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HENRY J. RAYMOND

THE NEW YORK PRESS,

FOR

THIRTY YEARS.

PROGRESS OF AMERICAN JOURNALISM

FROM 1840 TO 1870.

|j0rtraii, Illustrations, anir

BY AUGUSTUS MAVERICK.

^Published by Subscription only.

HARTFORD, CONN.:

A. S. HALE AND COMPANY.

1870.

Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1860, by
AUGUSTUS MAVERICK,

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Eastern District

Of New York.

CASE, LOCKWOOD * BRAINARD,

TO THE READER.

PREFACES are not to my taste : — perhaps not to yours.

I have tried to tell in a simple way the story of a life which
had within it much that seemed to me worth the telling ; and
so this picture of my friend goes forth to his friends and
mine. A. M.

NEW YORK, December, 1869.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

Xo.

1. PORTRAIT.

:?. I low HENRY J. RAYMOND STUDIED HIS LESSONS AS A SCHOOL
BOY,

3. THE GENESEE WESLEYAN SEMINARY IN LIMA,

4. THE UNIVERSITY OF VERMONT IN BURLINGTON,

5. FAC SIMILE OF THE NEW YORK TRIBUNE, APRIL 10, 1841,

6. THE PILOT BOAT WM. J. HOMER IN THE ICE,

7. PRESENT CONDITION OF THE RAYMOND HOMESTEAD IN LIMA,

NEW YORK, ..-.. .77

8. FAC SIMILE OF THE NEW YORK TIMES, SEPTEMBER 18, 1851, 88

9. FIRST OFFICE OF THE NEW YORK TIMES, 113 NASSAU ST., 1851, 95

10. SECOND OFFICE OF THE NEW YOKK TIMES, CORNER NASSAU

AND BEEKMAX STS., 1854-7, - - - 142

11. THE BUILDING NOW OCCUPIED BY THE TIMES, - 154

12. MR. RAYMOND'S SANCTUM IN THE PRESENT TIMES BUILDING, 193

13. RESIDENCE OF MR. RAYMOND, 12 NINTH ST., NEW YORK, 205
1 1. FAC SJMILE OF MR. RAYMOND'S EDITORIAL COPY, - - 225
15. FAC SIMILE OF AX AUTOGRAPH LETTER FROM MR. RAYMOND, 323

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

TEE EOT.

Western New York Fifty Tears ago — Birthplace and Parentage of Henry J. Raymond

— The Raymond Family — The Old Homestead in Lima — Rev. Dr. Barnard's
Church — Early Years of Henry J. Raymond — Thirst for Knowledge — His
Teachers — The District School — Raymond a Reader at Three Years of Age —
A Speaker at Five — How he Studied — A Picturesque Attitude — The Favorito
Cat — Raymond's Academic Course — Opening of the Qenesee Wesleyan Seminary
in Lima — His Schoolmate, Alexander Mann — Raymond Looking for Employ-
ment— Brief Experience in a Country Store — He Forsakes Trade — In Charge
of a District School — "Boarding Round" — Raymond a Poet at Sixteen — Ode
Written for the Fourth of July Celebration in Lima in 1836 — Raymond's De-
parture for College ............13

CHAPTER H.

IN COLLEGE.

Raymond Prepared for College at Fifteen — His Father's Farm Mortgaged to Provide
Means — Raymond as a Collegian — The University of Vermont — Incidents —
Mr. E. A. Stansbury's Recollections — Henry Clay and Henry J Raymond —
Raymond's Graduation and Return to Lima . . . • 23

CHAPTER HI.
ADRIFT.

Out of College and in Politics — " Tippecanoe and Tyler too " — Raymond as a Whig
Campaigner — Political Speeches in the Genesee Valley — An Indignant Demo-
cratic Schoolmaster — Raymond again iu Search of Employment — Determine* to

VI CONTENTS.

try his Fortune in New York — Calls upon Horace Greeley — Repulsed — Does
not Give Up — Studies Law — Advertises for a School — Gets a Foothold in
Greeley's New- Yorker — Greeley finally Engages Him — Raymond Working for
Eight Dollars a Week — Becomes a Writer of Pill Advertisements and a News-
paper Correspondent — Establishment of the New York Tribune — Raymond Fast-
Anchored in Journalism .23

CHAPTER IV.

ANCHORED.

The New York Tribune — Horace Greeley's Tribute to Henry J. Raymond — A Mistake
Corrected — Raymond's Work on the Tribune — Signal Successes • — Dr. Dionysius
Lardner's Lectures — Severe Illness of Raymond — Greeley Calls upon Him —
Raymond's Wretched Pay — What he Said to Greeley — Results of an Interview
in a Sick-room — Raymond as a Reporter — Thomas McElrath's Reminiscences —
Raymond Secedes from the Tribune 32

CHAPTER V.

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK — 1840 TO 1850.

Easy-Going Newspapers — The Old "Blanket-Sheets" — Editorial Duels and Horse-
whippings — Mr. W. C. Bryant's Reminiscences — Tlie Courier and Enquirer —
The Journal of Commerce — The Evrninj Post — The Commercial Advertiser — Tho
Herald — How Bennett Startled the City of New York —The Sun — The Tribune
as a Cheap and Respectable Paper — Fierce Rivalries — Old Methods of Getting
News — Sharp Practice — Pony Expresses — Stealing Locomotive Engines —
Carrier-Pigeons — Setting Typo on Board of Steamboats — How Raymond Reported
Webster's Speech — The Voyage of Monroe F. Gale across the Atlantic — The Pilot-
Boat William J. Romer in the Ice — Personalities — James Watson Webb's Ridi-
cule of Horace Greeley's Personal Appearance — Greeley's Reply — The Tribune's
" Sliovegammon " Hoax — Burning of the Tribune Office — The Tide Changing . 36

CHAPTER VI.

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK — (CONTINUED.)

Peiiods in Journalism — The Expansion of the Press and the Progress of Civilization
— Thy Pbneer followed by the Printer — Useless Papers Dead — Condition of the

CONTENTS. Til

New York Press Twenty Years Ago — How the Herald and the Tribune fell into
Disrepute — Henry J. Raymond Creating a New Era in Journalism — The Germ
of his Future Success 49

_ CHAPTER VII.

AN OLD TAINT.

The Socialists Twenty-two Years Ago — Horace Greeley and Albert Brisbane — The
Tribune, the Future, and the Harbinger — Zealous Iconoclasts — The False Pre-
tences of Fourierism — Socialistic Failures — The Tribune in Disrepute — Ray-
mond's Attacks upon Socialism — The Celebrated Discussion between Greeley and
Raymond — The Merits and Demerits of Socialism •••«•'• M

CHAPTER
RAYMOND AT TWENTY-EIGHT.

His Filial Devotion — Burning of the Homestead in Lima — Mr. Raymond's Letters
to his Parents and his Brother Samuel — His Visit to Lima — His Solicitude for
bis Father and Mother — A Touching Tribute .77

CHAPTER IX.

RAYMOND'S ENTRANCE INTO POLITICAL LIFE.

Election to the New York Legislature in 1849 — A Good Beginning — Return to the
Courier and Enquirer — Re-election to the Legislature in 1850 — Remarks on
assuming the Speakership of tho Assembly — Sudden End of the Session — An
Incident in Raymond's Life — Quarrel between Webb and Raymond — Departure
of Raymond for Europe — His First Impressions of the Old World — Letter from
London .....81

CHAPTER X.

FOUNDATION OF THE NEW YORK TIMES.

Origin of the Times — Thurlow Weed's offer of the Albany Evening Journal to Raymond
and Jones — Failure of a Negotiation — Project of a New Whig Paper in Xew

CONTENTS.

York — The Winter of 1850-51 — A Walk upon the Ice on the Hudson River — A
Banking Law which Produced a Newspaper — George Jones, E. B. Wesley, and
Henry J. Raymond — The Times Copartnership — Eight Stockholders — Raymond's
Shares Presented to Him — The Times Announced — Commotion among New
York Newspapers — Raymond's Visit to Europe — His Return to New York —
The Prospectus of the Times — A Building Selected — How the First Number of
the Paper was Made Up — Mr. Raymond's Salutatory Address — "Only Sixpence
a Week " — The Money Sunk in the First Year — Mr. Raymond's Statement of
Results ....... 88

CHAPTER XL

THE FIRST WORKERS ON THE TIMES — A RETROSPECT.

The Journalists who Joined Raymond — Alexander C. Wilson — James W. Simonton
— The Times and its Charges of Corruption in Congress — A Page of History —
The Times Triumphant — Nehemiah C. Palmer — Caleb C. Norvell — Michael
Hennessey 103

CHAPTER XII.

KOSSUTH — RAYMOND — WEBB.

Arrival of Louis Kossuth in New York in 1851 — Enthusiastic Reception — Municipal
Banquet in the Irving House — Raymond and James Watson Webb — A -Lively
Altercation — Webb Defiant — Pol ice Restoring Order — Webb's Suppressed Speech
Subsequently Printed — The Press Banquet to Kossuth in the Astor House —
Admirable Speech by Mr. Raymond — His Advocacy of the Cause of Hungary . 109

CHAPTER XIII.

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION.

Mr. Raymond the Central Figure of an Exciting Scene — A Remarkable Episode in his
Life — How he Became a Member of the Convention — Northern Subserviency and
Southern Arrogance — Attempt to Expel Mr. Raymond from the Convention — A
Despatch to James Watson Webb, and what came of it — Mr. Raymond's Defence
— His Final Triumph 120

CONTENTS. IX

CHAPTER XIV.

THE TIMES IMPROVED, AND RAYMOND ELECTED LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR.

Raymond's Resolution to Devote his Life to Journalism — New Writers Engaged for
the Times— Charles C. B. Seymour— Fitz James O'Brien — Dr. Tuthill — Charles
Welden — Charles F.Briggs, Ilurlburt, Godkin, Sewall, and DeCordova — Raymond
again in Politics — Elected Lieutenant-Governor — Address as President of the
Senate — Declines the Nomination for Governor ....... 142

CHAPTER XV.

BIRTH OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY — THE PITTSBURG CONVENTION.

The Free-Soil Struggle — Causes of the Convention in Pittsbnrg in 1856 — Preliminary
Action — The New Party — An Address to the People of the United States Sub-
mitted by Mr. Raymond — Its Adoption — The Presidental Contest — Fremont
Defeated — Raymond's Discussion with Lucien B. Chase ..... 147

CHAPTER XVI.

THE TIMES ENLARGING ITS BOUNDARIES.

The Old Brick Church Property in New York — Old Knickerbockers' Reminiscences
and Regrets — A Large Purchase for the Times in the Panic Year — The Wonder
of the Day in New'York — Unheard-of Extravagance — How the Old Newspapers
had boen Housed — Dinginess and Decay — The New Order of Things — Visitors
Thronging the Times Office — Full Description of tho Building .... 154

CHAPTER XVII.

SLAVERY, DISUNION, AND THE WAR.

Raymond's Return from Europe and his Encounter with Secession in 18CO — His Un-
wavering Loyalty — Clear Foresight — Prophetic Utterances — Speech in Albany
in 18GO — His Letters to William L. Yanccy — War — Raymond's Patriotism —
The Riot Week of 18C3 and the Times — Riymond's Attitude . . . .160

X CONTENTS.

CHAPTER XVI II.

RAYMOND IN CONGRESS, AND THE PHILADELPHIA CONVENTION.

Raymond in 1862-64 — Speech in Wilmington, Delaware — Election to Congress in
November, 1864 — The Vote in his District — Opening of the Thirty-Ninth Con-
gress— Andrew Johnson's Conflict with the Republican Party — Raymond in the
Philadelphia Convention in 1866 — The Philadelphia Address — Raymond's Ex-
planatory Speech at the Cooper Institute — A Nomination to the Fortieth Con-
gress Declined — Letter from Air. Raymond — His Opponents — Injustice . . 1C8

CHAPTER XIX.
OUT OF POLITICS, AND BACK TO JOURNALISM.

Mr. Raymond's Withdrawal from Public Life and his Return to Editorial Duty —
Departure for Europe in 1807 — A Farewell Dinner — Letter from Rev. Henry
Ward Beecher — Speeches by Mr. Dana and Mr. Roosevelt — A Jingle of Rhyme
— Speech by Mr. Raymond — The Press Dinner to Charles Dickens — Mr. Ray-
mond's Speech — Increased Value of the Time* 193

CHAPTER XX.
DEATH.

Sudden Death of Mr. Raymond — Tributes to his Memory — His Enemies Confessing

their Error 205

CHAPTER XXI.

AT REST.
Funeral Ceremonies — Eloquent Address by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher . . .215

CHAPTER XXII.

THE MAN.

Mr. Raymond's Career — His Early Ambition — His Application — Newspaper Re-
quirements— The Times — Raymond's Treatment of Subordinates — His Ho?;>i-

CONTENTS. XI

tality — Incidents — Raymond's Tact — His Habit of Discipline — His Idea of
Journalism — His Errors — His Methods of Literary Labor — The Biography of
Daniel Webster — A College Address — Religious Faith — "Gates Ajar" —
Domestic Life . . . 219

CHAPTER XXIII.
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.

How Bennett was Beaten at his own Game — The Loss of the Collins Steamer "Arctic"
in 1854 — Mr. Burns's Narrative of the Disaster, and How the Times Secured it —
A Ride in a Horse-Car — Adventures of a Night — The Italian Campaign of 18.">9

— Mr Raymond's " Brilliant Run " — The Times and the " Elbows of the Mincio"

— A Bohemian Trick — How the Times Caricatured Bennett — Incidents of the
Cable Excitement in 1858 — The War Correspondents — Newspaper Reporters —
"Jenkins" — George William Curtis on "Jenkins" — Precision in Journalism —
The Evening Post's "Index Expurgatorius " ' 230

CHAPTER XXIV.

A DIGRESSION CONCERNING NEWSPAPER BORES.

How Editors are Bored — The Different Classes of Bores — The Poets, and what Mr.
Bryant said of Them — Political, Inquisitive, and Clerical Bores — The "Strong-
Minded " Women — The Persons Afflicted by Bores 266

CHAPTER XXV.

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES.

Famous Deceptions — The "Moon Hoax" of 1835 — The Polk Campaign and the

"Roorback" — The Lincoln Proclamation Hoax . 273

CHAPTER XXVI.
THE PRESS OF TO-DAY.

Papers Published in New York at tiio Close of 1869 — A Classified List — Peculiarities
of Different Journals — Upwards of One Hundred and Fifty Dailies and Weeklies
in Existence — What Was, Is, And la to Be 323

HENRY J. RAYMOND

AND

THE NEW YORK PRESS

CHAPTER I.

THE BOY.

WESTERN NEW YORK FIFTY YEARS AGO — BIRTHPLACE AND PARENTAGE Of

HENRY J. RAYMOND THE RAYMOND FAMILY THE OLD HOMESTEAD IN

LIMA REV. DR. BARNARD'S CHURCH EARLY YEARS OF HENRY J. RAY-
MOND THIRST FOR KNOWLEDGE — HIS TEACHERS RAYMOND A READER

AT THREE YEARS OF AGE A SPEAKER AT FIVE HOW HE STUDIED

A PICTURESQUE ATTITUDE THE FAVORITE CAT RAYMOND'S ACADEMIC

COURSE OPENING OF THE GENESEE WESLEYAN SEMINARY IN LIMA — HIS

SCHOOLMATE ALEXANDER MANN — RAYMOND LOOKING FOR EMPLOYMENT —

BRIEF EXPERIENCE IN A COUNTRY STORE HE FORSAKES TRADE — IV

CHARGE OF A DISTRICT SCHOOL "BOARDING ROUXD " RAYMOND

A POET AT SIXTEEN ODE WRITTEN FOR THE FOURTH OF JULY CELEBRA-
TION IN LIMA IN 1836 — DEPARTURE FOR COLLEGE.

FIFTY years ago, that part of "Western New York which
became the birthplace of Henry Jarvis Raymond was remote
and almost unknown. The great lines of land and water com-
munication which now give it ready access to the centres of
population, and to profitable markets, had not yet been opened.
No telegraph existed ; cables under the ocean had not been
conceived, even in dreams. The Erie Canal was still in pro-
cess of construction, and DC TVitt Clinton, who watched its
progress with keen attention, was Governor of the State.

In the year 1820, the whole population of New York was

14 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

but one million, three hundred and seventy-two thousand
eight hundred and twelve, — or in the proportion of thirty
inhabitants to the square mile, — and ten thousand and eighty-
eight slaves remained in captivity within its borders. James
Monroe was President of the United States ; Maine had just
been admitted into the Union ; the people of the Territory of
Missouri had been formally authorized to form a State consti-
tution ; the country had lately emerged from the war with Eng-
land, and the ravaged frontier of New York was relapsing into
quiet after the long and violent shock of arms.

Thirty miles from the frontier, sequestered even from the
small business centres of that day, lay the little hamlet of
Lima, now a part of Livingston County, — a county which had
no existence fifty years ago, nor until it was born of the adja-
cent counties of Ontario and Genesee in the early part of the
year 1821. Lima is an old village, begun in 1789, and
although its growth has been slow,* it has steadily held its
own, and its people can boast that it has suffered no material
retrogression, — a boast which does not apply to many places
in New York more celebrated and pretentious. Nature has
been generous to this region. A fertile soil, rippling water-
courses, crystal lakes, leafy woods, and distant views of charm-
ing landscapes, appeal alike to the artist's sense of the beauti-
ful, and the farmer's love of the useful. The village of Lima,
distant seven miles from the railroad station of Avon, on the
Buffalo Division of the Erie route, now forms the north-eastern
corner of the County of Livingston ; and as the traveller jogs
slowly towards it, committed to the most uncomfortable of old-
fashioned stage-coaches, he is agreeably impressed by the
signs of thrift and industry which meet the eye at every step
of the well-kept country road. If not Arcadia, the place is
pastoral, and undeniably attractive.

One mile and a half from the centre of the little post-village
of Lima, is the old homestead upon which Henry J. Raymond
was born — January 24th, 1820. The dwelling was destroyed

*The present population (January, 1870) is about fifteen hundred. Tho
town was formed in January, 1789, under the name of Charleston.. In 1808,
the name was changed to Lima.

THE BOY. 15

by fire twenty-eight years later, but the boundaries of the farm
remain unaltered, and the fine grove of spreading locust-trees
which shaded the old house remains to adorn the new. The
farm passed into other hands upwards of twenty years ago,
but ancient memories still cluster there.

The progenitors of the Raymond family, as the name implies,
were of French extraction. The pedigree has not been pre-
served, for pride of ancestry is not a characteristic of the
Raymond blood ; and if some future Dryasdust should exhume
the mouldy record of lines of crusading lords, it is certain he
would get no aid from any researches undertaken by existing
members of the family. Jarvis Raymond, father of Henry
Jarvis, was a farmer in Lima fifty years ago, — that is all the
record his descendants want ; they see a perpetual halo about
the father's head, and ask for no older, stronger, or purer
ancestral line.

Jarvis Raymond was married in the year 1819 to Lavinia,
daughter of Clark Brockway, of Lima. The first child born
to them was Henry Jarvis Raymond, and five others followed.
Of these but two survive, and the father himself is numbered
with the departed. In the order of birth, the children were : —

1. Henry Jarvis Raymond.

2. Eliza Raymond.

3. Samuel Brock way Raymond.

4. James Fitch Raymond.

5 and 6. Two who died very young, and were never named.

Samuel is now a prominent and prosperous citizen of Roch-
ester, New York, — the senior member of the firm of Raymond
& Huntington, bankers and insurance agents. James is a
photographer in Detroit, Michigan, having removed to that
city from Ypsilanti, to which latter place he emigrated on leav-
ing Lima fifteen years ago. The mother's home is now with
her son James, but she occasionally revisits Lima, her birth-
place ; and when the writer had the pleasure of an interview
with her in that village, a few months since, the venerable and
excellent lady dwelt with keen zest upon the memories of her
youth. Heaven send all such good mothers length of days
and full measure of prosperity !

16 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK TRESS.

The home life on the eighty-acre farm in Lima, half a cen-
tury ago, was simple, honest, and kindly. The father and
mother were both professing Christians, and moreover consis-
tent in their Christian character: — all professing Christians
are not entitled to this high praise. Mr. Raymond, who is
described by old inhabitants of the place, still surviving, as a
man of sterling integrity, possessed of a remarkably clear
mind and a happy faculty of imparting ideas, long occupied
positions of trust in the little rural community in which he
dwelt. lie was for many years a Justice of the Peace in
Lima, and a Ruling Elder in the First Presbyterian Church,
of which the Reverend John Barnard, D. D., was pastor,* and
was also for a considerable time the Superintendent of Dr.
Barnard's Sabbath school. A plain, unlettered man, his
sound sense, honesty of purpose, and decision of character
gave him command, and to this day his name is never men-
tioned save with honor. He died in Detroit in 1868, in the
house purchased for him by his son Henry, after the removal
of the family from the old homestead in Lima.

The first-born, Henry Jarvis Raymond — the subject of this
volume — inherited much of his parents' solid sense, quick
apprehension, and strong purpose. True, he was born to an
inheritance of poverty ; but he was not the worse for that.
Very few men possessed of strong will are sufferers from the
troubles of a cloudy youth ; they make their own sunshine
later on in life, and the difficulties of their early days are to
their maturer fame what shadows are to art, — points of con-
trast and backgrounds for brilliant color.

Henry J. Raymond, as an infant, differed in no material
respect from thousands of other children ; and when he
began to run about in pinafores he was chiefly noteworthy
for great natural quickness and indomitable nervous energy.
The induction into his first pair of trowsers, however,

*Dr. Barnard is still living in Lima, at an advanced age. He retired from
the pastorate of the Presbyterian Church in that village, in 1857, after an active
and useful service of fifty years. To his courteous kindness and the vividness
of his recollections, the writer is indebted for valuable assistance in the prep-
aration of these pa^es.

THE BOY. 17

marked a period in his young life. A thirst for the acquisition
of knowledge came early to him, and grew in intensity until
the day of his death. He never wearied of studying, examin-
ing, analyzing. His active mind — too active at times — began
to take form at the age of three, when he read simple lessons
fluently, to the boundless delight of doting parents and admir-
ing friends. He was not, perhaps, so precocious as Horace
Greeley, who has uttered a moving lament over the stupidity of
certain New Hampshire folk, who caused him to read print
upside-down at the tender age of four ; but Raymond's early
skill in letters is to-day traditional in the place of his birth.

His first teacher — Charlotte Leech, now dead — was proud
of her little pupil, and he profited so well by her careful tute-
lage that at the age of three years and a half he was consid-
ered eligible for admission to the privileges of the district
school. Those privileges were in no sense remarkable, for the
district school of that day was an exceedingly inferior institu-
tion : — reading, writing and arithmetic were the principal
studies ; books of instruction were dear and poor ; and neither
teachers nor pupils were noted for wisdom. But the lad
throve upon such meat as was given him, and the loving eyes
of kindred and friends still linger upon the site of the little old
house, a stone's-throw across the turnpike from the home-
stead, in which the future editor took his first degree in learn-
ing. No relic is now left of the rusty, old-fashioned school ;
in its place stands a trim white building, populous and noisy
with the school-boy life of the latter half of the nineteenth
century. Who knows but the editor of the future great news-
paper of America, or he who was born to rule the destiny of
this nation, is to-day a pupil in roundabout jacket in that
unpretentious school-house ?

Raymond was a reader at three. At the age of five ho was
a speaker, — a speaker in a very small way, but yot a speaker.
For, in the winter of 1824-5, while under the teaching of
Mr. Fosdick, he appeared in the public exhibition of the schol-
ars as the reciter of two pieces; one of which was a satire
upon lawyers, couched in terms severe but simple, as befitted
a youth of such tender years.
2

18 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND. THE NEW YORK PRESS.

At the age of eight, the lad began to attend Mr. Button's
classical school in the village of Lima, studying the elementary
lessons during the summer, and remaining at home in the
winter months. After the winter of 1829, he was in school
constantly, living at home and learning rapidly. He mingled
but little in the sports of his fellows, preferring his books
rather than the company of the roy storing country boys. Chest-
nutting had no charms for him ; bird's-nesting was a joy of
which he never tasted ; even the exhilarating pastime of coast-
ing was but seldom indulged in. He was eminently studious
and sober. An omnivorous reader, he remembered and was
able to use all he read. His remarkable power of memory and
faculty of assimilation, which contributed in no small degree
to his success later in life, thus had an early development, and
he was unwearied in application.

His method of study at that early age was peculiar. Al-
ways choosing the evening for committing his lessons, he as-
sumed a position so picturesque that our artist has been directed
to make the accompanying sketch from the minute and vivid
descriptions furnished by surviving members of the family.
Picture the plain, old-fashioned room of a country-house, — a
wood-stove roaring merrily while stormy blasts swept by un-
heeded,— father and mother and brothers gathered around the
table, at one .corner of wrhich Henry was engaged in study, —
his knees upon a hard chair, his elbows upon the table, his
hands supporting his head, his eyes fixed intently upon his
book, and a favorite cat mounted upon his friendly back.
This cat, according to the family tradition, was very fond of
the studious lad, and as regularly as he assumed his favorite
position, so regularly did the feline companion arrive to com-
plete the winter evening's tableau.

Meanwhile, projects had been in preparation to enlarge the
educational facilities of Lima. In the year 1829, the Geuesee
Annual Conference of the Methodist Episcopal denomination
of the State of New York, at its annual session, appointed a
committee to take steps for establishing a seminary of learning
within the territorial limits of the Conference ; and subscriptions
of funds for that purpose were solicited in the towns of Perry,

THE BOY. 19

Brockport, Henrietta, Le Roy, and Lima, which places were
competitors for the location of the seminary. The conditions
of subscription were that the seminary should be erected in the
place where the greatest amount of money should be subscribed.
The sum of twelve thousand dollars was subscribed and paid by
the citizens of Lima and its neighborhood. The subscribers
were Samuel Spencer and about one hundred and fifteen other
citizens, and in pursuance of the terms 'and conditions of sub-
criptiou the seminary was in the year 1830 located at Lima.
As a further inducement to build the institution in Lima, the
citizens of the town procured to be sold and conveyed to the
seminary, for its site, about seventy-four acres of land, situated
within the limits of the village, at the nominal price of two
thousand four hundred and twenty-six dollars and thirty cents,
— much less than the actual value, — upon which the seminary
erected its buildings, and went into operation in the year 1832.
By an act of the Legislature of the State of New York, passed
May 1, 1834, it was duly incorporated by the name of the
Geuesee Wesleyan Seminary.

Henry J. Raymond was among the first students who-
entered the new institution in 1832. His age was twelve, and
he had profited so well by the instruction previously received
in smaller schools that he was perfectly qualified to undertake
a broader course of study. His most intimate schoolmate in
the seminary was Alexander Mann, through whose urgent
solicitation Raymond subsequently went to college. They
remained fast friends ; and it is an interesting fact, that, many
years later, Mr. Mann was employed by Mr. Raymond as an
editorial writer upon the New York Times. Mr. Mann was
in no sense brilliant, but he possessed a well-informed
mind, and his uniform integrity and agreeable social qualities
endeared him to all who knew him. Those who were associ-
ated with him in the service of the Times cherish pleasant
memories of the relation.

Emerging from the seminary, Raymond began to cast about
for employment. His common-sense way of looking at the
affairs of life suggested the reflection that it was his duty to

20 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

contribute towards the expense of his own support ; and accord-
ingly he obtained a place in a country store. The pay was at
the rate of seventy-five dollars a year, — not an extravagant
reward for the intelligent service performed, — but the lad did
not like the business, and not long afterwards he and trade
parted company forever. In his sixteenth year he began to
teach, procuring the charge of a district school, for three
months, in Wheatland, Genesee County, fifteen miles north-
west of Lima. In country phrase, he "boarded round'' —
taking such accommodations of food and lodging as the uni-
versal custom of the day afforded to impecunious young teach-
ers, but thriving under circumstances which were not alto-
gether agreeable. The pay was small, and he was very young
to hold the place of pedagogue ; many of his scholars excelled
him in size and weight as well as in age ; and his path was not
strewed with roses. But he had a strong will, and his expe-
rience in teaching was not a failure.

In the following summer, his school contract having expired,
he returned to the homestead in Lima ; and on the Fourth of July
made his first appearance as a poet. The celebration of the Xa-
tional Anniversary in Lima, that year, was exceptionally grand.
The patriotic citizens, determining that " the Fourth " should be
honored with all due observance, devoted much thought and
time to the celebration ; and in response to a pressing invita-
tion, young Raymond wrote the subjoined ode, which was
sung by the village choir with immense spirit, to the accompani-
ment of a swelling chorus : —

ODE.

JULY 4, 1836.

Air — " Hail Columbia."

HAIL ! holy Truth : Hail ! Sacred Right,
Whom heav'n gave birth ere dawn'd the light !
That art with heav'n coeval — firm :
That art with heav'n coeval — firm.
Thus thundered forth Truth's Sov'reign God
As high 'mid sky and earth he trod.

THE BOY. 21

In heaven thou hast a during home,
On earth thy name is scarcely known ;
Her sons too base, too blindly low,
Thy spirit's boldest, proudest foe.

Hail Truth, Justice, Liberty !

Heaven's sons are greatly free.

Saints — 'tis not beneath your praise,

Strike your harps to noble lays.

Columbia heard his thundering voice,
The despot's dread, the freeman's choice.
Hail ! holy Truth : Hail ! sacred Right !
Hail ! holy Truth : Hail ! sacred Right !
Through earth's domain the echo ran,
And upward coursed the heaven's broad span.
In this fair land doth Freedom live ;
In this fair laud her champions thrive :
Overwhelmed be Kiugs' united powers,
That vainly strive to conquer ours.
Hail ! Truth, Justice, etc.

Hail! heavenly Science — glorious Ray

Of bright efl'ulgence — mental Day :
Great pledge of lasting Liberty I
Great pledge of lasting Liberty !

The lordly tyrant's fiercest shock,

The freeman's firm unshaken rock,
Heaven's mighty orbs in ceaseless rounds
Thy fiat wheels — their limit bounds :
Gloom shrouds the earth : thy brightest ray
Pierces the shade —her night is day.

Hail ! Truth, Justice, etc.

Again the land of Patriots heard

His mighty voice — the well-known word ;
Hail ! heav'nly Science — glorious Ray I
Hail ! heav'nly Science — glorious Ray !

Welcome to Freedom's ' holy land ' ;

Welcome to Justice' mim'rous band.
Let Eastern climes content remain
'Neath tyrants' slavish galling chain:
But next our hearts lot knowledge stay;
Freedom's sure pledge — as light, of day.

Hail ! Truth, Justice, etc.

Hail Columbia! Freedom's land I
Hail her champions — mighty band I

All hail her Institutions free !

22 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

But when your hearts with glory rise,
Forget not those who earned the prize;

Forget not him, the proudest one,

The great, the mighty Washington !

Forget not those who left their life ;

Who met in War the last dark strife.
Hail ! Truth, Justice, etc.

Considered as a literary production, not much can be said in
praise of this ode ; but when regarded as the work of a coun-
try boy of sixteen, whose whole life had been passed in the
seclusion of a rural hamlet, without access to the higher
schools of instruction, or the privilege of studying the works
of great authors, it becomes exceedingly interesting. The
original manuscript — written in a neat and flowing style in
which chirographic students might trace resemblances to the
fac similes which appear elsewhere in this volume — is now in
the possession of Mr. Samuel B. Raymond, of Rochester.

With the writing of the Fourth of July Ode, in 1836,
virtually ended Raymond's residence in Lima. In the follow-
ing August he entered the Freshman Class of the University
of Vermont, in Burlington, and his college life began.

IN COLLEGE. 23

CHAPTER II.

IN COLLEGE.

KAYMOND PREPARED FOR COLLEGE AT FIFTEEN — HIS FATHER^ FARM MORI-
GAGED TO PROVIDE MEANS — RAYMOND AS A COLLEGIAN — THE UNIVERSITY
OF VERMONT — INCIDENTS — MR. E. A. STANSBURY'S RECOLLECTIONS —

HENRY CLAY AND HENRY J. RAYMOND RAYMOND'S GRADUATION AND

RETURN TO LIMA.

IN a fragment of autobiography found among Mr. Ray-
mond's papers after his death,* he observes that at the age of
fifteen he was better prepared for college than his father AVUS
to send him. But Jarvis Raymond knew the value of a good
education, and at any cost to himself was always read}' to
give his children the advantages of the best instruction. TV hen
his son Henry had reached the age of sixteen, the father mort-
gaged his farm for the sum of one thousand dollars, and with
the provision thus obtained, the lad was sent to Burlington, f
The money devoted to this purpose was afterwards repaid to
the father by the grateful son.

* See Appendix A. This fragment is evidently but an unfinished and
crude series of notes. It needs revision, to remove obscurities and inele-
gancies of expression; but it is given in the Appendix to this volume, with-
out alteration, as a pleasant memorial.

t The University of Vermont, an old and prosperous institution, situated
oil a commanding eminence in the city of Burlington, on V^e banks of Lake
Champlaiu, has recently been enriched by an endowment of eighty thousand
dollars. The subjoined passages, taken from the Burlington Free Press of
October, 1869, show the purposes of this endowment, and also illustrate the
generous sympathy of the citizens of Burlington and the alumni of the Uni-
versity in the good work it is performing : —

"We are sure," observes the Free Press, "that our readers will share our
pleasure at hearing that the attempt to obtain a subscription of at least
eighty thousand dollars for the Treasury of the University of Vermont and
State Agricultural College has been crowned with success. Never before by
any one effort was so large a sum raised for the Institution. When the Uni-
versity undertook, three years ago, to furnish education in the natural

24 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Four years in college were not devoid of incident. It is
still a tradition in the University of Vermont that Kaymond
was one of the best students of his class, and that metaphysi-
cal lore was his favorite subject. He clung to his books with
the invincible tenacity of his earlier years, determining to mas-
ter the grave problems set before him, and coolly disregarding
temptations and allurements. Among his classmates were

sciences in their applications to agriculture and the mechanic arts, the Trus-
tees saw the necessity of an important addition to the funds at their dis-
posal. They therefore resolved to appeal to the public for the sura of one
hundred thousand dollars. It was thought that the Alumni would be pleased
to devote their subscriptions to the endowment of the Professorship of Moral
and Intellectual Philosophy, which had been rendered so illustrious by the
distinguished scholar who then filled it, Prof. Joseph Torrey, and by his ven
crated predecessor, President James Marsh. They were therefore invited to
contribute at least twenty-five thousand dollars to the endowment of the
Marsh Professorship. By the terms of that special subscription it was to be
completed before Commencement, 1867. The sons of the University cheer
fully responded to the call, filled the subscription within the allotted time,
and have paid the larger portion of it into the treasury.

" It was decided to ask the citizens of Burlington and vicinity to subscribe
at least thirty thousand dollars, and, if possible, to carry their subscriptions
to forty thousand dollars. It was also thought wise to provide that none of
the subscriptions, except those which should be made to the Alumni Fund,
should be binding, unless the total amount of all the subscriptions, special
and general, should be at least eighty thousand dollars. When a committee,
consisting of Albert L. Catlin, John N. Pomeroy, and Peter T. Washburn,
should declare that the sum of thirty thousand dollars had been subscribed
in Burlington and vicinity, and that the total sum of eighty thousand dollars,
in special and general subscriptions, had been subscribed, and that such sub-
scriptions were, in their judgment, good and valid, then all such subscrip-
tions were to be binding and payable according to the terms thereof. That
declaration these three gentlemen have formally made.

"The gentlemen charged with the labor of raising the subscription wisely
took the ground that before applications could successfully be made abroad,
Burlington must show that she had a fresh and vital interest in the Institu-
tion, and confidence that under its new organization it had a career of prom-
ise before it. They therefore began their labors here. The citizens of Bur-
lington promptly responded ; and in a very short time the thirty thousand
dollars asked of them were promised. But they did not stop at that. And
to-day there stands against the names of the citizens of Burlington and
vicinity (including Winooski and South Burlington), the sum of over forty
thousand dollars (§40,451), a considerable part of which has been paid be-
fore it was due. We think it may fairly be said that Burlington has shown
her interest in the University. From New York city and Brooklyn subscrip-
tions for twenty-one thousand seven hundred and ten dollars were received ;
from St. Johnsbury, six thousand two hundred and twenty-five dollars ; from
St. Albaus, two thousand four hundred and fifty dollars ; and from Rutland,
one thousand four hundred and fifty dollars. Smaller sums were procured in
various towns of Vermont."

President Angell, who has been at the head of the University since the
year 1866, has directed its affairs with great skill and marked success. His
scholastic acquirements and his genial temper assure to him alike the respect
of the learned and the affection of the student.

IN COLLEGE. 25

James R. Spaulding,* of New York ; Dudley C. Denison, of
Royalton, Vermont; J. S. D. Taylor, of St. Albans, Ver-
mont ; Daniel C. Houghton, and others with whom Mr. Ray-
mond always kept up the most cordial relations. Associated
with him in college, but in other classes, were his old school-
mate Alexander Mann, Professor W. G. T. Shedd, D. D.,
now a resident of NeV York ; J. Sullivan Adams, late Secre-
tary of the Vermont Board of Education ; Rev. Calvin Pease,
D. D. ; John Gregory Smith ; James Forsyth, of Troy, New
York ; Rev. John Henry Hopkins, Jr. ; Charles P. Marsh, of
Woodstock, Vermont; Torrey E. Wales, of Burlington, Ver-
mont ; Robert S. Hale, of New York ; Rev. Charles C. Parker,
of Maine ; William Higby, of California ; John N. Baxter, and
C. M. Davey, of Rutland, Vermont; and Rev. Wm. T. Her-
rick, of Clarendon, Vermont.

A writer, who has paid a pleasant tribute to the memory of
Mr. Raymond, describes an incident which occurred in the
second year of his college course : —

" Raymond was seventeen years old when he came to spend
the long and dreary winter vacation with me in a temporarily
deserted building of a Vermont college. He was 'full up'
with his class, and there was no necessity for his devoting his
time to Latin and .Greek. There had just been received a
splendid collection of the old English classics, and I was devot-
ing my time to their careful study. Not so with Raymond.
Boyish ambition to shine in his class determined his course and
settled his character for life. The class had been reading the
Odyssey of Homer. He had not read the Iliad in his prepara-
tory course, and set about reading up. One book a day he
:i->i^ncd to himself as a task. But as these books were of un-
equal length, some days he had to overtask nature ; and then
began that system of overworking himself that at last ended in

* It is an interesting incident in the career of Mr. Raymond, that to three
of the gentlemen with whom he was intimately associated in early life, he
afterwards gave employment in the service of the Times, Mr. Spaulding
was for several years an editorial writer for the Times; Mr. Mann's
connection with that journal has already been noted; and Mr. E. D. Mans-
field, of Ohio, for whose journal Mr. Kayinoiul had written correspondence
from Now York in 1810, became " The Veteran Observer."

26 HEXRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

apoplexy. On one occasion he sat down to his task at four
p. M. ; the book was a large one, and he read away through the
entire night, and did not complete his task until foucp.'M. of
the next day."

Mr. E. A. Stansbury, formerly editor of the Burlington Free
Press, and now Secretary of the Homoeopathic Life Insurance
Company of the city of Xew York, also contributes a reminis-
cence of Mr. Raymond. He writes : —

"I knew him first as a young, delicate, intellectual-looking
student at Burlington. It was at the Junior Exhibition in the
beginning of August, 1839. The great Keutuckian, every-
where regarded as sure to be the nominee of the Presidential
Convention to be held in the succeeding December, was making
a sort of triumphal progress in advance through the Eastern
States, to let his future supporters see the man they were to
vote for. He happened to be at Burlington at Commence-
ment, and, of course, was sought by the authorities as the
crowning attraction of the occasion. He occupied the central
seat upon the stage in front of the pulpit, in the full gaze of an
assemblage comprising all that Burlington and its neighbor-
hood for many miles around could boast of as charming and bril-
liant. Crowds surrounded the church, unable to get admission,
but patiently waiting to greet with tumultuous voices the idol
of the State.

" I remember the day of the Junior Exhibition well. It was
oppressively hot. Mr. Clay, in black frock-coat, white vest
and very wide brown drilling pantaloons, sat manfully contend-
ing against the combined assaults of the stifling air, the monot-
onous tones of the speakers, and the interminable length of the
exercises — scarcely able, despite his best efforts, to keep se-
curely awake for more than five minutes at a time ; and then,
apparently, only by vigorously plying his large snuff-box,
which had to do extra duty that day.

"At length a slender, boyish figure stepped gracefully out
upon the stage, made his bow to the President, to the Faculty
and Mr. Clay, and then to the vast audience. His reputation
for ability was so well known that in an instant the buzz of con-
versation ceased, and the first sentences of Raymond's oration

IN COLLEGE. 27

broke upon the ear, almost as clearly as if the church had been
empty. I satlbut fifteen or twenty feet from the front of the
stage, so that the whole scene was like a picture to me.

" In a moment Mr. Clay's manner changed. He was wide
awake. As the young speaker grew more animated, and recov-
ered from the embarrassment, which he afterward confessed to
me, almost overpowered him, at the thought of opening his lips
in the presence of that great master of oratory, the statesman
leaned forward in his chair in an attitude of intense interest,
and so remained to the close. When, in those measured and
beautiful sentences for which Mr. Raymond was even then re-
markable, he brought his theme to a graceful and appropriate
termination, Mr. Clay turned to one sitting next him to ask
who the speaker was. 'That young man,' said he, ' will make
his mark. Depend upon it, you will hear from him hereafter.'

" In the evening, at a reception in honor of Mr. Clay, the
brilliant Junior was presented, and heard some words which, I
doubt not, he treasured to the end of life."

These incidents serve to illustrate some of the striking points
of the young collegian's character. As a little child, he was
obedient, staid, and eager for instruction ; as a well-grown boy,
studious and industrious ; as a young man in college, decorous
and diligent, making warm friendships and amassing stores of
information, which yielded rich returns in the days of struggle
and of triumph. In August, 1840, he was graduated at the
University, and returned home for a visit to his parents —
laden with the honors fairly won by four years of study and
application.

28 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER III.

ADRIFT.

OUT OF COLLEGE AND IN POLITICS — " TIPPECANOE AND TYLER TOO " THH

CAMPAIGN OF 1840 AN INDIGNANT SCHOOL-MASTER RAYMOND AGAIN IN

SEARCH OF EMPLOYMENT HE TRIES HIS FORTUNE IN NEW YORK INTER-
VIEW WITH HORACE GREELEY THE NEW-YORKER RAYMOND STUDYING

LAW AND TEACHING — IN GREELEY's SERVICE — INTRODUCTION TO JOUB
NALISM.

EMANCIPATED from college, Raymond began to make politi-
cal speeches. The autumn of 1840 was the time of the Harri-
son campaign, and the familiar rallying cry of " Tippecanoe and
Tyler too " rang through the Genesee valley as loudly as in
other parts of the country. Raymond was too young to vote,
but old enough to talk well. He had passed his twentieth
birthday, and the experience he had had in four years of col-
lege training and Society declamation, grafted upon a natural
fluency of speech, gave him the confidence and ready flow of
words which he never afterwards lost. Warmly espousing the
Whig cause, he performed excellent service in the campaign,
addressing large audiences in Lima, Geneseo and other places,
and continually winning good opinions. A democratic school-
master, named Loomis, however, became profoundly disgusted
at the young collegian's success as an orator, as well as with the
trenchant blows he dealt, and the story runs that he once inquired
with much asperity " what that little Raymond, with a face no
bigger than a snuff-box, meant by coming round there to make
political speeches ! " At this period, also, Raymond took part
in public discussions upon political questions, and acquitted
himself honorably. The campaign ended, and Harrison was
elected. But for that victory of the Whigs, Horace Greeley
would probably not have established the Tribune; and had not

ADRIFT. 29

the Tribune been established, Henry J. Raymond's career
might have been different.

At the close of the Presidential canvass, Raymond sought
for a select school in which to teach, and he has himself told us
that it was only upon the downfall of all such hopes, and in
despair of finding anything to do at home, that he determined
to try his fortune in the city of New York. Arriving there in
December, 1840, knowing but one person in the whole city, —
a student in a lawyer's office, — he ventured to make application
to Horace Greeley for the place of assistant on the New- Yorker,
the little weekly journal which was the immediate predecessor
of the New York Tribune. For five years Raymond had been
a subscriber to the New- Yorker, and had occasionally sent con-
tributions to its columns : and on the strength of this relation
he made timorous advances to Mr. Greeley. But the result of
the first interview was chilling ; the services of another appli-
cant had just been accepted ; Greeley was poor, and his paper,
like all of its class at that day, was unable to bear the expense
of a larger number of assistants. Raymond, however, ob-
tained permission to be in the office whenever he chose, and
in return promised to give his help on any occasion when his
services should be of value. On this anomalous footing he
made his way towards the first round of the ladder of New York
journalism.

Again pushing out upon the current, he advertised, through
the National Intelligencer of Washington, for a school in the
South, and while awaiting1 replies, occupied his leisure hours in
reading law in the office of Mr. Edward AY. Marsh, a member
of the New York Bar. A part of each day for three weeks
was passed by llaymoncl in the office of the New- Yorker, where
a considerable share of literary work gradually fell into his
hands. He writes of his life at this period : "I added up elec-
tion returns, read the exchanges for news, and discovered a
good deal which others had overlooked ; made brief notices of
new books, rend proof, and made myself generally useful.
At the end of about three weeks 1 received the first reply to
my advertisement, oilering me a school of thirty scholars in
North Carolina. T told Mr. Greeley at once that I should leave

30 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

the city the next morning. He asked me to walk with him to
the post-office, whither he always went in person to get his
letters and exchanges, and on the way inquired where I was
going. I told him to Xorth Carolina to teach a school. He
asked me how much they would pay me. I said, four hundred
dollars a year. ' Oh,' said he, ' stay here — I'll give you that.'
And this was my first engagement on the Press, and decided
the whole course of my life."

Eight dollars a week was meagre pay for the literary labor
performed by Raymond in his twenty-first year : — quite as
meagre, in comparison with the quality of the work, as the
paltry pittance of seventy-five dollars a year paid him in the
country store at the age of fifteen ; but he did not repine, nor
did he refuse the slice because the whole loaf was not at com
inand. It was, however, simply impossible to live comfortably
upon his pitiful salary. By extra work, he was enabled to
increase his income, and he did not disdain to weight his lean
purse by writing daily advertisements of a vegetable pill for a
quack doctor, at the rate of fifty cents for each production.
Subsequently he obtained the situation of teacher to a Latin
class in a young ladies' seminary in Xcw York ; and, still later,
eked out his means of subsistence by writing correspondence
for the Philadelphia .Standard, edited by R. W. Griswold ; the
Cincinnati Chronicle, edited by E. D. Mansfield, afterwards t-ho
*' Veteran Observer " of the Xe w York Time* ; the Bangor !V7iig,
and the Buffalo Commercial Advertiser.

Thus the tide ran, — Raymond always floating with it, never
overwhelmed, — until the spring of 1841, when Horace Greeley
established the Xew York Tribune. The few mouths' service
which had been rendered by Raymond made him a necessity to
Greeley, and with the foundation of the Tribune were also laid
the foundations of Raymond's future position and prosperity.
Less than three mouths over age when he took the post of first
assistant upon the Tribune, he at once threw his whole force
into the profession which he then definitely determined to fol-
low ; and so began a career which culminated a few years later
in a new era for Journalism in America.

Twenty-one years of Raymond's life had passed before he

ADRIFT. 31

became fast-anchored. Thereafter he was identified with news-
paper life ; in it he made his reputation ; by it he amassed a
competency; through its agency he rose to political prefer-
ment, — and he died in harness.

To his peculiar experiences in the office of the Tribune, a sep-
arate chapter must be given.

32 HENRY j. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER IV.

ANCHORED.

THE NEW YORK TRIBUNE — HORACE GREELET'S TRIBUTE TO HENRY J. RAY-
MOND A MISTAKE CORRECTED RAYMOND'S WORK ON THE TRIBUNE SIG-
NAL SUCCESSES — DR. DIONYSIUS LARDNER's LECTURES SEVERE ILLNESS

OF RAYMOND GREELEY CALLS UPON HIM — RAYMOND'S WRETCHED PAY

RESULTS OF AN INTERVIEW IN A SICK-ROOM RAYMOND AS A REPORTER

HIS SECESSION FROM THE TRIBUNE.

HORACE GREELEY has written of Henry J. Raymond : * * I
had not much for him to do till the Tribune was started ; then
I had enough ; and I never found another person, barely of age
and just from his studies, who evinced so much and so versatile
ability in journalism as he did. Abler and stronger men I may
have met ; a cleverer, readier, more generally efficient journal-
ist I never saw. He remained with me eight years, if my
memory serves, and is the only assistant with whom I ever felt
required to remonstrate for doing more work than any human
brain and frame could be expected long to endure. His salary
wTas of course gradually increased from time to time ; but his
services were more valuable in proportion to their cost than
those of any one else who ever worked on the Tribune"

The praise here bestowed is just — but Mr. Greeley's mem-
ory is at fault. Mr. Raymond served upon the New-Yorker and
the Tribune less than three years in all, — from December, 1840
to April, 1841, on the New- Yorker ; and from 1841 to 1843 on
the Tribune; the latter year being the date of his secession
from the Tribune to join General Webb in the Courier and
Enquirer. But Mr. Greeley is entirely right in the tribute he
pays to Mr. Raymond's qualities as an efficient worker.

Raymond set out with a resolute purpose, not only to estab-
i

* "Recollections of a Busy Life," pp. 138-9.

ANCHORED. 33

lish his own reputation as a journalist, but also to gain for the
Tribune the patronage and the confidence of the reading pub-
lic. To these ends he bent all his energies, and to his untiring
perseverance and his marked capacity the new journal owed a
very large share of its early success. He wrote editorial arti-
cles, clipped paragraphs from the exchanges, made up the
news, prepared reviews of new books, reported the proceed-
ings of public meetings, and did with all his might whatever
his hand found to do ; receiving, as the reward of all this
wearing labor upon a daily newspaper, which required his ser-
vices half the night, the same salary of eight dollars per week
which had been paid him for the lighter and pleasanter day's
work of a weekly journal !

Among the signal successes achieved by Raymond, in the early
days of his service for the Tribune, was the reporting of the
scientific lectures delivered in New York by Dr. Dionysius
Larclner, — a popular lecturer, very much overrated, who was
then at the height of his celebrity. The lectures were deliv-
ered in that cxtraorcUnary old church in Broadway called the
"Tabernacle," long since pulled down, in which Jenny Lind
declined to sing because it was w an old tub," — and so it was.
Raymond, always swift-handed, had a stenographic system of
his own, a kind of long-short-hand, by the use of which he was
able to follow an ordinary speaker very closely ; and his reports
of Lardncr's remarks proved to be so accurate that the doctor
adopted them, and with slight revision they were afterwards
published in two octavo volumes. But on the night when the
last lecture of the course was delivered, Raymond fell ill.
( 'oiniiig out from the heated church, he found a tempest raging,
and reached the Tribune office only after a thorough drench-
ing. Sitting for hours in wet clothes, he finished his report, —
a very long and excellent one, — and wont to his home in the
Hinall hours of the morning, to wake next day in a violent
fever. His room was on the upper floor of a boarding-house
on the corner of Vesey and Church streets ; his means were
limited; the attendance was poor; fare was scanty; neither
family nor friends were near him ; it was altogether an unpleas-
ant predicament. But he pulled through bravely. He had

34 HEXRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

sickened in the service of the Tribune; and, as has too often
occurred in Mr. Greele^v's establishment, hard service was in-
adequately rewarded. Some time elapsed before Greeley went
to inquire about his assistant, the loss of whose aid Avas begin-
ning to tell upon the paper. Then a conversation occurred,
something like this : —

"When will you be well enough to come back?" said
Greeley.

"Never, on the salary you paid me ! " replied Raymond.

Greeley inquired how much Raymond wanted. " Twenty
dollars a week ! " said Raymond. Greeley protested angrily
that he could pay no such price ; but he finally yielded, and
the previous relations were restored.

Mr. Raymond, in conversation with the writer of these
pages, ten years later, alluded to this tilt with Mr. Greeley;
and in speaking of the Times — then on the eve of publication
— observed that he desired no man to perform services for his
own paper for the inadequate remuneration he had himself
received during his connection with the Tribune. When
Raymond took his stand for pay equivalent to the value of the
services rendered, Greeley yielded ; but so long as .the sub-
ordinate did not rebel, the chief did not relent. It is the mis-
fortune of some men to be too patient ; of others, to be exact-
ing and ungenerous. The relative positions of Henry J.
Raymond and Horace Greeley at this period of their lives
furnish striking illustrations of the result of such conditions.

A pleasant reminiscence of Mr. Raymond's connection with
the Tribune was given by Mr. Thomas McElrath, at a dinner
given at Delmonico's, in New York, on the 10th of April, 1866,
in commemoration of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the birth
of that journal. Mr. McElrath, alluding to the gentlemen
originally engaged upon the Tribune, said that Mr. Raymond
had contributed greatly towards securing the recognition of the
journal as a leading newspaper of the day. He spoke of Mr.
Raymond as an able and graphic reporter, who possessed the
faculty of presenting to his readers a pen-picture of events as
they transpired, in a manner scarcely ever equalled by any
journalist. Mr. McElrath " alluded particularly to the reports

ANCHORED. 35

made l>y Mr. Raymond of the celebrated Colt murder case,
which at the time occupied the, attention of the whole country ,
and also to the equally celebrated Mackenzie trial. These
cases were sketched at length in the columns of the Tribune bv
Mr. Raymond, in an elaborate and attractive manner. Mr.
McElrath said that these reports added several thousand sub-
scribers to their list during the pendency of the trials, and that
nearly all who were thus induced to become patrons of that
paper, continued until the journal became an established insti-
tution." *

In 1843, however, wearied by long and ill-paid service, —
and somewhat disgusted withal, — Mr. Raymond accepted a
good offer from the proprietors of the Courier and Enquirer,
and turned his back forever upon Mr. Greeleyand the Tribune.
A new phase of his life had begun.

Here let us pause, to undertake a passing review of the
course of New York Journalism. In order to arrive at a correct
understanding of the radical changes which Mr. Raymond was
instrumental in introducing into the conduct of great news-
papers in New York, it is essential to remember the character-
istics of the journals which had existed for many years before
his appearance in the field of contest.

36 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER V.

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK — 1840 TO 1850.

EAST-GOING NEWSPAPERS — THE OLD "BLANKET SHEETS" — EDITORIAL DUELS AND

HORSE-AVHIPPINGS MR. W. C. BRYANT'S REMINISCENCES THE COURIER AND

ENQUIRER THE JOURNAL OF COMMERCE — THE EVENING POST THE COM-
MERCIAL ADVERTISER THE HERALD HOW BENNETT STARTLED THE CITY OF

NEW YORK THE SUN THE TRIBUNE AS A CHEAP AND RESPECTABLE PAPER

FIERCE RIVALRIES OLD METHODS OF GETTING NEWS — SHARP PRACTICE

— PONY EXPRESSES — STEALING LOCOMOTIVE ENGINES — CARRIER-PIGEONS —

SETTING TYPE ON BOARD OF STEAMBOATS HOW RAYMOND REPORTED

WEBSTER'S SPEECH — THE VOYAGE OF MONROE F. GALE ACROSS THE ATLANTIC

— THE PILOT-BOAT WILLIAM J. ROMER IN THE ICE — PERSONALITIES — JAMES
WATSON WEBB'S RIDICULE OF HORACE GREELEY'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE —
GREELEY'S REPLY — THE TRIBUNE'S " SLIEVEGAMMON " HOAX — BURNING OF
THE TRIBUNE OFFICE — THE TIDE CHANGING.

THE easy style of journalism prevailed in New York prior
to 1840. -The heavy, old-fashioned, "blanket sheet" news-
paper, with which the steady merchant of pure Knickerbocker
descent had been accustomed to season his morning cup of
coffee, and the equally huge evening sheet which conduced to
his post-prandial repose, were the best he or his fathers had
known. Those days were serious. No flippant flings disturbed
the equable flow of journalistic inanity. When two editors
differed, one shot the other, quietly, in a duel ; or else there
was a lively horsewhipping scene in the public streets, a full
description of which appeared, on the following day, in the
newspapers owned by the horsewhipped men.* There was no
telegraph before the year 1843 ; there were no fast ocean
steamers till a period still later ; no Associated Press organiza-
tion simplified the processes of obtaining news. In fact, —
and justice requires it to be said, — it was not until James

* See the Commercial Advertiser, the Courier and Enquirer, aud the Herald of
the period.

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YOIJK. 37

Gordon Bennett set the example, in 1835, that the conductors
of public journals cared to publish intelligence too freshly.
Like epicures, they waited for the food to age. All the old
and heavy- weighted journals, which lazily got themselves be-
fore the New York public, day by day, thirty years ago, were
undeniably sleepy. Their dulness and inaptness had become
traditional by long custom ; and a remarkable illustration of
this is afforded by a passage in Mr. William C. Bryant's "Rem-
iniscences of the Evening Post" — a very readable review of
the first half-century of that journal, — which was first pub-
lished in its columns in November, 1851, and was subsequently
reprinted in a shilling pamphlet, now out of print. Mr. Bry-
ant wrote : —

" In the Evening Post, during the first twenty years of its
existence, there was much less discussion of public questions by
the editors than is now common in all classes of newspapers.
The editorial articles were mostly brief, with but occasional
exceptions ; nor does it seem to have been regarded, as it now
is, necessary for a daily paper to pronounce a prompt judgment
on every question of a public nature the moment it arises.
The animal message sent by Mr. Jefferson to Congress, in 1801,
was published in the Evening Post of the 12th of December,
without a word of remark. On the 17th, a writer, who takes
the signature of Lucius Cassias, begins to examine it. The
examination is continued through the whole winter; and,
finally, after having extended to eighteen numbers, is concluded
on the 8th of April. The resolutions of General Smith, for
the abrogation of discriminating duties, laid before Congress
in the same winter, were published without comment ; but a
few <lavs afterwards they were made the subject of a carefully
written animadversion, continued through several numbers of
that paper."

The ruthless Bennett shocked the staid propriety of his time
by introducing the rivalries and the spirit of enterprise which
have ever since been distinguishing characteristics of New
York newspaper life. The only cheap papers, in 1840, which
pretended, with any show of reason, to publish all the news of
lay, were the llcruld . and Moses Y. Beach's $un; and

38 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

although the former of these was low and often scurrilous, and
the latter silly, they attracted readers among the younger in-
habitants of New York, who had begun to tire of the Dutch
phlegm.

It was a shrewd movement of Horace Greeley to take ad-
vantage of this change in popular sentiment. He says of the
first number of the Tribune, issued April 10, 1841: "It
was a small sheet, for it was to be retailed for a cent, and not
much of a newspaper could be afforded for that prjce, even in
those specie-paying times. I had been incited to this enter-
prise by several Whig friends, who deemed a cheap daily, ad-
dressed more especially to the laboring class, eminently needed
in our city, where the only two cheap journals then and still
existing — the Sun and the Herald — were in decided, though
unavowed, and therefore more effective, sympathy and affilia-
tion with the Democratic party. Two or three had promised
pecuniary aid if it should be needed ; only one (Mr. James
Coggeshall, long since deceased) ever made good that promise,
by loaning me one thousand dollars, which was duly and grate-
fully repaid, principal and interest."

Cheap papers — three in number — having thus come into
existence, the sixpenny mammoths began to gasp. Their day
was done. From 1843 to 1850, indeed, Raymond made a
strong effort to restore to Webb's Courier and Enquirer some
measure of its departed glory, and his celebrated discussion with
Greeley on the subject of Socialism gave it a temporary re-
vival ; but he became discouraged with the effort, and finally
established the Times. The Times lived, and the Courier and
Enquirer died. In the eternal fitness of things, hoary age thus
gave place to lusty youth. The old Journal of Commerce,
which still exists, lives because the older men died out of it, or
left it, and the red blood came in ; and it is to-day one of the
four papers* in New York which return enormous profits.

Between the extremes of dull respectability and bold inde-
cency, of portentous heaviness and unsubstantial froth, came

* The Herald, the Times, the Journal of Commerce, and the Evening Post, —
each of which made clear annual profits of from fifty thousand to one hundred
and twenty-five thousand dollars, in 18G8-9.

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Greeley's Tribune. It was the first of a long lino of cheap and
good newspapers, some of which still live and prosper, but
many more long since sank into ntter oblivion ; even the dili-
gent collector of curiosities has difficulty to-day in discover-
ing stray copies of them.

The next development in order was the fierce rivalry which
is always born of opposition. Beach and Bennett, who had
been tilting in their private lists, united to bear down Gree-
ley. Horace, however, was a good fighter, and he had Ray-
mond to help him, and McElrath* to manage the business
affairs, and so the battle was waged without material injury to
either party, for in reality there was room for all. The read-
ing public enjoyed the fun, and bought all the papers engaged
in quarrel, in order to see which had won ; and this continued
and growing demand was fuel to the fire of competitive activ-
ity.

On election nights, the rival journals ran pony expresses to
convey early intelligence of results ; and in times of high polit-
ical excitement, locomotive engines were raced on rival lines
of railroad, in the interest of papers which had paid high prices
for the "right of way." The writer has a vivid remembrance
of one night in the office of the Tribune, Avhen a special mes-
senger, hot and dusty, came in from the east end of Long
Island, with important election returns from Patchogue or
Quogue, or some other queer place, brought by special engine
at the rate of sixty-five miles an hour (on the Long Island Kail-
road too!). The yell of joy which Grecley uttered when he
saw the "returns " might have been heard a quarter of a mile.
As goes Quogue, so goes the Union ; and the returns in ques-
tion settled the fate of a district.

Instances of sharp practice, too, were not wanting. On one
occasion, a messenger for the Tribune quietly gathered up the

* In an unpublished letter, written In 1845, Mr. Greeley paid this striking
tribute to Mr. McElrath: "In the fall of 1841, a kind Providence im-
pelled Mr. Thomas McKlrath, formerly a bookseller, ' then a lawyer and
master in chancery, to call on me and suggest the idea of a partnership. I
gladly closed with him on any terms, and from that day to this not another
hair has been worn off my head by the aching puzzle of studying out the
means of paying to-morrow's note."

40 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

details of some important news, in a distant pail of the country,
and then ran away with it to New York on an engine which was
in waiting, under a full head of steam, for the use of the repre-
sentative of the Herald. Of course, the Tribune had the news
exclusively ; and Bennett, very naturally, uttered blasphemies.
Such occurrences gave zest to the pursuit of intelligence, and
sometimes provoked acrimonious discussions between the rival
sheets.

Nor was the competition confined to enterprises like these.
For want of the boundless facilities now afforded by the organ-
ized enterprise of the newspaper offices, there were curious
experiments in unexpected directions. Type was set on board
of North Eiver steamboats by corps of printers, who had a
speech ready for the press in New York eight hours after its
delivery in Albany.* Carrier-pigeons, carefully trained, flew
from Halifax or Boston with the latest news from Europe
tucked under their wings, and delivered their charge to their
trainer in his room near Wall Street ; and an excellent gentle-
man, Mr. Monroe F.'Gale, who has been the foreman of the

* This feat was once performed under Henry J. Raymond's direction, and
the story was told after his death, with substantial correctness, in one of the
current biographical sketches, from which we copy : —

" Before the clays of the telegraph [1843], Raymond was sent to Boston to
report a speech of Daniel Webster, then in the height of his popularity.
Rival city journals also despatched their reporters, each selecting for the pur-
pose two of their best short-hand writers to work against Mr. Raymond.
The speech was delivered, and proved to be one of Mr. Webster's greatest
achievements. The several New York reporters took the night-boat to return
to New York, and all, save Mr. Raymond, gave themselves up to such enjoy-
ment during the evening as the boat afforded. Mr. Raymond sat quietly in
the buck cabin, and was observed to be writing furiously. Presently one of
the reporters had his suspicions aroused, and setting out on an exploring
expedition, found that Mr. Raymond had on board a small printing-office, fully
equipped. His manuscript was taken page by page to the compositors, set
up immediately, and on the arrival of the boat in New York, at five o'clock iu
the morning, Mr. Raymond's report, making several columns of the Tribune,
was all in type. These columns were put into the forms at once, and the
readers of that journal were, at six A. M., served with a full report of Daniel
Webster's speech delivered in Boston on the previous afternoon. This, at
that time, was one of the greatest journalistic feats on record, and so com-
pletely astonished and astounded the Tribune's rivals that they never pub-
lished the reports furnished by their short-hand writers, but ackucwledged
themselves fairly beateu."

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK. 41

Times' composing-room since the foundation of that paper, was
sent sailing over the Atlantic, in a little pilot-boat, in quest of
improved methods of news-getting.

The episode of this madcap voyage across the ocean dates
back to the year 1846, and is interesting enough to be recorded
among the reminiscences of the older journalism of New
York.

In the early part of the year 1846 there were no fast steam-
ers ; seven-day voyages across the Atlantic were supposed to
be wild vagaries, — even, indeed, if the idea of attaining such
a degree of reckless speed had ever entered the brain of any
sane man. Nevertheless, the spirit had been awakened which
was to produce this and all other wonders. The eager quest
for fresh news had begun to mark the conduct of the public
journals of New York as a distinguishing characteristic ; and
the adventurous voyage of the pilot-boat William J. Romcr was
but a natural expression of the prevalent feeling of the clay.
The immediate purpose of her despatch to Europe was the
prompt conveyance of the Oregon Treaty to England ; but an
incidental point was a test of the speed of light-built boats.

A contemporaneous narrative* gives a full account of the
voyage of the B-omer, together with a copy of the log kept by
her captain, the comments of the press of the day upon the
probable purpose of the expedition, and five wood-engravings,
illustrating some of the perils through which the little craft
safely passed. One of these illustrations we reproduce ; it
represents the boat in mid-ocean, environed by fields of bro-
ken ice.

The William J. Homer belonged to the fleet of New York
pilot-boats. Her burden was about fifty tons. The equipment
for the long and perilous winter voyage across three thousand
miles of sea was made as perfect as the circumstances per-
mitted; but the discomforts endured by her courageous crew,
and the passengers she carried, were sufficiently disagreeable.
She left New York on Tuesday, February 10, 1846, and on the"

*Grcclcy's revived New-Yorker, of Saturday, April 18, 1846, — a weekly
paper then issued as au adjunct to the Tribune.

42 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

7th of March she was anchored in the harbor of Cork, Ireland ;
having thus occupied nearly twenty-five days in making the
trip. She was beaten in the race by the sailing packet Pat-
rick Henry, which had also left New York on the 10th of Feb-
ruary. Fast-sailing yachts have since made better time across
the ocean ; but the voyage of the Romer is an important part
of the history of early journalism in New York ; and if the ex-
periment failed, it was through no want of daring or of skill on
the part of those who handled her.*

An incident of this period of NCTC York journalism should
here be cited, in illustration of the animosities and personal
abuse which too often found public expression. The Courier
and Enquirer, having been worsted in an argument with the
Tribune, took its revenge in unmannerly and wholly unjusti-
fiable abuse of Greeley. The blackguardism of which Webb
was guilty in 1844 might have been forgotten, but for the dig-
nified and caustic rejoinder it drew forth from Greelej'.
Greeley was so merciless, and Webb so completely quelled,
that the brief controversy attracted general attention. Twen-
ty-six years have since gone by, but the articles are still worth
reading.

In the Courier and Enquirer of January 27, 1844, appeared
the following : —

"The editor of the Tribune is nn Abolitionist; we precisely the reverse.
He is a philosopher; we are a Christian. He is a pupil of Graham, and
would have all the world live. upon brau-bread and sawdust; we are in favor
of living as our fathers did, and of enjoying in moderation the good things
which Providence has bestowed upon us. He is the advocate of the Fourier-"
ism, Socialism, and all the tomfooleries which have given birth to the debas-
ing and disgusting spectacles of vice and immorality which Fanny Wright,
Collins, and others exhibit He seeks for notoriety by pretend-
ing to great eccentricity of character and habits, and by the strangeness of
his theories and practices; we, on the contrary, are content with following in
the beateu path, and accomplishing the good we can, iu the old-fashioned
way. He lays claim to greatness by wandering through the streets with a
hat double the size of his head, a coat after the fashion of Jacob's of old,
with one leg of his pantaloons inside and the other outside of his boot, and
with boots all bespattered with mud, or, possibly, a shoe on one foot and a
boot on the other, and glorying in an unwashed and unshaven person. We,
on the contrary, eschew all such affectation as weak and silly; we think

* For a detailed account of the voyage, see Appendix F.

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORE. 43

there is a difference between notoriety and distinction; we recognize the
social obligation to act and dress according to our station in life ; and we
look upon cleanliness of person as inseparable from purity of thought and
benevolence of heart. In short, there is not the slightest resemblance be-
tween the editor of the Tribune and ourself, politically, morally, or socially ;
and it is only when his affectation and impudence are unbearable, that we
condescend to notice him or his press."

In the Tribune of the following day appeared this reply : —

" It is true that the Editor of The Tribune chooses mainly (not entirely)
vegetable food ; but he never troubles his readers on the subject ; it does not,

worry them; why should it concern the Colonel? It is hard

for philosophy that so humble a man shall be made to stand as its exemplar,
while Christianity is personified by the hero of the Sunday duel with Hon.
Tom Marshall ; but such luck will happen. As to our personal appearance,

it does seem time that we should say something Some donkey,

a while ago, apparently anxious to assail or annoy the Editor of this paper,
and not well knowing with what, originated the story of his carelessness of
personal appearance ; and since then, every blockhead of the same disposi-
tion, and distressed b/a similar lack of ideas, has repeated and exaggerated
the foolery, until, from its origin in the Albany Microscope, it has sunk down
at last to the columns of the Courier and Enquirer, growing more absurd
at every landing. Yet, all this time, the object of this silly raillery has
doubtless worn better clothes than two-thirds of those who thus assailed
him, — better than any of them could honestly wear, if they paid their debts
otherwise than by bankruptcy ; while, if they are indeed more cleanly than he,
they must bathe very thoroughly not less than twice each day. The Editor
of the Tribune is the son of a poor and humble farmer; came to New York a
minor, without a friend within two hundred miles, less than ten dollars in
his pocket, and precious little besides; he has never had a dollar from a

relative, and has, for years, labored under a load of debt

Henceforth he may be able to make a better show, if deemed essential by
his friends; for himself he has not much time or thought to bestow on the
matter. That he ever affected eccentricity is most untrue; and certainly no
costume he ever appeared in, would create such a sensation in Broadway, as
that James Watson Webb would have worn, but for the clemency of Gov.
Seward. Heaven grant our assailant may never hang with such weight on
another whig executive ! — We drop him."

Colonel Webb made no reply. Mr. Greeley had flattened
him . *

* The personalities of this period were not confined to attacks by news-
paper editors upon their rivals. Bennett, who had been for five years the
leader in the " personal "department, was very fond of talking about himself;
and the columns of the Hcrnl'l were devoted, at intervals, to accounts of his
private affairs. The most curious specimen is given below, as an illustrative
incident. It is the announcement of the intended marrUure of the Editor of

44 HENEY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Four years later, Greeley's paper became notorious, through
the " Slieveganimon " hoax, which in itself is a curious bit of

the Herald, and it appeared in the leading column of that journal, on the 1st
of June, 1840, under a flaming caption : —

"TO THE READERS OF THE HERALD — DECLARATION OF LOVE — CAUGHT AT
LAST — GOING TO BE MARRIED — NEW MOVEMENT IN CIVILIZATION.

"I am going to be married in a few days. The weather is so beautiful ;
times are getting so good; tne prospects of political and moral reform so
auspicious, that I cannot resist the divine instinct of honest nature any
longer; so I am going to be married to one of the most splendid women in
intellect, in heart, in soul, in property, in person, in manner, that I have yet
seen in the course of my interesting pilgrimage through human life.

..." I cannot stop in my career. I must fulfil that awful destiny which
the Almighty Father has written against my name, in the broad letters of life,
against the wall of heaven. I must give the world a pattern of happy
wedded life, with all the charities that spring from a nuptial love. In a few
days I shall be married according to the holy rites of the most holy Christian
church, to one of the most remarkable, accomplished, and beautiful young
women of the age. She possesses a fortune. I sought and found a fortune — a
large fortune. She has no Stonington shares OF Manhattan stock, but in
purity and uprightness she is worth half a million of pure coin. Can any
swindling bank show as much? In good sense and elegance another half a
million ; in soul, mind and beauty, millions on millions, equal to the whole
specie of all the rotten banks in the world. Happily, the patronage of the
public to the Herald is nearly twenty-five thousand dollars per annum, al-
most equal to a President's salary. But property in the world's goods was
never my object. Fame, public good, usefulness in my day and generation;
the religious associations of female excellence ; the progress of true industry,
— these have been my dreams by night, and my desires by clay.

" In the new and holy condition into which I am about to enter, and to
enter with the same reverential feelings as I would heaven itself, I anticipate
some signal changes in my feelings, in my views, in my purposes, in my pur-
suits. What they may be I know not — time alone can tell. My ardent de-
sire lias been through life, to reach the highest order of human excellence, by
the shortest possible cut. Associated, night and day, in sickness and in
health, in war and in peace, with a woman of this highest order of excellence,
must produce some curious results in my heart and feelings, and these re-
sults the future will develop in due time in the columns of the Herald.

" Meantime, I return my heartfelt thanks for the enthusiastic patronage of
the public, both of Europe and of America. The holy estate of wedlock will
only increase my desire to be still more useful. God Almighty bless you all.

" JAMES GORDON BENNETT."

In the postscript to this announcement, Bennett gives notice that he shall
have no time to waste upon the editors who attacked him, " until after mar-
riage and the honeymoon."

On the 8th of June, 1840, the marriage was announced at the head of the
editorial columns of the Herald, as follows : —

" MARRIED.

" On Saturday afternoon, the 6th instant, by the Rev. Doctor Power, at
St. Peter's Catholic Church, in Barclay street, James Gordon Bennett, the pro-
prietor and editor of the New York Herald, to Henrietta Agnes Crean.
What may be the effect of this event on the great newspaper contest now
waging in New York, time alone can show."

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK. 45

newspaper history. The troubled summer of 1848, when
thrones went down, and blood 'flowed like water, and mr-ii
strove breast to breast with pitiless energy, gave rise to many
false rumors of successes and defeats. But none became so
notable as the Tribune's exclusive intelligence of the Irish bat-
tle of Slievenamon. On the morning of March 28, 1848, the
readers of the morning journals of New York were startled by
a flourish of large type, which announced "The Abdication of
Louis Philippe" — "A Republic Proclaimed" — "Assault on
the Palais Royal" — "Great Loss of Life." It was a time to
stir the blood. Crowns cracked — in two senses; the people
came uppermost, and then, not knowing how to stay up, went
down again. The general purgation was salutary ; but the
medicine was the bayonet, and the remedy was cruel, and, in
the sequel, ineffective. However, the train had been touched,
and the flame of revolt leaped over the Channel, and fell upon
the bundle of inflammable tow called Ireland. In August,
news came that Ireland was "up." As in the days of the Rap-
parees, bog and mountain bristled with pike and gun. Some
bloody fights occurred, but the disciplined valor of the English
bore down the ragged Celt. Then the Irish element in Amer-
ica rushed to the rescue ; a " Directory of the Friends of Ire-
land " was organized in New York, and Horace Greeley
accepted a leading position in it. It was natural, therefore,
that his journal should become the centre of intelligence for
all that related to the Irish struggle.

One day in August the despatches received at the Tribune
office contained letters from Dublin, dated August 3, announc-
ing the battle of Slievenamon in the following terms : —

" No newspaper here [Dublin] dare tell the truth concerning the battle
of Slievenamon; but, from all we can learn, the people have had a great vic-
tory. General Macdonald, the commander of the British forces, is killed, and
six thousand troops arc killed and icounded. The road for three miles is cov-
ered with the dead. We also have the inspiring intelligence that Kilkenny
and Limerick have been taken by the people." The people of Dublin have
gone in thousands to assist in the country. Mr. John B.Dillon was wounded
in both legs. Mr. Meagher was also wounded in both arms. It is generally
expected that Dublin will rise and attack the jails on Sunday night (August

46 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

There was not a word of truth in this. The mountain of
Slieveuamon remained unstained by blood ; General Macdonald
and his six thousand veterans still possessed unpunctured skins ;
Thomas Francis Meagher lived, — to break his parole and then
challenge Henry J. Raymond to fight a duel, because he charged
him with it ; and Horace Greeley was innocent of the hoax,
because he was at the time exploring the shores of Lake Supe-
rior. But the deception did its work, and money came rapidly
into the treasury of the "Directory."

As a matter of course, Bennett pooh-pooh'd the story, and
travestied the name of the hard- won battle into " Slievegam-
mon," by which title it has since been generally known. Had
the Herald received the news exclusively, instead of the Trib-
une, the complexion of the affair would have been changed,
and that sheet would have preserved a decorous silence as soon
as the hoax became apparent.

And this was the end of the battle of Slievenarnon.

The dingy building, in which the early years of the Tribune
were passed, was burned in February, 1845, and the reappear-
ance of the paper on the following morning, although at the
time the proprietors did not know but they were irretrievably
ruined, was regarded by its admirers and opponents alike as
an example of enterprise deserving the warmest praise. It
was a profitable fire for the Tribune. Mr. Greeley and Mr.
McElrath stood musing upon the ruins only for a brief period,
and then turned to their work as naturally as if nothing had
happened. The paper appeared on the following morning, only
an hour behind its usual time ; and its patrons vied with the
conductors of the opposition journals, in extending a helping
hand.*

* Mr. Greeley's "Reflections over the Fire," which appeared in the columns
of the Tribune on the morning after the catastrophe, deserve to be re-
corded. He wrote in this good-humored strain : —

" We would not indulge in unnecessary sentiment, but even the old desk
at which we sat, the ponderous inkstand, the familiar faces of files of corre-
spondence, the choice collection of pamphlets, the unfinished essay, the charts
by which we steered, — can they all have vanished, never more to be seen?
Truly, your fire makes clean work, and is. of all executive officers, super-

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK. 47

Upon the site of the old building rose the present one, —
Slamm's Plebeian disappearing from the little gore of land
upon the corner which it had occupied, — and in the ensuing
autumn, the Tribune was fully reinstated, having added strength
to its editorial force, and improved its facilities for conducting
business. A year or two later it passed from the sole proprie-
torship of Greeley & McElrath, into the management of a joint-
stock company, which has since controlled its fortunes.

In the period often years from 1840 to 1850, therefore, four
important events in New York journalism had occurred.
First, the heavy old papers had been startled, and their power
shaken, by the advent of the Herald; secondly, a spirit of
eager rivalry had been awakened, which ensured the prompt
collection of the news of the day ; thirdly, the Tribune had
become the established organ of the respectable part of the
community, appealing directly to, and receiving ample support
from, a large class which had long forsaken Bennett, on account
of his indecency ; and, fourthly, it had been proved that a
cheap paper could exist in Xew York without pandering to the
criminal, or attempting to please the vulgar. To Bennett
must be given the credit of effecting a revolution in the mcth-

eminent. Perhaps that last choice batch of letters may be somewhere on
file; we are almost tempted to cry, 'Devil! find it up I' Poh ! it is a mere
cinder now; some

" ' Fathoms deep my letter lies ;
Of its lines is tinder made.1

"No Arabian tale can cradle a wilder fiction, or show better how altogether
illusory life is. Those solid walls of brick; those five decent stories ;"those
steep and difficult stairs; the swing doors; the sanctum, scene of many a
deep political drama, of many a pathetic tale, — utterly whiffed out, as one
summarily snuffs out a spermaceti on retiring for the night. And all per-
fectly true.

" One always has some private satisfaction in his own particular mi*ery.
Consider what a night it was that burnt us out, that we were conquered by
the elements, went up in flames heroically on the wildest, windiest, stormiest
night these do/en years, not by any fault of human enterprise, but fairly
conquered by stress of weather; there was a great flourish of trumpets, ar
all events.

"And consider, above all, that salamander safe; how, after all. the lire.
assisted by the elements, only came oft' second best, not being able to reduee
that safe into ashes. That is the streak of sunshine through the dun wreaths
of smoke; the combat of human ingenuity against tin1 desperate encounter
of the seething heat. But those boots, and Webster's Dictionary — well!
we mere handsomely whipped there, we acknowledge."

48 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

ods of news-getting ; but to Greeley the higher praise of im-
proving upon Bennett's invention. James Gordon Bennett
and Horace Greeley were, in fact, the John Fitch and Robert
Fulton of New York journalism.

When the tide began to change, the stream of journalistic
life began to broaden,, and from this point onward the record
covers a larger field.

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK. 49

CHAPTEK VI.

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK. — CONTINUED.

PERIODS IN JOURNALISM — THE EXPANSION OP THE PRESS AND THE PROGRESS
OF CIVILIZATION — THE PIONEER FOLLOWED BY THE PRINTER — USELESS
PAPERS DEAD — CONDITION OF THE NEW YORK PRESS TWENTY YEARS AGO —
HOW THE HERALD AND THE TRIBUNE FELL INTO DISREPUTE — HENRY J.
RAYMOND CREATING A NEW ERA IN JOURNALISM — THE GERM OF HIS FU-
TURE SUCCESS.

THERE are periods in Journalism, as in art, science, trade,
commerce, and the whole range of literature. The rapid
growth of knowledge, and the continual increase of the facili-
ties of travel and intercommunication, are followed in regular
order by the expansion of the Press and by the enlargement of
its legitimate power. Two centuries ago the world's pace was
moderate, and its wants were few ; ships spread their canvas
only to favoring winds ; stage-coaches rumbled slowly over
ill-made roads ; mail-bags convoyed to distant places tidings
of events which had occurred three months, six months, or a
year before ; kings were acknowledged to rule by a right en Hod
divine ; discoveries were rare, inventions rarer, and the great
mass of the population of the world sodden. Newspapers es-«
pecially were stupid, for the excellent reason that there were
few readers who cared to receive them; or, receiving, wore
able to understand thorn. Macaulay has written of the English
Press at the close of the seventeenth century, — and the Eng-
lish Press then was the best in the world, — that the leading
papers wore wretchedly printed, and that " what is now called
a leading article seldom appeared, except when there was ;i
scarcity of intelligence, when the Dutch mails were detained by
the west wind, when the Rapparces were quiet in the Bog of
Allen, when no stage-coach had been stopped by highwaymen.

50 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

when no non-juring congregation had been dispersed by consta-
bles, when no ambassador had made his entry with a long train
of coaches and six, when no lord or poet had been buried in
the Abbey, and when consequently it was difficult to fill up
four scant}' pages." The progress of civilization, however,
producing gradual changes in all the relations of life, has given
greater breadth to the world's Diary, which we call the News-
paper ; and so marked is this effect that Mr. Buckle records it
among the proofs of human development. In a meddling
spirit, and with mistaken notions of protection, "great Chris-
tian governments," he observes, " have made strenuous and re-
peated efforts to destroy the liberty of the press, and prevent
men from expressing their sentiments on the most important
questions in politics and religion." * Such efforts always fail.

The history of the American Press, properly arranged and
conscientiously elaborated, is yet to be written. The whole
period to be covered by such a record would scarcely exceed
a century ; for the newspapers printed in colonial times were
chiefly weak and indigent, and it is not extravagant to aver
that seven decades include all the days in which our Press has
been recognized as a power. The history of the rise and growth
of this power would be an important contribution to the his-
tory of the United States ; for but a moment's thought is required,
to trace the steps by which the general progress of our Press
has kept pace with the development of the nation. The Pi-
oneer has been closely followed by the Printer ; the influential
editor, who began to be recognized as a political leader when
the present century came in, has become the peer of states-
men and scholars in the higher stages of civilization; the
public journal is the object of daily consideration in the coun-
cils of government.

Free Americans read continually ; and in regard to news-
papers they are omnivorous. There is a clientage for every
class of journal ; and while our population undergoes its an-
nual changes by natural accretion, or through the agencies of
immigration, the supply keeps pace with the growing demand.

* History of Civilization, i., 206.

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK. 51

Every calling has its mouth-piece, every political party its or-
gan, every sect its weekly journal or its monthly magazine.
The numbers multiply in the ratio of the growth of the in-
terests represented ; and each publication finds a support more
or less ample, according to the wealth, position, or influence
of the class upon whose patronage it depends. As each das-
increases in numbers, weight, or power, a demand arises for a
journal to represent it. And thus new papers continually ap-
pear, devoted to specialties, or baited to please the taste prev-
alent at the moment.

The American newspapers which failed to interpret obvious
signs died, as they should have died, when they became un-
representative, useless, dull, and bankrupt ; and out of the
long list of newspapers familiar to our grandfathers, barely
half a dozen still survive, — so transformed that only the old
names suggest what they were half a century ago.* But the
new are constantly springing up, for the American habit of
establishing newspapers is wholly ineradicable. The unea-\
American mind must find expression in type. When our sol-
diers went to Mexico to fight, they started a paper. When
our army captured a southern city, in the recent war, a cor-
poral's guard of printers stepped out of the ranks to edit and
print a journal. If a quack desire notoriety, he buys a news-
paper and has it all to himself; and one man in New England
finds relief for a surcharged mind in writing out a weekly
sheet, four inches by six, every letter in which he prints by
hand, and every word of which is his own composition. This
latter is the only instance on record of a man being his own
editor, printer, publisher, and reader. He is happy in his
conceit, and as the copies cannot conveniently be multiplied,
the public arc happy in their release from at least one paper
which uselessly insists upon living.

A thousand miles of new country on the Great Plains now

* The Journal of Commerce, established in New York by Arthur Tappan, in
the year 1827, is the only survivor of the morning papers then in existence
in the city. The oldest existing evening paper in New York is the Commer-
cial Advertiser, which was founded in 1794, and the next in chronological
order is the Evening Post, which dates from 1801.

52 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

lie open to travel, and trade, and civilization, by the comple-
tion of the Pacific Railway. Has it occurred to the reader
how many thousands of newspapers that region will produce ?
The pr6spect would be appalling, but for the consoling reflec-
tion that the habit of shooting newspaper editors at sight still
prevails to a considerable extent in the far West !

So long as the world moves, however, human interest in hu-
man affairs will remain a human sentiment, and as this interest
crystallizes in the solid substance we call the Press, we must
be content to take all that comes, bearing patiently with bush-
els of wretched and iunutritious chaff, in the hope of discover-
ing plump and comely kernels.

But this is a digression from the subject in hand.

Twenty years ago the reading public of New York began to
hunger. Their daily newspapers had become insufficient and
unsatisfactory. The Courier and Enquirer, despite the mag-
netism of Raymond and his assistants, who did their best to
galvanize it, was dull. The Journal of Commerce was eminently
respectable, but its contents consisted of market reports, the
news of the Stock Board, and personal quarrels with James
Watson Webb. The Express was a morning paper, quite be-
hind the times. The Sun — not then, as now, saucy, brilliant,
fully alive to the wants of the day— was read chiefly by
domestics in quest of employment, and by cartmen dozing at
street-corners in waiting for a job. The Evening Post pub-
lished one edition only, —at half-past two in the afternoon, —
and was notable chiefly for its vigorous espousal of the doctrine
of Free Trade and its high literary tone. The Commercial
Advertiser was the bitter rival of the Evening Post, — a condi-
tion which long since ceased, for the latter has srone to the

o * o

head-rank of the afternoon journals of New York. The Herald
was filled, day by day, with printed filth. The Tribune had
got into bad ways, — mainly through its editor's enthusiastic
advocacy of the theories of Charles Fourier. The day for a
new paper had arrived ; and as the vacuum had been gradually
created, so, too, natural forces had been in operation to pro-
duce the means of filling it.

The choice left to newspaper readers in New York, in

PROGRESS OF JOURNALISM IN NEW YORK. 53

1850, was Hobson's : either the sixpenny journals of Wall
street, with meagre supplies of news, — or the cheaper Trib-
une and Herald, with all the intelligence of the day overlaid
and almost extinguished by the Socialistic heresies of the one
and the abominable nastiness of the other. Heads of families
feared to take the Tribune to their homes, because its teach-
ings were the apotheosis of vice. They could get their tidings
of the news of the world through Bennett's Herald only at the
cost of wading through heaps of rubbish. The predicament
was unpleasant ; and the man who saw it clearly, and deter-
mined to apply the remedy, was Henry Jarvis Raymond.
His remedy was the Times. It was effective ; and the history
of its operation is the history of a new era in the Journalism
of Xew York, — an era of decency, of grace, of enterprise, and
of success.

Mr. Raymond was mainly the instrument of effecting the
radical change of which he was swift to take advantage. His
early and merciless attacks upon the doctrines of Socialism
were the direct cause of bringing the Tribune into disrepute,
and putting into the field a rival to the Herald; and in his cel-
ebrated discussion with Mr. Greeley, in the columns of the
Courier and Enquirer, la}- the germ of his own subsequent vic-
tory as a journalist. Although the period upon which he was
to leave the impress of his hand w-is virtually of his own cre-
ation, he was himself really unconscious of the vigor of the
blows he struck ; yet the effects of his fierce encounter with the
enemy of Virtue and Religion were visible long after the tour-
nament had ended.

— It is now time to trace the rise and progress of the Social-
istic element in New York Journalism.

54 HENEY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER VII.

AN OLD TAIXT.

THE SOCIALISTS TWENTY-TWO TEARS AGO — HORACE GREELET AND ALBERT BRIS-
BANE THE TRIBUNE, THE FUTURE, AND THE HARBINGER ZEALOUS ICONO-
CLASTS — THE FALSE PRETENCES OF FOURIERISM — SOCIALISTIC FAILURES

THE TRIBUNE IN DISREPUTE RAYMOND'S ATTACKS UPON SOCIALISM —

THE CELEBRATED DISCUSSION BETWEEN GREELEY AND RAYMOND — THE
MERITS AND DEMERITS OF SOCIALISM.

" THE propagation in this country of Fourier's ideas of Indus-
trial Association " — observes Horace Greeley, in his volume
of autobiography * — " was wholly pioneered by Mr. A. Bris-
bane, who presented them in a series of articles in the Tribune,
beginning in 1841, and running through two or three years.
The Future — a weekly entirely devoted to the subject — was
issued for a few weeks, but received no considerable support,
and was therefore discontinued. The Haibinger, a smaller
weekly, was afterwards issued from the Brook Farm Associa-
tion, and sustained — not without loss — for two or three
years. Meantime, several treatises, explaining and commend-
ing the system, were published, — the best of them being
" Democracy, Pacific and Constructive," by Mr. Parke Godwin,
of the Evening Post. The problem was further discussed in a
series of controversial letters between Mr. Henry J. Eaymond
and myself. Thus, by persevering eifort, the subject was
thrust, as it were, on public attention."

Mr. Greeley further tells us that his own observations of ex-
treme destitution, in the wretched corners of the sixth ward in
the city of New York, had inspired him with a desire to solve
the problems of labor ; and that accordingly he published a
series of articles in the New-Yorker in 1839-40, under the

* " Recollections of a Busy Life," p. 151.

AX OLD TAINT. 55

title, "What shall be done for the Laborer?" — in which the
social question was discussed. These papers attracted the at-
tention of Mr. Brisbane, who was at that time a resident of
Batavia, in the State of New York, having just returned from
Paris. In the course of widely extended travels abroad,
Mr. Brisbane had made the acquaintance of the social reformers
known as the St. Simonians, after their leader, and had become
a disciple of Charles Fourier. In 1840, Mr. Brisbane published
in the United States the first of his long series of writings in

O O

defence of Socialism : — it was an exposition of Fourier's in-
dustrial system. Mr. Greeley's outburst of philanthropy in
the New-Yorker, at the same period, drew the two men together
in a bond of sympathy ; and for many years, thereafter they
labored in unison, with a degree of zeal which might have pro-
duced tangible results had it been accompanied by discretion.
The zealous man who shows himself to be nothing but an icon-
oclast usually fails, — and this was what befell Greeley. The
whole Socialist heresy, which created a tempest twenty-five
years ago, and which struggled along a very thorny path until
the year 1855, when it died a natural death, and passed into a
tradition, after having crazed some, ruined others, and di-or-
ganized whole communities, was kept alive in its earlier clays
by the influence, the arguments, the persistency of the Tribune.
The truth of history requires this record, and the proof is at
hand.

Fourierism means license. Under the guise of philanthropy,
of the reform of social abuses, of a desire for the elevation of
labor, of a demand for equal and exact justice to all men, its
advocates seek to disrupt the ties which make the family rela-
tion sacred, and communities happy and prosperous. The re-
formers who assume the lofty title of " social architects" too
often t\)rget in their own lives to establish their theory of an
exalted moral sense ; for

. . . " the difference is too nice

Where ends the virtue or begins the vice ; "

and the conspicuous failures of the Socialistic companies, which
have from time to time associated themselves together for prac-

56 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

tical experiment, point unerringly to inherent causes of weak-
ness and decay. The Brook Farm Community, in Massachusetts,
— one of the earliest and certainly the best of all these curious
experiments in social life, for it counted in the member-
ship brilliant men and women who have since become famous in
literature, — lived five years, struggling fitfully in its later
days, and dying bankrupt. The Xorth American Phalanx, in
New Jersey, which endured for thirteen years many vicissitudes
of fortune, has degenerated into a market-garden, and its hun-
dred members have become scattered, or have died. The Onei-
da Community, which has its principal farm to-day in Central
New York, with a branch establishment in Wallingford, Con-
necticut, is the most prosperous experiment of this kind that
has yet existed ; but its prosperity is chiefly derived from
the co-operative system of well-directed industry, and in no
appreciable degree from its practice of the Socialistic theories.*

* An unpublished work, by a Socialist named A. J. McDonald, contains a
list of the Communistic experiments tried at various times in the United
States. This list is here appended. It shows that the duration of the Com-
munities was for very limited periods, and that there was a prevalent ten-
dency to get into debt : —

EXPERIMENTS OP THE OWEN EPOCH.

Blue Spring Community; Indiana; no particulars, except that it lasted
"but a short time."

Co-operative Society; Pennsylvania; no particulars.

Coxsackie Community ; New York ; capital " small ; " " very much in debt ; "
lasted between one and two years.

Forestville Community ; Indiana; " over sixty members ;" three hundred
and twenty-live acres of land, duration, more than a year.

Franklin Community; New York; no particulars.

Haverstraw Community; New York; about eighty members; one hundred
and twenty acres; debt, twelve thousand dollars; lasted five months.

Kendall Community; Ohio; two hundred members; two hundred aciv>;
dura: ion, about two years.

Macluria; Indiana; one thousand two hundred acres; duration, about two
years.

New Harmony ; Indiana; nine hundred members; thirty thousand acres,
worth one hundred and ninety thousand dollars ; duration, nearly three years.

Naslioba; Tennessee; fifteen members; two thousand acres: duration,
about three years.

Yellow Springs Community; Ohio; seventy-five to one hundred and ninety
families ; lasted three months.

EXPKUIMKXTS OF THE FOURIER EPOCH.

Alphadelphia Phalanx; Michigan; four or five hundred members ; five or
six hundred acres; lasted oue or two years.

AN OLD TAINT. 57

This, however, is not the place to discuss the question of
Socialism, nor to describe in detail the sorry failures which the
disciples of the "New Philosophy" have suffered. The point

Brook Farm ; Massachusetts ; one hundred and fifteen members ; two hun-
dred acres ; duration, five years.

Brookes' Exporimeut; Ohio; few members; no further particulars.

Bureau Co. Phalanx ; Illinois ; small ; no particulars.

Clarkson Industrial Association; New York; four hundred and twenty
members; two thousand acres; lasted from six to nine months.

Columbian Phalanx; Ohio; no particulars.

Garden Grove ; Ohio; no particulars.

Goose Pond Community; Pennsylvania; sixty members; lasted a few
mouths.

Grand Prairie Community; Ohio; no particulars.

llopedale ; Massachusetts ; two hundred members ; six hundred acres ; dura-
tion, not stated, but commonly reported to be seventeen or eighteen years.

Integral Phalanx; Illinois; fourteen families; five hundred and eight acres;
lasted seventeen mouths.

Jefterson County Industrial Association ; New York; four hundred mem-
bers ; three hundred or four hundred acres of laud (which was heavily mort-
gaged and finally sold to pay debts) ; lasted a few months.

Lagrange Phalanx; Indiana; one thousand acres: no further particulars.

Leraysville Phalanx; Pennsylvania; forty members; three hundred acres;
lasted eight mouths.

Marlboro Association ; Ohio ; twenty-four members ; had " a load of debts ; "
lasted nearly four years.

McKeau County Association; Pennsylvania; thirty thousand acres; no
further particulars.

Moorhouse Union ; New York ; one hundred and twenty acres; lasted "a
few mouths."

North American Phalanx ; New Jersey ; one hundred and twelve members ;
MX hundred and seventy-three acres; debt, seventeen thousand dollars;
duration, thirteen years.

Northampton Association ; Massachusetts ; one hundred and thirty mem-
bers; five hundred acres; debt, forty thousand dollars; duration, four years.

Ohio Phalanx ; one hundred members ; two thousand two hundred acres ;
deeply in debt; lasted two mouths.

Clermont Phalanx ; Ohio ; eighty members ; nine hundred acres ; debt,
nineteen thousand dollars; lasted two years or more.

One-mention (meaning probably one mind) Community; Pennsylvania;
eight hundred acres ; lasted one year.

Ontario Phalanx; New York; brief duration.

Prairie Home Community; Ohio; five hundred acres; debt broke it up;
lasted one year.

Karitan Bay Union; New Jersey; few members; two hundred and sixty-
eight acres.

Sangamon Phalanx ; Illinois ; no particulars.

Skaueateles Community ; New York ; one hundred and fifty members ; three
hundred and lilty-four acres ; debt, ten thousand dollars; duration, three or
four years.

Social Reform Unity ; Pennsylvania ; twenty members ; two thousand acres ;
debt, one thousand dollars; lasted about ten mouths.

Soclu.s Bay Phalanx; New York; three hundred members; one thousand
four hundred acres; lasted a " short time."

Spring Farm Association; Wisconsin; ten families; lasted three years.

Sylvania Association; Pennsylvania; one huudn d and t'orty-tive members;

58 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

to be considered here is the effect of the bold advocacy of the
Fourierite doctrines by the Tribune, the Harbinger, and other
journals in the United States, a quarter of a century ago.
This alone has relation to the history of Journalism, which it is
the main purpose of this volume to exhibit.

But for Mr. Greeley's favoritism to Mr. Brisbane, the Trib-
une would not have fallen into the disrepute which threw it
into the background in the year 1851. The Socialist tenden-
cies of that journal, leading it into excesses, produced a natu-
ral result in awakening a feeling of repulsion among a very
large proportion of its early readers and old friends ; and
when, swift to see the drift of the popular current, Henry J.
Raymond attacked Horace Greeley in the memorable discus-
sion of 1846-7, he attracted attention to himself, made a new
reputation for the Courier and Enquirer, and threw out the
first shovelfuls of earth for the track upon which the New
York Times, in later years, was to run smoothly and safely.

" Association Discussed ; or, The Socialism of the Tribune
Examined," was the title given by Mr. Raymond to the
pamphlet edition* of the controversial articles which appeared
in the columns of the Courier and Enquirer and the Tribune,
in the winter of 1846-7. The discussion originated in a letter
from Mr. Albert Brisbane, — published in the Tribune on the

three thousand acres ; debt, seven thousand nine hundred dollars ; lasted
nearly two years.

Trumbull Phalanx; Ohio; four hundred acres; lasted eighteen months.

Washtenaw Phalanx ; Michigan; no particulars.

Wisconsin Phalanx; twenty families ; one thousand eight hundred acres ;
duration, six years.

RECAPITULATION.

The Owen group were distributed among the States as follows : in Indi-
ana, four ; in New York, three ; in Ohio, two ; in Pennsylvania, one ; in Ten-
nessee, one.

The Fourier group were located as follows : in Ohio, nine ; in New
York, six ; in Pennsylvania, six ; in Massachusetts, three ; in Illinois, three ;
in New Jersey, two; in Michigan, two; in Wisconsin, two; in Indiana, one.

Indiana had the greatest number in the first group, and the least in the
second.

Ne\v England was not represented in the Owen group; and only by three
associations in the Fourier group, and these three were all in Massa-
chusetts.

* Published in New York, by Harper and Brothers, in 1847, and long since
out of print.

AN OLD TAINT. 59

19th of August, 1846, and addressed to the editor of the
Courier and Enquirer, — proposing sundry inquiries, to which
specific answers were requested, concerning the scheme of
social reform of which Brisbane WHS the acknowledged advo-
cate. On the 25th of August, Mr. Raymond answered these
inquiries, through the columns of the Courier and Enquirer.
On the following day, the Tribune published an editorial re-
joinder, to which Mr. Raymond replied on the 28th. On the
1st of September, the Tribune responded editorially ; and this
was followed on the 5th by a rejoinder from the Courier find
Enquirer. On the 7th of September, the Courier and En-
quirer announced the receipt of a long reply from Mr. Bris-
bane ; but, while disavowing any obligation to publish it,
offered to do so if the Tribune would give place to the Conner
and Enquirer's reply. On the 8th, Mr. Greelcy met this offer
with a formal proposition to open a discussion on the whole
subject involved ; the Tribune and the Courier and Enquirer
each to publish twelve articles in defence of its own position,
and each contestant to republish the articles written by his
antagonist. The Courier and Enquirer accepted the chal-
lenge ; and at the close of the State political canvass the discus-
sion was begun.

The TnTwneled off, on the 20th of November, with a state-
ment of rudiinental propositions, intended to show that justice
to the poor and wretched demands of the more fortunate
classes a radical social reform. The article, bearing the signa-
ture of '' II. G.," began with a quotation from the Bible, — " In
the beginning God created the heaven and the earth," — from
which was deduced the proposition that earth, air, water, and
sunshine, with their natural products, wrere divinely intended
and appointed for the use and sustenance of the whole human
family — not for a part only; hence, that the civili/ed society
of our day, in divesting the larger portion of mankind of the
unimpeded enjoyment of these natural rights, has assumed a
power detrimental to the public good, and contrary to divine
law. Mr. Grecley further contended that the landless have an
inherent right to their due share of land, and that all men
have the right to labor, and to the rewards of labor; but that

60 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

under existing conditions these rights are denied. " The right
to constant employment, with a just and full recompense," he
said, "cannot be guaranteed to all without a radical change in
our Social Economy." "We must devise a remedy, "he added.
His remedy was Association.

Mr. Raymond replied in the Courier and Enquirer of No-
vember 23. After reciting the points of Mr. Greeley's essay,
he met the first issue squarely, by charging the Tribune with
agrarianism. " The position that those who own no land are
wronged and robbed of what is justly theirs," said Mr. Ray-
mond, " is equivalent to a denial of the right of property in
land. . . . Inclusively, this is a denial of the right of prop-
erty in anything whatever." Raymond then assailed Greeley's
proposition that society creates property ; showing that in re-
ality society is the creature of property. "Property is the
root of the tree of which society is the trunk ; and society,
in turn, as it is the product, becomes guardian of the right of
individual property. Property has always originated every-
thing like order, civilization and refinement in the world. It
has always been the mainspring of energy, enterprise, and all
the refinements of life. Evils are of course developed in con-
nection with it; but they are accidental, and comparatively
trifling. Without it, civilization, would be unknown — the
face of the earth would be a desert." Raymond enlarged upon
this point, said a passing word of contempt about the notori-
ous Fanny Wright, whose adherents had become noisy, and
ended with a rebuke of the Tribune for espousing theories
whose tendency was to undermine, and gradually to destroy,
sound and important doctrines, of which that journal itself
had hitherto been the advocate.

Mr. Greeley's second essay appeared in the Tribune of No-
vember 26. He denied the charge of agrarianism point-blank,
and accused Mr. Raymond of misrepresenting his position.
What he had contended for was the right of all men to an op-
portunity to labor, and to a just recompense of such labor;
not a general distribution of lands, but " a limitation of the
area thereof which any man ma}' hereafter acquire and hold,
whether directly or at second-hand." He gave an indignant

AN OLD TAIXT. 61

fling at Raymond for coupling the names of Horace Greclcy and
Fanny Wright ; and then passed to a consideration of the
•wants of the laboring class, and defined the operation of such
a "Phalanx or Social Structure" as would, in his judgment, pro-
vide cheap- and good homes for the poor. In short, Greeley
set forth an outline of the system of co-operation.

Mr. Raymond's second reply (November 30) denied any
misstatement of Mr. Greeley's position on the land question.
" The charge of misstatement is so absurd," said Raymond,
"that it becomes simply ludicrous. We copied the very lan-
guage of the Tribune itself. We gave to it precisely the
meaning which common sense required. We drew from it
simply the deductions which were unavoidable." . . We
said in our first article that the Tribune would undoubt-
edly disavow any denial of the right of property in land, or in
anything else ; and so it attempts to do. But how can it d
in the face of its fundamental principle? While it persists in
urging that the landless have a claim upon the owners of land
for a recompense ; while it insists that society is bound to
guarantee to them an equivalent for the land of which they
have been deprived, how can it possibly disown the funda-
mental principle upon which this claim is founded? The two
must stand or fall together." Raymond dwelt upon this point,
and in reply to Greeley's personalities concerning Fanny
Wright, and the disciples of her school, sent this hot shot into
the Tribune: — "We think it not at all unlikely that we shall
insist, in the course of this discussion, that the Tribune is an
'exceedingly mischievous and dangerous paper; ' but it will bo
only by way of inference from the principles which it promul-
gates ; and for those principles, as well as for all just infer-
ences from them, the Tribune, and not we, must be held
responsible."

Mr. (Ireeley's third number (December 1) resumed the
labor question, repeating the argument concerning opportunity
and recompense, and again denying the charge of agrarianism.
Mr. .Greeley also complained that Mr. Raymond had
the space originally agreed upon as the limi! of the articles on
either side, and added : " If you think this fair play, go on ! "

62 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Then he began to unfold his plan of Association ; setting forth
substantially the theory of Fourier in regard to common prop-
erty, remuneration of labor, inducements to workers, and the
punishment of moral offences.

Mr. Raymond responded, December 8, within the limits of
a column. He again insisted upon the charge of agrarianism, —
and proved it by citations from Mr. Greeley's articles. He
then advanced to an inquiry into the practical organization of
Socialism, and showed that the men of capital must necessarily
become the owners of the land in the proposed " Associations ; "
and, therefore, that Communism was simply a new phase of the
relation of landlord and tenant, despite all the reasoning to the
contrary. Raymond pressed this point with great logical
force.

Mr. Greeley denied it roundly, in letter No. IV. — pub-
lished immediately after the appearance of Mr. Raymond's
reply. "Let me say, once for all," observed Mr. Greeley,
" that Association proposes to divest no man of any property
which the law says is his. Its grand aim is to effect a recon-
ciliation of the interests of capital and labor, by restoring the
natural rights of the latter without trenching on the acquired
rights or interests of the other." Then, by way of illustration,
he drew a contrast between the ordinary method of settling a
new township, and that which would be followed by the believ-
ers in Association. In the first, the early settlers would be
rudely housed and rudely served ; in the latter, all the appli-
ances of civilization, by means of combined effort, would be at
hand immediately.

Mr. Raymond admitted (December 14) the imperfection of
the existing social system ; but contended that Association would
only increase and perpetuate its worst features. Its inevitable
tendency would be to render the relation of landlord and ten-
ant universal and perpetual.

From this point the discussion broadened, until the essays
on either side became long and wearisome, embracing questions
of social life, the relations of the sexes, political economy, and
religion. After the lapse of twenty-two years, it is unprofita-
ble to recall all the details of controversy concerning a theory

AN OLD TAINT. 63

which was so soon to be rejected as impracticable and mis-
chievous ; neither would any useful purpose be served by analyz-
ing the arguments put forth by the skilful antagonists. Mr.
(ireeley was thoroughly honest, exceedingly personal, and
somewhat illogical in the conduct of his side of the controversy ;
Mr. Raymond was cool, sarcastic, earnest, sometimes sophis-
tical. The discussion fairly exhibited the characteristics of the
men ; and, from this point of view, it is alike valuable and
interesting.

The arguments for and against Socialism were compactly
summed up in the concluding papers of the series. To this
part of the discussion we give place : —

• ME. GREELEY'S CONVICTIONS.

"Let me barely restate, in order, the positions which I have
endeavored to maintain, and I will calmly await the judgment
to be pronounced upon the whole matter. I know well that
nineteen-twentieths of those whose utterances create and mould
public opinion, had prejudged the case before reading a page
with regard to it; that they had promptly decided that no
social reconstruction is necessary or desirable, since they do
not perceive that any is likely to promote the ends for which
they live and strive. Of these, very few will have read our
articles, — they felt no need of your arguments, no appetite
for mine. Yet there is a class, even in this modern ]>abel of
selfishness and envious striving, still more in our broad land,
who are earnestly seeking, inquiring for, the means whereby
error and evil may be diminished, the realm of justice and of
happiness extended. These will have generally followed us
with more or less interest throughout; their collective judg-
ment will award the palm of manly dealing and of beneficent
endeavor to one or the other. For their consideration, I reit-
erate the positions I have endeavored to maintain in this dis-
cussion, and cheerfully abide their verdict that I have sustained.
or you have overthrown, them. I have endeavored to -how.
then, —

" 1. That man has a natural, (Jod-iriven riirht to labor for his
own subsistence and the good of others, and to a needful por-

64 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

tion of the earth from which his physical sustenance is to be
drawn. If this be a natural, essential right, it cannot be justly
suspended, as to any, upon the interest or caprice of others ;
and that society in which a part of mankind are permitted or
forbidden to labor, according to the need felt or fancied by
others for their labor, is unjustly constituted, and ought to be
reformed.

" 2. That, in a true social state, the right of every individual
to such labor as he is able to perform, and to the fair and equal
recompense of his labor, will be guaranteed and provided for ;
and the thorough education of each child, physical, moral, and
intellectual, be regarded as the dictate of universal interest and
imperative duty.

" 3. That such education for all, such opportunity to labor,
such security to each of a just and fair recompense, are mani-
festly practicable only through the association of some two or
three hundred families on the basis of united interests and
efforts (after the similitude of a bank, railroad, or whale-ship,
though with far more perfect arrangements for securing to each
what is justly his) ; inhabiting a common edifice, though with
distinct and exclusive as well as common apartments, cultivat-
ing one common domain, and pursuing thereon various branches
of mechanical and manufacturing as well as agricultural indus-
try, and uniting in the support of education, in defraying the
cost of chemical and philosophical apparatus, of frequent lec-
tures, etc., etc.

" 4. That among the advantages of this organization would
be immense economies in land, food, cooking, fuel, buildings,
teams, implements, merchandise, litigation, account-keeping,
etc., etc. ; while, on the other hand, a vastly increased effi-
ciency would be given to the labor of each by concentration
of effort, and the devotion to productive industry of the great
numbers now employed in unproductive avocations, or who are
deemed too young, too unskilled, or too inefficient, to be set at
work under our present industrial mechanism.

" 5. That, thus associated and blended in interests, in daily
intercourse, in early impressions, in cares, joys, and aspira-
tions, the rich and poor would become the brethren and mutual

AN OLD TAINT. 65

helpers for which thoir Creator designed them, — that labor
would he rendered attractive by well-planned, lighted, warmed,
and ventilated work-shops, by frequent alternations from the
field to the shop, as urgency, convenience, weariness or weather
should suggest ; and that all being workers, all sharers in the
same cares and recreations, none doomed to endure existence
in a, cellar or hovel, tl\e antagonism and envious discontent now
prevalent would be banished, and general content, good will,
and happiness prevail, while famine, homelessness, unwilling
idleness, the horrors of bankruptcy, etc., would be unknown.

"These, hastily and imperfectly condensed, arc my positions,
my convictions. I believe that Christianity, social justice, in-
tellectual and moral progress, universal well-being, impera-
tively require the adoption of such a reform as is lie re roughly
sketched. I do not expect that it will be immediately effected,,
nor that the approaches to it will not be signalized by failures,
mistakes, disappointments. But the PRINCIPLE of Association
is one which has already done much for the improvement of the
condition of our race; we see it now actively making its way
into general adoption, through odd-fellowship, protective
unions, mutual fire, marine, and life insurance, and other forms
of guaranteeism. Already commodious edifices for the poor
of cities arc planned by benevolence, unsuspicious of the end
io which it points ; already the removal' of the paupers from
localities where they are a grievous burden to those where they
can substantially support themselves, is the theme of general
discussion. In all these and many like them, I seethe portents
of 'a good time coming,' not for the destitute and hop
only, but for the great mass of our fellow-men. In this faith I
labor and live : share it or scout it as you will.

" Adieu !

"II. G."

MR. KAYMOND'S POSITION.

ft We are not aware of a single position taken by the Tribune

upon this subject that we have left unnoticed. We have given

to every argument it has urged in defence of the -\-temall

the attention it seemed to merit. We began by di-cn<~ing it-

66 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

fundamental theory of natural rights, — its primary denial of
the right of property in land ; and we have followed, through-
out, the line of argument which it adopted. The Tribune
ascribed all existing evil to the false arrangements of society ;
we contended that even those false arrangements grow out of
the selfishness of the human heart. The Tribune demanded a
new social form which should abolish the cause of existing evil ;
we insisted that, as evil did not spring from social forms, so no
change of those forms could destroy it. The Tribune con-
demned the present system of isolated households and individ-
ual effort, and demanded the substitution for them of a com-
munity of interests and of life ; we sought to prove that such a
community would be impossible so long as human nature
remains unchanged. The Tribune urged Association as the
means of effecting that change in human character which alone
would render Association possible ; we proved that this con-
founded cause and effect, and that the personal reform of indi-
vidual men must precede such a social reform as the Tribune
seeks. The Tribune contended that, in Association, labor would
receive, as its reward, a fixed proportion of its product, and
that this would be greater than under the present system ; we
proved that the reward of labor is regulated by certain princi-
ples of permanent force, which Association could not change,
and that then, as now, when labor was abundant and laborers
scarce, the wages of labor would be high; and that, when
laborers increased more rapidly than the work to be done, their
reward would diminish. And so we proceeded step by stop,
meeting every claim urged by the Tribune in defence of the
system ; refuting its pretensions to exclusive philanthropy :
pointing out obstacles for which it made no adequate provision ;
and discussing fully and fairly the whole system, in all its
details, as presented in its columns. We met the Tribunr,
throughout, upon its own ground ; yet, in nearly every instance,
our objections were denounced as 'cavils; ' our arguments re-
mained untouched ; and now, in its closing article, the Tribune
repeats all its original positions, and charges us with having
failed to meet them. We are quite content to submit this point
to the judgment of our readers.

AN OLD TAINT. 67

"... We have proved, in preceding articles of this discus-
sion, that the whole SYSTEM OF ASSOCIATION is founded upon,
and grows out of, the fundamental principle known as the law
of PASSIONAL ATTRACTION. The argument by which this position
. is established remains untouched ; and we shall not therefore
repeat it. In our last article we proved that, in this system,
the law of man's nature is made the supreme rule of his conduct
and character ; that it recognizes no higher law than that of in-
clination, no authority above that of passion, and of course no
essential distinction between right and wrong, — no standard
of duty except that of impulse. Of course the idea of human
responsibility is utterly destroyed ; and all the sanctions of
moral and religious truth, as derived from the Word of God,
are abrogated and cast aside. These deductions flow inevitably
from the law of passional attraction ; and that law we have
proved to be fundamental in Association.

"... We have still to advert to one point of great practical
importance, which has hitherto been but slightly touched ; we
mean the INFLUENCE UPON SOCIETY OF THE PRINCIPLES OF
ASSOCIATION, as they are presented and urged in the columns
of the Tribune. Its advocacy of this social S3rstern is regarded
by many as wholly unaccountable, — as the result of some
strange whim, for which no reason can be found in its general
tone and teaching. This, in our judgment, is a mistaken
notion. The fundamental principles of Association — its essen-
tial doctrines, as we have set them forth in this discussion —
are far more earnestly cherished by the editor of that paper,
than any of the parly measures, or temporary expedients, \vhich
he advocates. The principles which lie at the bottom of this
new social system, in our view, shape the entire policy of the
Tribune. They dictate all its sentiments ; prompt all its com-
ments upon men and measures; pervade its most trilling notices
of the most common events ; govern its estimate of all schemes
of public concern; and create the very atmosphere in which it
has its being.

"... Here we close the discussion of Association, to which
we were challenged by the Tribune. We have not given the
system that methodical and complete examination, which can

68 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

alone do justice to its principles and pretensions. Our remarks
have been desultory and discursive, because the form of con-
troversy compelled us to follow in the path which our opponent
chose to take. Very many points of more or less interest we
are thus enforced to leave untouched. The provisions of the
system for civil government ; its ' sacred legion ' for the per-
formance of the ' filthy functions ' of society ; its asserted power
to reclaim deserts, to redeem alike the torrid and the frigid
zones from their excessive heat and cold, — these claims, like
many others which the system presents, must remain unno-
ticed. Its practical aspects and essential principles have
formed the only topic of this discussion ; and with regard to
them, we think the following leading positions have been estab-
lished by evidence and argument which the Tribune has failed
to shake : —

"I. Association ascribes all existing evil to what it terms
the 'FALSE ORGANIZATION of society,' and it seeks to cure it,
therefore, by giving to society a new and widely different or-
ganization from that which now prevails.

"11. This reorganization of society is to be universal, and
embrace all departments of social life. All social forms and
institutions, it is alleged, are radically wrong; all, therefore,
must be radically and completely changed.

" III. LABOR is the first thing to be reformed. Existing
society authorizes the e monopoly of land,' and thus excludes a
part of its members from sharing this God-given element, and
from working upon it, and enjoying the fruits of their labor,
Association proposes, therefore, to abolish private property in
land ; to make the soil the joint property of masses of men, all
of whom can work upon it and share its fruits, but none of
whom can have in it any private and exclusive ownership ; and
by this means to increase and render fixed the reward of mere
labor, without making it, in any degree, dependent upon cap-
ital. "We have proved (1.) that capitalists never can be induced
to enter into this arrangement : (2.) that the denial of the right
of private property in land involves the denial of the right to
own anything: (3.) that the very root and foundation of all
civilization and progress are thus destroyed : (4.) that such a

AN OLD TAINT. 69

community of property and labor, if it were feasible, would
beget discontent and strife, and so involve the elements of its
own destruction : (5.) that the reward of labor cannot be made
fixed, beeanse it must always, ex necessitate rei, depend upon
the fluctuating ratio of the supply to the demand : and ((>.) that
the effect of this system of owning the soil, if carried out,
would render capitalists the sole owners of all the land, and
laborers everywhere their tenants and serfs. Its only effect
would be, therefore, vastly to increase the evils which it seeks
to remedy.

" IV. The ISOLATED HOUSEHOLD is the next false institution
of the present society to be reformed. As a general thing,
each family now inhabits a separate house. Association pro-
poses that this shall be abandoned, as expensive, sellish, and
inconvenient ; and that all shall live in one common houxc, hav-
ing their cooking, washing, and all other domestic service per-
formed in common; eating, as a general rule, at a common
table, and leading in all essential respects a common life. Such
an arrangement, we have contended: (1.) would destroy that
most potent spur to human effort, the desire of creating and
enjoying an independent and separate home: (2.) that it would
bring together persons of habits, tastes, convictions, prejudices,
motives, and general characters utterly incompatible with each
other: (3.) that it would fail to bring such discordant mate-
rials into the harmony of feeling, faith, and conduct essential
to success : and (4.) that it would, so far as it should prove
successful, destroy all individuality of character, and bring all
men to a dead level of uniformity. It would be, then-fore, in
the tirst place, impossible; and, if not so, injurious to the be-t
interests of all concerned.

"V. The KDUCATION OF CHILDREN is the next thing to be
reformed. Xow, infants are 1:ik»-n care of by their pan-ni
by hired nurses : they are subjected to their absolute control;
they inherit their tastes and dispositions : then1 is no uniformity
in their education, and therefore none in their betief OF characters,
— and thus are perpetuated, from one generation to another, all
the evils of the existing social -tate. Association propo-.
commit all the infants to «-ommon nurses ; to educate young chil-

70 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

dren upon a common plan, and under the direction of an elective
council ; to release them from all constraint, leaving them to
obey none but 'superiors of their own choice; ' relieving the
parents from all care of them, and the children from all obliga-
tion to obey their parents ; and so forming their characters,
and guiding their conduct, in a way precisely opposite to that
which now prevails. This system we have shown, (1.) neg-
lects entirely to take into account the strong instincts of paren-
tal and filial affection : (2.) that it, therefore, would prove
impracticable : (3.) that it aims, avowedly, to annul the DUTY
of filial obedience : (4.) that it denies explicitly the EIGHT of
parental authority : and (5.) that it thus strikes a deadly blow
at the very heart of the PARENTAL RELATION, as its nature is
set forth, and its duties defined in the Word of God.

" VI. The relation of HUSBAND and WIFE is now a fixed and
permanent one : yet it often unites parties who have for each,
other no mutual love, and keeps asunder those whom mutual
passion impels to union. Public sentiment, legal enactments,
the pecuniary dependence of woman, the embarrassing care of
children, and all existing social usages combine to perpetuate
and enforce this unnatural and unjust constraint. Association
proposes to reorganize the marriage relation ; to remove all the
obstacles to the free sway of natural impulse ; and to commit
the intercourse of the sexes to the laws of human nature and
individual passion, freed from all the restraints and checks they
now encounter. In order to effect this, it imposes on society
the care of the children ; repeals all legal disabilities ; confers
upon women perfect liberty in person, property, and affection ;
enlightens public sentiment ; and so renders easy and unob-
structed the full and free gratification of inconstant, as well as
of constant, passions. "VTe have demonstrated, (1.) that this
is the aim and final purpose of tin's system of social reform :
(2.) that, in not regarding marriage as a permanent institution
of divine origin and sanctions, it rejects the teachings of Christ :
and (3.) that its result would be the complete destruction of the
MAUKIAGK DELATION, and the substitution for it of a systema-
tized polygamy, less regulated, less restrained, and therefore

AN OLD TAINT. 71

far worse than has ever been •witnessed in any nation or in any
age of the world.

" VII. The FAMILY, under the present social system, is an
institution narrow in its scope, selfish in its spirit, and injurious
to social and human progress. It rests upon, and is sustained
by, the isolated household, the parental relation, and the rela-
tion of husband and wife. So long as these exist, it will exist
also. But Association proposes, as we have already seen, to
reorganize, and, in effect, destroy all these relations. When
that has been accomplished, the FAMILY RELATION must, of
course, fall to the ground, and the family spirit will be absorbed
by the spirit of the Association. In all this we have insisted,
(1.) that the system seeks the destruction of an institution of
divine origin ; one that lies at the basis of all human improve-
ment, that nourishes and develops all the best affections and
sympathies of the human heart, and that docs more for the
preservation of order, of purity, and of civilization than all
human institutions put together: (2.) that its purposes are
therefore hostile to the well-being of society : and (3.) that, if
carried out, they would sweep away the best and surest safe-
guards of the public good, and break down one of the strong-
est barriers over erected against the destructive torrent of vice
and misery.

Et VIII. Under the existing system, the RESTRAINT OF JUMAX
PASSIONS is made the great end of all social institutions. Edu-
cation, law, the church, the family, all formal provisions for the
pul) lie good, enforce the duty and necessity of repressing the
passions and impulses of human nature. Association denounces
this as a false and fruitless method. The natural impulses of
man, it asserts, are good: evil results only from their n ,
sion. A true society, therefore, should provide for their per-
fect and complete development. This is accordingly proj
as the great and controlling object of the new society which the
system seeks to introduce. The impulses of every human being,
in the language of Association, point out exactly his real /tinrf inns
ami Iti* fi'ttc jioxifion in society. This law, therefore, /* f» < • »NTUOL,
in every respect, f he proposed reorganization of all vx-iftlf
Labor, education, the family, all modes of life and of work, are

72 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

to be brought under its complete command. (1.) In Libor,
men are to work, not under the guidance of necessity, but ac-
cording to their likings ; not separately, as their personal inter-
ests may dictate, but in groups and series, according to the law
of passional attraction. (2.) In education, children arc to
learn, not what they are directed, but what they like ; they are
to obey, not their parents, but only 'superiors of their own
choice ; ' and in all things, their path is to be indicated, not by
the judgment of old.er and wiser persons, but by their own
'passional attractions.' (3.) In the conjugal relation, accord-
ing to this fundamental law, those persons are to be united
whose impulses prompt a union ; if those impulses are constant,
the union may be constant also ; if they die, the union may be
dissolved ; if they change to other objects, they may still be
gratified ; and all the obstacles which public sentiment, the care
of children, and the fear of consequences now oppose to such an
arrangement will be removed ; and, in the language of Fourier
himself, the author of the system : —

" 'A wife may have at the same time a husband of whom she may have two
children : (2.) a genitor of whom she has but one child : (3.) a favorite, who
has lived with her and preserved the title; and further, simple possessors, who"
are nothing before the law. This gradation of the title establishes a great
courteousuess and great fidelity to the engagement. Men do the same to their
divers icices. This method prevents completely the hypocrisy of which mar-
riage is the source. Misses would by no means be degraded for having had
" gallants," because they had waited before they took them to the age of
eighteen. They would be married without scruple. . . . Cur ideas of the
honor and virtue of icomen are but prejudices which vary with our legislation.' " *

i *

" * It has been repeatedly asserted, by some of the advocates of Association,
that in after life Fourier changed his views upon this subject, and lUxclnimt-d
the opinions set forth in this extract, the authenticity of which is conceded.
They were challenged to produce any evidence of this assertion. The only
paragraph which has ever been cited in its support is the following, — which
we give at length, in order to preclude any charge of partial or unfair deal-
ing:—

" ' In 1807, my progress in the theory of harmony extended only to the
relations of material love, which, being the easiest to calculate, became natu-
rally the object of the first studies.

" ' It was only in 1817 that I discovered the theory of spiritual love, in its
simpler and higher degrees.'

" 'No one ought to be astonished, if in a statement written only eight years

AN OLD TAINT. 73

" (4.) All the forms, and sill tho relations of society, are to
be adapted to the wants of human nature ; to be shaped in
exact accordance with the requirements of the law of passional
attraction; so that, instead of RESTRAINT, the complete SATI--
FACTION of all the passions shall be the controlling object of
all social forms. It has been our aim, in this discussion, to
prove that these results are actually involved in the principles,
and contemplated in the practice, of the SYSTEM. It has not
been necessary to do more than this ; as the Tribune has not
seen fit to follow the inquiry into this branch of the subject.

"IX. In all its principles and all its arrangements, the SYS-
TEM of Association recognizes no higher rule of human conduct,
no other standard'of right and wrong, than that of the LAWS OF
HUMAN NATURE. These laws, in its whole reorganization of
society, are final and imperative. In this respect, we contend,
it is essentially, and at bottom, a system of INFIDELITY, inas-
much as it discards the vital and absolute distinction between
right and wrong ; recognizes no such thing as conscience ; in-
volves a denial of God as a moral being, — the governor of the
universe; and is directly hostile, in its essence, to the m<»t
vital doctrines of the Christian faith.

" That this is the true outline and character of the >v> i I.M

after the first discovery, I considered love only in its material relations, the
theory of which was still exceedingly incomplete.

"'A new science can attain its free development only by decrees, ami
for a long time is subjected to the influence of the tendencies prevailing
around it. Situated as I was in the midst of civil.i/ers. who are all sensual-
ists, or nearly so, it was almost inevitable that in my first studies of love, us
it will exist in the combined order, I should stop at the mate-rial part of the
subject, which alone opens a vast field for scientific calculations.
wards, I came to the spiritual part of the theory, which is much more diffi-
cult to unfold ; I could not carry on both these branches together, and was
obliged in 1807 to treat the relations of material love into the system of t-hich
I had at (hut linn' <ni ii>*i<jht.'

"It will be seen here, that Fourier, instead otdiacltiiiiiiiii/lris former view-.
and asserting that he had chniKjnl them, simply remarks that his scheme was
then ' i)ic«ni)i!it<-,' and explicitly declares that in isor he had - an insight ' into
the scientific principles of the ' system of material love.' Nor have the Amer-
ican Associations ever repudiated, so far as we are aware, or disavowi •
opinions. So far as they go. they are held to be just : the only complaint Ss
that of Fourier, that the system is incomplete." .

74 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

or ASSOCIATION, first promulgated by Fourier, and now urged
upon the adoption of the American people by the Tribune, we
claim to have proved in the foregoing articles of this discussion.
We do not assert, nor do we believe, that the editor of the
Tribune aims at these results. On the contrary, if he believed
that they were involved in the system, we have no doubt he
would promptly discard it. But in our judgment, they flow
necessarily from the fundamental principle of the system; and
evciy step taken towards its supremacy, is a step towards their
establishment. The Tribune, whether consciously or not,
advocates THE SYSTEM in which they are involved ; and it is
justly, therefore, held responsible for its principles and their
inevitable results. The system of Association, if fully carried
out, would eifect the most complete overthrow of existing insti-
tutions the world has ever seen. A universal deluge would
not more thoroughly change the face of the earth, than would
this social revolution change the face of human society. Law,
labor, education, social forms, religion, domestic life, everything
in the world as it now exists, the best institutions as well as
the worst, would be swept into a common vortex, and all society
would be thrown back into a worse than primeval chaos.
Churches, courts of law, halls of legislation, the homes of men,
all private rights, and all the forms of social life, would be ban-
ished from the earth, and the whole work of social creation
must be performed anew. So momentous a change as this
the world has never seen, — one so radical, so sweeping in its
nature, so overwhelming in its results. And the principles
which, if fully carried out, would involve these tremendous
consequences, when partially carried out, produce, of course,
corresponding injury. They are subtle, plausible, and to many
minds attractive ; and, in our judgment, by adroitly and zeal-
ously pressing them upon public favor, the Tribune is weaken-
ing the foundations and pillars of the social fabric ; is silently
poisoning the public mind with false notions of natural rights
and of personal obligation ; and is sowing broadcast the seeds
of discontent and hate, of which future generations will reap
the fruits, if not in the bloody field of carnage and terror, in

AN OLD TAINT. 75

the anarchy and social disorder which arc equally fatal to all
human advancement and all social good.

" Throughout this discussion tin: Triliim*- has charged us with
being hostile to all reform, and especially to every attempt to
meliorate the hard lot of the degraded poor.- The charge i< a-
unfounded as it is ungenerous. We labor willingly and xeal-
ously, as our columns will testify, within our sphere, in aid of
everything which seems to us TRUE REFORM, — founded upon
just principles, seeking worthy ends by worthy means, and
promising actual and good results. We regard it as our duty
to do all in our power to benefit our fellow-men j but we are
not of those who ' feel personally responsible for the turning of
the earth upon its axis,' nor do we deem it our special ' mission *
to reorganize society. We believe much good may bo done by
improving the circumstances which surround the vicious and
the wretched; but the essential evil lies behind that, and must
be reached by other means. We should not differ from the
Tribune as to the Christian duty of the rich towards the poor ;
but we cannot denounce them as the tyrants and robbers of
those who have been less industrious and less fortunate. We
would gladly see society free from suffering, and all its mem-
bers virtuous and happy ; but we believe social equality to be
as undesirable, as it is impossible, — holding, rather, with Plato
and Aristotle, that a true society requires a union of unequal
interests, mutually sustaining and aiding each other, and not
an aggregation of identical elements, which could give nothing
like coherence or strength to the fabric. We believe in human
improvement, but not in a progress which will have nothing
Ji.i-'.-il ; which consists in leaving behind it everything like es-
tablished principles, and which measures its rate by the extent
of its departure from all the pillars which wi>dom and experi-
ence have erected. Wo cannot regard with favor any princi-
ple or any scheme, no matter how plausible its preton.-ions,
which involves the destruction of the FAMILY RKLATIOX, or sub-
jects the MARRIAGE union to the caprice of individual passion :
for not only the dictates of wisdom and experience, but the
explicit injunctions of God himself, are thus rejected and disa-
vowed. We would not venture upon the tremendous oxperi-

76 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

merit of taking off from human passions all the restraints which
society, law, and religion have hitherto imposed, however plau-
sible the plea that the law of passional attraction will again
bring them into more complete harmony, and with ' pacific and
constructive' power, build up, as by enchantment, a new and
more perfect social form. As soon would we unchain and turn
loose upon unprotected women and children a thousand un-
tamed tigers, or lead mankind, in search of its lost paradise,
into the very heart of hell, — in the hope that some Orphean
lute might charm wild beasts from their nature, and convert
even the furies of the infernal world into angels and ministers
of "race. The walls of Thebes mavhave risen to the sound of

o •/

Amphion's harp ; but he himself was a son of the Highest, and
received his lyre and acquired his skill in such creative melody,
from the direct teachings of its Sovereign God. So, in these
latter days, must the principles of all true REFORM come down
from heaven. We have no faith in any system that does not
aim at the extirpation of MORAL EVIL from the heart of man ;
or that sets aside, in this endeavor, the teachings of Revelation ;
the eternal principles of spiritual truth therein proclaimed ; and
the method of redemption therein set forth. The CHRISTIAN
RELIGION, in its spiritual, life-giving, heart-redeeming priuci
pies, is the only power that can reform society ; and it can
accomplish this work only by first reforming the individuals of
whom society is composed. Without GOD, and the plan of
redemption which he has revealed, the world is also without
HOPE."

RAYMOND AT TWENTY-EIGHT. 77

CHAPTEE VIII.

RAYMOND AT TWENTY-EIGHT.

HIS FILIAL DEVOTION — BURNING OP THE HOMESTEAD IN LIMA — MR. RAYMOND'S
LETTERS TO HIS PARENTS AND HIS BROTHER SAMUEL — HIS VISIT TO LIMA
— HIS SOLICITUDE FOR HIS FATHER AND MOTHER — A TOUCHING TRIBUTE.

ON the last day of September, 1848, while Mr. Raymond
was diligently performing the onerous duties which fell to his
lot in the office of the Courier and Enquirer, the house which
had been the shelter of his early years was destroyed by fire ,
and his father and mother were suddenly thrown upon the
world without a home, and with but small means of support.
By this time, fortune had smiled graciously upon the son ; and
the disaster to the old homestead gave him the opportunity of
repaying a part of the debt of gratitude he owed to loving and
self-denying parents.

A telegraphic despatch announced to Mr. Raymond the fact
of the destruction of the homestead, but gave no particulars.
He immediately sent to his father the following letter of condo-
lence, written very hastily in the pressure of business : —

" NEW YORK, Saturday p. M.
[Sept. 30, 1848.]

" MY DEAR FATHER : — I have just heard by telegraph from Samuel of yonr
misfortune. So the old house has gone! — Well, I little thought when we
were all there so snugly this summer that it would be for the last time, from
such a cause. I trust and suppose that it was insured, so that the actual
loss will be but little, If anything. And if this is so, although it will put you
to a great deal of inconvenience, still it will not be without its advantages,
— as you can now build one more to your liking.

" I suppose I could be of no service even if I was there, so that I regret less
than I should do otherwise the impossibility of my going. If you want any
assistance that I can give, yon have only to let me know what it is. I hope
mother win not let il trouble her much. It's bad, to be sure — but it can't

78 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

be helped. I presume the old house made a fine blaze. I shall expect to
hear very soon, from some of you, all the particulars. . . .

" Your affectionate son,

" HENRY."

Two days later, he wrote a longer letter, addressed to his
"dear parents," in which he said many cheery words of com-
fort, and gave them a pressing invitation to make their home
at his house in Xew York ; at the same time offering pecuniary
assistance to enable them to retrieve the misfortune which had
overtaken them. This letter, filled with expressions of tender
filial devotion, is here given entire : —

" NEW YORK, Oct. 2, 1848.

" MY DEAR PARENTS : — I wrote a very short and hasty letter on Saturday,
as soon as I heard of your misfortune. I hope to hear to-day or to-morrow
more particulars of the matter, as we are still entirely in the dark as to the
amount of loss, etc., etc. We have speculated about it till we are tired, —
wondering how the fire caught, whether this thing was saved, or that one
burned, etc., etc. But it's all useless, and -we must wait patiently until we
hear something direct and explicit. I hope you are not much dejected or
discouraged about it, — and indeed I am not at all afraid that it has so far
depressed your spirits as to prevent your considering what's to be done. I'm
most anxious to know whether it was insured, and whether }TOU saved any
considerable portion of the furniture, your papers, etc., etc. If. when you
get this, you shall not already have fully written upon all these points, I hope
you will do so without delay.

" And now let's see what's to be done. I suppose of course you will not
think of building again this fall. Why not, then, as soon as you put things
straight, pick up the pieces, etc., etc., and come down here and stay with us?
At all events, we have made up our minds that you must come, — to stay a
while at any rate. We have plenty of room, and will do everything we can
to make it pleasant.

" What do you intend to do about rebuilding? Why would it not be well
to buy the east part of Hopkins' farm, and live in his house, — not building
again upon the old spot? I think it very likely this would be the cheapest
way, and would be best for the farm in the long run. It wouldn't seem so
much like home for a few years ; but it would after a while, and then it would
make a splendid farm. If you conclude to build again, I suppose it would
not be worth while to do more than clear away the rubbish and get material
ready before spring. You can undoubtedly build a much more convenient
and in every way a better house than the old one was, and that probably at
no very great expense.

'• It makes me sad to think that the old homestead has gone; but it can't
be helped, — so there's no use in feeling bad about it. I wish I could go out
there, to see how things stand, and to help you, if I could be of any service.
But it is impossible for me to leave just now. Ifyou want anything of me,

RAYMOND AT TWENTY-EIGHT. 79

let me know it, I can let you have some money, if you have need of it. You
may rely upon me for everything you want that it is in my power to give or
do. I hope to see you here before long, so that we may talk the whole thing
over. Of course it will cause you a great deal of trouble and confusion, but
even that will prevent you from getting dull and having nothing to engage
your attention; and beyond that I hope it will cause you no serious inconven-
ience. Come down and stay with us, and we'll try and make you glad the
old house was burned. . . . Little Henry is well, — though the mosquitoes
have almost eaten him up.

" Hoping to hear from you very soon, and writing myself in great haste, I
am as ever

" Your affectionate son,

" HENRY."

Not content with words, Mr. Raymond, a week later, pro-
ceeded to deeds. Difficult as it was for him to leave the
responsible place he occupied, even for a few days, he went to
Lima, to supervise the task of gathering up the shattered
household gods, and to assume the responsibilities which
rightly belonged to him as the eldest son of the family. Arriv-
ing in Lima on Sunday, he occupied that day and Monday in
making temporary arrangements for the comfort of his parents,
and in rescuing, from the wreck of the old homestead,* all
that \v as worth preserving; and on Monday afternoon was on
his way back to Xew York, having first despatched from Lima
the following letter to his brother Samuel : —

" LIMA, Monday r. M.
[October 9, 1848.]

"Mv DEAR BROTHER: — I have been a good deal disappointed in not seeing
you here, though, come to think it over, I suppose it would have been difficult
for you to get away. I sent yon word by telegraph on Friday afternoon that
I should be here on Sunday morning. We were detained first by a fog on
the river, and then by running off the track, so that I did not get to Canan-
daigua until nine o'clock Sunday morning; and it was after twelve when I
got Immc, though the 'home 'I found then was very different from the old
one I used to come to. The folks had all gone to church, and were astounded
enough \vheii they found me on their return. It was with a good deal of
dilHculty that I got. away from New York even for a few days, but I thought
our folks would be glad to see me, even if it were but for a little while. I go
back to-night, — and shall start in an hour or two, — father going to Oanan-

* The Raymond farm was subsequently sold, and is now in the occupation
of Mr. Longyour. The present house occupies the site of the one in which
Henry ,T. Kayiiioud was born; and the locust-grove shown in the illustration
is the same that existed fifty years ago.

80 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

daigua with me. I thought they would probably be a good deal discoui-aged
by their misfortunes, and that I might perhaps help them some. I'm glad to
find them less disheartened than I feared they would be.
, . . . " How desolate the old place looks ! It seems scarcely possible that
the blackened ruin we see now can be all that is left of our old and happy
home; and indeed it is not; for the memory of the old place, and of the
many happy hours we have spent there, — of the kind care of parents that
has made it so blessed a place for us, — still lives, and fire cannot destroy it.
I cannot conceive how the fire could have taken ; it seems perfectly unac-
countable. How fortunate it was that James came home that night ! And
how admirably everything seems to have been managed, after the fire was
discovered! If the house \\as to burn, it could scarcely have burned under
better auspices. Most of the most valuable things seem to have been saved ;
and the kindness of friends has in good part made up for the rest. I have
been talking matters over with father, and told him I wanted him to decide
on doing just what would suit him and mother best, and not be deterred by
any consideration of expense, for I would pay fill deficiencies. He has about
concluded to use his insurance money to pay off all his debts the first tiling,
— except the State loan, — and then take the rest to build a house in the
spring ; and whatever is lacking I will supply. This will give him a snug
house, his farm, and all clear of debt; and he can snap his fingers at all the
woi'ld. Mother will come to New York, by and by, and stay I hope some
time. Father will probably come with her, though he may not be able to
stay till she returns. On the whole, I think they have a prospect of having
things comfortable again, though they cannot have a house of their own this
winter. It would not be easy to build properly this fall.

"But it is time for me to be getting ready to be off. I have been well
repaid for coming, by the feeling that my visit has made them happier. And
nothing gives me more pleasure than the thought that I can now be of some
service to them, in return for the inestimable services they have rendered
me. I hope to hear from you soon. Good-by.

" Your affectionate brother,

" HENRY."

Such glimpses of the inner lives of men are useful and inter-
esting. To casual observers, Mr. Raymond appeared impas-
sive, perhaps selfish. But those who knew him best, and
especially the parents and brothers who had known him long-
est, knew how deep and warm were his natural feelings of
affection , and how generous his hand. The closing passage of
the last letter quoted above is a well-deserved tribute to his
parents ; and the sentiment expressed throughout is noble,
tender, and touching.

TIAYMOND'S ENTRANCE INTO POLITICAL LIFE. 81

CHAPTER IX.

RAYMOND'S ENTRANCE INTO POLITICAL LIFE.

ELECTION TO THE NEW YORK LEGISLATURE IN 1849 — A GOOD BEGINNING

RETURN TO THE COURIER AND ENQUIRER — RE-ELECTION TO THE LEGIS-
LATURE IN 1850 REMARKS ON ASSUMING THE SPEAKERSHIP OF THE AS-
SEMBLY SUDDEN END OF THE SESSION AN INCIDENT IN RAYMOND'S LIFE

QUARREL BETW KEN WEBB AND RAYMOND DEPARTURE OF RAYMOND FOR

EUROPE — HIS FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF THE OLD WORLD — LETTER FROM
LONDON.

THE political life of Henry J. Raymond began in 1849. In
the autumn of that year, as the candidate of the Whig party,
he was elected to the State Legislature, as the representative
in the Assembly of the Ninth Ward district of the city of Xew
York ; obtaining a large majority over his Democratic compet-
itor, Mr. Potter. As a parliamentarian, and a political lead-
er, Mr. Raymond immediately took a commanding position.
His ability as a debater, his thorough knowledge of the rules
of .legislative action, and his sympathy with the Free Soil
movement of the day, at once elevated him to a prominent
place in the ranks of the opponents of slavery extension. In
the general business of the session he was also active and
efficient. Having been appointed Chairman of the Committee
on the petition for the improvement of Rackett River, he made
an elaborate report upon the history and the undeveloped ca-
pacities of that comparatively unknown part of the State,
which brought him into notice as a careful investigator in a.
new field of research.

This was Mr. Raymond's first experience in the political
arena. He intended it should be his last ; for, on returning,
at the close of the session, to his duties in the office of the
Courier and Enquirer, he again became engrossed in journal-
ism, and long resisted the efforts made by his constituents and
c

82 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

friends, to induce him to continue in public life. Moreover,
the whole responsibility of conducting the Courier and En-
quirer had fallen upon him, on the departure of General AYebb
for Europe ; and the gradual accumulation of his means had
enabled him to purchase a share in that journal. Prudent re-
gard for his own welfare, therefore, required absolute devotion
to the demands of his profession. It was only when the
AYhigs beset him with solicitations, that he yielded his own de-
sires to those of his party, and again consented to become a
candidate for the Assembly. For the second time he was tri-
umphantly elected (November, 1850) , and at the opening of
the session in Januaiy, 1851, he Avas chosen Speaker. His
Whig competitor for that position was Mr. J. B. Yarn um of
New York. The Democratic candidate was Mr. X. S. Elder-
kin ; but in that Legislature the Democrats were in the mi-
nority.

Messrs. Yarnum and Elderkin conducted Mr. Raymond to the
Speaker's chair, and he opened the session with a wise little
speech, in which he gave good counsel in pithy words, thus : —

"GENTLEMEN OF THE ASSEMBLY: — I tender you my thanks for the honor
you have been pleased to confer on me. I shall endeavor to discharge the
duties, and to meet the responsibilities which that honor brings with it, by a
careful attention to the progress of public business, and under a due sense of
the importance of the trust which you have devolved upon me.

"You will soon adopt rules for your guidance and government in the delib-
erations of the present session. I shall seek to give such vigorous, practical
effect to such rules as shall best attain the design they are intended to secure.
I shall often need, gentlemen, and I do not doubt I shall always have, your
most charitable indulgence in this endeavor.

"Nothing, permit me to remind you, can more effectually promote the ea-y
and beneficial discharge of public duty than a pervading sense of the magni-
tude of the interests committed to your care. Let us bear always in mind
that we are making laws for the greatest, the richest, the most powerful, of
the American States; that the topics which will demand our attention are
those which touch most nearly the dearest interests of those millions of peo-
ple; and that in regard to our sister States, and the Federal Union, we have
rights, relations, and duties, which demand our c-are; ami that our action
here may shape the character, guide the growth, and control the destin
this great State long after we shall have ceased to take any part in its affairs.
Under such a sense of the greatness ami importance of our task, and with
proper dependence upon the wisdom that corneth from above, let us address
ourselves to the duties that lie before vs."

RAYMOND'S ENTRANCE INTO POLITICAL LIFE. 83

Mr. Raymond filled the place of Speaker with much honor to

himself and with satisfaction to both parties. Ili.s selection of
committees — always u delicate and difficult task — was accom-
plished without offence. His thorough knowledge of parlia-
mentary rules made his decisions prompt and accurate. His
self-possession was unconquerable; his manners urbane.; his
treatment of the minority just and considerate.

In the course of the winter he frequently left the chair to
take part in the debates. The session was stormy. The elec-
tion of a United States Senator in place of Daniel S. Dickin-
son— the question of Slavery — the Canal Policy of the State
— the- Common School System, were the topics which excited
bitter party feeling, and gave rise to acrimonious discussions.
Mr. Raymond was committed to the policy of enlarging the
canals ; he was an ardent advocate of free schools ; he advi-ed
the adoption of the resolutions, which were finally passed by
the Legislature, in regard to the Compromise measures : and he
produced a marked impression by a written decision in refer-
ence to the Sodus Bay question.

The session came to an untimely end, through the conduct
of a refractory Senate. Thirteen members of that body,
opposed to the canal enlargement, resigned their scats in order
to prevent the passage of the measure, and the session was
terminated by the lack of a quorum.* The Appropriation and
Supply bills had not yet been passed, and an extra session of
the Legislature became an imperative necessity.

The history of these disturbing events, and the reasons for
calling an extra session, were set forth in an " Address to the
People of the State," which was drawn up by Mr. Raymond.

at the request of the Whig members, and published iu their

* The Assembly had passed an act known as the " Nine Million hill," author-
izing a State loan of nine million dollars, for the enlargement of the canals.
The Constitutionality of the measure was doubted : hut Daniel Webster and
Kut'iis Ornate both gave opinions in its favor, and Mr. Kaymond and his
friends carried it through the Assembly. The Democratic senators, finding
that it was sure to pass the Senate, resigned their scats, so that a quorum
could not he obtained. A special election was called by (Jovernor Hunt, and
a Whig preponderance was obtained. The bill was p.i-^ed. and afterward
declared unconstitutional by the Court of Appeals by a party vote.

84 HENRY J. RAYMOND AXD THE NEW YORK PRESS.

name. The whole body was then dissolved, and the members
returned to their homes. The extra session had been called for
the following June ; but before that time arrived, Mr. Ray-
mond was on his way to Europe, for the benefit of his health.

A comical incident, which occurred in the course of this ses-
sion of the Legislature, has hitherto been known only to a few
of Mr. Raymond's friends. It furnished a good illustration of
the character of the Albany lol^y, and of the peculiarities of
some of the lower class of Democratic politicians, who found
their way to the Capitol ; and,, it affected Mr. Raymond in a
manner more ludicrous than agreeable. An eye-witness of the
scene, — Mr. Alden J. Spooner, of Brooklyn, — who was for-
tunately able to rescue Mr. Raymond from an unpleasant pre-
dicament, has kindly acceded to a request by the writer of
these pages, in sending him the racy letter which is here sub-
joined : —

BROOKLYN, November, 1869.

In the winter of 1851, when, after a great struggle, the Whig party had suc-
ceeded in electing a Senator, that peculiar baud which always hovers around
the Legislature, ready to join in any triumph which offers a chance for a high
carouse, were approaching Congress Hall, after a circuit of all the driukiug-
places in Albany. As fate would have it, in their boisterous march up State
Street, they encountered and surrounded Mr. Raymond, who then filled the
place of Speaker of the House. He was quite out of health, but had been
delivering an address before the Normal School.

Him they took in their midst, and hurried into Congress Hall, in spite of
his protestations; and, having fixed him in a corner, proceeded to compel
him to libations of wine, which, under the circumstances, seemed neither to
admit of limit nor respite. Bottle after bottle was called for, and glass after
glass was pushed up to the Speaker, who was compelled to drink " super-
naculum," under the fearful penalties of refusal which gleamed from the
fiery eyes around him.

The Speaker did his best, but that was nothing. He endeavored to remon-
strate with his persecutors, on the score of his ill health; but this only
added fuel to their ferocity. They insisted that the wine would do him good,
and coiuimu'd to ply him ad nauseam.

Happening to be at Congress Hall, in an upper room, and hearing the
shouts of laughter, I imprudently proceeded to the scene of merriment, all
unconscious of its features or character. The Speaker, with those drinking
daggers constantly placed at his throat, was the perfect image of despair.
His persecutors were inexorable, and he could only gain occasional delay by
a little by-play, or some attempted joke ; but it ended in his being compelled
to drink it down, with the sharpest inspection to see that not a single drop
was lost.

RAYMOND'S ENTRANCE INTO POLITICAL LIFE. 85

As I put my unlucky head within the room, my hat was forthwith snatched
away. It was tossed about from one to another, till ultimately some per-
son gave it a violent kick, sending it through the door into the reading-room,
where some attendant minister upon these infernal orgies seized it, and
placed it upon the glowing anthracite (ire, where it was at once consumed.

"Who is that fellow? " cried a voice.

" That," replied another, " is Senator Schoonmaker," — whom perhaps I re-
sembled to the extent of the pair of gold spectacles which bridged my nose.

"No!" said the Hon. Mike Walsh, by whom I was very slightly known:
" he is a fellow who has a bill to pass ; but by G — d it shall not pass! "

This diversion was lucky for Mr. Raymond, who made the best of it by turn-
ing all the attention upon me, and being a fresh comer in the drinking game,
I had largely the advantage.

I met the banter of the Hon. Mike, by admitting that I had a little bill of
my own, and insisting that it would pass, and I. could prove it.

"I'll bet it won't !" said Mike; and bets were made, — to what amount I
will not say.

I immediately handed over a bank bill to " the Commodore," who kept the
bar, for wine for the company, declaring it was the only bill I had to pass,
asking him loudly if it would not pass, and receiving his loud affirmative
response.

The Hon. Mike, with considerable objurgation, admitted that he was
"sold;" and forthwith the attention of the whole company was concen-
trated upon me.

The Speaker took advantage of the opportunity, and, crouching behind
us, made good his retreat.

It was then made manifest by certain of the rollicking crowd, that a new
party had been instituted, denominated the "hat-burning party." wherein
the burning of a hat was the token of membership. Of this I was already a •
member. In the course of the evening, as numerous others came in, they
were added to the new-born party, through a like burnt-otferhig, till a .-tart
was made with highly respect able numbers.

So long as the fun was fast and furious, the Speaker was forgotten. He
had been rapidly admonished not to go to his own room, but to that then oc-
cupied by the Hon. Willis Hall, Elijah Ward, and a large party of friends.
To this he proceeded, and the door was barricaded.

The precaution was timely. A cry was raised : "Where is the Speaker?"
and the wolves became aware that he had eluded them. Forthwith a rush
was made to his bedroom, and, in common parlance, it was gutted. A rapid
search was then made for him in other rooms. Through all the corridors
the uproar went on. and reached at la>t the chamber when he was ensconced;
but, without, opening it, the pack was driven oil' by diplomatic lies. At
length, worn down by its orgies, and persuaded by the remonstrances of the
Commodore ami other friends to leave the house, the pack passed again into
the streets, and left the Speaker to a troubled and apprehensive sleep.

It is not probable that, in all his experience, he ever passed throm:Ii a crisis
more dangerous than this; when, from every pore of his skin, and in the pal-
lor of his face, he was evidently saying, with Stcphano, " I would fain die a
dry death ! "

86 HENRY J. RAYMOND AXD THE NEW YORK PRESS.

"\Vhile General Webb remained abroad, Mr. Raymond had
infused life into the Courier and Enquirer, making it an
attractive and trustworthy sheet, and devoting to its columns a
large share of his time, even when most actively engaged in
the excitements of a political canvass and in official duties at
Albany. But the stand he took in reference to the Slavery
question — particularly in its connection with the choice of a
new United States Senator from this State — failed to meet the
approval of his superior. General Webb had a strong de-
sire to occupy the seat then held in the Senate by Mr. Dick-
inson ; the Whigs declined, with many thanks, to accept him as
a candidate. Then Webb appealed to Raymond, but Ray-
mond flatly refused to use his political influence in behalf of
one whom his party had peremptorily rejected. General Webb
was politely bowed out. • Personal difficulties ensued between
Raymond and Webb ; and when the former, broken in health
by excitement and overwork, announced his intention of going
to Europe, he was warned that his departure would be con-
sidered by Webb as a formal withdrawal from the paper.*

This was in the spring of 1851. New events were about to
occur. A fresh field was opening for the display of Mr. Ray-
mond's ability, energy and ambition. His days with General
Webb were already numbered ; his long struggle for a place in
the world had been crowned with success ; thenceforth he was
to occupy an independent, influential and honorable position.

More than two-thirds of the span of life allotted to him had
passed, before Mr. Raymond was able to break away from the
routine of daily duty and labor, for a brief run through the
Old World. His temporary release from care gave him the
most intense enjoyment ; and although his sojourn abroad was
necessarily limited, he derived from it the measure of health
and the enlargement of observation and experience which sub-
sequently contributed to the success of the Times. A private

*It is pleasant to know that these differences became healed before the
death of Mr. Raymond. After several brisk wars of words, at different peri-
ods, friendly relations were restored. Yet no account of Mr. Raymond's life
would be complete without an accurate record of his conflicts as well as his
friendships.

RAYMOND'S I:MI:\N< K INTO POLITICAL LIFE. 87

letter, written upon his arrival in London, in June, 1851, i_rivr-
u> a L'Tmip-e of the impre»ions conveyed to his mind by the
scenes which were novel to him, and also conveys tin- earliest
information of the impending change in his business relations.
The subjoined copy of this interesting letter is furnished by his
brother, Mr. Samuel 1J. Kayiiiond.*

" LONDON, June, 1851.

" MY DEAR BROTHER: — I suppose you will have heard of my departure
for the Old World, and probably also from father of my safe arrival. We had
a long voyage, so that, although I have been away from home since the 8th
of May, I have only been in England a fortnight. I spent a week on the way
from Liverpool to London, visiting the most interesting places on the way.
I went to the famous Tubular Bridge over the Menai Straits, — the largest
bridge in the world. — and visited the Duke of Devonshire's magnificent coun-
try-seatat Chatsworth. He has a house- as large as the Seminary in Lima, in the
midst of a park containing two thousand acres, and presenting the most beau-
tiful variety of surface you ever saw. The Duke is well off, having a yearly
income from his estates of one million live hundred thousand dollars.

" Here in London I have visiti d all the principal places; but any descrip-
tion of them which I could give in a letter would amount to little. I went up
to the Crystal Palace this morning. It is an immense all'air, — one of which
descriptions can give no idea' The building itself is enormous, and the arti-
cles exhibited surpass, in elegance and splendor, anything I ever dreamed of.
I like my visit here tolerably well, though it is not always pleasant to think
that I am three thousand miles from home, in this vast city, and with scarcely
an acquaintance in it. I have fallen in with three or four Americans, and
have travelled with them. My health is better than it was last winter, but I
do not gain strength as rapidly as I hoped. I presume I shall never be as
celebrated as Samson \\a> for .strength! ... I have nearly finished my
visit here, JUid intend to leave for Paris early next week. How long I shall
stay I am not yet determined, but I hope to be at home early in August, and
shall then try to make a short visit at least te Lima and Rochester.

•• You will probably have seen that I am no longer in the Courier and En-
quirer. Two gentlemen in Albany propose to start a new paper in New
York early in September, and I shall probably edit it.f

" This is the mail day for to-morrow's steamer, and I have had just time to
write this, — intending not to give yon any description of my travels, but
simply to let you know where and how I am. . . .

'' Your affectionate brother,

"IlK.NKY."

*To whom the writer is indebted for many courtesies and much assistance,
vially for free access to family records tuul correspondence, which ap-
pear in print for the llrsttime in these p.,

fThis passage conveyed the lirst hint of the intended establishment of the
The circiiiiisiances which led to the birth of that paper are set forth
in the ensuing chapter.

88 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER X.

FOUNDATION OF THE NEW YORK TIMES.

ORIGIN OF THE TIMES THURLOW WEED'S OFFER OF THE ALBANY EVENING

JOURNAL TO RAYMOND AND JONES FAILURE OF A NEGOTIATION PROJECT

OF A NEW WHIG PAPER IN NEW YORK THE WINTER OF 1850-51 A WALK

UPON THE ICE ON THE HUDSON RIVER A BANKING LAW WHICH PRODUCED

A NEWSPAPER GEORGE JONES, E. B. WESLEY, AND HENRY J. RAYMOND

THE TIMES' COPARTNERSHIP EIGHT STOCKHOLDERS — RAYMOND'S SHARES

PRESENTED TO HIM THE TIMES ANNOUNCED COMMOTION AMONG NEW

YORK NEWSPAPERS — RAYMOND'S VISIT TO EUROPE HIS RETURN TO NEW

YORK THE PROSPECTUS OF THE TIMES — A BUILDING SELECTED — HOW

THE FIRST NUMBER OF THE PAPER WAS MADE UP — MR. RAYMOND'S SALUTA-
TORY ADDRESS — "ONLY SIXPENCE A WEEK" — THE MONEY SUNK IN THE

FIRST YEAR — MR. RAYMOND'S STATEMENT OF RESULTS.

AN interesting history is connected with the origin of the
New York Times, — a history hitherto unwritten, but in many
particulars interesting and significant.

A peculiar combination of political events in the year 1848
led Mr. Thurlow Weed to contemplate a final retirement from
the Albany Evening Journal, which paper he had elevated to
the rank of a controlling power in the State of -?\ew York.
The Journal was offered to Henry J. Raymond, who was then
engaged upon the Courier and Enquirer in Xe\v York, and
who had not yet begun his political career. Raymond was
but twenty-eight years old ; Weed was already a veteran in
politics and journalism, and had established his reputation,
and built up a prosperous business. But Weed had enemies
who began to scheme against him. He was willing to rest
upon his laurels, and give place to younger men ; and his first
choice was Mr. Raymond. The offer to transfer the proprie-
torship of the Journal was formally made to Raymond, in
IMS, through Mr. George Jones, a banker in Albany, who
afterwards became the partner of Mr. Raymond in the Times,

ORIGIN (
JOCR>
OF A
UPON
A NEA
THE "
PRESE
YORK
YORK
THE 1
TORY
FIRST

New }
purlieu
A p(
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and l»
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ai'tenv

FOUNDATION OF THE NEW YORK TIMES. 89

and is now the chief proprietor of that p:ipcr. Mr. Weed
revealed his purpose to Mr. Jones without reserve; declar- d
his determination to retire from editorial life, and expressed an
earnest desire that Raymond and Jones should assume the ei.n-
trol of the Evening Journal. A letter from Mr. Jones appri-ed
Mr. Raymond of this proposition; and the latter immediately
went to Albany to consult with Jones and Weed. The nego-
tiation fell through, in consequence of the refusal of one of
Mr. Weed's partners (William White) to sell his own inter-
est in the paper. Another partner, Andrew White, was will-
ing to sell ; but his own desire and that of Mr. Weed were
alike unavailing. William White remained inexorable, and
after long parley, the Journal was left as before, and Raymond
returned to New York to resume his duties in the office of the
Courier and Enquirer.

But this was not to be the end. The project of establishing
a new Whig paper in New York was soon broached in a cor-
respondence between Jones and Raymond, and out of innu-
merable letters on this subject gradually grew the plan of
start ing the Times. In 1849, the year after the fruitless ne-
gotiation at; Albany, Raymond took his scat in the Legislature
t'orthe first time, and the inchoate newspaper plan became the
topic of frequent conversations with his future partner. Still
another year passed, but no definite result was reached. At
the beginning of 1850, however, Raymond had again been
elected to the State Assembly, and the choice for the Speaker-
ship had fallen upon him. Events were at last hurrying to a
conclusion ; and a walk upon the ice of the Hudson River was
destined to be the turning-point of Raymond's career.

The winter of 1850-51 was severe. The Hudson was com-
pletely fro/en over at Albany, and the only method of I
to the railroad station, on the opposite shore, was b\- the natural
briilire of ice. Mr. Raymond's father was on his way to Al-
bany, on one of the sharpest days of the winter, and the young
Speaker, going to meet the incoming train at Greenbiish,
stopped at Jones' banking-house to solicit the favor of his
company. They set out together to cross the river: and when
half way over, Mr. Jones casually observed that he had heard

90 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

" the Tribune had made a profit of sixty thousand dollars the
past year. " This remark at once revived the topic which had
already been the burden of long correspondence between the
two friends ; and the question of newspaper enterprises, and
risks, and rewards, was again discussed with animation. The
information concerning the Tribune seems to have been regard-
ed with a feeling akin to awe, — for a clear profit of sixty
thousand dollars for a single newspaper in one year was con-
sidered an immense success nineteen years ago. In these later
days it is not an occurrence so unusual that the announce
ment takes one's breath away.

After further conversation, Mr. Raymond expressed his de
cided conviction that a new paper could be started in New
York, which would make as much money as the Tribune; and,
declaring his willingness to share the risks of such an enter-
prise, urged Mr. Jones to revive the project which had already
given rise to negotiation and correspondence.

Mr. Jones hesitated, but explained that his own business as
a banker was at that time prosperous, and was likely to con-
tinue so, unless the Legislature should pass an act then pend-
ing, the practical operation of which would inflict serious loss
upon all the bankers in the State. This act provided for a
reduction of the rate of redemption of country money ; and, in
common with those who then conducted the banking business
under the Free Banking Law of the State, Mr. Jones was natu-
rally apprehensive of its damaging effect.

Mr. Raymond replied, laughing, that he should himself make
a strong effort to procure the passage of the objectionable act,
having now a strong personal motive ; but added, more gravely,
an expression of his opinion that it would be passed. He was
right. The act became a law; and its effect justified the appre-
hension. The bankers began to close up a business which had
become perilous instead of profitable ; and among the earliest to
retire were Mr. Jones and his partner, Mr. E. B. Wesley.

At this moment the Times became, in fact, an established
institution, for the money and the men were ready. Before
the session of the Legislature wa> broken up that winter, through
causes described in the preceding chapter, the plan of the

FOUNDATION OF THE NEW YORK TIMES. 91

forthcoming <l;iily journal had been substantially agreed upon.
Raymond's health had tailed; he was to «_•-,, to Knrope for the
summer, and to return in the full to assume, the editorship.
.Jones was to remain at home, to prepare the details of the
orirani/ation. Seven gentlemen contributed the capital; and
all were confident of the ultimate success of the venture.

The nominal capital of the Tmeswas one hundred thousand dol-
lars : hut all this sum was not required at the start. The sub-
scribers to the stock, and the proportions held by each, were
as follows : —

Hi-nry J. Raymond, 20 shares.

George Jones, 25

E. IJ. Wesley, 25

J. B. Plumb, Albany, 5

Daniel B. St. John, Albany, 5

Francis B. Ruggles, Albany, 6

E. B. Morgan, Aurora, 2

Christopher Morgan, Auburn, 2

Total number of owners, 8

Total number of shares, first subscription, ... 89

Mr. Raymond selected for the new paper the name of The
New York Daily Times; and the name of the business firm was
Raymond, Jones & Co. It was unanimously agreed that Mr.
Jones should become the publisher and the responsible financial
manager. It is due to Mr. Jones, and to the gentlemen who
were associated with him at the outset, to record the fact that
the twenty shares of stock assigned to Mr. Raymond wero pre-
sented to him, all paid up. This was a practical and gener-
ous recognition of Raymond's abilities and of tho value of his
services.

The preliminaries having been thus satisfactorily adjusted,
the formal announcement of the forthcoming sheet was the
next step in order. Then came a tempest.

The first intimation of the intended appearance of a rival to
the 'I'rihi'nr and the Herald produced a tlutter in the otlico of
tlu»e journals.* Tup flutter increased to a tremor : the tremor

* It Was characteristic of the management <>r tin- Tribune that a> >.><>n as
Mr. Uaynioiul made public announcement of his intention to start the Times,

92 JIENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

to a spasm. Efforts were made in insidious ways to create a
prejudice against Raymond. He was an Abolitionist; he was a
Radical; he was a man reckless of constitutions, of laws, and
of the public good ; he was a tool for the furtherance of party
schemes. All this, and more, found expression in the news-
papers, in letters from correspondents, in political clubs, and
in the current gossip of the day. But the subject of this ani-
madversion was all the time enjoying a quiet rest, three thou-
sand miles away, recruiting, among the scenes of the Old
World, the wasted health which needed thorough restoration
before he could turn to give battle. The whole summer of
1851 he gave to this work of recuperation ; but for the whole
of the same summer he and his newspaper were, at intervals,
the subjects of the town talk and of curious speculation.

The Times, therefore, was very well advertised without
much expenditure of money ; but when Raymond returned in
August, and called about him the assistants who had been en-
gaged in the service of the Times,* the time had arrived to
offer the challenge and begin the fight. In an earlier chapter
of this volume, certain reasons have been given, to account for
the immediate and continued success of the Times. The
harvest was ready. The tares had long grown together with
the wheat in New York journalism, and the day for the reap-
ing had come. The Tribune and the Herald were to lose, and

a bitter feeling found official expression in the following entry upon the car-
riers' book: —

"NOTICE TO THE CARRIERS.

" A new daily paper is to be issued in a fe\v days, and any carrier of the
Tribune, who interests himself in said paper, in getting up routes, etc., preju-
dicial to the interests of the Tribune, will forfeit his right of property in the
Ti ilium' route. We give this notice now, that all who do so may know that
they do it at the peril of losing their route on the Tribune."

This was not exactly fraternal, but it was the Tribune's way. Of course
the mandate fell flat, for the carriers did help the Times, and, moreover,
presently carried more copies of the ThiU's than of the Tribune, and continue
to do so to this day. Nor was this all; for Raymond's banner, unknown to
himself, became the standard of revolt in the Trihnnc ranks. Three editors,
a dozen good printers, the assistant foreman of the composing-room, and the
as>i>tant foreman of the press-room of the Tribune establishment resigned
their positions to accept better places under Raymond.

* But who had kept their own counsel for six mouths.

FOUNDATION OF THE NEW YORK TIMES. 93

the Times was to gain ; for thousands of newspaper readers in
New York had been for years prepared to welcome a journal
which should be pure in tone, reasonable in price, and prompt
in the collection of news. These conditions Raymond sought
to fullil ; and he succeeded.

Printer's ink was freely impressed into the service of the
Timcx, in the months of August and September ; and the sub-
joined Prospectus, which had already been largely circulated
through various channels, was advertised simultaneously in all
the leading journals of the city — none of which journals, it
might bo added, gave it gratuitous publicity : —

"NEW YORK DAILY TIMES;

"A NEW MORNING AND EVEXIXG DAILY NEWSPAPER,

" EDITED BY HENRY J. RAYMOND.

"PRICE ONK CKXT.

" On Tuesday, the 16th of September next,* the subscribers will commence
the publication, in the city of New York, of a Daily Morning and Evening
Newspaper, to be called The New York Daily Times, printed upon a folio
sheet of twenty-four columns, and sold at OXE CENT per copy, served in the
cities of New York, Brooklyn, and Williamsburgh, at six AND A WAKTKK
CENTS per week; sold by agents in all the principal cities of the United
States, and mailed to subscribers in the country at FOUR DOLLARS per annum.
Tin- Thin-* will present, daily: —

"Tin- news of the day, in :ill departments and from all quarters, special
attention being given to reports of legal, criminal, commercial, and financial
transactions in the city of New York, to political and personal movements in
all parts of the United State's, and to the early publication of reliable intelli-
gence from both continents.

" Correspondence from all parts of Europe, from California, Mexico, and
South America, and from all sections of the United States, written expressly
for the Timi-x by intelligent, gentlemen, permanently enlisted in its support: —

"Full reports of Congressional and Legislative proceeding-;; of public meet-
ing^, political and religious; transactions of agricultural, scientific, and me-
chanical associations; and generally of whatever may have inten -
importance for any considerable portion of the community : —

"Literary r< \ :> w> and intelligence, prepared by competent persons, and
giving a clear, impartial, and satisfactory view of the current literature of the
day : —

" Criticisms of music, the drama, painting, and of whatever in any depart-
ment of art may merit or engair- attention : —

"Editorial articles upon everything of interest or importance that m .
cur in any department, — political, social, religion-, literary, scientinY. or per-

*The day of actual publication was the 18th of September.

94 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

sonal, written with all the ability, care, and knowledge which the abundant
means at the disposal of the subscribers will enable them to command.

"For the principles which the Times will advocate, and for the manner in
which it will discuss them, the subscribers would refer to its columns, rather-
than to any preliminary professions which they might make. It is sufficient
to say that, as it is not established for the advancement of any party, sect, or
person, — it will discuss all questions of interest and importance, political,
social, and religious, to which the stirring events of the time may give rise.
It will canvass freely the character and pretensions of public men, the merits
and demerits of all administrations of government, national, State, and mu-
nicipal, and the worth of all institutions, principles, habits, and professions.
It will be under the editorial management and control of HENRY J. RAY-
MOND; and while it will maintain firmly and zealously those principles which
he may deem essential to the public good, and which are held by the great
Whig party of the United States more nearly than by any other political or-
ganization, its columns will be free from bigoted devotion to narrow in-
terests, and will be open, within necessary limitations, to communications
upon every subject of public importance.

" In its political and social discussions, the Times will seek to be CONSERV-
ATIVE, in such a way as shall best promote needful REFORM. It will endeavor
to perpetuate the good, and to avoid the evil, which the past has developed.
While it will strive to check all rash innovation, and to defeat all schemes
for destroying established and beneficent institutions, its best sympathies and
co-operation will be given to every just effort to reform society, to infuse
higher elements of well-being into our political and social organizations, and
to improve the condition and the character of our fellow-men. Its main re-
liance for all improvement, personal, social, and political, will be upon Chris-
tianity and Republicanism ; it will seek, therefore, at all times, the advanae-
meut of the one and the preservation of the other. It will inculcate devotion
to the Union and the Constitution, obedience to law, and a jealous love of
that personal and civil liberty which constitutions and laws are made to pre-
serve. While it will assert and exercise the right freely to discuss every
subject of public interest, it will not countenance any improper interference,
on the part of the people of one locality with the institutions, or even the
prejudices of any other. It will seek to allay, rather than excite, agitation, —
to extend industry, temperance, and virtue, — to encourage and advance edu-
cation ; to promote economy, concord, and justice in every section of our
country; to elevate and enlighten public sentiment; and to substitute reason
for prejudice, a cool and intelligent judgment for passion, in all public action
and in all discussions of public affairs.

"The subscribers intend to make the Times at once the best and the cheapest
daily family newspaper in the -United States. They have abundant means at
their command, and are disposed to use them for the attainment of that end.
The degree of success which may attend their efforts will be left to the
public judgment.

" Voluntary correspondence, communicating news, is respectfully solicited
from all parts of the world; all letters, so received, being accompanied by
the writers' real names, if used, will be liberally paid for.

"Advertisements will be conspicuously published at favorable rates. Ad-

FIRST OFFICE OF THE NEW YORK TIMES, 113 NASSAU
Roek.«xi, Photo. STREET, -18S1.

FOUNDATION OF THE NEW YORK TIMES. 95

vcrtisements for servants :m<l others wanting employment, and notices of
all meetings, political and religious, will bo inserted at half the regular price.
No advertisement will be charged for less than five lines.

"All payments for subscription or advertising must be made in advance;
and postage on all letters must be prepaid.

" Communications for the editorial department must be addressed to HEXIJY
J. RAYMOND, editor of the New York Times; letters upon business or en-
closing money, to RAYMOND, JONES & Co., publishers.

" THE WEEKLY FAMILY TIMES

will be issued from the same office, and mailed to subscribers on Thursday
of each week. It will be printed upon a large quarto sheet, and will contain
tales, poetry, biography, the news of the clay, editorials upon all subjects of
interest, and a variety of interesting and valuable matter. No effort will be
spared to make it superior, as a family newspaper, to any published hitherto.
It will be mailed to subscribers in any part of the United States and Europe,
at the following prices : —

Single copies, $2 per annum.

Ten copies 15 "

Twenty copies, 20 "

" Subscriptions and advertisements, left at the office, No. 118 Nassau Street,
or sent by mail, are respectfully solicited.

'^KAYMOND, JONES & CO.
"NEW YORK, August 30, 1851."

The proprietors of the Times found difficulty in procuring a
suitable building, in a central situation, but finally selected the
brown stone house No. 113 Nassau Street, between Ann and
Beckman Streets, which was then in process of construction.
The owner of this building intended it for a store; but his
means had suddenly become exhausted, and work upon it had
nearly ceased, when Kaymond, .Tones & Co. made him a favor-
able olFer, and took possession. In great haste, the upper lloors
were roughly finished, fonts of type were f: laid ;" and one of
Hoe's steam cylinder presses — purchased at a cost of twenty
thousand dollars — was set up in the basement of the building.
with no more than the usual delay; but on the 18th of the
month the ground floor was still unlit for occupancy. The pub-
lication ollice of the Times was opened in temporary quarters
in a little shop on the opposite side of the -treet (No. 11*).
whence it was transferred to its proper place after the lap-
a tew weeks.

90 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

On the night of the 17th of September, the first number of
the Times was "made up," in open lofts, destitute of windows,
gas, speaking-tubes, dumb-waiters, and general conveniences.
All was raw and dismal . The writer remembers sitting by the open
window at midnight, looking through the dim distance at Ray-
mond's first lieutenant, who was diligently writing " brevier "
at a rickety table at the end of the barren garret ; his only
light a flaring candle, held upright by three nails in a block of
wood ; at the city editor, and the news-men, and the reporters,
all eagerly scratching pens over paper, their countenances
half-lighted, half-shaded by other guttering candles ; at Ray-
mond, writing rapidly and calmly, as he always wrote, but
under similar disadvantages ; and all the night the soft summery
air blew where it listed, and sometimes bleAv out the feeble
lights ; and grimy little " devils " came down at intervals from
the printing-room, and cried for " copy ; " and every man in
the company, from the chief to the police reporter, gave his
whole mind to the preparation of the initial sheet. The price
of the paper, which, on the next day, promptly redeemed its
promise of appearance, was only one cent ; but it contained all
the news of the day, and it was good, lively, and sensible.

Mr. Raymond's salutatory address to the readers of the Times
was a characteristic production, — clearly cut, manly, and
temperate. "We reproduce it here entire : —

"A WORD ABOUT OURSELVES.

" We publish to-day the first number of the New York Daily Times, and we
intend to issue it every morning (Sundays excepted) for an indefinite number
of years to come.

"We have not entered upon the task of establishing a new daily paper in
this city, without due consideration of its difficulties as well as its encourage-
ments. We understand perfectly that great capital, great industry, groat
patience are indispensable to its success, and that even with all these, failure
is not impossible. But we know, also, that within the last five years the
reading population of this city has nearly doubled, while the number of daily
newspapers is no greater now than it was then ; that many of those now
published are really class journals, made up for particular classes of readers;
that others are objectionable upon grounds of morality ; and that no news-
paper, which was really jit to live, ever yet expired for lack of readers.

" As a Xni-spajifr, presenting all the news of the day from all parts of the
world, we intend to make the Times as good as the best of those now issued

FOUNDATION OF THE NEW YORK TIMES. 97

in the city of New York; and in all the higher utilities of the press, —as a
public instructor in all departments of action and of thought, we hope to
make it decidedly superior to existing journals of the same class. Of course,
all this cannot be done at once; some little time is necessary to get the ma-
chinery in easy working order — to arrange for correspondence, to receive
exchanges for various quarters of the world, and to enable assistants to find
just the places in which they can work most efficiently. We hope, however,
at the very outset, to show that we are disposed, and in course of time that
we are able, to made as good a newspaper in all respects, and in many a much
better one, than those hitherto offered to the New York public.-

" We have fixed the price of the Times at one cent each copy, or six and a quar-
ter cents a week, delivered to subscribers. Carriers, of course, make their protit
upon this ; so that the amount which we receive barely covers the cost of the
paper upon which it is printed, the deficiency being made up b3" advertise-
ments. We have chosen this price, however, deliberately, and for the sake
of obtaining for the paper a large circulation and corresponding influence.
That influence shall always be upon the side of Morality, of Industry, of
Education and Religion. We shall seek, in all our discussions and inculca-
tions, to promote the best interests of the society in which we live — to aid
the advancement of all beneficent undertakings, aud to promote, in every
way. and to the utmost of curability, the welfare of our fellow-men.

"During the past summer, the public press throughout the country has
speculated and predicted, to a very considerable extent, and in all possible
ways, upon the character and purposes of this journal. It has been praised
aud denounced in advance, for principles to which it was supposed to be de-
voted, and for purposes which it was said to entertain. Some have said it was to
be an abolitionist paper — a free-soil paper — devoted to the work of anti-
slavery agitation — radical in everything, reckless of constitutions, laws, and
the public good. Others have ascribed its establishment to a design to push
individual interests or party schemes ; one announces that it is to sustain Mr.
Webster, another General Scott, and another Mr. Clay for the presidency.
In fact, almost every possible variety of sentiment and of purpose has beeu
ascribed to it in one quarter or another.

'• We have not the least fault to find with all this. Some of it proceeded
from a malicious desire to prejudice the public mind against it, while much
of it sprung doubtless from that propensity to r/twip which governs tea-
tables and newspapers, and which readers of all classes are su-pected of
not disliking overmuch. None of it is likely in the long run to prove injuri-
ous; on the contrary, it has contributed greatly towards making our i>
known, and lias stimulated public curiosity concerning it, to a degree which
our own exertions might have striven for much longer in vain. We are,
therefore, rather thankful for it than otherwise; while to those numerous
journals throughout the country, whose love of fair play as well as personal
kindness has led them to interpose on our behalf, any expression we might
make would fall far short of the gratitude we feel.

'• I'pon all topics, — Political, Social, Moral, aud Religious. —we intend
that the paper shall speak for itself; and we only ask that it may be judged
accordingly. We shall be Con- In all eases where we think Conserv-

atism essential to the public good; and we shall be L'm'ic'tl in everything
7

98 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

•which may seem to us to require radical treatment, aud radical reform. "\Te
do not believe that everything iii society is either exactly right, or exactly
wrong; what is good we desire to preserve and improve ; what is evil, to ex-
terminate, or reform.

"We shall endeavor so to conduct all our discussions of public affairs, as
to leave no one in doubt as to the principles we espouse, or the measures we ad-
vocate. And while we design to be decided and explicit in all our positions,
we shall at the same time seek to be temperate aud measured in all our lan-
guage. We do not mean to write as if we were in a passion, unless that shall
really be the case ; aud we shall make it a point to get into a passion as rarely
as possible. There are very few things in this world which it is worth while
to get angry about ; and they are just the things that auger will not improve.
In controversies with other journals, with individuals, or with parties, we
shall engage only when, in our opinion, some important public interest can
be promoted thereby : — and even then, we shall endeavor to rely more upon
fair argument than upon misrepresentation or abusive language.

" We hope to make the DAILY TIMES acceptable to the great mass of our
people, aud shall spare no effort to do so. We have an abundance of means, —
plenty of able and experienced assistance, and every facility for making at
once the best and the cheapest newspaper in the United States. We know
how much easier it is to say this than it is to do it; but we hope to show, in
due course of time, that we have not failed in our promise, or disappointed
any just expectation.

" We shall seldom trouble our readers with our personal affairs; but these
few words, at the outset, seemed to be required."

The opening declaration in this address, announcing the in-
tention of the proprietors of the Times to publish it " for an
indefinite number of years to come," was like the crack of a
whip. It sounded dismally to the opposition journals, but it
pleased the readers of the new paper, for it showed confidence and
vigor ; and the promise to make the Times a good newspaper,
as well as a cheap one, was redeemed at the beginning, and has
ever since been kept. Subscriptions came in rapidly after the
appearance of the first number, and advertisements followed.
The Times was a success ; and in the new adjustment which
occurred in the field of New York journalism it was found there
was room enough for all. It was true that Raymond attracted
to the Times readers who had become discontented with the
Tribune and the Herald; but the partisans of Greeley and of
Bennett still clung to their favorites, for whom the Times was
apparently unsuited. In short, the display of ill-temper which
was elicited by the venture of Raymond, Jones & Co., proved
to have been wholly unnecessary.

FOUNDATION OF TIIK NEW YOI:K TIMES. 99

One of the leadinir editorial article's in the first number of the
7 ////'•-• di the all'airs of Cuba. Then, as no\v, the <jiies-

tion of the independence of that island was u topic of the day :
and, in view of the passing events of 1869, it is int< -re-ling {<,
remember what was said by the Times in 1851. The following
is the material part of the article in question : —

"Whether it be right or wrong; whether it be in accordance with, or
against, the principles of international law; whether it be any of their
business or not, — the Americans icill always sympathise with any people utruy-
yliitij, or supposed to be struyyUng, against oppression. There may be some
among ns who can look coolly upon such contests, and regulate their senti-
ments concerning them by their intellectual notions of law and national
duty; but the great mass of the people of the United States, acting solely
from the impulses of free hearts and quick sympathies, will always sympa-
thize with, and stand ready to aid, so far as they can, every nation, or col-
ony, which may desire and endeavor to throw off hurtful and injurious
restraint, and to secure for themselves the same proud position and the same
independence of political action which we enjoy. It wrould be strange, in-
deed, if it were otherwise, — prizing freedom, as we do, and believing as we
profess to believe that freedom is the natural right of every people, brought
into national existence, as we were, under the influence of this belief, and
through the aid of sympathizing allies, — ^ would be strange, indeed, if trc-
could look with cold indifference upon the efforts of others to throw off unjust
oppression, and to regulate their political conduct by laws of th"ir oicu cnict-

Knconraged by their success, the proprietors of the Times
were prompt to seize every advantage, and the new sheet was
pushed in all directions. Simultaneously with the appearance
of its fourth number, a little handbill, nine inches long and six
inches wide, was thrust under the doors of thousands of dwell-
ings in Xew Ycrk. It s<«t forth in short compass the low price
and the peculiar character of the Times. The paper was "only
sixpence a week," and it contained "an immense amount of
reading matter for that price," and more to the same effect .
A> a curiosity, the following exact copy of this production is
appended : —

"A CARD.

"The carrier of the New York Daily Times proposes to leave it at this
house every morning for a week, for the perusal of the family, and to enable
them, if they desire it, to receive it regularly.

"The Times is a very du-ap paper, costing the subscriber only -
week, and contains an immense amount of reading matter for that price.

100 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

The proprietors have abundant capital, able assistants, and every facility for
making it as good a paper as there is in the city of New York. It will con-
tain regularly all the news of the day, full telegraphic reports from all quar-
ters of the country, full city news, correspondence, editorials, etc., etc.

" At the end of the week the carrier will call for his pay; and a continuance
of subscription is very respectfully solicited.
" NEW YORK, Sept. 21st, 1851."

Through legitimate channels, the Times was thus brought to
the notice of all classes of readers, and while those engaged in
its service were adequately rewarded for heavy labor, money
was also freely spent in procuring early news, and in providing
correspondence and contributions. In the first twelve months,
thirteen thousand dollars were paid to the editors of the paper, —
a sum considered enormous in those days, although a mere
trifle now, — twenty-five thousand dollars were expended in the
mechanical department ; forty thousand dollars were paid for
the white paper upon which the Times was printed. The Hoe
press and the general outfit of the office cost nearly fifty thou-
sand dollars. In all, one hundred thousand dollars were sunk
before a profit was made. The gradual increase of advertising
patronage of course helped to pay expenses ; but the outlay
was for a long time heavy and constant. The capitalists in the
firm drew no money out, having courage to wait, and sufficient
means for their own support while they waited. Mr. Ray-
mond,-embarrassed in the adjustment of his affairs with Gen-
eral Webb, was content to draw a salary of fifty dollars a week,
upon which he lived.

The general results of the first year were described by Mr.
Raymond in an article entitled " The Year One," which appeared
in the leading column of the Times on the 17th of September,
1852. This article is an important part of the history of the
Times, and we reproduce it entire : —

"THE YEAR ONE.

" This day's issue closes the first volume of the New York Daily Times.
The year's experience has disappointed alike the expectations of its friends,
and the predictions of its foes. At the outset, owing mainly to pei-sonal
causes, it was compelled to encounter as fierce hostility as any new enterprise
ever met. Advantage was taken, by men whose personal resentments uni-
formly overbear all considerations of justice and fair play, of the absence

FOUNDATION OF THE NEW YORK TIMES. 101

from the country of the principal editor, to defame his character, belie his
motives, misrepresent iu the most shameful manner the objects and scope of
the enterprise, and to prejudice, by all the arts of unscrupulous cunning, the
public mind against the Daily Times. These efforts were continued, with re-
lentless and unrebuked mendacity, for some mouths previous to the com-
mencement of the paper ; and were seconded iu various quarters by those who
became innocently their dupes, as well as by those whom selfish fear of ri-
valry prompted to a similar course.

" Our readers will bear us witness that we have troubled them but little
hitherto with reference to matters of this kind. We have allowed this tide
of interested hostility to take its own course, feeling quite certain that it
must in the end exhaust itself, or be turned back by public justice and the
sober judgment of the reading community. We have reached a point now at
which we are entirely willing to abide by the verdict of the tribunal to which
our only appeal was made. We have left the Times to speak for itself, clay
by day ; and we have left its habitual readers to judge for themselves of its
character, of the justice of the hostility it has encountered, and of the truth
or falsehood of the widespread rumors by which it has been assailed. The
favorite shape in which the interested enemies of the paper and its editor
have clothed their hostility has been the charge of Abolitionism. Day after
day, week after week, and month after month, — from a period antecedent by
some months to its publication, down to the present time, — a certain portion
of the public press, both in this city and out of it, has denounced the Times
as an abolitionist organ, — as devoted to the interests of the anti-slavery cru-
sade. — as animated by this sentiment and controlled by this leading and pre-
dominant purpose. We have never stopped to contradict or correct this cal-
umny, partly because we are never disposed to 'give reasons upon
compulsion,' but mainly 'because we felt sure the public would not credit
it unless the contents of the Times should show it to be true. And now, at
the close of its first volume, after one year's trial, with three ltun<J.i-'
twelve daily issues from which to select the evidence, we are quite willing to
allow its twenty-live thousand subscribers, and its hundred thousand readers
iu every section of the Union, and comprising all shades of opinion, to say
for themselves whether the allegation is true or false. We do not suppose
that, upon that or upon any other subject, the Times has always expressed
opinions to which everybody would at once assent; but we do assert that its
leading aim, — the guiding purpose traceable throughout its whole career. —
the principles it has maintained, the tone it has- preserved, and the spirit and
scope of all its discussions, have been in the most direct and palpable hostil-
ity to the slanderous allegations by which it has been assailed.

" The strongest possible proof that the public confidence in the Times has
not been in the least degree touched !>y these assaults, i.- found in the success
by which it has been crowned. It lias been immeasurably more SUCO
in all respects, than any new paper of a similar character ever before pub-
lished in the United States. There is not one of the established and power-
ful journals by which it is now surrounded, in this or in any other city, which
closed the lirst year of its existence with an experience at all comparable to
that of the Daily Times. In circulation, in income, in intluence. in every-
thing which goes to make up the aggregate of a successful journal, it chal-

102 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

lenges a comparison with any other paper ever published. We have printed
during the year, as shown by the self-adjusting register upon our Mammoth
Press, seven million five hundred and fifty thousand copies; which gives an
average daily circulation of twenty-four thousand one hundred and ninety-
eight, from the very day it started. That circulation has fluctuated, more or
less, of course, as does that of all cheap papers, with the season, the demands
of business, etc., etc. ; but commencing with no subscribers at all it has steadily
advanced, and is now increasing as rapidly as at any time since it was three
months old. Its readers are among the best portion of our citizens, — those
who read it because they like it, and not because it panders to any special
taste, and least of all to any low or degrading appetite. It is made up for all
classes, and it is designed to cover all departments. Whatever has interest
or importance for any considerable portion of the community has found a
place, according to its limits, within its columns. We feel that we can
safely appeal to our readers for proof of the fact, that we have neither spared
labor nor expense in the endeavor to make the Times in all respects as good
a newspaper, as interesting and useful for family perusal, as complete in its
summary of news, as reliable in its statements, as able and candid in its dis-
cussions, and as perfect in every way, as any newspaper in the city, without
regard to its price. We have expended during the year not less than one
hundred thousand dollars upon its various departments. Of this amount
over thirteen thousand dollars have been paid to editors, correspondents, and
contributors; about twenty-five thousand dollars have been paid to composi-
tors, pressmen, and others employed in the mechanical departments of the
paper; AVC have paid very nearly forty thousand dollars for the white paper
alone upon which it has been printed ; and upon every other department,
whether in obtaining news, correspondence from distant points, articles
of ability, and written with care, upon engrossing topics, or in improving the
typographical and general appearance of the paper, the same liberal, and
even lavish, expenditure has been bestowed.

" We commenced the publication of the Times with the determination to
make it the best family daily newspaper in the city of New York. After one
year's experience, encouraged by the abundant support of the public we have
received, we are resolved to go forward with all possible speed to the full at-
tainment of that object. We have thus far had obstacles to encounter —
some of which the lapse of time has removed, while others will be made to
yield to the energy and resources we shall bring to the task. AVe have suf-
fered most of all from lack of room; as, owing to the limited size of the sheet,
we could neither give as much reading matter daily as we desired, nor afford
to take advertisements at so low a price as other papers. We shall endeavor,
during the coming year, to obviate these difficulties, so far as possible.

" So much for the year that is past. To-morrow we shall enter upon our
Second year and the Second Volume of the Daily Times; and we will then
hold some further conference with our readers upon these matters of direct
interest to them, as well as to ourselves."

THE FIRST WORKERS ON THE TIMES. 103

CHAPTER XI.

THE FIRST WORKERS ON THE TIMES — A RETROSPECT.

THE JOURNALISTS WHO JOINED RAYMOND — ALEXANDER C. WILSON — JAMES W.
. 6IMONTON — THE TIMES AND ITS CHARGES OF CORRUPTION IN CONGRESS — A

PAGE OP HISTORY — THE TIMES TRIUMPHANT NEHEMIAH C. PALMER —

CALEB C. NORVELL — MICHAEL HENNESSEY.

WHEN Raymond announced his purpose of establishing the
Times, he had no difficulty in securing competent assistants.
Known as a trained journalist, an accomplished scholar, a pol-
ished gentleman, and an indefatigable worker, he attracted to
his paper men who had previously slaved for pittances, under
masters who were neither courteous nor noble. Numberless
applications were made for places in the service of the new
paper ; and from the whole number he chose half a dozen.
The gentlemen engaged were experienced journalists, who,
from humble beginnings, had steadily worked their way up-
wards, until they had achieved reputations for talent, skill, in-
dustry, and trustworthiness. Many years later, Mr. Raymond
frankly attributed to this early company of his assistants a great
measure of the success which had attended his independent
venture.

The first assistant in the Times, on the 18th of September,
1851, and for several years afterwards, was Mr. Alexander C.
Wilson, a native of New Jersey, whose previous experience as
the conductor of a local journal in that State had made him
familiar with the general requirements of journalism. Aside
from this professional qualification, Mr. Wilson's services to
the new paper were extremely valuable in another direction.
His mind, encyclopaedic and precise, had been carefully trained
by a long course of reading and study. Hi* early years had

104 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

been passed under the care of a father* whose culture was
large, whose associations were with the foremost men of his
time, and whose tenclerest care was always bestowed upon his
children. The son, storing in a retentive memory the treasures
he had amassed, was able, in later life, to turn them to useful
account. Mr. "Wilson finally left the Times to assume the Pres-
idency of a Bank Note Engraving Company in New York ; was
afterwards editor of the New York Commercial Advertiser for a
few months ; and in the winter of 1866 accepted the position of
Agent of the New York Associated Press in London, in which
city he is now living.

Mr. James W. Sinioutou, who left the Courier and En-
quirer, in 1851, to join the editorial staif of the Times, is now
the General Agent of the Associated Press in New York.
His personal history is interesting. For twenty-five }-ears he
has been actively engaged in newspaper life, and is widely
known as one of the most successful men in the ranks of
American journalism. Beginning at the age of twenty-one, as
a law-court reporter for the American Republican, — a "Native
American " paper then published in New York by Leavitt &
Trow, — he was content, like Raymond, to work for small pay,
in order to learn the routine of the profession he had deter-
mined to follow. His salary was five dollars a week ; and the
proprietors of the American Republican declared themselves
" well satisfied " with his services ! Through the kindly aid of
Mr. Charles Burdett, — of whom there are many cheery recollec-
tions among the older newspaper men in New York, — Mr.
Simonton soon made material additions to his income by extra
work for other papers ; and within a year he went to Washing-
ton as a member of the staff of Senate reporters, — the semi-
official corps who reported the debates for Ritchie's Union under
Mr. Polk's administration. Later, he wrote sketches of the
proceedings and debates in both Houses of Congress, for the
New York Courier and Enquirer. In November, 1850, he
went to California to start a Whig paper at the seat of govern-
ment ; but while he was on the way thither another person

* The late General Wilson, U. S. Senator from New Jersey.

THE FIRST WORKERS OX THE TIMES. 105

stepped into the field. Mr. Simonton theu entered into an
engagement with the proprietors of the San Francisco Courier,
the leading Whig paper of the State ; but after conducting that
journal for three months, he returned to New York to take
service in the Conner and Enquirer, as night editor under
Mr. Raymond. He continued to hold this place under Mr.
Spaulding after Mr. Raymond's departure for Europe in the
spring of 1851 ; but in the fall of that year resigned, to assume
a similar position on the Times. His experience in Washington,
however, soon made his presence in that city essential to the
Times, and for several years he was in constant attendance upon
the sessions of Congress as the correspondent of the paper.
In this service he displayed great energy and sagacity ; and
he often procured for the Times important intelligence in ad-
vance of other correspondents. He is naturally quick, and he
has always cherished a profound conviction that it is the first
duty of a good newspaper man to " beat " all his rivals in the
collection of early news.

One incident in the life of Mr. Simonton possesses historical
interest. In January, 1857, while he occupied the position of
Washington correspondent of the Times, he wrote a letter to
that paper, exposing a scheme of land robbery which had been
devised by the Congressional lobby. Under the guise of grant-
ing to the Territory of Minnesota certain public lauds for the
purpose of aiding in the construction of railroads, a bill had
been prepared which gave away nearly the whole domain of
that territory. It was, in fact, what the Times of January 6th
called it, — "a magnificent land-stealing scheme." Mr. Sirnoii-
ton fearlessly exposed the corruption of the lobby, and of the
members of Congress who were notoriously the tools of the
lobby ; and, while acquitting the House Committee on Public
Lands of any complicity in the fraud, insisted that the mem-
bers of that committee had been " overborne by outside influ-
ences." He added: "If the committee will take the pains to
inquire, they will find the baser strata of the lobby awaiting
the advent of this bill with greedy hands, ready to shame all
decency in the influences to be used for its success when once
before the House. As a guide to their investigations let me

106 HEXRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

tell them, to begin with, that this bill is the special pet of that
corrupt organization of insiders and outsiders whose evil influ-
ence upon the legislation of the present Congress has become
almost as notorious as the Congress itself. The proportion of
honest men who have anything to do with it would have been
scarcely sufficient to save Sodom and Gomorrah from destruc-
tion, while there is hardly an individual hanging about the cap-
ital, living upon ill-gotten gains, and whose hands reek with the
slime of congressional corruption, who does not look to this
Minnesota land-bill as the present Mecca of his hopes, — the
scheme through which especially he expects to secure the chief
reward of his winter's humiliation and non-indictable crime."
When the Times containing this letter reached Washington,
there was a stir in Congress, — besides great rage in the lobby.
The House of Representatives ordered a Committee of Investi-
gation. Before this committee Mr. Simonton was summoned,
and named witnesses who established the fact of corruption in
the House ; but he declined to give the names of certain
other members, in regard to whom his suspicions had been
aroused in the course of confidential conversations with
them in his professional capacity. He had been satisfied
corruption existed ; ' it was his duty to expose it. He
had done so, and had acted with a pure motive. More, he
would not say. For this contumacy, he was summoned to the
bar of the House, and there, in his own defence, delivered a
temperate and logical address, adhering to his first declarations,
and arguing the whole question upon its merits. The result
was, that on the 19th of February, the committee made its
report to the House, declaring the charges of corruption
proved, and recommending the summary expulsion from the
House of four members of the body. The Times and its corre-
spondent were, therefore, fully vindicated ; and once more a
Free Press had performed useful service for the public good.

In the spring of 1857, when a Mormon warwas expected, Mr.
Simonton went to Utah as the representative of the Times; but
neither correspondents nor troops had anything to do, for the
Mormons refused to fight. Mr. Simonton then went to Cali-
fornia, where he bought one-half of the San Francisco Bulletin;
varying his journey by a trip to the newly discovered gold

THE FIRST WORKERS ON THE TIMES. 107

mines on Frascr River, full accounts of which he sent to the
Times. In 1858, he took up his residence in San Fran-'
to edit the Bulletin, and remained in that city until the -winter
of 1859-60, when he again went to Washington, and .subse-
quently resumed his connection with the Times. . For several
years past, he has held stock in the Times, and he is still a
partner in the San Francisco Bulletin Company ; but the duties
of the Associated Press Agency now occupy the greater part
of his time.

Mr. Nehemiah C. Palmer, City Editor of the Time*, joined
the editorial force of that paper early in 1852, and died in the
service on the 7th of June, 1853. He was a man of exceeding
modesty, but very earnest, conscientious, and painstaking,—
a facile, agreeable, and forcible writer, and a genial and amiable
companion. His first experience in journalism was as an
editor and publisher of the Buffalonian, at Bumilo, New York,
when he was only eighteen years of age. He was afterwards
engaged upon the Herald in New York. His predecessor in
the City Editorship of the Times, for a few months, was Mr.
James B. Swain, afterwards the Albany correspondent of that
paper.

Mr. Caleb C. Norvell, long and favorably known as the
commercial editor of the Times, was one of the earliest and
most valuable accessions to its staff. His service has been
faithful and unremitting for eighteen years ; and he is now the
veteran of the editorial department of the Times. He is a
native of Tennessee ; but the greater part of his life has been
passed in the North, chiefly in the conduct of monetary affairs.
His experience is large, and his knowledge of the principles
and laws of trade and finance exceptionally profound.

Mr. Michael Hennessey, a brother of the artist William J.
Hennessey, was also an early worker on the Times, acting as
assistant to Mr. Norvell.

The whole number of printers required to put into type the
first number of the Times was only eighteen. The number of
printers employed in the same office to-day is sixty !

In its second year, the Times gave employment to a larger
number of editors, contributors, and reporters; for the size and

108 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

the price of the paper had both been doubled, and more
space was afforded for the display of its resources. But before
this period of its history is traced, it is proper to pause, for the
purpose of considering two notable events which conduced
largely to the popularity and the influence of its Editor.

KOSSUTH — RAYMOND — WEBB. 109

CHAPTER XII.

KOSSUTH — KAYMOXD — WEBB.

ARRIVAL OP LOUIS KOSSUTH IN NEW YORK IN 1851 — ENTHUSIASTIC RECEPTION

MUNICIPAL BANQUET IN THE IRVING HOUSE RAYMOND AND JAMES

WATSON WEBB — A LIVELY ALTERCATION — WEBB DEFIANT — POLICE RESTOR-
ING ORDER — WEBB'S SUPPRESSED SPEECH SUBSEQUENTLY PRINTED — THE

PRESS BANQUET TO KOSSUTH IN THE ASTOR HOUSE — ADMIRABLE SPEECH
BY MR. RAYMOND — HIS ADVOCACY OF THE CAUSE OF HUNGARY.

Louis KOSSUTH arrived in the United States in 1851, land-
ing first at Staten Island, in the harbor of New York, on
Friday, the 5th of December.* He came with the flavor of a
hero. At the head of the race of the Magyars, he had made a
gallant stand against the tyranny of a despotic ruler. The
representative of liberal ideas, he had been sustained by the
moral sympathy of the enlightened, both in Europe and Amer-
ica; but, defeated in- the field, powerless in councils which had
been suddenly undermined by treachery or cowardice, he fled.
The sympathy evoked by his bravery, and the admiration ox-
cited by the brilliancy of his genius, had been but unsubstan-
tial rewards for his efforts, as well as insufficient props for the
edifice of Liberty he had endeavored to erect. He came to
the United States, by his own admission, in search of the
sinews of war, which he designated by the phrase " material

* The steamer Humboldt, from Havre and Cowes, arrived off Staten Island at
two o'clock in the morning, having on board Governor Kossuth and his
family. In expectation of his coming, D*r. A. Sidney Doane, Health Officer
of the port, had kept ceaseless vigil ; and when the steamer was first de-
scried, at midnight, a discharge of rockets announced the event. A large
tent had been erected on the shore of Staten Island, to which, early on the
following morning, Kossnth was conveyed, to undergo the ceremonies of a
formal reception, and Richard Adams Locke was the orator of the occasion.
Kossuth was then permitted to go on to Xe\v York, where he became the sub-
ject of continued attentions.

110 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

aid." — a phrase which soon passed into a proverb. His re-
ception was gushingly enthusiastic. The period was long
anterior to the War, and the hospitable, excitable population of
New York had not yet. become wearied with shoutings and
dinner-giving, and the other accompaniments of a grand wel-
come to a distinguished guest. Moreover, Kossuth was a rep-
resentative man, and he had undertaken a work which appealed
directly to the heart of the American citizen. True, he had
failed, but not, at that time, irremediably; and his very
misfortunes served the double purpose of intensifying the pop-
ular demonstrations in his favor, and of replenishing his ex-
hausted treasury with the voluntary contributions of his
admirers.

Mr. Raymond, whose sympathy al \vays went freely out to-
wards the oppressed, had warmly espoused the cause of Hun-
gary, from the outbreak of the insurrection ; and he was one
of the earliest to welcome the Magyar chief. It was shrewdly
suspected, however, that the exceedingly conspicuous part
taken b}7 the Times, in recording the movements of the guest
of the day, was due, in part, to the .desire of its conductor to
eclipse his contemporaries in the fulness and accuracy of its
detail. Mr. Raymond was unquestionably sincere in the sen-
timents he expressed in relation to the struggle- led by Kos-
suth : but the newspaper instinct was strong within him ; and
the Times was less than three months old when Kossuth land-
ed. His arrival was the first notable event of the kind which
had occurred since the foundation of the new journal : the op-
portunity was favorable for the display of enterprise. Mr.
Raymond was quick to sec his advantage, — the part he took
was that of a skilful editor, a polished orator, and a pugna-
cious controversialist, all in one. For himself he obtained
reputation ; for his paper he earned credit. The Kossuth
fever was an excellent advertisement for the Times.

The municipal banquet to Kossuth was given at the Irving
House, then situated at the corner of Broadway and Chambers
streets, on Thursday evening, December 11, 1851. Mayor
Kingsland presided. The banqueting hall was elaborately dec-
orated, and among the guests were Robert Rantoul, of Massa-

KOSSUTH RAYMOND WEBB . Ill

chusetts ; Chatmcey Cleveland, Governor of Connecticut ; Hugh
Maxwell, Collector of the Port of New York; William V.
Brady, Postmaster of the city ; Kccorder F. A. Tallmadge ;
John Young, United States Treasurer ; the members of the
Common Council, the Commissioners of Emigration ; United
States District Attorney J. Prescott Hall ; John Van Buren ;
Ogden Hoffman ; General James Watson Webb ; Major-Gen-
eral Sandford and the members of his Staff; Colonel Gardner,
of the regular army ; C. V. Anderson, Registrar ; Alexander
W. Bradford, Surrogate; Simeon Draper; Moses H. Grinnell ;
James S. Thayer, Public Administrator ; Charles O'Connor ; E.
K. Collins ; Marshall O. Eoberts, and many others distinguished
in political, commercial, and literary life.

Letters of regret were received from Daniel Webster, Henry
Clay, Lewis Cass, William H. Seward, Hamilton Fish, Rolxert
C. Winthrop, Governor Washington Hunt, Christopher Morgan,
and J. H. Hobart Haws. After a brief introductory speech
by Mayor Kingsland, Kossuth was introduced and spoke for
upwards of an hour. Then occurred a curious scene, in which
Raymond figured conspicuously.

The Mayor announced the sixth regular toast, as follows : —

" The Press — The organized Voice of Freedom — It whispers hope to the
oppressed, and thunders defiance at the tyrant."

Mr. Raymond rose to respond to this toast, and General James
Watson Webb, of the Courier and Enquirer, also rose to per-
form the same office. This circumstance gave rise to much
confusion. Then were loud cries for '' Raymond " and other
cries for " Webb," from different parts of the house ; and con-
siderable time elapsed before order could be restored. Mr.
Raymond then proceeded to say that he had risen simply to per-
form a duty assigned to him by the -managers of the banquet,
lie was interrupted at this point by Gen. Webb, when the cries
were renewed, and great confusion followed . After a protract ed
altercation, in the course of which the police came forward and
interposed, General Webb sat down, and Mr. Raymond re-
sumed. Repeating that he had risen simply to perform a duty
which had been assigned to him, he added that he had persisted

112 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

in its performance from a habit he had of finishing whatever
he undertook! He had merely, on behalf of the profession to
which he had the honor to belong, — he continued, — to return
thanks for the compliment which had just been paid it. He
continued at some length, frequently interrupted by applause,
closing with this sentiment : —

" The First Minister Plenipotentiary from the Independent Eepublic of Hun-
gary — May he hasten to receive the welcome which awaits him on these
shores."

This toast was received with applause ; and then General
Webb again took the floor. He was greeted with loud cries :
« Sit down ! " " Hear him ! " " JSo, no ! " " Order ! " " Order ! "
Silence having finally been restored, the Mayor said it was the
desire of the distinguished guest of the evening that the gentle-
man should be heard. The confusion continuing, Mr. Ray-
mond obtained the attention of the assembly, and said it was
his wish, and he believed the wish of all the members of the
Press at least who were present, that the gentleman, against
whom such signs of disapprobation had been expressed, should
be allowed to speak. This was magnanimous.

General Webb again rose, and read some remarks from a
printed slip, in which he declared it to be the frequent duty of
the Press to resist public opinion, etc. ; but, after he had been
once or twice interrupted, he was at last forced to desist by the
cries, hisses, and noises of all kinds, that were made around him.

The Times' report of this dinner, on the following day,
after describing this scene, said, " We intended to publish the
remarks of General Webb, in full, this morning, but their great
length and the pressure upon our columns forbid." On the
following day, the Times surrendered several columns of space
to descriptions of the movements of Kossuth and his suite, as
well as to reports of speeches made at the banquet, which had
been crowded out of its report on the previous day, including
that of General Webb. Webb's speech was copied from the
Courier and Enquirer, and made two columns of solid rninion
type in the Times. The following are one or two passages
from it : —

KOSSUTH — RAYMOND — WEBB . 113

" SPEKCII OF JAMKS WATSON WEBB, PREPARED FOR, BUT NOT MADE A , THK
DINNER TO KOSSUTH, AT THE IRVING HOUSE, LAST K VEXING.

" For -twenty-four years, Mr. President, — nearly a quarter of a century, — I
have been the sole responsible editor of the Courier and Enquirer. And this
long period embraces so much of the time usually allotted to man here on
earth, that I feel it my right to speak of the Press as one who is looking back
upon the past ; and who may, therefore, speak in its praise without being
liable to the charge of self-laudation.

. . . . " Sir, when the abolitionism which has so recently shaken to its
centre the whole fabric of our government first determined to make itself
felt in our political contests, it selected this city for the arena wherein to
plant itself, and from whence to disseminate its pestiferous sentiments.
Then, as now, sir, the conservative Press proclaimed abolition doctrines
treasonable to the union, and aided in driving their advocates from our city.
For this act it was burned by the infatuated fanatics, and its editor compli-
mented with groans ! More recently, anti-rentism raised its hideous head in
this State ; and putting at defiance the law and the very basis of social order
upon which society rests, has not hesitated to resort to murder itself, in sup-
port of its deliberate robberies. Controlling many thousand voters, political
demagogues have been base enough to tamper with the many-headed mon-
ster, baptized, as it is, in the blood of the officers of the law. But the Press
generally, mindful of its duties to the country and to itself, boldly denounced,
as they merited, this band of robbers and murderers ; and, for so doing, one
of its editors was burnt in effigy, with his own paper as a winding-sheet,
amid the fiendish groans of men far more reckless in their character than the
savages they disgraced and dishonored by assuming their garb as a cloak to
their lawlessness. And only three mouths ago, some exiles from the laud of
Cuba, claiming to be republicans and martyrs to liberty, demanded of the
people of America intervention in the affairs of a nation with which we are
at peace, and asked of our people 'MATERIAL AID ' in addition to our ' friendly
sympathy.' The Press of this city, and of the United States generally,
pointed to our laws of neutrality and to the great fundamental principles of
our government which regulate our intercourse with foreign nations, as au
insuperable objection to a compliance with the demand. AVe quoted the
Farewell Address of the immortal Washington as a barrier to any change in
our foreign policy ; while we freely expressed our sympathy with the cause
of freedom throughout the world. But this did not suit the fugitive and exile
from Cuba, — the self-styled martyr in the cause of Republican Liberty, who
was so utterly ignorant of its first principles, that he would have controlled
the liberty of the press, as he controlled his own down-trodden slaves ; and
he appealed from tfie doctrines of Washington, the laws of the land, and the
government itself, to the ' SOVEREIGN PEOPLE! ' And in yonder park, under
your own eyes, Mr. Mayor and President, while your two houses were in
session, gentlemen of the Common Council, he then and there asked for and
received three groans for the Conservative Press from the excited populace
•whom his eloquence had roused to frenzy, and who were persuaded to look
upon him as the Apostle of Liberty."
8

114 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

If General Webb's conduct and observations were regarded
with disfavor by the guests assembled to do honor to Louis
Kossuth, what wonder?

A few days later, Mr. Raymond appeared in a stronger light.
As the speaker assigned to represent the Press in another dem-
onstration in honor of Kossuth, he spoke very eloquently, and
encountered no opposition. The services of the police were
not again called into requisition ; and the ill-mannered rivalry
which had covered Webb with disgrace at the previous dinner
had slunk, abashed, into the background.

On Monday evening, December 15, 1851, the Press of New
York gave a banquet to Kossuth at the Astor House. It was
a splendid affair, and was attended by hundreds of persons
distinguished in literary and journalistic life. William Cullen
Bryant presided, assisted by Horace Greeley, George B. Butler,
and Julius Froebel. Among the guests were George Ban-
croft, Governor Anthony, of Rhode Island, Mayor Kingsland,
Moses H. Grinnell, Charles King, President of Columbia Col-
lege ; Simeon Draper, President of the Board of Ten Govern-
ors ; Parke Godwin, Charles L. Brace, James Harper, John A.
King, and Rev. E. H. Chapin. Among those who sent letters
of regret were Daniel Webster, Alexander H. H. Stuart, John
I. Crittenden, Washington Hunt, Geneval Avezzana, and
others. Speeches were made by Mr. Bryant, Mr. Bancroft,
Kossuth, Charles King, Parke Godwin, Henry Ward Beecher,
and Charles L. Brace.

Mr. Raymond made the principal speech of the evening, in
response to the fourth toast : —

" National Independence — Secured by international love, and not left to the
mercy of the strongest."

Mr. Raymond said : —

" MR. PRESIDENT AND GENTLEMEN : — While I am ready at all times to dis-
charge any duty that may be laid upon me, I must ask permission of you, sir,
and of the honorable Committee of Arrangements, to say that, after the full,
the luxurious, and the satisfactory banquet at which and under which we
have just sat down, the toast you have assigned me is altogether dry.
[Laughter.] The principle which it asserts seems better fitted for Sena-
torial discussion, or for Executive enforcement, than for this occasion. But

KOSSUTH — RAYMOND — WEBB . 115

yet, sir, it should be remembered that this is not simply a convivial occasion.
We are not met here merely for enjoyment or for hospitality. We come here
for a practical business purpose. We are assembled here to-night for the
purpose of extending practical sympathy and effective aid to the cause of
Hungarian independence. [Applause.] Moreover, sir, the Press in this age,
and especially in this country, claims and exercises jurisdiction over every pos-
sible subject of interest or importance to the world. Therefore it is that
even so grave a topic as this should receive consideration even here.

" But certainly, sir, the principle asserted cannot need debate. The very
idea of national existence implies the idea of national sovereignty. It cannot
for a moment be doubted that a crime is committed against public law, when
the constitution or liberty of any nation shall be trodden under foot by des-
potic power. Every one will admit this as an abstract principle. It is only
when we come to a practical application of it that doubts arise and hesita-
tion is feigned. To apply it to this very practical case, — this case which
gives it the only practical importance which it has for us to-night, — does
anybody doubt that Russia committed a crime against public law when she
trod the independence of Hungary to the earth beneath her feet ? " [Responses
of "No ! " " No ! "] "Why, sir, consider what Hungary was. 'No nation on the
face of the earth ever held an independent existence by higher and holier
sanctions than those which guaranteed her rights to Hungary. The Consti-
tution of the United States does not stand xipon a firmer basis, so far as right
and justice are concerned, than did the Constitution and the rights of Hun-
gary. She held them against Austria, not only by immemorial usage — not
only by the solemn compact of treatise — not only by all the sanctions which
eight hundred years of acquiescence could give them; but she held them
by what we Republicans must regard as a still higher sanction, — that of
the will of the people, up to the time when Austria claimed the absolute
subjugation of Hungary, with the right of the people of Hungary to exercise
over their own dominions exclusive and sovereign legislation, they had gone
on exercising the sovereign power which they had thus enjoyed ; they made
laws for their own domestic concerns ; they emancipated the great mass of
the people from the burdens put upon them ; and though the nobles held the
supreme control of the diet, they admitted the serfs to an absolute equality
of political power. That, I venture to say, is an act which stands alone in
the history of nations. It was this very act of extending the political pow-
er, which belonged to them by sovereign right, to the great mass of the peo-
ple, — it was this very act of making their Constitution and legislation demo-
cratic in all its essential features, that brought Austria down upon Hungary,
with all the force of her myriad troops. But that force was not sufficient.
The free spirit of a free people, determined to maintain and assert their
rights, was then, as it always will be, too powerful for the hired minions of
an imperial despot. Hungary had asserted her independent rights against
Austria. She maintained that assertion. She drove the Austrian armies
from her border. She crushed the Bon Jellachich like a flower beneath her
feet; and she would have stood to-day a republic by the side of the United
States but for the gigantic crime against which this toast, to which I stand
here to answer, is meant to protest. Russia, a foreign power having no con-
nection with Hungary, having no claim upon her, having nothing more to do

116 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

with her, so far as right is concerned, than we have with the Khan of Tar-
tary, — Eussia sent her troops into Hungary, and, by mere brute force, trod
her liberties in the dust. And is that no crime ? Is there a heart here to-
night that has one breath to utter in vindication of that act of the Russian
despot ? If there is, then I will argue with him ; if there is not, I shall pro-
ceed to speak of the practical point, — the most important point which can
come up before the people of the United States." [" Hear! Hear! "]

"Is it any part of the duty of the United States to take any concern in the
matter? " [Cries of "Yes ! " " Yes ! "] " Well, sir, that depends entirely upon
the position of the United States, and upon her relations to international law.
and to human rights. If the United States were a despotic power, if they
were thousands of leagues away, and beyond all reach of intelligence from the
scene where these transactions are going on, then they might claim exemp-
tion from the common duty which falls upon them. America is one of the
nations of the earth. To her, as to all other nations, is the guardianship of
international law committed. She cannot suffer that law to be violated, and
to be trampled in the dust, any more than any other nation on the face of the
earth, without weakening her position and her power. She is bound to pro-
test, as a nation can protest, and with all the power of the nation at the back
of that protest, against this violation of international law, — this violation of
international law in Hungary, which may at some time be extended to France,
which has already been extended to Rome, which may be extended to Cuba,
and which, for aught we know, may be extended to the United States. She
is bound to protest, because she has set the examples to Europe, of freedom
and independence. A nation is responsible for its example as well as its
acts ; because that example is among its acts. And now that the down-trod-
den people of Europe are taking an example and drawing confidence from
our success, when they are looking to the heights of political power to which
we have attained, and are sighing for some share of the political freedom
and prosperity which we enjoy, is it for us to say, ' We have nothing to do
with you ; no sympathy with you ; fight your own battles ; we cannot even
think of you ; we are busy with our own concerns' ? " [Cries of " No ! " " No !"]
" Sir, if selfishness or cowardice to that extent has usurped the fountains of
our life, then we are doomed to lose all self-respect, if not to lose all the more
material, but not more important, qualities of national greatness and glory.

" Mr. President, although the occasion invites it, it cannot be necessary,
and I am not sure it will be tolerated for me to enter into an examination of
the reasons which have been offered against obeying this instinctive dictate
of the republican heart of the American people. 'We are bound to neutral-
ity, it is said ; it is our duty to be neutral. We have nothing to do with
the movements of Europe ! ' Do we never hear of Europe ? Have we no
connection with that continent? Has Europe no influence upon us, nor we
upon it ? Then why this movement among the people of Europe ? Why do
they struggle to attain the same heights of freedom which we have for years
enjoyed? Sir, our neutrality enjoins no such indifference to the fate of Europe,
nor to the fate of any other people on the face of the earth. I have been
accustomed, as have many here to-night, to look to the present Secretary of
State as an exponent of constitutional rights and the privileges of the Amer-
ican people." [Here some dissent was manifested, and some one said : — " He

KOSSUTH — RAYMOND — WEBB. 117

is no expounder."] " It is very likely many of you may differ from me in that
opinion, and yet even you will confess that he is good authority when his decis-
ibn jumps with your own. Now, sir, Mr. Webster, iu his great speech upon
the Panama mission in 1825, when this great question of interference with
foreign powers with the rights of the people struggling for independence
arose, then defined what our neutrality meant. ' What do we mean by our
neutral policy? ' said he. ' Not a blind and stupid indifference to whatever is
passing around us, — not a total disregard of approaching events or ap-
proaching evils. Our neutral policy not only justifies, but requires, our anxious
attention to the political events which take place in the world, a skilful per-
ception of their relations to our own concerns, our relations to their conse-
quences, and a firm, timely assertion of what we hold to be our own rights
and our interests.' [Tremendous applause.] That is a definition of neu-
trality which I, for one, am perfectly willing to accept and to apply to the
present occasion. I say our neutrality does not require us to be indifferent to
the struggles of the European people for independence. On the contrary,
it not only justifies, but requires, us to \vatchtheir movements with the closest
attention, and to assert what we believe to be our rights and our interests in
connection with their own.

"But it is said we shall have icar, if we say anything about Russia; that
war is inevitable, and that it will be ruinous. Sir, I have only this answer to
make to that. It is the answer which our commissioners made when the
Holy Alliance was threatening war against us, if we interfered with the re-
volted colonies of Spain : ' It is the interest and prerogative of the United
States to take counsel of their rights and their duties rather than their fears.'
[Great applause.] Any nation that conducts its foreign policy under the
predominating influence of fear of war, or fear of any sort, does not deserve
to have foreign relations at all. [Applause.] Let us take courage, if we
need courage ; let us follow the example, if we need an example, from the con-
duct of the Turkish monarch. [Applause.] When Russia and Austria, lying
upon his borders, with their millions of armies hovering upon his frontiers,
and with their cannon pointed at his capital, demanded that the Sultan
should surrender to them that man who graced that chair to-night, — the
champion of Hungary, the star of our admiration as well as that of his own
people, — what was the reply of that Mahomedau monarch? 'I respect
your power, but I respect the rights of humanity more! Do your worst ; I
shall do my duty, and trust in God.' [Great cheering.] And the mighty
Republic of the West takes counsel of its fears. It prognosticates war in
the assertion of its principles, and in protesting against a crime, against
which humanity from every quarter of the earth protests in the most indig-
nant language which humanity can ever use!

" Sir, this case does not need argument; least of all in this present hour,
when every heart beats with sympathy for every sentiment in favor of Hun-
gary. It needs no argument before the American people. Never was a
cause presented to them which so thoroughly enlisted the sympathy of the
Americans here as that of Hungary. And there are abundant reasons for
this, — reasons which short-sighted, prejudiced, biased observers cannot
perceive; reasons which men used to foreign courts and accustomed to take
their view of such matters from their own whims or their own prejudices,

118 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

cannot appreciate. They are reasons which touch the heart of the Ameri-
can people, and prompt them to warm, earnest, and effective sympathy with
this great cause of independence and liberty. And one cause of that sympa-
thy is the similarity which exists between the commencement of the Hunga-
rian struggle for independence and ours ; in its continuance, its progress,
and its victories, though not, I am sorry to say, in its result. Hungary com-
menced her struggle for independence, not of Austria, but of the despotism
of Austria. She wanted her rights in connection with Austria. We wanted
ours in connection with Great Britain, and, as late as 1774, George Washing-
ton disclaimed, in the most earnest manner, all intention to have a separa-
tion from Great Britain. Yet the fact that Hungary did not strike at once
for independence ; that she did not say, at the very outset, that she would
not be connected with Austria, has been urged as an objection to her con-
duct and her struggle. That is a parallel to our own history, and that very
parallel strikes a chord of sympathetic feeling in every heart. We sympa-
thized with her victories ; we sympathized with her defeat ; we sympathized
with her noble heroes. And greater heroes never trod the earth, or fought
the battles of down-trodden humanity, than those who fought upon Huuga-
rian fields. [Applause.] Our sympathies went with her victorious com-
manders when they drove the Austrian out of their borders, and purged
their country of Austrian despotism. We not only sympathized with Hun-
gary in her late struggle, but ice shall aid Hungary in that struggle which is
yet to come. [Great applause.] Does any man doubt it? Let him take
counsel of his faith in the American people ; of his faith in the principles of
humanity, and in the great foundations of our own government. Let him
feel that here the government must obey the voice of our people [Ap-
plause], and that that voice will be obeyed. I, for one, do not for a moment
doubt. I do not doubt that the government of the United States — the Exec-
utive government — will do what Great Britain did for us in 1823. Then she
invited us when the Holy Alliance called upon her to unite with them against
the revolted colonies of Spain to establish upon the South American shores
the supremacy of legitimacy as the only ground of righful government; then
she invited us to unite in protesting against it, and in protecting the colonies
of Spain from the conspiracy against them. Great Britain then made the
loudest protest any nation can ever make against this contemplated violation
of international law. Let us now ask Great Britain to unite with us in pro-
testing against similar violations of international law still nearer to her own
shores. [Applause.] I do not doubt our government will ask it, because the
voice of the people will demand it, and the government must obey it. [Ap-
plause.] I do not doubt Great Britain will assert it. And, although I know
perfectly well that in 1815, and before that, Great Britain intervened in
France for the express purpose of restoring legitimate authority, yet I feel
perfectly assured that the great majority of the people of that country would
sanction such an intervention no longer. I know it from the English debates
and from the English press, and from expressed opinions in every corner of
the English realm.

" Now I hope our government will make that proposition to Great Britain ;
and instruct our commanders in the Mediterranean to follow up whatever
course Great Britain, in connection with us, may see fit to take. This will

KOSSUTH — RAYMOND — WEBB . 119

preserve the peace of Europe rather than break it. And I find reason for thig
belief in the instance of South American experience. Then the nation of Great
Britain and the United States prevented the alliance from interfering in the
colonies of Spain, and thus prevented war in Europe. That is a fact which
any man acquainted with history knows full well. Spain, Germany, Russia,
Prussia, and all the allied powers were making ready their fleets, — every-
thing was in preparation to commence war upon the revolted colonies of
Spain. We protested, and Great Britain and the United States prevented that
war. [Applause.] And, sir, such a protest from us now must have a similar
effect, unless the power of those despots is greater, or their disposition for
war more eager, than then! And how stands that fact? Any of you who
know the weakness of those powers and the troubles to which they are sub-
jected, — every one of them contriving all the while how to sit on his throne
for a fortnight longer [Laughter] — knows that they are not anxious for a
war. [Applause.]

"Now, sir, I have but very few words more to speak." [Cries of " Go on!
Go on ! "] " The power of public opinion is sadly underrated by the American
people. I cannot find words to express my opinion of the weight of such a
protest, half as strongly as words that were used by our great Secretary of
State at the New Hampshire festival some years ago. He was then speaking
of this very subject, and of the meditated design of the Emperor of Russia to
seize upon Kossuth and his companions in Turkey ; and in denouncing it he
said: 'The lightning has its power, and the whirlwind its power, and the
earthquake its power; but there is something among men more capable of
shaking despotic themes than lightning, or whirlwind, or earthquake, — and
that is the excited and aroused indignation of the whole civilized world.' [Ap-
plause.] I conclude, Mr. President, by giving you a toast, begging pardon
of the assembly, most humbly and earnestly, for the length of time I have
consumed. The sentiment is drawn from our duty to neutrality, and it rests,
too, upon the authority of the same great man from whom I have already
quoted : —

" Our Neutral Policy, as defined by Daniel Webster — A policy that protects
neutrality, that defends neutrality, that takes up arms, if need be, for neu-
trality."

Mr. Raymond resumed his seat amid a storm of applause,
and the assembly rose in a body, and gave him three cheers.

During the remainder of Kossuth's sojourn in the United
States, Mr. Raymond was unwearied in the advocacy of the
Hungarian cause ; and his old antagonist of the Courier and
Enquirer received some heavy blows. The Times finally fixed
upon Webb's paper the title of " The Austrian organ in Wall
Street." It was not inappropriate.

120 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER XIII.

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION.

MR. RAYMOND THE CENTRAL FIGURE OF AN EXCITING SCENE A REMARKABLE

EPISODE IN HIS LIFE HOW HE BECAME A MEMBER OF THE CONVENTION

NORTHERN SUBSERVIENCY AND SOUTHERN ARROGANCE ATTEMPT TO EXPEL

MR. RAYMOND FROM THE CONVENTION A DESPATCH TO JAMES WATSON

WEBB, AND WHAT CAME OF IT A FIERCE DEBATE MR. RAYMOND'S DE-
FENCE — HIS FINAL TRIUMPH.

THE Whig National Convention, which nominated Winfield
Scott for the Presidency of the United States, assembled in
the city of Baltimore on the 16th of June, 1852. Peculiar
circumstances caused Henry J. Raymond to figure prominently
in the proceedings of the body ; and he came out of a fierce
ordeal with great increase of reputation. The incisive part of
his nature had had full play, — and he could cut deeply when
he chose to wield a blade. He had been put upon his mettle ;
and on occasion he could be brave. The Baltimore Conven-
tion gave him his first public opportunity to display these
qualities ; and those who had known him best were surprised
the least when he emerged from the conflict with honor and
renown.

The history of this episode in the life of Mr. Raymond is, in
part, the history of the sectional strife which culminated in
war in 1861. We shall, therefore, give space to a complete
account of it, both as the revelation of some strong points in
the character of Mr. Raymond, and as an illustration of the
feeling which then divided North from South.

The convention was composed of full delegations from every
State in the Union. The number of members was nearly three
hundred; and Gen. John G. Chapman, of Maryland, was the
presiding officer. The candidates for the Presidential office

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 121

were General Scott, Daniel Webster, and Millard Filhnore ;
and so vigorously were the conflicting claims insisted upon by
the delegations committed to each respectively, that it was not
until the convention had been in session for six days, and on
the fifty-third ballot, that General Scott obtained the requisite
number of votes, through defections from the ranks of the
Fillmore men. Webster's friends stood steadily by him, —
their votes numbering thirty-two at the highest, and never fall-
ing below twenty-one. Fillmore fell gradually from one hun-
dred and thirty-three to one hundred and twelve ; and on the
final ballot the vote was: For Scott 159; for Fillmore 112;
for Webster 21. The number necessary to a choice was 147.
One day of the session was wasted on the wrangle over the
case of the Editor of the " Times ; " and in the course of that
wrangle, the southern element in the convention displayed its
arbitrary temper, and received, in return, first, a signal rebuke,
and then a signal defeat.

Mr. Raymond went to Baltimore, to attend the convention,
not as a delegate, but as the correspondent of his own paper.
On the second day of the session, he was requested by the
chairman of the New York delegation to take the place of
Benjamin F. Bruce, one of the two representatives of tho
Twenty-Second Congressional District of New York, who had
been compelled by sudden illness to return home. It subse-
quently appeared that when Mr. Bruce, departed, he had
left, in the hands of the chairman of the New York delegation,
a blank proxy, which had been twice filled with the names of
gentlemen * who declined to act. The chairman then applied to
Mr. Raymond, who gave his consent only after consultation
with the entire New York delegation, and also with the chair-
man of the Committee on Credentials, — Mr Watts, of Virginia.
There was no dissenting voice, and Mr. Raymond then took
his seat as a delegate, with the full consent of the convention.
His colleague was Mr. Richardson.

The immediate cause of the whirlwind of wrath which Mr.
Raymond was fated to encounter, was a telegraphic despatch,

* Ogden Hoffman and George W. Bluut.

122 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

sent by him to the Times on Friday night, June 18th, and pub-
lished with displayed head-lines in that journal on the morning
of the 19th. In this despatch, he intimated that a bargain had
been made by the Northern Whigs, to relinquish a part of the
platform of principles, in order to secure Southern votes for
Scott. The charge was true, for it was the day of Northern
cowardice,* and the South cracked the whip continually. But
Raymond's old enemy, James Watson Webb, was also in at-
tendance upon the convention, and he had an assistant in
the office of the Courier and Enquirer in New York, who took
much pains to send the following despatch to his chief: —

" GENERAL J. WATSON WEBB,

" Care of Moses H. G-rinnell.

" Raymond has telegraphed to, and published in, his paper, that the New
York delegation is indignant at the rejection of their claimants, and that, if
Scott is defeated, they will protest against the action of the convention, and
disavow its binding force.

" These are the exact words. Also, that the Northern Whigs gave way on
the platform, with the understanding that Southern Whigs were to give way
on Scott.

" GEO. H. ANDREWS."

The despatch sent to the Times by Mr. Raymond, and men-
tioned in the foregoing message from Andrews, was as fol-
lows : —

" BALTIMORE, Friday, June 18.

" Six ballots show an average strength of Webster, twenty-nine ; Fillmore,
one hundred and thirty; Scott, one hundred and thirty-three. To-morrow,
it is believed Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia, and one or two others will give
Scott the nomination on the third or fourth ballot. The Northern Whigs
gave way on the platform, with this understanding. If Scott is not nomina-
ted, the}r will charge breach of faith on the South. The Webster men count
on an accession of all the Fillmore votes, and vice versa. Both will probably
be disappointed.

* In the light of subsequent events, it is curious to read, in the Platform
adopted by this convention, such words as these : " The series of acts of the
thirty-second Congress, the Act known as the Fugitive Slave Law included,
are received and acquiesced in by the Whig party of the United States, as a
settlement in principle and substance of the dangerous and exciting ques-
tions which they embrace ; and, so far as they are concerned, we will main-
tain them, and insist upon their strict enforcement," etc., etc. Nine years
later came the shock of civil war, rebellion, and the end of the Fugitive
Slave Law, to which Millard Fillmore was weak enough to put his signature.

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 123

" A very hot discussion was had between Messrs. Choate, Botts, Governor
Jones, and Cabell, mainly personal, and upon Scott's position. Scott was tri-
umphantly defended by Botts against Choate and Cabell.

" The New York delegation are very indignant at the summary ejection of
the New York Scott men, and if Scott is defeated by it, they will protest
against the action of the convention, and disavow its binding force.

" In the Oswego district, Mr. Bruce, one of the two delegates, having gone
home, appointed II. J. Kaymond, of New York, in his place. Mr. Richardson,
his colleague, denied his right to vote ; but the Committee on Credentials
and the convention sustained Raymond's right to act for Bruce, and offset
Richardson's vote, except when they agree, which is not likely too ofteD.

" The weather is cool, and good for active electioneering.

" The Webster men are very active and lavish in canvassing. They will do
their best. Scott's chances are still good."

General Webb — actuated, as Raymond distinctly charged on
the following Monday, partly by motives of personal malig-
nity— immediately placed the "message from Andrews in the
hands of a Southern delegate, and then the long and bitter fight
began.

Mr. Duncan, of Louisiana, rose to a question of personal
privilege and honor. He said : "I have just had placed in my
hands, by a distinguished gentleman from Georgia [Mr. Daw-
son] , because he is a little more hoarse than I am — the paper
which I hold in my hand. If he had not been so enfeebled he
would have felt it to be his duty to present the same thing to
the house and the country. Among other things, it is stated
that the New York delegation are indignant at the rejection of
their claimants, and that, if Scott is defeated by it, they will
protest against the action of the convention, and disavow its
binding force."

Applause and hisses here interrupted the speaker, and also
cries of « Hear him ! " " Order ! " etc.

Mr. Duncan continued, " When my honor is touched, hear
me, and you shall ! " He then read, amid a tremendous uproar,
the despatch from Andrews.

When Mr. Duncan read the signature, various voices asked,
"Who is he?"

Mr. Duncan — "I appeal to every member of the committee
on the Platform, whether there was such an infamous under-
standing as this ? "

124 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Cries — " No ! " " No ! " w No ! "

Mr. Draper said — "Nobody believes it ! "

Great confusion ensued ; many delegates talking, and several
rising to their feet. Several voices cried — " Raymond wrote
it!"

Mr. Duncan — "I don't know who wrote the statement. It is
infamously false ; and, if I knew the author, I would throw it in
his face!"

Governor Johnston, of Pennsylvania, said — "lam well sat-
isfied that there is no person in this convention who is more
deeply sensible of the infliction of an injury on the feelings of
the honorable gentleman from Louisiana than myself. I can
say I was a member of the Committee on the Platform, and that
it is entirety untrue that any proposition was made by southern
or northern gentlemen, or Scott, or Fillmore men, in the form
of a compromise in relation to either of the candidates. I do
not say this because I am a friend of General Scott's, but the
friend of the Whig party." [Applause, and cries of " Good ! "]
" I will say further, there was not in the committee the slightest
exhibition of unkind feeling, — none that could be called un-
pleasant. I appeal to every gentleman on the committee, to say
whether we did not meet as a band of brothers, to compare our
views on various subjects, and construct a platform which the
great national Whig party could stand upon ; and I say now, as I
did not wish to trouble the convention, because in some quar-
ters I may rest under the shadow of a cloud, that if the same
feeling which animated the delegates on that committee had
prevailed in this convention, we should have had no such scenes
as have been exhibited here to-day, and the business which
our credentials sent us here to perform would have been
brought to a conclusion. I have no feelings in relation to the
subject just brought to the notice of this convention. If it
was designed in any form to affect the fortunes of either of the
distinguished gentlemen, Scott or Fillmore, I repudiate it, and
so does every friend of Scott, as unjust to their candidate and
themselves. I don't care who is the author."

A voice — "It is a newspaper article, telegraphed back to
Baltimore."

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 125

Mr. Johnston continued : As the gentleman fronj Louisiana
has said, it is false in all its particulars. I hope that then-
will be a better state of feeling, and I appeal to gentlemen on
both sides, to act as they have heretofore acted, — as brothers
of the same party, and not like those who are hostile to one
another."

Mr. Raymond rose to a question of privilege, amid loud
cries of " Take him out ! " and " Order ! "

Mr. Richardson (Raymond's colleague) was understood to
say : "If you sustain me, I will introduce -a resolution that the
nomination of this convention shall be supported by the whole
of the New York delegation, or faint. I am a good Whig, —
rule me out if you choose, but I beg to be heard. Gentlemen,
in the name of New York, although I *im but one individual
here, I ask that you will give me my rights. I represent the
twenty-second district of New York." [Cries of " Order ! "
and " Go on ! "]

Mr. Richardson — " We sat in union two days, and " —

At this point the confusion became terrific ; delegates in
every part of the hall jumping up, and shouting " Mr. Presi-
dent ! " all wishing to say something. The New York delega-
tion was in a ferment. Many remarks were made ; but what
they were, it was impossible to tell.

Mr. Raymond again rose to a question of privilege and per-
sonal honor, amid deafening cries of " Order ! "

The chairman called to order, but the excitement grew more
intense.

A delegate from Illinois explained that neither Mr. Rich-
ardson nor Mr. Raymond was a regular delegate ; that the
name of the authorized delegate had been stricken out of the
credentials, and the name of Henry J. Raymond inserted ; and
that the name of Mr. Raymond had been interlined in the doc-
ument in a different handwriting from that of Mr. Bruce, who
was the proper delegate. The speaker further contended, that
the committee had no evidence before them that Mr. l>ruce
was authorized, by the district convention which appointed
him a delegate, to appoint a proxy, and therefore they took

126 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

no action jipon said proxy, believing that the question belonged
exclusively to the decision of this convention.

Mr. Watts, of Virginia, said he felt himself called upon,
as chairman of the Committee on Credentials, to make a cor-
rect statement of the pending case ; and, if his power of lan-
guage would sustain him, he would do so. The morning on
which he made his final report to the convention, and while
the committee was engaged at its last sitting, the gentleman
from Louisiana presented the paper just read. He then
learned that on the previous evening, while he (Mr. Watts)
was temporarily absent from the chair, the claim of Mr. Ray-
mond to a seat in the convention was informally acted upon by
the committee, and his name entered on the roll with those of
New York, duly accredited as such. The credential paper
presented by the gentleman from Louisiana was submitted to
the consideration of the committee, and rejected by a vote of
nearly two to one. In the report Mr. Raymond was retained
as a qualified member, and was therefore entitled to his seat.
But, said Mr. Watts, looking behind that report, and regard-
ing the question as an original one, I have said, and repeat
again, that Mr. Raymond is no more entitled to a seat in this
convention, than I am to a seat in the Legislature of Cali-
fornia.

Mr. Vinton said the convention were engaged in executing
the duty of selecting a presidential nominee, and that it was
not in order to proceed with anything else.

This common-sense proposition was finally agreed to, and
the convention resumed its ballotings for the remainder of the
day, without success.

On Monday, June 21, the conflict over Mr. Raymond was
renewed, a formal motion was made for his expulsion from the
convention, and the scene again became tempestuous. After
the journal had been read, and some preliminary business
transacted, and before the balloting began, Mr. R. Renneau,
delegate from the Atlanta district of Georgia, rose to a
question of privilege. He said he held in his hand a news-
paper edited ~by a member of the convention, in which a
charge was made against the honor of other portions of this

THE BALTBIORE CONVENTION. 127

body, which demanded their attention. Three States were
named in that paper, and a specific charge was made against
them of having, by bargain or corruption, endeavored to secure
from the Northern Whigs the adoption of a platform. Those
three States were distinctly named, and then a general charge
of the same character was also brought against all the Southern
States. [Cries of "Read it!" "Read it!" here arose, accom-
panied by calls of " No ! " " No ! " " Order ! " " Ballot ! " etc. , etc. ]
Mr. Renneau continued : "I propose to read that article, and
although I wish to create no disturbance here, and to introduce
no subject which can cause any, I still hope we shall not be
prevented from examining this case a little. Has the day
come, sir, when the representatives of a free people, assembled
in convention, are to be charged with corrupt bargaining and
intrigue, when, if any one of them were guilty of such con-
duct, he ought to be expelled? If any members of the South-
ern delegations have been guilty of it, let them be known, that
they may be branded by their constituents with the infamy
they deserve." [Applause.]

The Chair — " Will the gentleman state his motion " ?

Mr. Renneau — "I understood I had the right to preface my
motion with a few remarks. I will read my resolution. It is
as follows : —

" llliercas, Mr. II. J. Raymond, who holds a seat in this convention, by a
questionable title ; and whereas, he has accused its members of corruption
and foul play ; and whereas it becomes them to disavow these charges most
unequivocally ; therefore, be it

" Resolved, That this convention will show to the country and the Whig
party of the Union its emphatic denial of his imputation on its honor and
sincerity, by depriving said Raymond of his seat, and that the said Raymond
be and he is hereby expelled from this body."

The preamble and resolution were received with applause
and hisses.

Mr. Renneau continued : "I hope, sir, that this entire conven-
tion will look at this resolution according to the merits of the
subject in hand. The delegations from Kentucky, Tenii.
and Virginia, arc specifically named as having entered into a
bargain of this sort. That if the friends of General S< ot«.

128 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

would avow and sustain the Compromise they would then sup-
port Scott. I have great respect for General Scott ; but when
the integrity, honor, and patriotism of the delegates of three
sovereign States are assailed, and held up to the country, and
the delegates of other Southern States, though not specifically
named, I, as a Southern delegate, feel that every delegate of
Georgia, Louisiana, South Carolina, and other Southern States
is charged with foul corruption and intrigue. We are not only
Whigs, but American citizens, and we hold our sound honor
above all other considerations. I do iiot know Mr. Raymond
(having never seen him before I saw him here), except as the
editor of the New York Daily Times; but I never expected he
would make such a charge against any of the delegates. If
this resolution be adopted, I would sympathize with him ; but
I feel it is due to the whole South — to all Whigs — it is due
to all the candidates — it is due to Winfield Scott, that hero of
many a well-fought battle — it is due to Mr. Fillmore — it is
due to Mr. Webster — due to all, that this Mr. Raymond be
expelled, unless he can produce the names of those delegates
who have committed this wrong, and sustain the charges.
[Great applause.] I will read the article."

[Mr. Renneau then read Mr. Raymond's despatch to the
Times; but was frequently interrupted by laughter, and at its
close he was greeted with a general laugh, cheers, and hisses.]

Mr. Renneau continued, by saying that this despatch had been
sent by lightning. Uncle Sam's mail-wagons were too slow
for it. He hoped the convention would take prompt action
upon the subject.

Mr. Cranston, of Rhode Island, rose immediately, and said
that the thermometer was already too high to allow them to go
into an investigation of newspaper paragraphs. He moved to
lay the resolution on the table.

[Cries of « No ! " " No ! " " Shame ! " " Let him be heard ! "
" Raymond ! " "Raymond ! " etc., etc.]

Mr. Raymond appealed to the gentleman from Rhode Island
to withdraw his motion, in order that he might be heard.

Mr. Cranston said he would cheerfully withdraw his motion
for the gentleman to explain, if the matter would stop there but

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 129

it would not, — the whole day would be consumed in debating
this matter.

[Cries — " Never mind ! " " Vote it down ! " ' < He shall be
heard ! " etc., etc.]

The question was then taken, and the motion was rejected by
acclamation.

Mr. Cranston demanded a vote by States upon the motion.

Mr. Botts — " It is too late ; let Mr. Raymond be heard."

The Chair decided that the motion to lay upon the table was
lost, and that the call for a vote by States came too late.

Mr. Raymond then spoke upon the resolution as follows : —

" Profoundly as I regret that anything so comparatively unim-
portant as my personal rights, and my claims to respect from
my fellow-men, should be thrust upon this convention, to the
delay of the important business before it, — every man of honor-
in this convention and out of it will certainly hold me excused
for whatever delay may be necessary to allow me a hearing
upon such a resolution as this. I do not ask you to reject the
resolution ; but I do ask that you give me hearing. When
that is concluded, it will be for the convention to say whether
you reject it or not. To say that I am indifferent to your
action upon it would be to belie the ordinary feelings of human
nature ; but I do say that I consider it infinitely more impor-
tant to myself that I should put myself right before the convcn-
vention, than that I should remain a member of it. All I ask,
is what the great Athenian asked : ' Strike, but hear ! '
[Applause.]

" There are just two points in this resolution to which I shall
direct attention ; and the fir^ is that which naturally comes
first in order, — namely, my right to be here, or to speak here,
at all." [Voices— "Waive that ! " "Skip it !" " We are all satis-
fied about that ! " "Go on ! " etc.] "If I could waive it and leave
my character still sustained, I would gladly pass it without
another word. But the resolution pronounces my right to be
here ' questionable,' and the accusation which that phrase im-
plies has been too widely echoed within my hearing here to
suffer me to pass it without remark. What I have to say,
however, shall be said in the briefest terms.
9

130 HENRY J. RAYMOND ANT) THE NEW YORK PRESS.

"I came to this convention as the Editor of the Daily Times,
and upon business connected with that paper, and not as a dele-
gate. On Thursday morning the second day of the session,
the chairman of the New York delegation informed me that
Mr. Bruce, one of the two delegates from the Twenty-Second
Congressional District, had been compelled by sickness to
leave for home ; that there were two delegates from this dis-
trict, neither of whom could count its vote unless they were
agreed, and that Mr. Bruce had left in his hands a blank proxy
to be filled up with the name of any person whom he might
designate. The blank had been filled. twice already : first with
the name of Ogden Hoffman, and then with that of George W.
Blunt ; but for some reason, to me unknown, both these gen-
tlemen had declined to act, and the chairman asked permis-
sion to insert my name, and that I would act as Mr. Bruce's
substitute. That consent I gave, and the chairman inserted
jny name in that place, where it now stands in his own hand-
writing. Doubting (as I still doubt) the right of either Mr.
Bruce or the chairman thus to fill that vacancy, I submitted
that certificate to ttye New York delegation for their action ;
and as their minutes show, they confirmed the course adopted
by their unanimous vote at one of their regular meetings.
Still doubtful as to the course most proper to be pursued, and
unwilling to exercise any doubtful right, I called your atten-
tion, sir, as the presiding officer of this convention, to the
subject ; and at your suggestion I laid it before the Committee
on Credentials. At a late hour on Thursday night that com-
mittee, as its chairman, Mr. Watts, of Virginia, has already
stated, without even the formality of a vote, and with not a
single dissenting voice, accepted the certificate as sufficient,
and inserted my name in the list of regularly appointed dele-
gates. That list was embodied in the majority report of that
committee, and as such reported to, and endorsed by, this
convention. And now, sir, there is another point to Avhich I
ask attention in connection with this matter. On Saturday,
last, when my right to a seat was called in question, the dele-
gate from Louisiana who filled the place of that State upon the
Committee on Credentials (Mr. J. G. Sevier), rose upon thi?

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 131

floor, in this aisle, and said that he had in his hands a paper
which would put this matter right, and show clearly how the
case stood. It was, he said, signed as the report of a large ma-
jority of the members of that committee ; and it declared
that I had no right — "

Mr. Sevier — " I rise to a question of privilege. I said no
such thing ; and all the newspapers have misrepresented me.
I only said that the paper was signed by a number of the mem-
bers of the committee."

Mr. Raymond — "I repeat, sir, that the delegate from
Louisiana did assert that it was the report of a large majority
of that committee, adopted and signed by them as such. I as-
sert this, sir, from my own distinct recollection, as well as
from other evidence."

Mr. Sevier — "I call the gentleman to order. I said no such
thing."

Mr. Raymond — "I refer, in corroboration of my statement
on this subject, to the plain consideration, that unless the
paper was presented as the report of the majority, the gentle-
man's assertion that it would ' put the matter right ' was an
absurdity ; as it could have no weight at all upon that point.
And I refer to the additional fact that the chairman of the
committee, Mr. Watts, rose immediately afterwards, and said
distinctly, that ' this identical paper, presented by the gentle-
man from Louisiana, instead of being adopted,' as the delegate
from Louisiana had asserted, ' was rejected in committee by a
vote of nearly two to one.' "

Mr. Watts — " Will the gentleman allow me to correct him ?
I did not use the words, 'as the delegate from Louisiana had
asserted.' "

Mr. Raymond — "No, sir; nor do I wish to be understood
as imputing those words to the chairman of the committee.
But he did say that * this report, instead of being adopted, was
presented in committee and rejected; ' and I add, as m}- own
inference, that this language already implies, that the delegate
from Louisiana had asserted that the report was adopted.
And the only object I have, in thus alluding to the matter now,
is to show that in spite of his present denial, the delegate

132 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

from Louisiana (Mr. Sevier) did assert what he knew, and
what was instantly proved to be untrue.

"And now, sir, I come to the second point, — the gist of the
resolution before the convention. The gentleman from Geor-
gia (Mr. Renneau) has laid me under special obligations by
reading the whole of the article in the Daily Times, on the
strength of which it is proposed to expel me from this conven-
tion. I am the more anxious to express to him my thanks for
this, inasmuch as the other gentleman, who figured in this
affair on Saturday, Mr. Duncan, of Louisiana, thought proper
to stop short of this act of simple justice, and to read only so
much of it as promised to answer his special purpose. I de-
sire it to be understood, in the first place, that this matter was
brought to the notice of this convention through the agency of
James Watson Webb, partly for political purposes, and partly
from motives of personal malignity towards me ; so base and
dishonorable in their grounds that he dare not authorize any
one to avow them upon this floor."

Mr. Eenneau — "The despatch was not addressed to Webb.
It was addressed to the Hon. Moses H. Grinnell." [Cries of
« NO ! " " No ! " — " To the care of James Watson Webb."]

Mr. Raymond — "If the gentleman from Louisiana, Mr.
Duncan, by whom that despatch was presented to the House on
Saturday, has it in his possession, he will oblige me by hand-
ing it to me."

Mr. Duncan — " I handed it to the distinguished gentleman
from Georgia (Senator Dawson) , from whom I received it ;
and I regret to learn from him that he has left it at his room.
I believe, however, that it was addressed to James Watson
Webb and Moses II. Grinnell." •

Mr. Grinnell rose, and said that he knew nothing about the
despatch. He had never seen it until it had been shown upon
this floor to a number of persons. It was a matter which he
knew nothing whatever about. The despatch was not ad-
dressed to him.

Mr. Ashmun, of Massachusetts, said that he was, perhaps,
the means of this despatch having at first been brought before
the convention. He saw it in the hands of Mr. Webb, and,

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 133

after reading it, thought its statements so extraordinary that it
ought to be shown to those inculpated in the charge. He hud,
therefore, obtained Mr. Webb's permission to place it in the
hands of Mr. Dawson, of Georgia. As to its subsequent dis-
position, he knew nothing about it.

Mr. Raymond — "Very well. My statement was that the
despatch was addressed to James Watson Webb, and by him
brought to the notice of this convention ; and that, too, from
motives partly political, but mainly of personal malignity
towards me. And that is sustained to the letter."

Mr. Sevier — "I call the gentleman to order. [Hisses and
applause.] We do not sit here for gentlemen to settle their
private differences. [Hisses and cheers.]

Mr. Raymond — "I am aware that this is a matter entirely
personal to Mr. Webb and myself ; and declaring my willing-
ness to meet the responsibility of the issue I have raised with
him, I shall not trouble the convention with any further refer-
ence to it."

The President — " The gentleman from New York will please
to confine himself to the question."

Mr. Raymond — "Certainly, sir; I intend to do so. The
article, of which complaint is made, was published in the Daily
Times of Saturday morning, and was sent from this city at a
late hour on Friday night ; the platform having been adopted
in convention on Friday afternoon. The only part of the de-
spatch which is held up here as involving the damnatory chanro
of bargain and corruption, to which gentlemen on this floor are
so naturally and so justly sensitive, is this : —

" To-morrow, it is believed, Kentucky, Tennessee, Virginia, and one or two
others, will give Scott the nomination on the third or fourth ballot. The
Northern Whigs gave way on the platform with this understanding."

"Now, sir, the only possible way in which the faintest shadow
of excuse can be found or framed for construing this into a
charge of corruption, is by considering the word understanding
to mean bargain. And yet, such a construction of that word,
as used in this connection, is so violent, Bo palpably opposed to
the evident intc'nt and meaning of the paragraph, that even the

134 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

ingenuity and eloquence of the gentleman from Georgia cannot
make it plausible for a single moment. Moreover, sir, even if
the word was susceptible of such a construction, the phrase by
which the whole subject is introduced — ' it is believed ' —
shows clearly that I was not stating a fad, that I was not
asserting, of my own knowledge or upon authority, that any
such bargain was made, or any such understanding had. It is
impossible, sir, for any man of common sense, uninfluenced by
passion, to derive any such meaning from the paragraph, or to
regard it as implicating any man, or any body of men, in any
such charge. And so far as such a charge is concerned ; so
far as the imputation of any such bargain as a matter of fact is
supposed, or suspected to be implied, I wish to relieve it and
myself, and all concerned, from every possible taint, by declar-
ing that no such thought was for an instant present to my mind ;
and that I did not intend to convey any such idea. I disclaim

— I disavow and repudiate, utterly and entirely, in the strong-
est language I can use, all thought or intent of making any
such charge, or imputing any such bargain to any committee,
to any delegation, to any member, or to any man on the face
of the earth. This disclaimer I desire to apply to the whole
paragraph, so far as it has been, or can be, supposed to assert
any matter of fact. The paragraph was simply the expression
of an opinion — formed and expressed for myself, — an opinion
which, whether right or wrong, I had a right to form, and a
right to utter, through any channel open to me, — an opinion
which I believed just then, — and which I believe just now, —
and which, as this convention happens to be open to me now,
I shall not hesitate to reaffirm and proclaim, in all its length
and breadth, at any hazard of dissent, or even of expulsion
on the part of this convention. I asserted then, and assert
now, that in giving way as they did, upon the platform,

— in conceding, as they did to their brethren of the South,
an important position, and which you know, as Avell as I
know, was, and still is, quite as dear to them as your posi-
tion and your principle can be to you, — the northern Whigs
did it in the belief, and with the expectation, that they
would be met in a similar spirit of concession and conciliation

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 135

by the Whigs of the South. They did it with this understand-
ing on their part. And if they had proved to be mistaken, —
if after all that had been done and said and seen in this con-
vention, — if after the South had earned every vote but one
against the North — after the whole business of this conven-
tion had been planned and its whole character shaped by a ma-
jority of States as such, instead of the majority of numbers —
after the important amendment of the gentleman from Pennsyl-
vania (Judge Jessup), securing to the democracy of numbers,
so much distrusted by the senator from Georgia (Judge Daw-
son) , its proper consideration and Aveight, had been carried by
a decisive vote — after the Whigs of the North had voluntarily
receded from this position and surrendered their part which they
had gained, and which was justly theirs — after they had with-
drawn that amendment and handed back the supreme power to
the oligarchy of States for the sole purpose of promoting har-
mony and conciliating their southern brethren, — if after all this
— and especially, if after they had gone still further and con-
ceded the platform dictated by the South, repugnant as it is,
and as you know it is, to their principles and their feelings, —
if after having done all this for the sake of promoting harmony
in the party and securing to it unity of feeling and of action,
you of the South had not met them in a similar spirit, and con-
ceded to them the poor boon of the candidate of their choice,
I tell you no\v, that you would have been exposed to the
charge of bad faith ; you would justly incur the imputation
of demanding for yourselves what you will not concede to
others ; you would have failed in the duty which Whigs of
one section owe to Whigs of every other; — and as one Whig
of the North, at all events, I would charge you here and every-
where with a breach of that 'good faith' which you owe to
us, and which your own honor demands that you should pre-
serve inviolate." [Cheers.] " If that be treason or slander — if
that deserve expulsion — make the most of it !" [Loud cheers
and applause.]

Mr. Duncan — " That may do ; but we want explanations as to
the other part."

Mr. liaymond — "You shall have, sir, whatever you desire ;

136 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

and if you, or any other gentleman, wish for explanations
upon any other point, it shall be forthcoming."

Mr. Cabell, of Florida — "I ask the gentleman to go on Avith
the article, and give us some explanation as to the latter part
of it. He there charges that the New York delegates were
admitted by fraud on the part of this convention ; and says
that if Scott is not nominated, the New York delegation would
repudiate the action of the convention." [Cries of " Oh ! Oh ! " J
"I wish some explanation upon that point."

Mr. Raymond — " You shall have it, sir. But, in the first
place, the assertion that I have charged fraud upon this con-
vention, in the rejection of the New York delegates, is untrue;
and its untruth is so bold and palpable, that the gentleman
from Florida should not have allowed himself to utter it,
especially as the whole article had just been read in his hear-
ing." [Cries of " Order ! " " Order ! " cheers and hisses.]

Mr. Cabell — " Does the gentleman — Sir, I cannot, I shall
not submit to language of this kind." [Cries of " Order !"
cheers, etc.] "Sir, is it possible that such language is to be
indulged in here ? The chair must enforce the rules. But I
ask no protection from this convention ; I can and will protect
myself. I said that I understood that fraud was charged upon
the convention."

Mr. Raymond — "It is not true, sir. No such .charge was
made."

Mr. Cabell — "I ask the gentleman to read it."

Mr. Raymond — " The gentleman can read it for himself, sir.
He might complain of omissions if I were to read it." [Cheers,
etc.]

Mr. Cabell — " Will the gentleman please hand me the paper?"

Mr. Raymond — " There is another copy of the paper in the
gentleman's vicinity of the house. I prefer to retain this in
my own possession." [Cries of " Good ! " " Order ! " cheers, etc.]

The President said he had heard no remark reflecting person-
ally upon Mr. Cabell.

Mr. Cabell — "I am not to be charged by implication with
making a false statement. I did not see the paper; I only
spoke from what I had heard said of its contents."

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 137

Mr. Raymond — " The gentleman said that I had charged
fraud upon this convention in the admission of the New York
delegates. I spoke of this as an untruth, which was the less
excusable, as the paper had just been read. The gentleman
says he will not submit to language of this kind. Permit me
to tell the gentleman from Florida, that when he puts words
into nay mouth which I have not used, for the purpose of
founding an accusation upon me, he will submit to whatever
language I may see fit to use, in repelling his aspersions."
[Loud applause, cheers, cries of "Order !" " Order !" and gen-
eral confusion.]

Mr. Cabell — "I admit, most cheerfully, the right of every
gentleman, when charged with uttering falsehood, to submit or
defend himself. I have already stated that I did not sec the
paper, and that I spoke only of its contents as I had heard
them mentioned. It was on the presumption that the word
fraud was used, that I spoke as I did."

Mr. Raymond — "I accept, as entirely satisfactory, the ex-
planation of the manner in which the gentleman was led into
what seems to have been only a misunderstanding on his part.
But he must allow me to say, that he ought not to interfere in
a controversy in which he -is not personally concerned, without
an accurate understanding of the subject in hand. It will be
noted that the words 'breach of faith' were not used in regard
to the admission of the New York delegates, but of another
subject, which has been already explained."

Mr. Langdon, of Alabama — "Let us hear about the New
York protest."

Mr. Raymond — "In regard to that matter, sir, I am ready to
make just as full explanation as this convention desires to hear.
That is a matter which concerns, in the first place, my own
accuracy in regard to the statement made ; and upon that
point I do not think it worth while to trouble the convention
further ; and in the next place, it concerns the New York dele-
gation alone. I have to say that the delegation took no action,
so far as I know, in regard to that matter. And after this
general statement, if any member of that delegation de-
further remark, he shall have it. If not, I shall relieve the

138 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

convention of any further trouble upon this subject, and leave
them to act at once upon the resolution for my expulsion."

Mr. Williams, of Kentucky, moved to lay. the resolution
upon the table, which was carried by acclamation ; and, so far
as appeared, without opposition.

Mr. Raymond, however, had a habit of finishing any task he
undertook, and in a " Note " to the full report of the debate in
the Times, he finished the controversy and Mr. George H.
Andrews, in the following fashion : —

" Mr. Andrews, in his anxiety to give the ' exact words,' entirely omits the
very important words, 'To-morrow, it is believed,' which plainly show that our
publication did not intend to assert any negotiation, or arrangement, or
agreement whatever, but simply an expectation, founded on a supposed spirit
of conciliation. And he also omits the important words ' BY IT,' which give
the whole character to our remark about the indignation of Xew York Scott
men at the rejection of their delegates. If the nomination of Scott had been
defeated by that extraordinary rejection, their indignation should have been
as lasting as it was just."

Considered in all its aspects, the result of this conflict was a
decided triumph for Mr. Raymond. The warfare upon him
originated in a difference of opinion between himself and James
Watson Webb on the question of slavery ; but Raymond be-
came a leader of the Free Soil party, and Webb's influence
rapidly waned. The " personal malignity," to which Raymond
was subjected, followed him to Baltimore, and produced a tre-
mendous explosion ; but he escaped injury. In his person,
the South attacked free institutions ; but the South was defeated.
He was put upon his mettle, at a time when to be an "Aboli-
tionist " was to encounter obloquy and danger ; but he dis-
played ability and courage which bore down the enemies
arrayed against him. He was pitted against the trained and
polished debaters of the South ; but he proved himself their
master in the skill of fence. As an editor, also, he displayed
the quick perception, the correct judgment, and the careful
precision, which are the qualities most essential to the con-
ductor of a public journal ; and his combat was a great help to
the Times.

Colonel T. B. Thorpe, of New York, has written a lively

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 139

account of the scene in the convention, derived from the person-
al observation of a Southern delegate. It is worth preservation.

" ' In the year 1853,' writes Colonel Thorpe,* ' I was paying a visit to Judge
John Moore at his house, in the parish of St. Mary, Louisiana. The Judge
was a pioneer of the State, one of the most substantial citizens, an ex-mem-
ber of Congress, and an ardent admirer of Mr. Clay. Among many subjects
discussed during the evening was that of the personal and moral courage of
Northern and Southern men ; and the Judge illustrated his conversation with
many anecdotes of desperate encounters whieh had occurred under his obser-
vation, including duels and rough fights, the result of s.udden unbridled pas-
sion. Perceiving that I was interested, he gave me the details of several
flghts of desperadoes, and of the coolness displayed by refined gentlemen on
the "field of honor," his heroes being, without an exception, "Southern
men."

" 'But,' said he, finally, evidently intending to end the conversation so far
as the unpleasant subject under consideration was concerned, — 'the first
perfect specimen of real, genuine courage I ever witnessed was displayed by
a Northern man last year at the Baltimore Whig Convention. This man,
strange as it may appear, was a Yankee, of rather small stature, college-bred,
and of a high intellectual character; and this man showed more true courage
— moral and physical — than I ever witnessed elsewhere in all my experi-
ence.'

" With a great deal of curiosity, I asked who the person was. He replied,
' A young man attached to the New York press, and identified, I understood,
with Greeley and the ultra-Abolitionists. lie came to the convention as re-
porter, but it was proposed to make him a member to fill an unexpected va-
cancy, and the majority of our (Southern) members took umbrage at it and
determined to keep him out. I did not approve of the intention, nor the
manner in which it was to be done ; but I was powerless to oppose, and so
said nothing about it, presuming from the obnoxious gentleman's appearance
that a few words of objection would put an end to the proposition. When
the proper time came, a motion was made to admit the gentleman a member
of the convention; and I was myself surprised at the opposition the motion
called forth, — it acted like a spark of fire on a body of tinder. Cabell, of
Florida, a veteran debater, distinguished for his reckless physical courage
and sharp tongue, had volunteered to make a speech against " the Abolition-
ist," and he opened with a degree of bitterness that was unparalleled in any
body governed by padimeutary rules, and he was in the mean time supported
and cheered on i>\ apparently a large majority of the house. The gentleman
assailed, who had an almost boyish appearance, kept his feet (for Cabell spoke
against his having the privilege of a personal defence), and with fixed eye
watched the Floridian as he went on with his unqualified denunciations, made
up almost entirely of personalities. Several gentlemen sprang to their feet,
intending to enter the fight, but the more they looked at the object of the
attack the more he appeared capable of taking care of himself. Two or thr--;1
times Cabell stopped, perfectly infuriated at the unexpected cooliu-.-

* In a letter to the New York Evening Mail.

140 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

self-possession of his supposed victim, but the moment he commenced his
defence, Cabell would begin again, each time egged on by those who
sympathized with his intention, namely, to put " the Abolitionist down." This
struggle continued for nearly three long hours, but when it did end, the as-
sailed had the attention of the convention. His calmness, self-possession,
and patience were eloquent in his behalf, and many of Cabell's warmest sup-
porters at first, while they admitted that all he (Cabell) had said was true,
still they contended that the assailed man was entitled to a hearing.

'"At last, the then (except iu his own locality) unknown Henry J. Ray-
mond commenced a defence of his position, and satisfied, in a few moments,
every logical mind within his hearing of the propriety of his right to the seat
made vacant by the unavoidable absence of Gen. Bruce. Had he stopped
here, his political status would have been secured; but he demanded more
than this. Changing his voice, and turning upon Cabell, he opened upon that
gentleman with a speech that was full of argument, wit, and burning sarcasm.
He denounced what he called the fashion of certain Southern men to bully
Northern representatives in Congress and in national conventions, carrying
their points by overbearing insolence and threats of personal injury. He
shook his finger at Cabell, and said that he defied this cowardly and unmanly
practice, and that he had determined for all time to yield everything to cour-
tesy, reason, and brotherhood, but nothing to threats or intimidation. He
then turned upon the North, and demanded to know why its public men were
so frequently put in a false position by allowing themselves to be crowded to
the wall by such creatures as the man who had that day assailed him, and
through him the free state of sentiment of the entire country.'

" The Judge said the speech annihilated Cabell, not only in the convention,
but he never got rid of its damaging effects when he got home. This display,
concluded the Judge, who could command no language to do his feelings jus-
tice, ' was the finest specimen of the true, moral, and physical courage I ever
witnessed,' and he added : ' when all Northern public men take this young
Raymond's position, it will be better for the North, the South, and the coun-
try at large, and we will add, that, if they had done so, slavery would have
been extinguished upon the field of the forum, instead of the battle-field, —
reason, and not the sword, would have decided the conflict.' "

Another interesting reminiscence was published in the Al-
bany Evening Journal after the death of Mr. Raymond, and
from this account also we transcribe a few passages : —

"During the progress of the convention — which was divided up into
Scott, Fillmore and Webster factions — the Scott men found themselves with-
out a ready debater, able to cope with the trained experts from the South,
who, as usual, were provokiugly insolent and overbearing. To meet this de-
ficiency, it was arranged that Mr. Raymond should take the seat occupied by
General Bruce. This proposition met with opposition, and the excitement
was intensified when, subsequently, it was seriously proposed to expel him
from the body. On this impudent proposition, and others of kindred spirit,
Mr. Raymond bore himself with becoming calmness and dignity. But his real

THE BALTIMORE CONVENTION. 141

power and fearlessness were most conspicuously developed at a later stage of
the proceedings, when he was personally arraigned for a statement embodied
in a telegram which he had sent to the Times. Mr. Cabell, a ready debater
from the State of Florida, was his chief assailant. His manner was of the
highest type of Southern insolence. Mr. Raymond responded with a dignity
and firmness which excited the admiration of his friends, and greatly pro-
voked the pro-slavery delegates. His calm demeanor was met by bluster and
threats ; but he held his ground unmoved, meeting every argument with irre-
sistible and overwhelming logic, and every threat with a calm defiance,
•wholly new to the ' chivalry,' but which foreshadowed the inflexible resolu-
tion, courage, and purpose, which found full and triumphant development in
after years. His bearing seemed to those who witnessed it, and who were in
sympathy with him, not merely grand, but sublime. It excited the intensest
enthusiasm ; and when the excitement was at its highest, if any Southern bra-
vado had so much as lifted his finger in violence, the physical strength as
well as the moral courage of the representatives of the North would have
been made fearfully manifest.

"Fortunately, whatever may have been their original purpose, the Southern
delegates and their boisterous claquers confined their demonstrations to
words and hisses; and, after a protracted and stormy discussion, Mr. Ray-
mond achieved the victory and the 'chivalry' met with their first serious
defeat in a National Whig Convention.

" It is only by the light of all that has since transpired that we can appre-
ciate the significance of what was said and done upon that occasion. From
that hour the Whig Party assumed a new character, and its representatives
(with a few disgraceful exceptions) a bolder attitude in the press, on the
stump, and in the halls of legislation. Mr. Raymond's clarion voice, upou
that memorable occasion, sounded the opening notes in the death-knell of
slavery, and definitely initiated the movement which has ulti mated in the
complete triumph of the principles for which he then so fearlessly and so
eloquently contended.

" We revive this incident, not merely to do honor to the memory of the la-
mented dead, but to remind the living that courage was as necessary to throw
off the influence of the slave power in our political national COUIK .Is, as it
was to overcome its physical prowess upon the battle-fleld. And to further
remind those who are all too willing to forget, that equal honors are due to
the heroic men who began the struggle against slavery, while it was in the
full vigor of lusty life, as to those who had the fortune and the honor to
strike the blow which effected its overthrow and death."

142 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTEE XIV.

THE TIMES IMPROVED, AND RAYMOND ELECTED LIEUTENANT-
GOVERNOR.

HAYMOND'S RESOLUTION TO DEVOTE HIS LIFE TO JOURN ALISM — NETV WRITERS
ENGAGED FOR THE TIMES — CHARLES C. B. SEYMOUR — FITZ-JAMES O'BRIEN
DR. TUTUILL CHARLES WELDEN CHARLES F. BRIGGS, HDRLBUT, GOD-
KIN, SEWELL AND DE CORDOVA RAYMOND AGAIN IN POLITICS — ELECTED

LIEUTENANT-GOVERNOR — ADDRESS AS PRESIDENT OF THE STATE SENATE —
DECLINES THE DOMINATION FOR GOVERNOR.

TWICE a champion, — the champion of Hungary against its
enemies in the American Press, and of Freedom against the as-
saults of the Slave Power in a National Convention, — Mr.
Raymond had now became widely known beyond the limits of
his profession. He had proved his readiness and skill in public
debate ; he had shown his antagonists that, in a fair field and
with open lists, he could wield a lance as bravely as the best,
and strike with the strongest ; he had convinced his profes-
sional rivals that he was able to hold his own. But the Times
needed his care, and to it he determined to devote his time',
his energy, and his skill.

Mr. Raymond said to the writer, and to others, in the year
1852, that he had fully resolved to abandon political life, for
the broader and better field of Journalism ; believing the of-
fice of an Editor to be more honorable and more influential than
any place which could be bestowed by party. For two years
he adhered strictly to this resolution. It was the great mis-
fortune of his life that he afterwards yielded to seductive temp-
tation ; forgetting his earlier and better purpose in the pursuit
of political preferment. Had Raymond remained a journalist,
untouched by the corrupting influences of party chicanery, and
unsullied by evil association, the record of his life would have
had no deep shadows.

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THE TIMES IMPROVED, ETC. 143

In 1852, the space added to the Times, by doubling its size,
gave Mr. Raymond ample opportunity to make a good news-
paper. Some of the best writers of the day became regular
contributors ; bright wits sent sparkling papers ; new men
were introduced into the staff of editors ; cost was not counted
when a good article was to be secured ; and the Times became
the best family paper ever published in New York. Four
writers, whose productions appeared regularly in the columns of
the Times, in the course of this second year, are now dead ; but
their effusions live, and, if collected and edited, they would form
an interesting volume. One of these contributors was Charles
C. B. Seymour, — a young Englishman, who was subsequently
the musical and dramatic critic of the Times, and died while
holding that position. Another was Fitz- James O'Brien, an
Irishman who was absurdly ashamed of his Irish birth, but who
was one of the most brilliant of all the brilliant brotherhood of
the Bohemians of New York at that day. He was killed in
Virginia in the first year of the Civil War, while acting as aide-
de-camp to the late General Lander. Another was Dr. Frank
Tuthill, a Long Island man, from the "East End," who had
taken up his residence in New York to practise medicine, and,
while waiting for patients who did not come, amused his leisure
by writing quaint papers on rural and domestic topics for the
Times. The vein of quiet humor and the uniform good sense
which characterized these productions especially attracted Ray-
mond's attention. An offer of an editorial position in the
Times office was soon made to Dr. Tuthill, and accepted. He
remained in the service of the paper for several years, and
then went to California, by invitation of Mr. Simonton, to take
charge of the San Francisco Bulletin. Subsequently he be-
came proprietor of a part of the Bulletin, but ill-health com-
pelled him to relinquish his duties. After a brief visit to the
South of Europe, he returned to New York, and died soon
afterwards in Brooklyn. The fourth, Charles "\Velden, wrote a
series of charming papers, under the name of ''The City Hall
Bell-Ringer," which were remarkable for their play of ploa--
ant fancy and the piquancy of their style. Wclden died
suddenly a few years ago.

144 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Later, Charles F. Briggs, well known as ." Harry Franco,"
joined the Times, and with him were associated William
Henry Hurlburt, E. L. Godkin, and William G. Sewell. Mr.
Sewell was the author of the excellent book entitled " The
Ordeal of Free Labor in the West Indies." R. J. De Cordova,
since a popular lecturer on humorous subjects, was also en-
gaged upon the paper for a short time ; and Mr. Edward
Seymour and others were added to the editorial force from
time to time.* Down to the year 1857, few who had been
employed by Raymond yielded to any temptations to leave his
service; and continual additions were made. Since that date,
many changes have occurred, of which this is not the place to
speak.

In 1854, Raymond again lapsed into politics. For a time, the
agitation which followed the passage of the Nebraska-Kansas
bill by Congress had enlisted only the pen which directed the
course of the Times; but the party with which Raymond
acted soon clamorously demanded his personal services. His
political ambition was again aroused, and, in the summer of
18j54, he took his seat in the Anti-Nebraska State Convention,
at Saratoga Springs, as a delegate from the district which he
had already twice represented in the Assembly.

Th~e action of the Saratoga Convention was not final. Much
was left to be decided by circumstances ; and the events of the
campaign led to the calling of an Anti-Nebraska Nominat-
ing Convention, which met at Auburn a few weeks later. The
regular Whig State Convention, however, had met in the inter-
val between the conventions at Saratoga and Auburn, and had
unanimously nominated Myron H. Clark for governor, and Mr.
Raymond for lieutenant-governor. The Anti-Nebraska Con-
vention accepted these nominations ; and the State Temper-
ance Convention immediately afterwards pursued a similar
course. Mr. Raymond was therefore again launched into
political life ; and, strengthened by three separate and unani-

* A singular fatality seems to have attended the men who were identified
with the earliest history of the Times. Of the whole number, Raymond and
Seymour and O'Brien, Palmer and Tuthill, Welden and Sewell, have do-
parted ; — seven in all. All, too, died young.

THE TIMES IMPROVED, ETC. 145

mous nominations, he saw that his election to office had once
more been secured. He accepted, and was elected by a hand-
some majority over his Democratic and " Native American "
opponents. The " Know Nothing " candidate for the lieuten-
ant-governorship, beaten by Mr. Eaymond, was General Gus-
tavus Adolphus Scroggs. Raymond's vote in the State ex-
ceeded that given for Clark, the successful candidate for the
governorship. Raymond received 157,079 votes ; and Clark,
156,770. Raymond thus ran ahead of his ticket by 309 votes.
The contest, however, was close ; Clark obtaining a majority
of only 313 over Horatio Seymour.

In January, 1855, at the opening of the session of the new
Legislature, Mr. Raymond took his seat as presiding officer of
the State Senate, and delivered the following brief address : —

"SENATORS: — In the discharge of the constitutional functions of the office
to which I have been elected, I am present to preside over the deliberations
of this branch of the State Legislature. I am profoundly sensible of the dig-
nity and responsibility of the position I am called to fill, and of the extent
to which I shall need your indulgence in the execution of its trusts. My
task will not be difficult; for it is only to direct your attention to the provi-
sions of those rules which you will adopt for your own government in the
prosecution of your labors. I shall endeavor to secure the practical applica-
tion of these rules with promptitude, with exactness, and with entire impar-
tiality. I solicit, senators, your generous confidence in the sincerity and
uprightness of my intentions, your aid in the performance of my duties, and
your kind consideration to the errors I may commit.

" The Senate is now in order for the transaction of business."

At the end of the session he returned to New York, to re-
sume the charge of the Times. His term of office as Lieuten-
ant-Governor expired in 1857 ; but in the interval he had de-
clined a nomination for the governorship of New York, and
had become celebrated for his participation in national affairs.

In August, 1856, Senator E. M. Madden addressed to Mr.
Raymond a letter, requesting permission to present his name
to the convention which was to meet in the following Septem-
ber, for the nomination for Governor. Mr. Raymond sent this
reply : —

" NEW YORK, Sunday, Aug. 30, 1856.

"MY DEAR MADDEN: — I am under great obligations to you for the very
kind manner in which you speak of me in your favor of the 28th, which I
10

146 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

have just received, and feel highly complimented by its expressions of politi-
cal partiality.

" I shall not affect any distaste for the honors, the associations, and the
duties of public life, nor deprecate the opportunities it affords for promoting
cherished principles and advancing measures deemed essential for the public
good. Like all other spheres of useful labor, it has its drawbacks ; but, in
spite of them all, it has attractions to which few are insensible.

" The prospect, moreover, of renewing for another year the acquaintances
and associations in the Senate, which I found so agreeable last winter, would,
of itself, be for me a strong inducement for desiring a re-election to my pres-
ent office. But other considerations — personal, domestic, and professional
— outweigh even this, and constrain me to decline being a candidate, under
any circumstances, for any official position whatever in the coming canvass.

"Even if I had no other reason for this determination, I should find a suffi-
cient motive in the desire to remove whatever obstacle even my name might
offer to the perfect harmony of the movement against the aggressions and
usurpations of slavery. Nothing can be nobler than the courage and inde-
pendence with which your old associates in the Democratic ranks are break-
ing the bonds which that interest fastened upon the party at Cincinnati. They
are proving themselves disciples of Jefferson, by acting in defiance of party
ties, upon the principles which he professed. I am confident that they will
far outweigh in numbers, as in influence, those old Whigs whose subservience
to slavery destroyed the party with which they were formerly allied, as it
will that which has now adopted them for its leaders.

"We have been fortunate even beyond expectation in a candidate for the
Presidency. I trust that we shall be equally wise and equally fortunate iu
selecting for the State officers to be chosen this fall, men of high character,
firm principles, and a strong hold on the confidence and respect of the whole
community.

" I am, very truly, your friend and servant,

"HENRY J. RAYMOND.

"HON. E. M. MADDEN."

The history of the Pittsburg Convention of 1856, and of the
share taken by Mr. Raymond in the formal organization of the
Republican party in the United States, is narrated in the ensu-
ing chapter.

BIRTH OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY, ETC. 147

CHAPTEE XV.

BIRTH OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY — THE PITTSBURG CONVEN-
TION.

THE FREE-SOIL STRUGGLE — ORIGIN OF THE CONTENTION IN PITTSBURG IN 1856

PRELIMINARY ACTION — THE NEW PARTY AN ADDRESS TO THE PEOPLE

OF THE UNITED STATES SUBMITTED BY MR. RAYMOND ITS ADOPTION THE

PRESIDENTIAL CONTEST — FREMONT DEFEATED — RAYMOND'S DISCUSSION
WITH LUCIEN B. CHASE.

THE Republican party of the United States was born at
Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, in February, 1856. Its godfather was
Henry J. Raymond, — for the Address to the People which
defined the purpose of the new organization, and established
the foundations of the party, was his work ; and the fact is val-
uable to history. The Republican party was the culmination
of the long and bitter struggle of the Free-Soilers against the
encroachments of the Slave Power. The agitation begun I>y
William Lloyd Garrison a generation before, widening in its
reach until it had spread from Massachusetts through the whole
of the North, had touched the springs of national legislation,
had convulsed the Union, had maddened the South, and had
drenched the soil of Kansas with blood. The issue had at last
been fairly made, and the struggle for absolute mastery had
begun. Raymond was one of the earliest to see that the time
was ripe for a decided expression by the Free States ; that a
now political party, pledged to the maintenance of territorial
rights, but not identified with the so-called" Abolitionism " of
the day, would gather to it elements of strength. The Kansas
feud had aroused a bitter feeling, for which the South had only
itself to blame. The Free-Soil men planted themselves firmly
upon the ground of equal rights in all the territories of the
United States, and the scenes of violence enacted upon the

148 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

border fired them to zeal and courage. Out of this feeling grew
the reaction which found tangible form and adequate expression
in the action of the Pittsburg Convention of 1856.

The " Pittsburg Address " is reproduced entire in the Appen-
dix to this volume,* because it is the history of a remarkable
movement, — a movement that resulted in the establishment of
the great party which twice elected Lincoln, which fought the
"War for Freedom to a successful termination, and which placed
Grant, the hero of the conflict, in the Presidential chair. The
convention met in Pittsburg on Washington's Birthday. Its
function was formative — not final. The delegates who took
their seats at the opening of the proceedings had not assembled
from all parts of the Free States to nominate a candidate for the
Presidency ; but to consult together as to the best methods of
practical organization. The choice of a standard-bearer was left
to another convention, which was finally appointed to be held
in Philadelphia in the following June. The basis of action for
the nominating convention, as well as for the new party and
all its members, was defined, sharply and logically, in the Ad-
dress submitted by Mr. Raymond.

The Address opened with a statement that the convention
was composed of representatives of the people in various sec-
tions of the Union, who had assembled to consult upon the
political evils by which the country was menaced, and the
political action by which those evils might be averted. It then
declared the fixed and unalterable devotion of all the dele-
gates, then and there assembled, to the Constitution of the
United States, and the ends for which it was established, and
to the means by which it provided for their attainment. It
also avowed an ardent and unshaken attachment to the Union,
and abjured all prejudices of geographical division, local inter-
est, or narrow and sectional feeling ; but insisted upon the
right of all the people to the inheritance of equal rights, priv-
ileges, and liberties. Holding these opinions, and animated by
these sentiments, the convention, adopting the Address, de-
clared its conviction that the government of the United States

* See Appendix B.

BIRTH OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY, ETC. 149

was not at that time administered in accordance with the Con-
stitution, nor for the preservation or prosperity of the Union ;
but that its powers were systematically wielded for the promo-
tion and extension of the interests of Slavery, in direct hos-
tility to the letter and spirit of the Constitution, in flagrant dis-
regard of other great interests of the country, and in open
contempt of the public sentiment of the American people and
of -the Christian world.

Then, in an orderly and temperate style, the specifications
of these grave charges were set forth. The points considered
were : First, an historical outline of the progress of Slavery
towards ascendency in the Federal Government ; second, the
sentiments of the Constitution concerning Slavery ; third, a
full history of the Missouri Compromise ; fourth, the story of
the Annexation of Texas and the War with Mexico ; fifth, the
repeal of the Missouri Compromise ; sixth, the invasion of Kan-
sas by the South, and the action of the General Government ;
seventh, the pleas urged in defence of the aggressions of
Slavery, and the argument that the Missouri Compromise was
not a compact, and that Congress had no power to prohibit
Slavery in the territories.

One demand and three positive declarations concluded the
Address.

The demand was for the repeal of all laws permitting the
introduction of slaves into territories once consecrated to free-
dom. The declarations were : —

First: A determination to resist, by every constitutional
means, the existence of Slavery in any part of the territories
of the United States.

Second: To support the people of Kansas in their resistance
to the usurped authority of their lawless invaders, and to favor
the admission of Kansas as a State of the Union.

Third: To overturn the existing party in power, which had
proved \\eak and faithless.

The convention then set in motion the machinery of a per-
fect organization, issued a call for a nominating convention to
meet in Philadelphia, and adjourned. In June, the Philadel-
phia convention nominated John C. Fremont as the first eandi-

150 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

date of the Republican party for the Presidency — and the
new era in American politics began. The war that ensued was
fierce. The gauntlet had been thrown ; the defiance was
accepted. Thenceforth, until the end of the Civil War in the
spring of 1865, bitter feelings were to be intensified, sectional
animosities were to grow, blood was to flow ; but Freedom
triumphed, and Slavery died. The campaign of 1856 was a
triangular fight. The Democrats of North and South united
upon James Buchanan ; the discontented Whigs, who could
not overcome their servility to the Slave Power sufficiently to
become Republicans, concurred with the "American" party in
the nomination of Millard Fillinore. Fremont was beaten in
the election, and no other result was expected ; but the party
which supported him developed a degree of strength which
occasioned surprise even among the most sanguine of those who
had participated in the proceedings at Pittsburg. Eleven free
States cast their electoral votes — 114 in all — for Fremont;
Buchanan obtained 172 electoral votes, including those of all
the Slave States except Maryland, and those of five Free States :
namely, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Indiana, Illinois, and Cal-
ifornia. Had Pennsylvania and Illinois cast their votes for
Fremont, they would have given him the election. Millard
Fillinore received the electoral vote of Maryland only.

The lines were strongly drawn, and the contest was well-
fought by the new Republican party, as well as by its oppo-
nents. Mr. Raymond took an active part in the canvass, and
his public discussion with Lucien Bonaparte Chase, in the
Broadway Tabernacle in New York, especially attracted atten-
tion. This discussion was begun at the Brooklyn Museum, on
the llth of October, 1856, and resumed on the evening of the
20th of the same month, in the Broadway Tabernacle, before
an immense audience. Mr. Chase, a Tennesseean, represented
the South ; Mr. Raymond defended the North. The chairman
(Mr. S. P. Russell, a Democrat) announced that Mr. Ray-
mond was to be allotted an hour to open the debate, and that
Mr. Chase was to be given an hour and a half in which to
reply. Mr. Raymond was then to rejoin for half an hour.

Mr. Raymond was vehemently cheered on coining forward.

BIRTH OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY, ETC. 151

He announced his intention to submit to the criticism of hi-
friend Mr. Chase, and the audience, some of the reasons
which induced him to believe that it would not be for the in-
terest of the common country, to elect James Buchanan 1're-i-
dent . He desired to say, in the first place, that he had nothing
to say against Mr. Buchanan personally ; and then proceeded
to criticise, in caustic terms, the Cincinnati platform, upon
which Buchanan stood : a platform pledged to extend human
Slavery over all the territories of the United States. Ray-
mond then recited the history of the pro-slavery party, from
the days of Washington down to the time of Pierce, and
pointed to the baneful effects of Slavery, closing with these
words : —

"The Southern States, with a population only half that of
the Free States, wielded the whole power of the government.
They had a majority in the Senate, and thus controlled the
treaty-making power. The fact that property was represented
in the South, and not in the North, gave them twenty-five to
thirty of a representation in the House of Representative-,
more than they would be otherwise entitled to. Their policy
now was to acquire an absolute ascendency in the Congress of
the United States, and thus wield all the powers of the gov-
ernment for the benefit of their interest alone, regardless of
the other great interests of the country. And was this right?
Was this just? Was this what the freemen of America ought
to consider as a desirable fate for their common country, in
the days that were to come? [Cries of 'No ! No !'] This same
project of extending Slavery was not a matter of accident. In
the South they were now vimlicat ins; Slavery upon principle.
It was the only ground they could consistently take upon the
Kansas question, for if it were not claimed for Slavery that it
was a legitimate moral institution, they could not have the
aouranee to demand its extension into the territories. The
ground taken by all the Southern Democratic supporters of
James Buchanan was, that thi- was a contest between capital
and labor. The question then wa<, whether labor should be
independent of, or the servant and slave of, capital : whether

152 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

capital should own labor, or the laborers should stand by them-
selves, independent of it, making their own terms with it,
consulting their own interest in it, building themselves up by
the side of capital, and making labor what John C. Fremont
called it, — ' the natural capital of a free country.' [Ap-
plause.] Now, if we were to extend Slavery into Kansas, we
must extend it, with all the social and all the moral influences
that attend it everywhere ; and were those such as to recom-
mend it to the favor of a free Christian community ? Its rela-
tions to freedom of speech and of the press afforded a suffi-
cient answer. Whether they were satisfied to aid in extending
it over our common country was the question which he now
left to the criticisms of his opponent, and to their own judg-
ment."

Mr. Chase followed in reply. He said that the speech of his
opponent had proved, if proof was wanting, that the Republi-
can party was a sectional party. It had been claimed, he said,
by the Republicans, that Slavery had been, and was now,
aggressive ; that it was the controlling power of the General
Government. If they would set aside the first five Presidents,
they would find that the North had had four Presidents and
the South three. Count General Taylor, and it would stand
from the South five ; from the North two. Then there were
two hundred and fifty heads of departments at Washington,
and one-half of that number were from the Northern States.
To the charge that the Slave Power was aggressive, he would
further say, in refutation, that when the Constitution was
adopted, nearly every State held slaves, and now Freedom
holds full two-thirds of the land. He then took up the thread
of Mr. Raymond's argument and reviewed it in detail to prove
that he had erred on many important points.

Mr. Raymond closed the discussion with a rejoinder which
was remarkable for logical reasoning and for its fair state-
ment of the issues of the campaign ; and on resuming his seat
he was greeted with enthusiastic cheers.

This discussion added to the political reputation Mr. Ray-
mond had obtained, and was not without an influence upon the

BIRTH OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY, ETC. 153

canvass. Fremont was defeated ; but his defeat was almost a
victory. Four years later, the Republican party elected Abra-
ham Lincoln to the Presidency ; and for eight years it fought
the battle of Freedom, — first with the ballot, and then with the
bullet.

154 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER XVI.

THE TIMES ENLARGING ITS BOUNDARIES.

THE OLD BRICK CHURCH PROPERTY IN NEW YORK — OLD KNICKERBOCKERS' RE3I-
INISCENCES AND REGRETS — A LARGE PURCHASE FOR THE TIMES IN THE PANIC
YEAR THE WONDER OF THE DAY IN NEW YORK — UNHEARD-OF EXTRAVA-
GANCE HOW THE OLD NEWSPAPERS HAD BEEN HOUSED DINGINESS AND

DECAY — THE NEW ORDER OF THINGS — VISITORS THRONGING THE TIMES
OFFICE — FULL DESCRIPTION OF THE BUILDING.

IN the " Panic Year," an old landmark in New York was de-
stroyed, to give place to the handsome range of stone build-
ings now known as the " Times Block." The triangular space,
bounded on the south by Beekman Street, on the east by Nas-
sau Street, and on the west by Park Row, had long been oc-
cupied by the " Old Brick Church," — a noted Presbyterian
place of worship, under the pastoral care of the Reverend
Gardiner Spring. This church, with its ancient vaults, its
musty Chapel, and its mouldering memories, had become sacred
in the eyes of the sturdy old Knickerbockers, whose fathers
had found spiritual consolation within its walls. The tender
reminiscences which clustered about it were reminiscences of
the days when green fields stretched away on either hand,
when the bulk of the city's population led a quiet and happy
life at the lower end of the Island of Manhattan, when the
Battery was the fashionable promenade, and the circle about
the Bowling Green the abode of republican nabobs. The
" Old Brick Church " was a link that bound the placid days of
the past to the stirring days of the present ; and with a chival-
rous feeling which reflected much honor upon the sentiment
that awakened it, the older members of the congregation long
resisted the effort to uproot the edifice. Finally, however,
the inexorable demands of business prevailed, and the walls of
the - Old Brick " fell.

THE TIMES ENLARGING ITS BOUNDARIES. 155

This was in the beginning of the year 1857. The Times
was in its sixth year. It had prospered beyond the most ex-
travagant hopes of its projectors, — once already it had been
compelled to seek for ampler quarters;* and now, for the
second time, it needed room for expansion. Its proprietors,
with far-seeing sagacity, determined to procure for its use a
site at once permanent and prominent, and, moreover, at the
point of the greatest probable appreciation in value. The op-
portunity sought for was given, when the church property
cm no upon the market. Many bidders appeared, and legal
difficulties supervened, but the Times finally secured the site.f
Ground was broken for the erection of the Times Building, on
the 1st of May, 1857 ; the corner-stone was laid on the 12th
of the same month ; and on the 1st of May, 1858, precisely
one year from the day of the first excavation, the new office
was occupied. From these premises the Times has been is-
sued, without interruption, for nearly twelve years.

The Times Building was the wonder of its day, — for the
idlest schemer, the most extravagant spendthrift, had never
yet conceived the idea that a newspaper office should be a
place of comfort. The older class of New York journals had
always been housed in dilapidated quarters. Their editors had
toiled painfully up long flights of dark and dirty staircases, to
indite flaming political essays in dingy cocklofts. Ungarnished
apartments had been assigned to the editorial assistants : and
hapless reporters had been heard to utter thanksgivings when
their chairs held firmly together for a week, or to express their
sentiments blasphemously when desks and chairs alike fell into
one common ruin, from sheer dry-rot, at some accidental jar.
The exterior of the old newspaper dens was as unpromising as
the internal appointments were uncomfortable. The bricks,
washed clear of paint by the tempests of successive winter-.
took on a dull red hue ; the signs above the doors grew wan

* On its removal to the corner of Nassau and Beekraan streets, May 1, 1854.
This corner is now occupied by the Park Hotel.

t With the proceeds of the sale, the Brick Church congregation secured
eligible lots on Fifth Avenue, upon which was erected the uew edifice ID
•which the venerable Doctor Spring still officiates-

156 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

with age ; windows remained unwashed till the grime of years
formed cakes ; and diligent spiders spun dense and endless cob-
webs in uncleansed corners.

It was, therefore, with a feeling of surprise, mingled with
envy, that the newspaper trilobites of the day regarded the
sumptuous outfit with which the Time** set sail at this point of
its career. The wise shook their heads in solemn doubt ; old
and young came to see ; the new office was thronged for months
by visitors, attracted by the fame of the frescoes, and the
plate glass, and the tessellated pavements, the ciphers, the
library, and all the harmonious appointments. The birth of
the Times had marked one era in the Journalism of New York :
— its palatial surroundings created another. The example has
since been followed, — perhaps improved upon, — and notably
in the instances of the Herald, in New York, and the Public
Ledger, in Philadelphia.* Newspapers have become potent;
their conductors liberal. There is now space in which to
breathe, even in the poorest buildings devoted to the issues of
the press ; and the lines of the journalist are cast in pleasanter
places than before.

A full description of the Times Building is not out of place
here ; for, although changes have been made in the interior, the
general features remain unaltered : — the office may still be
regarded as a model, and its excellent appointments merit the
notice of the reader.

The building occupies the northern end of the block bounded
on the east by Nassau Street, and on the west by Park Row ;
abutting upon the open space formed by the junction of six
streets, and known as Printing House Square. This square is
sacred to the Press ; for within a stone' s-throw of each other
are situated the offices of four of the lead ing daily papers of New
York, — the Times, Tribune, World, and Sun, — and those of a

* The new Herald building, on the corner of Broadway and Ann Street, con-
structed of white marble, is costly and handsome, but its internal arrange-
ments are inferior to those of the Times establishment. The building occupied
by the Ledger, in Philadelphia, however, surpasses both those of the Times
and the Herald in the elegance of its appointments. Mr. George W. Guilds,
proprietor of the Ledger, is celebrated for his generosity as well as for his
enterprise.

THE TIMES ENLARGING ITS BOUNDARIES. 157

dozen weekly journals and the Sunday papers ; besides the gr< -at
printing establishment of the American Tract Society, the ware-
houses of paper manufacturers, the shops of book-dealers,
job-printing houses, and a countless variety of places in which
print is in one way or another coined into ready cash. No
other spot in the city is more appropriately named than Print-
ing House Square ; and in the most prominent situation stands
the office of the Times.

The principal fronts, overlooking Park Row and the Square,
are substantially the same in design, but of different dimen-
sions. The first story forms a continuous colonnade, with five
rusticated "stone piers on the western front, and four on the
northern. The intervals between these piers are occupied by
thirteen iron arched windows and entrances, resting on iron
tinted pillars with Corinthian capitals, finished by an iron
cornice.

The Park Row front is divided into three compartments by
richly ornamented pilasters, supporting a pediment, on which
is an inscription, in large gilt letters, cut in relief, The J\7.
Y. Times, 1857. The first three stories are finished with
square-headed windows. The fifth story has arched windows,
five of which are clustered in the centre, rising to the pediment.
Tin- roof is surmounted by a tall Hag-staff. The N;i
Street front is of plainer architecture, the narrow street forbid-
ding the display of more elaborate ornamentation. The total
height of the building from curb to cornice is eighty-six feet,
and the northern front is sixty feet in length.

The press-room vaults are of extraordinary dimensions, ex-
tending around the three fronts of the building, and having the
following measurements : On Spruce Street, one hundred f«vt
by twenty-six ; on Park Row, one hundred by twenty ; on \a--au
Street, ninety-five by fifteen, with a uniform depth of twenty-four
feetbelowthe curb. These vaults contain Hoe's great cylinder
presses, upon which the Times is printed from stereotype
plates.

On the Nassau Street side are the steam-boilers and engine :
on the Park Row side, the folding and mailing rooms and the
store-rooms for paper, — the latter opening to the pavement by

158 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

means of a huge movable vault-light, which admits of the pas-
sage of the largest reams of paper required in printing. The
vaults are admirably lighted and ventilated.

The publication office occupies the entire first floor of the
building, opening on three streets. Its ceiling and walls are
elaborately frescoed, and the cipher T is set in panels. The
floor is tessellated with marble, and the office is lighted by
eleven plate-glass windows. On the wall behind the counter
are excellent medallions of Faust and Franklin. The business
department of the paper is comprised in this part of the build-
ing. The publisher (Mr. George Jones) occupies a snug
apartment partitioned off from the main office, in the south-west
corner ; separate desks are occupied by the cashier, advertising
clerk, and subscription clerk ; and the appointments are adjusted
with careful regard to the prompt despatch of business.

The second and third floors are occupied by offices, and the
fourth floor is devoted to the uses of the Editorial department.
The wide iron staircase which leads from the main entrance
opposite the Park ends upon this floor. Directly at the head of
the staircase are the editors' rooms, — one for each department
of the paper. The private office of the editor — that inner
sanctuary known since newspapers had being by the name . of
the sanctum sanctorum — occupies the north-west angle of the
building, commanding fine views of Printing House Square.
the City Hall, and the Park. Adjacent to this rooin is a spa-
cious library, fitted up with shelves, tables, books, maps, and
charts, and containing files of newspapers running through a
series of years. Adjoining the library is the general writing-
room, devoted to the use of assistants. The central apart-
ment, opening from the main entrance, is also occupied by
assistants, one of whom is in charge of the paper after all others
have finished their' duties and retired for the night. Smaller
rooms are devoted to foreign and domestic news, and the
commercial and musical departments of the paper. The city
department is assigned a room of large dimensions, ailbrding
ample accommodation for the large force of reporters who are
in service day and night throughout the year.

The composing-room, or printing-office, takes up the entire

THE TIMES EXLARfiLVO ITS UOlINDARLEfl.

fifth floor, forming u spacious apartment about sixty feet by
forty, with a height of twenty feet. The ceiling is pien-ed by
sky-lights and ventilators, opening to the roof. In this room
every appliance of the typographic art is ready for instant use.
Frames of solid iron support the cases at which the printers
work ; the foreman has his desk in the centre ; three dumb-
waiters communicate respectively with the sanctum, general
room, and publication office, with a code of signals for each :
a steam hoistway extends to the vaults below the pavement, for
the purpose of raising and lowering the plates which now take the
place of the bulky " forms " of type. Iron tanks, filled with
water, cap the closets at one side of the room ; storage-room is
provided for the reception of surplus material ; the proof-read-
era are assigned a quiet corner, and each printer has his number.
The view from this room in all directions is superb. Its
height of upwards of eighty feet elevates it above the surround-
ing buildings, and the upper part of New York is spread out
before the eye in one grand panoramic view.

1(50 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTEK XVII.

•

SLAVERY, DISUNION, AND THE WAR.

RAYMOND'S RETURN FROM EUROPE, AND HIS ENCOUNTER WITH SECESSION IN
1860 — HIS UNWAVERING LOYALTY — CLEAR FORESIGHT — PROPHETIC UTTER-
ANCES SPEECH IN ALBANY IN 1860 HIS LETTERS TO WILLIAM L. YANCEY

— WAR — RAYMOND'S PATRIOTISM — THE RIOT WEEK OF 1863, AND THE
TIMES — RAYMOND'S ATTITUDE.

To return to Mr. Raymond. After a brief visit to Europe in
1859,* he resumed his editorial chair, in season to meet and
to do battle with the Secession element which was soon to
plunge the nation into war. He early saw the danger, and
was constant in warning and entreaty. When the blow fell
he showed himself brave and loyal ; and while the crisis was
impending he was neither disheartened nor dismayed. His
course through the whole of that trying period was eminently
honorable, and thoroughly consistent, making so fair an offset
to his errors of judgment after the conflict of arms had
closed, that a broad charity may forgive, if it cannot forget,
the latter.

That he was alive to the dangers of the hour ; that he
regarded Secession as a possible, or even a probable, event ;
and that with shrewd foresight he discerned the results of
Secession, his public addresses, and the political articles from
his pen which appeared in the year 1860, abundantly prove.
In an elaborate speech on " The Political Crisis," delivered at
a Union mass meeting in Albany, on the 12th of January,
1860, he discussed with great care the condition of the country,
the responsibility for its disquietude, and the nature of the
remedy. With clearer sight than many of his contemporaries

* The year of the Italian Campaign, the events of which were discussed by
Mr. Raymond in lively letters to the Times.

SLAVERY, DISUNION, AND THE WAR. 161

of like party faith, he warned his hearers that angry passion
might, ;it any moment, light the flame of war; and, moreover,
demonstrate^ by irrefragable argument that Slavery was but an
incident of the impending contest; that the striiLrLrl'> was to
be made between opposite systems of civil polity, and for the
restoration of the balance of power in the South, as against
fhe North, — or, in the words of Mr. Seward's formula, an
irrepressible conflict was to be fought out, soon or late.

" We are told," said Mr. Raymond, " that the fear of danger
to the Union is idle and groundless ; that the Union cannot be
dissolved ; that the interests of its sections bind it indissolubly
together, and render its disruption impossible. I grant the
difficulties of the case, the extreme improbabilities of the ca-
tastrophe. I concede fully that nothing but the madne>s of
passion could prompt either States or individuals to such a
stop. But I have yet to learn that anything is impossible to
nations, or to great communities, when they are frantic with
rage or resentment. I should like to know what excess nations
are not capable of, when they are profoundly swayed by the
passion of fear or resentment against some real or some fancied
wrong. Talk of national interest arresting the outbreak, or
checking the sweep of national passion ! What instance of the
kind docs history exhibit? Are not its pages filled with the
record of wars waged, and governments overthrown, and
rulers slain, and thousands slaughtered, in the heat of popular
frenzy, and under the stimulus of popular passion? Did not
France rush into a revolution which drenched her with blood?
Did not England, under passionate fear and dread of the lirst
Napoleon, plunge into a war which drained her of her chil-
dren and her treasure; which loaded her with an inextinguish-
able debt, and which i.s even to this day felt, by its oppre<-ive
results, in every cabin and every workshop of the British
realm? Were these the results of cool calculation of the na-
tional interest? Have the many revolutions which have taken
place in France, in (lermany, in Spain, and the Italian States,
been the work of sober reflection, of careful consideration?
All great movements of great communities are inovemei,-
pa>-4on. States and nations seldom or never stop to count the
11

162 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

cost. The great events of history have been the offspring of
aroused sentiment ; of profound, pervading, resistless passion.
If our fathers had foreseen the cost of independence, — had
foreseen the years of toil and of suffering it would take to
achieve it, they would scarcely have plunged, as they did,
boldly, and with micalculating faith in the unknown future,
into the long and bloody war of the Revolution. It is when'
great bodies of men are stung by a sense of wrong, or frantic
with apprehension of some impending danger, that they rush
rashly into rebellion, daring the worst that may happen, and
throwing to the winds all estimate of results."

Then, tracing minutely the causes of Northern ascendency
and Southern discontent, he rebuked alike the extremists of
the Abolitionist school, and the extremists of the South.
For, with Lincoln and the greater proportion of the members
of the Republican party, he had yet to be converted to Aboli-
tionism by the events of a long and bloody war. He con-
cluded with the following sharp analysis of the causes underly-
ing the excitement of the time : —

" The disturbances of the country connected with slavery are partly politi-
cal and partly moral. So far as they are purely political, I have strong confi-
dence that they will work out their own remedy in the natural course of
events. In every country there must be a just and equal balance of power in
the government, an equal distribution of the national forces. Each section
aud each interest must exercise its due share of influence and control. It is
always more or less difficult to preserve their just equipoise, and the larger
the country, and the more varied its great interests, the more difficult does
the task become, and the greater the shock and disturbance caused by an at-
tempt to adjust it when once disturbed. I believe I state only what is gener-
ally conceded to be a fact, when I say that the growth of the Northern States
in population, in wealth, in all the elements of political influence and control,
has been out of proportion to their political influence in the Federal Councils.
While the Southern States have less than a third of the aggregate population
of the Union, their interests have influenced the policy of the government far
more than the interests of the Northern States. Without going into any de-
tail to establish this fact, a general knowledge of the action of the govern-
ment for the past ten or fifteen years, the decisions and composition of the
Supreme Court, the organization of the committees in the Federal Senate,
the rule that obtains in the distribution of Federal office, etc., are quite siifli-
cient to show its general truth. Now the North has made rapid advances
within the last live yours, and it naturally claims a proportionate share of
influence and power in the affairs of the Confederacy.

SLAVERY, DISUNION, AND THE WAR. 1C3

" It is inevitable that this claim should be put forward, and it is also inevi-
table that it should be conceded. No parly can long resist it; it oven >.
parties, and makes them the mere instruments of its will. It is quite as
strong to-day in the heart of the Democratic party of tne North as in the
Republican ranks; and any party which ignores it will lose its hold ou the
public mind.

" Why does the South resist this claim? Not because it is unjust in itself,
but because it has become involved with the question of slavery, and has
drawn so much of its vigor and vitality from that quarter, that it is almost
merged in that issue. The North bases its demand for increased power, in a
very great degree, on the action of the government in regard to slavery —
and the just and rightful ascendency of the North in the Federal councils
comes thus to be regarded as an element of danger to the institutions of the
Southern States."

The questions at issue were further discussed by Mr. Ray-
mond in the fall of I860, in his celebrated "Letters to William
L. Yancey," which are given in full in the Appendix to this
volume. * In these letters, Mr. Raymond accepted a personal
challenge from Mr. Yancey to a discussion of the bearings of
Slavery, and the effects of Disunion, considering, first, the
position of the Northern States in relation to the slave-trade
in 1787 ; second, the motives and objects of the disunion
movement in the South ; third, the imconstitutionality and
peril of Secession ; and, fourth, the precise nature of the
pending issue. In conclusion, he defined the duty of the North,
and the true policy of the Slave States, in terms at once tem-
perate, logical, and forcible. The Yancey letters are justly
regarded as among the. best of Raymond's productions ; and in
the light of subsequent events they attain a certain measure of
historical value.

War began in April, 1861 ; the event so long dreaded occur-
ring, at last, so suddenly that the whole North was stunned by
the report of the guns that roared against Fort Stnntcr. Mr.
Raymond was among the earliest of the effective champions of
the I'liion. His editorial utterances, his public addre«r>, hi-
conversation, influence, and example were unreservedly de-
voted to the highe<t expression of patriotic ardor; and'
in the darkest hours of the long conflict, his faith never wavered.
and his energy never failed. When the Fainthearts grew

* Appendix C.

164 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Aveary of the way, he still fought on with voice and pen.
When contemporaneous journals grew clamorous for Peace on
any terms, however disgraceful,* the Times steadily encour-
aged the disheartened, stimulated the daring, and deiicd the
foe. It is a lasting honor to Raymond that the newspaper over
which he presided preserved a consistent and noble record.

A signal illustration of Raymond's courage in the presence
of danger was given in the terrible "Riot Week" of July,
1863, when, under pretence of resisting a draft for troops,
the mob of New York committed the vilest excesses, and for
days held undisputed possession of the city, encouraged to
deeds of violence by the Governor of the State, and by in-
cumbents of judicial office, and sustained by the traitorous
journals of the day. The offices of the loyal newspapers were
put in posture of defence, to avert apprehended attack, and
the proprietors of the Times planted revolving cannon in their
publication office, and provided great store of other death-deal-
ing weapons with which to repel invasion. Beneath the shel-
ter of battery and bomb, Raymond steadily poured a galling
fire into the ranks of the mob, its official supporters, and the
editors who encouraged it. After the first news of the out-
break, the Times published the following in displayed type : —

" CRUSH THE MOB !

" Mayor Opdyke has called for volunteer policemen, to serve for the
special and temporary purpose of putting down the mob which threatened
yesterday to burn and plunder the city. Let no man be deaf to this appeal!
No man can afford to neglect it. No man, whatever his calling or condition
in life, can afford to live in a city where the law is powerless, and where
mobs of reckless ruffians can plunder dwellings, and burn whole blocks of

* For instance, the New York Tribune; which printed the following editorial
paragraphs in 18G3 : —

" If three months more of earnest fighting shall not serve to make a seri-
ous impression on the rebels; if the end of that term shall find us no further
advanced than its beginning; if some malignant Fate has decreed that the
blood and treasure of the nation shall ever be squandered in f i u
efforts, — let us bow to our destiny, and make the best attainable peace."
—January 22, 1863.

" If the rebels are indeed our masters, let them show it, and let us own it.
. . . If the rebels beat Grant, and water their horses in the Delaware,
routing all the forces we can bring against them, we shall be under foot, and
may as well own i. " — June 17, 1803.

SLAVERY. MM XIOX, AND THE WAR. 165

buildings with impunity. Let the mob which rai_"-d ye-tonlay in our streets,
with so little of real restraint, obtain tin- upper hand for a day or two '
and no one can predict or imagiii'; the extent of the injury they nriy in!!.
the weight of the blow they may strike at our peace and prosperity. This
mob must be crushed at once. Kvcry day's, every hour's, delay is big with
evil. Let every citizen come promptly forward and give his personal aid to
so good and so indispensable a work."

On the third day of the riot, Raymond wrote : —

" We trust that Gov. Seymour does not mean to falter. We believe that In
his heart he really intends to vindicate the majesty of the law, according to
his sworn obligations. But, in the name of the dignity of government and
of public safety, we protest against any further indulgence in the sort of
speech with which he yesterday sought to propitiate the mob. Entreaties
and promises are not what the day calls for. No oflicial, however high his
position, can make them, without bringing public authority into contempt.
This monster is to be met with a sword, and that only. He is not to be
plaeated with a sop; and, if he were, it would only be to make him all the
more insatiate hereafter. In the name of all that is sacred in law and all
that is precious in society, let there be no more of this. There is force
enough at the command of Gov. Seymour to maintain civil authority. He
will do it. lie cannot but do it. lie is a ruined man if he fails to do it.
This mob is not our master. It is not to be compounded with by paying
black mail. It is not to be supplicated and sued to stay its hand. It is to
be defied, confronted, grappled with, prostrated, crushed. The government
of the State of New York is its master, not its slave ; its ruler, and not its
minion.

" It is too true that there are public journals who try to dignify this mob
by some respectable appellation. The Herald characterizes it as the people
and the Wurld as the laboring men of the city. These are libels that ought
to have paralyzed the fingers that penned them. It is ineffably infamous to
attribute to the people, or to the laboring men of this metropolis, such hide-
ous barbarism as this horde lias been displaying. The people of New York,
and the laboring men of New York, are not incendiaries, nor robbers, nor
Ins. 'They do not hunt down men whose only offence is the color God
gave- them; they do not chase, and insult, and beat women; they do ii»t
pillage an asylum Cor orphan children, and burn the very roof over those
orphans1 heads. They are civilized beings, valuing law and rvsp
decency; and they regard, with unqualified abhorrence, the doings of the
tribe of savages that have sought to bear rule in their midst.

"This mob is not the people, nor does it belong to the people. It is for
the most part made up of the very vilest elements of the city. It has not
even the po(,r meiit of bring what mobs usually are, — the product of mere
ignorance and passion. They talk, or rather did talk at tlrst, of the o;
sivcncss of the Conscription law; but three-fourths of those who have been
actively engaged in violence have been boys and young men under twenty
years of age, and not at all subject to the Conscription. Were the C.m-crip-
tiou. law to be abrogated to-morrow, the controlling inspiiation of the mob

166 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

would remain all the same. It comes from sources quite independent of that
law, or any other, — from malignant hate toward those in better circum-
stances, from a craving for plunder, from a love of commotion, from a bar-
barous spite against a different race, from a disposition to bolster up the
failing fortunes of the Southern rebels. All of these influences operate in
greater or less measure upon any person engaged in this general defiance of
law; and all combined have generated a composite monster more hellish
than the triple-headed Cerberus.

" It doubtless is true that the Conscription, or rather its preliminary
process, furnished the occasion for the outbreak. This was so simply be-
cause it was the most plausible pretext for commencing open defiance. But
it will be a fatal mistake to assume that this pretext has but to be removed
to restore quiet and contentment. Even if it be allowed that this might have
been true at the outset, it is completely false now. A mob, even though it
may start on a single incentive, never sustains itself for any time whatever
on any one stimulant. With every hour it lives it gathers new passions, and
dashes after new objects. If you undertake to negotiate with it, you find
that what it raved for yesterday it has no concern for to-day. It is as in-
constant as it is headstrong. The rabble greeted with cheers the suppliant
attitude of Gov. Seymour, and his promises with reference to the Conscrip-
tion law, but we have yet to hear that they thereupon abandoned their out-
rages. The fact stands that they are to-night, while we write, still infuriate,
still insatiate.

" You may as well reason with the wolves of the forest as with these men
in their present mood. It is quixotic and suicidal to attempt it. The duties
of the executive officers of this State and city are not to debate, or negotiate,
or supplicate, but to execute the laics. To execute means to enforce by
authority. This is their only official business. Let it be promptly and sternly
entered upon with all the means now available, and it cannot fail of being
carried through to an overwhelming triumph of public order. It may cost
blood, — much of it perhaps; but it will be a lesson to the public enemies,
whom we always have and must have in our midst, that will last for a gener-
ation. Justice and mercy, this time, unite in the same behest: Give them
grape, and a plenty of it."

The temper of Raymond's mind, and the tone of the Times, so
long as the rebels were in arms, were relentless. " Strike fast
and strike hard" was his counsel, until the foe had yielded ; and
in this strongly set purpose he never wavered for an instant.
The judgment, the sentiment, the patriotic instincts, the innate
honesty of the man, were all enlisted in the cause of the
country; and he was uniformly brave and true. It was only
after the smoke-clouds of the battle-field had lifted, and when
the beaten foe had submissively yielded, that he began to look
at the other side.

It is needless to enter into a relation of the petty acrimo-

SLAVERY, DISUNION, AND THE WAR. 167

nies of the period of the War, or to revive the memory of the
more serious attacks which were made upon Mr. IJaymond and
the Times. The paper and its editor lived and prospered,
through and beyond the fight, and the whole record of that
bitter season throws no shadow upon the fair fame of either.
But with Peace came Raymond's political failure.

1G8 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER XVIII.

RAYMOND IN CONGRESS, AND THE PHILADELPHIA CONVENTION.

RAYMOND IN 1862-4 — SPEECH IN WILMINGTON, DELAWARE — ELECTION TO CON-
GRESS IN NOVEMBER, 1864 THE VOTE IN HIS DISTRICT OPENING OF THE

THIRTY-NINTH CONGRESS ANDREW JOHNSON'S CONFLICT WITH THE REPUB-
LICAN PARTY RAYMOND IN THE PHILADELPHIA CONVENTION IN 1866 — THE

PHILADELPHIA ADDRESS RAYMOND'S EXPLANATORY SPEECH AT COOPER IN-
STITUTE A NOMINATION FOR THE FORTIETH CONGRESS DECLINED — LETTtR

FROM MR. RAYMOND HIS OPPONENTS INJUSTICE.

THE years 1862, 18 63, and 1864 were busy years for Mr.
Raymond. Besides his daily labors for his paper, and his active
participation in all the movements of loyal men in support of
the war, he also mingled in the local and State politics of this
period, and occupied a prominent place as a Republican leader.
On the 6th of November, 1863, he delivered a memorable ad-
dress at Wilmington, Delaware ; in the course of which, although
speaking to an audience in a Slave State, he insisted with much
boldness upon the necessity of quelling the rebellion at any
cost, of restoring the Union, and of re-establishing the suprem-
acy of the Constitution. In May, 1864^ he was appointed a
delegate to the Republican State Convention in Xew York, and
by that body was chosen delegate at large to the Republican
National Convention, which assembled in Baltimore in the
following summer. In the latter body, Mr. Raymond was
made chairman of the New York State delegation, and in
great part to his efforts Andrew Johnson was indebted for the
nomination to the Vice-Presidency. Mr. Raymond was also
chairman of the Committee on Resolutions, and shaped the
platform of 1864. He was afterwards appointed a member of
the Republican National Committee, and became its chairman.
JHis services in the political campaign of 1864, contributing
greatly to the success of the Republican party, in the State of

RAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 169

New York as well as in the Presidential election, bis political
strength and influence were continually augmented, and up to

this time he hud made no mistakes. But evil days were in store
for him.

In .November, 18G4, he accepted the Republican nomination
for Congress in the Sixth District of New York. This district
comprised (he ninth, fifteenth, and sixteenth wards of New
York city, and three candidates besides Mr. Raymond ap-
peared in the field. The campaign was unusually spirited.
Abraham Lincoln had been nominated for a seoend Presidential
term, and was opposed by George B. McClcllan. Reuben E.
Fenton was the Republican candidate for Governor of the
State of New York, in opposition to Horatio Seymour. Full
Congressional delegations were also to be elected. National,
Slate, and local issues accordingly entered into the political
controversies of the day, and all the lines were sharply
drawn. The district in which Raymond ran included the ward
which had previously sent him to Albany as its representa-
tive in the Legislature ; and he alone had the advantage of
successful precedent over the candidates arrayed against him.
His majority over the Mozart (Democratic) candidate, Eli P.
Norton, was 5,668 ; his v*ote exceeded that cast for the Tam-
many candidate, Elijah AVard, by 386; the irregular Republi-
can candidate, Rush C. Hawkins, was beaten by a majority of
5,968. The whole number of votes cast in the district was
17,238, and the poll stood as follows: Raymond, 7,315;
Ward, 6, !):><) ; Norton, 1,647, and Hawkins, 1,347.

Taking his seat in the House of Representatives at the open-
ing of the Thirty-ninth Congress, in March, 1865, Mr. Ray-
mond found himself fated to take part in the solution of the
weighty question of Reconstruction. The speedy end of the
War, closely followed by the assassination of Lincoln, threw
upon Congress a burden more difficult of adjustment than all
that had gone before. Andrew Johnson, elevated to the Pre—
idency by an accident which was not more lamentable in its
immediate result than in the consequences it entailed, so soon
belied his former professions that he first amaxed the nation,
and then excited it to freiixy. His opponents and his partisans

170 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

soon became arrayed in hostile attitude ; aud from the halls of
Congress the violence of party strife and the struggle for party
supremacy extended and widened, until the whole country
again became convulsed. The unwise and inconsequential pro-
ceeding of the impeachment of the President was the final re-
sult of this conflict, and, soon afterwards, the retirement of
the latter, at the close of his term of office, ended the dis-
graceful scene.

A lamentable fatality attended the efforts made by Mr.
Johnson's friends to sustain his power, and to defend his cause
before the tribunal of the people. Mr. Raymond, unhappily
for himself, espoused the cause of the President with mistaken
ardor. In the attempt to secure for the defeated South a fair
measure of justice, he accepted the arguments advanced by
Mr. Johnson, and pressed them with a degree of zeal which
was untempered by discretion. Unquestionably his purpose
was good, but his unfortunate tendency to temporize, in all
circumstances except those of pressing emergency, led him
into the wrong path.

This tendency of Raymond's mind was singularly illustrated
by his course in the Philadelphia Convention. On the
14th of August, 1866, sixteen months after the close of the
war, a "National Union Convention" assembled in Phila-
delphia, composed of delegates from all the States and terri-
tories of the United States, who then met together for the first
time in six years. North, South, East, and West, — Repub-
licans and Democrats, — those who had rebelled against the
authority of the Union, and those who had always been loyal
to the Union, — again united, by common consent, to consider
the condition of the country. Mr. Raymond was a prominent
member of this convention; and his New York colleague, in
the committee on the Address, was Mr. Sanford E. Church, a
leading Democrat.* The hatchet was formally buried, and

* The names of the committee appointed to draft resolutions and address
are as follows : —

Edgar Cowan, CHAIRMAN.

M'hi.p. — R. D. Rice, and George M. Wcston.

New Hampshire — C. 13. Bovvers, aud II. Birgham.

RAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 171

peace and good-will reigned. Mr. Raymond was deeply im-
pressed by the tender associations of the moment, and his
desire to placate the South found a decided expression in the
celebrated "Philadelphia Address," the preparation and adop-
tion of which cost him his place as the Chairman of the
National Executive Committee of the Republican party.

The Philadelphia Address* opened with a declaration that,
since the National Convention of 1860, events had occurred
which had changed the character of our internal politics, and had
given the United States a new place among the nations of the

Vermont — C. N. Davenport, and J. H. Williams.
Massachusetts — General D. S. Couch, andC. L. Woodbury.
Rhode Island — Win. Beach Lawrence, and Thomas Sterne.
Connecticut — James Dixon, and O. S. Seymour.
New York — H. J. Raymond, and S. E. Church.
New Jrrxry — Colonel Ingham Coriell, and Abraham Browning.
Pennsylvania — Edgar Cowan, and W. Bigler.
Delaware — Joseph P. Comegys, and Joseph Ayres Stockley.
Maryland — R. Johnson, and Jno. W. Cusfleld.
Virginia — Richard II. Parker, and John W. Marge.

H'' *t Virginia — General John J. Jackson, Parkersburg, and Daniel Lamb,
of Wheeling.

North Carolina — Wm. A. Graham, and N. Borden.
South Carolina — S. McGowan, and R. F. Perry.
Georgia — B. W. Alexander, and A. R. Wright.
Florida — \Vm. Marian, and Mr. Wilkinson.
Alolama — C. C. Langdon, and T. J. Foster.
Misttiysijijn — Win. Yager, and A. Miirdock.
Louisiana — John Ray, and Judge Baker.
Texas — I!. II. K|>|>rr><>n, and L. I). Evans.
Tennessee — John S. Brien. and John Baxter.
Arkmixas — Win. Hyers. and W. L. Bell.
Kentucky — Garrett Davis, and E. Hise.
Ohio — Sol. Hinklc, and Col. Geo. McCook.
Indiana — John S. Davis, and Thomas A. Hendricks.
Illinois — O. II. Browning, and S. S. Marshall.
Mirhiijitn — W. B. McCreery, and Chas. E. Stewart.
Missouri — Aii-tin F. King, and James A. Broadhead.
Minnesota — Henry M. Kicc, and Daniel S. Norton.
]\'ixn»ixi» — ('. A. Eidridgo. and J. J. R. Pease.
Iowa — Charles Mason, and T. II. Bentou.
Kansas — Gen. Charles W. Blair, and W. C. McDowell.
California — R. J. Walker, and J. A. McDongall.

•"la — Governor G. M. Beebe. Frank Hereford, and G. Barnard.
Orr-ijun — (;. L. Currv.and F. M. Baniuin.
DUtrict <,f Cnlumhia — 'Q. T. Swart, and Dr. Charles Allen.
Dakutah — A. A. Folk.

Idaho — ('. F. 1'owcll. and Henry W. Pugh.
Nebraska — Major H. H. Heath.
Neir .1/o-fVo — (ico. 1'. 1
Washington — Edward Lander.
Colorado — Milo Lee.

* See Appendix D.

172 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

earth. The government had passed through the vicissitudes
and the perils of civil war. Severe losses in life and in prop-
erty had been endured, and heavy burdens had been imposed
upon the people. The war, too, like all great contests which
rouse the passions and test the endurance of nations, had given
new scope to the ambition of political parties, and fresh im-
pulse to plans of innovation and reform. But now, for the
first time after six years of alienation and conflict, every State
and every section of the laud was again represented in a Xa-
tional Convention, the members of the body again meeting as
citizens of a common country. Therefore the address contin-
ued : it should be remembered, first, always and everywhere,
that the war has ended and the nation is again at peace ; that
this convention had assembled to take friendly counsel, and
that its work was to be, not that of passion nor of resentment
for past offences, but of calm and sober judgment and a lib-
eral statesmanship. In the second place, the address argued
the necesshty of recognizing the full significance and promptly
accepting all the legitimate consequences of the political results
of the war. Thirdly, it insisted upon the importance of an ac-
curate understanding of the real character of the war, and of
the victory by which it was closed. Then came a declaration
that the constitution of the United States remained precisely
as before the war ; that this had been iterated and reiterated by
the Executive and by Congress ; and that only since the war had
been announced "the right of conquest and of confiscation, the
right to abrogate all existing governments, institutions, and laws,
and to subject the territory conquered and its inhabitants to such
laws, regulations, and deprivations as the legislative department
of the government may see fit to impose." After this followed
an elaborate argument adverse to the action taken by Con-
gress, turning upon the point that it was unjust to refuse to
ten States a representation in Congress, — unjust because those
States were not in rebellion, but were one and all "in an atti-
tude of loyalty towards the government, and of sworn alle-
giance to the Constitution of the United States."

To this address was appended a " Declaration of Principles,"

RAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 173

— and this Declaration conveyed a promise of support to An-
drew Johnson.

The President, however, gained nothing, while Mr. Ray-
mond Io*t all. From the date of the publication of the Phila-
delphia address the name of Mr. Raymond was dropped from
the list of Republican leaders; his cordial atliliation with the
members of his party ceased ; the Republican National Com-
mittee met and removed him from the chairmanship, and the
next State Convention ratified their action. Mr. Raymond
quickly perceived the false step, and endeavored to retrace it,
but he was never able to regain his former political position.
Nevertheless, he continued to give a hearty support to the can-
didates of the Republican party.*

* Raymond was accused of having gone over to the Democratic party.
This accusation is set at rest by the following letters, which were flrst pub-
lished in the Albany Evening Journal in the fall of 1866 : —

" EDITORS OK TIII: ALBANY JOURNAL, —

'• (ii.M I,I;MI.\ : It is duo to the Hon. Henry J. Raymond that the following
letter be published. It shows he never intended to join the Democratic
party, and that he is consistent in supporting the Union State ticket.

"Respectfully yours, KAXSOM BALCOM.

" Binghamtofl, Oct. 8, 1866.

•'WASHINGTON, July 17, Hsfi.

" MY DEAR Sm : I have yours of the 14th. I think there can be no doubt as
to the substantial unanimity of the Union party in our Slate, and fix-where,
in opposition to the general course of the President, and to the Philadelphia
Conveiitii.n. What may. happen between now and election time, after the
pressure of Congress is removed and when the people have had an opportu-
nity to canvass tin: matter more coolly, it is not easy to say.

"I think it not unlikely that the Philadelphia Convention may have a whole-
some inlluence on our State Convention, and make it somewhat more, mod-
erate than it would be otherwise. But it is not likely to disturb the integrity
or :tx-eii':enc\ of the Union party.

"I shall lie governed in my course toward it by developments. I do not see
the necessity of denouncing it from the start, nor until more is known of its
composiiion. pur;i.,ses. and action. It looks now as though it would be
mainly in the hands of the Copperheads. It'it should happen to contain a
majorny of sensible men from all parties, who care more for the country than
any parly, it may possibly exclude the extreme Copperheads and lleb.-
lay down a platform which shall command the respect of the whole, country.
But this would lie a kind of miracle which we have no right to expect in these
days to look for.

-• 1 think, in -|,j;(> Of all the rash things that have been said, and the crazy
schemes that ha\e been propped by the Radicals this winter, what h .
ually been d,»nc l>v Congress merits approbation. All which i: has done in a
political SCUM- is ],. p;1vS the Constitutional amendments. 1 voted for them,
and am ready to stand upon them a> the platform of the par;y. I think the
members from Tennessee and Arkai race admitted to their

seats, as loyal men, who can take the oath and come from loyal con>litucu-

174 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Mr. Raymond finally discovered the true character of the
Executive whose cause he had undertaken to defend ; and, when
fully convinced of the utter baseness of the man, wrote in the
columns of the Times these words : —

"We have tried very hard to hold our original faith in his personal hon-
esty, and to attribute his disastrous action to errors of judgment and infirmi-
ties of temper. The struggle has often been difficult, and we can maintain it
uo longer. We give it up. It is impossible to reconcile his language in re-
gard to our national debt with integrity of purpose, or any sincere regard for
the honor and welfare of the nation. We only regret that foreigners should
be able to cite a President's message in seeming proof of our national dis-
honor and disgrace."

It is but simple justice to the memory of Mr. Raymond to
place upon record one of the most elaborate justifications of him-
self, and of the President, which he ever felt it his duty to
make. It was a long and eloquent speech, delivered at a
Union meeting in the Cooper Institute, in the city of New
York, in February, 18G6. At this meeting, Francis B. Cut-
ting presided, and addresses were delivered by Secretary Sew-
ard, Postmaster-General Dennispn, and Mr. Raymond. The
immediate occasion of the gathering was Mr. Johnson's veto of
the Freedman's Bureau bill. The supporters of the President
improvised a mass meeting to stem the tide of popular indig-
nation which the President's action had created; and one of the
resolutions adopted was as follows : —

Resolved, That we approve the general principles announced by the Presi-
dent in his annual message and in his late message, explaining the reasons
for withholding his assent to the bill for the continuance and enlargement of

cics. If Congress would do that and adjourn, we could go into the canvass
this fall without any fear of the Philadelphia, Convention, or anything else.
I think the President lias made a great mistake in taking ground airainst
those amendments. They arc in themselves reasonable. wKe. and popular.
It is easy to take exceptions to details, and to the mode in which they have
been passed, but the people will not be stopped by these triiles. They will
go to the heart of the matter, and judge them on their merits. Yours very
truly, "II. J. RAYMOND.

" lion. RANSOM BALCOM."

Mr. Raymond's letter, It will be observed, was written a month before the
Philadelphia Convention met.

BAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 175

the Freedman's Bureau; and while we express this approval \ve give him our
confidence, and promise him our continued support in all proper measures for
the restoration of constitutional government in all parts of the country."

The time, it should be remembered, was the month of Feb-
ruary, 1866. The Philadelphia Convention did not meet until
the following August. Mr. Raymond, therefore, had not yet
fallen into his fatal error. His speech is so fair an expression
of the motives which had governed his course in Congress, and,
at the same time, serves so well to explain some of his mental
characteristics, that we append it entire, as revised by him-
self:—

" I need not say, my fellow-citizens, how deeply I stand indebted to you
for the greeting with which you receive me upon my appearance here. I
came here not to speak to you, but to hear you speak to me, to Congr
the country. My duty for the moment lies elsewhere. I have been endeav-
oring to discharge it to the best of my ability, and with a conscientious pur-
pose to serve as well as I could the country whose welfare we all have at
heart. I came here not for inspiration from your presence, even, though any
one who had any sensitiveness to the popular impulse which must always
rule this land, might well draw inspiration from such a scene as is presented
here to-night; but I trust I may say, without undue boasting, that in such a
crisis as this, through which our country is just passing, I need no inspira-
tion to do my duty but the sense of right and of obligation to the community.

"It has been painful to me, must be painful to any one in public life, to separate
himself mi t/r> «( public questions from those personal and political friends icith
•whom he has been in the, habit of acting ; but I have done it, if I know m>i <>v-u
heart, because I believed that tin' interest* «f the c<>untry rc<iuircJ. dlj'irent action
from that trliieh On'ij icere counselling me to take. [Applause.] I must do
them the justice to say here that for the most part I believe them to bo ju--t
as conscientious in their impulses and just as patriotic in their motives as I
claim to be in mine. I do not believe that the Congress now assembled at
Washington is desirous of permanently breaking up this Union; but I do
believe that the action they are taking will have the effect of doing it for a
time, but only for a time; for I agree most heartily and thoroughly with the
distinguished Secretary of State [.Mr. Seward], who has addressed you to-
night in words of wisdom and eloquence which you will not soon forget, and
which the whole country will hear with delight. I agree with him that the
restoration of this Union is but a question of time, and that Congre—
Governors, or Presidents even, can delay that time but for a little while.
[Applause.]

•'Why, fellow-citizens, it seems to me that he must be a blind and dull
observer of the progress of history as it is being enarted in our time who
can doubt that for a moment. What have we been doing for the la-4 live
years? For what have we been raising those va>t armies by the voluntary
action of our people — those vast sums of money? For what have our

176 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

brethren been shedding their blood on the field of battle, laying down their
lives, sacrificing everything they had on earth? Why are we now loaded
with a debt greater than this nation ever believed it would be called upon to
bear? For what has all this been done, but to save the Union which our
fathers gave us and charged us to preserve unimpaired to the latest genera-
tion? l)id any of us ever hear from any source of authority, from the day
when this war began to the day when it closed, any declaration of any other
purpose in waging it than to preserve the integrity of the Union and main-
tain the supremacy of the Constitution of the United States?

" A VOICE — Yes!

"Mr. RAYMOND — Will you be good enough to name it? Congress declared
over and over again, that the object, and the only object, of this war was to
maintain the integrity of the Union, and to preserve the supremacy of the
Constitution. Why, sir, during the first year of the war, that great and
patriotic statesman, now deceased, John J. Crittenden [Applause], introduced
into the House of Representatives a resolution declaring that, and nothing
but that, to be the object of the war, and at just about the same time that
other great and equally patriotic statesman, Andrew Johnson [Great cheer-
ing], introduced into the Senate a resolution declaring the same thing, in
nearly the same words, and both passed unanimously. Congress has never
from that day to this declared any other purpose. The Executive depart-
ment, the Legislative department, every department of the government,
from the beginning of the war to the end, when they spoke at all of its
object, declared that object to be the preservation of the integrity of the
Union and the maintenance of the authority of the Constitution. The Presi-
dent, in all his proclamations, from the first to the last, made that declara-
tion, and Congress never disapproved it; but, on the contrary, reiterated
and reaffirmed it.

"While individuals in Congress may have had other purposes in view,
Congress itself, by its authority, declared that to be the purpose of the war,
and declared furthermore, that when that purpose was attained the war
ought to end. It was that purpose, thus declared, that united the people of
this great nation as one man in their efforts for the prosecution of the war
and the preservation of the Union. While there was a large party in the
country who disapproved of the measures of the government, and who
resisted and hampered the government in carrying out those measures, I am
willing to do them the justice to believe that they acted from a sincere con-
viction that war would not preserve the Union, but would destroy it. They
said no Union like this, depending wholly on the will of the people for its
existence, could be preserved by force; and the reason they gave was, that
even if the war should be prosecuted to a successful termination, if the
rebellion should be crushed, the people conquered would never consent to
come back again into a Union with the people who had coi queml them.
Now what is the fact in that respect? Are they not even now, when thor-
oughly subdued, ready to come back? Are they not anxious to come back?
Do they not, though subdued and crushed by the suppression of tho rebel-
lion, see and acknowledge, one and all, that the only flag that can give them
shelter is that of the glorious Stars and Stripes against which they have been
fighting for years ?

RAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 177

"VOICES — Yes, yes!

"Now, I have gone through all this history simply to say this one tiling,
that the people of the United States who have prosecuted this war and have
given so freely of their money and of their lives to bring it to a suc< ••
conclusion, all for the purpose of maintaining this Union, will adhere to that
purpose and that determination to the end. Do you suppose they are going
to abandon that purpose, which carried them through the war, now that the
war is over?

" VOICES — Never !

" In their resentment against those who brought this war upon the
country, it is possible, nay, it is natural, that men should be unwilling to
take hasty action in restoring the rebellious States to their rights under the
Constitution. They do not feel it to be right, or proper, or safe, that the
men who have been prosecuting this war against the government should,
upon its cessation, instantly come back and resume their seats as members
of it. The feeling is natural, and within limits it is entirely just and proper.
We do not, any of us, wish to see men red-handed with the blood of our
brethren, march up with an air of .triumph, as though they were the victors,
and take their seats among those who make our laws. We do not propose
that this shall happen. Nobody has proposed any such thing.

" The President has said that whoever takes a scat in Congress, or fills an
office under the Federal Government, should be a man loyal to the Constitu-
tion and the Union, and able to take truly any test oath the government may
prescribe ; and all that he asks is, that loyal men, representing loyal con-
stituents, and able to take the oath prescribed for all, shall be allowed to
come up and take their seats in Congress, in order that those States may be
restored to their rights as members of the Union under the Constitution.
[Applause.] As for disloyal men, who cannot take the oath prescribed, he
has repeatedly said, and we all agree, that they had better go back to their
constituents and give place to others better fitted to take part in the legi>la-
tion of the land. And so say we all of us. But the President does think
that a State loyal enough to furnish a loyal President; a State which, during
the continuance of the war, adopted a free Constitution and abolished
slavery; a State that reorganized itself on Republican principles, abjuring
the rebellion and driving out the rebels from its borders ; a State which has
sent loyal men to Washington, — the President does think that the represent-
atives of such a State should be admitted; and that there is no reason on
the face of the earth for refusing them admission — for thus turning our
backs upon loyal men and confounding them with di>loyal men of the South-
ern States, in one common sentence of condemnation. [Renewed applause."!
In that sentiment I believe the whole country will thoroughly, heartily,
zealously, concur.

•• Why, even this present Congress, as I have reason to know, was ready
last Monday, by a majority of its votes in the House of Representatives, tu
admit the Representatives from the State of Tennessee to their seats in Con-
gress. Why, then, did they not do it? Because, unfortunately, that House
has surrendered its power to admit members without the consent of one of
its own committees, or without overriding it ; and because, moreover, the
President of the United States, in the discharge of what he believed to be his

178 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

solemn obligations to his conscience and his oath, vetoed a bill which they
had sent for his approval, and to show their resentment of that act, the House
still further resolved that no member from Tennessee, or any other Southern
State, should be admitted to either House, until both Houses had consented
thereto.

" That action was taken in a moment of resentment. You all know how
powerful for the moment resentments are, and how, under the influence of
passion and excitement, where no time is taken for discussion or delibera-
tion, resentments may decide very important action. The leaders in this
case took care that there should be no discussion, by moving the previous
question, and refusing to hear one single word from any man who disap-
proved of the action they proposed to take. It was thus, and thus only, that
this resolution was passed. But if you know how natural and how powerful
such resentments are, you know, also, how short-lived they are. You know
that the passion which may lead a man to do an act to-day may subside, so
that he will regret it to-morrow; and my own belief is, that if time can be
afforded for calm reflection on this great subject, Congress, as well as the
country, will come to see that the path of wisdom, the path of safety, and the
path of patriotism lies in quite another direction from that in which they
have been walking hitherto. [Applause.]

" The immediate occasion of the resentment which has influenced Con-
gress in this case is, as you have been told to-night, the veto of the Freed-
man's Bureau Bill, which was sent to the President, and returned by him ou
Monday last. The reasons which led him to disapprove that bill have also
been set before you. The language used by the friends of the bill, in Con-
gress and out of Congress, on this subject. — and I am sorry to sec in this
city, to some extent, — implies that the President's disapproval of that par-
ticular bill leaves all the slaves that have been made free under the amend-
ment to the Constitution at the absolute will and mercy of the late rebels
among whom they live. We are told that the President lias abandoned them
to their fate, and wholly turned them over to the rule of the rebels, their late
masters. That is an entire misapprehension of the facts in the case. The
President's message itself should have corrected that view, and will correct
it in the minds of all who read it with candor.

" That message expressly states that, for one year after peace shall have
been proclaimed by him or Congress, the present Freedman's Bureau Bill,
of which no complaint is made, and which gives full and complete protection
to that class of persons, will be in full and complete effect ; and that after
one year's experience, if it shall be found necessary, Congress, which will
*hen be in session, can pass a law better adapted to tlio state of affairs which
shall then exist. Is not that sensible? Is it not reasonable? The President
has not left it lo be inferred that he is indifferent to the fate of the colored
race in the Southern States. He insists, as the people of the whole country
•mu insist, that tueir freedom shall be established and protected, — that all
the rights of free men shall be secur~4to them, — that they shall have a
to courts of law as parties and as witnesses, for the protection of life, lib-
erty and property, — that they shall have the right tc make contracts, to o\vn
real and personal estate, to enjoy the returns of their labor, and in all
respects Involving their civil and personal rights tc be placed upon the same

RAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 170

footing with other citizens living under the Constitution of the same country.
He has ivpi-ated this over and over again in his public declarations. He rec-
ogni/.es the obligation of the government to protect them during their tran-
sition from slavery to freedom. And he stands ready to execute fully and
freely all the provisions of the existing law, — which will be in full force for
at least one year longer for securing this great end. But why this hot haste,
this impatient and intolerant determination of Congress, to pass a new law a
yo;ir before it can be required, — conferring upon the President enormous
power which he does not wish to exercise, and thrusting upon him vast sums
of money that he does not wish to spend?

" It is not for me to canvass the motives of public action ; but I can easily
understand that in this case it may be quite other than that which appears on
the surface. Certainly it cannot be purely and exclusively a desire to protect
this class of our people, for the existing bill does that. Why, then, disturb
it, — why interfere with its operation ? Unfortunately it is a question of sen-
timent. or passion, and action taken under such influence often aims at other
results than those which its authors would be willing to avow. I must say
that I look with distrust upon the actions of the Committee in whose hands
Congress has placed the entire control of this question. Not that I distrust
the motives of the men upon it; but it is a novel thing, something entirely
without example in our history, for each House of Congress to abnegate
powers which the Constitution in express terms confers upon it, and hand
them over to a joint committee which sits in secret, making no report of its
action, and giving to Congress none of the information which it was created
to give, but sending down to that Congress, from time to time, changes in
our Fundamental Law, and demanding that they shall be adopted on the spot.

"I say it is a new portion of our history, and it does not seem to me in
accordance with the principles of our Republican government. It reminds
me too much of the revolutionary committees appointed to take charge of
:ive affairs in the revolutionary times of France. God forbid that the
same unholy ambition should ever seize any of the leaders in our legislative
body, or tempt them to emulate such bad examples ! I do not know, how-
ever, nor do you know, into what extremities passion may lead desperate and
daring men ; and from the bottom of my heart I thank the President of the
United States for recalling the attention of Congress and the nation to the
great fundamental principles which underlie our institutions, and upon
which our government, if it is to be permanent, must always rest.
[Applsn

•• The President, in his annual message, and in this Veto Message, has laid
down principles, without the maintenance of which this government cannot
. :<1 continue to be Republican. Either we must adhere to those prin-
ciples, or \ve must cease to be in fact, whatever we may be in form, a Repub-
lican government. \\*e may, if we abandon them, still have a Congi'-1--: we
may still go through all the forms of election under the Constitution; we
may vote by universal sufl'rage ; we may still have one in power at Washing-
ton who shall be called simply a President ; but you will llnd that ' the like-
ness of a kingly crown' will sit upon his head, and he will wield more than
kingly power, unless the principles laid down by the President continue to
form the basis of our government. Republican governments are rarely, if

180 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

ever, overthrown by open and hostile force ; they are undermined ; their
principles are disregarded, and other principles creep in under those very
Republican forms which conceal their real nature. The Emperor of France
sits on his Imperial throne to-day by virtue of universal suffrage ; and his
puppet Maximilian in Mexico holds his deputized authority there nominally
in the name of the Mexican people. Forms are nothing when the spirit of
despotism exists, when the purpose to create despotic authority pervades any
considerable body of influential men in the State, and they have the power to
give effect to their wishes. In such a case it makes little difference whether
they abolish Republican forms, or infuse their poison into the veins of the
body politic under those forms.

"James Madison, who, perhaps, more than any other man, was cognizant
of the principles which were laid down in the Constitution of the United
States, in one of the numbers of the Federalist, — I forget which one, — sol-
emnly warns the American people that usurpation is much more to be
dreaded on the part of Congress than on the part of the Executive ; and he
warns the people always to watch encroachments upon their liberties at the
hands of Congress rather than on the part of the President of the United
States. I cannot help thinking that the events of this passing time give
practical force and weight to that solemn warning from that high authority;
for I see that while in Congress there is a steady pressure for universal suf-
frage in the States, including all colors and all races, there is at the same
moment an equally steady pressure at Washington for the consolidation of
Federal power. There seems at first view to be a discrepancy here ; but
there is not the least in point of fact. Universal suffrage may only create
more tools wherewith despotic power shall work out its own decrees. [A
voice, ' That's the talk ! ']

"It behooves us to watch with jealous care the dawuings of usurpation. I
have never been, of course, as all or nearly all of you have been, the advocate
or disciple of that particular doctrine of State rights which was held in the
Southern States, which gave to each State the right of sovereignty even
against the superior sovereignty of the United States. Yet I have always
held to the doctrine of the State rights as it is laid down in the Constitution
of the United States, and I believe to-day that it is far more important for us
to maintain those State rights as they actually exist and are recognized in
the Constitution, than it it is to increase the authority of the Federal Govern-
ment. That authority, as events have shown, is ample for all emergencies.
Why, who can- raise any question hereafter about this Republic not being a
strong government? We hear those sneers from the other side of the water
sometimes, when they tell us that because we have no King and no Parlia-
ment, and depend wholly upon the will of the people, that therefore our gov-
ernment is weak. Our English brethren (we may as well give them that title
as any other) [Laughter] told us from the beginning that the moment the emer-
gency came to test the strength of our government it would fail ; and they
consoled themselves and cheered each other by repeating, during the lirst
two years of our war, the comforting assurance that the Republic had failed,
and that their predictions had been fulfilled. There is an adage that ' he
laughs loudest who laughs last.' [Laughter and applause.]

" I think, according to present indications from the same quarter, that they
have made up their minds that this government has not failed. It proved ita

RAYMOND IX CONGHKSS, ETC. 181

strength in the crisis through which it passed ; and there is not a single Eng-
lishman to-day who will not acknowledge to you that his own country could
not thus go through a four years' war involving anything like the ditticiillies
from which ours has successfully emerged. This government is to-day the
strongest government in the world, because it has the will of the :
for its basis and the Constitution of the United States for their guide. [Loud
cheers.] The Federal Government is strong enough for all emeri;
We do not need to add to its strength, for that has been shown to be sutli-
cient by the last four years of war. But we do need to maintain intact and
in all their integrity those rights of personal freedom, control of personal
action, laws of property, laws of crime, everything relating to locali:
we do need to maintain those rights in the States with a jealous eye. [Ap-
plause.] It may seem very well to announce to-day the policy and propriety
of exercising absolute power in Washington over the rebel States because
they have been in rebellion, and because we have by force subjected them to
our will; but if you once establish the idea that the government can exercise
absolute authority, without regard to the restrictions of the Constitution,
over any one State, and you will find that every other State as well may be
subjected to the same power under other circumstances. To-day it may be
South Carolina, but who will say that to-morrow it will not be Massachusetts
or New York? [Applause.] It will depend entirely upon the accidental as-
cendency of political parties what States shall feel the power so created.
We cannot afford to have the rights of States thus placed at the absolute
control and discretion of any party at any time in Congress or elsewhere.
We have a written charter of liberty — a written guide for our conduct ; and
that man to-day is the best statesman — that man from the day our country
•was formed has been the best statesman — who adheres most closely and
rigidly and conscientiously to the letter and the spirit of that great instru-
ment. [Applause.]

" Now, fellow-citizens, I for one believe these things to be true; so believ-
ing, I have acted upon them thus far during my short career in Congiv.^,
and I shall endeavor to do it to the end. [Cheers, and a voice : 'And we will
stand by you ! '] I have no fears of public disapproval, not because I do not
respect the popular will, for there is nothing to which I bow with more abso-
lute deference, but because I have the most unconquerable faith that the
people, the real government of this country, is a people of intelli.
of wisdom, of patriotism, and of devotion to the principles of the Constitu-
tion. And I know that in the end those principles will be maintained. I
deprecate any temporary disturbance of the harmony that should exi-t
among people having the same objects and the same purposes in view.
But better even that, than a permanent departure of our government from
the constitutional path in which alone they can walk with safety and with
honor.

" There is a great deal said about the disloyal spirit of the Southern S-
I have no doubt that there is a great deal of discontent and ill-feeling toward
the North, and perhaps toward the government of the I'nited States, in the
South, but I have known and watched carefully this state of facts. When
the armies of the Southern rebellion tlrst surrendered, the whole Southern
people surrendered with them. There seemed to be an entire abandon

182 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

raent of everything which they had ever claimed as peculiarly belonging to
them, and a submission to the will of the United States as a conquered
people. That lasted all through the summer; during all the time that the
President was directing the action of the government, and all the time that
he was imposing upon them obligations, and advising them as to what meas-
ures they had better take. I say their relations with the government, all
the time that he was thus usiug his power as the Executive to set in motion
the machinery of the State Governments, and bring the South into practical
relations with the Federal Government, this feeling of loyalty, this desire
to return, this willingness to be on the best terms with us in the North,
constantly increased in the Southern States. I am not prepared to say that
it is as strong to-day as it was four mouths ago ; but I cannot help saying
that it began to decay just when Congress met, and began to denounce them,
and repel all their efforts to return to the Union they had endeavored to de-
stroy.

"If, therefore, there is an increase of ill-feeling, my own conviction is,
that we may justly ascribe it to the language and action of Congress, and of
some presses and men in the Northern States. [Applause.] But suppose it
to exist now, and that this is not the cause of it ; what is to be done about
it? Are we to exclude those States forever from the duties, the power, and
the responsibilities of this government? Are we to excuse them from paying
their share of the interest and principal of our public debt? Are we never
to look to them again to swell the great tide of our commerce, which, before
the war, whitened every sea, and brought treasure from the ends of the earth
to our imperial coffers ? Why, certainly, no one dreams of this. We must
collect our taxes there, they say. How? Collect taxes to pay our debts
from subjugated provinces at the point of the bayonet, by deputies from
Washington, sent down there from the North? Treat them as subjugated
provinces, and do nothing toward restoring their prosperity? Why, this is
the dream of a madman ! Every section of any country that had men in it
fit to live, would become exasperated and goaded into rebellion within one
year after such a policy should be inaugurated. [Applause.] And we, more-
over, should be deprived of the consolation of believing their rebellion
wrong. It is precisely that which drove our fathers into rebellion.

"Read the Declaration of Independence, — the recitation there of the
wrongs that justified that great revolution, and you will see that they are the
identical wrongs which a portion of our people at the North propose to in-
flict upon the Southern States to-day. If it were right to do this, or if the
Constitution gave us power to do it, we could not afford to do it. This gov-
ernment cannot afford to treat with despotic power and arbitrary rule any
portion of this nation, no matter how small that part, or how great its sins
may have been. [Cheers, and cries of ' Good! '] If this Republic is to live
at all through time to come, it is to live as the great exemplar of self-gov-
ernment, where all the subjects of law have a voice in making that law, and
in choosing men by whom that law shall be made and carried into effect.
And we should do ourselves an infinitely greater wrong than we should do
them, if we continued pi-rmanently te make laws for the Southern States,
and not allow them any influence or voice in the making of those laws.

" I need not tell you that I say this from no sympathy with the rebels who

BAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 183

plunged our country into so desolating and terrible a war. You here, who
know and watch ray political course, for I am compelled to express my opin-
ions upon public topics from day to day, instead of concealing them for six
mouths, and then adapting them to the emergencies of the occasion
[Laughter] — you all know that, from the very day that this war was threat-
ened, I have done everything in my power to enforce its prosecution
with the utmost vigor. [Cries of ' Yes, yes ! ' and ' Good ! '] We had one duty
to perform, and that was to crush it. When it is crushed, we have another
duty to perform. Our lamented President, before he fell by the hands of the
assassin, declared that it was our duty now to bind up the wounds of the na-
tion, to take care of the orphan and the widow, and see to it that peace was
restored to all sections, and to do this ' with malice toward none and with
charity for all.' [Great applause.] It is a sentiment which any man might
willingly die by ; it is a sentiment which it is every man's duty to live by.
[Applause.]

•• Now, fellow-citizens, I hope that reflection and the subsidence of passion
will lead all our people, in Congress and elsewhere, to see that we are to live
with these people of the Southern States who have been in rebellion a- f< 1-
low-citi/.ens in peace and amity for all time to come. As living under oue
common flag, we arc to see to it that we so cultivate in the minds of the.-e
men the spirit of patriotism and of loyalty that when we next meet on the
battle-Held it shall be side by side under that common flag, battling against
despotisms and despotic powers whenever they may threaten our peace.
[Loud applause.]

" If we are to have peace at all, we must seek it in the ways of peace, not
in the icays of malice, hatred, and uncharitalleness. We must be willing to
let the past bury its dead, and to live for the present and for future genera-
tions. We must consult the welfare and growth of the Southern St:.
essential parts of our common union. We must do what we can to renew
and iviiivigorate the sources of their prosperity, to build up and aid the new
development of industry upon which they have entered, which is as new and
strange to them as the climate in which they live would be new to most of us
from this Northern sphere. We must aid them, and not check and retard
them, in their new career. We hope for such a state of things as will lead
men of capital in the North to go down there, mingle freely with their peo-
ple, and join their efforts for their common good, and that the men at the
South shall communicate as freely with the North. With this spirit we shall
have no dilliculty in restoring more friendly relations than have hither
isted, for the great source of our dislikes, distrusts, jealousies, and hatreds
n removed forever.

" Why. then, should we not join in this common cause? I believe we have
a President who has at heart, more than any other particular sentiment of
bil being, the purpose to restore this nation to tin- relations of amity and
peace from one end to the other. [Loud applause.] It seems to me that
the course he has adopted is not only the wisest, the most just, and
likely to produce good results, but it is the one which in the end must be
adopted, for neither Congress, nor any other power, can keep t!
out permanently. If this Congress chooses not to admit a State. l>-\al or
disloyal, we shall very soon have a Congress which will do it [Hearty ap;

184 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

plause], and one that I am afraid will be much less careful in the distinction
it will draw between the loyal and the disloyal than we are.

"This is one reason of my anxiety to have the present Administration and
the present Congress bring about that great result. I believe they will do it
wisely. I believe they will admit none but loyal men, — loyal to the Con-
stitution and loyal to the Union, — who feel the same interest with us in
promoting the common prosperity of our common country. The President
proposes to restore the Union by the practical method of admitting loyal
representatives of loyal constituents to take their seats in Congress just as
fast as they shall be sent to Washington for that purpose. Congress pro-
poses to exclude them — but it proposes nothing else. All its acts are mere
obstructions. — purely negative, denying everything and accomplishing noth-
ing. Why does it not bring forward its practical measures ? Why does it
not propose either to make these States provinces or territories, and govern
them accordingly ? Why does it not prescribe terms and conditions of ad-
mission ? Why does it not put into the form of laws some of its theories of
dead States, of confiscation, and of government by deputy? Why does it not
exercise the power it is so fond of asserting?

"If the President is a usurper, who has forfeited his head, why does it
not impeach him ? Why content itself with talking and scolding about what
the President is doing, instead of doing something positive and practical
itself? Now, my fellow-citizens, you know better than I can tell you that it
is with you — the people of the Nation — that the final decision of this great
question rests. You are the final arbiters of this great dispute. The desti-
nies of the Union, which your armies have saved, rest upon your wisdom and
your fidelity. We, who are in Congress to execute your will, have but a
short time to live ; our official existence is very ephemeral ; our action is really
of but trifling and temporary importance. In our two years of service, how-
ever badly we may behave, we can really inflict but little injury upon the long
life of this great and vigorous nation. Its strength resists our most w'icked
blows — its vitality quickly heals the slight wounds we can inflict. If we act
unwisely, you will very soon replace us by those who better understand, or
will more faithfully execute, your wise behests. If we serve you and our
country with discretion, with fidelity, and patriotic purposes that rise above
all passions and all selfishness, you will give us that approval which is the
only lilting recompense a public man can receive for good service to his coun-
try and his age. [Loud and long-continued applause.] "

In September, 1866, Mr. Raymond declined a re-noniination to
CoiiiiTcss, which had been tendered to him by the Conservative
Republicans of New York. The letter conveying the request
that he would again permit the use of his name, bore the sig-
natures of well-known citizens, and is here appended: —

" IIox. HicxRr J. RAYMOND, —

"DEAR SIR: — As the time is drawing near for the selecting of a candidate
for the next Congress, we deem it proper to address you as our present Rep-

RAYMOND IN CONGliESS, ETC. 185

resentative, to communicate what we believe to be the sentiments and wishes
of the large majority of the union voters of this Di.«trict.

" Your constituents fully appreciate the delicate and difficult task which has
devolved upon you to perform during the present Congress. New and ex-
traordinary measures have been submitted for legislative action, the very
discussion of which might well have appalled the most profound and experi-
enced statesmen; and we venture to say, that no member, however wise and
patriotic, if at all active and outspoken, lias been able to so shape his speech-
es, or his votes, as to meet with the unqualified approbation of all his con-
stituents. Amid all the diversity of opinion upon the great political
questions of the day, we have watched with no little solicitude your legisla-
tive career; and we have found you ready and able in debate, and fully equal
to any emergency. You have, under the most trying circumstances, given
utterance to your sentiments, and have sustained your views with marked
ability and power. We admire your acknowledged statesmanship, and have
implicit confidence in your political integrity, while we are proud to be rep-
resented by one who, in so short a time, has attained so high a rank in our
national councils.

" In view of these facts, together with your ripe experience as a legislator,
your thorough knowledge of the very important questions which still agitate
and divide the people, we think it highly desirable that you should be contin-
ued in the oflice which, thus far, you have so ably filled.

" We, therefore, beg leave to ask the privilege of presenting your name as a
candidate for re-election. Should you be the choice of the convention of
the Sixth Congressional District, we doubt not that you will receive, at the
polls, the cordial support of all who favor the union, peace, and prosperity
of our common country.

" We remain, yours, etc.,

T. E. STEWART, E. DEXNISOS,

PETER GILSEY, JOHN CREIGHTON,

R. M. BLATCHFORD, OBADIAII N. CUNNINGHAM,

E. C. BENEDICT, JEREMIAH PANGBURS,

A.NDUEW CARRIGAN, DAVID HUYLER,

PAUL, S. FORBES, JOHN P. HONE,

A. W. BRADFORD, AV.n. II. ALBERTSOX,

ISAAC N. COMSTOCK, " ROBERT BEATTY,

CHARLES LEFLER, EDWARD UDLET,

JOSEPH P. BULL, ROBERT R. CARPKNTKB,

M. FRELIGU, M.D., JAMES WARES,

W. F. HAVKMI:YKK, GILBERT J. HUNTER,

IVKKSON AV. KSAPP, CYRUS AAT. PRICE,

HERMAN G. CARTER, WM. SguiRK,

STEPHEN A. PIERCE, H. S. GOUQH,

M. WICKHAM, URITTON,

W. 0. DEN-- STEIMIKN I'ELL,

CHARLES JOHNSON, GEOKGE B. DEAN*,

WILLIAM YOUNGS, JOSEPH SOUDER,

SAMUEL LONGSTREET, AVIU.IAM G.

JAMES W. BOOTH, J. .M< I • \r.\ \M>,

JAMES HARRISON, THOMAS L^'-^wr

186

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

JAMES YOUNG,
THOMAS L. BEEBE,
B. SKAATS,
JAMES MORE,
ALEXANDER SHAW,
ALEXANDER PAIRSON,
JAMES L. SELDEN,
JAMES J. DAVIS,
WILLIAM E. DEVLING,
JOHN ARMSTRONG,
JAMES MAGEE,
J. DENNISON,
WILLIAM TAYLOR,
WILLIAM FITTO,
G. RENGERMANN,

G. TlERMAN,

CHARLES H. MORRISON,
JAMES W. FARR,
RICHARD T. EDWARDS,

ROB'T EDWARDS,
GEORGE STARR,
MAJOR W. EDWARDS,
GEO. W. BUSH,
GOVERNEUR M. CRIST,
JESSE TRAVIS,
EDWARD F. BROWN,
JACOB VARIAN,
MARK M. DOBSON,
EUGENE WARD,
SEWELL V. DODGE,
HENRY WILSON,
JOHN SHANNON,
GEO. W. BOGERT,
J. HENDERSON,
J. C. GREGORY,
WM. M. WHITNEY,
WM. H. VAN TASSEL,
THOS. F. DEVOE."

Mr. Raymond's reply was a stronger justification of himself
than that contained in the speech before quoted ; the personal
character of a correspondence giving him opportunity for
explanation. It is due to his memory that this letter should
be placed upon record : — it is also but a simple act of justice
for the reader to weigh carefully the reasons assigned by Mr.
Raj-mond for his course in Congress (especially in relation to
the Freedman's Bureau bill), and in the Philadelphia Conven-
tion. The letter was as follows : —

" NEW YORK, Saturday, Sept. 15, 1806.

" GEXTLEMEX : — I thauk you most heartily for the expression of regard
and confidence tendered to me as your Representative in Congress. I can-
not accept as deserved the compliments you pay me upon the manner in
which the duties of that position have been discharged; but I do accept, and
am very grateful for them, as evidences of the kindly interest with which
you have followed my course, and of the charitable construction you have
placed upon my acts. I am especially gratified by your appreciation of the
extreme difficulties of my position, and of the impossibility of meeting the
wishes and expectations of all classes of those who gave me their votes,
without sacrificing that independence of judgment and of action which alone
makes a seat in Congress either useful or desirable.

" When I was elected, in the fall of 1864. the war had not closed, but its
end was foreseen, and the question of restoring the Union had engaged a
large degree of public attention. President Lincoln, in the previous March,
had tende»-«d full amnesty and pardon to such of the inhabitants of the
States in rebellion, with certain specified exceptions, as would take an oath
of allegiance to the Constitution of the United States, aud to the laws of
Congress, and tftc ,uouuuiutic,u3 of the Executive on the subject of slavery

BAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 187

aud hud pledged himself to recognize and guarantee, as Republican in form,
any State Government which such inhabitants might set up, provided they
were in number one-tenth of the votes cast in such State at the election of
1860. In June, the National Union Convention at Baltimore adopted resolu-
tions substantially indorsing the principles upon which this action of the
President was based. My own position at the time of my nomination was
well understood. I had repeatedly declared, in speeches and from day to day
in the columns of the newspaper under my control, that I regarded the States as
still within the Union ; that the war had in no respect enlarged the authority
conferred upon Congress by the Constitution, and that the suppression of the re-
bellion would fully re-establish the supremacy of that fundamental law. . I was
elected upon this platform, and so far as I was aware no one questioned its
substantial accord with the sentiment of the Union party. When Mr. John-
son became President, after the close of the war, he made it the basis of his
official action, and set in motion the machinery of government in the Southern
States in conformity with its requirements. Aud the Union State Convention
held at Syracuse, in September. 18C5, passed a resolution approving his ac-
tion, indorsing the policy of kindness and conciliation out of which it grew,
and pledging to it their support.

" When I took my seat in Congress I endeavored to act in conformity with
these principles to which I was thus pledged. When a difference of opinion
arose between the President and Congress, I did all in my power to prevent its
growing into hostility, for I could see nothing but ruin to the Union party and
disaster to the country from such a breach between the two departments of the
government. I soon found myself separated in this course from the majority
of the Union party ; but as the differences did not seem to be vital, or to
touch principles upon which the party had ever pledged its members, I con-
tinued to ac,t upon my own convictions of justice and of public policy. I
voted and spoke always for the recognition of all the States as States in the
Union, — for recognizing as valid the State Governments organized within
them in conformity with the proclamations of Presidents Lincoln and John-
son,— and for completing the restoration of the Union by admitting to their
seats in Congress loyal members elected from loyal States, who could take
the oath prescribed by law, in conformity with what seemed to me the intent
and meaning of the Constitution of the United States. And to prevent any
intrusion into the preliminary action of Congress of men who could not take
the oath prescribed by law, I introduced a resolution instructing the Judiciary
Committee to report a bill changing the existing practice in regard to the
admission of members. At present any person whose name the clerk may
put upon the roll is permitted to vote for speaker, — the most important act
of the whole session, — even if he should refuse the next hour to take any
oath at all. I proposed to require every member to take the oath before
taking any part in the organization of the House. This, it seemed to me,
would afford a full and Miflicient safeguard against the admission into Con-
gress of men who had taken an active part in the rebellion. The resolution
passed the House; but the coinmittee did not see fit to report the bill.

"Upon incidental questions that arose during the session, I endeavored to
act with a wise regard to the public welfare. / r ••(< d for the Friedman's /•'«-
rcau Uill tchcn J'irnt i-ri'MittLd, because ldi.<'itu.d tin. olj<.<'t it sought to

1&8 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

namely, the protection, support, and care of the enfranchised slaves, to be of the
utmost importance. When it was returned by the President, I acquiesced in his
objections, mainly in consideration of the fact that the existing law would, not ex-
pire until April, 1867, and that the present Congress ivould have an opportunity,
after a more full experience of its operation, to take such action in regard to it as
that experience might show to be essential.

" The Civil Rights Bill, when presented in the form of a law, I did not sup-
port, because I believed, in common with Messrs. Biugham and Delano of
Ohio, Hale, of New York, and other able Union lawyers, all of whom spoke
against it, that some of its provisions were not warranted by the Constitu-
tion. But I introduced a bill to attain the same practical object by declaring
all persons born on the soil of the United States to be citizens thereof, and
entitled to the rights, privileges, and immunities of citizens, in courts of law
and elsewhere ; and when this provision was afterward presented as an
amendment to the Constitution, I gave it my support, in speeches and by my
vote.

" And when, after a delay which seemed to me utterly needless, and calcu-
lated only to excite public passion and embitter political feeling, the Recon-
struction Committee reported the Constitutional Amendment now pending in
the several States for ratification, I gave it my vote, as I had previously
supported every principle it embodied in various speeches during the ses-
sion. I think the main principles of that amendment eminently wise and
proper, and I trust it will be adopted by this State, and by enough others to
become part of the fundamental law. I think every native of the country
should be a citizen of the country; that the inequality of representation as
proportioned to voters now enjoyed by the South should be corrected;
that the prominent participants in the rebellion should not share for a time
at least in the Federal Government ; that the rebel debt should never be
recognized or paid; and that Congress should have power to make laws to
carry these provisions into effect.

" While I concurred with the Union party in Congress in supporting the
amendment in which thci^e principles were embodied, I differed from some
of them in thinking that it should be submitted to the free judgment of the
people in all the States, and that its adoption should not be made a condi-
tion precedent to the admission of any State into the Union, or of its repre-
sentatives into Coagress. I can find no authority for such a requirement in
the Constitution of the United States, and I do not feel at liberty, as a
member of Congress, to exercise a power not conferred by that fundamental
law

" 1 believ<-d at ihe outset ol tnc session that lenncssee and Arkansas were
loyal States; that they had loyal governments, republican in form, with loyal
State officers throughout ; that the Senators and Representatives they had
sent to Congress were loyal men, who could take the oath required by law ;
and that they ought to be admitted to their seats in cither Hou.se, if that
House should find, upon due inquiry, that they had been elected, returned,
and qualified according to law. I did all in my power to secure that result.
I believed that such action promptly taken would avert the peril, since be-
come so real and so disastrous, of a serious breach between the executive
and legislative departments of the government; and that it would, without In-

BAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 189

volving any risk of admitting unsafe or dangerous men into Congress, give
such an example to the other Southern States, as would encourage the sen-
timent of loyalty among their people, and bring them into accord, sooner or
later, with the sentiment and policy of the Union party.

" I continued my efforts in that direction, in Congress and out, so long as
I deemed them likely to be of the slightest service to the Union cause ; and,
as an important step toward that result, and toicard the re-establishment of a
common Union basis, upon which men of all sections could again unite in com-
mon efforts for the common good, I took part in a convention of delegates from
all the States, held at Philadelphia, in August last, and endeavored, in concert
with others, not without a gratifying degree of success, to secure 'the assent
of leading men from the Southern as well as from the Northern States, to
the principles decided by the war ; to the abandonment of the doctrine of
secession, to the extirpation of slavery, tne perpetual integrity of the Union,
the supremacy of the Constitution, the invalidity of all obligations incurred
in rebellion against the government, the inviolability of the public debt, and
the equal protection by law, and by equal access to courts of law, of all
the citizens of all the States, without distinction of race or color. I believed,
and still believe, that in this I was endeavoring to do a useful and patriotic work,
fully in harmony with the principles of the Union party. Nor in seeking to
promote such concert of action as should, while accomplishing these results,
also lead to the election of members of Congress favorable to the admission
of loyal men from loyal States, did I deem myself to be taking a course hos-
tile to any purpos'es or objects which that party has ever sought to attain.

" Whether the policy I have thus pursued was wise and just, or not, it is
for others rather than me to judge. I believed it at the time to be eminently
conducive to the peace and prosperity of the country. And I still thiuk,
that if the President and the Union majority in Congress could have agreed
upon the admission of representatives from loyal States, who can take the
oath required by law, they could also have agreed in support of the Consti-
tutional Amendment, and of such other measures as might be required to
satisfy the solicitous loyalty of the country, and re-establish its free institu-
tions upon a solid and permanent foundation. And if such an agreement
could still be reached, in spite of all that has occurred on both sides to exas-
perate public sentiment, I should not even yet despair that it might be fol-
lowed by such results.

" But the possibility of such concord of action between the President and
Congress grows more and more remote. The rash and intemperate action
by which leading men in Congress attempted to coerce or override the Pres-
ident has produced its legitimate results. The old contest between the
Union party which stood by the government in its struggle with the rebel-
lion, and the Democratic party which resisted and opposed it, is again
renewed. I am disappointed that the controversy should have taken this
shape. I hoped and believed that the differences of opinion, on the subject
of representation, which prevailed in the Union party, could be settled within
its own ranks, without involving the risk of bringing the Democratic party
again into power. Everything that I have done has been done in that hope
and to that end. In the face of evident and signal failure, I claim nothing for
ray action but a sincere purpose to promote the peace and harmony of the

190 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

whole country, by extending over the whole country and nationalizing the
principles established by the war. I acted according to my best judgment, —
confirmed by that of men to Whose wisdom and patriotic devotion to the pub-
lic, good I have been accustomed to defer during the whole of my public life.
If I erred in this I am consoled for my error by your kindly construction of
its motive, and by your recognition of some degree of independence as not
unbecoming your Representative in Congress.

" You have assumed, and with perfect justice, that I am now as I was
when elected two years ago, — as I have always been, and shall always re-
main,— a member of the Union party, holding the faith as declared, in its
conventions, seeking its welfare, and striving for advancement and reform,
in everything touching the public good, through its agency. With the Demo-
cratic party, as it has been organized and directed since the rebellion broke out,
Ihare nothing in common, and should regard it, and should regard its re-estab-
lished ascendency in the government of the country, State or national, as a
public calamity. There are no perils impending over the country which de-
mand resort to so desperate a remedy, or which can be averted by it; and I
have implicit faith that the people, while checking the excesses of rash and
extreme men in the Union party, will still commit to its hands the restora-
tion of the Union which its courage and devotion have saved.

" I am greatly obliged to you for your request that I would allow my name
to be used as a candidate for re-election. But there are many considerations
which would render this unwise. My past action does not command the ap-
proval of a large body among those who originally gave me their votes ; and
apart from such approval, so far as it can be had consistently with proper
independence of personal opinion, a seat in Congress ceases to have for me any
attraction, or to offer any opportunity for useful public service,' and I shall bfst
consult my oivn self-respect, as well as the sentiments of my constititcnts and the
interest of the Union cause, by withdrawing my name from the canvass altogether.
This involves no special sacrifice on my part, as I shall easily find opportuni-
ties, whether in office or out, for promoting Union principles, and for evinc-
ing my gratitude to you for the kindness and confidence with which you have
sustained my efforts hitherto.

" Very respectfully, your obedient servant,

" HENRY J. RAYMOND."

As a part of the history of the time, and also in explanation
of the bitter hostility which followed Mr. Raymond to his
grave, the editorial comments of the Tribune on the foregoing
letter should be preserved. Mr. Greeley, in ISGfi, repre-
sented the extreme Northern sentiment, and the Tribune wa?
the mouthpiece of the party which threw Mr. Raymond over-
board. The expression of that journal was, therefore, the
expression of the most relentless of Mr. Raymond's opponents.
While the War lasted, Mr. Greeley had counselled the necessity
of making peace with the rebels, and had fallen into a tremor

RAYMOND IN CONGRESS, ETC. 191

of apprehension in 1863 ; but when the sun again shone from
behind the cloud, he grew brave, and attacked Mr. Raymond in

the following terms : —

"MR. RAYMOND AGAIN WITH ITS.

" Mr. H. J. Raymond's elaborate letter declining a nomination to the For-
tieth Congress is before us ; and, if it were simply an apology for his coarse,
the Union party would cheerfully accept it. But, in attempting to excuse his
errors, Mr. Raymond aggravates them. He has chosen to rehearse his recent
career, when he might far better have left so delicate a matter alone. A par-
tial confession is worse than none.

•' That Mr. Raymond frequently voted in Congress with the Union party,
we know; and that is the very fact which made his subsequent opposition to
its principles a political crime. Had he been elected as a Copperhead, no one
could have complained that he acted as a Copperhead, and had Judas been
one of the Pharisees instead of one of the disciples, he would not be the
worst example that Presidents and Congressmen can follow. It will hardly
do to plead past fidelity to a party as an excuse for present treachery. Yet
this Mr. Raymond does without blushing. He voted for the Freedman's
Bureau Bill, because he believed its object of the utmost importance ; he sus-
tained the President's veto, because the existing law will not expire till 1867.
How easily an excuse is found when it is needed ! Mr. Ra3rn?ond, on the same
principle, voted for the Constitutional Amendment, affecting now to believe
its provisions necessary to the safety of the Union, and yet sought to obtain
the admission of the Rebel States without requiring that they should ratify
it. Did he not know that they would never ratify it, could they get back into
the Union without? We thought it was only Mr. Johnson who used the stul-
tifying argument that the Rebel States should have a voice in determining the
penalties of Rebellion, as if a criminal at the bar should also be a member of
the jury. The Constitutional Amendment owes Mr. Raymond nothing; but
its enemies are indebted to him for the direct encouragement he gave them at
the Philadelphia Convention. When his address declared that Congress had
no right to require its adoption of the Rebel States, he yielded the vital point
in the whole struggle.

" But Mr. Raymond's letter is more of a desultory narration than an argu-
ment, and need not be more closely followed. The gentlemen who offered
him the chance of a nomination complimented his statesmanship before they
had read his reply, or they might have been more chary of their praise.
Statesmen rarely vote for a bill, ami then to sustain a veto thereof, and the
country lias not yet forgotten that, in 186-t, Mr. Raymond opposed the Consti-
tutional Amendment abolishing slavery, on the ground that it would divide
the Union party. That was the grand measure that recreated it, and placed
it high above all danger of dissolution. His present re;: rets that the party is
divided are unnecessary; for the desertion of Mr. Johnson and his car-load
can scarcely constitute a division, even in the opinion of their warmest
admirers. That he believes the success of the Democratic party \v>u
national calamity, we are glad to know, and only wish that he had tl;

192 HENEY J, RAYMOND AND THE NEW YOIiK PKESS.

so when he tried to secure Gen. Dix's nomination at Albany. Finally, in the
enumeration of his reasons for declining a nomination for Congress in the
Sixth District, we are compelled to think he has omitted the most potent, —
that he had not the slightest chance of getting it.

" Yet we rejoice, for his sake as well as the country's, that Mr. Raymond's
unquestioned talents and industry are henceforth to be employed to sustain
and strengthen the great and patriotic party he so recently sought to destroy.
Of that party, the Republic has still urgent need; nor will its mission be com-
plete till the full rights of citizenship are secured to every native and every
naturalized citizen of the United States, and from the St. John to the Rio
Grande, from the Bay of Fundy to Pnget's Sound, there shall be no degraded
caste, no unfranchised people, but the rights of the whole American people
shall have been forever placed under the protection and safeguard of the
votes of each and all."

A careful comparison of Mr. Raymond's letter with the
hostile criticism upon it, shows, on the one hand, that while
Raymond was actuated by motives unquestionably pure, his
natural tendency to temporize led him into acts more merciful
than just ; and, on the other hand, that the very frankness of
his admissions, and the earnestness of his apology, were re-
ceived with derisive mirth by those who exulted over his polit-
ical downfall. If there was error on one side, there were also
discourtesy and injustice on the other. Acknowledgment of a
fault is, by common courtesy, accepted as the end of contro-
versy ; but, in the case of Mr. Raymond, his enemies refused
him even this grace.

OUT OF POLITICS, AND BACK TO JOURNALISM. 193

CHAPTER XIX.

OUT OF POLITICS, AND BACK TO JOURNALISM.

MR. RAYMOND'S WITHDRAWAL FROM PUBLIC LIFE, AND HIS RETURN TO EDITO-
RIAL DUTY DEPARTURE FOR EUROPE IN 1867 A FAREWELL DINNER

LETTER FROM REV. HENRY WARD BEECHER SPEECHES BY MR. DANA AMD-
MR. ROOSEVELT— A JINGLE OF RHYME SPEECH BY MR. RAYMOND — I III

PRESS DINNER TO CHARLES DICKENS — MR. RAYMOND'S SPEECH — INCREASED-
VALUE OF THE TIMES.

AT the close of the Thirty-Ninth Congress, Mr. Raymond
returned to New York, to resume his duties as Editor of the
Times. That paper had become exceedingly profitable, -
partly through the personal exertions of Mr. Raymond in a
period of sixteen years, and partly through the energy and
well-directed skill of its publisher, Mr. George Jones.*
Under all circumstances, it had been a good newspaper : and
even at the time when Mr. Raymond himself suffered tempo-
rary eelipsc, inconsequence of his political mistakes, its read-
ers looked to it for early intelligence of the actions and the
thoughts of the world. The work upon the Times, regarded
simply as newspaper labor, was uniformly good : — its Editor
fell into errors of opinion, and his editorial utterances were
sometimes distasteful to his friends ; l)ut the paper suffered no
losses, so severe as those which had previously been inflicted.

*In the chapter entitled " The Foundation of the New York Times," men-
tion has been made of the earlier financial relations of Mr. Jones and Mr.
Raymond. It is proper to add that a lonjj; and close personal friendship had
preceded their partnership; and that their mutual confidence ami r.
continued unimpaired until the hour of Mr. Raymond's death. Mr. Join1* i^
a native of Vermont, and lias hem actively en.^aijed in business, chiefly in
Albany and New York, since the year 1833. His capacity, integrity, and
experience have been of untold value to the Times.
13

194 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

through similar causes, upon its older contemporaries. At
last, convinced of the errors into which he had been led, Ray-
mond relinquished the pursuit of political honors forever, when
he had finished his term of office as a Representative in Con-
gress, and went back to the office of the Times, — once more
u journalist, never again to be a politician. Unhappily for
himself, and unhappily for his friends, his days were already
numbered. •

Exhausted by his long and exciting struggle in the political
field, worn by anxiety and chagrin, and yearning for rest, he
resolved to pass a few months in Europe in the companionship
of his family, whose members had been domiciled in Paris for
several years. On the eve of his departure, in the earl}' sum-
mer of 1867, he was tendered the compliment of a farewell din-
ner, by a large number of his fellow-journalists and others.
The banquet was given at the Athenaeum Club House in Xo\v
York, and Mr. Charles A. Dana presided. Reverend Henry
Ward Beecher, unable to attend, sent the following graceful
letter : —

" PEKKSKILL, Thursday, July 11, 1867.
" HON. CHARLES A. DANA :

" DEAR SIR : — It would give me pleasure, if I were in town, to accept your
invitation to a dinner in honor of Mr. Raymond, before his departure for
Europe.

" His services to the country during the great struggle which has changed
the history of this nation were such as to entitle him to the gratitude of every
patriot. I shall not forget the dark periods of that struggle, and I know who
they were who animated the courage of our citizens, who, without wavering,
maintained hope of a favorable result, and labored intelligently and bravely
for it.

" The first critical per'od was that between the election of Mr. Lincoln and
his inauguration, when e^ery effort was made to intimidate the Republican
party, and to induce them to relinquish, by a base compromise, the advan-
tage gained by the verdict of the people, after a fair and unexampled canvass.
Our second dark period extended between the first battle of Bull Run and the
battle of Gettysburgh.

" I desire to express to Mr. Raymond my gratitude for his firmness, sag.io-
ity, and uudeviating courage through these trying periods. Courage i
now. The whole world is at our back. Then the world was against us ;
defeats lowered, and victories lingered. Courage then was worth arms and
armed men to a cause which was to triumph only through much tribulation

OUT OF POLITICS, AND BACK TO JOURNALISM. 195

" I beg you to convey to Mr. Raymond the expression of my esteem, and
my best wishes for his prosperous voyage and speedy return.
" I am truly yours,

" HENRY WARD BEECHER."

After the reading of this letter, speeches were delivered by
several gentlemen ; Mr. Dana leading with a toast in honor of
Mr. Raymond, and dwelling with great felicity upon the varied
public services of the guest of the evening. Mr. Dana recurred
to the period of his first introduction to Mr. Raymond, which
had taken place more than twenty years before, in a lumbered
and dusty attic in Ann Street (No. 30) . The attic was the
editorial office of the Tribune, and the person who gave the
introduction was Horace Greeley. "I remember," said Mr.
Dana, "that first meeting with Mr. Raymond very well. I
remember that we sat down together, and at once plunged
into a long talk on German philosophy and metaphysics ; for
we were both younger and nearer our college days at that time
than we are at present."

Continuing in a vein of anecdotic reminiscence, Mr. Dana,
in a peculiarly happy manner, adverted to the uniform kindness
and courtesy of Mr. Raymond's intercourse with those he met,
and paid the highest meed of praise to the services of the Times
and its chief, to the nation in its hours of peril and darkness,
to the State in its days of embarrassment and turmoil, and to
the city of New York at all times when good counsel, sincere
advice, and judicious guidance were the greatest need.

Mr. Raymond responded briefly, confining his remarks to a
modest recognition of the kindness manifested by the chairman
and the circle whose guest lie was, and expressed the deepe.-t
appreciation of the compliment intended and conveyed by the
demonstration of the evening, — a demonstration the more
acceptable, because it came from friends, associates, and
fellow-citizens of lonir standing and closest connection.

Brief addresses were then made by Mr. Theodore Tilton,
Editor of the J)if/c/>eii</i'>/{ ; Lieutenaiit-( Jovernor Wood ford :
Mr. J. F. Bailey; "Private Miles (VKeilly" (Charles <;. Hal-
pine, since dead) ; Mr. Robert B. Roosevelt, and others. Mr.

196 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Roosevelt sang a parting song. "To Raymond on his
Travels," * and then he proceeded to compliment Mr. Raymond

*"TO EAYMOND ON HIS TEAVELS.
(AlR : Jeannette and Jeannot.)

" Oh, your boat is at the pier,

And your passage has been paid,
But before you go, ray dearest dear,

Accept this serenade !
For with friendliness we burn,

And rejoicing come the rhymes
To toast the health and safe return
Of him who rules the Times, —
To toast the health and safe return
Of him who rules the Times.

" If we all could get away

From this town of cares and frets,
To wander round the Elysees,
And kiss the gay grisettes ;
Such skedaddling there would be

As was never known before ;
Ten thousand steamers out at sea,
And not a man on shore ! —
Ten thousand steamers out at sea,
And not a man on shore !

" But oh ! delusive dream,

For us no chance remains !
Mere drudges of the desk we seem,
With dull and throbbing brains ;
But, though we must stay at home

To earn the painful dimes,
Let us all rejoice that he can roam, —
Our brother of the Times I
Let us all rejoice that he can roam, —
Our brother of the Times I

" Oh, safely may he sail,

And safely sail he back !
His virtue, like a proof-of-mail,

To ward off each attack !
No beauty of the Boulevard
Or nymph of other climes
To win even half a thought's regard
From him who rules the Times I
To win even half a thought's regard
From him who rules the Times I

" Were I Marble of the World,

Or young Bennett debonair,
Do you think I'd see his sails unfurled

And not his voyage share ?
By this wine-cup in my hand,

By my hope of famous rhymes,

OUT OP POLITICS, AND HACK TO JOURNALISM. 197

on the invariably conservative and steady tenor of his views ;
and said that in particular he desired to thank him on behalf
of the property holders of our country for the scathing and
superbly logical exposures and denunciations of agrarian am1.
Fourierite-socialistic views which had been recently promul-
gated, in the far West, by Senator Wade, of Ohio. It was
time, said Mr. Roosevelt, that the agrarian and revolutionary
follies should be checked. It was time that no man capable of
"stirring up strife between these two great natural allies, capital
and labor, should continue to be honored with the confidence
of the American people. There were so many thousands, how-
ever, of the landless and thriftless whose votes could be secured
by this species of demagogism that he thanked the Times and
its Editor with all his heart, and all the tendcrest sympathies
and emotions of his breeches-pocket, for the frank, fearless, and
able stand which had been taken in that paper against the first
authoritative exposition of these chaotic and atrocious doc-
trines. He thanked Mr. Raymond for the conservative ten-
dencies which could not see in the addition of four millions of
ignorant blacks to our voting population any certain or assured
blessing, or any additional guaranty for the security of our
national debt.

Mr. Raymond thanked Mr. Roosevelt for the intended com-
pliment expressed, but declined to accept the greater part, for
it was, in his own judgment, undeserved. While correetin^
Mr. Roosevelt's errors, also, he desired'that his answer should
cover certain allusions to the " Conversatism " of the Times
which had been made by Mr. Tilton. Mr. Raymond said the
current talk concerning " Conservatism " and " Radicalism "
was fast degenerating into a new kind of political cant. It
was to be supposed that all good men had the best interests of
the country at heart ; but different methods and seasons oc
curred to different men as the best for accomplishing their
common object. It was a question of time, rather than of

My foot should quit Manhattan strand
With him who rules tin- Tim<-*! —

My foot should quit Manhattan strand
With him who rules the Tiniest"

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

principle. Some men were in favor of sending a locomotive
at high pressure after the political millennium, to harness up
tc H, and bring it along at seventy miles per hour, with a little
colored boy seated on the engine's safety-valve. For himself,
he could afford to be more patient. There were few things in
the world- worth impatience, and still fewer worth anger.
There were few desirable objects that could be . promoted by
the introduction or agency of these passions. No differences
of political opinion should ever, in the speaker's judgment, be
allowed to interfere with social relations ; and it was one of
the bad signs of the days in which we live, that even so intelli-
gent and worthy a gentleman as his friend, the editor of the
Independent, could condescend to claim credit for not allowing
divergences of opinion, honestly entertained, to be passed as
a sponge over the erased and blotted tablet of a friendship
which the speaker had prized and should always value.

There was far too much heat in the discussions of our day,
continued Mr. Raymond ; too little charity for the judgment of
others; too great an inclination to "reconstruct,"- — not the
Southern States, however, but the bed of a political Procrustes
in this country of once free thought ; a bed into which every
candidate for public favor or confidence must fit his pliant
limbs, or suffer the torment of a rack that would force the re-
luctant trunk and members into the exact length and breadth
of the moral and intellectual torture-couch. He was free to
say that many measures now extolled by certain men as "un-
speakable blessings," and as the " salvation of the country in
her late peril," still seemed to him to wear an experimental
character, from which he hoped the best, and would endeavor
to make the best by every energy of his nature ; but which he
must still decline to regard as other than very hazardous ex-
periments. When we shall have attained our best, when we
have our whole system exactly fitted to suit our views, we shall
all, if reasonable men, desire to "conserve" that system; we
shall be all "conservative." At the very worst, therefore, in
a few years, if their views be right, the "Radicals" of to-day
will have reached a point at which the full fruition of their
aims must compel them to join the ranks of the now despised

OUT OF POLITICS, AND BACK TO JOURNALISM.

"Conservatives." As to the speech of Senator Wade, to which
Mr. Koosevelt has so strongly referred, he desired to be un-
derstood as having only criticised the propositions of that
speech as reported, while at the same time feeling for the gen-
eral eharaeter and capacities of Mr. Wade only the profound-
est respect. That speech, delivered in Kansas, had been re-
ported by Mr. Seymour, of the 2V/«e.s, and not until long after
Mr. \Vade had .seen it in print was there any disclaimer of the
report. In fact, it was not to the report that Mr. Wade ob-
jected, but to the interpretation placed on certain of its pas-
sages in his (Mr. Raymond's) editorial remarks thereupon. To
this interpretation Mr. Wade had very strongly objected,
utterly disclaiming any such views; and with him (Mr. Ray-
mond) this disclaimer was as final an abnegation of the hasty
and ill-considered words as though they had never been ut-
' I, That the report was correct in letter and spirit, none
present who know Mr. Seymour could doubt. But at the same
time, though Mr. Wade had not possessed many advantages of
education in his youth, there did not then sit in the Senate,
and he would even go so far as to question whether there
ever had sat there, any gentleman of warmer patriotism, or
holding a more disinterested desire' for his country's good. To
speak of Mr. Wade as one likely to encourage such agrari-
anism, or Fourierite-socialism, as Mr. Roosevelt had described,
would be only to proclaim ignorance of the 'man's whole char-
acter. He was an humble artisan in early lite, who had accu-
mulated capital and property by honest industry, and who,
then-tore, must lie opposed to any scheme for plunging back
this continent into universal chaos.

Indeed, Mr. K'ayniond continued, there was less fear of
Mirrarianism making headway here than any where else on earth.
We eU'ectually block it by the facilities g'nen to every laboring
man or mechanic to join the ranks of the men holding capital
and property. H'-tween labor and capital, in this happy land,
the partition is not much thicker or stronger than a .-licet of
perforated tissue-paper. Atoms from each side are constantly
passing back and forth ; now a labor-atom from this ,-ide
working its way over to the property-aide ; and now a prop-

200 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

erty-atom, in the absence of any feudal laws of entail or primo-
geniture, gradually gliding back through the perforations of
improvidence into the ranks of the laboring and unproportioiied
poor.

As to his own career in Congress, he could only plead for
himself that he had conscientiously striven to discharge his
duty according to the best lights given to him by his Creator.
On many points he could not agree with his former associates
in political opinion ; and it is a bitter and unpleasant position
for any one to be compelled to fill, when, under the stress of a
deep and earnest conviction, he has to fight with former friends,
rather than along with them and against old foes. Such as
his Congressional career had been, however, it at least thor-
oughly satisfied him of his unfitness for that particular form of
public life, — at least in such times as these, or until more
moderate and charitable counsels shall prevail ; and it had like-,,
wise conferred on him the benefit of sending him back to his

editorial sanctum thoroughly cured of any ambition for public
life ; and thoroughly satisfied that, for him, the happiest, most
powerful, most remunerative, and most useful position must
be -found in the control of such a paper as his friend Mr.
Jones had so largely aided to build up for their joint use and
profit, and that of their associates, in the New York Times.

Mr. Raymond made a pleasant and profitable sojourn in
Europe, regaining strength, and reviving cheerful memories.
A few months sufficed to restore to his frame its customary
vigor, and to his mind its wonted flow. He returned to his
desk in the office of the Times, restored to full health, and
prepared to devote himself to his profession with an ardor not
less vehement, because it had for a time been diverted into
other channels.

In the winter of 1867-08, Charles Dickens made his second
brief visit to the United States; and on the evening of Sat-
urday, the 18th of April, 1868, the members of the Press in
Xe\v York gave him a farewell dinner. At this dinner Mr.
Kaymond delivered the following admirable speech, in re-
sponse to a toast to " The New York Press : " —

OUT OF POLITICS, AND BACK TO JOURNALISM. 201

" MR. PKESIPEXT AND GKNTI.KMKX : — It seems to me, as I have no doubt it
will seem to every one of you, that the Press of America ought to respond, at
this moment, through some appropriate organ, to the noble and generous
.sentiments expressed by our guest to-night. I have no commission, and no
claim, and no right to speak for the Press of the United States. [A voice,
• Yes. you have.'] I am here official!)', and only officially, to speak for a sec-
tion, a segment, of that great Press. [' No ! No !'] but on behalf of that sec-
tion, and I think with the assent of the whole l're>s with which that section
is so closely, so constantly, so intimately, and so proudly connected, I may
say that we deem it an honor to us, the Press of New York and the Press of
America, that we have had an opportunity to greet 011 this occasion the guest
who sits at my left hand. [• Bravo ! Bravo !']

" The Press of New York, from its geographical position, to say nothing
else, maintains a quasi prominence among the Press of the country. That
1'ros lias maintained an independent existence, not only in itself, but through
its organization. For many years (if I may say many in speaking of the few
years during which I have been connected with it) it has had an organi-
/ation in form as a Press Club; and it is among the most pleasant of my
recollections in connection with the Press of New York that in that form
of organization it has been our good fortune, at various times, to greet as
guests, and to entertain, with whatever hospitality we were able to extend
to them, gentlemen of distinction and position, who did us the honor to visit
u,s from the countries of Europe. I remember almost the first of those occa-
sions, when that truly great man, then recently expelled from the office of
Governor of Hungary, Kossuth, the exile [Applause] came to this country,
•charmed so many of our people by the sea-shore, and in the depths of the
densest wilderness of the West, and in great cities, and everywhere he went,
by the silver voice in which he uttered s«uch sweet words in behalf of liberty
and freedom, and by that sad, solemn eye with which, as our eloquent orator,
llufus Choate, lias said ' he seemed constantly to be beholding the sad pro-
cession of unnamed demigods who had died for their native land.' He was
one of the most honored guests of the New York Press. Then came to us,
and honored us by his presence, as he has honored England and the world by
his services, that great statesman whom your people, sir [turning to Mr.
Dickens], now honor as they honor few among their dead or their living, —
Richard Cobden. [Great applause.] Then, too, came to us, and greeted us
with the right hand of brotherhood, your great brother in literature, William
M. Thackeray. [Renewed applause.] And I may say that of the many things
that touched the hearts of our people, none touched them more nearly, or
struck home more closely, than the feeling and eloquent words of the heart
in which he spoke to us of his brother in letters, Charles Dickens. [Great
cheering.]

" We did not need, sir, that he should tell us how much that name was
cherished hy the lovers of humanity all over the world, wherever the English
tongue was spoken or read ; but he never said one word in praise of that
name that did not meet with as hearty a response here as human words ever
brought from human hearts. He told us then, what was true then, and what
has been growing more and more true r-ver since, that the writings of that
illustrious brother of his in the world of letters had done more than ai.y

202 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

other event or occurrence, more than any other service which he could call
to mind, to make the men of the world feel that they were brothers, that they
had common interests, that they were all sons of one father, striving and
marching toward one end, and that each deserved and ought to have the love,
the sympathy, the cordial good offices and kiuclly feeling of every other
[Applause.] These, sir, are among the felicities of the New York Press.
The Press of other parts of the country have enjoyed them also to a greater
or less extent, and I know they have all sympathized with the feelings which
pervaded our hearts at our good fortune in meeting such men, and hearing
them speak such words of brotherly kindness and love. The President, the
honorable, the distinguished, and the honored President, on this occasion,*
[Applause] has spoken in words which I know came from his heart, as they
reached all our hearts, of the service rendered the cause of humanity by our
guest this evening.

" We are all laboring in a common cause'. I think it may be truly said that
the Press, the free Press, all over the world, has but one common mission, —
to elevate humanity. It takes the side of the humble, the lowly, and the poor
— always of necessity, a necessity of its own existence — as against those
who from mere position and power hold in their hands the destinies of the
lowly and the poor, for whom the Press is instituted. We are all of us more
or less directly, more or less exclusively, connected with the movements of
governments, — governments of various forms, in different parts of the
world, and through different agencies and ways, in that common effort to ele-
vate the great mass of our fellow-men, to improve their material condition,
and give them a higher ground to stand upon, and a stronger foot to go
through the weary task that all of us, in some degree, have to undergo before
we fulfil our pilgrimage here on earth. But it often strikes me, when I think
of the labors of governments, and the labors of those who try to aid govern-
ments, and when I contrast them with the fruits of the efforts, and the ma-
chinery through which literary men labor for the same common end, — it
often strikes me how coarse and rude and ineffective is the whole machinery
of government to accomplish the great end of elevating humanity.

"It is not through machinery, it is not through organizations, through
forms, through constraints, through laws, that we touch the real springs of
human action. [Applause.] It is not through those agencies that we learn
what it is that elevates humanity, what it is that purifies it, what it is that
brings all men to think themselves brothers, and to act toward each other as
brothers. It is those who deal with the secret springs of actions who,
through the channels of fiction or of congenial and sympathetic human his-
tory, touch the springs of the human heart, and make us feel as well as con-
vince our intellects; it is those who do most to carry the world on to what
we all believe to be its ultimate destination. [Applause.] And certainly in
the Press, or out of the Press, in the government, or out of the government,
nowhere on the face of the earth, in any form or in any shape, or through
any agency, have there lived many men — I might make it stronger, if I did
not dislike to appear extravagant — have there lived many men who have
touched so nearly the secret springs of action and of character of the human

* Horace Greeley.

OUT OF POLITICS, AND BACK TO JOURNALISM. 203

heart, and have done so much in that way to bring about that unanimity of
human feeling, that cordiality of human brotherhood, as the distinguished
guest whom we have here to-night. Everything that he has ever written —
I say it without the slightest exception of a single book, a single page, or a
single word that has ever preceded from his pen— has been calculated to
infuse into every human heart the feeling that every man was his brother,
and that the highest duty he could do to the world, and the highest pleasure
he could confer upon himself, aud the greatest service he could render to
humanity, was to bring that other heart, whether high or low, as close to his
own as possible. [Applause.] What he has accomplished in that way, — how
many human hearts he has thus brought together, — how much of kind feeling
he has infused throughout society, among all men, of all classes, high aud
low, rich and poor, powerful and weak, — how much he has done to infuse into
them all the spirit of brotherhood, I know too well the poverty of any lan-
guage I could use to attempt to describe. [Applause.] But I know that
there is not a man here, and there is not a man who has known any man
here, who knows anything of his writings, who has made himself familiar
with their spirit, or has yielded to their influence, who has not been made
thereby a better as well as a wiser, and prouder, aud kiuder, nobler man.
[Loud cheering.]

"Excuse the prolixity into which I seem to be runuiug. I will not prolong
my remarks. I only desire to return thanks, on behalf of the New York
Press, for the compliment which has been paid it by the assembled Press of
the United States. [' Go on ! Go on 1'] I think I may fairly claim that the
New York Press, — and I know no higher claim that I could put in for it here
to-night than this, — that the New York Press from the very beginning, from
the time when words first dropped from the pen of our illustrious guest, the
New York Press has appreciated them, aud I may add, appropriated them
[Laughter], and that the fruits thereof are apparent in some of the changes,
the improvements, the advances, which he has been good enough to speak
of here to-night. We all know his characters. They seem like persons.
We cherish them as friends. I feel as well acquainted with some of them, —
yes, a great deal better acquainted with some of them, than I do with many
of the men whom I meet here on the streets every day of my life. I know I
have derived more good from some of them than from any, or at least many,
of the friends whom I meet every day. They do everybody good, for they
are always cheerful, always hopeful, always earnest, always kind to every
one ; and, in spite of all we may claim for our Republican institutions and
our equality of rights, humanity in this country — I say it fearlessly — owes
more of its substantial advances to the writings of Mr. Dickens than even to
the Press of New York. [Laughter and applause.] His is a kind of public
service, which is done without consciousness, and sometimes without intent.
Such a man writes what he knows of men, and what he writes addresst •< it-
self to all men. It reaches their hearts, and through their hearts governs
their conduct ; and that is the only government of conduct worth a straw
anywhere. [Applause.] I think often of these things in connection with the
noble lines of one of our own poets, speaking of the unconscious work done
oy the great architect of Rome, in the building of St. Peter's; and if you will
allow me to quote those lines (and I am sure you will thank me for substi

204 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

tuting them for anything that I could say myself), I will close therewith. I
mean that beautiful passage in Emerson where he says : —

" ' The hand that rottnded Peter's dome,
And groined the aisles of Christian Borne,
Wrought with a sad sincerity.
Himself from God he could not free,
He builded better than he knew;
The conscious stone to beauty grew.'"

After this, Mr. Raymond seldom appeared in public. Re-
sisting every allurement again to turn aside from his profes-
sion, he devoted all his energy to the Times; and that journal,
under his constant, watchful, and judicious supervision, rapidly
gained in circulation, influence, and prosperity. Its shares,
nominally valued at one thousand dollars, rose to the value
of eleven thousand dollars each ; and an offer for the pur-
chase of its good-will and its real property for the sum of one
million dollars was unanimously rejected by its proprietors at
the beginning of the year 1869. Never, in the whole course
of its history, had the Times been so prosperous.

But, through one of the mysterious dispensations of the
Divine Will which no mortal can hope to fathom, in a moment
the guiding spirit was removed.

RESIDENCE OF MR. RAYMOND, 12 WEST NINTH STREET,
n.. *w«.«i, PI*,,,,. NEW YORK,— THE PLACE WHERE HE DIED.

DEATH. 205

CHAPTER XX.

DEATH.

SUDDEN DEATH OP MR. RAYMOND — TRIBUTES TO HIS MEMORY — HIS ENEMIES
CONFESSING THEIR ERROR.

WHEN the skies were brightening, prosperity increasing, and
the future giving brilliant promise, Mr. Raymond was sud-
denly stricken down by Death.

Returning to his residence in West Ninth Street at about twelve
o'clock on the night of Friday, the 18th of June, 1869, an
attack of apoplexy prostrated him in a moment. Two hours
later, his stertorous breathing attracted the attention of one
of his children. The alarmed family, hastening to assist him,
tbund him lying in the hall- way, unconscious, and apparently
dying. He had locked the outside door, and closed the inner
one. The most eminent medical aid was summoned ; but he
remained unconscious, and died tranquilly about five o'clock in
the morning.

Thus ended the earthly life of Henry J. Raymond.

The announcement of his sudden death evoked a unanimous
expression of regret. Cut off in the flower of his days, when
his position had become assured, when the rewards of his long
wrestle with fortune had been obtained, when a career of dig-
nity and usefulness seemed to be opening before him in the
profession to which he had determined to devote the remainder
of his life, the abrupt ending of his work produced a shock.
He had just entered upon his fiftieth year. His frame was hardy.
if not robust, and his ireneral health had not been undermined
by chronic disorders. He had effected new arrangements in the
a Hairs of the Times, through which it was intended to give that
journal increased strength and value. His domestic life had

206 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

resumed a pleasant aspect, by the reunion of its scattered
members after several years' sojourn in Europe. All promise
seemed fair; sound health, serene mind, abundant means, the
return of children from whom he had long been separated, —
all these were his sources of enjoyment, the solacing comforts
which Providence had apparently bestowed in compensation
for years of poverty, of anxious struggle, and of persevering
thrift and industry.

But one heavy sorrow had fallen upon him, in this time
of prosperity and hope, in the death of his younger son,
Walter Jarvis, who had suddenly been taken away,* in the
fifteenth year of his age.

On the 18th of June, Mr. Raymond, accompanied by
his daughter, visited the grave of this child in Greenwood
Cemetery. The thought did not enter his mind that he him-
self was never to see another day on earth. That night he
died.

On the morning of the 19th of June, the Times appeared in
mourning for the loss of its Chief; and the following touching
tribute, from the pen of one of the editors of that journal who
had long been drawn to Mr. Raymond by the closest ties of
personal friendship, gave eloquent expression to the general
feeling of sorrow : —

"OUK DECEASED FRIEND AND CHIEF.

" The Times has suddenly lost its founder, who was also its Editor-in-Chief
t.o the clay of his death.

"The grief that overwhelms his associates, as well as the members of his
family circle, it were in vain, as it were out of place, to attempt to dwell
upon here.

" Mr. Raymond's relation to journalism and politics during the last quarter
of a century is known sufficiently well to make it unnecessary for the present
writer to say much on this point. Entering into a journalistic career in early
life, and at a time when the power and importance of the American Press
were far less than what they are now, he at once took a leading part in
elevating its position and enlarging its influence. All his vivacity, enterprise,
energy, and genius were brought to his editorial duties, — and so were his
skill, knowledge of aftairs, and scholarship. With great original powers,
which were enlarged and cultivated not only by collegiate studies, but by

* February 27, 1869.

DF.ATJI. 207

literary research and extensive inquiry, — with a fresh and original style of
thought and expression, — with tin- most remarkable intellectual equipoise
and self-command, — with the noblest of motives and highest of aims, — lie
applied his life to journalism. It Is beyond o"ur power to estimate how
greatly his editorial labors have influenced public opinion, the public Press,
and the conduct of public affairs; but we believe that the scope and measure
of his influence, as well as its beneficent character and results, have been
worthy of journalism in the most exalted view of its purpose. In his more
direct connection with legislation and the affairs of State he displayed the
same characteristics as appeared in his editorial course. Though youthful in
years when elected to the Legislature (of which he was chosen Speaker), and
subsequently to the Lieutenant-Governorship (which made him President of
the Senate), he soon showed himself possessed of extraordinary ability as a
parliamentarian, debater, and administrator. Always ready, always temper-
ate, always self-possessed, always clear-headed and sagacious, always coura-
geous, always of the most perfect integrity and honor, political as well as
]n Tsonal. always free from petty ambition, and incapable of petty or selfish
intrigue, always magnanimous and generous, always the true gentleman, —
he stood in the foreground of State politics, and showed himself worthy of
his place. In later years, when iu Congress, with more matured powers and
larger experience, he approached, with statesmanship, the great questions of
the day ; and though, at that time, our politics were characterized by the
wildest party excitement, and the bitterest personal exacerbations, he never
lost his independence, his courage, or his temper. For conciliation between
the warring faction? of the party, — for conciliation between the yet warring
sections of the country, — for conciliation between the administrative and
legislative branches of the government, — he labored constantly and pleaded
eloquently and earnestly. As one of the founders of the Republican party,
and one of its foremost leaders, — as one of the ablest and stanchest uphold-
ers of the government during the war, — he sought to subserve the party's
interests ; but, still more, he sought to subserve the country's interests, by
fhe adoption of a policy of magnanimity toward the South which should
again bring together the whole American people in the ancient bonds of
union, fraternity, and glory. It is not for us at this time, or for any man at
this time, to estimate the value of his course; but certain we are, that it was
inspired by the highest sentiments, and the noblest motives that ever led any
man, or any statesman, to earnest labor for the service of his country.

"But it was not the present purpose to attempt anything like a judgment
or an enloginm of the public career of our deceased friend and chief. We
would rather say a word of him as he was intimately known to us in the re-
lation of chief and friend. A more genial or attractive manhood, a bettor
rounded character, a warmer and truer friend, a more sympathetic and kindly
nature, or one more generous and just, we never knew. Amid all the trials
of editorial lif.-. lie never lost his suavity of disposition. To all his a-
ates and subordinates, whether those employed by his side or tin-
gaged in the humbles duties of the establishment, he was invariably a:.
and considerate; kindly studying their interests, delicately I
feelings, and aiding in their advancement as though they were members of
his own household. So even and perfect was his temper, that but the other

208 HENRY J. RAYMOND A5»D THE NEW YORK PRESS.

day he referred, as if it were a serious fault, to the fact that he was ' never
in a passion in his life, and never had seen anything in the world that it was
worth while to get angry about.' His friendships were close and abiding.
To the day of his death he retained the friends of his youth, and amid all
the vicissitudes of life and circumstance, of parties and politics, of personal
fortune or public position, he never permitted aught to interfere with his
esteem for those to whom he had once been attached. His sympathetic gen-
erosity toward the needy and friendless will be best appreciated by those who
were its objects; but we may say that only those who knew him well could
credit his long-suffering patience, through years and years, with the innu-
merable-applicants for his help and bounty. Pleasant are the many memories
which now gather around him ; but pleasautest of all are the memories of
his charities and his beneficence and his goodness. Nor did his sympathetic
humanity merely assume a personal direction. For all the struggles of the
oppressed and down-trodden, for all the efforts of the laboring classes, or of
the still poorer and more helpless classes, to elevate themselves or improve
their lot in life, — he had a lively and earnest interest. Let there be an ap-
peal to the higher feelings of man's nature, in behalf of any object which his
judgment approved, and his response was quick. Not only were his mental
faculties balanced in the most marvellous manner, but the balance between
his intellect and his feelings was still more remarkable. In forming judg-
ments on questions of public policy, his faculties of perception, reason,
causation, and relation, instantly ranged themselves for the task; and in com-
ing to conclusions on questions of right and humanity, his heart was ready
as his thought, but quicker and more active in its movements. The result
of this perfect balance, in its twofold order, was just instinct and just con-
duct; justice in his own life and in his relations with his fellow-men. No
consideration whatever could ever sway him from the course of integrity
and honor. As a journalist, no man ever dared approach him with a corrupt
or dishonest proposition. He was as incapable of being reached by the
temptations of place and power as by the vulgar temptation of lucre. Ir<
journalism, he sought success only by the ways of honesty and justice.
Through the very simplicity and transparency of his nature, lie was fre-
quently misunderstood ; and circumstances were often thought to be the
result of his designs when he was even unaware of the means by which they
were brought about. Those who best knew his life and character know
that he was utterly incapable of even conceiving anything in the shape of
what is called a scheme, either political or personal ; and lie often smiled at
hearing that he had set in motion the intricate machinery that had brought
about projects of whose origin and very existence he was unconscious. In
fact, we never knew a man more completely guileless, or whose life and
character better illustrated the virtues of a true and ingenuous manhood.

"His conversation with those to whom he was attached had a wonderful
charm. In youth he had been a close student of literature and philosophy :
he had enjoyed opportunities of extensive travel; lie had possessed the ac-
quaintance and friendship of many of the most distinguished men in this and
other countries; and he had the peculiarly valuable knowledge of affairs
which is only acquired by intimate relations with them. Though, of late
years, he occasionally showed some impatience with metaphysical specula-

DEATH. 209

tions, he always sought to grasp the principle that lay at the foundation of
the actual or the apparent, and his logical habit demanded the reason and
the sequence of whatever presented itself. Hence his conversation was sin-
gularly rich and attractive; and, at times of quiet and leisure, his monologues
would, unconsciously to himself, assume the shape of closely concati •;.
admirably illustrated discourses. Humor went along with pathos, reason
with fancy, and philosophy and experience gave weight and value to his
words. In other directions, as, for example, in his reminiscences of public
life, public men, and journalistic incident, he was eminently happy and viva-
cious ; and no one who ever heard will ever forget his sketches of the old
days of journalism, or of the scenes of other times, in which figured Webster
and Clay, and still later Lincoln and Douglas, beside Seward and many other
uotable public characters still living. We make note at this time, and in this
place, of matters like these; because few of the readers of this journal, and
few oven of those who enjoyed his outside acquaintance, have ever had occa-
sion to know anything of those more intimate personal traits which made him.
beloved as a friend as well as admired for his intellect and character.

" In the midst of a great and honorable career, — after having attained a:
distinguished position; while yet his life was in its prime, and his faculties
were in their full strength and order, — he has been suddenly cut off. Dur-
ing the last year or two he has at times had slight indications of what
seemed a paralytic tendency in the muscles of his right hand and wrist.
But he gave little attention to the matter, and continued actively engaged in
his editorial duties up to within a few hours of the time at which his life
closed.

" And now, with all the memories and affections of the past, with our
hearts overwhelmed with grief, and mingling our tears with those of the
bereaved members of his family, — in the name of all his associates, we utter
to our beloved friend this last FAREWELL !

" ' Vale, vale, in (sternum vale I ' "

It is proper also to place on record the eulogies* which ap-
peared in the New York Tribune and the New York Herald*
— for, in Mr. Kaymond's lifetime, the conductors of these
papers had been his bitter and unrelenting foes, pitilessly hos-
tile and critically severe in their estimate of his political career
and his personal character. In the presence of Death the
tongue of detraction became silent, and the old professional
and personal rivalries disappeared. The 'I'rihnne and the Her-
ald printed in leading columns the words which follow: —

From the Few York Tribune.
"BIOGRAPHIC VI. MilCTCH.

"In the great newspaper offices, in the club-houses, in Wall Street, In com-
mittee rooms, in all places where men of culture and of affairs meet together,
a little whisper of news came yesterday which awed the bravest and sad-
14

210 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

dened the lightest heart. It was only the news that is told every day of
some man well-known to his fellows ; only the news that a kindly face would
be no more seen among them, a heartsome voice be no more heard, a firm
step no longer ring down familiar ways. And yet few faces could be more
missed than this one lying upturned in such dreamless sleep ; few voices die
out of more listening ears ; few steps fail whose coming had brought assur-
ance of a friend's approach to a greater host of friends. ' Governor Raymond
is dead,' said the brief report. But no man who heard it repeated it in that
form. ' A great journalist is dead,' said one voice. ' An able politician is
gone,' said another. And so multitudes remembered him, each giving him
honor for some distinctive power, but all adding, in softer voice, ' and he
had no enemies.' It is a good record to have left. A young man still ; an
over- worked, over-anxious, over-eager man ; ambitious, liking position, liking
money, liking all the prizes and all the warm, sweet gifts of life ; in close
relations with hundreds of men of most different capacities and purposes, — he
leaves no personal enemy, not one who shall say, ' He was a false friend.'
In his life there was much bitter speech about the politician, the officer, the
legislator, the editor, — none concerning the man. Now that he cannot ex-
plain ways that seemed unwise or tortuous, his bitterest detractors, touched
by the sweet charity and wisdom which are the gift of Death when he takes
away one we have known, will be the first to explain the unwisdom or the
crookedness. They will see that what they called disingenuousness and
timidity might have been a fear of bigotry and onesideduess, and incapacity
to regard any step, or declaration, or triumph as conclusive. A poor boy
from the country, brown-handed, rustic, he achieved a college training, and
came alone to a great city to conquer his place among men. He worked as
no digger on the railroads could work. His place was low, his wage was
small ; but he bent his genius to the occasion as if he had been Premier, and
the applause of the world his guerdon. By and by the obscure name was in
men's mouths. By and by, again, he was himself a recognized power, and
graduated from journey-work into the mastership of his own newspaper.
He had conquered his place. Money, and influence, and applause were his.
And in these prosperous days no one was so ready to help him who was
down, to serve a friend at some cost to himself, to make the places of his
associates pleasant and honorable, to do distasteful tasks which other men
hesitated at.

" While his hands were full of business, and his life full of activities, the
strange, swift order came to him to leave all this for larger occupation.
There was no time to say his farewells to old associates ; but they crowd to
say a tender farewell to him. There is no journalist to take his place; the
epitome of his power is written thus. There is no friend to take his place ;
the epitome of his kindness and loyalty is written thus. Pure sunshine
floods the earth this morning, and filters down in mist of gold on the cool,
sweet sward of Greenwood, where his eyes last looked on it. The golden
mist will float above a new grave, where he shall lie beside the lad he loved
so much, and, shimmering in the sun, will seem to make a ladder through the
shining air whereon the angels of the Lord shall ascend and descend.

" ' Ilia hands arc folded on his breast;
There is no other thought expressed
Than long disquiet merged in rest.'"

DEATH. 211

From the New York Tribune.
EDITORIAL.

"In the death of Hon. Henry J. Raymond, editor of the New York Times,
the Press of our city has lost one of its ablest and most eminent members,
Mr. Raymond, after graduating with distinction at the University of Ver-
mont, came directly to this city in the autumn of 1840, and was employed on
the New- Yorker, for which he had written with force and spirit while a stu-
dent. The Tribune was started the next April, and Mr. Raymond held the
second place on its editorial staff from the outset until the autumn of 1848>
when he resigned it to accept a like position on the Courier and Enquirer,
which he likewise relinquished after a few years; visiting Europe with his
family, and being repeatedly elected to the Assembly of our State, whereof
he was in the second term chosen speaker. He now started the Times, of
which he was from the first sole editor, though well served by assistants.
He was chosen Lieutenant-Governor of our State in 1854, and elected to Con-
gress from our Sixth District in 1864. Mr. Johnson, in 1867, nominated him
for Minister to Austria, but the Senate did not confirm the selection.

" Mr. Raymond's official career, though evincing ability, did less than jus-
tice to his comprehensive knowledge and rare intellectual powers. Never so
positive and downright in his convictions as his countrymen are apt to be,
he was often misjudged as a trimmer and time-server, when in fact he spoke and
wrote exactly as he felt and thought. If what he uttered to-day was not in full
accordance with what he said yesterday, the difference evinced in his essay
was a true reflection of one which had preceded it in his mind. He saw both
sides of a controverted issue, and, if one of them seemed the juster to-day,
the other might nevertheless command his preference to-morrow. This men-
tal constitution or mental habitude is rare icith its, and he would have been.more
favorably judged as a journalist or politician in Great Britain than in this country.

" Mr. Raymond would have ranked in England as a ' Liberal Conservative,'
and would have followed the flag now of Gladstone, then of Lord Stanley,
occasionally siding with Robert Lowe, and again with Beresford Hope. He
was sincerely favorable to liberty, reform, and progress ; he was no less sin-
cerely averse to rash or violent changes, and anxious that progress should be
regular and equable, never shocking a prejudiced nor fluttering a timorous
breast. It is perhaps unfortunate, but none the less true, that giant wrongs
and strongly fortified abuses are not thus to be overborne.

" There were probably others who evinced greater ability in some special
department; but, regarding journalism in its broadest aspects, we doubt
whether this country has known a journalist superior to Henry J. Raymond.
He was an admirable reporter, a discerning critic, a skilful selecteraud com-
piler of news, as well as an able and ready writer. There was nothing in the
whole range of newspaper work that he could not do well, and (what is of
equal importance 1 with unhesitating promptness. He was never too sick to
work when work had to be done, and always able and willing to do any
amount of labor that the exigency might require. Others may have evinced
a rarer faculty, which some might term genius; but Mr. Raymond embodied
talents that have rarely been surpassed.

"Genial, unassuming, and thoroughly informed by study, observation, and
travel, Mr. Raymond was a delightful companion, and his society was widely

212 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

courted and ^njoyed. A thoroughly capable and effective canvasser, he has
for years shunned public speaking whenever it could be avoided, finding
enough to do without it, and having no decided love for the sound of his own
voice. Snatched away so suddenly, in the prime of life and in the midst of
its activities, his death makes a void that will not easily be filled, while his
widow and children are called to mourn a loss at once astounding and irrep-
arable."

From the New York Herald.
"THE DEATH OF HENRY J. RAYMOND — MODERX JOURNALISM.

" One of the central lights of the New York daily press has been suddenly
extinguished. Henry J. Raymond, late the active head and controlling mind
of the Times, is no more. The circumstances of his death yesterday morn-
ing, and the leading events of his public career, we give elsewhere in these
columns. In the prime of life, and apparently possessing a physical consti-
tution unshaken by his active public labors of a quarter of a century, the an-
nouncement of his death was somewhat startling, as another unlooked-for
admonition of the uncertainties of this earthly existence. He leaves behind
him the reputation of a brilliant speaker, an able and accomplished'writer,
a good, experie need , and successful journalist, a respected neighbor, and a
useful citizen. His name is conspicuous in that distinguished catalogue of
'self-made men,' who, by dint of their individual energy, tact, industry, and
perseverance, have risen from poverty and obscurity to influence and afflu-
ence. His example will be an encouragement to others setting out — excel-
sior—from the valley of humiliation for the distant table-lands of distinc-
tion and prosperity.

"The history of Mr. Raymond, however, is but the history of many others
who have climbed from obscurity to distinction, varying only in its details.
He came to this city a poor youth, seeking employment. He chose the career
of a journalist, with an eye to practical results, and made it a success. His
preliminary training as a reporter and sub-editor qualified him for the under-
taking of a new daily on his own account. He was fortunate, too, in the
opening presented (1851) for the Times. At that period the demand for
morning newspapers in the city was greater than the supply. The machin-
ery and facilities of the Hera Id establishment, for" instance, were not equal to
the morning's demand for the Herald at that clay. The surplus of readers
unsupplied offered a fair margin for a new journal, which it was the good
fortune of the Times to seize upon, and, in bringing forward this new journal.
Mr. Raymond's experience had taught him to abandon the old school of the
old stage-coach and Railing-ship epoch of the Courier and Enquirer, and to
fall in with the new school of the Herald, of the new epoch of steamships
and railways. The Times was established on the Herald idea of the latest
news, and, as Mr. Raymond comprehended it, upon the Herald idea of edito-
rial independence. We had, in fact, opened a new placer, — a regular White
Pine silver mine ; and numerous diggers undertook to work the vein at va-
rious points. Thus the Times came into the field, and from the margin sug-
gested to begin with as a penny paper, it gradually built up a constituency
of its own, and became an established success. But had we possessed in
1851 our lightning presses and stereotyping facilities of the present day,

DEATH. 213

there would have been no opening for the Times, as there is no opening here
now for a new morning newspaper, except upon an enormous outlay of capi-
tal, with the hazards of heavy losses for a year or two, and then a collapse.

" The costly machinery and appliances of modern journalism give a security
to established popular newspapers which did not exist in the primary forma-
tion. Thus a morning daily, established upon all these modern improve-
ments and advantages, becomes a fixed institution to be transmitted from
one generation of conductors and readers to another. Hence we may con-
clude that the Times, notwithstanding the death of Mr. Raymond, will go on
as before, and that ere long his son, now at Yale College, will put on the har-
ness and worthily maintain the editorial status of his father, with the con-
tinued prosperity of his paper. From this modern school of established pop-
ular journals it is apparent, too, that as the whole newspaper press of the
country has improved, and is improving, it will still advance with the spirit,
the progress and the requirements of the age.

" But there is another lesson suggested from Mr. Raymond's career, which
is worthy of some attention. Pie was a politician as well as a journalist, and
in attempting to subordinate his functions as a journalist to his aspirations
as a party politician he failed in both characters. 'No man can serve two
masters.' Mr. Raymond pushed the experiment to the wall ; but, driven at
last to a choice, he wisely abandoned the role of an aspiring party politician
for that of the" untrammelled editor. The wisdom, however, of the Herald's
example of standing aloof from intriguing and treacherous party politicians
he had to learn from dear experience. 'Old Thad. Stevens' settled the
question, and evidently satisfied Mr. Raymond that even in conducting a
party journal which pays, it is unsafe to have any other irons in the fire. In
the line in which he was successful, and in the political party adventures in
which he failed, there are valuable lessons for newspaper men, while in his
general editorial course of moderation, dignity, courtesy, and refinement, his
example will command universal respect. Indeed, it would be well if with
the public press it were the universal law.'

The New York World, which had also been engaged in
fierce controversies with the Times, published the following
estimate of Mr. Raymond's character : —

•• Mr. Raymond's life, brief as it was, covered and was contemporaneous
with the rise and growth and progress to maturity of the New York I're.-s
such as we see it to-day. He entered the ranks of the profession when it
was but poorly and partially recognized as a profession at all; he has fallen
in his ripe manhood, conspicuous among its chiefs, when its duties and its
responsibilities have multiplied and come into the light, until it is seen and
felt of all men to be tin- truest power for good or evil in the land. Ills work
has been done through years few in number, but in premium-}- of meaning
and of influence how grave and full ! He rests from it now. May he re^t iu
peace! And well will it be for the American press ami the American people,
if no journalist of equal ability and influence shall ever in the future less

214 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

worthily devote the one and exert the other than he whom we are called now
to lay in what men call his 'untimely grave.' "

Tardy justice was done to Mr. Raymond by Horace Gree-
ley, in the passages quoted, on a previous page, from the col-
umns of the Tribune. The man being dead, the Tribune
confessed that in his life he had been " misjudged ; " that he
had not been a "time-server; " that, "in fact, he spoke and
wrote exactly as he felt and thought." Yet, through many
years, Raymond was to Greeley "a little villain," — a phrase
of Tribune invention too frequently used as a term of oppro-
brium, — a " trickster," a traitor to principle, devoid of honor,
destitute of common honesty. Raymond died, and the Tribune
at once retracted its harsh judgment. The alternative condi-
tions, therefore, are simple : either Mr. Greeley's prejudice
had obscured the truth while Mr. Raymond lived, or the truth
was insincerely uttered when the man was dead. Let us, for
sweet charity's sake, adopt the former, in the belief that the
Tribune expressed its absolute conviction in the words of
eulogy uttered at the last. Tardy justice is better than
no justice at all ; but the judicial impartiality which is not
swayed by personal hatred, nor perverted by political antag-
onism, is in all cases the best and manliest. Henry J. Ray-
mond was at no period of his career the character described by
the Tribune and the Herald. Living, he was the target for
poisoned shafts. Dead, his revilers confessed their error.
Human fallibility had thus another illustration.

AT BEST. 215

CHAPTER XXI.

AT REST.

FUNERAL CEREMONIES — ELOQUENT ADDRESS BY REV. HENRY WARD BEECHER.

THE funeral of Henry J. Raymond, which took place on
Monday, the 21st of June, was attended by an immense concourse
of relatives and friends. After appropriate ceremonies at the
residence of the family in New York, the remains were con-
veyed to the University Place Presbyterian Church, at the
corner of Tenth Street and University Place, the following-
named gentlemen officiating as pall-bearers : —

The Mayor of the City, Admiral Farragut,

Maj.-Gen. John A. Dix, Maj.-Gen. I. McDowell,

Judge C. P. Daly, Hon. E. D. Morgan,

Mr. Thurlow Weed, James Watson Webb,

Mr. Horace Greeley, Mr. B. F. Tracy,

Mr. A. T. Stewart, Mr. M. H. Grinnell,

Mr. George W. Curtis, Mr. C. C. Norvell.

On the arrival of the funeral procession at the church, the
clergy, consisting of Rev. Dr. Tyng, Rev. Henry Ward
Beecher, Rev. Alfred A. Kellogg, and Rev. Dr. Shedd, pro-
ceeded to the porch, and there received the remains, whirh
they preceded up the aisle, Dr. Tyng reading the appropriate
services. The usual services of the Episcopal Church wore
then read by Dr. Tyng.

The following address was delivered by Rev. Henry Ward
Beecher : —

" It is not expected that I should indulge in eulogy, nor even that I should
attempt to recount the prominent facts in the history of him who is gone.
But a few days a^> he talked in manly viiror and unceasing activity. But
to-day ! Not when he was born, nor when he was in his cradle was he weaker

216 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

than now. This man of strength and power in his coffin ! So sudden, so
instant was his death, that it was as the fall of some mighty tree that had
filled the air, wide and broad, with its strength and richness, but in an hour
has felt the woodman's axe, and the place that knew it knows it no more, and
will not forever. It is seldom that any one passes from life who has held any
public position except the one he has built up for himself, on whose de-
parture there has been so much sympathy, tind good will, and admiration,
and grief, and affection expressed as in the case of Mr. Raymond. He \vas
called to a sphere of irradiation, in its very nature contestant, and was
long habituated to discussion in times that have swayed men and the nation
to the very bottom. Scarcely had his departure been flashed through the
laud, than with lightning-like rapidity comes back the testimony of his antag-
onists and friends to his goodness of nature, to his great capacity and the
purity of his motives, and to the good work which he has done iu his own
community and the nation. It is a testimony of witnesses to the real good-
ness of this man, that those who were most opposed to him, that those whose
hands were lifted with the pen of contest, laid it down to write his eulogy
and express their heartfelt grief. He was a man who loved and was beloved,
lie was a Tnau without hate, and, I might almost say, without animosity; a
man the nearer you came to him and the better you knew him, the more you
esteemed and loved him. You trusted him if you knew him; if you knew him
it was to love him; and it is no small thing to say in this selfish world that
his like is rarely met with. There are two things which I wish to emphasize
in his public career, and only two. He stood in the widest pulpit that is
known in modern society. The lawyer has his narrow sphere of the forum;
the representative the close walks of the legislature ; the minister has his
parish and the walls of his church; and scarcely speaks beyond. But there
is, in this day, a pulpit which has no limit. It is that of the Press. It is lit-
erally the voice of one that speaks, that is crying in the wilderness. For all
creeds, and for all the populace of the land throughout the nation's territo-
ries, from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean, the daily papers speak; and there
is not in modern civilization a power which can compare with this. There is
no place in the land which has so developed the daily Press as this; and
among the builders, — I do not say the founders, — but among the builders
up of this foundation stands Mr. Raymond pre-eminently. Aside from his
general abilities, he has conducted the Press ; and I remark, — and it is most
grateful in such a time as this to remark upon it, — I remark how singularly
free his whole career has been from bitterness ; how he refused to gain
strength by the advocacy of passion ; how he never used the malign passions,
nor appealed to them in others; how reason and the higher moral sentiments
breathed in his work; how to you in these higher feelings he uttered himself.
And now that he has departed, to look back upon his career, and see how he
wielded the mighty engine in behalf of good reason, in behalf of moral senti-
ments, covers a multitude of imperfections. I have it in my heart also to
say, — because, in common with all of you, I have heard his instability cited,
— I have heard it said that he was weak and trimming; but I never believed
it. I recollect the time when the nation- shivered like an aspen leaf, — when
one man was worth an army. Those qualities which he possessed above all
others were hope and indomitable courage. I remember, and ever shall feel

AT KEST. 217

grateful to this man who pressed to the front rank, and who let his voice ring
out clearly, without a moment's hesitation, with the most unceasing energy to
the end of the contest, that gave courage and hope and life to this great people.
If this was trimming, oh that there had been more such trimmers ! That was a
service which should enshrine a man's memory in a country's history, and make
his name dear to the people. I thanked him for it. I still thank him ; and I am
glad to make mention of, and bear this testimony to, his fidelity in those days,
when to be faithful required greatness of soul. My friends, it seems impossible
that we are speaking of one who so little time ago walked among us ; it seems
impossible that we shall never see again that cheerful face, and take that cor-
dial grasp ; that, we shall walk with him no more, and hear his counsel no
more. But he is gone. He has fallen in the very prime of his life. The next
ten years ought to have been worth more to us and to him than the last
twenty were. He had taxed the resources of his life unduly, and has been
cast down prematurely, because he had not lived within the due bounds of
moderation in the use of himself. For obedience to God requires moderation
iu industries, not inordinate activities, even in the best spheres of life. He
cannot repair the error, but it may be that we shall give some heed to it in
this place of instruction. My voice can do him no good, or I would pour it
out. Though I cannot do him any good by praise or by criticism, yet I hope
that there may be some benefit to us in this solemn scene. For myself, for
you, for all of us, is herein a lesson. What are those things which engaged
his days and hours? What are the cares, the frets, the petty ambitions, the
stinging annoyances, the small strifes, the friction, the sweat and tear of
life? What are those things as we stand here and look back upon them,
measured by this hour that should measure the worth of all things? What
are those things that are past? How vain, how useless ! What best may we
do that, judged by this hour, we shall stand by his memory who lived not for
himself, but so associated himself with the welfare of mankind, especially
with the community in which he was placed, that the work he leaves behind
him shall be his memorial? For no man is great enough to be remembered in
selfishness. The things which shall make our names memorable are those
things which we do upon others and for others. Not those who have lived
for themselves, but those who have lived for others, for' their country, for
their age. You and I, too, ere long shall come to this hour. You are strong,
the blood beats now healthily in your veins ; but in a short time you, too,
shall be in the coffin, and you shall be followed by your friends to the tomb.
Could we, if you were called hence to-day, speak well of your history ?
Have you earned the right to be spoken of gratefully in this solemn hour,
and have your name handed down toothers? Are you living above the world
while in it, Christianly, purely, and nobly? Are you living with fear of God
and with hope of immortality? For surely it is uo. unmeaning service of
respect that you pay to-day. You come here to wear a nobler manliiu n, I >
take off the vows of a higher fidelity, and to retain a sense of the urgency and
importance of life. You come here to rebuke your passions, to seek the truth
as it is in Jesus Christ, to check the uprising of pride and selfishness, and to
take upon you the purpose and vows of fidelity to God and man. Ules>ed
are they who when passing away need not the adventitious eircumstance of
place. Blessed are they whose mourners are those who have beeu the re-

218 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

cipients of their continued kindness ; they who have made their memories
dear to hearts which they have enriched and blessed. And now, to-morrow
and next week his name will be familiar, and many of us will cherish it as
long as we live. But this great thundering city is like the ocean, and as
when one falls overboard and gives one outcry, and the flying water is dis-
turbed, but the huge waves pass over, the wrinkles are smoothed out, and the
sea is no fuller than before, so the great multitude will forget him and pass
on. You who are so important to-day may be insignificant to-morrow. You
who are taking hold of the very springs of life will drop them from your
fingers. Oh that God may grant to us all such a sense of our weakness here
and responsibility there, that we may so improve life that when we lay it
down we shall take it up again beyond the grave in a land where death is no
more, and where there is immortality and blessedness ! "

On the following day, the remains of Mr. Raymond were
conveyed to Greenwood Cemetery for interment.

THE MAN. 219

CHAPTER XXII.

THE MAN.

MR. RAYMOND'S CAREER — HIS EARLY AMBITION — HIS APPLICATION — NEWS-
PAPER REQUIREMENTS — THE TIMES — RAYMOND'S TREATMENT OF SUBORDI-
NATES — IIIS HOSPITALITY INCIDENTS RAYMOND'S TACT HIS HABIT OF

DISCIPLINE — HIS IDEA OF JOURNALISM — HIS ERRORS — HIS METHODS OF
LITERARY LABOR — THE BIOGRAPHY OF DANIEL WEBSTER — A COLLEGE AD-
DRESS — RELIGIOUS FAITH — " GATES AJAR" — DOMESTIC LIFE.

THE reader who has followed the story of Mr. Raymond's
career, has found in these pages the record of his successes and
his failures. Beginning life as a poor boy, with no advantages
of fortune or position ; pushing his way steadily forward, in
defiance of obstacles which would have daunted a man desti-
tute of the quality of resolution ; achieving a marked success
in the field of effort he had chosen ; falling into error when the
temptations of place assailed him, — but through all those
plias.es preserving a simple, manly spirit, unclouded by petty
inoaimess, and a warm heart, unchilled by adversity and un-
hardened by prosperity, — the Man was better even than the
Journalist, in the same proportion as the Journalist was supe-
rior to the Politician.

When Raymond assumed the editorial chair as the Chief of
the Times, he was happier than at any other period of his life.
There was good reason for this happiness. He was but thirty-
one years of age ; yet he had roaohod the height of his ambition
— all the ambition he had then cherished — in becoming the
controller of a public journal. His unerring instinct told him
his experiment was a success; he knew he possessed within
himself the power of infusing into it the elements of strength.
Naturally sagacious, he had not only seen the want of his time,
but had determined to supply it. A good family newspaper
was needed — he provided it. A cheap newspaper was ossen-

220 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

tial — he sold the Times for one cent. Money was wanted to
keep the new craft afloat in its early days — the generous zeal
of the men who had full faith in Raymond supplied ample
means. No paper was ever launched in New York under more
favorable auspices.

From the beginning, Raymond set an example of application
to all who were in his employ. Only those who have been
placed upon the treadmill of a daily newspaper in New York
know the severity of the strain it imposes upon the mental and
physical powers. There is no cessation. The labor bestowed
upon the preparation of one copy of a daily journal is equal to
that for which a week is occupied in any other profession, or in
the pursuits of commerce ; for, the material of each day having
been wholly consumed, a series of new processes is constantly
required to replenish the exhausted supply. A good newspaper
never publishes that which is technically denominated " old
news," — a phrase so significant in journalism as to be invested
with untold horrors. All must be daily fresh, daily complete,
daily polished and perfect ; else the journal falls into disrepute,
is distanced by its rivals, and, becoming " dull," dies. The
older newspapers in New York which have become extinct,
lost vitality at the moment when they failed to be representa-
tive of the spirit of their time. The railroad, the telegraph,
the advance of civilization, the applications of science to the
common affairs of life, the resulting growth of inquiry, and the
development of broader human sympathies, inspired a desire
for daily mirrors to reflect faithfully all that the world was
doing — all that men were working for — all that the proiriv>s
of art and invention, of skill and industry, was accomplishing.
Keeping pace in a certain degree with this growing desire, Ben-
nett began the Herald; going a step further, Greeley established
the Tribune; reaching still beyond these, Raymond started the
Times; and the first lesson he gave his assistants was this:
" Get all the news ; never indulge in personalities ; treat all men
civilly; put all your strength into your work, and remember
that a daily newspaper should be an accurate reflection of the
world as it is." Upon this foundation the Times was built, —
and the foundation was rock. Some severe tempests have

THE MAN, 221

assailed the paper, in Raymond's time and since his death ; but
it was so strongly braced at the outset, and it has gained so
many solid props from the support of patrons who have cluiiir
to it for eighteen years, that its stability is assured. The
severe labor performed by Mr. Raymond in the earlier years of
the Times is a tradition in that office to-day, and the sagacity
with which he touched the public pulse gave the paper an im-
petus which has carried it constantly forward.* He saw that
work — hard work — was essential to success; and late and
early he was at his post.

In all the departments of Journalism he had become a model
workman. Energetic as a reporter, assiduous as a correspond-
ent, diligent as a compiler, impartial as a critic, fluent a- a
writer, and judicious as a manager, he had gained an enviable
reputation in the ranks of the newspaper men of New York,
ninny years before his elevation to the highest place in Journal-
ism. When he became an employer, he extended a hand of
manly welcome to the employed ; -regarding them, in the light
of his own experience, as men to whom gentle consideration
was due oftener than it was usually given. He was rarely mis-

*The New York Nation, edited by Mr. Godkin, long one of Mr. Hay-
mond's assistants in the Times, very truly remarked after his death : " No-
body was more profoundly sensible than he of the defects and dangers of
journalism as a profession — defects and dangers which nearly everybody
sees but editors, and which it would be well if editors saw ofteuer — the reck-
lessness, haste, indifference to finish and accuracy and abstract justice which it
is apt to beget in the minds of those who pursue it, and especially of those
who pursue it eagerly. Let us add that nobody has done more, we doubt if
anybody has done so much, for the elevation of the profession. In the art of
making a good newspaper, we need hardly say, he was a master. The
under his management probably came nearer the newspaper of the good time
coming than any other in existence ; in this, that it encouraged truthfulness —
the reproduction of facts nncolored by the necessities of ' a cause ' or by the
editor's personal feelings — among reporters ; that it carried decency, tem-
perance, and moderation into discussion, and banished personality from it :
and thus not only supplied the only means by which rational beings can get at
the truth, but helped to abate the greatest nuisance of the age, the coarseness,
violence, calumny, which does so much to drive sensible and high-minded and
competent men out of public life or keep them from entering it. Moreover,
it rendered journalism and the community the essential service of abstaining
from the puffery of worthless people, which does so much for the corruption
of our politics."

222 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

taken in his selection of assistants ; still more rarely did he fail
to attach them to himself by ties of personal regard ; and often
these ties became strengthened in a bond of positive affection.
He required honest work in the hours of work ; but the labor
was not inadequately rewarded, and in moments of leisure the
pleasant courtesies of society were freely interchanged. In
carrying out his idea of conciliation and good-fellowship to it£
natural conclusion, he fell into the pleasant habit of extending
to his assistants the hospitalities of his home. On " reception
nights," or at social family dinners, the men of the Times often
met together as fellow-guests, free from the cares of toil, and,
by interchanging the civilities of life, came to know each other,
and to feel a kindly interest, each for the welfare of the other,
which would never have been excited in the hurry of purely
professional routine.

An illustrative incident, revealed since the death of Mr.
Raymond, shows that this tender regard for his subordinates
continued unabated to the last. In the spring of 1869, calling
aside his partner, Mr. Jones, Mr. Raymond spoke of the good
service performed by three gentlemen in the editorial depart-
ment of the paper, and added, " We don't pay them enough ;
they must have more ; I don't see how they can live upon their
salaries." The partners agreed that the compensation should
be increased ; but the sudden death of Mr. Raymond threw
the Times' establishment into confusion, and the compliment
was postponed. It is due to Mr. Jones to add that the desire
expressed by Mr. Raymond was subsequently fulfilled to the
letter.

It should also be mentioned that, a few months before his
death, Mr. Raymond contemplated an annual division of a per-
centage of the profits of the Times among four of his as
ants, whose long and faithful service had commended them to
his warm regard.

Acts like these not only endear men to those who serve
them, but stimulate the recipients of the compliment to live-
lier interest and increased exertion. The repressive policy,
niggardly at best, often defeats its own ends, by repelling
good service, or by chilling the ardor of men whose circum-

THE MAN. 223

stances compel them to submit. The open IIP ml and the spirit
of generous appreciation, in the end, outweigh the griping

and the sordid soul.

Mr. Raymond's; (act was one of his most notable qualiti« •.-.
JJetter than the majority of men, he possessed the power of
keeping his temper under control. He was never betrayed by
anger into discourtesy. In the hours of business, in the office
of the Times, the sole indication of a disturbance of his mental
CM M i ilibrium was his occasional rapid transit through the outer
editorial room to his private office, with an emphatic clink of
his boot-heel upon the floor, but utter silence of the tongue.
Curiosity was at once awakened, and, within the hour, some
derelict person, who had made a blunder, or disregarded an
order, was seen emerging, discomfited, from the presence to
which he had been summoned, — for Raymond was always :i
strict disciplinarian, and in this fact, coupled with his own
intimate knowledge of the proper quality of newspaper work,
lay part of the secret of his power. He was not an ignorant
pretender, destitute of practical acquaintance with the require-
ments of editorial labor, but a man who had himself done all
that lie required others to do, — and he was respected accord-
ingly.

An amusing instance of Mr. Raymond's firm control oc-
curred soon after the removal of the Times to the building it
now occupies. One of the writers in the editorial force,
nettled by the rejection of several articles upon which he had
bestowed much thought, ventured a remonstrance, concluding
with an announcement of his intention to cease writing, if noth-
ing lie had prepared was to be used. Raymond received this
declaration with a placid air, mildly remarking, "There is but
one Kditor of th.e Timi's; and if your place is distasteful to
you, you kr,:-w you are at liberty to iv-ign." The indignant
writer did not resign, but continued in the service of the paper
for several years afterwards.

On another occasion, a rebellions reporter, a — iu'ned by the
City Kditor of the YY,//r.< to a ta<k distasteful to him. appealed
to Mr. Raymond for redress. He wa> politely informed,
through the medium of a brief note, courteous but sharp, that

224 IIEXRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

his duty was to obey orders, and that, in the opinion of the
Chief, the order which had been given was entirely proper.
Any repetition of this defiance of constituted authority — it
was adde'd — would be regarded as good cause for immediate
dismissal. The protesting reporter never again protested ; but,
on the contrary, became one of the most valuable assistants in
the Times.

Mr. Raymond's idea of Journalism was broad and generous.
In the columns of the Times he sought to interpret the popu-
lar sentiment, rather than to guide it into unknown channels ;
honestly believing that the province of the Journalist is not
that of the Reformer, but that of the Leader. He had no
patience with the class of newspaper editors who seek to
destroy, and never offer the faintest practical suggestion for
building up. Iconoclasts in every department of human life
he abhorred.

His theory, in effect, was, that the Press as a representative
power should conserve all the best elements in society; and,
while refusing to no Reform a fair hearing, should reject the
radical plans intended to uproot all that men hold dear. Act-
ing upon this belief, he opposed the Socialistic fallacies which
had been introduced into this country by Brisbane and Gree-
ley. Showing his faith by works, in his later years he
battled with the Radical element in the Republican party,
which had striven to reduce the conquered States of the South
to a condition of territorial subjection. In both these phase s
of his life he was unquestionably honest. The records cited
in this volume show that he was actuated, throughout, by a
pure motive ; and the admissions of his bitterest opponents
after his death furnish in themselves abundant proof that nei-
ther the malignity of passion, nor the desire of political
emolument, governed his course as a public character.

Nevertheless, justice requires a verdict founded upon actual
truth ; and it would be idle to deny that Mr. Raymond failed
as a politician.

It is a false sentiment which bestows only fulsome eulogy
upon the dead. In the imperfect constitution of mankind,
great qualities are counterbalanced by the smaller ; the good

CX jtet-CA-^

u^ (H-^

ttu,

/-QXI

xV^^v A I

.+-

THE MAX. 225

by tin- evil, — and in the character which is marked by quali-
ties deserving the highest praise, there is inevitably something
t<> deplore.

In analyzing the character of Mr. Raymond, it should not
;-gotlen that, while he was a man of honestpurpo.se, hi.s
mental constitution led him to look at the negative as well as
at the positive side of every question. This tendency was illus-
trated in his political career by his mistaken championship of
Andrew Johnson, at a time when the name of the Chief
•'itive of the nation had become a byword and a reproach.
We have shown in a previous chapter, however, that when
convinced of his error, he was prompt to make frank confes-
sion. The confession atoned, in some measure, for the error;
but the evil had been done, and the sting remained.

In his conduct of the Times, also, Mr. Raymond was some-
times fickle. He espoused with ardor the cause which com-
mended itself to his better judgment; but was too apt, at
times, to discover equally good reasons for taking an opposite
course. "This duality of vision," said one of his friends, "was
sometimes a torment to him;" and Raymond himself re-
marked : " If those of my friends who call me a waverer,
could only know how impossible it is for me to see but one
aspect of a question, or to espouse but one side of a cause,
they would pity rather than condemn me; and, however much
I may wish myself differently constituted, yet I cannot unmake
the original structure of my mind."

This peculiar mental habit detracted from Mr. Raymond's
force. Had his convictions been more intense, his will more
powerful, his errors would have been fewer. But the errors
existed ; and they must be candidly acknowledged in making
up the record of his life.

Mr. K.ivMMi'd's methods of literary labor were peculiar. Al-
ways rapid in his movements, his hand had been educated by
long newspaper practice to obey automatically the quick action
of his brain. His thought was logical and clear, and his man-
uscript, dashed oil' with scarcely an erasure, and often without
revision, went into the hands of the printer, ready for instant
use. He possessed the faculty of concentration; holding an
15

226 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

idea firmly until he had given it fitting expression, undisturbed
by the confusion and interruptions incidental to a newspaper
office.* The accompanying fac simile of his "copy" — the
first page of an article on the question of Copyright — is a
fair specimen of the appearance of his manuscript. The style
of the chirography is neat, plain, and simple.

Absorption in more pressing duties prevented Mr. Ray-
mond from accomplishing any great literary work, aside from
his contributions to the Times. His first serious effort as
author or compiler was the preparation of a biography of
Abraham Lincoln, published in New York in 1865. He found
time, however, to make many elaborate speeches on topics of
political importance ; and in August, 1850, he delivered the
annual address before the Alumni of the University of Ver-
mont, at Burlington. The subject of this address was,
" The Relations of the American Scholar to his Country and
his Times." It was repeated, by special request, before the
literary societies of Brown University, in Providence, at their
annual celebration in the following September. In this ad-
dress, ascending to the higher level of purely literary disqui-
sition, and dealing with questions broader than those which
occupied his pen in the daily routine of journalistic duty, Mr.
Raymond displayed the resources of a highly cultivated mind,
the best qualities of an accomplished rhetorician, and the
broad sympathies and philosophical conclusions of a thoughtful
observer. The address, interesting alike from its subject and
its associations, is republished entire in the Appendix to thl*
volume, as the best illustration of certain mental qualities in

* This was notably illustrated at the time of the death of Dairiel Webster.
The Times of October 25, 1862, contained a biography of Ma1. Webster,
twenty-six columns in length, every word of which was written and put in
type in the few hours which intervened between the receipt of the intelligence
that the great statesman was dying, and the moment when the Times of the
25th was put to press. Doubt has been expressed, since the death of Mr.
Raymond, concerning the amount of this gigantic labor which he performed
in person. The writer of these pages was witness to the work. Mr. Ray-
mond wrote exactly sixteen columns of the biography, and two of his assist-
ants indited the remaining ten columns. Mr. Raymond, therefore, actually
wrote sixteen columns of the Times in less than half a day ; and this, too,
without the aid of any material previously prepared.

THE MAN. 227

its author, which might have entitled him to rank among the
scholarly orators of his time.*

On the 4th of July, 1854, Mr. Raymond delivered an ad-
dress at the Fourth of July celebration in Geneseo, Livingston
County, — his subject being "The Political Lessons of the
Revolution." This production was better than the average of
Fourth of July orations ; but the occasion did not call for any
elaborate effort.

Mr. Raymond's brain was tireless. In intervals of repose,.
after the duties of the day were done, his mind reverted to-
speculative fancies, or dwelt upon recondite problems. Hi-
principal recreation was the study of the metaphysical. This
peculiarity, which had made him singular in College, clung to
him through life, and it was natural to him to investigate with
raiv all new phases of mental philosophy. His earliest training-
had boon that of the extreme orthodoxy of the Presbyterian
( 'hurt h ; and for many years after he had begun to think and act
for himself, the old traditions governed his religious belief. Ex-
perience of the world, reading, study, travel, comparisons of
conflicting systems pf theology, subsequently shook his faith ;
and he was accustomed to speak with admiration of Coleridge's
"Fiiend." The whole tenor of his thought on reli-ii
subjects was changed by the perusal of a book which he took
up as it fell from the press. The book was "The (iates Ajar,"
a little volume written by Miss Elizabeth Stuart Phelps, and
published in IJoston a few months before the death of Mr. Ray-
mond. Strangely impressed by this work, he read it with deep
attention, and amended his theory of the nature of the future
life. The fact is an interesting illustration of two points, —
namely, the readiness of Mr. Raymond's mind to receive new
impression-, and the unexpected eiiecls sometimes produced bv
simple CHUM* An attached friend of .Mr. Raymond — Rev.
Henry M. Fit-Id — has written the following allusion to this in-
cident : " I spent an hour with Mr. Raymond at his home,
when the conversation ran from topics of business to other
themes. He had lately had repeated domestic sorrow. But a

* See Appendix E.

228 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

few months before he had stood at the bedside of his dying fa-
ther, and only a few weeks before, in the very house where we
sat, a son, to whom he was greatly attached, had given up his
young soul to God. Such events could not but produce a deep
impression on a thoughtful mind. He told me he had been
reading with interest that little book which has made so much
stir in certain quarters, " Gates Ajar." He thought our ideas
of the future life were too shadowy and dim ; and he seemed
to be groping after something more definite and real in his con-
ceptions of the invisible world. Little did he think he was so
soon to enter it ; to pass within the veil, and to know the great
mystery. What a solace to think of reunions beyond the
grave, which can make the dead forget all the bitterness of
past separations ! " *

The domestic relations of Mr. Raymond are not properly the
subject of extended remark. The veil of privacy should fall
upon the home-life of any man, except in so far as the intima-
cies of the family circle are revealed to the gaze of the casual
visitor, or in so far as they become the visible indexes of charac-
ter.f That Mr. Raymond was kindly to all, is proved by his
public record. That he was tender and affectionate in the-
closer relations of life, all who knew him will testify. He was
apparently reserved in his manner towards those whom he
encountered in ordinary channels of business, but he once ex-
plained that this reserve was the result of a deep-rooted habit
of permitting no interference with the duties of the hour ; for,
like all men who occupy editorial positions, he was daily sub-
jected to annoyance from the inconsiderate. But, once freed
from the restraints of labor, he was remarkable for sociality and
gentleness.

* New York Evangelist, June, 1869.

t While a student in college, Mr. Raymond became enamored of the lady
whom he subsequently married, — Miss Juliette Weaver, the daughter of Mr.
Warren Weaver, a citizen of the village of Winooski, in Vermont. Of si-vrn
children who were born to them, four survive. The oldest son. Mr. Henry
W. Raymond, was finishing his studies in Yale College at the time of his
father's death; and being soon graduated with the honors of his class, en-
tered the profession of Journalism in the office of the Times, where he is now
a diligent and faithful worker.

THE MAN. 221)

No finer tribute was ever paid by man to womiin than that
which John Stuart Mill has recorded in the moving Preface to
his volume entitled "Liberty, "in which he writes : "To the
beloved and deplored memory of her who was the inspirer,and
in part the author, of all that is best in my writings — the
friend and wife whose exalted sense of truth and right was my
strongest incitement, and whose approbation was my chief
reward — I dedicate this volume. Like all that I have writ-
ten for many years, it belongs as much to her as to me ; but
the work as it stands, has had, in a very insufficient degree,

the inestimable advantage of her revision Were I but

capable of interpreting to the world one-half the great thoughts
and noble feelings which are buried in her grave, I should be
the medium of a greater benefit to it than is ever likely to
arise from anything that I can write, unprompted and unas-
sisted by her all but unrivalled wisdom."

The man who could truthfully write such words as these is
the man airainst whom the tongue of scandal never plays, —
upon whose character no taint falls, — whose life is always pure
and sweet and noble, — and upon whose memory there is no
stain.

In closing the pages of this volume which bear directly upon
the history of Mr. Raymond, a final tribute must be paid to
the dial-mini: trait of filial devotion which was so strongly
marked in his eharaeter. His love for his parents was simple
and tender as that, of a child, and it sull'ered no change to the
latest hour of his life. His mother's words, uttered lovingly
while she sorrowed for his loss, form the best epitaph that
could be written over the grave of Henry Jarvis Raymond:

"HE WAS ALWAYS A GOOD SON."

230 HENRY J. EATMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTEE XXIII.

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.

HOW BENNETT WAS BEATEN AT HIS OWN GAME — THE LOSS OF THE COLLINS
STEAMER ARCTIC IN 1854 — MR. BURNS'S NARRATIVE OF THE DISASTER, AND
HOW THE TIMES SECURED IT — A RIDE IN A HORSE-CAR — ADVENTURES OF

A NIGHT THE ITALIAN CAMPAIGN OF 1859 MR. RAYMOND'S "BRILLIANT

RUN" — THE TIMES AND THE "ELBOWS OF THE MINCIO " — A BOHEMIAN-
TRICK — HOW THE TIMES CARICATURED BENNETT — INCIDENTS OF THE CABLE

EXCITEMENT IN 1858 THE WAR CORRESPONDENTS NEWSPAPER REPORTERS

— "JENKINS" — GEORGE WILLIAM CURTIS ON "JENKINS" — PRECISION IN
JOURNALISM — THE EVENING POST'S "INDEX EXPURGATORIUS."

RETURNING to the consideration of Journalism, aside from
the personal career of Mr. Raymond, it is proper to allude to
some of the incidents and anecdotes of newspaper life, a part
of which are connected with the history of the Times.

Although the profession of Journalism is exigeant, it has its
humors ; and many of these arise from the incidents of keen
rivalry. One story of the enterprise of the Times has never
been told, and this is a fitting place in which to tell it : —

HOW BENNETT WAS BEATEN AT HIS OWN GAME.

In September, 1854, the Collins steamer Arctic was lost at
sea. Among her passengers were many prominent citizens of
New York ; and the news of the dreadiul shipwreck carried
poignant sorrow to hundreds of households. Early in Octo-
ber, when the steamer had been long overdue at the port of
Xew York, on her return voyage from Liverpool, vague appre-
hensions of disaster began to prevail ; and, as day after day
passed, without tidings of the missing vessel, wild rumors
filled the air. From day to day, the feeling of dread became
intensified, and the excitement hourly increased. Finally, late
in the night of the 10th of October, a rumor suddenly spread
through the city, to the effect that the Arctic had actually been

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 231

. that then1 had been a fearful loss of human lives; that
:i solitary survivor had re-turned, and that this survivor iiad
brought authentic intelligence of the disaster. This report
reached the ear of the assistant who was then in charge of the
City Department of -the Times; but it readied him at an ad-
vanced hour of the night, when all but himself had finished
their labors, and had returned to their homes. Sending report-
ers out in all directions, with strict charge to spare no pains
in -sifting the rumors of the night, he strove to gather authen-
tic intelligence; but the effort was futile. The reporters re-
turned with news that no trace of the survivor's movements
could be found. A paragraph was accordingly written, an-
nouncing, in guarded phrase, that rumors of the total loss of
the Arc-tie had been current during the night, but that nothing
nf a definite character was known. This announcement,
placed in a prominent part of the Times, under a displayed
heading, was all that it was possible to say. Discomfited, dis-
couraged, and apprehensive, the head of the City Department
then departed for his home.

But the adventures and the excitements of the night were
not destined to be so speedily finished. The perturbed editor,
instinctively feeling that there was something yet unrevealed,
mused while do/ing in a horse-car, at the hour of three o'clock
in the morning: and his strung nerves made him sensitive.
Scarcely had the car gone a half-mile from its starting-point,
when a stranger, hurriedly coining down a side street, jumped
upon the rear platform, evidently in an excited state, and began
a conversation with the conductor, in the hurried and incoherent
manner of a man who had simultaneously heard startling news,
and had indulged in conviviality. The disjointed >enh nces
which fell from the lips of this man furnished a clue to the
watchful edit..r in the furthest corner of the ear, whose hear-
ing was as painfully acute as his professional pride was seri-
ously wounded, — for defeat in the pursuit of news sits heavily
upon the soul of the newspaperman. Tin1 words, " Arctic "
— "only man who had got in" — "Burns" — "St. Nicholas
Hotel " — " 1 lerald ( )!lice " — " all night " — " tired out " —
"bottle of wine" — conveyed distinct ideas. The words

232 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

formed themselves into this shape in the mind of the weary
watcher in the corner: "A man by the name of Burns has
escaped from the wreck of the Arctic ; he is at the St. Nicho-
las Hotel ; he has pushed on towards New York as fast as
possible after landing; he has gravitated to the Herald
Office, knowing that the Herald pays well for exclusive
news ; the Herald has got his story ; and there is a trick to
keep it away from all the other papers ! " Out of the car
dashed the Times man ; down Broadway he tore ; across the
Park, and up to the printing-room of the Times he rushed.
There he found the foreman placidly putting on his coat, in
preparation for departure. " Stop the Press ! " was the first
order uttered. " Why ? " inquired the foreman. " Because the
Herald has got hold of a survivor of the Arctic, and is trying
one of its old games ; but we'll beat yet ! "

A bell tinkled ; a message went down the speaking-tube
which led from composing-room to cellar; the great press
stopped. A workman in the press-room was called up, and
these words passed : —

" South,* you know the Herald office ; they've got hold of a
story about the Arctic, which belongs to all the Press, and
they mean to keep it, and cheat us out of it. I want a copy
of it. I want you to get it in any way you can ; will you do
it?"

" How do you know they've got it ? "

The circumstances were recited.

" All right ! " said " South ; " " I'll get it, provided you don't
ask me any questions."

The promise was given. " South " departed, to return a few
minutes afterwards, with the information that the Herald office
was all alight (the hour was four o'clock in the morning) ; that
the press-room was fast-locked, and that all the carriers and
newsboys had been excluded.

" What shall I do ? " asked " South."

"Get the first copy of the Herald that comes off the press,"
was the order instantly given. "Buy it, beg it, steal it ! any-

* A curious character, named John Long, — now dead.

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 233

, so long as you get it; and to-morrow you shall have
lift y dollars for your trouble."

"Enough said," observed "South."

Twenty minutes later, he appeared in the office of the Times
(then at the corner of Beekman and Nassau Streets) with a
copy of the Herald, containing Mr. George II. Burns's narra-
tive of the loss of the "Arctic," entire, printed in double-
leaded type.

Meanwhile, the whole force of Times' compositors had been
routed out of their beds, by messengers sent in urgent haste ;
each man stood at his "case," "stick" in hand, and when
"South" returned, waving the next morning's Herald triumph-
antly over his head, a mighty "Hurrah !" went up, which might
have been heard for several blocks. The Herald " copy " was
cut up into four-line "takes ; " in an hour the whole story was
in tvpe ; and the people of the Herald, blissfully unconscious
that a copy of that journal had been adroitly abstracted, with-
held all their city circulation until nine A. M., sending off only
the mail copies containing the long-expected relation of the
dreadful disaster. By eight o'clock in the morning, the Times
was procurable at all the news-stands in the city, and its subscrib-
ers had received the news an hour before. Edition after edi-
tion of the TinH'x was called for; and its Hoe press ran with-
out intermission from seven o'clock in the morning until two
o'clock in the afternoon, to supply the continual demand.

Nor was this all, for on the following day the Times gave
twelve columns of statements of pa.-senircrs who had escaped
by boats from the sinking steamer, and one column of editorial
comment upon the disaster. Mr. Raymond, entering full}- into
the >pirit of the occasion, volunteered his services as a reporter,
and for one dayactually put himself under the orders of the City
Editor \\ the matter in charge. It is needless to add

that Mr. Ka\ mond's report was the best of all.

On the following pay-day "South" received his gift from the
proprietors of the 7Y///cx, and the City Editor's salary was
increased at the rate of five dollars a week, as a reward for the
energy he had displayed.*

* Mr. Fletcher Harper, Jr., was theu the publisher of the Time*.

234 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

This incident illustrates one peculiarity of the profession of
Journalism, — namely, the eagerness with which the earliest
news is caught up. Unquestionably, the agents of the Herald
attempted to play a trick, for the man Burns, exhausted by ex-
posure and suffering, had trusted to the honor of the Herald to
furnish to all the Press the important news he brought. There
is reason to believe that a promise of this nature was given, and
then broken. But the Times was able to " beat " the Herald,
despite the trick.

Should the reader be curious to see the narrative which gave
rise to all this excitement, here it is, in full : —

From the New York Times, of Oct. 11, 1854.
"STATEMENT OF MR. BURNS.

" The steamship Arctic, with two hundred and twenty-six passengers,
exclusive of children, one hundred and seventy-five employes, a valuable
cargo and heavy mail, is lost. Of the more than four hundred souls who left
Liverpool on the twentieth ultimo, full of hope, gayety, and health, many re-
turning from a European tour of pleasure, only thirty-two are known to have
been saved, and certainly not more than one hundred can, by any possibility,
have escaped a watery grave.

"In addition to all this, another large steamer, freighted with hundreds of
human beings, has, in all probability met a like fate. The details of the hor-
rible disaster are as follows : —

" On Wednesday, September 27, precisely at twelve o'clock M., in a dense
fog, we came in contact with a bark-rigged iron propeller, with black hull,
salmon-colored bottom, lead-colored poop and boats, and black pipe. She
was bound eastward, and had all sails set, with a strong, fair wind. The
speed of the Arctic at the time was about thirteen knots an hour. The
shock to us appeared slight, but the damage to the other vessel was fright-
ful. Captain Luce instantly ordered the quarter-boats cleared away, and
the chief mate, boatswain, and three sailors went to her relief; before other
boats left, the order was countermanded. The Arctic then described a cir-
cle twice round the wreck, during which time I caught a glimpse of more
than two hundred people clustered on her hurricane deck.

"At this juncture it was first ascertained that we had sustained injury,
and the water was pouring in at our bows. When the first officer came
alongside to report, the captain was unable to take him up, but headed N.
N. W. in the hope of making land. Our position on the previous day, at
twelve o'clock, was lat. 48° 39', long. 45° 27'. We had run about three hundred
and ten miles from the time of this observation until the moment of collision,
and were supposed to be forty miles from Cape Race.

" The pumps were worked vigorously, and an anchor-chain thrown over-
board ; but, in spite of all exertion, the engines stopped and the water extin-
guished the fires. Four of the five other life-boats, believed to have been

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 235

well provisioned, containing the engineers, sailors, a few passengers, and all
the officers except the captain and third mate, left the ship at an early stage,
The majority of the passengers were working at the pumps, — some firing
the signal guns, and others launching spars, under the direction of Captain
Luce and Mr. Dorian, the third mate, to form a raft.

" In order to facilitate this latter work, the sixth and last boat was lowered.
Dorian, one or two firemen, three of the other passengers saved, and myself,
were busily engaged lashing water-casks and settees to the main-yard, two
top-gallant yards, and several smaller spars, — the captain, with a number of
gentlemen, protecting the work by keeping back the crowd, — when a panic
seized all on board, a rush was made, passengers and firemen precipitated
themselves headlong over the bulwarks on to the raft, and in a moment our
little boat was full, and in imminent danger of being sunk.

" In this emergency, Dorian ordered the rope which held us to the steamer
to be cut, and with our hands and axes we paddled from the raft's side.
The mate, who throughout preserved great presence of mind, and labored
with heroic energy, cried out: 'For God's sake, captain, clear the raft, so
that we can work ; I won't desert the ship while there's a timber above
water.

" But the sea was now flush with the dead-lights. In less than three min-
utes from the time he spoke, the stern sunk, — the foam went boiling over
the tumbling heap of human beings, — many were dashed forward against
the pipe. I heard one wild yell (still ringing in my ears), and saw the
Arctic and the struggling mass rapidly engulfed. Numbers yet clung to the
imperfectly constructed raft; but, alas! we could render them no aid. Our
own situation was no less precarious ; and, cruel as it seemed, we were forced
to abandon them to fate.

•• Heaven r.irbid that I should ever witness such another scene! We, how-
ever, picked up two more men. and then, with an overloaded boat, without
oars, tholepins, food or drink, avoiding with difiU'Ulty the fragments of the
wreck, and pas-ing many dead females, prepared for a night upon the ocean.
We secured a floating pumpkin and cabbage, to guard against immediate
starvation, lashed a spar to Jie bow of our boat to keep her head to the wind
and sea. and thus drifted until daylight; the ni^ht was cold and fogity. with
a heavy swell, and. in a cramped, drenched, ajul half- naked condition, we
MI tie red terribly.

"Without dwelling upon our miseries, alleviated much by the con-

!iat we had endeavored to do our duty to our fellow-men, sufiice it to
s-iy. that at live o'clock on the afternoon of the -JStli, we espied a sail, and
raised a handkerchief to attract attention. We were successful. With the
rude substitute for oars which we had constructed during !h<- d.;v !> la>hing
planks to cap-tun bars, with a view of attempting to gain land when ti
subsided, we pulled toward the ship. On our way we passed the remnant of
the raft, with one man on it. apparently alive.

"The bark proved to be the Huron, of St. Andrews. X. 15.. Captain A.
Wall, bound fur (Quebec. Our men -ale on board, the noble-hearted Dorian,
with some of the Huron's crew, returned to the raft, and rescued the poor
fellow, who. for twenty-six hours, had clung to the spars. lie -tales that
after the steamship sunk, he counted seventy-two men and lour women on the

236 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

raft, but at half past eight o'clock he was the only one alive. In the morn-
ing two bodies were beside him, much eaten by fishes, and at the time he
saw our boat he was on the point of voluntarily dropping into the sea to
end his agony. Coming from the raft, Dorian encountered and examined the
life car of the Arctic. It contained a bottle of water, some cheese, and a
lady's garment.

" By the humane captain of the Huron, and Mr. Wellington Cameron, a son
of the owner, we were received with great kindness, our wounds dressed,
fires kindled, and food and clothing provided in abundance. During the night
of the 28th, Captain Wall hung out extra lights, fired rockets, and kept a
horn blowing, in hopes of falling in with the remainder of the boats. But
his endeavors were fruitless. On the evening of the 29th, he spoke the ship
Lebanon, Captain Story, bound for New York, by whom eighteen of our num-
ber were taken off, kindly welcomed, and well-treated.

" We have this moment reached New York, by pilot-boat Christian Borg,
No. 16, to which we were transferred from the Lebanon, and to the crew of
which we are under great obligations.

" The fate of the propeller and our five boats is unknown. If the steamer
was, as I have reason to think, the Charity, from Montreal to Liverpool, she
is, I believe, built with water-tight compartments, or bulkheads, and will
float, notwithstanding the damage to her bow. The fact that a boat left her
which was capsized by our paddles augurs ill for her buoyant condition,
though Captain Wall, of the Huron, on the morning of the 28th, saw a singu-
lar-looking craft far to leeward, but was unable to tell whether she was a
steamer or sailing vessel.

" He says she had a nondescript appearance, and may have been the wreck
of the propeller. The following is a list of those saved in the sixth boat : —

" TAKEN TO QUEBEC BY THE HURON.

James Abry, ship's cook.

Luke McCarthy, fireman.

Joseph Connelly, "

Richard Mahan, "

Thomas Conroy, "

James Connor, "

John Drury, "

Christian Moran, "

James Ward, "

Christopher Callaher, "

Thomas Wilson, assistant engineer.

Robert Byron, waiter.

David Barry, "

Erastus Miller, "

"ARRIVED AT THIS PORT IN THE LEBANON.

Edward Brien, fireman.
Patrick Mahon, "
Thomas Garland, "
Patrick Casey, "

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 237

Patrick Tobin, fireman.

Dobbin Carnagan, "

Thomas Brennan, assistant engineer.

John Connelly, engineers' steward.

Thomas Stinson, officers' steward.

James Carnagan, porter.

Michael McLaughlin, boy.

Peter McCabe (picked off the raft), waiter.

Wm. Nicolls, Trescoa, Sicily Island, passenger.

Henry Jenkins, " "

James Thompson, New Orleans, "

Capt. Paul F. Grann, New York, "

George II. Burns, Philadelphia, "

Francis Dorian, New York, third officer.

"NAMES OP PERSONS KNOWN TO BE IN THE SHIP'S BOATS.

" The five boats which may have reached land, or been picked up, are known
to have contained

Mr. Goveley, first officer.

Thomas Wilde, boatswain.

Mr. Balam, second officer.

Mr. Graham, fourth officer.

Mr. Moore, New York, passenger.

Mr. Rogers, chief engineer.

Mr. Drown, first assistant.

Mr. Walker, second "

Mr. Willett, third "

Daniel Connelly, fireman.

John Moran, "

John Flanigan, "

Patrick McConloy, "

Mr. Dingnel, engineer.

Mr. Kelly, "

Mr. Simpson, "

" And a young man named Robinson, under instructions in the engineer's
department, besides sailors and quartermasters.

ioni:-t Hi. i^(- whom I last saw on the quarter-deck, whilst fastening
life-preservers on the females, and who must have sunk with the ship, or
perisliftl on th<> raft, were Captain Luce and sou, Mrs. E. K. Collins, Master
Colt Collin •lli!i<. Mr. llrmvn and family (connection of the senior

of tin- linn «>f Brown. Shipley & Co., Liverpool), Mr. Thomas, importer of
lio-ii-ry. New York: Mr. Adams, Brooklyn; Mr. Bowers, Cincinnati; Mr.
Charles Springer. Cine'mnati ; James Mnirhoad, Jr., Petersburg, Va. ; Mr.
Hewitt. Mrs. Hewitt and daughter. Krcdericksburg, Va. ; Mr. Wood. New
York; Mr. Y>ahi. Mr. Schmidt, Miss Mar-ton, Falimnith. England : a nephew
of Mr. Hloodi.">od. hotel-keeper, Philadelphia. reading in Albany : the Duke
de Grammont. of the French Emba^y ; second steward, wife and child:
Annie, a colored girl, and Mary, steward. -<«•-: Miss Jones, Mr. Pi-trie and

238 . HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRES8.

lady, Stewart Hollin, Washington, D. C. ; J. Cook, Opelousas, La. ; with
many more, whose names I do not know, but whose features are indelibly
imprinted on my memory.

••A Mr. Comstock, brother to the commander of the Baltic, was drowned
by the capsizing of a boat whilst being lowered.

" Government despatches from France and England, entrusted to my care
by Mr. Buchanan, I could not save.

" The boat in which we escaped was one of Francis's patent metallic, No.
727, from which her capacity can be ascertained and compared with the num-
ber rescued.

" Kespectfully,

"GEO. H. BUKNS.

"Adams & Co.'s Express, Philadelphia.
" New York, October 10, 1854."

In the list of passengers, received by the " Canada " from
Liverpool, were the following among others : —

M. Dupassien, Mrs. Edward K. Collins, of New York,
Miss M. A. Collins and Master C. Collins, O. Fabbricotti,
Mrs. Howland and son, F. "W. Gale and wife, Duke de Gram-
mont and servant, Captain D. Pratt, Edward Sauford, of Xew
York, and G. Gwynet, wife and child.

Mr. Burns, on the morning after his arrival in New York,
went to Adams' Express office, where he was soon surrounded
by a large crowd of anxious persons seeking an interview in
relation to friends and relatives on board the " Arctic." Other
survivors, brought by the Lebanon, went to the Seaman's Re-
treat, on Staten Island.

THE ELBOWS OF THE MINCIO.

IN the Italian campaign of 1859, the newspapers of England,
France, and the United States were engaged in eager rivalry.
The struggle to obtain early and " exclusive " intelligence of
the events of the war continued unabated until the end of the
struggle. The London Times selected its best correspondent
for service in the Italian army; leading French journals
promptly recorded the successes of Napoleon, and glorified the
carnage of Solferino and Magenta ; the New York newspapers
had representatives on all the fields of battle, and the foremost
among these was Mr. Raymond, to whom the 'Times and its

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 2.'5!l

readers were indebted for the clearest and most complete of all
the contemporaneous narratives.

The " brilliant run " executed by Mr. Raymond when he sup-
posed himself pursued by an infuriated squadron of Austrian
cuirassiers has been described in a vivid style, not by him-
self, but by his partner in that singular trial of speed, whose
account is here copied from his own narrative, as originally
published in the Troy Daily Whig : —

" Mr. Raymond has been much ridiculed for things which
never occurred in connection with his visit to the seat of war
in Italy in 1859, and for things which he was in no way actually
responsible for.

" The notable expression, ' the Elbows of the Mincio,' which
appeared in the N. Y. Times editorially, in the summer of 1859,
was by the very accomplished scholar, but eccentric gentleman,
who was then in charge of the editorial columns in Mr. Ray-
mond's absence, and the writer of this heard Mr. Raymond de-
nounce the article, when he first read it in Paris.

" But Mr. Raymond was the ' responsible ' editor of the
Times, and he never shirked or ' went back ' upon his friends
or coadjutors ; so he never disavowed it. Besides, there was
never much need of it, for it helped to convey the idea of a
crooked river on the western side of the Quadrilateral.

"Hut ridicule did not stick to him, for every one respected
hi- prodigious talents and industry as a writer, speaker, par-
liamentarian, and journalist.

" What 1 intended to refer to specially was the famous race
at Castiglione. It has always been thrown at Mr. Raymond,
as it' it involved some lack of courage on his part, and as if it
occurred at some time during the battle of Solferiuo, at the
moment of some apparent reverse to the allied lines,, upon
which he took up his flight in consternation from the field.

"But an entire misapprehension exists as to the time, pla.
when, where, and what occurred. The 'race ' having served
it- turn as a subject for joking, the mi-take may now be cor-
rected.

"The battle of Solferino was on Friday, the 24th of .him-.
1859 ; and the ' race ' was on the next day, from the village of

240 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Castiglione, after the fighting was all over, and the Austrians
had retreated across the Miucio within their fortresses.

" There were in our party at Solferino three Americans, Mr.
Raymond, ' Malakoff' (Dr. "W. E. Johnston), the accomplished
Paris correspondent of the N. Y. Times, and the writer hereof.

" Friday night, after the battle, our party were able, after
considerable trouble, to find a small room in a little old tavern
full of wounded officers, in the village of Castiglione, the near-
est village to the battle-field in rear of the French lines, and as
late as ten o'clock we all sat down about a small table with
only a lighted candle upon it, to ' write up ' the battle of
Solferino.

"Mr. Raymond of course held the pen, each one contribut-
ing his observations of the incidents of the day, and the whole
were engrossed and thrown into shape by Mr. Raymond. He
was after the latest news of the Italian campaign, and was
doing his utmost to beat all contemporaries, by placing the
news of the battle in New York at the first possible moment
for his paper, the New York Times. He succeeded, and beat
even the London Times ten days into New York. It was done in
this way : The account of the battle was made up in six hours
of constant work during the night, and at four o'clock in the
morning of Saturday 'Malakoff' was sent back with our
horses and carriage to the city of Brescia, twenty miles to the
rear, with the despatches for the New York Times, to be
placed on the Emperor's Express to Paris, which would leave
Brescia that day, with the army despatches.

" We had met the London Times' army correspondent on the
field during the day, and several times during the night did
Mr. Raymond exclaim, 'If I can only beat "the Thunderer"
into New York with this news, the Times is made.'

"Mrs. Raymond was then in Paris, and he knew that she
could certainly be found at her hotel without loss of time.
'Malakoff' was acquainted with many French officers, and
could not he get one of the express messengers to go to her
hotel immediately on his arrival at Paris, with a packet from
her husband? The plan succeeded. She felt all the interest
of her husband in the enterprise, and, opening the packet, she

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 241

found his directions to place the enclosure on the first and
fullest steamer leaving either France or England for New
York, at any expense of energy and money.

" She was equal to the emergency, and in less than thirty
hours thereafter she placed the despatches herself on board the
steamer just leaving Liverpool for New York, and his success
was complete ; for, although ' the Thunderer ' got the news by
the same express, it did not get to press and to Liverpool in
time for the steamer, and ten days must intervene before it
oould reach New York.

w Now for the ' race/

"Malakoff* had gone to the rear with our horses and car-
riage, and could not return probably before the next morning
(Sunday) , and after a little rest and a poor apology for a break-
fast, we hired a man to drive us out in a one-horse carriage
over the field, for an inspection of the previous days' work.

w Mr. Raymond never took much rest if there was anything
of interest to be seen or done, until after it was accomplished.
He was even then — ten years ago — an overworked man , and
I have since frequently noticed that his brain was too much for
his physique.

" \\'c went out on the battle-field and saw what we could in
five or six hours of travel and inspection. The day was very
warm, and about two o'clock in the afternoon we returned to
the village of ( 'astaglione for some refreshments. Our driver
turned in with his horse to the first place he found, and we two
walked on further into the village by the main street, and came
to a tavern wholly occupied by wounded soldiers, where, sit-
ting down on the platform, we called for and obtained some
bread and wine.

"The village was tilled with wounded men, — stragglers and
I>ri>oners taken from the Austrian*, and they occupied every
nook and eorner of the place. And as the military authorities
and the army, except the irnards. had irone on and eneamped
some six miles beyond, every t hi n;.r was loose and demorali/ed
in the j>la<v, for want of command.

r'lt was just at this moment, and before we had finished our
repa>t, that an alarm was heard coming down the street from
16

242 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

the direction of the battle-field, and, increasing in its progress,
developed into a full-fledged panic as it came to us, bearing
along the narrow street crowds of all sorts of people, frantic
with fear, and running for their lives, and exclaiming, ' The
Austrians are coming to kill the wounded soldiers and liberate
the prisoners.'

" The whole population was on the run down the street to
the opposite side of the village, and out into the open coun-
try.

" Mr. Raymond and myself both joined that procession, and
for the first mile kept up with the best of them, all making
good time.

"When outside of the village, we turned off from the mili-
tary road, which was thronged, and took a country road lead-
ing circuitously to the village of Monte Chiaro, five or six
miles back on the same military road.

" Being somewhat exhausted at the end of the first mile, and
beginning to collect our wits, and venturing to look over our
shoulders for the Austrians in pursuit, and seeing none, we
'slowed down' into a walk, and made our way back into Monte
Chiaro in about two hours, where we waited for the return of
'MalakofF from Brescia, and with whom the next morning
(Sunday), we returned to Castiglione, and so on to the battle-
field again, to complete our inspection.

" The panic arose among the teamsters in the trains moving
on the road leading from Castiglione, through the battle-field,
toward Mantua.

" A small detachment of Austrian cavalry, which had been
separated from its command on the day of the battle, and
laid on the field over night, unable to make its way back into
the Austrian lines, came up on to the road to surrender.

"Their appearance frightened the teamsters, who imagined
the Austrians had returned, and they turned right about and
drove back at top speed to Castiglione, with the hue and cry,
and thus inaugurated a panic which extended for twenty miles
along the military road, and was not stayed until it reached
the walls of Brescia.

; ' The situation ' ^vas this : The whole victorious French

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 243

Army was between us and the Austrians ; and how foolish to
be startled at such a cry at such a time, and to be borne along
by such a crowd ! It is conceded that a panic is a senseless
thing ; but we do not discover that till after it is all over. It
takes us by surprise, and allows no time to reason.

" Thus was the ' Race ' got up and run. Probably few pru-
dent men could be found, who, under the circumstances, would
have failed to take part in it.

"It was at least a new sensation, and the recollection of it,
although often the topic of raillery, has not been without its
compensations in cementing a friendship of more than thirty
years.

"For it has since been our habit, annually, to commemorate
in a social way, these two days, — the grandest in all my ex-
perience,— to fight the battle of Solferino, and to run the racer
from Castiglione over again, year by year, until now — Death
has taken my friend and companion in the race, and 'I only
am escaped alone to tell the story.' Peace to his ashes ! "

Mr. William Henry Hurlbut was in charge of the foreign
department of the Times while Mr. Raymond was absent from
New York, and the latter was in no sense responsible for the
comical article quoted below.

The essay on the w Elbows of the Mincio " consisted of phrases
which, though disjointed, were in every sense spirited. The
space occupied was one column of the Times; the title, "The
Defensive Square of Austrian Italy." Opening with a concise
statement of the self-imprisonment of the Austrians within
" their famous strategic square," the writer proceeded to show
the strength of the Quadrilateral. There were in this part of
the article some clever touches ; but the pause was sudden, and
all that followed the introductory paragraphs was incoherent.

An effort was made in the evening edition of the Times to
correct the absurdities of the intoxicated paragraph. An
explanatory note was published, reading as follows : —

41 CORRECTION.

" We owe it to oar readers to say that, by a confusion of manuscripts, set
up at a very late hour Jast evening, our leading article on the Austrian de~

244

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Tensive square in Italy was made utterly unintelligible. We have remedied
the errors in this evening's edition of the Times."

But the evil had been done ; and to this day men laugh
when they speak of this remarkable production.

Inasmuch as the article in question is entitled to rank among
the curiosities of literature,* and especially as it is a part of the
history of the Times which is not likely to be forgotten, the
Bacchic and the sober versions are here given in full : —

"THE DEFENSIVE SQUARE OF
AUSTRIAN ITALY.

The Morning Version.

" When the Austrians were beaten
at Magenta, a sudden conviction
seems to have seized upon their
leaders, that if they could once put
their forces in safety beyond the lines
of the Chiese and the Mincio, they
would be able to make head against
the courage and skill of France. The
extraordinary speed with which the
French troops were moved across the
Alps to the succor of Turin and of
the Piedmontese provinces seems to
have paralyzed for a moment the
energy of the Savoyards, and the
skilful movements by which the Sar-
dinian troops were brought into rela-
tions with the village insurrections
of the Lombard people combined to
make the Austrian authorities under-
stand the impossibility of holding
their ground against a disorganized
and revolutionary people. The Aus-
trians, following up the strategic
plans of Marshal Radetsky in 1848,
abandoned with an unwise haste
their first lines of defence upon the
Mincio, and threw themselves beyond
the river, in the empty hope of beat-
ing back the allied troops.

"The result of this mad enterprise
has been their complete imprison-
ment within their famous strategic
square.

"THE DEFENSIVE SQUARE OF
AUSTRIAN ITALY.

The Evening Version.

"When the Austrians were beaten
at Magenta, a sudden conviction
seems to have seized upon their lead-
ers, that if they could once put their
forces in safety beyond the lines of
the Chiese and the Mincio, they
would be able to make head against
the courage and the skill of France.
The extraordinary speed with which
the French troops were moved across
the Alps to the succor of Turin and
of the Piedmontese provinces seems
to have paralyzed for a moment the
energy of their generals, and the
skilful movements by which the Sar-
dinian troops were brought into rela-
tions with the village insurrections
of the Lombard people combined" to
make the Austrian authorities under-
stand the impossibility of holding
their ground against a disorganized
and revolutionary people. The Aus-
trians retreated accordingly, follow-
ing up the strategic plans of Mar-
shal Radetsky in 1848, but, after
reaching their square, abandoned
with an unwise haste their first lines
of defence upon the Mincio, and
threw themselves beyond the river,
in the empty hope of beating back
the allied troops.

"The result of this mad enterprise
has been their complete imprison-

* Part of this chapter appeared in Packard's Monthly for December, 1869.

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.

245

" The square is closed to the north
by the la.st spur of the Alps on the
shores of the Lago cli Garda ; to the
west it is defended by the Mincio,
which leaves the Lake of Garda at
Pcschiera, waters the plains of Man-
tua, and joins the Po at fifteen
leagues' distance from its springs at
Goverualo, after opening a real lake,
on the banks of which lie the for-
tresses of Mantua ; to the south the
strategic square is defended by the
line of the River Po, which flows
beneath the walls of Cremona, and
draws to itself all the torrents flow-
ing from the Alps ; to the east the
boundary of the Austrian defences is
formed by the Adige, which descends
from the mountains of Switzerland,
and flows on a parallel line with the
Po, after passing by Trent, Roveredo,
Verona, and Legnago. The strength
•of a position so fortified by nature
and by art does not need to be de-
veloped. It borrows strategic im-
portance from the numerous breaks
of the ground, which — if we may be
pardoned for the expression — seem
but to have formed the successive
step* in the natural defence of Aus-
trian Italy.

"But if nature has done much for
the ' strategic square,' art has done
more.

" Austria has neglected nothing
which might assure her dominion
over the waters of the Danube. She
has done all in her power to favor the
i'lnrnt of Europe, which is the
pacific <l< i'< 1 1 unni nt of Knijland, She
ha* dealt with edged tools — boldly,
but in" Mire, in utter vanity.

"In 1848 Pesehiera \vas captured
by the Sardinians, under King Charles
Albert; but there can be no doubt
that the French bore away from the
first tight of Magenta very qm stimi-
able compliments. At this time the
Sardinians, under the Duke of Genoa,

ment within their famous strategic
square.

"The square is closed to the north
by the last spur of the Alps on the
shores of the Lago di Garda; to the
west it is defended by the Mincio,
which leaves the Lake of Garda at
Pesehiera, waters the plains of Man-
tua, and joins the Po at fifteen
leagues' distance from its springs at
Governolo, after opening a real lake,
on the banks of which lie the for-
tresses of Mantua; to the south the
strategic square is defended by the
line of the River Po, which flows
beneath the walls of Cremona, and
draws to itself all the torrents flow-
ing from the Alps ; to the east, the
boundary of the Austrian defences
Is formed by the Adige, which de-
scends from the mountains of Switz-
erland, and flows on a parallel line
with the Po, after passing by Trent,
Roveredo, Verona, and Legnago.
The strength of a position so forti-
fied by nature and by art does not
need to be developed. It borrows
strategic importance from the numer-
ous breaks of the ground, which —
if we may be pardoned for the ex-
pression — seem but to have formed
the successive steps in the natural
defence of Austrian Italy.

"But, if nature has done much for
the ' strategic square,' art has done
more.

" Austria has neglected nothing
which might ensure communication
with her dominions watered by the
Danube. She has made a broad road
in the direction of the Alps, to unite
the regions of the Vorarlbcrg and the
Tyrol with Lombardy by the pass of
the Stelvio. This toad passes through
the Vatelllne, runs around the Lake
of Corno, and ends at Bergamo. It
may serve as well for the retreat of
the beaten Austrians into the Tyrol,
as for the advance of the victorious

246

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

were ready to defend the famous
Quadrilateral. To-day the Quadri-
lateral has ceased to exist.

" The fortress of Peschiera lies on an
isle near the scene of the late conflict.

" A broad road has been made by
Austria, in the direction of the Alps,
to unite the regions of the Vorarl-
berg and the Tyrol with Lombardy,
by the pass of the Stelvio. This road
passes through the Vatelline, runs
around the Lake of Como, and ends
at Bergamo. It may serve as well
for the retreat of the beaten Austri-
ans into the Tyrol as for the advance
of the victorious Austrians upon
Italy. Two railways pass also by
this central point of the Austrian
position. One of these railways
unites Lombardy with Vienna, by
circling around the crescent of the
North Adriatic; the other, leaving
Botzen, in the Tyrol, skirts the Lago
di Garda, touches Trent, Koveredo
and Verona, and by a branch road
reaches Mantua, and thus unites the
two main angles of the famous
square. The New York Herald, in
giving yesterday a pretended map
of this square, carefully omitted the
bridge-head of Legnago, and thus
converted the square into a triangle.
The strength of Peschiera and Leg-
nago is out of all proportion to the
besieging force. The main merit of
Peschiera is that this fortress lies on
an island, and was captured by the
Duke of Genoa in 1848. At this time
the Sardinians crossed the Miucio
after several hours' hard fighting:
and if we follow the windings of the
Mincio, we shall find countless elbows
formed in the elbows of the regular
army, at places like Salianza, Molini,
and Borghetto. These places make
up the base of the allied army. The
line of the Mincio is the base of the
new campaign we are about to open.

" Almost at the southern end of

Austrians upon Italy. Two railways
pass also by this central point of the
Austrian position. One of these rail-
ways unites Lombardy with Vienna,
by circling around the crescent of the
North Adriatic; the other, leaving
Botzen in the Tyrol, skirts the Lago
. di Garda, touches Trent, Roveredo,
and Verona, and by a branch road
reaches Mantua, and thus unites the
two main angles of the famous
square. The New York Herald, in
giving yesterday a pretended map of
this square, carefully omitted the
bridge-head of Legnago, and thus
converted the square into a triangle.
The strength of Peschiera and Leg-
nago is out of all proportion to that
of Mantua and Verona; but both
positions are important keys of the
square.

" The main merit of Peschiera,
which lies on an island in the Miucio,
is that it commands the sluices by
which the body of that stream can be
suddenly swollen from the lake.

" The investment of Peschiera by
the Sardinians, now complete, has
destroyed the Quadrilateral for the
time being. Nor for the first time.
For Peschiera was taken by the Sar-
dinians, under the Duke of Genoa, in
1848. At this time the Sardinians
crossed the Mincio after several
hours' hard fighting. If we follow the
windings of this river, we shall find
countless elbows formed in the right
bank, favorable to the passage of
troops, such as Salianza, Molini, and
Borghetto. The allies probably
passed at all these points, and are
masters of the whole course of the
Mincio to Goito. The line of the
Mincio is the base of the new cam-
paign now about to open.

" Almost at the southern end of the
river Mincio lies the strong fortress
of Mantua, the only Gibraltar of
Austria in Italy guaranteed by the

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.

247

the River Mincio lies the strong for-
tress of Mantua, the only Gibraltar of
Austria in It:vly, guaranteed by the
treaties of 1815. Mantua, as we
have said, lies on a lake of the River
Minrio. In spite of the labors spent
upon it, Mantua still holds the next
rank to Verona. It is a post of dan-
ger for the army shut between its
walls, rather than for the enemy
without. After a battle of several
hours' duration, the Sardinians, at
Goito, gave way; and if we follow
up the course of the Mincio, ice shall
i-Vii»rx farmed by the
of ymiih. Defended by
Wurmser, in 1707, Austria surren-
dered to Napoleon III. in 1859. Not-
withstanding the toil spent by Aus-
tria on the spot, tee should have
learned that we are protected by a for-
eign flfct suddenly coming up on our
question of citizenxliip. A canal cuts
Mantua in two ; but we may rely on the
most cordial Cabinet Minister of the
newpoiccr in Enylnnd.

" Mantua is protected in the centre
by live ilctached forts: the Citadel,
Pradella, Castle of .Faith, St. George,
audMigliaretto, which commands Cre-
nioua, Borgo Forte, and (Jovernolo.

" A canal divides Mantua, and makes
a small port in the lake, communicat-
ing by live fortitled roadways with
the land.

"At Roverbello are machines for
flooding tin- whole region, and in the
upper lake tlnats an Austrian squad-
ron. The region lift wren Mantua
and the I'o is impracticable for an
army. "/Vx a mi t rah full <»//

On thi* <•: Ki-i'iit* /;<i;<m/-

nable. lim the line from

Man tint !<• I I.. u'na-o is n,)

stronger than IVschiera, but it has
the double advantage of a bridge
over the Adige.aud of dikes ready to
inundate the whole Adriatic region.
The fourth lace of the square links

treaties of 1815. Mantua, as we have
said, lies on a lake of the River Min-
cio. In spite of the labors spent
upon it, Mantua still holds the next
rank to Verona. It is a post of dan-
ger for the army shut between its
walls, rather than for the enemy
without.

"A canal divides Mantua, and
makes a small port in the lake, com-
municating by five fortified road-
ways with the land.

"The place is protected in the
centre by live detached forts: the
Citadel, Pradella, C;istle of Faith, St.
George, and Migliaretto, which com-
mands Cremona, Borgo Forte, and
Govcrnolo.

"At Roverbello arc machines for
flooding the whole region, and in the
upper lake floats an Austrian squad-
ron. The region between Mantua
and the Po is impracticable for an
army. 'Tis a marsh full of fevers.
On this side the square seems im-
pregnable. Legnago is no stronger
than Peschiera, but it has the double
advantage of a bridge over the Adige
and of dikes ready to inundate the
whole Adriatic region. The fourth
face of the square links Verona to
Legnago. This is the best defensive
line of Austria in Italy. At Verona
the last sweeps of the Alps fall about
the river; and seven fortresses on the
crests of these hills command the
whole region and all its approaches.
Within and without, twenty several
forts make this point the real heart
of the Austrian dominion. But not
only in the circle of its fort ideations
i> Verona strong. The Adige there
is swift and deep; it can only be '
pa>sed at Cerpi and Bu>sol<-iigo in
the face of a thousand perils. As
Colonel Charolais, to whom we are
indebted for the very bes: description
of this great square, very irtih
the destiny of Austria must be de-

248 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Verona to Legnago. This is the cided by a battle before Verona after

best defensive line of Austria in the fall of Peschiera."

Italy. At Verona the last features

of the opposition lingered. The

Adige is swift and deep at Verona;

it can only be passed at Cerpi and

Bussolengo in the face of a thousand

perils. Paris is strong in her circle of

fortifications."

Four distinct subjects were evidently in the mind of the
writer when he sat down to pen this remarkable effusion.
These subjects were the defensive square, the military strength
of Austria, the new Cabinet formed in England, and the mass-
ive fortifications with which Napoleon was then environing
Paris. Unfortunately, although each of these topics was in
itself interesting and important, they did not fuse well togeth-
er, for the simple reason that champagne is not a chemical sol-
vent. The defensive square happened to be in Italy, therefore
"the most cordial Cabinet minister of England" had nothing
whatever to do with it; the fortifications of Paris, albeit of
great value to France, had no necessary connection with "the
canal which cut Mantua in two ; " and the meaning of the writ-
er was so hopelessly obscured in the passage asserting
" that we are protected by a foreign fleet suddenly coming up
on our question of citizenship," that no seer could throw light
upon it.

RAYMOND CHALLENGED TO FIGHT A DUEL.

IN December, 1856, Mr. Raymond received a challenge to
mortal combat from the late Thomas Francis Meagher. He
respectfully declined to be made a target for the indignant
Meagher ; but the story of this affair is worth a page of record.
It is well told in the following extracts from the columns of the
Times : —

From the Times of December 30, 1856. — Editorial.
"MR. MEAGHER'S PAROLE AND ESCAPE FROM AUSTRALIA.

" As a recent allusion in the Times to the circumstances under which Mr.
T. F. Meagher made his escape from the penal imprisonment in Australia, to
•which he had been condemned for political offences, has excited a very gen-
eral public interest In the matter, we republish this morning, from the Dub-

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 249

lin y<t(<n)>, the only detailed account of It, so far as we are aware, whirl) has
over been given. It was written, it will be observed, by one of the parties
by whom I lie arrangements for Meagher's escape were made, and who
funned one of the ' body-guard ' which attended upon him. It is likely,
therefore, to be accurate, and quite as favorable for Mr. Meagher, as any
statement of the affair which could be made.

" It seems, from this account, that, previous to accepting: his ' ticket of leave,'
Mr. Measlier was in close custody of the police, and that upon receiving
the ticket lie was allowed freedom of movement within a certain district,
and intercourse with his friends, upon giving his parole of honor that 'he
would not attempt to leave the Colony.' This parole was renewable every
six months; and Meagher's expired on the 3d of January. On that day he
wrote to the magistrate of the district to which he was restricted, stating
that it was not hi.s intention to renew it, and inviting the police to come
to his house where he should remain, and arrest him. This letter, it is
stated, was delivered to the magistrate at ten o'clock in the morning; and
at about ten o'clock at night the constable of the district, with two or three
policemen, presented themselves at Meagher's house with the warrant for
his arrest. Mr. Meagher, however, was not within. He was at a little dis-
tance from the house cousulting with some friends, who had collected for the
purpose of preventing his arrest. Meagher's servant informed him that the
police were in the house, whereupon Mr. Meagher mounted a 'noble steed
which had been provided, and accompanied by his four guards,' one in ad-
vance, one on his right, one on his left, and one in the rear, rode up to the
police, and when about a dozen yards distant, called out to the constable,
declaring his name, and his intention of escaping, and informing that officer
further that it was his duty to ' take him into custody if he coulfl.' Having
given this challenge, Mr. Meagher, surrounded by his guard, rode off unar-
rested and unmolested by the police. And that was the manner of his escape.

"The only account of the affair, as we have already stated, is given in the
letter from which those facts are taken. If that be authentic, it shows con-
clusively, in the first place, that friends were collected, horses procured,
routes selected, and all the arrangements for escape made, under the protec-
tion of the 1'ttrnli- ; and that their execution was all that was postponed until
after its Mirrender. How far this was consistent with the honorable engage-
ment not to ^utti nijit to escape,' while holding the ticket of leave, we are not
sufficiently skilled in the etiquette of such matters to decide. If these prepa-
rations fonn any ]»trt of that ' attempt,' to that extent, it would seem, they
must have been in violation of the pledge.

" The Inter shows, in the second place, that Mr. Meagher, upon withdraw-
ing his j"!!-:-!' and surrendering his ticket-of-leave, did not submit himself
again to the coMody of the police at all. He presented himself to them,
and called upon them to arrest him; but this was accompanied by a declara-
tion of his purpose not to allow himself to be arrested, and under circum-
stances which showed that he was prepared and able to resist an attempt at
arrest, with prospects of success. I'nlcss there was an obligation e\p'
or implied in the parole, that he would, upon surrendering it. place himself
in stain </""• resume the position he held before accepting it,— there may
have been in tin's proeeedini; no violation of his parole. If tin-re was m it
any such engagement, then it was manifestly and openly disregarded.

250 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

"This seems to be the exact state of the case in regard to Mr. Meagher's
evasion of his political imprisonment. We rejoiced in common with others
at his deliverance from such a captivity, and have never been inclined to crit-
icise, with any undue severity, the manner in which it was accomplished.
Indeed, we have never, until reading, for the first time yesterday, the letter
from the Nation, which we reprint this morning, been acquainted, from any
other source than vague rumor, with its details. We recur to the matter
now, only because it has become, by Mr. Meagher's own act, a subject of
fresh interest, and one upon which he apparently invites the scrutiny and
judgment of the public."

From the Times of December 6, 1856.
"A PERSONAL EXPLANATION.

" We have received a note from Mr. T. F. Meagher, inquiring whether, by
an expression used in a recent paragraph in the Times, we intended to charge
that he had, at any time, ' broken his parole.' Certainly not. We did not
suppose that the language used conveyed any such meaning; or, indeed, ex-
pressed any opinion upon that point. Although the paragraph in which it
occurred was written under the provocation of a very offensive personal
article, in Mr. Meagher's Irish News, it was not intended to transcend the or-
dinary limits and proprieties of newspaper controversy, or to cast any re-
proach upon the personal character of Mr. Meagher."

A BOHEMIAN TRICK.

To the Bohemian mind, all labor seems fit for slaves. There
should be gentlemanly leisure for those whom the gods endow
with wit ; nectar and ambrosia are their proper food ; silken
raiment and luxurious repose their right. So thinking, the
old Bohemians in New York, who clung to their quasi connec-
tions with the newspapers, — the race has almost disappeared,
— worked for a living only when their stomachs cried cup-
board, or when long-suffering landladies became indignant or
offensively personal. Mrs. Raddles has sent the Bohemian on
many expeditious, when he would have remained supine but for
the confiscation of the tumblers, and the stoppage of the hot
water.

The general uncertainty which characterized the Bohemians'
efforts merged into something closely resembling dishonesty —
for they were not particular as to the manner of supplying
pressing want. Having a happy knack of turning their facul-
ties to account, their busy brains readily devised some ingen-
ious plan for replenishing an exhausted exchequer, or for restor-

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 251

HILT :i fading credit. A plan was no sooner conceived than it
was put in execution, and the result was usually satisfactory to
the inventor, however disagreeable it might have appeared to
the victim.

An illustration of this Bohemian trickery was given, several
years ago, in the office of the New York Times. One of the
brightest, best-read, and most reckless of the Bohemians of
the city, suddenly nipped by evil fortune, secluded himself for
a day from the gaze of his fellows, and then appeared in the
editorial room with a roll of manuscript. It was a Carrier's
Address in verse, intended for the first of January, admirably
written, full of local hits, crackling with fun. It was gladly
accepted. " Could you let me have forty dollars ?" asked the
poet. In violation of a rule in force in newspaper offices,
which prohibits prepayment for literary contributions, the
money was given, and in the evening there was high revel at
i'lalfs, — an underground saloon on Broadway much frequented
by the Bohemians of the day. The New Year arrived ; and
the Times Carriers' Address was widelv distributed and gen-

»/ o

crally read. It was a creditable literary performance, — in
fact, tar superior to the average character of these annual in-
11 i< 'lions. But a stray copy was found by a reader of the Times
in a western town; and this person, struck by lines in the
poem which seemed familiar, made some investigations. It
then appeared that the dishonest poet had '"adopted" an old
Address, changing the order of the verses, adding bits of local
color, interjecting a few allusions to the principal events of
the year, and then successfully passing it off as an original
production.

PERSONAL ABUSE.

IN an earlier chapter, some account has been given of the
personalities of Xew York .Journalism. AVhile the habit of
calling hard names has been partly mended by the general
elevation of the tone of newspaper writing, there are still too
many proofs of its existence. One such illustration, of the
year ist'.l. i> part of the incidental history of the Times.
Although Mr. Uavmond had announced the principle that per-

252 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

sonal attacks should never appear in the columns of his paper,
he finally reached a point where he thought forbearance had
ceased to be a virtue, — and he made the mistake of caricaturing
Bennett.

On the llth of December, 1861, two caricature pictures of
James Gordon Bennett appeared on the first page of the Times,
One of these pictures represented Bennett, in Scotch costume,
and with two little horns budding from his head, busily em-
ployed in inflating a wind-bag labelled " Herald" Below it
the following words were printed, in large letters, stretching
across two columns of the paper.

"BROTHER BENNETT (PROFANELY STYLED 'THE SATANIC'); INFLATING HIS
WELL-KNOWN FIRST-CLASS, A NO. 1 WIND-BAG, HERALD."

From the Herald, Nov. 2.

"Whether the Tribune or the Times has the larger circulation, we are unable
to decide. According to recent accounts, they both of them distribute some-
where between twenty-five and thirty thousand daily.

" Of this we are not certain, but concerning the Herald, there can be no
doubt. Its daily sale of papers averages from one hundred and five thou-
sand to one hundred and thirty-five thousand.

From the Herald, Nov. 3.

" It remains doubtful whether the Times or Tribune will be discovered to be
ahead, but in no case will it appear that both of them together have one-half
as many subscribers as the Herald, which sells from one hundred and five
thousand to one hundred and thirty-five thousand of its daily issue."

From the Herald, Thursday, Nov. 7.

" We have attained a daily issue as high as one hundred and thirty-five thou-
sand. Next to the Herald comes the Tribune and the Times, but far in the
rear, for we presume that neither the Times nor the Tribune can boast of an
average beyond twenty-five thousand dailies."

From the Herald, Saturday, Nov. 9.

"In regard to our circulation, we did not say that it was one hundred and
thirty-five thousand every day; but that it exceeded one hundred thousand
every day."

"HOW THE AFORESAID FIRST-CLASS WIND-BAG WAS PUNCTURED BY THE
FOLLOWING WAGERS OFFERED BY THE TIMES : —

$2,500 that the Herald's daily issue is not . . . 135,000

2,500 that it is not 105.000

2,500 that it is not 100.000

2,500 that it is not 75,000

2,500 that the Times' average daily issue is over . 25,000

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 253

2,500 that it is over 30.000

2,500 that it is over 40,000

2,500 that it is over 60,000

2,500 that it Ls over <X)"

[Tlic conditions of this wager were that one-half the whole amount should

be forthwith deposited in bank, and that the whole sum should be handed

over by the winner to the families of volunteer soldiers.*]

The second part pictured Bennett in a recumbent posture,
exhausted and dying; pins inserted into the bag had punctured
it so badly that the wind had all escaped; and below were
these words : —

" DISASTROUS RESULT !
11 BROTHER BENNETT RESORTS TO THE CONSOLATIONS OF RELIGION."

From the Herald, Dec. 5.

" Betting, even when fair, is against our religion, and we cannot consent to
let him have the information he seeks in that way."

From the Herald, Dec. 7.

"Mr. Mephistophiles Greeley and that little villain Raymond are greatly
moved upon the subject of the relative circulation of the Herald and their
own petty pnprrs, and are affected to tears about the mutter. We are sorry
for them; but their attempts to inveigle us into a silly bet are absolutely
in vain. The practice of betting is immoral. We cannot approve of it. It
may suit Greeley and Raymond, who have exhibited very little morality iu the
conduct of their journals, but it will not do for us."

This was undignified, but funny, — for the caricatures were
deigned with spirit, and the rebuke to the Herald was very
\\cll deserved. Nevertheless it was an absurd act of the pro-
prietors of the Times to indulge in a performance suited only
to the pages of some low comic weekly. Raymond himself
was afterwards ashamed of it. It resulted in no service to
the 7Y/.'/™, and it did not injure the Ilemld; for no man gains
l>y abusing his neighbor; and he who is abused inevitably re-
ceives a certain decree of sympathy. Fair ridienle is some-
times justifiable ; but objurgation defeats its own end.

This incident is cited as a fragment of the history of the
Tiiiif*. That journal has so seldom published illustrations,
that it is inteiv>ting to know the reasons why its conductors
tirst violated their own rule.

* This waa in tho first year of tho Civil War.

254. HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

INCIDENTS OF THE CABLE EXCITEMENT.

IN August, 1858, the city of New York had one of its great
periodical excitements. The occasion was the successful land-
ing of the first Atlantic Telegraph Cable. The United States
frigate Niagara, under command of Captain Hudson, having
finished her part of that undertaking, arrived in the harbor of
New York on the 18th of August, and the vessel and all that
belonged to her at once became transfigured before the vision
of the excitable populace. The best illustration of the intense
fever of the moment is to be found in the columns of the
Times of the following day. " The Niagara," said the Times,
" moved slowly up the East River to the place where she now
lies, opposite the Navy Yard. Her progress was a magnifi-
cent ovation. The piers on either side, the rigging of the
vessels at anchor, the tops and windows of the houses, were
alive with spectators, whose joyous huzzas swept over the wa-
ter like distant music. The ferry-boats, crammed with passen-
gers, many of whom were obliged to mount the upper decks,
diverged from their respective courses, circumvented the
majestic ship as she moved lazily against the ebbing tide, and
saluted her by dipping their colors, — the people cheering all
the time as if they were going mad. Every passing craft, from
the mud-scow to the emigrant-ship, contributed its quota of
admiring applause. As the night fell, the buildings facing the
river were, here and there, illuminated, shining like big pieces
cut out of the starlit sky, and set up on end. By and by a
rocket would appear, darting up through the air, and bursting
into a shower of blazing spray, whose reflection played over
the rippling water as if of a shattered moonbeam. But these
displays paled their ineffectual fires before that which Heaven
provided. The lightning, which Franklin caught and Morse
taught, burst out, and glowed and frolicked from behind the
black clouds that rose pile on pile in the west, as if it were
conscious of the new conquest in which it was to play so essen-
tial a part, and in achieving which the Niagara had rendered
so important service. But at length the Niagara arrived at
her anchorage ground, and was fastened to a buoy. She was

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 255

immediately surrounded by small boats, which came from the
.shore in flocks. Everything on hoard was bustle and confu-
sion. The officers and crew, delighted with the prospect of so
pleasant a termination to so arduous and tedious an absence,
ran hither and thither in all the flurry excited by the prospect
of approaching relaxation. Yet all was order. The discipline
of the vessel was never for a moment disregarded."

Two days previously, the telegraphic announcement of the
interchange of Cable messages between Queen Victoria and
President Buchanan had been received with shouts of joy, and
the Times printed it under a heading which occupied the space
of half a column, reading as follows : —

" The Ocean Telegraph.

Victory at Last !
The First Message.
England Greets America.
Queeu Victoria

President Buchanan.
The President's Reply.
Triumphant Completion

of the

Great Work of the Century.
The Old World and the New United.
Gloria in Excelsis ! "

The world grows prosaic. In the eleven years that have
since run by, the laving of deep-sea cables has become a com-
inuii allair; and all of us now read, without an emotion of
surprise, the news of what the Old World did one hour ago.
The only marvel is, that such .^peed was not made in our
father.-' time.

TUT. WAK roi:i:i>r<>M>r.\TS.

Tin: spirit of newspaper enterprise which led the owners of
the London 7V///r.<j to send .Mr. William II. Russell to this
country to observe the progress of the Civil War in 1»'>1 .
also operative in a similar direction among the eondneto;
American journals. In the early days of the war, the London

256 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Times was regarded as an authority on all subjects ; and its
special correspondent was received, as soon as he had lauded,
with much courtesy, and abundant offers of assistance. Mr.
Russell, however, came here to prepare wares for a Tory and
Secessionist market, and he spiced his letters with condiments
that were too hot for the average American palate. For a
time, his letters were regularly copied into the New York
papers, and from the latter into a majority of the local journals
in all parts of the United States ; but when Russell began to
tell fibs, and the London Times to praise the Secessionists con-
tinually, the practice of copying fell off, and the London Times
and its correspondent simultaneously became offensive.

Meanwhile, the " war correspondents " who had been sent
out to the battle-fields to represent the newspapers of New
York throve and grew famous. They were true, loyal men;
shrewd observers, who saw the events of the time with
clear vision ; who had been drilled in newspaper harness until
they had become diligent and intelligent workers. Knowing
exactly what was wanted, they furnished the earliest intelli-
gence, often outstripping the couriers of the army, and giving
the government itself tidings of great successes, or of greater
defeats, hours or days before the reports of the officers in com-
mand had reached the head-quarters at "Washington.* Often

* The extreme enterprise of some of the war correspondents often led them
into indiscretions. The following curious letter from General Butler, written
in 1864, possesses a sort of historical interest from its bearing upon such
cases : —

"HEAD-QUARTERS DEPARTMENT VIRGINIA AND}
NORTH CAROLINA, IN THE FIF.I.D,

Sept. 25, 18G4. )

" To Newspaper Correspondents connected with the Army of the James, and in
the Department of Virginia and North Carolina.

" GENTLEMEN : — I need not say to you, probably, that I have never inter-
fered with the quantity, kind, or quality of your communications in regard
to the movements of the Army of the James, or in this Department. I have
stated to some of you that I desired that you should speak only of acts done,
and to say nothing of movements when in preparation or while in progress.
Forty-eight (48) hours, at the farthest, brings to the enemy in printed form as
well the speculations and prognostications of events about to happen, in
which you may indulge, as the facts that have already happened which you
narrate.

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 257

they encountered serious perils, and at different times some of
them were captured by the enemy; but their courage was
i airainst all disaster, and the volumes in which they have
since recorded their observations and adventures are valuable
contributions to the history of the great conflict.

NEWSPAPER REPORTERS.

THE newspaper reporters form a singular class, whose pecu-
liarities would furnish abundant material for a separate volume.
One or two anecdotes concerning them are all for which space
.-•an here be given.

In the Times' office, twelve or thirteen years ago, there was
tin- strongest force of reporters ever gathered together in the
service of any single newspaper in New York. Carey, Under-

" From my knowledge of yon and each of you, so far as you are known to
me, I believe all sincerely loyal and patriotic, and that either of you would
not willingly do anything which would aid the enemy; and yet unwittingly I
have thought that you do so.

" Now, then, I desire* that in any correspondence from this Department
there shall be no prognostications, no assertions that you could give news
if it were not contraband; no predictions that movements are about to be
made that will surprise the enemy or anybody else. Indeed, gentlemen, al-
low me to commend to you, as a rule of action, the advice of Hamlet to his
friend Horatio, when he desired lo keep secret his acts and intentions : —

" ' That you, at such times seeing me, never shall,
With :n in- encumbered thus, or this head shake,
Or by pronouncing of some doubtful phrase,

As, H't-ll, it-ell tre know —

Or, ire c<ml<l ««' if we would; —

Or, // !/••• n*t /•• .<] it-it/; . or, There be an1 if they might:

Or some .-m li ambiguous giving out, its note,

That you know might of me ;

This du you swriir.'

" After any movement ha* been made and completed, then you can give
such account of it, and of the oflirrrs and men eimam -d in it, as your good
judgment and go.i.i taste may dictate; and for that purpose every facility of
public or official documents in my possession will be put at your disposal.

"A word further <>f caution, and I hope I shall not have troubled you in
vain. Descriptions of the movements of oilicers of high rank frequently
give the enemy a clue that some movement is in progress, which a reason-
able amount of sagacity will enable them to discover.

"I have the honor to be, gentlemen, very respectfully, your obedient
servant, "BENJ. F. BUTLKR,

" Major-General Comd'g."
17

258 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

hill, Roberts, Warburton, Welden, CannifF, Leech, Moylan,
Smith, Roberts, Pepper, and half a dozen more, who belonged
to the corps, were all excellent reporters. Roberts, Welden,
and Canniff are dead ; Carey and Warburton are now law-
court reporters in New York, making their stenographic
acquirements profitable ; Smith has returned to England ; the
remainder are scattered. William H. Canniff was so complete
a type of the pushing, energetic reporter, that one anecdote of
his performances may properly be told, as a practical illustra-
tion of the manner in which news is obtained by the force of
brazen impudence.

When the steamer Henry Clay was burned on the Hudson
River, Canniff was sent to gather the particulars of the acci-
dent, and was especially charged to bring a full list of the
names of the killed and wounded. He did so ; but he exulted
over his own skill in this fashion : —

"Do you see that name?" he inquired of the City Editor. -
"Yes." — " Well, that name gave me more trouble than all the
rest. The man was lying on the shore, nearly dead. His
wife was with him, and uninjured. I tried to get the man to
talk, but he couldn't. Then I asked his wife for his name and
address ; and I got them." This proved to be a fact. That
the agonized wife was plunged into the deepest sorrow by the
mortal injury of her husband was no affair to concern the
reporter. He was in quest of news ; and no consideration
found place in his mind, except that of getting the earliest and
the fullest story. This is a hardening process, but a useful
one. It is the way in which early tidings are obtained ; and
the ordinary newspaper reader would have to go behind the
scenes to discover the curious methods of filling the columns
which he reads with intense interest. Many such anecdotes
as the one given might be related.

The class of reporters commonly known as the Jenkinses of
the Press are a distinct collection ; men gifted with vivid im-
aginations and possessed of a fluent style. The Tribune'*
account of the burning of Barnum's Museum, which was copied
into nearly all the papers in the Union, was one of the lu'st
specimens of the peculiar kind of work performed by these

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.

259

men. They have a faculty of spinning endless stories on ex-
ceedingly small foundations of fact; and this tendency was
lately ridiculed in a clever fashion in the columns of the very
journal which gave place to the Barntim. romance. It is
copied below, as a specimen which explains itself : —

"JENKINS RIDES THE WHIRLWIND AND DIRECTS THE STORM.

The news in plain English.
About eleven o'clock on Friday
night a storm of wind and rain set
in.

The newt after the Dummy-and- Dilution
paper had fixed it up.

FLOOD AND TEMPEST.

HOW JUPITEB PLUVIU8 DESCENDED
UPON THE COUNTRY — ROW THE
STORM LASHED THE STRKAMI.VG
PANES — HOW THK HOUSELESS
POOR SHIVERED AND SUF-
FERED.

The wind being south-east, the tide
In the harbor rose about six feet
higher than usual.

The storm which beat down upon
the city on Friday night was one of
the severest tempests of wind and
rain with which New York has been
visited for many years. The first
manifestation made by the rain had a
FEROCITY about it which prognos-
ticated business on the part of Jupiter
Pluvius. AND THE PROGNOS-
TICATION WAS FULFILLED ! !
Shortly after eleven o'clock the
aqueous drops began to come down.
At first they were quite undemon»
strative, but ere many minutes had
elapsed they had SWELLED TIIKM-

ST.I VKS INTO A VOLUME OF WET THAT
DRENCHED THE WHOLE CITY, AXP
MADE MUSIC OUT OF EVERY PANE OF
GLASS THAT ITS LIMPID FIN
COULD REACH.

Eflect of rain on Poverty — Wash-
ing — Swamping — Fear — Flood —
Inundation — «' OCEANIC DEMON,
with no desire in his heart save one
which sought to cause a general
drowning of every human crea-
ture ! ! " [And about one-fourth col-
umn more of the same sort.]

260 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

One or two cellars on West Street Tidal "Waters — Utter Confusion —
were flooded to the depth of four or Philanthropist — Benevolent tears —
five inches. Waters rush down cellar with ter-

rific force. [About half a column.]

Total length of the news, 10 lines.

Total length of the Dummy-and-Dilution story, ... 1 column."

Mr. George William Curtis has recently taken up the fight
against the Jenkins class ; * and his rebuke is worthy of circu-
lation and preservation. He writes : —

" At last we have the Magnum Opus of Mr. Jenkins, and we ought to be con-
tent. The chief domestic event of the month, from the Easy-Chair's point of
view, was the arrival of Father Hyacinthe, whom, in a few airy and prelusive
touches at the head of his wt»rk, Mr. Jenkins calls the ' Preacher Monk,'
' The Great Carmelite Friar.' Mr. Jenkins brings to his task not only his
peculiar and renowned natural gifts, but certain official advantages. For Mr.
Jenkins was the Committee of Reception, and with his customary shrewdness
he resolved to get the start of all other historians by beginning a little before
the beginning. He therefore opened his narration upon shipboard. But at
the very outset a remarkably vicious word for his purpose obtruded itself
into his story, and imperilled the success of his labors. ' The evening.' sa\>
Mr. Herodotus Jenkins, ' was so delicious, the scene around me so calm and
grand, I fell into a reverie which was now and then disturbed by the whis-
tling of the wind through the rigging. I heard a step behind, and, looking
round, saw a low-sized, thick-set man, with a head like an inverted pumpkin,
in dark clothes, approaching the taffrail, with his head buried in his breast,
and a pair of bright, black eyes shining and sparkling like diamonds.'

"It certainly shows great daring and conscious power to introduce your
hero as low-sized and thick-set, with a head like an inverted pumpkin. But
still more striking is Mr. Jenkins's bold confidence in a comma; for if that
little punctuating point had failed to come in at the precise place, we should
have had ' the preacher monk' presented to us as a figure ' with a head like an
inverted pumpkin in dark clothes; ' and nothing but the experienced skill of
a Jenkins could have carried such a description to a grave conclusion. The
low-sized man leans over the "taffrail beside Mr. Jenkins, who, although he
has minutely described the stranger's appearance, now remarks, ' I did not
take any notice of the stranger at first.' But a voice in ' full, melodious
French ' is suddenly heard, whose ' liquidity ' and other vocal virtues now has
the effect upon Mr. Jenkins's mind of the strawberry mark upon the left arm
of a long-lost brother. There is a ' flash of recollection ' by which this
' grand voice ' is seen to have been heard before. The ' inverted pumpkin '
bent toward Mr. Jenkins ' with marked courtesy.' Also, the stranger, with
a ' courteous gesture,' pointed to ' the brilliant sky above us,' and then said to
the excellent Jenkins, ' My son, this night is a beautiful one, and worthy of
the great and eternal attributes of God's majesty.' There could be no longer

* The Easy Chair of Harper's Magazine, December, 1869.

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 261

any doubt even in the severely judicious mind of a Jenkins; and ' This, then,
was Ch.irles Loyson Hyacinthe, the wondrous Carmelite monk preacher.'

'• When Mr. Jenkins heard him preach in the Madeleine in Paris five years
before, he had seen him in 'frock, cowl, and sandalled shoon.' But now he
beheld ' a gentlemanly little person [with an inverted pumpkin head pas-
sim'], in the black clothing of an ordinary American Roman Catholic eccle-
siastic, wearing the most unmistakable French kid boots, and a modern hat of
fashionable construction.' This gentleman immediately proceeded to remark
to Mr. Jenkins that ' The Gothic structure, with its groined roof and fret-
work, its mural tablets and magnificent archways, may be forgotten after the
vision has left them ; but here the span of sky, and the deep, deep ocean
beneath, silently flowing on and ever, like the stream of eternity, can alone
palsy the thoughts of an unbeliever and silence the reckless jests of the
hardened scoffer. My son, think of these things ; look not so lightly upon
Father Ocean; ponder and meditate: for our life is but a journey from Paris
to Brussels ; the terminus is reached ; the passengers deposited at their rest-
ing-place, and then all is darkness and agony and bewilderment for those
who have dreamed on their brief life-journey that the great All-Giver and
Father of Mercies was but an accident of chance, a being to analyze and doubt
of, as Voltaire did to his eternal destruction.' He stopped. ' I looked
around,' remarks Mr. Jenkins, ' and I saw the form of the great preacher
descending the companion-way into the saloon.'

" It is evident that, as hearing the ' liquidity ' of the voice recalled the
Madeleine to Mr. Jenkins, so the spectacle of that gentleman recalled the
church so vividly to the Father that he immediately began to preach. Is this
indeed the kind of familiar evening chat over the taffrail that gentlemen hear
who go down to the sea in ships? Is this a specimen of the colloquy of the
good Carmelite? Or must, we say, in the words of a most worthy gentleman
with a sad impediment in his speech, that ' Mum-Mum-Mum-Macanlay was a
goo-goo-goo-good writer,' but that Macaulay must pale his ineffectual fires
before Herodotus Jenkins?

" An Easy Chair, of course, can only wonder at the historian, even as the
historian wondered at the wondrous monk. His report belongs to the more
t'.-rvid parts of the literature of travel; and it is certainly very much more
entertaining than many of the most popular novels of the moment. Its title
should apparently be The Man Who 1'n aches. And if, as the reader peruses
the report, he must needs fancy the modest clergyman, who is the hero,
shrinking and wine-ing from such a glowing portraiture, yet he must remem-
ber that, as a Carmelite, he is devoted to self-renunciation and sacrifice.
We have had a moonlight glimpse of the hero leaning over the taffrail and
preaching a sh..r- -M-rnion. Let ns observe him as Mr. Jenkins describes him
In a moment of silence : 'The figure of the Father was often notieeable on
deck, studying his breviary between meals, and promenading on the smooth,
polished, wooden surface. Father Hyacinthe had some qualms of sea-sirk-
ne»s, but he managed to overcome them after the first two days of the pas-
sage out from Brest.'

"Mr. Jenkins had plainly resolved that this history should be, as we have
called it, his great work, — even surpassing his account of Mrs. Flunnny's
recherche croquet matinee, or Mrs. Dummy's last select and aristocratic

262 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

dansante. Evidently he took prodigious pains that his hero should be pre-
sented to the American world in a manner that should leave nothing to be
said, and very little to be surmised. 'At the dining-table,' — continues this
most veracious and charming of chroniclers, — ' at the diniug-table the
great preacher ate sparingly of the plainest dishes, and seemed quite fond
of celery and pickled onions ; underdone roast beef and boiled mutton he
also seemed to relish, and the dessert of raisins and other fruits was rel-
ished by him. He drank sherry in small quantities, and occasionally a glass
of Medoc table-claret. A light breakfast of white hot French rolls and a cup
of coffee served for his breakfast, and his lunch was nothing but a little soup
and boiled potato.' Could an enlightened curiosity demand more? Alas!
yes ; for there are spots upon the sun. He relishes underdone beef and
pickled onions. But does he take mustard with the former, and does he
wipe his mouth with a napkin after the latter? Alas! Alps on Alps arise!
If a napkin, does he handle it with both hands, and draw it from side to side
of his mouth, as is the custom of his country, or does he mop the lips
merely? And if he mops merely, does he use both hands, or one only? And
if one, which one? And if the right one, does his little finger stick out
ornamentally, or does it assist in grasping the linen? And is it real linen?
Or cotton and linen mixed ? And how often are the napkins changed ? And
are they carefully washed? And who does the washing? And how much is
she paid a dozen ? And is she married ? And how many children has she ?
And are they going to take in washing too? Herodotus Jenkins, like
Macaulay, is a goo-goo-good writer,' but there are some things that even he
has omitted.

" By an easy and natural transition the historian passes from pickled
onions to the occasion of the Father's departure from his convent, and
quotes the Letter of one of his warm personal friends. ' I give it just as I
saw it in manuscript,' characteristically says the author. By and by the
voyage is ended, and the hubbub of arrival follows, and then the hero of the
magnum opus ' came on the dock, unobtrusively dressed in a plain black suit,
with a broad felt hat.' He is described as passing rapidly to a carriage, and
the scene then shifts to the hotel at which he is to lodge. The hall of the
Fifth Avenue Hotel at four o'clock in the afternoon is graphically portrayed.
' The grand hall on the first floor is but thinly populated, and presents a
scene far less inspiriting than that which strikes the eye after the shades of
night have come down, and the lamps of Madison Square shed their genial
light across Broadway.' Suddenly, at this hour, 'the gentlemanly clerks
behind the hotel-desk' are taken by surprise. A carriage rumbles. It stops.
What ot It? It often happens. Tis at the side door. What then? What
then, unconscious gentlemanly clerks ? Why, in that carriage there is a seat,
and upon that seat there is a man with French kid boots and an inverted
pumpkin head, in dark clothes ; and that man upon that seat is the wondrous
Carmelite monk preacher. Hist ! he comes. ' Although considerably fatigued
by the voyage, the Rev. Father stepped up to the desk, and with a hand that
did not tremble in the least enrolled on the register the name Fr. Hyacinthe.
As soon as he had done this little piece of chirography, a number of gentle-
men,' etc. But the enrolling and chirographical Father escaped the civilities
of ' a number of gentlemen,' and was ' conducted upstairs to the apartments

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS. 263

that he will occupy during his sojourn in this city.' Other people may write
their names and go to their rooms, but not those whom Mr. Jenkins attends.
Mere mortals also upon the pages of other historians may wash their hands
and laces. But the heroes of Jenkins are guilty of nothing monosyllabic.
' Father Hyacinthe, like all good Christians, had no sooner entered the room
than he paid his respects to the apparatus that is devoted to ablutionary
purposes. He turned on the Croton, and was in the middle of a thorough
wash when an invitation was received for him to come dowu to dinner.'
Whether the annalist observed these historical events from under the bed or
through the keyhole he does not record ; and, by a singular lapse of the sense
of the fitness and symmetry of things, he does not even relate, O Muse ! the
wiping of the hands and face, nor stay to tell the number of the towels, nor
whether they were fringed, or bordered in colors; nor their probable cost;
nor whether a liberal discount was allowed for their being taken by the
quantity ; nor, indeed, any of those details which an intelligent reader intent
upon the great religious protest of the Carmelite Father has a moral right to
know. But before we lose sight of the hero, we hear, as it were, a reflected
strain of the orator. 'The distinguished guest, although suffering from
fatigue, praised the dinner very highly, and with that peculiar eloquence
which is decidedly his own (and which I, Herodotus Jenkins, so well remem-
ber in the Madeleine Church in Paris), bestowed many compliments on the
style of ctti.iiiip, which it was his pleasure to experience so soon after lauding
on the shores of the ' land of the free and the home of the brave.'

'• What Dr. Johnson would have thought of Boswell's story of him we
shall never know ; but the good Father Hyacinthe was said, and doubtless
with truth, to have been aghast when he saw his portrait by Jenkins. It
may be supposed to have suggested to him that for a conspicuous man the
United States are a whispering gallery walled with mirrors. Every motion
is multiplied infinitely, and every word echoes and re-echoes without end.
Mr. Jenkins, indeed, has, as he will doubtless be glad to hear, ' a great mis-
sion to perform,' not unlike that of the skull of the old feasts. ' Remember
your mortality,' is said to the revellers. ' Mind your eye, and your tongue,
and your pen,' says Herodotus Jenkins to every distinguished visitor and
lion. If Father Ilyacintho makes any serious blunder while he remains la
this country, it will certainly not be the fault of the historian. If he does
not wei-h every word and guard every look, it will not be because he does
not know that he is minutely studied through a thousand lorgnettes. Mean-
while1, a> Mr. Jenkins is of a genial and humane temper, whose purpose is to
please his fellow-treat urcs, he, ought to be satisfied with the reilection that
while Thur\ dides, and Sallust, and Gibbon, and Grote, and Maraulay. and
Motley may be n id through without a single smile, it is impossible to read;
Ilerodotn> Jenkins without peals of laughter at every line, 'Small service is
true service while it lasts.' Grimuldi, also, was a benefactor," .

PRECISION IN JOURNALISM. \

ONE curiosity of Journalism should perhaps find place here:.
It illustrates the other extreme, — the extreme which not only

264

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

prohibits the employment of the Jenkins reporter, but estab-
lishes the law that no phrase remotely savoring of slang shall
ever appear in a newspaper article.

In the office of the New York Evening Post there is an
"Index Expurgatorius," to which every assistant editor and
reporter engaged in the service of that paper is bound to pay
respect. It contains a catalogue of words that are never to be
used ; and among the number are several phrases which came
up in the late War, and were generally adopted by the news-
papers. The whole list reads as follows, the head-lines being
the work of wags in the office : —

INDEX EXPUKGATORIUS.

THE DISUSED WORDS OF THK ENGLISH TONGUE.

" No more of that, Hal, an' thou lovest me."

" Friend after friend departs ; —
Who hath not lost a friend ? "

" Though lost to sight, to memory dear."

[The words in the subjoined list are ignominiously expelled from good society."]

1. Aspirant.

17. "Hon."

2. Authoress.

18. Inaugurated,

3. " Being " done, built, etc.

(for " begun.")

4. Bogus.

19. Initiated,

5. Bajjginjj,

(for" begun.")

~~»~OO O 7

(for " capturing.")

20. In our midst.

6. Balance,

21. Ignore.

(for " remainder.")

22. Jeopardize.

7. Collided.

23. Juvenile,

8. Commenced,

(for " boy.")

(for " begun.")

24. Jubilant,

9. Couple,

(for "rejoicing.")

(for " two.")

25. Lady,

10. Debut.

(for " wife.")

11. Donate and Donation.

26. Lengthy.

12. Employee.

27. Loafer.

13. "Esq."

28. Loan, or loaned,

14. Endorse,

(for "lend "or "lent.")

(for " approve.")

29. Located.

15. Gents,

30. Measurably,

(for " gentlemen.")

(for " in a measure.")

16. Humbug.

31. Ovation.

ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.

265

32. Obituary,

(for " death.")
83. Parties,

(for " persons.")
:$4. Posted,

(for " informed.")
I'oetess.

36. Portion,

(for " part.")

37. Predicate.

38. Progressing.

39. Pants,

(for " pantaloons.")

40. Quite,

(prefixed to " good," " large," etc.)

41. Realized,

(for " obtained.")

42. Reliable,

(for " trustworthy.")

43. Repudiate,

(for " reject," or " disown.")

44. Retire,

(for " withdraw.")

45. R61e,

(for " part.")

46. Rowdies.

47. Roughs.

48. Secesh.

49. States,

(for " saya.")
60. Taboo.
51. Transpire,

(for " occur.")

62. To progress.

63. Tapis.
54. Talented.

56. The deceased.

66. Vicinity,

(for " neighborhood."]

67. Wall Street slang generally : —

(" bulls, bears, long, short, flat,
corner, tight," etc.)

266 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

CHAPTER XXIV.

A DIGEESSION CONCERNING NEWSPAPER BORES.

HOW EDITORS AKE BORED THE DIFFERENT CLASSES OF BORES THE POETS,

AND WHAT MR. BRYANT SAID OF THEM POLITICAL, INQUISITIVE, AND CLER-
ICAL BORES THE " STRONG-MINDED " WOMEN THE PERSONS AFFLICTED

BY BORES.

THE Bores require a classification more in detail than could
have been properly given in the preceding chapter of " Anec-
dotes and Incidents."

There is no living newspaper man who has not been com-
pelled to endure the inflictions of a bore. The variety is
large, but the courage and vitality of the race are visible
throughout. Byron was not wrong when he wrote : —

" Society is now one polished horde,
Formed of two mighty tribes, the bores and bored."

Poetical bores are male and female, and it is difficult to decide
which sex is the more persistent, or the greater nuisance. It is
true that the snubbing of a man by a man is comparatively an
easy task ; but what man can snub a woman and retain his
self-respect? The manner of approach by the woman-poet is
singularly embarrassing to any one but a brute. She floats in
gracefully and gently. Editor rises to offer her a chair ; his
heart like lead, but his face a sunbeam. Poetess begins the
conversation : —

"You are the editor of the Daily Thunderer1} "

M I am, madam."

" I have long read your paper, sir, with the greatest pleasure
and instruction. Our family have taken it for many years,
and we should feel quite lost without it. We always find

A DIGRESSION CONCKi:MN<i M.WSPAPER BORES. 267

something interesting in it, and tho literary selections are
admirable ! I see that you often publish poetry — my friends
have paid me the compliment of saying that some of my poet-
ical efforts are worthy of being printed — I have — I — have

— written soinethinir here which I wish to submit to you for
your decision — I should be very glad if you would accept it

— my friends would lie gratified to see it published — we have
often read your paper with interest — my father, who adver-
tises with you, likes the Thunderer very much — and — and
will you be so good, sir, as to look over this — and 1 shall
look for it to-morrow, *' — and then a sweet smile, and a Hash
from a pair of pretty eyes, and, with an engaging air, Aramin-
tha makes a sweeping salutation and departs.

The editor draws a long breath, and prints the poem, which
is likely to be of the pattern of Mrs. Leo Hunter's effusion : —

" Can I view thee, panting, lying
On thy stomach, without sighing?
Can I, unmoved, see thee dying
On a log,
Expiring frog?

" Say, have friends, in shape of boys,
With wild halloo, and brutal noise,
Hunted thee from marshy joys,
With a dog,
Expiring frog?"

That is one type. Here is another : —

Knler a wan man, eyes deeply sunken, hair thrown behind

the ears iii wild confusion, collar crumpled, coat seedy, and hat
awry, lie produces, defiantly, an epic; hands it, perempto-
rily, to the occupant of the tripod; insists that it shall be read
then and there. lie is blandly informed that '' it mu>t await
its turn." He irlares savagely for a moment, lingers, turns
upon his heel, and finally goes. The " poem " is ca.-t into the
\va.-te-hasket, and the next day is sold to a dealer at the rate
of five cents a pound. The third day the author returns.
IVini: informed that his manuscript i> rejected, he demands its
return. "Impossible, sir!" is the reply; "we never return

2G8 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK TRESS.

manuscripts ; you should keep a copy if you wish to preserve
what you write." Poet flames out at this, calls the editor hard
names, — such as " 110 gentleman " and " blackguard," — and
the upshot is that the disconsolate bard finds himself suddenly
excluded from the editorial sanctum.

These are extreme types — strong contrasts. Not all the
men are brutal ; on the contrary, very many are gentle, lova-
ble, and brilliant, and their contributions are gratefully ac-
cepted and often paid for. Nor, on the other hand, are all
the poetesses angelic.

Besides these specimens might be mentioned the drunken
poet, who borrows "five dollars on account;" the mad poet,
who has the lunacies of poor McDonald Clarke, without
Clarke's genius ; the tj-pographical poet, who continually pes-
ters editors to print his apostrophes to the printing-press,
Franklin, and the steam-engine. All these are pure nuis-
ances,— usually unmitigated humbugs; but are likely to be
personally good-natured fellows, and so comparatively en-
durable. Nevertheless, they are bores, professionally speak-
ing.

The Nestor of American poets, afflicted beyond endurance
by the swarm of rhymesters, who, as he expressed it, "flung
themselves in a body " upon his journal, once gave significant
expression to his judgment of this class of bores. Of all the
editors of New York, William Cullen Bryant is the finest
scholar, the best poet, the man most tender of the feelings of
the poetaster. But even his patience finally snapped off short,
under the peculiarly aggravating circumstances of an avalanche
of rhymes which had no reason, and epics without heroes ; and
some years ago the following address appeared in the columns
of the Evening Post : —

" TO POETS AND POETESSES.

" We desire it to be understood by those who amuse themselves with writ-
Ing verses, and who take, as one of them confesses to us, ' a real pleasure at
seeing their words in print, 'that there is very little we can do to accommodate
them. Probably no one among them all has any idea of the number of his
competitors for that fame, such as it is, which is acquired through the news-
papers. There is nothing more common in our country than a certain facility

A DIGRESSION CONCERNING NEWSPAPER BORES. 269

In rhyming. Almost everybody can make verses who can count. A few ex-
amples of general notoriety acquired by poets who have produced what the
most of readers admire, we fear does the mischief. Their example seduces
thousands of men and women, mostly young persons, some of mature age,
whose case may therefore be considered as hopeless, and even a few aged
people, who, having commenced poets after they have retired from other oc.
cupations, go rhyming down the hill of life.

" But we do not exactly see why this tuneful tribe should fling themselves
in a body upon the Evening Post. The plain truth Is that we receive more
poetry, offered for publication in these columns, than we are able to read, and
are obliged In such cases to content ourselves with the introductory stanza.
Some of them, if a little long, we consider ourselves as under no necessity
of reading a word of, since they cannot be admitted. We plead guilty, how-
ever, to the charge of having sometimes, either through a careless reading of
the manuscript, or a mistaken good nature, allowed to appear in our columns
- which should have been thrown into the flre, and it is fortunate for us
that a daily newspaper is not held by its readers to so strict an accountability
in this respect as a literary weekly or a magazine. We hope our readers will
bear with us, should we happen sometimes to fall Into the same error here-
after. But while we ask this indulgence from them, we must desire that nu-
merous class who favor us with their contributions in verse, not to be disap-
pointed if they never liear of them again. Life is too short to pass much of
It in looking over manuscript poetry, with the chance of only finding it indif-
fVi-.-iit in nine cases out of ten, and we have other uses for our columns than
publishing it."

The "tuneful tribe" took the hint, and for a considerable
time there was a perceptible falling-off in the number of poet-
ical contributions received at the office of the Evening Post.
lint it was only a lull in the tempest. The rhymesters, recov-
ering their wind, again dimbed Parnassus, and from aerial
heights launched fresh missives upon the head of the venerated
poet. He bowed gracefully to the storm.

The Political Bore is the exact opposite of the Poetical. The
politician believes, or professes to believe, that all men have
their price; that voters, ollice-holders, judges, jurors, can all
be bought : thai men in place are like sheep in the shamble.-, to
be weighed, and measured, and felt of. In the growing corrup-
tion of our American political system, which gives opportunity
for mean mm to rule, tor scheming villains to buy, for .•sancti-
monious hypocrites to cajole, the professional politician of our
cities and large towns is not wrong in his general estimate. He
takes the world as he finds it, and gets his profit from it. But

270 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK TRESS.

all this only makes the Political Bore more a bore to right
thinking men.

The Inquisitive Bore wears spectacles, is middle-aged, and
usually has too little time left after peering into others' business
to attend to his own and make a living at it. Insinuating in
manner, but fell in purpose, this species approaches the news-
paper editor with an air of unconcern, passes a comment upon
the topic of the hour, or that unfailing subject, the weather,
seizes his victim by the button if he shows a disposition to
escape, and holds on.

The Clerical Bore walks gravely into the editorial sanctum,
and tells the editor, in round, full tones, "How much pleased
I was with your admirable article of yesterday ; " and then
solemnly sinks into the softest seat to talk. Comparatively
few of the clerg}^ do this ; and those who do are generally from
New England. Their solemnity is laughable in the eyes of the
irreverent newspaper man, who learns to detect Chadband and
Pecksniff at a glance. But there is one type of the bore-cleri-
cal who is so good and so vain that the afflicted editor has
patience with his foibles, for the sake of his undeniable virtues.
This is the middle-aged clergyman of the city parish, who is
remarkable in the pulpit for emphasizing all the conjunctions
and prepositions, and in the editorial room for writing puffs for
himself, over which he laughs good-naturedly as he hands them
to the editor to be printed, saying : " This sort of thing, you
know, pleases the members of my congregation, and they don't
know where it comes from ! "

The " Strong-minded " Woman is the worst of all the modern
bores, — worse than the poets of her own sex, and unsurpassed
even by the ward politician. Charles Dickens somewhere draws
a portrait of an ancient maiden whose disposition was neither
sweet nor sour, but of whom it was said that, like the huckster-
woman's apples, she was " a pleasant tart." A " strong-
minded " woman, the defender of the doctrine of ''woman's
rights," is not often absolutely acid, nor is she ever completely
sweet; but, under the most favorable circumstances, she is a
bore. Some members of this class are tall and angular,—

A DICI:I>-IOV OONOEBK1 -r.U'ER BORES. 271

determined Pipchins. in steel spectacles :m<r black bomba-
zine: others :ire fat, good-natured, and generally well
dressed ; others airain are young and pretty, and so make
havoc, Hut they are all bores together. Worst of all. tlry
believe in the power of the Press, haunt newspaper othV. •-.
and pester newspaper men. Nor are they content with this;
tor they iret weak moneyed men to start newspapers for them ;
and they irH themselves organized into clubs, and get their
speeches reported in the newspapers, and make themselves
notorious — while their houses run to decay, their children
go unkempt, and the wretched male sex, in the places called
homes, get the treatment of dogs in a kennel. Of such, the
p«.-t says: —

" Round hrr strew'd room a frippery chaos lies,
A chcfim-n-il wreck of notable and wise;
Hills, books, caps, couplets, combs, a varied mass,
Oppivss the toilet and obscure the glass;
I'nlini.slird la-re an epiirram is laid,
And there a mantua-maker's bill unpaid."

The Philanthropic Bore is known to every editor. Some-
times he espouses the cause of the Indian; sometimes that of
the street -lioy : Midnight Missions are established by him. and
;ids llannel jackets to little West Indian negroes; or he
cares I'm- orphan children at the rate of ten thousand dol-
a year for each poor little ragged vagabond — and so
the professional philanthropist makes a good living for him-
self by working upon the sympathies or appealing to the
Christian feelings of persons who are easily moved by tales
of woe.

Tin- per-on- afllicted by these classes of bores are not exclu-
sively newsp-p. r men. Other literary characters have their
own share of >nllerin<r, and the victims might be ranked in their
propel- order thus : —

1 . Kditors of newspapers.

2. Conductors of maga/ines.

272 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

3. Readers for publishing houses.

4. People who know editors, magazine conductors or pub-
lishers' readers.

5. People who know people who know all the foregoing.

A HISTORY OF NKWsr.M'KIl HOAXES. 273

CHAPTER XXV.

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES.

FAMOUS DECEPTIONS — THE " MOON HOAX " OF 1835 — THE POLK CAMPAIGN
AND THE "ROORBACK" — THE LINCOLN PROCLAMATION HOAX.

N<> aceount of the history of Journalism in Now York would
be complete without a record of the famous hoaxes which have
appeared in the public prints. Foremost among1 tlie.se is the
" Moon Hoax," which was first published in. Beach's Sun in
Augu.-t and September, 1835.

Tin- author of the " Moon Hoax " was Richard Adams Lo
then a resident of the city of Brooklyn. In a moment of riot-
.'mey, he conceived the idea of preparing a grand decep-
tion; and he did it very effectually. In August, 1835, then'
appeared in the columns of the New York Xmi a pretended ex-
tract from the pages of a " Supplement to the Fdinbnrgh J»nr-

• ." under the title of "(ireat Astronomical Di-
iv made by Sir John Ilersehel, LL.D., F.R.S.,
at ihe Capr of (iood Hope," — in all of which there was not
one word of truth : but the air of perfect honesty and of pro-
found scientific research with which the deception was put
forward served to p;i/.:'.l rs who were not sufficiently

learned to dried the impeoiure. Aa a piece of literary work,
it was admirable. Several numbers of the »S'»// were occupied
with the sue, rlionsof the hoax, and the copies were all

eagerly bought up.

A generation has >iuee passed away, and to the younger
of readers the >tory of the "Moon Hoax" is fresh. For
many years, i\ has been out of print, and stray

copies of the :itaining it command high prices at the

rare intervals when they appear upon the market. The whole.
•y is therefore reproduced in the following pa-^es : —
18

274 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

"GREAT ASTRONOMICAL DISCOVERIES LATELY MADE BY SIR
JOHN HERSCHEL, LL.D., F.R.S., ETC., AT THE CAPE OF GOOD
HOPE.

" From the Supplement to the Edinburgh Journal of Science.

"In this unusual addition to our Journal, we have the hnp-
piness of making known to the British public, and thence to
the whole civilized world, recent discoveries in Astronomy
which will build an imperishable monument to the age in which
we live, and confer upon the present generation of the human
race a proud distinction through all future time. It has been
poetically said, that the stars of heaven are the hereditary re-
galia of man, as the intellectual sovereign of the animal crea-
tion. He may now fold the Zodiac around him with a loftier
consciousness of his mental supremacy.

" It is impossible to contemplate any great Astronomical dis-
covery, without feelings closely allied to a sensation of awe,
and nearly akin to those with which a departed spirit may be
supposed to discover the realities of a future state. Bound by
the irrevocable laws of nature to the globe on which we live,
creatures * close shut up in infinite expanse,' it seems like a< -
quiring a fearful supernatural power when any remote myste-
rious works of the Creator yield tribute to our curiosity. It
seems almost a presumptuous usurpation of powers denied us
by the divine will, when man, in the pride and confidence of
his skill, steps forth, far beyond the apparently natural boun-
dary of his privileges, and demands the secrets and familiar
fellowship of other worlds. We are assured that when the
immortal philosopher to whom mankind is indebted for the
thrilling wonders now first made known, had at length adj1
his new and stupendous apparatus with a certainty of sue-
he solemnly paused several hours before he commenced his ob-
servations, that he might prepare his own mind for discoveries
which he knew would fill the minds of myriads of his fellow-
men with astonishment, and secure his name a bright, if not
transcendent, conjunction with that of his venerable father, to
all posterity. And well might he pause ! From the hour the <
first human pair opened their eyes to the glories of the blue]
firmament aboye them, ther% has been no :>r;vssion to human j

A HI-TORY OF NKWSI'APKU HOAXES. 275

knowledge ;it all comparable in sublime interest to that which
he has been the honor; '1 agvnt in supplying; and we are taught
to h'.-lieve that, when a work, already piv] taring lor the ]
in which his discoveries are embodied hi detail, shall he- laid
he fore the public, they will be found of incomparable impor-
tance to some of the grandest operations of civilized life.
Well might he pause ! He was about to become the sole de-
pository of wondrous secrets which had been hid from the eyes
of all men that had lived since the birth of time. He was
about to crown himself with a diadem of knowledge which
would give him a conscious pre-eminence above every indi-
vidual of his species who then lived, or who had lived in the
generations that are passed away. He paused ere he broke
the seal of the casket which contained it.

"To render our enthusiasm intelligible, we will state at once
that by means of a telescope of vast dimensions and an en-
tirely new principle, the younger Herschel. at his observatory
in the Southern Hemisphere, has already made the most ex-
traordinary discoveries in every planet of our solar system; has
discovered planets in other solar systems; has obtained a dis-
tinct view of objects in the moon, fully equal to that which the
unaided eye commands of terrestrial objects at the distance of
a hundred yards ; has affirmatively settled the question whether
this satellite be inhabited, and by what order of being.-: has
firmly established a new theory of comet ary phenomena : and
Ived or corrected nearly every leading problem of math-
ematical astronomy.

" For our early and almost exclusive information concerning
facts, we an- indebted to the devoted friendship of Dr.
Andrew (Jrant. the pupil of the elder, and for several years
past the inseparable coadjutor of the younger Ilersehel. The
amanuensis of the latter at the Cape of Good Hope, and the-
indefatigable superintendent of his telescope during the whole
period of its construction and operation, Dr. Grant has been
enabled to supply us with intelligence equal, in general in!
at least, to that which Dr. Ilersehel himself has transmit;
the Royal Society. Indeed, our correspondent a<-nrcs us that
the voluminous documents now before a committee of that in-

276 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YOEK PRESS.

stitution contain little more than details and mathematical
illustrations of the facts communicated to us in his own ample
correspondence. For permission to indulge his friendship in
communicating this invaluable information to us, Dr. Grant
and ourselves are indebted to the magnanimity of Dr. Herschel,
who, far above all mercenary considerations, has thus signally
honored and rewarded his fellow-laborer in the field of science.
The engravings of lunar animals and other objects, and of the
phases of the several planets, are accurate copies of drawings
taken in the observatory by Herbert Home, Esq., who accom-
panied the last powerful series of reflectors from London to the
Cape, and superintended their erection ; and he has thus re-
corded the proofs of their triumphant success. The engraving
of the belts of Jupiter is a reduced copy of an imperial folio
drawing by Dr. Herschel himself, and contains the results of
his latest observation of that planet. The segment of the inner
ring of Saturn is from a large drawing by Dr. Grant.

" We first avail ourselves of the documents which contain a
description and history of the instrument by which these stu-
pendous discoveries have been' made. A knowledge of the
one is essential to the credibility of the other.

"THE YOUNGER HERSCHEL'S TELESCOPE.

" It is well known that the great reflecting telescope of the
late elder Herschel, with an object-glass four feet in diameter,
and a tube forty feet in length, possesses a magnifying power
of more than six thousand times. But a small portion of this
power was ever advantageously applied to the nearer astronom-
ical objects ; for the deficiency of light from objects so highly
magnified, rendered them less distinct than when viewed with a
power of a third or fourth of this extent. Accordingly the
powers which he generally applied when observing the moon or
planets, and with which he made his most interesting discover-
ies, ranged from two hundred and twenty, four hundred and
sixty, seven hundred and fifty, and nine hundred times : al-
though, when inspecting the double and treble fixed stars, and
the more distant nebula1, he frequently applied the full capac-
ity of his instrument. The law of optics, that an object be-

A IIISTOKV 277

dim in proportion us i( is magnified, seemed, iV":

exemplification in this powerful telescope, to f..rin an in-
able boundary to further discoveries in our soi
eral years, however, prior to the death of this venerable astron-
omer, he conceived it practicable to construct an impr
series of parabolic and spherhal reflectors, which, by unitir.g
all the meritorious points in the Gregorian and Newtonian in-
struments, with the highly interesting achromatic discovery of
Dolland, would, to a great degree, remove the forniidab!
st met ion. His plan evinced the most profound research in
optical science, and the most dexterous ingenuity in mechanical
contrivance ; but accumulating infirmities, and eventually death,
prevented its experimental application. Jlis son, the pr.
Sir John Ilerschel, who had been nursed and cradled in the
observatory, and a practical astronomer from his boyhood, was
so fully convinced of the value of the theory, that he determined
upon testing it, at whatever cost. Within two years of his
father's death he completed his new apparatus, and adap!
to the old telescope with nearly perfect success. He found that
the magnifying power of six thousand times, when applied to
the moon, which was the severest criterion that could b
lected, produced, under these new reilectors. a focal object of
exquisite distinctness, free from every achromatic obscurity,
and containing the highest degree of light which the great
ulnin could collect from that luminary.

"The enlargement of the angle of vision, which was thus
acquired, is ascertained by dividing the moon's distance from
the observatory by the magnifying power of the instrument;
and the former being two hundred and forty thousand miles,
and the latter six thousand times, leaves a quotient of forty
miles as the apparent distance of that planet from the e.
the observer. \ow. it is well known that no terrestrial objects
can be seen at a greater distance than this, with the naked eye,
even from the most favorable elevations. The rotundit
the earth prevents a more distant view than this with the most
acute natural vision, and from the highest eminences: and,
generally, objects seen at this distance are themselves elevated
on mountainous ridges. It is not pretended, moreover, that

278 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

this forty miles telescopic view of the moon presented its
objects with equal distinctness, though it did in equal size to
those of this earth, so remotely stationed.

"The elder Herschel had nevertheless demonstrated, that,
with a power of one thousand times, he could discern objects
in this satellite of not more than one hundred and twenty-two
yards in diameter. If, therefore, the full capability of the in-
strument had been, elicited by the new apparatus of reflectors
constructed by his sou, it would follow, in mathematical ratio,
that objects could be discerned of not more than twenty-two
yards in diameter. Yet in either case they would be seen as
mere feeble, shapeless points, with no greater couspicuity than
they would exhibit upon earth to the unaided eye at the dis-
tance of forty miles. But although the rotundity of the earth
presented no obstruction to a view of these astronomical ob-
jects, we believe Sir John Herschel never insisted that he had
carried out these extreme powers of the telescope in so full a
ratio. The deficiency of light, though greatly economized and
concentrated, still maintained some inverse proportion to the
magnitude of the focal image. The advance he had made in
the knowledge of this planet, though magnificent and sublime,
was thus but partial and unsatisfactory. He was, it is true,
enabled to confirm some discoveries of former observers, and
to confute those of others. The existence of volcanoes dis-
covered by his father and by Schroeter of Berlin, and the
changes observed by the latter in the volcano in the J/are
Orisium, or Lucid Lake, were corroborated and illustrated, as
w;is also the prevalence of far more extensive volcanic phe-
nomena. The disproportionate height attributed to the lunar
mountains was corrected from careful admeasurement ; whilst
the celebrated conical hills, encircling valleys of vast diameter,
and surrounding the lofty central hills, were distinctly per-
ceived. The formation which Professor Frauenhofer unchari-
tably conjectured to be a lunar fortification, he ascertained to
be a tabular buttress of a remarkably pyramidical mountain ;
lines which had been whimsically pronounced roads and canals,
he found to be keen ridges of singularly regular I-OAVS of hills ;
and that which Schroeter imagined to be a great city in the

A HISTORY OF Ni:\\>I'Al'EU HOAXES. 279

neighborhood of Marim, he determined to be ;i valley of di>-
jointcd rofks scattered in fragments, which averaged at h
thou.-and yards in diameter. Thus the general geography of
the planet, in its grand outlines of cape, continent, mountain,
ocean, and island, was surveyed with greater particularity and
accuracy than by any previous observer; and the striking dis-
similarity of many of its local features to any existing on our
own globe was clearly demonstrated. The best enlarged maps
of thai luminary which have been published were constructed
from this survey; and neither the astronomer nor the public
ventured to hope for any great accession to their developments.
The utmost power of the largest telescope in the, world had
exerted in a new and felicitous manner to obtain them,
and there was no reasonable expectation that a larger one
would ever be constructed, or that it could be advantageously
u>cd if it were. A law of nature, and the fiuitude of human
skill, seemed united in inflexible opposition to any further im-
provement in telescopic science, as applicable to the known
planets and satellites of the solar system. For unless the sun
could be prevailed upon to extend a more liberal allowance of
light to these bodies, and they be induced to transfer it, for the
generous gratification of our curiosity, what adequate sub>ti-
tute could lie obtained? Tele.-copes do not -create light; they
cannot even tran-mit unimpaired that which they receive.
That anything further could be derived from human skill in the
construction of instruments, the labors of his illustrious pivde-
irs, and his own, left the son of Ilerschel no reason to
hope. Iluygen-, Fontana, (iregory, Newton, Hadley, liird,
Short, Holland, Ilerschel. and many others, all practical opti-
cians, had resorted to every material in any wise adapted to
the composition either of lenses or reflectors, and had
hausted <• -. of vision which study had developed

demonstrated. In the construction of his last ama/.ing >pecula.
Sir John llersdiel hud Delected the mo>t approved amalgams
that the advanced >tage of metallic chemistry had combined ;
and had watched their growing brightness under the hand- of
the arliticer \\iiii more anxious hope than ever lover matched
the eye of hi »\ and he had nothing further to expect

280 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

than they had accomplished. He had the satisfaction to know
that if he could leap astride a cannon-ball, and travoi upon its
wings of fury for the- respectable period of several millions of
years, he would not obtain a more enlarged view of the dis-
tant stars than he could now possess in a lew minutes of time*;
and that it "would require an ultra-railroad speed of fifty miles
an hour, for nearly the livelong year, to secure him a more
favorable inspection of the gentle luminary of night. The
interesting question, however, "whether this light of the solemn
forest, of the treeless desert, and of the deep blue ocean as it
rolls ; whether this object of the lonely turret, of the uplifted
eye on the deserted battle-field, and of all the pilgrims of love
and hope, of misery and despair, that have journeyed over the
hills and valleys of this earth, through all the eras of its un-
written history to those of its present voluminous record : thi?
exciting question, whether this ' observed ' of all the sons of
men, from the days of Eden to those of Edinburgh, be inhab-
ited by beings like ourselves, of consciousness and curiosity,
was left for solution to the benevolent index of natural analogy,
or to the severe tradition that it is tenanted only by the hoary
solitaire whom the criminal code of the nursery had banished
thither for collecting fuel on the Sabbath day.

"The limits of discovery in the planetary bodies, and in this
one especially, thus seemed to be immutably fixed ; and no
expectation was elevated for a period of several years. But,
about three years ago, in the course of a conversational discus-
sion with Sir David Brewster upon the merits of some ingen-
ious suggestions by the latter, in his article on optics in the
'Edinburgh Encyclopedia ' (p. 044), for improvements in the
Newtonian lleflectors, Sir John Ilerschel adverted to the con-
venient simplicity of the old astronomical telescopes that were
without tubes, and the object-glass of which, placed upon a
high pole, threw its focal image to a distance of one hundred
and fifty, and even two hundred feet. Dr. Brewster readily
admitted that a tube was not necessary, provided the focal
image were conveyed into a dark apartment, and there properly
received by reflectors. Sir John then said that, if his fa-
ther's great telescope, the tube alone of which, though formed

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 231

of the lightest suitable materials, weighed three thousand
pound.-, possessed an easy and steady mobility with its heavy

: vatury attached, an observatory movable without the in-
eiiinbrance of such a tube was obviously practical. Thi-

Admitted, and the conversation became directed to that all-
invincible enemy, — the paucity of light in powerful magnifiers.
After a few moments' silent thought, Sir Johii diffidently in-
quired whether it would not be possible to effect a transfusion
»J <irtijic'ml //y/// tlii-<nt<jh the focal object of vision! Sir David,
somewhat startled at the originality of the idea, paused awhile,
and then hesitatingly referred to the rcrrangibility of rays, and
the angle of incidence. Sir John, grown more confident, ad-
duced the example of the Newtonian IMlector, in which the

ngibility was corrected by the second speculum, and the
angle of ineidei:- -red by the third. 'And,' continued

why cannot t'ie illuminated microscope, say the hydro-
oxygen, be applied to render distinct, and, if necessary, <. ven to
magnify, the focal object ?' Sir David sprung from his chair in
an ecstasy of conviction, and, leaping half way to the ceiling,
exclaimed, ' Thou art the man ! ' Each philosopher anticipated
the other in presenting the prompt illustration that if the rays
of the hydro-oxygen microscope, passed through a drop of
water containing the larviu of a gnat, and other objects invisible
to the naked eye, rendered them not only keenly but firmly
magnified to dimensions of many feet ; so could the same arti-
ficial light, passed through the faint e.-t focal object of a tele-
scope, both distinctify (to coin a new word for an extraordinary
occasion) and magnify its feeblest component members. The
only apparent de.-ideratum \\as a recipient for the focal image
which should transfer if, without refranging it . to the surface on
which it was to he viewed under the revivifying light of the
microscropic rs. In the various experiments made

during the few following weeks, the eo-oper.it ive philosophers
decided that a medium of tin- purest plate glass (which it i-
said they obtained, by consent, he it observed, from the shop
window of Mons. iVsanges, the jeweller to his ex-majesty
diaries X., in High Street) was the most eligible they could
discover. It answered perfectly will: *>pe which mag-

282 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

uified one hundred times, and a microscope of about thrice
that power.

" Sir John Herschel then conceived the stupendous fabric of
his present telescope. The power of his father's instrument
would still leave him distant from his favorite planet nearly
forty miles, and he resolved to attempt a greater magnifier.
Money, the wings of science as the sinews of war, seemed the
only requisite, and even the acquisition of this, which is often
more difficult than the task of Sisyphus, he determined to
achieve. Fully sanctioned by the high optical authority of Sir
David Brewster, he laid his plan before the Royal Society, and
particularly directed to it the attention of His Royal Highness
the Duke of Sussex, the ever munificent patron of science and
the arts. It was immediately and enthusiastically approved by
the committee chosen to investigate it, and the chairman, who
was the Eoyal President, subscribed his name for a contribu-
tion of ten thousand pounds, with a promise that he would
zealously submit the proposed instrument as a fit object for the
patronage of the privy purse. He did so without delay, and
his Majesty, on being informed that the estimated expense was
seventy thousand pounds, naively inquired if the costly instru-
ment would conduce to any improvement in navigation? On
being informed that it undoubtedly would, the sailor king
promised a carte blanche for the amount which might be re-
quired.

" Sir John Herschel had submitted his plans and cak-ulatious
in adaptation to an object-glass of twenty-four feet in diame-
ter, — just six times the size of his venerable father's. For
casting this ponderous mass, he selected the large glass-house
of Messrs. Hartley and Grant (the brother of our invaluable
friend Dr. Grant), at Dumbarton. The material chosen was an
amalgamation of two parts of the best crown with one of flint
glass, the use of which, in separate lenses, constituted the great
achromatic discovery of Dolland. It had been found, however,
by accurate experiments, that the amalgam would as com-
pletely triumph over every impediment, both from refrangibility
and discoloration, as the separate lenses. Five furnaces of the
metal, carefully collected from productions of the manufactory,

A IIISTOUY OF M:W>I>AI-I:H TI«>\\ 283

in both llio kinds of glass, and known to be n !y of

nearly perfect homogeneous quality, were united, hy on<- grand
conductor, to the mould; and on the third of January, 1833,
tin- lirst ca-t was eH'eded. After cooling eight days, the mould
was opened, and the glass found to be greatly Hawed within
eighteen inelies of the centre. Notwithstanding this failure, a

O O

ne\v glass was more carefully cast on the twenty-seventh of
the ,-ame month, which, on being opened during the first week
of February, was found to be immaculately perfect, Avith the
exception of two slight Haws so near the line of its circumfer-
that they would be covered by the copper ring in which it
was designed to be enclosed.

"The weight of this prodigious lens was fourteen thousand
eight hundred and twenty-six pounds, or nearly seven tons
after being polished ; and its estimated magnifying power l'>rty-
two thousand times. It was therefore presumed to be capable
of representing objects in our lunar satellite of little more than
eighteen inches in diameter, provided its focal image of them
could be rendered distinct by the transfusion of artificial light.
It was not, however, upon the mere illuminating power of the
hydro-oxygen microscope, as applied to the focal pictures of
this lens, that the younger Ilerschel depended for tin- ivali/a-
tion of his ambitious theories and hopes. He calculated largely
upon the almost illimitable applicability of this instrument
second magnifier, which would supersede the use, and infinitely
transcend the powers of the highest magnifiers in reflecting
telex-opes.

"So saiiguinely indeed did he calculate upon the advantages
of this splendid alliance, that lit' expressed confidence in his
ultimate ability to study even the entomology of the moon, in

-he contained insects upon her sin-face. Having witn-
the completion of' this great lens, and its safe transportation to
tin' metropolis, iiis next care was the construction of a suitable
microscope, and of the mechanical framework, for the hori/oii-
tal and vertical action of the whole. His plans in every branch
of his undertaking having been intensely studied, even to their
minutest details, \\ere easily and rapidly executed. lie awaited

284 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

only the appointed period at which he was to convey his mag-
nificent apparatus to its destination.

" A correspondence had for some time passed between the
Boards of England, France, and Austria, with a view to im-
provements in the tables of longitude in the southern hemi-
sphere, which are found to be much less accurate than those
of the northern. The high opinion entertained by the British
Board of Longitude of the principles of the new telescope, and
of the profound skill of its inventor, determined the govern-
ment to solicit his services in observing the transit of Mercury
over the sun's disk, which will take place on the seventh of Xo-
vember in the present year ; and which, as it will occur at 7h.
47m. 55s. night, conjunction, mean time, and at 8h. 12m. 22s.
middle, true time, will be invisible to nearly all the northern
hemisphere. The place at which the transits of Mercury and
of Venus have generally been observed by the astronomers of
Europe, when occurring under these circumstances, is the Cape
of Good Hope ; and no transit of Venus having occurred since
the year 1769, and none being to occur before 1874, the accu-
rate observation of the transits of Mercury, which occur more
frequently, has been found of great importance both to astron-
omy and navigation. To the latter useful art, indeed, the
transits of Mercury are nearly as important as those of Venus ;
for although those of the latter planet have the peculiar ad-
vantage of determining exactly the great solar parallax, and
thence the distances of all the planets from the sun, yet the
transits of Mercury, by exactly determining the place of its
own node, independently of the parallax of the great orb, de-
termine the parallax of the earth and moon ; and are therefore
especially valuable in lunar observations of longitude. The
Capo of Good Hope has been found preferable, in these obser-
vations, to any other station in the hemisphere. The expedi-
tion which went to Peru, about the middle of the last century,
to ascertain, in conjunction with another in Lapland, the true
figure of the earth, found the attraction of the mountainous
regions so strong as to cause the plumb-line of one of their large
instruments to deflect seven or eight seconds from the true per-
pendicular ; whilst the elevated plains at the Cape unite all the

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES.

advantages of a lucid atmosphere with an entire freedom from
mountainous obstruction. Sir John Ilcrschel, therefore, not
only accepted the appointment with high satisfaction, but
requested that it might commence at least a year before the
period of the transit, to alFord him time to bring his ponderous
and complicated machinery into perfect adjustment, and to ex-
tend his knowledge of the southern constellations.

" His wish was immediately assented to, and his arrangements
being completed, he sailed from London% on the fourth of Sep-
tember, 1834, in company with Dr. Andrew Grant, Lieutenant
Drummond, of the lloyal Engineers, F.R.A.S., and a large
party of the best Knirli-h mechanics. They arrived, after an
expeditions and agreeable passage, and immediately proce
to transport the lens, and the frame of the large observatory, to
its destined site, which was a piece of table-land of great extent
and elevation, about thirty-five miles to the north-east of Cape-
town ; and which is said to be fhe very spot on which De la
Caille, in 1750, constructed his invaluable solar tables, when he
measured a degree of the meridian, and made a great advance
to exactitude in computing the solar parallax from that of Mars
and the Moon. Sir John accomplished the ascent to the plains
by means of two relief teams of oxen, of eighteen each, in about
four days ; and, aided by several companies of Dutch Boors,
proceeded at once to the erection of his gigantic fabric.

"The ground plan of the structure is in some respects simitar
to that of the Ilersdiel telescope in England, that

instead of circular foundations ci' brickwork, it consists of
parallel circles of railroad iron, upon wooden framework
constructed that the turn-outs, or rather turn-ins, from the
, will conduct the observatory, which moves upon
them, to the innermost circle, which is the basis of the lens-
works, and to each of the circles that intervene. The diameter
of the smallest circle is twenty-eight feet : that of the la.
our correspondent has singularly forgotten to slate, though it
may be in some measure computed from the angle of incidence
projected by the lens, and th> occupied by the observa-

tory. The latter is a wooden building fifty feet square ::nd as
many high, with a flat roof and gutters of thin copper. Through

286 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

the side proximate to the lens is an aperture four feet in
diameter to receive its rays, and through the roof another, for
the same purpose in meridional observations. The lens, which
is enclosed in a frame of wood, and braced to its corners by
bars of copper, is suspended upon an axis between two pillars,
which are nearly as high as those which supported the celebrated
quadrant of Uleg Beg, being one hundred and fifty feet. These
are united at the top and bottom by cross-pieces, and strength-
ened by a number of diagonal braces ; and between them is a
double capstan for hoisting the lens from its horizontal line with
the observatory to the height required by its focal distance when
turned to the meridian ; and for elevating it to any intermediate
degree of altitude that may be needed. This last operation is
beautifully regulated by an immense double sextant, which is
connected and moves with the axis of the lens, and is regularly
divided into degrees, minutes, and seconds ; and the horizontal
circles of the observatory behig also divided into three hundred
and sixty degrees, and minutely subdivided, the whole instru-
ment has the powers and regularity of the most improved the-
odolite. Having no tube, it is connected with the observatory
by two horizontal levers, which pass underneath the floor of
that building from the circular basis of the pillars ; thus keep-
ing the lens always square with the observatory, and securing
to both a uniform and simple movement. By means of these
levers, too, a rack and windlass, the observatory is brought to
any degree of approximation to the pillars that the altitude of
an observation may require ; and although, when at its nearest
station, it cannot command an observation with the great lens
within about fifteen degrees of the meridian, it is supplied with
an excellent telescope of vast power, constructed by the elder
Hcrschel, by which every high degree can be surveyed. The
field of view, therefore, whether exhibited on the floor or on
the wall of the apartment, has a diameter of nearly fifty feet,
and, being circular, it has therefore an area of nearly one thou-
sand eight hundred and seventy-five feet. The place of all the
horizontal movements having been accurately levelled by
Lieut. Drommond, with the improved level of his invention
which bears his name, and the wheels both of the observatory

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES.

and of the lens-works being facilitated by friction-rollers in
patent axle-boxes filled with oil, the strength of one man ap-
plied to the extremity of the levers is sufficient to propel the
whole structure upon either of the railroad circles; and that of
two men applied to the windlass is fully adequate to bring the
observatory to the basis of the pillars. Both of these move-
ments, however, are now effected by a locomotive apparatus
commanded within the apartment by a single person, and show-
in'.:, by means of an ingenious index, every inch of progression
or retrogression.

" We have not thus particularly described the telescope of the
younger Ilorschel, because we consider it the most magnificent
specimen of philosophical mechanism of the present or any
previous age, but because we deemed an explicit description of
iN principles and powers an almost indispensable introduction
statement of the sublime expansion of human knowledge
whirli it has achieved. It was not fully completed until the
latter part of December, when the series of large reflectors for
the microscope arrived from England; and it was brought
into operation during the first week of the ensuing month and
year, lint the secrecy which had been maintained with regard
to its in:-, manufacture, and its destination was not I< sg

rigidly p'-ev.-rved for several months respecting the grandeur
of its success. Whether the British Government were skeptical
concerning the promised splendor of its discoveries, or wished
them to b;> scrupulously veiled until they had accumulated a
full-orbed glory for the nation and reign in which they origi-
nated, is a question which wo can only conjoeturally solve.
r>ut certain it is that the astronomer's royal patrons enjoined a
masonic taciturnity upon him and his friends until he should
have officially communicated the results of his great experi-
ment '. vdingly. the world heard nothing of him or his
expedition nntfl it was announced a few months since, in the
scientific journals of (iermany, that Sir John Ilerschel, at the
of (Jood Hope, had written to the astronomer-royal of
Vienna, to inform him that the portentous c(.mcf predict
the year 1S.">.">, which was to approach so near this trembling
globe that we might hoar the roaring of it- tires, had turned

288 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

upon another scent, and would not even shake a hair of its tail
upon our hunting-grounds. At a loss to conceive by what
extra authority he had made so bold a declaration, the men of
science in Europe, who were not acquainted with his secret,
regarded his ' postponement,' as his discovery was termed,
with incredulous contumely, and continued to terrorize upon
the strength of former predictions.

"NEW LUNAR DISCOVERIES.

" Until the tenth of January, the observations were chiefly
directed to the stars in the southern signs, in which, without
the aid of the hydro-oxygen reflectors, a countless number of
new stars and nebula? were discovered. But we shall defer
our correspondent's account of these to future pages, for the
purpose of no longer withholding from our readers the more
generally and highly interesting discoveries which were made
in the lunar world. And for this purpose, too, we shall defer
Dr. Grant's elaborate mathematical details of the corrections
which Sir John Herschel has made in the best tables of the
moon's tropical, sidereal, and synodic revolutions, and of those
phenomena of syzygies on which a great part of the estab-
lished lunar theory depends.

"It was about half-past nine o'clock on the night of the
tenth, the moon having then advanced within four days of her
mean libration, that the astronomer adjusted his instruments
for the inspection of her eastern limb. The whole i:m;
power of his telescope was applied, and to its focal i
about one-half of the power of his microscope. On removing
the screen of the latter, the field of view was covered through-
out its entire area with a beautifully distinct, and even
representation of basaltic rock. Its color was a greenish-brown,
and the width of the columns, as defined by their interstices
on the canvas, was invariably twenty-eight inches. Xo frac-
ture whatever appeared in the mass first presented, but in a
few seconds a shelving pile appeared of five or six columns'
width, which showed their figure to be hexagonal, and their ar-
ticulations similar to those of the basaltic formation at Staffa.
This precipitous shelf was profusely covered with a dark-red

A HISTORY OF NEWSrArF.U HOAXES. 289

flower, 'precisely similar,' says Dr. Grant, 'to the Papaver
Rhtcas, or rose-poppy of our sublunary corn-fields ; and this
was the first organic production of nature, in a foreign world,
ever revealed to the eyes of men.'

"The rapidity of the moon's ascension, or rather of the
earth's diurnal rotation, being nearly equal to five hundred
yards in a second, would have effectually prc'vented the inspec-
tion, or even the discovery, of objects so minute as these, but
for the admirable mechanism which constantly regulates, under
the guidance of the sextant, the required altitude of the lens.
But its operation was found to be so consummately perfect,
that the observers could detain the object upon the field of view
for any period they might desire. The specimen of lunar vege-
tation, however, which they had already seen, had decided a
question of too exciting an interest to induce them to retard its
exit. It had demonstrated that the moon has an atmosphere
constituted similarly to our own, and capable of sustaining
organixed, and therefore, most probably, animal life. The
basaltic rocks continued to pass over the inclined canvas
plane, through three successive diameters, when a verdant de-
clivity of great beauty appeared, which occupied two more.
This was preceded by another mass of nearly the former height,
at the base of which they were at length delighted to perceive
that novelty, a lunar forest. 'The trees,' says Dr. Grant, 'for
a period of ten minutes, were of one unvaried kind, and unlike
any I have seen, except the largest kind of yews in the English
chureh-yanN. \\hich they in some respects resemble. These
followed by a level green plain, which, as measured by
the painted circle on our canvas of forty-nine feet, must have
been more than half a mile in breadth; and then appeared as
tine a forest of firs, uiicijuivocal firs, as I have ever seen cher-
ished in the bosom of my native mountains. Wearied with
the loni: continuance of these, we greatly reduced the magni-
fying power.- of the microscope, without eclipsing either of the
reflectors, and immediately perceived that we had been in-.-nsi-
bly descendin::, 08 it vreie, :i mountainous district of a highly
diversified and romantic character, and that we were on the
verge of a lake, or inland sea; but of what relative locality or
19

290 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND TIIE NEW YORK PRESS.

extent, we were yet too greatly magnified to determine. On
introducing the feeblest achromatic lens we possessed, we found
that the water, whose boundary we had just discovered, an-
swered in general outline to the Mare Nubium of Riccoli, by
which we detected that, instead of commencing, as we sup-
posed, on the eastern longitude of the planet, some delay in
the elevation of the great lens had thrown us nearly upon the
axis of her equator. However, as she was a free country, and
we not, as yet, attached to any particular province, and, more-
over, since we could at any moment occupy our intended posi-
tion, we again slid in our magic lenses to survey the shores of
the Mare Nubium. Why Riccoli so termed it, unless in ridi-
cule of Cleomedes, I know not ; for fairer shores never angels
coasted on a tour of pleasure. A beach of brilliant white
sand, girt with wild, castellated rocks, apparently of green
marble, varied at chasms, occurring every two or three hun-
dred feet, with grotesque blocks of chalk or gypsum, and
feathered and festooned at the summit with the clustering foli-
age of unknown trees, moved along the bright wall of our
apartment until we were speechless with admiration. The.
water, wherever we obtained a view of it, was nearly as blue
as that of the deep ocean, and broke in large, white billows
upon the strand. The action of very high tides was quite man-
ifest upon the face of the cliffs for more than a hundred miles ;
yet diversified as the scenery was during this and a much
greater distance, we perceived no trace of animal existence,
notwithstanding we could command at will a perspective or a
foreground view of the whole. Mr. Holmes, indeed, pro-
nounced some white objects of a circular form, which we saw
at some distance in the interior of a cavern, to be bona fide
specimens of a large cornu ammonis ; but to me they appeared
merely large pebbles, which had been chafed and rolled there
by the tides. Our chase of animal life was not yet to be re-
warded.

" Having continued this close inspection nearly two hours,
during which we passed over a wide tract of country, chiefly
of a rugged and apparently volcanic character ; and having
seen few additional varieties of vegetation, except some species

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 291

of lichen, which grew everywhere in great abundance, Dr.
Ilcrschel proposed that we should take out all our lenses, give
a rapid speed to the panorama, and search for some of the
principal valleys known to astronomers, as the most likely
method to reward our first night's observation with the discov-
ery of animated beings. The lenses being removed, and the
effulgence of our unutterably glorious reflectors left nndimiii-
ished, we found, in accordance with our calculations, that our
Held of view comprehended about twenty-five miles of the lu-
nar surface, with the distinctness both of outline and detail
which could be procured of a terrestrial object at the distance
of two and a half miles ; an optical phenomenon which you
will find demonstrated in Note five. This afforded us the best
landscape views we had hitherto obtained, and, although the
accelerated motion was rather too great, we enjoyed thorn with
rapture. Several of those famous valleys, which are bounded
by lofty hills of so perfectly conical a form as to render them
less like works of nature than of art, passed the canvas before
we had time to check their flight ; but presently a train of
scenery met our eye, of features so entirely novel, that Dr.
Ilorschel signalled for the lowest convenient gradation of
movement. It was a lofty chain of obelisk-shaped, or very
slender pyramids, standing in irregular groups, each composed
of about thirty or forty spires, every one of which was per-
fectly square, and as accurately truncated as the finest speci-
mens of Cornish crystal. They were of a faint lilac hue, and
very resplendent. I now thought that we had suddenly fallen
on productions of art; but Dr. Herschel shrewdly remarked,
that if the Lunarians could build thirty or forty miles of such
monuments as the^e, we should ere now have discovered others
of a less equivocal character, lie pronounced them quartz
formations, of probably the wine-colored amethyst species, and
pn.misrd u-, from these and other proofs which ho had
obtained of tin' powerful action of laws of crystallization in this
planet, a rich field of niinoraloirical study. On introducing a
lens, his conjecture was fully confirmed : they wore monstrous
amethysts, of a diluted claret color, glowing in the intr
light of the sun ! They varied in height from sixty to ninety

292 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YOKE. PRESS.

feet, though we saw several of a still more incredible altitude.
They were observed in a succession of valleys divided by lon-
gitudinal lines of round-breasted hills, covered with verdure,
and nobly undulated ; but what is most remarkable, the valleys
which contained these stupendous crystals were invariably bar-
ren, and covered with stones of a ferruginous hue, which were
probably iron pyrites. We found that some of these curiosi-
ties were situated in a district elevated half a mile above the
valley of the Mare Fcecunditatis, of Mayer and Riccioli, the
shores of which soon hove in view. But never was a name
more inappropriately bestowed. From ' Dan to Beersheba '
all was barren, barren, — the sea-board was entirely composed
of chalk and flint, and not a vestige of vegetation could be dis-
covered with our strongest glasses. The whole breadth of the
northern extremity of this sea, which was about three hundred
miles, having crossed our plane, we entered upon a wild, moun-
tainous region abounding with more extensive forests of larger
trees than we had before seen, the species of which I have no
good analogy to describe. In general contour they resembled
our forest oak ; but they were much more superb in foliage,
having broad, glossy leaves like that of the laurel, and tresses
of yellow flowers which hung, in the open glades, from the
branches to the ground. These mountains passed, we arrived
at a region which filled us with utter astonishment. It was an
oval valley, surrounded, except at a narrow opening towards
the south, by hills red as the purest vermilion, and evidently
crystallized ; for wherever a precipitous chasm appeared — and
these chasms were very frequent, and of immense depth — the
perpendicular sections presented conglomerated masses of
polygon crystals, evenly fitted to each other, and arranged in
dce}> strata, which grew darker in color as they descended to
the foundations of the precipices. Innumerable cascades were
bursting forth from the breasts of every one of these cliffs, and
some so near their summits, and with such great force, as to
form arches many yards in diameter. I never was so vividly
reminded of Byron's simile, ' the tale of the white horse in the
Revelatio.il.' At the foot of this boundary of hills was a per-
fect zone of woods surrounding the whole valley, which was

A HISTORY OF N ::i: HOAXES. 293

about eighteen or twenty miles wide, at its greatest breadth,
and about thirty in length. Small collections of trees, of «•
imaginable kind, were scattered about the whole of the luxuri-
ant area ; and here our magnifiers blessed our panting hopes
with specimens of conscious existence. In the shade of the
woods on the south-eastern side, v/e beheld continuous herds of
brown quadrupeds, having all the external characteristics of
the bison, but more diminutive than any species of the bos
genus in our natural history. Its tail is like that of our bos
grunniens ; but in its semi-circular horns, the hump on its
shoulders, and flic depth of its dewlap, and the length of its
shaggy hair, it closely resembled the species to which I first
compared it. It had, however, one widely distinctive feature,
which we afterwards found common to nearly every lunar quad-
ruped we have discovered; namely, a remarkable fleshy
appendage over the eyes, crossing the whole breadth of the
forehead and united to the ears. We could most distinctly
perceive this hairy veil, which was shaped like the upper front
outline of a cap known to the ladies as Mary Queen of Scots'
cap, lifted and lowered by means of the ears. It immediately
occurred to the acute mind of Dr. Herschel, that this was a
providential contrivance to protect the eyes of the animal from
the great extremes of light and darkness to which all the
inhabitants of our side of the moon are periodically subjected.
" The next animal perceived would be classed on earth as a
monster. It was of a bluish lead color, about the size of a
goat, with a head and heard like him, and a single 7/orn,
slightly inclined forward from the perpendicular. The female
wa> destitute of the horn and beard, but had a much longer
tail. It was gregarious, and chiefly abounded on the aeclivi-
tous glades of the woods. In elegance of symmetry it rivalled
the antelope, and like him it seemed an agile, sprightly crea-
ture, running with great .--peed, and springing from the green
turf with all the unaccountable antics of a young lamb or kit-
ten. This beautiful creature- atl'orded us the most exquisite
amusement. The mimicry of its movements, upon our white
painted canvas was as faithful and luminous as that of animals
within a few yard- of the camera obsctira, when >eeii pictured

294 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK" PRESS.

upon its tympan. Frequently when attempting to put our
fingers upon its beard, it would suddenly bound away into
oblivion, as if conscious of our earthly impertinence ; but then
others would appear, whom we could not prevent nibbling the
herbage, say or do what we would to them.

M On examining the centre of this delightful valley, we found
a large, branching river, abounding with lovely islands, and
water-birds of numerous kinds. A species of gray pelican was
the most numerous ; but a black and white crane, with unrea-
sonably long legs and bill, was also quite common. We
watched their pisciverous experiments a longtime, in hopes of
catching sight of a lunar fish ; but although we were not grati-
fied in this respect, we could easily guess the purpose with
which they plunged their long necks so deeply beneath the
water. Near the upper extremity of one of these islands we
obtained a glimpse of a strange, amphibious creature, of a
spherical form, which rolled with great velocity across the peb-
bly beach, and was lost sight of in the strong current which
set off from this angle of the island. We were compelled,
however, to leave this prolific valley unexplored, on account
of clouds which were evidently accumulating in the lunar
atmosphere, our own being perfectly translucent. But this
was itself an interesting discovery, for more distant observers
had questioned or denied the existence of any humid atmos-
phere in this planet.

" The moon being now low on her descent, Dr. Herschel
inferred that the increasing refrangibility of her rays would
prevent any satisfactory protraction of our labors, and our
minds being actually fatigued with the excitement of the high
enjoyments we had partaken, we mutually agreed to call in
the assistants at the lens, and reward their vigilant attention
with congratulatory bumpers of the best ' East India Particu-
lar.' It was not, however, without regret that we left the
splendid valley of the red mountains, which, in compliment to
the arms of our royal patron, we denominated ' the Valley of
the Unicorn ; ' and it may be found in Blunt's map, about mid-
way between the Mare Frecuuditatis and the Mare Nectaris.

" The nights of the eleventh and twelfth being cloudy, were

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 295

unfavorable to observation ; but on those of the thirteenth and
fourteenth further animal discoveries were made of the most
exciting interest to every human being. "NVo give them in the
graphic language of our accomplished correspondent: —

'The astonishing and beautiful discoveries which we had
made during our first night's observation, and the brilliant
promise which they gave of the future, rendered every moon-
light hour too precious to reconcile us to the deprivation occa-
sioned by these two cloudy evenings ; and they were borne
with strictly philosophical patience, notwithstanding that our
attention was closely occupied in superintending the erection
of additional props and braces to the twenty-four feet lens,
which we found had somewhat vibrated in a high wind that
arose on the morning of the eleventh. The night of the thir-
teenth (January) was one of pearly purity and loveliness. The
moon ascended the firmament in gorgeous splendor, and the
stars, retiring around her, left her the unrivalled queen of the
hemisphere. This being the last night but one, in the present
month, during which we should have an opportunity of inspect-
ing her western limb, on account of the libration in longitude
which would thence immediately ensue, Dr. Herschel informed
us that he should direct our researches to the parts numbered
2, 11, 2(>, and 20 in Blunt's map, and which are respectively
known in the modern catalogue by the names of Kndymion,
Clcomedes, Lanirrenus, and Petavins. To the careful inspec-
tion of these, and the regions between them and the extreme
\\t-~tern rim, he proposed to devote the whole of this highly
favorable night. Taking then our twenty-live miles' breadth of
her surface upon the field of view, and reducing it to a slow
movement, we soon found the first very singularly shaped
object of our ininiiry. It is a highly mountainous district, the
loftier ehaii,- «>f which form thiee narrow ovals, two of which
Approach each Other in slender points, and are united by one
ma-s of hills of great length and elevation: thus presenting a
figure similar to that of a long skein of thread, the bows of
which have been giadually spread open from their connecting
knot. The third oval looks also like a skein, and lie- a- if
y dropped from nature's hand in connection with the

296 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

other ; but that which might fancifully be supposed as having
formed the second bow of this second skein is cut open, and
lies in scattered threads of smaller hills which cover a great
extent of level territory. The ground plan of these mountains
is so remarkable that it has been accurately represented in
almost every lineal map of the moon that has been drawn ; and
in Blunt's, which is the best, it agrees exactly with my descrip-
tion. Within the grasp, as it were, of the broken bow of hills
last mentioned, stands an oval-shaped mountain, enclosing a
valley of an immense area, and having on its western ridge a
volcano in a state of terrific eruption. To the north-east of
this, across the broken, or what Mr. Holmes called "the vaga-
bond mountains," are three other detached oblong formations,
the largest and last of which is marked F in the catalogue, and
fancifully denominated the Mare Mortuum, or more commonly
the "Lake of Death." Induced by a curiosity to divine the
reason of so sombre a title, rather than by any more philosophi-
cal motive, we here first applied our hydro-oxygen magnifiers
to the focal image of the great lens. Our twenty-five miles'
portion of this great mountain circus had comprehended the
whole of its area, and of course the two conical hills which rise
in it about five miles from each other ; but although this breadth
of view had heretofore generally presented its objects as if seen
within a terrestrial distance of two and a half miles, we were,
in this instance, unable to discern these central hills with any
such degree of distinctness. There did not appear to be any
mist or smoke around them, as in the case of the volcano which
we had left in the south-wrest, and yet they were comparatively
indistinct upon the canvas. On sliding in the gas-light lens
the mystery was immediately solved. They were old craters
of extinct volcanoes, from which still issued a heated though
transparent exhalation, that kept them in an apparently oscil-
latory or trembling motion, most unfavorable to examination.
The craters of both these hills, as nearly as we could judge under
this obstruction, were about fifteen fathoms deep, devoid of
any appearance of fire, and of nearly a yellowish-white color
throughout. The diameter of each was about nine diameters
of our painted circle, or nearly four hundred and fifty feet ; and

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 297

the width of the rim surrounding thorn about one thousand feet ;
yet, notwithstanding their narrow mouths, those two chimney-,
of the subterranean deep had evidently filled the whole area of
the valley in which they stood with the lava and allies with
which it was encumbered, and even added to the height, if not
indeed caused the existence, of the oval chain of mountains
which sui-rounded it. These mountains, as subsequently meas-
ured from the level of some large lakes around them, averaged
the height of two thousand eight hundred feet ; and Dr. Her-
schel conjectured from this and the vast extent of their abut-
ment-, which ran for many miles into the country around them,
that these volcanoes must have been in full activity fora million
of years. Lieut. Drummoud, however, rather supposed that
the whole area of this oval valley was but the exhausted crater
of one vast volcano, which, in expiring, had left only these two
imbecile representatives of its power. I believe Dr. Ilerschel
himself afterwards adopted this probable theory, which is in-
deed confirmed by the universal geology of the planet. There
is scarcely a hundred miles of her surface, not even excepting
her largest seas and lakes, in which circular or oval mountainous
ridires may not be easily found; and many, very many of these
having numerous enclosed hills in full volcanic operation, which
are now much lower than the surrounding circles, it admits of
no doubt that each of these great formations is the remains of
one vast mountain which has burnt itself out, and left only
these wide foundations of its ancient grandeur. A direct proof
of this is afforded in a tremendous volcano, now in its prime,
which I shall hereafter notice. What gave the name of "The
Lake of Death" to the annular mountain I have just described,
WBB, I suppose, the dark appearance of the valley which it
encloses, and which, to a more distant view than we obtained,
certainly exhibits the general aspect of the waters on this planet.
The surrounding country is fertile to excess: between this cir-
cle and No. '2 (Kndymion), which we proposed first to exam-
ine, we counted not less than twelve luxuriant forests, divided
by open plains, which waved in an ocean of verdure, and were
probably prairies like those of North America. In three of
these we discovered numerous herds of quadrupeds .-imilar to

298 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

our friends the bisons in the Valle}*1 of the Unicorn, but of
much larger size ; and scarcely a piece of woodland occurred in
our panorama which did not dazzle our vision with flocks of
white or red birds upon the wing.

"At length we carefully explored the Endymion. ~\Ve
found each of the three ovals volcanic and sterile within ; but,
without, most rich, throughout the level regions around them,
in every imaginable production of a bounteous soil. Dr.
Herschel has classified not less than thirty-eight species of
forest trees, and nearly twice this number of plants, found in
this tract alone, which are widely different to those found in
more equatorial latitudes. Of animals, he classified nine
species of mammalia, and five of ovipara. Among the former
are a small kind of reindeer, the elk, the moose, the horned
bear, and the biped beaver. The last resembles the beaver of
the earth in every other respect than in its destitution of a tail,
and its invariable habit of walking upon only two feet. It
carries its young in its arms like a human being, and moves
with an easy, gliding motion. Its huts are constructed better
and higher than those of many tribes of human savages, and
from the appearance of smoke in nearly all of them, there is no
doubt of its being acquainted with the use of fire. Still its
head and body differ only in the points stated from that of the
beaver, and it was never seen except on the borders of lakes
and rivers, in which it has been observed to immerse for a
period of several seconds.

"'Thirty degrees farther south, is No. 11, or Cleomedos, an
immense annular mountain, containing three distinct craters,
which have been so long extinguished that the whole valley
around them, which is eleven miles in extent, is densely
crowded with woods nearly to the summits of the hills. Xot a
rod of vacant land, except the tops of these craters, could be
descried, and no living creature, except a large white bird re-
sembling the stork. At the southern extremity of this valley
is a natural archway or cavern, two hundred feet high, and one
hundred wide, through which runs a river which discharges
itself over a precipice of gray rock eighty feet in depth, and
then forms a branching stream through a beautiful champaign

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 299

district for many miles. Within twenty miles of this cataract
is tin- largest hike, or rather inland sea, that has been found
throughout the seven and a half millions of square miles which
this illuminated side of the moon contains. Its width, from
ca>t to west, is one hundred and ninety-eight miles, and from
north to south, two hundred and sixty-six miles. Its shape,
to the northward, is not unlike that of the Bay of Bengal,
and it is studded with small islands, most of which arc vol-
canic. Two of these, on the eastern side, are now violently
eruptive ; but our lowest magnifying power was too great to
examine than with convenience, on account of the cloud of
smoke and ashes which beclouded our field of view. As seen
by Lieutenant Drummoud, through our reflecting telescope of
two thousand times, they exhibited great brilliancy. In a bay,
on the western side of this sea, is an island fifty-five miles
long, of a crescent form, crowded through its entire sweep
with the most superb and wonderful natural beauties, both of
vegetation and geology. Its hills are pinnacled with tall
quartz crystals, of so rich a yellow and orange hue that we at
first supposed them to be pointed flames of fire ; and they
spring up thus from smooth, round brows of hills which are
covered as with a velvet mantle. Even in the enchanting little
valleys of ihis winding island we could often sec these splendid
natural spires, mounting in the midst of deep-green woods,
like church-steeples ill the vales of Westmoreland. We here
lir>t noticed the lunar palm-tree, which differs from that of our
tropical latitudes only in the peculiarity of very large crim-oii
flowers, instead of the spadix protruded from the common
calyx. We, however, perceived no fruit on any specimens we
saw, — a circumstance which we attempted to account for from
the great (theoretical) extremes in the lunar climate. On a
curious kind of tree-melon we nevertheless saw fruit in great
abundance, and in every stage of inception and maturity.
The general color of these woods was a dark-green, though not
without occasional admixtures of every tint of our forest sea-
BOns. The hectic flush of autumn was often seen kindled upon
the cheek of earliot spring; and the g:iy drapery of summer
in some places surrounded trees leafless as the victims of win-

300 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

ter. It seemed as if all the seasons here united hands in a
circle of perpetual harmony. Of animals we saw only an
elegant striped quadruped, about three feet high, like a minia-
ture zebra, which was always in small herds on the green
sward of the hills ; and two or three kinds of long-tailed birds,
which we judged to be golden and blue pheasants. On the
shores, however, we saw countless multitudes of univalve shell-
fish, and among them some huge flat ones, which all three of
my associates declared to be cornu ammonce; and I confess I
was here compelled to abandon my sceptical substitution of
pebbles. The cliffs all along these shores were deeply under-
mined by tides ; they were very cavernous, and yellow, crystal
stalactites larger than a man's thigh were shooting forth on all
sides. Indeed, every rood of this island appeared to be crys-
tallized ; masses of fallen crystals were found on every beach
we explored, and beamed from every fractured headland. It
was more like a creation of an oriental fancy than a distant
variety of nature brought by the powers of science to ocular
demonstration. The striking dissimilitude of this island to
every other we had found on these waters, and its near prox-
imity to the main land, led us to suppose that it must at some
time have been a part of it ; more especially as its crescent
bay embraced the first of a chain of smaller ones which ran
directly thither. The first one was a pure quartz rock, about
three miles in circumference, towering in naked majesty from
the blue deep, without either shore or shelter. But it glowed
in the sun almost like a sapphire, as did all the lesser ones of
whom it seemed the king. Our theory was speedily con-
firmed ; for all the* shore of the main land was battlemented
and spired with these unobtainable jewels of nature ; and as
we brought our field of view to include the utmost rim of the
illuminated boundary of the planet, we could still see them
blazing in crowded battalions as it were, through a region of§
hundreds of miles. In fact, we could not conjecture where
this gorgeous land of enchantment terminated ; for as the
rotary motion of the planet bore these mountain summits from
"our view, we became further remote from then- western boun-
dary.

A IIISTOHY OF NTrWSPATEK HOAXES. 301

' "We wore admonished by this to lose no time in seeking the
next proposed object of our search, the Lan^rcnus, or \<>. 2G,
which i-; almost \\ithiu the verge of the lilmition in longitude,
uud of which, for this reason, Dr. Ilerschel entertained some
.singular expectations.

"After a short delay in advancing the observatory upon the
. and in regulating the lens, we found our object and
surveyed it. It was a dark, narrow lake, seventy miles loiur, -
bounded, on the east, north, and west, by red mountains of the
same character as those surrounding the Valley of the Unicorn,
from which it is distant to the south-west about one hundred
and sixty miles. This lake, like that valley, opens to the south
upon a plain not more than ten miles wide, which is here encir-
cled by a truly magnificent amphitheatre of the loftiest order
of lunar hills. For a semicircle of six miles these hills are
riven, from their brow to their base, as perpendicularly as the
outer walls of the Colosseum at Rome ; but here exhibiting the
sublime altitude of at least two thousand feet, in one smooth,
unbroken surface. How nature disposed of the huge mass
which she thus prodigally carved out, I know not ; but certain
it is that there are no fragments of it left upon the plain, which
is a declivity without a single prominence except a billowy
tract of woodland that runs in many a wild vagary of breadth
and course to the margin of the lake. The tremendous height
and expansion of this perpendicular mountain, with its bright
crimson front contrasted with the fringe of forest on its brow,
and the verdure of the open plain beneath, filled our canvas
with a landscape unsurpassed in unique grandeur by any we had
beheld. Our twenty-five miles' perspective included this re-
markablc mountain, the plain, a part of the lake, and the last
graduated summits of the range of hills by which the latter is
nearly surrounded. We ardently wished that all the world
could view a scene so strangely grand, and our pulse beat high
with the hope of one day exhibiting it to our countrymen in
some part of our native land. But we were at length com-
pelled to di-stroy our picture, as a whole, for the purpose of
magnifying its parts lor scientific inspection. Our plain was
of course immediately covered with the ruby front of this

302 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

mighty amphitheatre, its tall figures, leaping cascades, and
rugged caverns. As its almost interminable sweep was meas-
ured off upon the canvas, we frequently saw long lines of some
yellow metal hanging from the crevices of the horizontal strata
in wild network, or straight pendant branches. We of course
concluded that this was virgin gold, and we had no assay-mas-
ter to prove to the contrary. On searching the plain, over
which wre had observed the woods roving in all the shapes of
clouds in the sky, we were again delighted with the discovery
of animals. The first observed was a quadruped with an
amazingly long neck, head like a sheep, bearing two long
spiral horns, white as polished ivory, and standing in perpen-
dicular parallel to each other. Its body was like that of the
deer, but its fore-legs were most disproportionally long, and
its tail, which was very bushy and of a snowy whiteness, curled
high over its rump, and hung two or three feet by its side.
Its colors were bright bay and white in brindled patches,
clearly defined, but of no regular form. It was found only in
pairs, in spaces between the woods, and we had no opportunity
of witnessing its speed or habits. But a few minutes only
elapsed before three specimens of another animal appeared, so
well known to us all that we fairly laughed at the recognition
of so familiar an acquaintance in so distant a land. They were
neither more nor less than three good large sheep, which would
not have disgraced the farms of Leicestershire, or the shambles
of Leadeuhall market. With the utmost scrutiny, we could
find no mark of distinction between these and those of our
native soil ; they had not even the appendage over the eyes,
which I have described as common to lunar quadrupeds.
Presently they appeared in great numbers, and, on reducing the
lenses, we found them in Hocks over a great part of the valley.
I need not say how desirous we were of finding shepherds to
these flocks, and even a man with blue apron and rolled-up
sleeves would have been a welcome sight to us, if not to the
sheep ; but they fed in peace, lords of their own pastures,
without either protector or destroyer in human shape.

:'"VVe at length approached the level opening to the lake,
where the valley narrows to a mile in width, and displays

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 303

scenery on both sides picturesque and romantic beyond the
powers of a prose description. Imagination, borne on the
wings of poetry, could alone gather similes to portray the wild
sublimity of this landscape, where dark behemoth crags stood
over the brows of lofty precipices, as if a rampart in the sky,
and forests seemed suspended in mid-air. On the eastern side
there was one soaring crag, crested with trees, which hung over
in a curve like three-fourths of a Gothic arch, and, being of a
rich crimson color, its effect was most strange upon minds
unaccustomed to the association of such grandeur with such
beauty.

f But whilst gazing upon them in a perspective of about
half a mile, we were thrilled with astonishment to perceive four
successive flocks of large winged creatures, wholly unlike any
kind of birds, descend with a slow, even motion from the cliffs
on the western side, and alight upon the plain. They were
first noticed by Dr. Herschel, who exclaimed, "Now, gentle-
men, my theories against your proofs, which you have often
found a pretty even bet, we have here something worth looking
at. I was confident that if ever we found beings in human
shape, it would be in this longitude, and that they would be
provided by their Creator with some extraordinary powers of
locomotion. First, exchange for my number D." This lens be-
iiiLT soon introduced, gave us a fine half-mile distance, and we
counted three parties of these creatures, of twelve, nine, and
fifteen in each, walking erect towards a small wood near the
base of the eastern precipices. Certainly they were like human
beings, for their wings had now disappeared, and their attitude
in walking was both erect and dignified. Having observed
them at this distance for some minutes, we introduced lens
\\hich brought them to the apparent proximity of eighty
yards, — the highe>t clear magnitude we possessed until the lat-
ter eiul of .March, when we efi'ectcd an improvement in the gas-
burners. About half of the first party had passed beyond our
canvas: but of all the others we had a perfectly distinct and
deliberate view. They averaged four feet in height, were cov-
ered, except on the lace, with short and glo>sy copper-colored
hair, and had wings composed of a thin membrane, without

o04 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

hair, lying snugly upon their backs, from the top of the shoul-
ders to the calves of their legs. The face, which was of a yel-
lowish flesh-color, was a slight improvement upon that of the
large orang-outang, being more open and intelligent in its
expression, and having a much greater expansion of forehead.
The mouth, however, was very prominent, though somewhat
relieved by a thick beard upon the lower jaw, and by lips far
more human than those of any species of the simia genus. In
general symmetry of body and limbs they were infinitely
superior to the orang-outang; so much so, that, but for their
long wings, Lieut. Drummoud said they would look as well on
a parade ground as some of the old cockney militia ! The hair
on the head was a darker color than that of the body, closely
curled, but apparently not woolly, and arranged in two curious
semicircles over the temples of the forehead. Their feet could
only be seen as they were alternately lifted in walking ; but,
from what we could see of them in so transient a view, they
appeared thin, and very protuberant at the heel.

' Whilst passing across the canvas, and whenever we after-
wards saw them, these creatures were evidently engaged in
conversation ; their gesticulation, more particularly the varied
action of their hands and arms, appeared impassioned and em-
phatic. We hence inferred that they were rational beings, and,
although not perhaps of so high an order as others which we
discovered the next month on the shores of the Bay of Rain-
bows, that they were capable of producing works of art and
contrivance. The next view we obtained of them was still
more favorable. It was on the borders of a little lake, or
expanded stream, which we then for the first time perceived
running down the valley to a large lake, and having on its
eastern margin a small wood.

"'Some of these creatures had crossed this water, and were
lying like spread eagles on the skirts of the wood. We could
then perceive that they possessed wings of great expansion,
and were similar in structure to those of the bat, being a semi-
transparent membrane expanded in curvilineal divisions by
means of straight radii, united at the back by the dorsal integ-
uments. But what astonished us very much was the circum-

A IIISTOKV OF M:\VSPAPER HOAXES.

Stan-'. • of (his membrane being continued, from the shoulders
to the legs, united all the \vay down, though gradually decreas-
ing in width. The wings seemed completely under the com-
mand of volition, for those of the creatures whom we
bathing in the water spread them instantly to their full width,
waved them as ducks- do theirs to shake off the water, and
then as instantly closed them again in a compact form. Our
further observation of the habits of these creatures, who were
of both sexes, led to results so very remarkable, that t prefer
they should first be laid before the public in Dr. Herschel's
own work, where I have reason to know they are fully and
faithfully stated, however incredulously they may be received.

The three families then almost simultaneously

spread their wings, and were lost in the dark confines of the
canvas before we had time to breathe from our paralyzing
astonishment. We scientifically denominated them the Vesper-
tilio-homo, or man-bat ; and they are doubtless innocent and
happy creatures, notwithstanding that some of their amuse-
ments would but ill comport with our terrestrial notions of
decorum. The valley itself we called the Ruby Colosseum, in
compliment to its stupendous southern boundary, the six-mile
sweep of precipices two thousand feet high. And the night,
or rather morning, being far advanced, we postponed our tour
to IVtavius (Xo. 20) until another opportunity.'

"We have, of course, faithfully obeyed Dr. Grant's private
injunction to omit those highly curious passages in his corre-
spondence which he wished us to suppress, although we do not
perceive the force of the reason assigned for it. It is true, the
omitted paragraphs contain facts which would be wholly in-
crediMe to readers who do not carefully examine the principles
and capacity of the instrument with which these marvellous
discoveries have been made: but so will nearly all of those
which he has kindly permitted us to publish; and it was for
this reason that we considered the explicit description which
we have given of the telescope so important a preliminary.
From thoe, however, and other prohibited pass-i-vs, which
will lie published by Dr. Herscliel, with the certificates of the
civil and military authorities of the colony, and of several
20

306 HENRY J. KAYMOXD AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Episcopal, Wesleyan, and other ministers, who, in the month
of March lastt were permitted, under stipulation of temporary
secrecy, to visit the observatory, and become eye-witnesses of
the wonders which they were requested to attest, we are confi-
dent his forthcoming volumes will be at once the most sublime
in science, and the most intense in general interest, that ever
issued from the press.

" The night of the fourteenth displa}- ed the moon in her mean
libration, or full ; but the somewhat humid state of the atmos-
phere being for several hours less favorable to a minute in-
spection than to a general survey of her surface, they were
chiefly devoted to the latter purpose. But shortly after mid-
night the last veil of mist was dissipated, and the sky being
as lucid as on the former evenings, the attention of the astron-
omers was arrested by the remarkable outlines of the spot
marked Tycho, No. 18, in Blunt's lunar chart ; and in this re-
gion they added treasures to human knowledge which angels
might well desire to win. Many parts of the following extract
will remain forever in the chronicles of time : —

"'The surface of the moon, when viewed in her mean libra-
tion, even with telescopes of very limited power, exhibits three
oceans, of vast breadth and circumference, independently of
seven large collections of water, which may be denominated
seas. Of inferior waters, discoverable by the higher classes of
instruments, and usually called lakes, the number is so great
that no attempt has yet been made to count them. Indeed,
such a task would be almost equal to that of enumerating the
annular mountains which are found upon every part of her sur-
face, whether composed of land or water. The largest of the
three oceans occupies a considerable portion of the hemisphere
between the line of her northern axis and that of her eastern
equator, and even extends many degrees south of the latter.
Throughout its eastern boundary it so closely approaches that
of the lunar sphere, as to leave in many places merely a fringe
of illuminated mountains, which are here, therefore, strongly
contra-distinguished from the dark and shadowy aspect of the
great deep. But peninsulas, promontories, capes, and islands.
and a thousand other terrestrial figures, for which we can find

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 307

no names in the poverty of our geographical nomenclature,
are found expanding, sallying forth, or glowing in insular inde-
pendence, through all the "billowy boundlessness" of this
magnificent ocean. One of the most remarkable of these is a
promontory, without a name, I believe, in the lunar charts,
which starts from an island district denominated Copernicus,
by the old astronomers, and abounding, as we eventually dis-
covered, with great natural curiosities. This promontory is
indeed most singular. Its northern extremity is shaped much
like an imperial crown, having a swelling bow, divided and
tied down in its centre by a band of hills, which is united with
its forehead band or base. The two open spaces formed by
this division are two lakes, each eighty miles wide ; and at the
foot of these, divided from them by the band of hills last men-
tioned, is another lake, larger than the two put together, and
nearly perfectly square. This one is followed, after another
hilly division, by a lake of an irregular form ; and this one yet
again, by two narrow ones, divided longitudinally, which are
attenuated northward to the main land. Thus this skeleton
promontory of mountain ridges runs three hundred and ninety-
six miles into the ocean, with six capacious lakes enclosed
within its stony ribs. Blunt's excellent lunar chart gives this
great work of nature with wonderful fidelity, and I think you
might accompany my description with an engraving from it,
much to your readers' satisfaction. (See Plate 4.)

' Next to this, the mos,t remarkable formation in this ocean
i- a strikingly brilliant annular mountain of immense altitude
and cireumference, standing three hundred and thirty miles
E.S.E., commonly known as Aristarchus (No. 12), and
marked in the chart as a large mountain, with a great cavity in
its centre. That cavity is now, as it was probably wont to be
in ancient RgQBj .• volcanic crater, awfully rivalling our Mounts
Ktna and Vesuvius, in the most terrible epochs of their reign.
Unfavorable as the state of the atmosphere was to close exam-
ination, we could easily mark its illumination of the water over
a circuit of >i\ty miles. If we had before retained any doubt
of the power of lunar volcanoes to throw fragments of their
craters so far bevond the moon's attraction that thev would

308 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

necessarily gravitate to this earth, and thus account for the
multitude of massive aerolites which have fallen and been
found upon our surface, the view which we had of Aristarchus
would have set our skepticism forever at rest. This mountain,
however, though standing three hundred miles in the ocean, is
not absolutely insular, for it is connected with the main land
by four chains of mountains, which branch from it as a common
centre.

r The next great ocean is situated on the western side of the
meridian line, divided nearly in the midst by the line of the
equator, and is about nine hundred miles in north and south
extent. It is marked C in the catalogue, and was fancifully
called the Mare Tranquillitatis. It is rather two large seas
than one ocean, for it is narrowed just under the equator by a
strait not more than one hundred miles wide. Only three an-
nular islands of a large size, and quite detached from its
shores, are to be found within it ; though several sublime vol-
canoes exist on its northern boundary; one of the most stu-
pendous of which is within one hundred and twenty miles of
the Mare Nectaris before mentioned. Immediately contiguous
to this second great ocean, and separated from it only by a
concatenation of dislocated continents and islands, is the third,
marked D, and known as the Mare Serenitatis. It is nearly
square, being about three hundred and thirty miles in length
and width. But it has one most extraordinary peculiarity,
which is a perfectly straight ridge of hills, certainly not more
than five miles wide, which starts in a direct line from its
southern to its northern shore, dividing it exactly in the midst.
This singular ridge is perfectly sui generis, being altogether
unlike any mountain chain either on this earth or on the moon
itself. It is so very keen, that its great concentration of the
solar light renders it visible to small telescopes ; but its char-
acter is so strikingly peculiar, that we could not resist the
temptation to depart from our predetermined adherence to a
general survey, and examine it particularly. Our lens G x
brought it within the small distance of eight hundred yards,
and its whole width of four or five miles snugly within that of
our canvas. Nothing that we had hitherto seen more highly

A HISTORY OF NEWS TAP I'.!: HOAXES. 309

excited oar astonishment. Believe it or believe it not, it
one entire crystallization! Its edge, throughout its whole
lenirth of throe hundred and forty miles, is :iu acute aii'_rlc of
solid quartz crystal, brilliant as a piece of Derbyshire spar ju.-t
brought from a mine, and containing scarcely a fracture or a
chasm from end to end ! "What a prodigious influence mu>t
our thirteen times larger globe have exercised upon this satel-
lite, when an embryo in the womb of time, the passive subject
of chemical affinity ! "We found that wonder and astonishment,
as excited by objects in this distant world, were but modes
and attributes of ignorance, which should give place to ele-
vated expectations, and to reverential confidence in the illimit-
able power of the Creator.

'The dark expanse of waters to the south of the first great
ocean has often been considered a forth ; but we found it to
be merely a sea of the first class, entirely surrounded by land,
and much more encumbered with promontories and islands
than it has boon exhibited in any lunar chart. One of its prom-
ontories runs from the vicinity of Pitatus (No. 19), in a
slightly curved and very narrow line, to Bullialdus (No.
which is merely a circular head to it, two hundred and sixty-
jour miles from its starting-place. This is another mountain-
ous ring, a marine volcano, nearly burnt out, and slumbering
upon its cinders. But Pitatus, standing upon a bold cape of
the southern shore, is apparently exulting in the might and
majesty of its fires. The atmosphere being now quite free
from vapor, we introduced the- magnifiers to examine a large,
bright circle of hills which sweep close beside the western
abutments of this flaming mountain. The hills were cither of
snow-uhite marble, or semi-transparent crystal, we could not
distinguish which, and they bounded another of those lovely
green valleys, \\hich, however monotonous in my descriptions,
are of paradisaical beauty and fertility, and like primitive Kden
in the bliss of their inhabitants. Dr. Herschcl here again
predicated another of his sagacious theories. He said the
proximity of the flaming mountain, Bullialdus, must be so great
a local convenience to dwellers in this valley during the long
periodical absence of solar light, as to render it a place of

310 IIENEY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PKESS.

populous resort for the inhabitants of all the adjacent regions,
more especially as its bulwark of hills afforded an infallible se-
curity against any volcanic eruption that could occur. We
therefore applied our full power to explore it, and rich indeed
was our reward.

' ' The very first object in this valley that appeared upon our
canvas was a magnificent work of art. It was a temple — a
fane of devotion, or of science, which, when consecrated to the
Creator, is devotion of the loftiest order ; for it exhibits his
attributes purely free from the masquerade, attire, and blasphe-
mous caricature of controversial creeds, and has the seal and
signature of his own hand to sanction its aspirations. It was
an equitri angular temple, built of polished sapphire, or of some
resplendent blue stone, which, like it, displayed a myriad
points of golden light twinkling and scintillating in the sun-
beams. Our canvas, though fifty feet in diameter, was too
limited to receive more than a sixth part of it at one view, and
the first part that appeared was near the centre of one of its
sides, being three square columns, six feet in diameter at the
base, and gently tapering to a height of seventy feet. The
intercolumniations were each twelve feet. We instantly re-
duced our magnitude, so as to embrace the whole structure in
one view, and then indeed it was most beautiful. The roof
was composed of some yellow metal, and divided into three
compartments, which were not triangular planes inclining to
the centre, but subdivided, curbed, and separated, so as to
present a mass of violently agitated flames rising from a com-
mon source of conflagration and terminating in wildly waving
points. This design was too manifest, and too skilfully exe-
cuted to be mistaken for a single moment. Through a few
openings in these metallic flames we perceived a large sphere
of a darker kind of metal nearly of a clouded copper color,
which they enclosed and seemingly raged around, as if hicro-
glyphically consuming it. This was the roof; but upon each
of the three corners there was a small sphere of apparently the
same metal as the large centre one, and these rested upon a
kind of cornice, quite new in any order of architecture with
which we are acquainted, but nevertheless exceedingly grace-

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPKU HOAXES. 311

fill and impressive. It "\vas like a half> Opened s mil. -welling
oft' boldly from the roof, and hanging far over the w.dls in sev-
eral convolutions. It was of the same metal MS the 11 mies,
and on cat h side of the building it was open at both end-:.
The columns, six on each side, were simply plain shafts, with-
out capitals or pedestals, or any description of ornament ; nor
was any perceived in other parts of the edifice. It was open
on each side, and seemed to contain neither seats, altars, nor
offerings; but it was a light and airy structure, nearly a hun-
dred feet high from its white glistening floor to its glowing
roof, and it stood upon a round green eminence on the eastern
side of the valley. We afterwards, however, discovered two
others, which were in every respect fac-similes of this one ;
but in neither did we perceive any visitants besides flocks of
wild doves which alighted upon its lustrous pinnacles. Had
the devotees of these temples gone the way of all living, or
were the latter merely historical monuments? What did the
ingenious builders mean by the globe surrounded by flames?
Did they by this record any past calamity of fhnr world, or
predict any future one of ours? I by no means despair of ulti-
mately solving not only these but a thousand other questions
which present themselves respecting the objects in this planet ;
for not the millionth part of her surface has yet been explored,
and we have been more desirous of collecting the greatest pos-
sible number of new facts, than of indulging in speculative
theories, however seductive to the imagination.

"r.:it we had not far to seek for inhabitants of this " Yale of
the Triads." Immediately on the outer border of the wood
which surrounded, at the distance of half a mile, the eminence
on which the lir>t of these temples stood, we saw several de-
tached assemblies of beings whom we instantly recogni/.ed to
be of the same >.pecies as our winged friends of the Ruby
Colosseum near the Lake Langrenus. Having adjusted the
instrument for a minute examination, we found that nearly all
the individuals in these groups were of a larger stature than
the former specimens. less dark in color, and in every r< </»<-f an
improved variety of the race. They were chiefly engagi d in
eating a large yellow fruit like a gourd, sections of which they

312 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

divided with their fingers, and ate with rather uncouth vorac-
ity, throwing away the rind. A smaller red fruit, shaped like
a cucumber, which we had often seen pendant from trees hav-
ing a broad dark leaf, was also lying in heaps in the centre of
several of the festive groups ; but the only use they appeared
to make of it was sucking its juice, after rolling it between the
palms of their hands and nibbling off an end. They seemed
eminently happy, and even polite, for we saw, in many in-
stances, individuals sitting nearest these piles of fruit, select
the largest and brightest specimens, and throw them archwise
across the circle to some opposite friend or associate who had
extracted the nutriment from those scattered around him, and
which were frequently not a few. While thus engaged in their
rural banquets, or in social converse, they were always seated
with their knees flat upon the turf, and their feet brought
evenly together in the form of a triangle. And for some mys-
terious reason or other this figure seemed to be an especial
favorite among them ; for we found that every group or social
circle arranged itself in this shape before it dispersed, which
was generally done at the signal of an individual who stepped
into the centre and brought his hands over his head in an acute
angle. At this signal, each member of the company extended
his arms forward so as to form an acute horizontal angle with
the extremity of the fingers. But this was not the only proof
we had that they were creatures of order and subordination.

We had no opportunity of seeing them actually

engaged in any work of industry or art ; and so far as we
could judge, they spent their happy hours in collecting various
fruits in the woods, in eating, flying, bathing, and loitering

about upon the summits of precipices But although

evidently the highest order of animals in this rich valley, they
were not its only occupants. Most of the other animals which
we had discovered elsewhere, in very distant regions, were
collected here ; and also at least eight or nine new species of
quadrupeds. The most attractive of these was a tall, white
stag, with lofty, spreading antlers, black as ebony. We sev-
eral times saw this elegant creature trot up to the seated par-
ties of the semi-human beings I have described, and browse

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 313

the herbage close beside thorn, without the least manifestation
of fear on its part or notice on theirs. The universal state of
amity among all classes of lunar creatures, and the apparent
absence of every carnivorous or ferocious species, gave us the
most refined pleasure, and doubly endeared to us this lovely
nocturnal companion of our larger, but less favored, world.
Ever again when I "eye the blue vault and bless the useful
light," shall I recall the scenes of beauty, grandeur, and felic-
ity I have beheld upon her surface, not "as through a glass
darkly, but face to face ; " and never shall I think of that line
of our thrice noble poet,

" Meek Diana's crest

Sails through the azure air, au island of the blest,"

without exulting in my knowledge of its truth.'

" With the careful inspection of this instructive valley, and
a scientific classification of its animal, vegetable, and mineral
productions, the astronomers closed their labors for the night, —
labors rather mental than physical, and oppressive, from the
extreme excitement which they naturally induced. A singular
circumstance occurred the next day, which threw the telescope
quite out of use for nearly a week, by which time the moon
could be no longer observed that month. The great lens, which
was usually lowered during the day, and placed horizontally,
had, it is true, been lowered as usual, but had been inconsider-
ately left in a perpendicular position. Accordingly, shortly
after sunrise the next morning, Dr. Herschel and his as.-i-tants,
Dr. Grant and Messrs. Drummond and Home, who slept in a
bungalow erected a short distance from the observatory circle,
were awakened by the loud shouts of some Dutch i'aimers and
domesticated Hottentots (who were passing with their oxen to
agricultural labor), that the 'big house' was on fire! Dr.
Herschel leaped out of bed from his brief slumbers, and, sure
enough, saw his observatory enveloped in a cloud of smoke.

"Luckily it had been thickly covered, within and without,
•with a coat of IJoman plaster, or it would inevitably have been
destroyed with all its invaluable contents; but. as it \\
hole fifteen feet in circumference had been burnt completely

314 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK TRESS.

through the ' reflecting chamber,' which was attached to the
side of the observatory nearest the lens, through the canvas
field on which had been exhibited so many wonders that will
ever live in the history of mankind, and through the outer wall.
So fierce was the concentration of the solar rays through the
gigantic lens, that a clump of trees standing in a line with them
was get on fire, and the plaster of the observatoiy walls, all
round the orifice, was vitrified to blue glass. The lens being
almost immediately turned, and a brook of water being within
a few hundred yards, the fire was soon extinguished, but the
damage already done was not inconsiderable. The microscope
lenses had fortunately been removed for the purpose of being
cleaned, but several of the metallic reflectors were so fused as
to be rendered useless. Masons and carpenters were procured
from Cape Town with all possible despatch, and in about a week
the whole apparatus was again prepared for operation.

"The moon being now invisible Dr. Herschel directed his
inquiries to the primary planets of the system, and lirst to the
planet Saturn. We need not say that this remarkable globe
has for many ages been an object of the most ardent astronomi-
cal curiosity. The stupendous phenomenon of its double ring
having baffled the scrutiny and conjecture of many generations
of astronomers, was finally abandoned as inexplicable. It is
well known that this planet is stationed in the system nine
hundred millions of miles distant from the sun, and that having
the immense diameter of seventy-nine thousand miles, it is
more than nine hundred times larger than the earth. Its annual
motion round the sun is not accomplished in less than twent}--
nine and a half of our years, whilst its diurnal rotation upon its
axis is accomplished in lOh. 16m., or considerably less than
half a terrestrial day. It has not less than seven moons, the
sixth and the seventh of which were discovered by the elder
Herschel in 1789. It is thwarted by mysterious belts or bands
of a yellowish tinge, and is surrounded by a double ling — the
outer one of which is two hundred and four thousand miles in
diameter. The outside diameter of the inner ring is one hun-
dred and eighty-four thousand miles, and the breadth of the
outer one being seven thousand two hundred miles, the space

A HISTORY OF MlWsPAI'I U HOAXES. 315

between them is twenty-eight thousand miles. Tl.'- l>readtli of
the inner ring is mueh greater than that of the other, '
twenty thousand miles; and its distance from the body of
Saturn is more than thirty thousand. The>e rings are op.-Kjue,
but so thin that their edge has not until uo\v been discovered.
Sir John Iler.-rluTs most interesting discovery with regard to
this planet is the demonstrated fact that these two rings are
composed of the fragments of two destroyed worlds, formerly
belonging to our solar system, and which, on being exploded,
were gathered around the immense body of Saturn by the
attraction of gravity, and yet kept from falling to its surface
by the great centrifugal force created by its extraordinary
rapidity on its axis. The inner ring was therefore the first of
these destroyed worlds (the former station of which in the sys-
tem is demonstrated in the argument which we subjoin), which
was accordingly carried round by the rotary force, and spread
forth in the manner we see. The outer ring is another world
exploded in fragments, attracted by the law of gravity as in the
former ca-e, and kept from uniting with the inner ring by the
centrifugal force of the latter. But the latter, having a slower
rotation than the planet, has an inferior centrifugal force, and
accordingly the space between the outer and inner ring is
nearly ten times less than that between the inner ring and the
body of Saturn. Having ascertained the mean density of the
rings, as compared with the density of the planet, Sir John
Herschel has he, MI enabled to effect the following beautiful
demonstration. [Which Ave omit, as too mathematical for
popular comprehension. — Ed. Sint.~\

"Dr. Ilerschel clearly ascertained that these rings are com-

! of rocky strata, the skeletons of former globes, lying in a

state of \\ild and ghastly confusion, but not devoid of mountains

and seas The belts across the body of Saturn he has

discovered to be the smoke of a number of immense volcanoes,
carried in these straight lines by the extreme velocity of the

rotary motion [And these also he has ascertained

to be the belt of Jupiter. But the port ion of the work which is
devoted to this subject, and to the other planets, as also that
•which describes the astronomer's discoveries among the it

3 1C) HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

is comparatively uninteresting to general readers, however
highly it might interest others of scientific taste and mathemati-
cal acquirements. — Ed. Sun.~]

" It was not until the new moon of the month of
March, that the weather proved favorable to any continued
series of lunar observations ; and Dr. Ilerschel had been too
enthusiastically absorbed in demonstrating his brilliant dis-
coveries in the southern constellations, and in constructing
tables and catalogues of his new stars, to avail himself of the
few clear nights which intervened.

"On one of these, however, Mr. Drummond, myself, and
Mr. Holmes, made those discoveries near the Bay of Rainbows,
to which I have somewhere briefly alluded. The bay thus fan-
cifully denominated is a part of the northern boundary of the
first great ocean which I have lately described, and is marked
in the chart with the letter O. The tract of country which we
explored on this occasion is numbered 6, 5, 8, 7, in the cata-
logue, and the chief mountains to which these numbers are at-
tached are severally named Atlas, Hercules, Heraclides Verus,
and Ileraclides Falsus. Still farther to the north of these is
the island circle called Pythagoras, and numbered 1 ; aud yet
nearer the meridian line is the mountainous district marked R,
and called the Land of Drought, and Q, the Land of Hoar
Frost ; and certainly the name of the latter, however theoreti-
cally bestowed, was not altogether inapplicable, for the tops of
its very lofty mountains were evidently covered with snow,
though the valleys surrounding them were teeming with the
luxuriant fertility of midsummer. But the region which we
first particularly inspected was that of Ileraclides Falsus (Xo.
7), in which we found several new specimens of animals, all of
which were horned and of a white or gray color; and the re-
mains of three ancient triangular temples which had long been
in ruins. We thence traversed the country south-eastward*
until we arrived at Atlas (No. 6), and it was in one of the
noble valleys at the foot of this mountain that we found the
very superior species of the Yespertilio-homo. In stature they
did not exceed those last described, but they were of infinitely
greater personal beauty, and appeared in our eyes scarcely less

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPER HOAXES. 317

lovely than Iho general representations of angels by the more
imaginative schools of painters. Their social <•<•<) noniy scorned
to !>(' regulated by laws or con-monies exactly like those pre-
vailing in Iho Yale of the Triads, but their works of art wore
more numerous, -and displayed a proficiency of skill quite in-
credible to all except actual observers. I shall, therefore, let
the first detailed account of them appear in Dr. Ilerschel's au-
thenticated natural history of this planet.'

" [This concludes the Supplement, with the exception of
forty pages of illustrative and mathematical notes, which
would greatly enhance the size and price of this work, without
commonsurably adding to its general interest. — Ed. Sun.]"

This was the whole of the "Moon Hoax," which, in its day,
created much speculation and wonder.

THE ROORBACK.

TWENTY-FIVE years ago the word " Roorback " was a rallying
cry in a Presidential campaign. When it had served its pur-
pose, it passed into tradition, as a phrase which comparatively
few persons could absolutely define. This hoax came about in
a quiet way. In September, 1844, a small sheet, published in
the AVhig interest in the town of Ithaca, New York, and called
Tlie Chronicle, published the following note, with t)ic appended
spurious extract from a book of travels purporting to have been
written by an Englishman named Featherstouhaugh : —

" NOTE TO THE EDITOR OF THE ITHACA CHRONICLE.

"Mn. SPENCER: — Will you have the goodness to insert in your paper the
following extract from Roorback's 'Tour Through the Western ami Southern
in 1S3G'? This work has received the approbation of every American
critic, not only for its graphic descriptions of scenery, but for its candid and
impartial remarks on men and manners. Amidst the present turmoil and
fanaticism of politics, I would furnish a statement made long before the
contagion : . when there could be no inducement t;> disguise the

truth, or publish falsehood. Ax ABOLITION

"I \IK\rr 1KOM KKAT1IF.KSTOXH UV.Il'S 'TOUR.'

" Just as we reached the Duck Kivcr in the early gray of the morning, we
came up with a singular spectacle, the most striking one of the kind I have
ever wiine<M-d. It was a camp of negro slave-drivers. jn>t packing up to
start. They had about three hundred slaves with them, who had bivouacked
the preceding night in chains in the woods; these t conducting iuto

818

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK TRESS.

Natchez, on the Missisisippi River, to work upon the sugar plantations in
Louisiana. It resembled one of the coffles of slaves spoken of by Mungo
Park, except that they had a caravan of nine wagons and single-horse car-
riages for the purpose of conducting the white people, and any of the blacks
that should fall lame, to which they were now putting the horses to pursue
their march. The female slaves were some of them sitting on logs of wood,
whilst others were standing, and a great many little black children were
warming themselves by the fire of the bivouac. In front of them all, and
prepared for the march, stood in double files about two hundred male slaves,
manacled, and chained to each other. I had never seen so revolting a sight
before! Black men in fetters, torn from the lands where they were born,
from the ties they had formed, and from the comparatively easy condition
which agricultural labor affords, and driven by white men, with liberty and
equality in their mouths, to a distant and unhealthy country, to perish in the
sugar-mills of Louisiana, where the duration of life for a sugar-mill slave
does not exceed seven years. Forty-three of these unfortunate beings had
been purchased, I icas informed, of the Hon. J. K. Polk, the present Speaker of
the Ilouse of Representatives; the mark of the branding-iron, with the initials
of his name on their shoulders, distinguishing them from the rest."

The curious part of this forgery was the ingenuity with
which the actual words of the English traveller were used as a
setting. Part of the foregoing extract is a veritable copy of a
passage in a genuine book of travels, written by an English-
man named Featherstonhaugb , — but the words in italics are
all interpolated. Where the Roorback forgery reads "Duck
River," the genuine book says "New River;" and the con-
cluding passage is pure invention.

The Ithaca Chronicle's pretended extract was eagerly copied
into the Albany Evening Journal on Monday, September 16,
1844, and Thurlow "Weed made the most of its revelations as a
document for the campaign. First displaying the forgery in
large type, with obtrusive head-lines, the Evening Journal
added to it this allusion to the Opposition candidate for the
Presidency : —

" This same James K. Polk, whose manacled bondsmen were seen by the
Tourist in 1836, on their way to die in the sugar-mills of Louisiana, WITH

THE INITIALS OF HIS NAME,

V • K.B • • J

BURNT INTO THEIR FLESH, is now the Democratic candidate for the Presiden-
cy of the United States ! According to all accounts, he tn-ats the poor

A HISTORY OF NEWSPAPEIl HOAXES. 319

Africans whom he owns no better now than he did then, for we arc told
that he hires them out by the week, month, or year, as \vc at the North hire
out cattle to our neighbors, to labor for stipulated sums, which are paid to
him. If they are sent off from his plantation to different portions of Ten-
e, it is not at all unlikely that they carry the initials of their master's
name burnt with the branding-iron Into their shoulders, and are all marked
as shepherds mark their flocks. And these poor, branded slaves of James
K. Polk's, are HCMAX BEINGS! "

This was a bomb-shell in the Democratic camp. The Xew
York Evening Post, of September 23d (then a Democratic
paper) , denounced it as " an atrocious fraud ; " and the Albany
Argus took much pains to find a copy of the genuine " Tour
Through the Western and Southern States" (issued in 1834,
not 183G), and, by publishing the real and pretended pa-
in parallel columns, fully exposed the fraud. The Argus
added : " Mr. Featherstonhaugh makes no mention of Speaker
Polk, for the reason that when he wrote Governor Polk was
not Speaker." This was true. John Bell was Speaker of the
House in 1834.

The New York American, one of the Whig journals which
had copied the story, made a retraction after this exposure,
and wound up its apology with the emphatic statement that
the interpolation of the passage iii question was a "forgery
which would hardly be adequately punished by branding liar
and forger on the forehead of the scoundrel who perpetrated
it."

Polk was elected ; and the " Roorback hoax " passed into
history.

THE LINCOLN PROCLAMATION.

WALL Street has been responsible for numberless rascali-
ties, and still preserves its reputation for ingenious diabolism.
"Corners" arc made, brokers steal bonds, stocks arc
" watered," honed men cheated, and widows and orphans left
penniless, — all to put money into the pockets of shrewd specu-
lators, who are sometimes pillars of the Church, or founders of
religious institutions, and who

"Compound for sins they an- inclined to,
By damning those they have no mind to."

320 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

But nothing worse was ever done for purposes of speculation —
all the circumstances of the time being considered — than the
spurious Proclamation, purporting to have been issued by Pres-
ident Lincoln, which appeared in three morning papers in New
York on the 18th of May, 1864. It was published at a critical
period in the War, when foreign intervention was continually
feared, and when the government needed the cordial aid of
every loyal press and every loyal man. The papers which
gave it currency were the Journal of Commerce, the World
and the Herald. The Times and Tribune, with editors
shrewdly suspicious, refused to print it. Yet the manner in
which this hoax found its way into print lent it the color of
truth. It was furnished to all the morning papers in New
York at a late hour of the night, written upon the thin sheets
of oiled tissue-paper used in the office of the Associated
Press, and known to newspaper men as "manifold." It ap-
parently came through the regular channels, and the night-
editors of three newspapers, deceived by its air of genuine-
ness, accepted it without question, and published it.

In this spurious document, the President was made to say
these doleful words : —

" EXECUTIVE MANSION, >
" May 17, 1864. 5
" Felloio- Citizens of the United States: —

" In all seasons of exigency, it becomes a nation carefully to scrutinize its
line of conduct, humbly to approach the throne of grace, and meekly to im-
plore forgiveness, wisdom, and guidance.

" For reasons known only to Him, it has been decreed that this country
should be the scene of unparalleled outrage, and this nation the monumental
sufferer of the Nineteenth Century. With a heavy heart, but an umliminisheil con-
fidence in our cause, I approach the performance of a duty rendered imperative
by my sense of weakness before the Almighty, and of justice to thepco^li-.

"It is necessary that I should tell you that the first Virginia campaign,
Tinder Lieut. Gen. Grant, in whom I have every confidence, and whose
courage and fidelity the people do well to honor, is virtually closed. He has
conducted his great enterprise with discreet ability. He has crippled their
strength and defeated their plans.

" In view, however, of the situation in Virginia, the disaster at Red River, the
delay at Charleston, andthe general state of the country, I, Abraham Lincoln, do
hereby recommend that Thursday, the 26th day of May, A.D., 1864, be sol-
emnly set apart throughout these United States as a day of fasting, humilia-
tion, and prayer.

" Deeming furthermore that the present condition of public affairs presents

A HISTORY OF NEWS I' AIT.1: HOAXES. 321

an extraordinary occasion, and in view of the pending expiration of the ser-
vice of (100,000) one hundred thousand of our troops, I, Abraham Lincoln,
President of the United States, by virtue of the power vested in me by the
Constitution and the laws, have thought fit to call forth, and hereby do call
forth, the citizens of the United States, between the ages of (18) eighteen and
(45) forty-five years, to the aggregate number of (400,000) four hundred thou-
sand, in order to suppress the existing rebellious combinations, and to cause
the due execution of the laws.

"And, furthermore, in case any State, or number of States, shall fail to
furnish, by the fifteenth day of June next, their assigned quota, it is hereby
ordered that the same be raised by an immediate and peremptory draft.

•" The details for this object will be communicated to the State authorities
through the War Department.

" I appeal to all loyal citizens to favor, facilitate, and aid this effort to main-
tain the honor, the integrity, and the existence of the National Union, and the
perpetuity of popular government.

" In witness whereof, I have hereunto set my hand, and caused the seal of the
United States to be affixed. Done at the City of Washington this 17th
day of May, one thousand eight hundred and sixty- four, and of the indepen-
dence of the United States the eighty-eighth.
" By the President,

"ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
" WM. H. SEWARD, Secretary of State."

The fact was, that at the time this proclamation appeared,
Grant had driven the enemy in Virginia, and Sherman was
•raining ground in the south-west. Our armies had never been
in so good condition. The rebellion, as subsequent events
proved, was in reality in its death-throe; and although the
varyiug fortunes of war had brought us disaster as well as vic-
tory, the hope of an early subjugation of the foe had taken a
strong hold upon the loyal men of the North. This hope was
well founded ; for Lee surrendered to Grant eleven months
later, — in April, 1865.

The forgers chose their time with skill. The hoax was put out
on Tuesday night; Wednesday was steamer day. The Cunard
ship was departing tor her voyage, when she was overhauled
by a revenue-cutter, despatched by the Collector of the port,
and when she had airaiu got underway, she bore the antidote
to the poison, — a telegraphic message from Secretary Scward,
branding the document as a forgery. Two ingenious ne\\>;-
paper men,* who had done the work, were summarily caught

* Howard and Mallisnn. of the Brooklyn Eagle.

322 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

and immured in Fort Lafayette ; whence they emerged, a few
months later, wiser and sadder than when they went in.

The war produced several other hoaxes ; one of which was a
spurious Herald Extra, prematurely announcing the " Capture
of Mobile, with eight thousand prisoners, one hundred and
thirty cannon, and four hundred thousand bales of cotton ! "
and this made a brief sensation. False rumors of successes and
defeats were of daily occurrence ; but the Proclamation forgery
was the only deliberate and mischievous hoax, and the only one
which had more than an ephemeral existence.

In time of peace, newspaper hoaxes are of the mild type, —
inoffensive affairs, which please the fancy of the reader, or
justify the employment of capital letters in three-line head-
ings. Of this class are the stories of wild men puwling in the
woods, of sea-serpents disporting in the placid waters of re-
mote lakes, of marvellous discoveries of hidden treasures, or
of revelations of ancient relics, — all of which maybe taken
with grains of salt.

duLO-^ f?/\a^<jesi* tJfj

x-i

ttU. ^

of a L etter from Mr. Raymond

THE PRESS OF TO-DAY. 323

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE PRESS OF TO-DAY.

PAPERS PUBLISHED IN NEW YORK XT THE CLOSE OP 1869 — A CLASSIFIED LIST

PECULIARITIES OF DIFFERENT JOURNALS — THE DAILIES AND THE WEEKLIES

— WHAT WAS, IS, AND IS TO BE.

•

IN the preparation of these pages, the progress of Journal-
ism in New York has been traced, from its comparatively low
stale a generation ago, to and through the periods marked
by signal improvements in style and quality. It has been
shown that the disadvantages under which the newspapers
of 1840 were conducted did not preclude outbursts of enter-
prise ; that the younger journals of that day were in the habit
of startling the town with novel efforts ; that the gradual in-
crease of newspaper readers created a demand for a cheaper
Pros than that with which New York had been content for
the previous century; that this new phase of Journalism
\\iilened and grew stronger as the years advanced, and the
appetite of the public grew keener ; that the call for a fresher
and better quality of newspaper literature brought forth the
Times, — and that the success of the venture, in which Mr.
Hay UK uid and his friends embarked, was assured from the out-
set by a combination of circumstances, which are now fully
revealed. The career of Mr. Raymond, as an editor and a
politician, has been followed, step by step ; and the dilatory
venli.-t in which his old enemies did justice to his character
lia> been du!\ recorded. Some account of the inner life of
Journalism — the anecdotes, the humors, and the hoaxes, for
which it is noted — has also been given.

We now come to consider the lYes< of to-dav.

All the can-es operative in the earlier hi-tory of Journal-
ism in New York, which produced such radical ch;r

32-i IIEXIiY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

arc in existence now. The field for the display of skill, judg-
ment, and activity still grows wider, as cities expand, and
lines of intercommunication ramify, and civilization ad-
vances into regions which were yesterday tracts of uninhabited
wilderness. The public appetite, too, is becoming fastidious.
That which contented thousands, thirty years ago, would not
now please a score. That which was permissible, ten years ago,
is now regarded as wholly unsatisfactory. The older time,
when an editorial utterance in behalf of a party \vas accepted
as oracular by the members of that party, was long since
changed into the skeptical and questioning. The newspaper
is gradually ceasing to reflect individual opinion, and gradually
becoming more catholic in its general tone. The cost of pub-
lication has quadrupled since the first years of the Tribune and
the Herald; the expenditure in all departments of the daily
journals of New York this year is greater than that which
was considered extravagant in I860 ; the prices paid to the
professional journalist are now more accordant with the quality
of the work performed ; and the general scope of Journalism
is broader and grander than ever before.

Thirty years ago, the Chief Editor of a newspaper in New
York rarely employed more than two or three assistants.
Limited capital, small circulation, cheap advertising, all forbade
great outlay. Editors were reporters and editors alternately ;
and their emoluments were not commensurate with the labors
required of them. If the assistant, after hard application for
a week, received his pay promptly at its close, he counted him-
self fortunate. If the proprietors made a small profit at the end
of the year, that year was marked with a white stone in their
calendar. If the subscribers to a paper adhered to it, without
interruption, for a twelvemonth, the fact was taken as evidence
of the singular popularity of its conductors. Those days were
days of hardship, of doubt, and of small returns for literary
effort.

But the lapse of thirty years has changed every phase of
newspaper life. Each of the great daily papers of New York
to-day employs more than a hundred men, in different depart-
ments, and expends half a million of dollars annually, with less

THE TRESS OF TO-DAY. 325

concern to (lie proprietors than an outlay of one-quarter of that
sum would have occasioned in 1840. The editorial corps of the
morning papers issued in New York on the first day of the
present year numbered at least half a score of persons; the
reporters \\cre in e<|tial force; sixty printers and eight or ten
pressmen were employed to put in type and to print the con-
tents of each issue of the paper; twenty carriers conveyed the
printed sheet to its readers ; and a dozen mailing clerks and
book-keepers managed the business details of each establish-
ment. Editorial salaries now range from twenty-five dollars
to >i.\ty dollars a week; reporters receive from twenty dollars
to thirty dollars a week : and the gross receipts of a great daily
paper for a year often reach the sum of one million of dollars,
of which an average of one-third is clear profit. These
tistics are applicable to four or five of the daily morning
journals of New York. The evening papers, however, em-
ploying fewer persons, and incurring smaller expenses, than
their morning contemporaries, make a proportionate profit on
the business of a year.

The process of making a daily newspaper has'also undergone
a singular change within the space of thirty years. The minute
subdivision of labor into distinct departments has been a slow
growth ; but it is now reduced to a system -which produces
admirable results. The facilities of printing have been multi-
plied by the introduction of the rotary Hoe press, which is
capable of throwing off eighteen thousand sheets hourly. The
latest improvement in the processes of stereotyping enables,
the printer to reproduce the pages of a daily paper in duplicate,
with the labor of an hour.

In the orirani/ation of a daily newspaper in \ew York, the
Chief Editor controls all the details of the Editorial depart-
ment ; his decrees being final in all matters concerning the tone
of the Journal, the enirairement of assistants, and the prepara-
tion of the contents of each sheet. His partners are charged
with the a Hairs of business, and he meets them in consultation :
but in his own department he is supreme. Around this tiirure,
as on a pivot, revolve all the departments into which the edito-
rial force is divided. One assistant, placed in charge of the

326 ITEXRY J. RAYMOND AXD THE NEW YORK PRESS.

news, is known as the Night Editor. Another, to whom is
given the place and title of the City Editor, directs the work
performed by the reporters, whose duty is to gather all the
local intelligence of the day. A special department is devoted
to the news of the money market, and the assistant in charge is
the Financial Editor. Another gives his attention to the litera-
ture of the time, and is known as the Literary Editor. A
critic is assigned the duty of writing upon the drama and the
opera ; and the only persons who are not in charge of depart-
ments are the editorial writers, who are in direct daily commu-
nication with the Chief, receiving his suggestions and writing
articles upon topics indicated by hyn, or upon others of their
own selection, to which he gives his approval. Under this
system, which is now generally adopted, the different parts of
the daily paper are made harmonious, and the labor of each day
is performed, not only without friction, but in the most rapid
and satisfactory manner.

The methods of obtaining news have been simplified by the
organization of the Associated Press Agency, in New York.
The " General News Association of the City of New York "
was organized in October, 1856, by the joint efforts of the pro-
prietors of seven of the daily papers, namely, the Journal of
Commerce, Express, Herald, Sun, Tribune, Courier and En-
quirer, and Times. It was a final consolidation of the "Harbor
News Association," which had been in existence since January,
1849, with the subsequent Telegraphic and General News As-
sociations, established by different newspapers in the city ;
and all the property belonging to the pre-existing organiza-
tions was formally transferred. It was provided that all the
expenses incurred in collecting, preparing, and distributing
news should be borne in equal proportions by all the members
of the new Association, and that the responsible labor should
be assumed by a General Agent, whose salary should be paid
by equal assessments. Any member was to be permitted to
withdraw, by giving six months' notice ; but no member was to
sell his share in the property of the Association to any persons
except the other members, who bound themselves to purchase
such share, when offered, at two-thirds of its appraised value.

TTIE PRESS OF TO-DAY. 327

This organization has been in existence for more than thir-
teen years ; yet none of its original members have withdrawn.
Once or twice James Gordon Bennett has threatened to take
the Ji raid out; but he reconsidered his determination, and
that paper continues to receive the news through the regular
channel. The Herald, however, often incurs heavy expenses
for special telegraphic despatches, and, when the Atlantic Cable
went into operation, a large part of its earlier business was the
transmission of long messages to Bennett. This fact was
noted in the first official report of the Atlantic Telegraph Com-
pany. The other daily papers in New York receive thousands
of words over the land telegraphs in the course of a single
week, and these are exclusively for their own benefit. The
cost of such despatches is an addition to the regular weekly as-
sessment for what is technically called "Associated Press
news," — to which all the seven papers in the Association are
entitled.

The General Office of the Associated Press is in the building
on the north-west corner of Broadway and Liberty Street,
New York. The general agent, Mr. James TT. Simonton,
who succeeded D. II. Craig, has under his orders a large force
of assistants, to whom specific duties are assigned. Through
a complete system of agencies, all the news of the world is re-
ceived daily at the General Office, — by the Atlantic Cable, by the
Cuba ( 'able, by the lines of land telegraph, by ocean steamers,
and by ships which fly to and from the South American ports.
Agents are stationed in London and Liverpool, and in all the
principal cities and towns of the United States, — in Montreal,
Quebec, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, New Orleans, Wash-
ington, AHuiiy, and San Francisco, — and it is the duty of
these agents to send early and full accounts of all the leading
events of each day. Sometimes these messages are sent over
the telegraphic wires in cipher, and are translated by the key
held in the (ieneral Otlice in New York.

The news thus gathered from every quarter is prepared for
use hy a duplication of copies on oiled-silk paper, prepared
expressly for this purpose, and messengers convey the pack-
ages in envelopes, upon Avhich the name of each paper in the

328 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Association is printed. The news of New York, in like man-
ner, is prepared for transmission to other places by other agents,
to each of whom a special kind of work is given.

The evening papers in New York do not belong to the Asso-
ciation ; but are permitted to receive the same news which is
furnished to the morning papers, on the payment of a stipulated
sum. The average amount of this assessment is about eight
thousand dollars per year for each of the principal evening
papers in the city. The amount of revenue derived by the
General Association by such sales of news to the evening jour-
nals, and to papers outside -of New York, materially reduces
the yearly expenses of the original seven.

The Associated Press has often been denounced as a grasp-
ing monopoly, — and there is some truth in this assertion, —
but it is certain that its simplification of the methods of getting
news, and the perfect system with which it is managed, are
great helps to the newspaper press of New York, and of the
whole country. One or two rival Associations furnish news to
papers which are not admitted to the privileges of the older or-
ganizations ; but the heavy outlay required to establish a thor-
ough system of news-collecting, .together with the exclusion of
" outside " journals from telegraphic facilities, virtually invest
the Associated Press with supreme power.

But while each great printing establishment in New York
possesses an internal economy which is smooth in its operation,
and nearly perfect in result, the men themselves know little
of each other ; and in this respect the profession of Journal-
ism differs from all others. In medicine, members of societies
meet at stated times for comparisons of views and for general
discussion. In the ranks of the clergy, and among the mem-
bers of the Bar, there is a greater or less degree of affiliation.
But, unfortunately for the higher interests of Journalism, the
rivalries of business too often remain operative after the hours
of routine duty expire.

Frequent attempts have been made to organize Press Clubs
in New York, for the purpose of cultivating the social graces.
Nearly twenty years ago, one of these Associations, taking the
name of the "Press Club," held monthly sessions at the Astor

THE PRESS OF TO-DAY. 329

House; the members dining quietly together. It was com-
posed exclusively of newspaper proprietors, and its purpose
was accomplished in bringing together, at stated periods, and
in Irimdiy intercourse, the conductors of all the leading jour-
nals of the city. But this experiment faded away. It was fol-
lowed by a " Journalists' Club," composed of the subordinates
employed in different departments of the newspaper offices ;
but none of the members of this Club possessed the means to
continue the hire of rooms, or to meet .the contingent expenses
of the organization ; and, like its predecessor, the experiment
failed. No further tittempt was made for several years, and
the men of the Press in New York met as before, only at rare
intervals, and in the busier hours of the day, when no time
could 1)0 spared for the interchange of courtesies. A year or
two airo, however, a new effort was made to revive a pleasant
custom ; and, in order to give assurance of vitality, formalities
were laid aside, and no permanent organization was attempted.
It was agreed that all reputable persons* engaged in Journal-
ism should be invited to meet on the last Saturday of each
month, — excepting July, August, and September, — at a sim-
ple dinner. The price of the entertainment was limited to three
dollar- for each person, and every guest had the privilege of
inviting one friend. The presiding officer was to be chosen
from among the gentlemen present, and there was to be no
oilier form of organization than that of an Executive Commit-
tee, which was charged with the duty of ordering and paying
for the dinner. This programme was successfully carried out.
The dinners of the new Club — usually given at Delmonico's
— have been attended by large numbers of gentlemen from all
Hie principal newspapers in the city, and by distinguished
irue>U ; and out of this or^ani/ation grew the complimentary
banquet to Charles Dickens, of which mention has been made
in a previous ehapler of this volume. Moreover, the I're<s
men entertained the m<Miil>ers ot' " Sorosis," and the literary
sisters returned the compliment. "Sorosis" still exists, and,
like the Press Club, dines with Delmonico.

* In newspaper life, as in all other branches of business, there are "black

sheep," whom '^<^'\ in. MI <nuh.

330 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

The reporters of New York, about eighteen months ago,
organized a " Bohemian Club," taking this title for the purpose
of redeeming the name of Bohemian from the disrepute into
which it had fallen. This club has now forty or fifty members,
all actively engaged in reportorial duty for different newspa-
pers in the city. They dine together once a month ; the as-
sessment for expenses being one dollar each, with extra
charges for wine.

The day of a cheap daily press expired soon after the be-
ginning of the Civil War. The price of a morning paper had
been two cents for many years prior to 1861 ; but the sudden
rise in values immediately affected all the sources of supply.
Printing-paper rose to twenty-four cents a pound, — nearly
double its former price ; ink and type also went to higher fig-
ures ; higher wages were demanded by workmen ; salaries
were increased, and the price of a newspaper rose to four
cents, with an additional penny for the Sunday issues. Sev-
eral cheap papers have sprung up since the war, which are
sold for two cents each ; but for this sum it is impossible, in
the present condition of the market, that they should attempt
to vie with their older and richer contemporaries.

The whole number of newspapers now published in the city
of New York is upwards of one hundred and fifty. Of these,
twenty-four are issued daily, — thirteen in the morning and
eleven in the evening. The remainder are weekly papers ;
and of the whole number of these, eighteen are the organs of
religious sects. Of the daily papers, two are published in the
French language, and three in German. Of the weeklies,
eighteen are in German, one in Italian, and two in Spanish.
The whole list, classified, is as follows : —

DAILY PAPERS — MORNING.

Times — Raymond, Jones & Co.

Tribune — Tribune Association.

Herald — James Gordon Bennett.

Sun — Charles A. Dana.

World — Manton Marble.

Journal of Commerce — Hale, Hallock & Co.

Star — Joseph Howard, Jr.

11 IK 1'llESS OF TO-DAY. 331

Transcript. — Transcript Association.
Daily Bulletin — Bulletin Association.

DAILY PAPEKS — EVENING.

Evening Post —William C. Bryant & Co.
Commercial Advertiser — Hugh J. Hastings.
K\j •]•. --s James and Erastus Brooks.
Evening M:iil — James S. Johnston & Co.
Evening Commonwealth — George Mar8land.
Evening Telegram — James Gordon Bennett, Jr.
Press and Globe — Evening Press Association.
Daily News — Benjamin Wood.
Democrat — Mark M. Pomeroy.

FRENCH PAPERS — DAILY.

Courrier des Etats-Unis — Charles Lassalle.
Messager Franco- Americain — II. de Mareil.

GERMAN PAPERS — DAILY.

Abend Zcitung — F. Rauchfuss.
Demokrat — F. Schwedler.
Staats-Zeitnng — Oswald Ottendorfer.
New Yorker Journal — Evening paper.

WEEKLY PAPERS.

Advertisers' Gazette — George P. Rowell & Co.

Advocate and Family Guardian — American Female Guardian Society.

Albion — Kinahan Cornwallis.

American Artisan — Brown, Coombs & Co.

American Baptist — Baptist Free Mission Society.

American Journal of Mining — Western &Co.

American Lloyds — T. D. Taylor.

American Missionary — American Missionary Association.

American Colonist — John V. Quick.

American Railroad Journal — J. II. Schultz.*

Anti-Slavery Standard — American Anti-Slavery Society.

Applcton's Journal — D. Anpleton & Co.

Army and Navy Journal — W. C. and F. P. Church.

Atlas — An.-'Mi II. Trick's Sons.

Bank-Note and ( »i"mercial Reporter — D. Ilawes.

Bible Society Record — American Bible Society.

Billiard Cue — Phclan & Collendcr.

Boyd's Shipping Gazette — W. Hicks.

I>.'\-' and Girls' Weekly —Frank Leslie.

Child's Paper — American Tract Society.

Chimney Corner — Frank Leslie.

Christian Advocate — Carlton & Lanahan.

332 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Christian. Intelligencer— C. Van Wyck.

Church Journal — Houghton & Co.

Christian Union — J. B. Ford & Co.

Citizen and Round Table — Robert B. Roosevelt.

Commercial and Financial Chronicle — W. B. Dana & Co.

Cosmopolitan — R. McMurcly.

Counting House Monitor — E. W. Bullinger.

Cuban, The — Cuban Junta.

Pay's Doings — James Watts & Co.

Druggists' Price Current — I. C. Michels.

Dry Goods Price Current — P. R. Sabin.

El Cronista — J. Ferrer de Couto.

Emerald — McBride & Marrat.

Examiner and Chronicle — Edward Bright & Co.

Fireman's Journal — F. J. Miller.

Fireside Companion — G. Munroe.

Frank Leslie's Budget of Fun.

Frank Leslie's Illustrated Newspaper.

Frank Leslie's Illustrirte Zeitung.

Free Trader — John Sarell.

Freeman's Journal — J. A. McMaster.

Gas-Light Journal — M. L. Callender & Co.

Good Words — H. W. Adams.

Grocer's Journal — F. D. Longchamp.

Harper's Bazar — Harper & Brothers.

Harper's Weekly — Harper & Brothers.

Hebrew Leader — J. Boucli.

Health Reformer — R. T. Trail.

Hearth and Home — Pettengill, Bates & Co.

Hearthstone, The — J. H. & C. M. Goodsell.

Herald of Life — George Storrs.

Home Journal — Morris Phillips & Co.

Humphrey's Journal of Photography — J. H. Ladd.

Illustraclon Americana — Frank Leslie.

Independent — H. C. Bowen.

Industrial American — Edward Young's Son & Co.

Insurance Journal — T. and J. Slator.

Insurance Monitor — C. C. Hine.

Insurance Times — English & Wilmshurst.

Internal Revenue Record — W. C. & F. P. Church.

Irish American — Lynch, Cole & Meehan.

Irish Citizen — John Mitchel.

Iron Age — David Williams.

Jewish Messenger — S. M. Isaacs &Sons.

Jewish Times — M. Ellinger.

Jolly Joker.

Jones' U. S. Counterfeit Detector — J. W. Jones & Co.

Journal of Applied Chemistry — Dexter & Co.

Journal of the Telegraph — James D. Reid.

THE PRESS OF TO-DAY. 333

Katholische Kirchen Zeitung — Benziger Brothers.

L'Eco d'ltulia — G. F. Sccchi de Casali.

Liberal Christian — Unitarian Society.

Life Boat — American Seaman's Friend Society.

Literary Album — Street & Smith.

Merryman's Monthly — J. C. Hauey & Co.

Methodist— II. W. Douglas.

Metropolitan Record — John Mullaly.

Missionary Advocate — Carlton & Lanahao.

Monde IllustrC- — H. P. Sampers.

Moore's Rural New Yorker — D. D. T. Moore.

Musical Tioneer — F. J. Huntington & Co.

Musik Zeitung — Gutmann & Stein.

Nation — E. L. Godkin & Co.

National Police Gazette — George W. Matsell & Co.

National Temperance Advocate — J. N. Stearns.

New Jerusalem Messenger — New Jerusalem Church.

New World — Frank Leslie.

New York Clipper — F. Queen.

New York Courier — James L. Smith & Co.

New York Day Book — Vanevrie, Horton & Co.

New York Dispatch — Estate of A. J. Williamson.

New York Evangelist— Field & Craighead.

New York Leader — Leader Association.

New York Ledger — Robert Bonner.

New York Mercantile Journal — Mercantile Journal Company.

New York Underwriter — J. B. Ecclesine.

New York Weekly — Street & Smith.

New York Weekly Review — Theodore Hagen.

Observer — Sidney E. Morse, Jr., & Co.

Petroleum Recorder — John Hillyer.

Pluinny Phellow — Street & Smith.

Practical Painter — Willis, Macdonald & Co.

}'IYS;>\ terian — R. Carter & Brothers.

Produce Exchange Reporter — W. II. Trafton.

Producer's Price Current — B. Urner.

Protectionist — J. Herbert.

Protestant Churchman — Episcopalian.

Real Kstate Record— C. W. Sweet.

Revolution — Susan B. Anthony.

.title American — Munn & Co.
Scottish Ameriein Journal — A. M. Stewart.
Scotsman, Ameikan — John Stewart.
Seamen's Friend — S. If. Hall.

Sheldon's Dry Goods Price List — J. D. Sheldon & Co.
Shipping and Commercial List— Antens & Bourne.
Shoe and Leather Reporter — Dexter & Co.
Soldier's Friend — W. O. Bourne.
Spirit of the Times — George Wilkes.

334 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE XEW YORK PRESS.

Stockholder — S. P. Dinsraore & Co.
Sunday Mercury — Cauldwell & Whitney.
Sunday-School Advocate — Carlton £ Lanahan.
Sunday-School Journal — Carlton & Lanahan.
Sunday Times — E. G. Howard & Co.
Table-Talk — Wilson, Lockwood, Everett & Co.
Tablet — D. and J. Sadlier & Co.
Tobacco Leaf— C. Pflrshing.
Turf, Field and Farm — Bruce & Simpson.
United States Economist — Joseph Mackey.
United States Mining Journal — John Hillyer.
Watson's Art Journal — H. C. Watson.
Western World — Western World Co.
Working Farmer — William L. Allison.
[Besides eighteen weekly German papers.]

In addition to twenty-four daily papers, and nearly five times
that number of weekly issues, several magazines and other
monthly publications are also issued in New York. The dai-
lies gather up all that floats ; the weeklies, only that which
preserves its freshness from Saturday to Saturday ; the month-
lies, that which requires greater expenditure of thought and
time and labor. The oldest existing New York magazine is
Harper's, which has attained an immense circulation. The
Galaxy is lively and popular, and is steadily gaining. Put-
nam's, recently revived, is fortunate in its antecedent history.
Packard's is an experiment in a new field, and is prosperous.
Hours at Home, the American Agriculturist, the Phrenological
Journal, Onward, and Old and New meet the wants of dif-
ferent classes of readers. All live ; therefore they find nutri-
ment somewhere.

The writer is indebted to George P. Eowell & Co., adver-
tising agents in New York, for the subjoined list of news-
papers in foreign languages,* published in the United States in
the year 1869.

•From the "American Newspaper Directory."

TIIK IM:I:SS OF TO-DAY.

335

GERMAN.

CALIFORNIA.

San Francisco — California Demo-

krat .
San Francisco — Abend Post.

Staats

A LIST OK XKWsi'Ai-KRS AND PERIODICALS TRIM I I- WHOLLY OR IX TAUT IV

•mi: <,! I:\I\N, i KKNCH, SCANDINAVIAN, SPANISH, HOI.I.AMH-II, IIALIAN,
V\I:I.SM, AMI noiiiiMiAN LANGUAGES: —

Dubuque — Iowa Staats Zeitung.
Dubuque — National Dnnokrat.
Elkader — Der Nord Iowa Herald.
Keokuk — Telegraph.

KENTUCKY.

Louisville — Anzeiger.

Louisville — Volksblatt.

Louisville — Katholischer Glaubens-

bote.
Louisville — Omnibus.

LOUISIANA.

New Orleans — Deutsche Zeitung.

MARYLAND.

Baltimore — Deutsche Correspon-
dent.

Baltimore — Wecker.

Baltimore — Katholische Volks Zei-
tung.

MASSACHUSETTS.

Boston — Der Pioneer.

MICHIGAN.

Detroit — Michigan Journal.
Detroit — Faniilien Blatter.

MINNESOTA.

St. Paul — Minnesota Volksblatt.
St. Paul — Minnesota Staats Zeitung.

MISSOURI.
• — Post.

Das Westliche Volks-

COXXKCTICUT.

Xi-\v Haven — Beobachter.
Men Haven — Connecticut
Zeltopg.

DISTRICT OF COLUMBIA.

Washington — Columbia.

ILLINOIS.

Alton — Banner.

Belleville — Stern dcs Westens.

Belleville — Zcit ling.

Chester — Randolph Co. Zeitung.

Chicago — Abend Zeitung.

Chicago — Illinois Staats Zeitung.

Chicago — Union.

Chicago — Die Laterne.

Freeport — Ueutschcr Anzeiger.

Highland — Bote and Schutzen Zei-

tung.

Highland — Union.
SpringiK'ld— Illinois Staats Deino-

krat.

I Mil ANA.

Evansville — Democrat.
Kvansvillc — Union.
Fort Wayne — Indiana Staats Zei-
tung.

Hunt iiigliurg — Signal.
Indianapolis— Telegraph.
Indianapolis — Future.
Indianapolis — India na Volksblatt.
Indianapolis — SpottNd^.-l.
I i 1 1:1 Union.

Tell City — An/. 'i-.-r.
Torre Haute — Buerger Zeitung.

IOWA.

Burlington — Iowa. Tribune.
Clinton— Iowa Volks Zi-itimg.
Davenport— I>er iK-mokrat.

Kansas City

St. Joseph
blatt.

St. Louis — Never Auzeiger des Wes-
tens.

St. Louis — '

St. Louis —

Volkszeitung.
Wcstliche Post.
Mississippi Blatter.
Herold des Glaubens.
Neue Welt.

NEBRASKA.

Arago — Westlicher Pionler.
Nebraska City — Nebraska Xeitung.

xr.w .iri:-i v.
1 :•-::,' Harbor— Der Xei moist.

336

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

Elizabeth — New Jersey Landbote.
Hoboken — Hudson Co. Journal.
Hobokeu — Hudson Co. Volksblatt.
Newark — New Jersey Freie Zeitung.
Newark — New Jersey Volksman.
Newark — Der Erzacbler.
Trenton — New Jersey Staats Jour-
nal.

NEW YORK.

Buffalo — Aui'ora.

Buffalo — Demokrat.

Buffalo — Telegraph.

New York —Abend Zeitung.

New York — Demokrat.

New York — Journal.

New York — Staats Zeitung.

New York — Amerikanische Post.

New York — Atlantische Blatter.

New York — Belletristisches Journal.

New York — Beobachter am Hudson.

New York — Die Welt.

New York — Frank Leslie's Illustrate
Zeitung.

New York — Handel's Zeitung.

New York — Kutholische Kirchen
Zeitung.

New York — Museum.

New York — Musik Zeitung.

New York — Nachrichten aus Deutch-
land und der Schweiz.

New York — Schule des Volks.

New York — Amerikauische Agricul-
turist.

New York — Amerikanische Bier-
braur.

New York — Der Lutherische Herold.

New York— Farmers' Zeitung.

New York — Gerhard's Gartenlaube.

New York — Amerikanischer Bots-
chafter.

Rochester — Beobachter.

Syracuse — Central Demokrat.

NORTH CAROLINA.

Goldsboro — Die North Carolina
Staats Zeitung.

OHIO.

Canton — Deutsche in Ohio.
Cincinnati — Volksblatt.
Cincinnati — Volksfreund.

Cincinnati — Christliche Apologete.
Cincinnati — Die Deborah.
Cincinnati — Der Sendbote.
Cleveland — Wachter am Erie.
Cleveland — Christliche Botschafter.
Cleveland — Christliche Kinder-

freund.

Columbus — Der Odd Fellow.
Dayton — Volkszeituug.
Marietta — Zeitung.
Portsmouth — Correspondent.
Sandusky — Herold.
Sandusky — Bay Stadt Demokrat.
Toledo — Deutche Zeitung.

OREGON.

Portland — Oregon Deutsche Zei-
tung.

PENNSYLVANIA.

Allentown — Stadt and Land-Bote.

Allentown — Friedensbote.

Allentown — Lutherische Zeitschrist.

Allentown — Jugend Freuud.

Allentown — Kirchen und Missions
Berichte.

Allentown — Sonntagsschul-Lehrer
und Eltein Freund.

Allentown — Theologische Monats-
chefte.

Bethlehem — Der Brueder Botschaf-
ter.

Boyertown — Demokrat.

Doylestown — Der Morgeustern.

Doylestown — Express and Reform.

Easton — Correspondent and Demo-
krat.

Erie — Freie Press.

Erie — Leuchtthurm.

Erie — Zuschaeur am Eriesee.

Hamburg — Hamburger Schnellpost.

Harrisburg — Peuusy Ivanische Staats
Zeitung.

Harrisburg — Vaterlands Wachter.

Lancaster — Volksfreund und Beo-
bachter.

Lansdale — Montgomery Co. Presse.

Lebanon — Wahrer Demokrat.

Lebanon — Der Froehliche Botschaf-
ter.

Lebanon — Pennsylvauier.

Tin: ri:i:ss OF TO-DAY.

337

Mauch Chunk — Leclia Thai Beo-
bacbter.

Middleburg — Volksfreund.

Mill'ord Square — Reformer and Pa.

Advertiser.
Mill'ord Square — Meunonitische

Friedensbote.
Norristown — Montgomery Co. Dera-

ocratische Post.

Norristown — "Wahrheits Freund.
IVnusburg — Bauern Freund.
Philadelphia — Abend Post.
Philadelphia — Demokrat.
Philadelphia — Vereinigte Staaten

Zeitung.

Philadelphia — Freie Presse.
Philadelphia — Neue Welt.
Philadelphia — Rcformirtc Kirchen-

zeitung.
Philadelphia— Die Republikanische

Plagge.
Philadelphia — Sonntag's Blatt und

ilien Journal.

Philadelphia — Der Lammerherte.
Pittsburgh — Freiheits Freund.
Pittsburgh — Republikaner.
Pottsville — Amerikanischer Repub-
likaner.

Pottsville — Jefferson Demokrat.
ling— Adler.
iing — Banner of Berks.
'HIT — Republikam-r von Berks.
Heading — Der Reformirte Haus-

IVeuiid.

Scranton — Wochcnblatt.
Rkippackville — Der Neutralist and

Alle.^e.UK-ine Neui >te.

Sunbury — Der Dentx-he Demokrat.
Wilke>l>:inx— Demokrat iseher \Vach-

ter.

Williamsport — National Demokrat.
York — i;a/-ette.

SOUTH CAROLINA.

Charleston — Zeini:

Memphis — An/eiger des Sudens.
Nashville — Tennessee Staats Zei-

tang.

Nashville — Demokrat.
22

TKXAS.

Galveston — Union.

New Braunfels — New Braunfelser

Zeitung.
San Antonio — Texas Free Press.

WEST VIRGINIA.

Wheeling — West Virginia Courier.

WISCONSIN.

Fond du Lac — Reform.

Fond du Lac — Zeitung.

Fountain City — Buffalo Co. Republi-
kaner.

La Crosse — Nord Stern.

Manitowoc — Nord Western.

Mauitowoc — Zeitung.

Milwaukee — Banner and Volks-
freund.

Milwaukee — Herold.

Milwaukee — See-Bote.

Sheboygan — National Demokrat.

Watertown — Weltbuergcr.

West Bend — Washington Co. Ban-
ner.

ONTARIO, D. C.

Neustadt — Der Wachter am Sau-

geeii.
New Hamburg — Canada, Staats

Zeitung.
New Hamburg — Canadisches Volks-

blatt.

Stratford — Canadischer Colonist.
Waterloo — Deutcher Canadier.

FRENCH.

CALIFORNIA.

San Francisco — Le National.

ILLINOIS.
Kankakec — Courrier de 1'Ouest.

LOVISIANA.

Abbeville — Meridional.
Donaldsonville — Drapeau L'Ascen-

siou.
Edgar — Meschacebe and L'Avant

Courier.

GcntSlly — Lonisianais.
New Orleans — Bee.
New Orleans — L'Epogne.

338

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

New Orleans — La Renaissance Lou-
isianaise.

New Orleans — Propagateur Catholic.

Opelousas — Courier.

Opelousas — Journal.

Opelousas — St. Landry Progress.

Plaquemine — Iberville South.

St. Martinsville — Courier of the
Teche.

Vermillionville — Lafayette Adver-
tiser.

NEW YORK.

Buffalo — L'Phare des Lacs.

Champlain — Le Charivari.

New York — Courier des Etats Unis.

New York — Le Messager Franco
American.

New York — Le Nouveau Monde.

NEW BRUNSWICK, D. C.

Shediac — Le Moniteur Acadian.

QUEBEC, D. C.

Beauharnois — Le Courier de Beau-
harnois.

Montreal — La Minerve.

Montreal — Le Nouveau Monde.

Montreal — Le Pays.

Montreal — L'Ordre.

Montreal — La Lanterne.

Montreal — La Guepe.

Montreal — La Revue Canadienne.

Montreal — L'Echo de la France.

Montreal — L'Echo du Cabinet de
Lecture Paroissial.

Montreal — Revue Agricole.

Quebec — L'Evenement.

Quebec — Le Journal de Quebec.

Quebec — Le Canadian.

Quebec — Le Courrier du Canada.

Quebec — Le Charivari Canadian.

Quebec — Journal de L'Instruction
Publique.

St. Hyacinthe — Journal.

St. Hyacinthe — Gazette de St. Hya-
cinthe.

Sorel — La Gazette de Sorel.

SCAND2NA VIAN.

ILLINOIS.

Chicago — Hemlaudet.

Chicago — Sanclebudet.
Chicago — Skandinaven.
Chicago — Svenska Amerikanaren.
Galva — Illinois Swede.

IOWA.

Decorah — Ved Arnen.
Decorah — Kerkelig Maanedstidende.

MINNESOTA.

Minneapolis — Nordisk Folkeblad.
Red Wing — Svenska Minnesota Bla-
det.

NEW YORK.

New York — Skandenavisk Post.

WISCONSIN.

La Crosse — Faedrelandet og Erai-
granten.

SPANISH.

CALIFORNIA.

San Francisco — La Voz de Chile y
El Neuvo Monde.

LOUISIANA.

New Orleans — El Imparcial.
New Orleans — Las Dos Republicais.

NEW YORK.

New York — El Cronista.
New York — Illustracion Americana.
New York — El Correo Hispano
Americano.

DUTCH.

IOWA.

Pella — Gazette.
Pella — Weekblad.

MICHIGAN.

Grand Rapids — Vrijheids Banier.
Holland — De Hollander.
Holland — De Hope.

ITALIAN.

CALIFOR1STA.

San Francisco — La Voce del Popolo.
San Francisco — L'Eco della Patria.

NEW YORK.
New York — L'Eco d'ltalia.

THE PRESS OF TO-DAY. 339

WELSH. BOHEMIAN.

NKW YORK. MISSOURI.

Utica — Y'Drych. St. Louis — Narodni Noviny.

Utica — Y'Cyfaill.

In this list appear the names of more than two hundred news-
papers published for the exclusive benefit of the Germans,
Scandinavians, Frenchmen, Italians, Bohemians, and Dutchmen
who have emigrated to the United States to find permanent
homes. It is an important incident in the life of this large
foreign element of our population that a free press is essential
to their happiness. It is a luxury they never enjoyed until
they had become American citizens.

Readers who have not carefully followed the course of
American Journalism might find difficulty in accounting for the
existence of one hundred and fifty newspapers in a single city.
Indeed, the mere fact of existence is all that can be placed to the
credit of some dozens of the sheets which regularly appear from
the presses of New York ; for they have limited circulations, few
advertisements, and no influence beyond a small circle of sup-
porters. It has already been shown in these pages * that most
of the public journals now in existence in Xcw York are com-
paratively young; and, unless imperative conditions are ob-
served, the lease of life accorded to some of them must be
brief. The taste of the reading public, yearly educated by a
higher standard, demands continued enterprise, steady common
sense, and increased dignity in the conduct of the American
newspaper; and although the "flash" journal is likely to
achieve temporary success among the classes who digest coarse
food, and the heavy journal to find custom in the small corner
of society which lives in the past, both the vulgar and the dull
are fated to death and oblivion. Before the end of the present
year, the names of some of the journals comprised in the fore-
going catalogue will probably have disappeared. Their plaees
will be supplied by something better.

The world has not got on without a struggle. Everything
in nature struggles, — the plant to peep out of the ground,

* Chapters v. and vi.

340 HEXRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

opinions to make a way, newspapers to exist. The London
Times, confessedly the greatest and the most profitable news-
paper in the world, was once as stupid as any journal that
died years ago in New York or Boston ; although there had
been ten centuries of European development to aid it at the
start. Yet it was skilfully drawn out of all the perilous
places, and it has become what it is, because its conductors
made it, first, a grand newspaper, considered simply in the
light of a news-gatherer, and next, a reflex of the opinion of
its time. Moreover, it has preserved a strict impersonality ;
and in this element alone it possesses a degree of strength
which has never yet been attained by any American news-
paper.

In the United States, it is too often true, that a newspaper is
established so completely in the interest of a party or a clique,
that, while the strength of clique or party is sufficient to in-
sure it a legitimate support through the regular channels of
subscription and advertising, the editorial columns are never
free from partisan bias ; and the editor, though not reduced to
the necessity of direct and abject begging, is in reality in
worse condition than he who goes humbly, hat in hand, to ask
for crumbs. In fact, much of the Political Journalism of our
day is open to the charges of prejudice and illiberality. Com-
paratively few editors of leading American journals display
the power of taking a judicial view of great public questions ;
apparently preferring partisan arguments rather than compre-
hensive views. Hence, the impartial reader, who is not
wedded to conceits and whims, but, believing there are honest
men in all parties, desires to sift all questions in dispute, is
compelled to strike his own balance between conflicting state-
ments. On the eve of an election, a citizen, wishing to vote a
"scratched" ticket, putting the name of Hans Breitmann,
Republican German, in place of that of Timothy Finnegan,
Democratic Irishman, unfit for office, finds his Democratic
journal loud in adulation of Timothy Finnegan, and denuncia-
tory of Hans, because the former is the " regular " candidate
of the "regular" convention, nominated through the agency
of the " regular " primaries ; and it would be treason to " the

THE I'KESS OF TO-DAY. 341

parh •" to speak one word against Timothy, even though he
\\cre publicly known as the greatest scapegrace unhanged.
Xor is (his practice confined to the Democratic press; for, un-
happily, the Political Journalism in a41 our great cities is shaped
in the interest of what is, rather than of that which should be;
and so long as independent criticism is quenched by party
drill, so long must tax-payers groan, and thieves in office
steal.

One class of journals has wholly died out in New York. In
the course of a dozen years, many attempts to establish a comic
paper have been made, and have failed. Like Jonah's gourd,
they have "had a rapid and unhealthy growth, only to wither in
untimely death. In England, this style of journal pos»
vitality. Punch, established in London thirty years ago, still
prints its cuts in cartoon and type, — not, perhaps, with all its
former vigor ; and London also has Judy, Fun, the Tomahawk,
the Witt o' the Wisp, and Vanity Fair. Charivari pleases the
wits of France with epigram and illustration ; and -Kladdera-
datsch stirs the German blood by such saucy words as the censor
permits. But in New York there are only left to us the memo-
ries of the departed fun of Yankee Doodle and the Lantern and
Momus and Mrs. Grundy and John Donkey and Vanity Fair.
Thus far, the genuine witty paper has not taken root in Ameri-
can soil. Only the fungi live, and they should die. In its best
days, \\inify Fair was a crackling, witty, representative jour-
nal, fairly illustrating American life and manners ; but it finally
went the way of all the others.

John Brougham started one of the comic papers in New
York, — the Lantern, — and a funny story is told of him and it.
Hurt on, the actor, was no friend to Brougham in those days,
and no love was lost on either side. The story runs to the
clled that Brougham, on entering a rcMaurant, found Burton
and a companion sitting at a table. Burton replied to thcijues-
tioii, "Have you read the L<(n!> r,i this week?" by saying, "No!
I never read the thing, unless I'm drunk — unless I'm drunk —
(repeating in a louder tone) unless I'm drunk !" Brougham
immediately rose from the table at which he was sitting, ad-
vanced, hat in hand, towards Burton, and, making a bow in his

342 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

grandest manner, observed, "Then, Mr. Burton, I ani sure of
one constant reader ! " Burton made no reply.

Mention lias been made of the specialties to which many of
the newspapers of New York are devoted. This feature is not
peculiar to the United States ; for in England the establishment
of "organs " is a habit. Yet the custom, copied from an older
country, is here carried to an extreme. Inspired by a feel-
ing that no calling is secure, no party organized, no sect vital-
ized, no reform worthily urged, unless each is represented in
type, the American people impress the printer into all the ranks,
conditions, and occupations of life. Trade, finance, commerce,
religion, spiritualism, the rights of women; politics, literature,
art, science ; fashion, frivolity and vulgarity ; the Eing, the
Turf, the Brothel, — all have their representatives in the
American Press.

There are but three or four so-called " religious " papers in
the United States which do not exclusively represent a sect or
espouse a dogma. Probably the bitterest controversies, the
most unrelenting hostility, the worst antagonisms, are those
peculiar to this class of public journals. Political editors quar-
rel, and recover ; satirists ridicule each other, and, like lawyers
after argument in a cause, meet on terms of perfect fellowship
when the labor of the day is done ; rival artists send their
sketches to their respective papers, and then adjourn amicably
to some convenient restaurant ; but the conductor of the
Predestinarian constantly abuses his colleague who edits the
Roman Catholic sheet, and the Baptist will have none of the
Churchman' 's Episcopalianism. Some of the strongest quality
of personal abuse — the phrase is not too severe — which finds
its way into print is written for the denominational press that
loudly professes to accept the obligations of meekness and
Christian charity.

The New York Independent, however, is singular among the
newspapers which claim to represent the religious element. It
is professedly Congrcgationalist in conviction, but its name
indicates its real character. Independent in all things, it does
not hesitate to differ with the devout in its own church, nor to
rebuke the shortcomings of those whose support it seeks.

THE PRESS OF TO-DAY. 343

The twenty-first anniversary of its birth was celebrated,
with unusual typographic display and pictorial pomp, in
December, 1809 ; and an historical sketch from the pen of its
editor gave some interesting information. The paper was
established to promote two ideas, — one religious, the other
political ; one the Congregational as against the Presbyterian
church polity, the other the freedom of the slave against the
tyranny of his master. Its original proprietors were five lay-
men : Henry C. Bowen, Theodore McXamee, Simeon B. Chit-
tendon, Seth B. Hunt, and Jonathan Hunt. Its original edi-
tors were three Congregational clergymen : Rev. Dr. Leonard
Bacon, Rev. Richard S. Storrs, Jr., and Rev. Joseph P.
Thompson. At the end of thirteen years, — hi December,
1861, — this triumvirate of divines retired, leaving the vacancy
to be filled by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. " B}' natural gravita-
tion," observes Mr. Tilton, from whose sketch we draw these
particulars, "the paper became, under Mr. Beecher's leader-
ship, almost as much a sympathetic co-worker with Presbyte-
rians as it had formerly been their polemic antagonist. But
Mr. Beecher did not wholly escape that same theological suspi-
cion which from the beginning had been inadvertently drawn
like a mild fog about the establishment. It is just to him,
however, to say that through this thin haze he was always
plainly visible as a 'burning and shining light.' On the first
of January, 1863, the negroes were emancipated from their
bondage, and Mr. Beecher was emancipated from his editor-
ship." He was succeeded by Theodore Tilton, who is still at
the head of the paper, assisted by Rev. Joshua Leavitt, Oliver
Johnson, and others.

The Observer, an old paper, established in the interest of the
Old-School branch of the Presbyterian denomination, is edited
by Rev. S. IiviKc-us Prime, who is assisted by his brother,
Rev. E. D. G. Prime, and other scholarly writers. The Ob-
tertrer is prosperous and influential; and since the reunion of
the Old and New Schools it has ceased to be the or<ran of the

* Mr. Bccchcr lias since resumed editorial service, as the editor of the
Christian 1'iiioii.

344 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

former as against the latter. Its principal conductor is a gen-
tleman of broad culture and long experience in religious jour-
nalism. But he is not apt to look with favor upon anything
which possesses the faintest savor of Radicalism.

The Evangelist, conducted by Rev. Henry M. Field, was
formerly the representative of the New-School Presbyterian
Church ; but, like the Observer, it has buried the hatchet of
polemical controversy, and is now devoted in nearly equal
measure to discussions of religious questions and to summaries
of secular intelligence.

The Methodist denomination has two principal organs, —
the Christian Advocate, and the Methodist, — both of which are
published in New York, and are read by large numbers of be-
lievers in that faith in all parts of the United States.

The Examiner and Chronicle, conducted by Rev. Edward
Bright, is a capable representative of the Baptist body.

The Jews have their own organs, Orthodox and Reforma-
tory. The Irish possess presses, — one edited by John Mitchel,
— which clamor loudly for the independence of Ireland, and
in support of Fenianism ; but which are rarely seen or read
save by citizens of Irish birth or Irish descent. The Roman
Catholics have four or five organs. The Spaniards in New
York give support to one weekly paper ; the Italians to one, —
IJEco $ Italia. The large French and German population of
New York calls for two daily journals for the former, and three
for the latter. The Clipper and Wilkes' /Spirit of the Times,
published weekly, represent the "sporting" clement, — the last-
named aiming at a higher standard than that usually accorded
to papers of this stamp. Woman's- rights (so-called) and -the
<fSorosis" Club enlist the services of a little weekly paper
called The Revolution, which is conducted by Susan B.
Anthony and Mrs. Elizabeth Cady Stanton, and is engaged in
an energetic effort to transform women into men, with results
limited by the laws of nature. The druggists have a Circular,
printed for their own use ; the merchants, a Dry Goods Re-
porter; the brokers, a variety of papers devoted exclusively to
reports of the money market and the Stock Exchange ; the
grocers, a Grocers' Journal; billiard-players, a Billiard Cue;

THE PRESS OF TO-DAY. 345

dealers in tobacco, a Tobacco Leaf. And thus, through a long
list of specialties, there are journals living or dying daily.
Once, the Latter-Day Saints were represented l>y '/'//'' J/'//-
. hut that sheet long since expired, and, although the
Mormons are still numerous in New York and JJrooklyn, and
a Mormon Church has regular services in Williainsbiirgh, the
purse of the Saints is not reopened to equip another newspaper

oiliee.

At the head of the Literary Journals now published in New
York stands The Nation, — a weekly sheet, conducted with
care and judgment by E. L. Godkin, assisted by W. P. Garri-
son, a son of William Lloyd Garrison. The Nation is scholarly
and temperate, its judgment is generally good, and its success
is deserved.

The Round Table, long edited with ability by Henry
Sedley (now engaged in the office of the T'imes), has been
merged into the Citizen. Under the composite title of The
Citizen and Round Table, it is now edited and published by
Kobert P>. Koosevelt, combining some of the literary features
of the Round Table with the political character of the d1'
as the- latter existed under the management of the late Charles
G. Ilalpine, better known as "Private Miles O'Reilly."

The Sunday papers — so-called — form a distinct cl
They are four in number : the Sunday Dispatch, Sunday 7
Sunday Mrrcu.ry, and Courier. All find readers ; and the
.'trh and Mfinn-i/ have created ample fortunes for their
owners. Three of the leading morning papers also appear on
Sunday morning; but in a city so large and so irreverent as
New York, there is sufficient custom for the Sunday issues of
the IJi-raf'/. the H "urld, and the Times, as well as for the four
journals which appear only hebdomadally, and are distinctively
known as "Sunday papers." At least one-half the entire popu-
lation of the riiy occupies the early hours of the tir-t day in the
week in the- eager perusd of literature prepared especially for
Sunday.

The Illustrated Papers in New York arc Ifarpn's JlW.Ty,
Iltr/trr* Bazar, Jnftleton's Jmirnaf, /-'rank Ledli, X and the
Chimney Corner. All these obtain largo circulations, hut the

346 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

illustrations are of varying degrees of excellence. The pencil
of Thomas Nast, our best caricaturist, is monopolized by the
Plarpers, and he often excels other artists in his comical and
effective illustrations of passing events. AppletoiUs Journal
is becoming noted for its pictorial effects in the higher walks
of art.

Robert Bonner's Ledger furnishes a remarkable illustration of
the results of judicious advertising.* Through lavish expendi-
ture of money, Mr. Bonner has persuaded a quarter of a million
of readers to subscribe to the Ledger. It must be added, to
his credit, that in securing valuable contributions from Bcecher,
Everett, Bryant, Saxe, Parton, and a host of the best American
poets, essayists, and divines, he has given the readers of the
Ledger an ample return for the price of a yearly subscription.

* A humorous picture of the effects of advertising appeared in the
Richmond Enquirer of December 20, 1869 : —

"The first time that a man looks at an advertisement he does not see it.

" The second time, he does not notice it.

" The third time, he is dimly conscious of it.

" The fourth time, he faintly remembers having seen something of the
kind before.

" The fifth time, be half reads it.

" The sixth time, he turns up his nose at it.

" The seventh time, he reads it all through, and says ' Pshaw ! '

" The eighth time, he ejaculates, ' Here's that confounded thing again! '

" The ninth time, he wonders if there is anything in it.

" The tenth time, he thinks it might possibly suit somebody else's case.

" The eleventh time, he thinks he will ask his neighbor if he has tried it or
knows anything about it.

" The twelfth time, he rather wonders how the advertiser can make it pay.

" The thirteenth time, he rather thinks it must be a good thing.

"The fourteenth time, he happens to think it is just what he has wanted
for a long time.

" The fifteenth time, he resolves to try it as soon as he can afford it.

"The sixteenth time, he examines the address carefully, and makes a
memorandum of it.

" The seventeenth time, he feels tantalized to think he is hardly able to
afford it.

" The eighteenth time, he sees painfully how much he needs that par-
ticularly excellent article.

" The nineteenth time, he counts his money to see how much he would
have left if he bought it, and

"The twentieth time, he frantically rushes out in a fit of desperation, and
buys."

THE I'UESS OF TO-DAY. 347

Tin- Home Journal is the sole representative in New York of
a class of papers which multiply more rapidly abroad than
here: namely, the " fashionable " journal. The word in this
connection means the gossip of the drawing-rooms and of
society generally, the lighter branches of the literature of the
day, and the story of engagements, marriages, public and pri-
vate balls, and all'airs of like character. The names and literary
reputations of George P. Morris and N. P. Willis gave this
paper its start. It is now edited by Morris Phillips, who long
enjoyed the confidence of Mr. AVillis.

A feeble attempt was made, a few months ago, to establish
a paper in New York in opposition to the Republican idea of
government. The title given to this experimental and exceed-
ingly absurd sheet was The Imperialist. Its days were
few and full of trouble ; and readers who gave it a casual
glance professed their inability to understand whether it was
an earnest piece of idiocy, or a lamentable attempt at waggery.
But it is dead, and it requires no further mention.

-Returning to the consideration of the Daily Press of New
York, a phenomenon appears.

"Why the Evening Papers in New York should have
multiplied to such an alarming extent in the past three
or four years, is a mystery which no writer upon the subject
of Journalism can hope to explain. The youngest of these
>heets * died suddenly at the end of I860; yet nine survive.
The price* at which these nine are sold range from one cent
to live cents each. The oldest is the Commercial Ad >•<>,-•
which has been in existence ,-ince 1794. The next in a ire i- the

'n-j /W, established in 1801. The third in order is the
AV///VNN. tir-t i->ued as a morning paper, but changed into an
evening sheet several year- ago. Then were born the Evening
Mull, the .V"//-.<, the (.'m, nun, urolith, the Telef/rciii/, i\wl)f,nncrat,
and the /' <;inl,c. Some of these have gained a daily circu-

lation often thousand copies; others, seven to eight thousand;
others, a few hundreds only. No one of them can ever reach
the circulation which is regarded as essential to the existence

* The Republic.

348 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

of a morning paper ; for the latter is never accounted a suc-
cess until it is delivered daily to at least twenty thousand
readers ; but the advertising patronage of the business houses
in the city is fairly apportioned among all, in great part
through the skilful manipulation of Advertising Agencies ;
and thus a respectable support is secured.

The Evening Mail is a pleasant tea-table paper, edited by
Jonas M. Bundy, and published by J. S. Johnston & Co. The
Express is conducted by James and Erastus Brooks ; and is,
unfortunately for itself, the most slovenly paper ever published
in New York. The Evening Commonwealth, owned and
edited by George Marsland, is a new-comer, making gradual
progress. The News, Democrat, and Telegram rank in one
class. 'The Commercial Advertiser has the smallest circulation
of all ; and its size and price have lately been reduced.

The Evening Post is sixty-eight years old, and for more than
forty years has been conducted by William Cullen Bryant.
Its first number appeared on the 16th of November, 1801 ;
but the sheet was then little more than a quarter of the pres-
ent size. The first editor was William Coleinan. In 1826, a
quarter of a century from the time of the first issue, Mr. Bry-
ant began to write for its columns ; and in 1827 he became a
proprietor. In 1829, Mr. Coleniau died, and William Leg-
gett became connected with the paper ; and in 1834, on the
departure of Mr. Bryant for Europe, Mr. Lcggcttwas elevated
to the place of chief editor. In 1836, Mr.-Leggett retired, and
established the Plaindealer, which had a brief existence of
one year. In 1837, William G. Boggs bought a share of the
Evening Post, and retired, in the fall of 1848, to give place to
John Bigelow ; who, in turn, parted with his shares in 1861 in
favor of Parke Godwin, who also retired in May, 1868. Mr.
Godwin, a son-in-law of Mr. Bryant, first became a proprietor
of the Evening Post in 1840, but transferred his interest to
Timothy O. Howe in 1844 ; and afterwards wrote for the col-
umns of the paper without proprietary position, until he suc-
ceeded Mr. Bigelow in 1861. Isaac Henderson, who entered the
service of the Evening Post in 1846, became a partner in 1847 ;
and on the retirement of Mr. Godwin purchased his shares.

TIIE TRESS OF TO-DAY. 349

Mr. Henderson is now the chief owner of the paper. He \\as
recently Navy Agent in New York.

An incident in the editorial career of Mr. Bryant, and in the
history of the Evening Post, — not generally known, — had a
direct bearing upon the success of a great public improvement
in New York. On his return from Europe, several years be-
fore the project of laying out Central Park had taken shape,
Mr. Bryant accepted the invitation of a friend to visit the up-
per end of the island of New York, and in the course of a ramble
passed through the forest which skirts the bank of the East
lliver, and is still known by the name of Jones's Woods. The
utility and beauty of the public parks in the great cities of Eu-
rope had strongly impressed Mr. Bryant, and he determined to
urge upon the authorities and the citizens of New York the ne-
cessity of creating a Park which should be worthy of the city.
Acting upon this resolution, he set forth, through the columns
of the Eveniny Post, cogent reasons for undertaking this work ;
suggesting the purchase and adornment of Jones's Woods as a
proper step in the right direction. Many articles on this sub-
ject came from his pen, and the awakened interest of the pub-
••ventnally produced the desired result. In the original
plan of the Central Park the woods in question were included ;
but for good reasons the project underwent the modifications
which were subsequently embodied in the present Park.

Mr. I.ryaiit's reminiscences of the first half-century of the
Post * contain one or two paragraphs which are not
out of place, in this connection; for they reveal some of the
peculiarities of the old stylo of Journalism in New York, and
show us, too, wherein the customs of to-day are improvements
upon the past. Mr. Bryant wrote : —

" Ti / Post of the 24th of November, 1801, records the death of

1'hilip Hamilton, oldest son of General Alexander Hamilton, in the twentieth

— 'murdered,' says the editor, 'in a duel.' The practice of

duelling is then denounced as a 'horrid custom,' the remedy for which must
TOML: and pointed li-.^islativo interference,' inasmuch as 'fashion has
i it on a footing which nothing short of that can control.' The editor

himself belonged to the class with which fashion had placed it upon that foot-

* Ante, p. 37.

350 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

ing, arid was destined himself to be drawn by her power into the practice ho
so strongly deprecated.

" The quarrel with Cheetham went on. On the next day, in a discussion
occasioned by the duel in which young Hamilton fell, he mentioned Cheet-
ham, and spoke of ' the insolent vulgarity of that base wretch.' At a subse-
quent period, the Evening Post went so far as, in an article reflecting severely
upon Cheetham and Duane, to admit the following squib into its columns : —

" ' Lie on, Duane, Ho on for pay,
And Cheetham, lie thou too ;
More against truth you cannot say,
Than truth can say 'gainst you.'

" These wranglings were continued a few years, until the Citizen made a
personal attack upon Mr. Coleman, of so outrageous a nature that he de-
termined to notice it in another manner. Cheetham was challenged. He
was ready enough in a war of words, but he had no inclination to pursue it to
such a result. The friends of the parties interfered ; a sort of truce was patched
up, and the Citizen consented to become more reserved in its future assaults.

" A subsequent affair, of a similar nature, in which Mr. Coleman was en-
gaged, was attended with a fatal termination. A Mr. Thompson had a dif-
ference with him which ended in a challenge. The parties met in Love Lane,
now Twenty-first Street, and Thompson fell. He was brought, mortally
wounded, to his sister's house in town ; he was laid at the door, the bell was
rung, the family came out, and found him bleeding and near his death. He
refused to name his antagonist, or give any account of the affair, declaring
that everything which had been done was honorably done, and desired that
no attempt should be made to seek out or molest his adversary. Mr. Cole-
man returned to New York and continued to occupy himself with his paper
as before.

" Such is the tradition which yet survives concerning the event of a com-
bat to which the parties, who bore no previous malice to each other, were
forced by the compulsion of that ' fashion,' against which one of them, on the
threshold of his career as a journalist, had protested, even while indirectly
recognizing its supremacy. The quarrel arose out of political differences,
Mr. Coleman being in the opposition, and Mr. Thompson a friend of the ad-
ministration."

. . . " Those who recollect what occurred when General Jackson with-
drew the funds of the government from the bank of the United States, — a
measure known by the name of the removal of the deposits — cannot have
forgotten to what a pitch party hatred was then carried. It was a sort of
fury ; nothing like it had been known in this community for twenty years,
and there has been nothing like it since. Men of different parties could
hardly look at each other without gnashing their teeth; deputations were
sent to Congress to remonstrate with General Jackson, and some even
talked — of course it was mere talk, but it showed the height of passion to
which men were transported — of marching in arms to the seat of govern-
ment and putting down the administration. A brief panic took possession
of the money market ; many worthy men really believed that the business and

TIIE TRESS OF TO-DAY. 351

trade of the country were In danger of coming to an end, and looked for a
universal ruin. In this tempest the Evening Post stood its ground, vindi-
cated the administration in its change of agents, on the ground that the
United States Bank was unsafe and unworthy, and derided both the threats
and the fears of the Whigs." ^

. . . " Tn 1837, the Times, a democratic morning paper, was published in

the city. The editor, one Dr. Holland, sent a challenge to

Mr. Bryant, by a friend, who was authorized to make the due arrangements

for the meeting Mr. Bryant treated the matter very lightly;

he put tin! challenge in his pocket, and told the bearer that everything must
take its proper turn, that Dr. Holland, having already been called a scoundrel
by Mr. Leggett, must give that affair the precedence, and that, for his own
part, he should pay no further attention to the matter in hand till that was
settled. The affair passed off without any consequences."

Of the morning journals of New York, four are widely
known and influential, — known for qualities peculiar to each,
and influential in separate directions. Representing different
phases of American life, different ideas of Journalism, different
methods of thought and action, all are needed; all arc pros-
perous ; and there is room for all. At frequent intervals, these
papers engage in a quadrangular quarrel, but no injury is in-
flicted which the lapse of a day will not mend; and, although
the newspaper antagonisms of the time are sometimes bitter,
the combatants have learned lessons from the past, — lessons
which Mr. Bryant has recited in the passages already quoted,
and no irate editor now thinks of pistoling his opponents by
way of punishment for words written in the heat of acrimonious
political argument, or uttered in the fervor of personal ani-
mosity. Perhaps it is not idle to hope for the coming of the
time when Journalism shall become wholly impersonal, and when
the sweeter courtesies of life shall take the place of the pitiful
jealousies, the despicable innuendoes, and the malignant false-
hoods which have too often sullied the record of newspaper life
in the Tinted States, and especially in New York.

The Tribune, still edited by Horace Greeley, holds its own
after twenty-nine years of active life. Mr. Greeley has had a
long and violent straggle with fortune; but he h cded

in baflaing up a great newspaper, in obtaining celebrity for

352 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

himself, and in amassing a comfortable independence. His
paper is now a valuable property. The errors into which his
impatient nature hurried him have been atoned by several
frank confessions ; and his nature has become so temperate,
in comparison with the unreasoning violence of his earlier years,
that it may reasonably be expected he will continue decorous.

The Herald, still nominally edited by James Gordon Ben-
nett, is really conducted by his subordinates. The profits of
the Herald are larger than those of any other paper in New
York, from its large circulation, and its enormous advertising
patronage ; but its influence is among the things of the past.

The World, begun as a religious newspaper, long since
relinquished the effort to run counter to the laws of Mammon.
But it is incisively witty — and successful.

The Times, which began, must end this record. Soon
after the death of Mr. Eaymond, that paper passed for a short
time under the management of Mr. John Bigelow, forme.rly of
the Evening Post, and later United States Minister to France.
Mr. Bigelow retiring, Mr. George Jones — long the publisher
of the Times — became its responsible head. He now exer-
cises a general supervision over its editorial management, as
well as its financial affairs. The present editorial force was
constituted under his direction, and the departments of the
paper are arranged in the following order : —

Managing Editor and leading Political Writer — George
Sheppard.

Editorial Writers — L. J. Jennings, John Webb, and George
E. Pond; together with a large corps of contributors, not
employed in regular service, but engaged to write upon spe-
cial topics.

Literary and Dramatic Critic — Henry Sedley.

Financial Editor — C. C. Norvell.

Commercial Editor — Michael Hennessey.

Night Editor — E. M. Bacon.

Assistant Night Editor — Ranald McDonald,

City Editor — E. R. Sinclair.

Mail-Reader — Jacob Thompson.

THE PRESS OP TO-DAY. 353

Washington Bureau — L. L. Crounse, and a large number
of assistants.

Mr. Henry TV. Raymond, who entered the service of the
Times to learn the whole routine of practical journalism,* has
followed so well in the footsteps of his father, that he is already
regarded as one of the most useful workers on the paper.
Henry J. Raymond began his career as a reporter, and by his
ability and energy worked his way upward ; there is no reason
to doubt that his son, whose physical and mental resemblances
to his father are equally striking, will show himself capable of
achieving the success which is always won by natural ability,
and by well-directed industry.

Two distinguished journalists who were formerly identified
with the Times have lately retired from its service. A fluent
and graceful writer, — Mr. John Swinton, — who for many
years conducted the department of "Minor Topics," now rests
upon his laurels. Of Scottish birth, and characterized by great
natural shrewdness and ready wit, Mr. Swinton brought to the
profession of Journalism a keen and just sense of its require-
ments. In greater degree than almost any other member of
his profession in this country, he possesses the faculty of point-
ing a paragraph in such a manner that it becomes as effective
as the labored essay of the didactic writer. The art of turning
neat paragraphs is an art which should be more carefully culti-
vated by writers for the public journals; for the day of elabo-
rate and heavy disquisition long since expired. Mr. William
Swinton, brother of the gentleman last named, was for several
years a contributor to the Times. He is Avell known as the
author of works on military subjects, and is a forcible and
pleasing writer.

It is didirult to arrive at the exact truth concerning the
circulation or the annual profits of the newspapers of New
York; l>ul the reader who is curious in such matters may
gather some interesting details from the subjoined statements,

* Ante, p. 228.

354

HENRY J. RAYMOND AND TIIE NEW YOEK PRESS.

taken from the books of the Assessors of Internal Revenue in
July, 1869. A comparison of these figures will show the rela-
tive proportion of patronage 'received by difierent classes of
journals. The return is for the nine months ending on the
30th of June, 1869, and in each case an exemption of twelve
hundred and fifty dollars per quarter was allowed by law, —
no tax being imposed upon advertisements.

-Quarter Ending-

NEWSPAPERS.

-~§

~~s*

£$

CCA

Herald

8199,757

$204,919

214,694

127,281

Tribune . . .

. 130,699

191,778

102,780

. 129,688

96,530

118,643

. 36,500

48,250

68,750

Sun

. 38,965

39,914

49,683

. 26,856

28,135

23,927

Express

. 22,916

23,971

24,763

News

. 64,750

66,750

69,750

. 24,500

30,COO

23,000

Democrat

9,408

20,501

23,850

Demokrat (German) ....

5,019

5,457

5,000

Commercial Advertiser ...

5,594

17,C66

10,317

4,072

4,026

Ledger

. 161,008

180,616

155,014

"Weekly and Phunny Phellow .

. 119,135

121,991

130,981

Harper's Weekly and Bazar . .

. 105,349

113,838

113,098

7,223

7,730

Mercury

38,805

38,690

38,087

Observer

. 23,324

27,390

13,159

26,000

10,339

. 16,602

14,831

8,825

8,458

7,468

9,600

12.198

8,575

. 17,177

19,748

20,574

Irish American

. 10,500

11,661

11,012

. 12,615

16,379

16,150

7,514

7,250

6,950

6,249

10,448

2,885

Christian Intelligencer . . .

3,220

4,680

3,430

Wilkes' Spirit . /

6,250

5,389

6,854

6,030

6,330

6,210

Day Book \

6,667

13,884

6,322

Scottish American ....

4,332

5,105

5,151

Shipping List

4.702

14,884

4,980

Army and Navy Journal .

3,220

4,850

2,830

THE PRESS OF TO-DAY. 355

/ Quarter Ending

" •-. "^ K-

NEWSPAPERS.

Examine* and Chronicle .... ft 6,464 $23,415 $10,334

Albion 2,250 2,240 2,880

Courier 3,892 5,941 6,927

Commercial Chronicle .... 2,360 4,694

Producers' Price Current .... 1,612 1,426 1,533

Irish People 2,139 1,880 2,015

Round Table 862 924

Handel Zeitung 2,262 916 710

Emerald 10,755 7,923 3,721

Turf, Fit-id, and Farm .... 948 325 5,120

New Yorker Journal . .... 18,950

Fireside Companion 23,229 17,974

Rural New Yorker 109,989 6,835

Yankee Notions 496 835

Liberal Christian 1,864 1,883

Counting House Monitor .... 1,690 1,900

Comic Monthly 2,230 4,672

Telegram 1,776 3,558

These imposing statistics reveal some part of the immense
force inherent in the Journalism of New York. With infinite
labor, and with unflagging zeal, the proprietors of the great news-
paper establishments have built up a profitable business ; and
with the rapid increase in the facilities of publication, the tenden-
cy to expansion must increase. We have seen what the Press
of New York was, and what it is. What it will be, no prophet
can foretell ; but the vast changes which have taken place in
the lifetime of a single generation establish precedents for
greater wonders.

The question of technical education in Journalism assumed a
new phase in the summer of 1869, when a circular letter was
sent out by the Faculty of Washington College, in Virginia, —
an institution over which General Robert E. Lee presides, —
proposing io «_rrant free scholarships to candidates for a new>-
paper eareer. This curious document* recited the terms upon
which the Faculty were willing to aid young men who intended
to make .Journalism their profession. The age of the candi-
dates was to be over fifteen years ; unimpeachable character

* Issued Aug. 19, 1869.

356 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND THE NEW YORK PRESS.

was a requisite qualification ; the appointments were to be for
two years. The scholarships were to include tuition .and all
college charges ; and a condition was attached, to the effect
that each student " should labor one hour per day in the line of
his profession." The Typographical Unions in the Southern
States were requested to nominate the candidates. The re-
sponse was feeble, and the newspapers became facetious over
a programme which was inherently absurd. The practical
journalists, who had worked their own way upward by diligent
application, knew the impossibility of learning the lessons of
Journalism within the walls of a collegiate institution.

Thoreau, in one of his cynical hermit moods, insisted that
men's inner lives fail when they go continually to the post-
office, and that the only difference between one man and his
neighbor lies in the fact that one has been " out to tea," and the
other has not. And an atrabilarious Archdeacon of the Es-
tablished Church in England not long ago saw fit to denounce
the Press in unmeasured terms, concluding with the statement
that there were " no newspapers in St. Paul's time ;" else there
had been no Christian religion.

Mr. Thoreau and the Archdeacon were wise in their own
way ; but it was owl-like wisdom, after all. The New Eng-
land hermit, secluding himself from all the advantages of civil-
ization, elected to be a cynic in the woods. He wrote books,
and mused upon the banks of running brooks, and had weird
fancies and quaint humors. But he did not discover the spirit
of his time, and he died young. The caustic Archdeacon, on
the other hand, was no hermit, but lived in the full blaze of
light, only to blink at things apparently beyond his compre-
hension.

For that which the great majority of mankind do must be
worth the doing ; else it would not be done. Were the print-
ing and publishing of newspapers an unprofitable undertaking,
no editor or capitalist would risk loss in making them. Were
the reader of newspapers to discover that his mind grew va-
cant, or his purse lean, as the consequence of his devotion to
their columns, common sense would end his delusion. But the
patronage bestowed upon the Press is constant, and it gives

THE PRESS OP TO-DAY. 357

good profit; so the papers multiply and arc read, and the
world clamors for them.

It is interest ing to recall the memories of what the New
York newspapers wen-, in order to understand them as they
are. In the old days, as we have shown, newspaper life was
slow ; now it is fast. Thirty years ago, when the Pony Kx-
presses ran, and when single locomotives sped along a few iron
tracks, carrying tidings of what men were doing, events
were subjects for rejoicing; but all the speed of horses' legs,
or of tireless engines, could not compass in a day what is now
done for us in the ticking of a watch. Thirty years ago
the Telegraph was no part of the newspaper system ; now, no
newspaper is complete without its regular instalments of
".Manifold" from the offices of the Associated Press. Slender
wires of copper, stretched across interminable plains, cause
us to hear the very heart-throbs of our brothers three thousand
miles away on the Pacific slope ; and seven other copper wires,
bundled into the compass of a man's thumb, and sunk in the
depths of the Atlantic, make the Old World and the Xew more
than brothers, — for each knows the other's thought as soon as
uttered, and neither moves without a sympathetic pulsation.
The mail which leaves London on the first of each month is
opened in California on the sixteenth; and thirty days later,
the Kngli.-h tea-merchant's order puts the Ilang-Kow deal-
-ubordinates at work among chests of Souchong and Bo-

hea. These rapid advances may be but the forerunners of
more wonderful events. Men now living may yet prepare
news for print, received from Paris by Halloon Kxpre>s ; or
may see composing-rooms lighted by oxygen gas, and the
daily journal printed in a carpeted parlor by the aid of the
electric engine. Man has grappled with the forces of Nature,
and wilh skilful hand bends them to his will.

Changes . -ire at hand in American Journalism. In another
quarter of a century, the well-known men who have built up
the present great Dailies of New York, and upon whose heads
Time's fingers have been busy, will have dotled the harness they
\\ear >o well, to give place to the. younger. AVe regard with
gratitude the work these men have done; and the natural

358 HENRY J. RAYMOND AND TILE NEW YORK PRESS.

question then arises, "On what scale, and in what spirit, shall
it be continued?" Accepting the promise of the Present, the
prospect of the Future brightens. For, as men come to know
each other better, through the more rapid annihilation of time
and space, they will be plunged deeper into affairs of trade and
finance and commerce, and be burdened with a thousand cares,
— and the Press, as the reflector of the popular mind, will then
take a broader view, and reach forth towards a higher aim ;
becoming, even more than now, the living photograph of the
time, the sympathetic adviser, the conservator, regulator, and
guide of American Society.

APPENDIX,

CONTENTS OF APPENDIX.

PAGB

Autobiographical Fragment, by Henry J. Raymond ••••••• 361

The Pittsburg Address, written by Henry J. Raymond in 1856 . . * . .366

Disunion and Slavery: Mr. Raymond's Letters to William L. Yancey in I860 . . 384

The Philadelphia Address, written by Henry J. Raymond in 1866 .... 448

Address delivered before the Associate Alumni of the University of Vermont, by
Henry J. Raymond 462

A Pilot-Boat Voyage in Search of News ......... 486

APPENDIX A.

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENT.

[TiiE subjoined fragment of Mr. Raymond's Autobiography first appeared
in tlir columns of the New York^7Yws on the loth of August, ISG'J — two
months after tin- death of Mr. Raymond. It was introduced by the Editor
then in charge of the Times, in the following terms: —

•• Mr. Raymond had a good right to suppose that the events of his life were
destined to have a permanent interest to his countrymen. His career,
though brief, was a very brilliant one, and gave promise of the most exalted
civic honors. We are not surprised, therefore, to learn that among his
paper> wa> found the commencement of an autobiography which, though
like most autobiographies, is only a fragment, happily gives details of that
period of his life usually least accessible to the biographer. In reading this
brief memorial of Mr. Kaymond's early struggles. with the world, our readers
will feel a new respect for the talent and energy by which he triumphed, and
tlio-e who are begiunini; life under similar disadvantages will derive from
.ample and success fresh encouragement."] •

" I have been very much interested in Mr. Greeley's recollections of his

early experience in newspapers, and especially in the establishment of the
-••nu- reason or other, everybody, I believe, llnds something
especially interesting in the details of the rise and progress of a newspaper;
but my connection with Mr. (ireeley at that time makes it quite natural that
my interest in it should be even sharper than that of the public at large.
The generOQfl appreciation which Mr. (ireeley expresses, now that more than
u quart, i "[' a century has elapsed, of my services at that time, is especially
gratef.d to me. I was with him less than four years, instead of ei^ht, as he
sa\>: and. though I did work, I believe, quite as hard during that time upon
the / i >'\v -ivcs me credit for having clone. I think 1 have

worked siill harder fora nood many years since that time. But I certainly
deserve \\n special credit for it in cither case. I did it from no special sense
of duty, — stili less with any special aim or ambitions purpose. I liked it;
I kii'-w no -reater pleasure, having had hut little experience then. — and I
am free to say that 1 have found only one sii:

••Mr. i. n, i,-\- speaks more slightingly than I think is just of his previous

362 APPENDIX.

efforts in editing newspapers, and especially of what was my- earliest favor-
ite among newspapers, the New-Yorker. I made its acquaintance in the
winter of 1835, when, being but fifteen, and too young to go to college,
for which I was better prepared than my father was to send me, I had under-
taken to act as clerk in a country store for the magnificent sum of seventy-
five dollars a year. I did not like the business, and as time hung heavy on my
hands I dropped in at the post-office and asked what, was the best newspaper
to subscribe for. The postmaster threw me half a dozen which had been
sent to him by the publishers as specimen numbers; and after due delibera-
tion I selected the New- Yorker as the one which promised to be the most
interesting and instructive. I sent my three dollars' subscription, received
the paper in return, and thus began my acquaintance with it, which was
uninterrupted until in 1841 I aided, perhaps, to kill it — certainly at its
funeral ceremonies.

" Mr. Greeley speaks deprecatingly of its neutrality in politics and its
meagre election returns. Yet those very features gave him a solid reputa-
tion much more widely than he has any notion of, and laid the foundation of
his future authority and success. There was a candor in its discussions, a
fair examination of both sides of the political topics which divided the coun-
try, and a readiness to give due weight to the arguments of an opponent,
which, combined with great clearness of thought and command of the subject,
won for the political articles of the New- Yorker a very high degree of influ-
ence and respect. I know that they made far greater impression upon polit-
ical opponents than the vehement party diatribes which then, as now, were
regarded as so much more effective. And the election returns of the New-
Yorker, for years, commanded a degree of respect to which none of the party
journals of the day could aspire. They were regarded as unbiassed by party
feeling, perfectly honest, and coming from a well-informed and thoroughly
reliable quarter. The New- Yorker was as great an authority in that section
of the country, on election returns, as the Mercury (the weekly edition of the
Journal of Commerce}, under Mr. Gerard Hallock: — and when the verdict
of either of those journals came to hand, all disputes on the subject ceased.

" The reputation which Mr. Greeley thus won for himself in the New-
Yorker was of very essential service to him in his other journalistic efforts,
long after the New-Yorker itself ceased to exist. The calm, dispassionate
character of its articles, — their strength of argument all the more conspicu-
ous by reason of the absence of passion, — and the accuracy of its statements
won for Mr. Greeley a degree of public confidence sufficient to set up half-a-
dozen men in any business where confidence was the main thing required.

" Mr. Greeley edited the Jeffersonian in 1838, and the Log Cabin in 1840, on
the same general principles, — though, as they were both campaign papers,
with less fastidious care, and no pretension to neutrality. The Log Cabin
was, in my judgment, the best campaign paper ever published, — certainly
the best of which I ever had any knowledge ; and it was the best because it
was never afraid or unwilling to give an opponent's argument. — its state-
ments of fact were carefully truthful, and always backed by good authority,
and its tone was that of earnest and thorough conviction. Its enormous cir-
culation made the reputation which Mr. Greeley had won in the New- Yorker
as wide as it was high ; and laid the foundation for the very large circulation

AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL FRAGMENT. 363

which the Weekly Tribune subsequently received. The financial crash of
1837, and the public sentiment which grew out of it, was probably the real
cause of the Democratic defeat of 1840; but of all the immediate and direct
agencies in the Whig victory of that year, the Log Cabin was undoubtedly
the most powerful and effective. It was not without substantial reason that
Mr. Grecley afterward complained to Governor Seward that his services had
not been properly appreciated by the party he had aided to place in power.

"I graduated in August, 1840, and, though I could not vote, I spent the
next two months in 'stumping' the immediate vicinity of my native town for
'Tippccanoe and Tyler too.' After the election I traversed the same region
in search of a select school to teach ; and it was only upon the downfall of
all such hopes, and in despair of finding anything to do there, that I ' hied'
to New York city, of which I had heard, but which I had never seen but
once, and in which I knew but one human being, and he a student in a law-
yer's office in Wall Street. I had once seen Mr. Greeley, in the Journal
office in Albany, — while on my way home for the vacation after the College
Commencement in 1838. I had stopped in to inform the editor, as apiece of
news, that the college had conferred the degree of LL. D. upon Silas Wright.
I found Mr. Weed and Mr. Greeley both there — both hard at work, and both
greatly disgusted at the bestowal of such an honor upon so notorious a Loco-
foco. The thing had not struck me in this light before, but I began to be a
little ashamed of having supposed I should do them a favor by giving them a
piece of news which pleased them so little. But I had sent a good many
literary contributions — mainly critical, though some (as I then thought)
poetic — to the New-Yorker; and I therefore felt at liberty on my arrival
in December, 1840, to call upon Mr. Greeley and ask him if he didn't want
an assistant. He said no, he had just engaged one, a young man from Penn-
sylvania. But lie readily assented to my request that I might be at the office
whenever I chose ; in return for which I promised to help in anything that
might turn up in which I could be of assistauce. And I did. I forthwith
advertised in the Washington Intelligencer for a school in the South, and
while awaiting replies arranged to 'study law' in a down-town lawyer's
office. But I was at the New-Yorker office every day. and somehow orothcr a
good deal of the work fell into my hands. I added up election returns, read
the exchanges for news, and discovered a good deal which others hail over-
looked; made brief notices of new books, read proof, and made myself
generally useful. At the end of about three weeks I received the tir-t reply
to my advertisement, ollering me a school of thirty scholars in North Caroli-
na, I told Mr. (liveley at once that I should leave the city the next morning.
Hi- a>ked me to walk with him to the post-office, whither he always went in
i to get his letters and exchanges, and on the way inquired where I
•>ing. I told him to North Carolina to teach a school. Ho asked me
how much tin > would pay me. I said, four hundred dollars a year. 'Oh.
said he, -stay here — I'll give you that.' And this was my first engagement
on the l'iv>s, and decided the whole course of my lii'e.

"I at once settled down to work. There was not. a< Mr. Greeley -
very much to do on the AVir- Ynrk< r, though I believe I did my share of
what there was. But I extended my sphere of operations considerably. I
secured what 1 deemed a first -class engagement, to write daily a fancy ad-

364 APPENDIX.

vortisement of some Vegetable Pills, which had just been invented, and which
were to be commended to public favor every morning in the daily journals by
being ingeniously connected with some leading event of the clay, — for which
service, which cost me perhaps ten minutes of daily labor, I received the
sum of fifty cents. I was fortunate enough next to get a Latin class in an up-
town seminary. And I sent proposals for New York correspondence to a
great variety of newspapers, daily and weekly, throughout the country, sev-
eral of which were confiding enough to close with my proposals. Among
the dailies for which I thus engaged were the Philadelphia Standard, edited
by II. W. Griswold, whom I had known in Vermont, and who was always
my friend; the Cincinnati Chronicle, edited by E. D. Mansfield, now for
some years the ' Veteran Observer' of the New York Times; the Bangor
WTiig and the Buffalo Commercial Advertiser, edited by D. Foote, whom in
after years I came to know, and of course to esteem, as did all who knew
him. A daily letter for each of these papers, with my law studies, my
Latin class, my work on the New- Yorker, kept my leisure reasonably well
employed, and gave me a fair income, as none of these journals paid me
less than five dollars a week, and one or two of them gave me six.

" I picked up now and then instructive hints during my studies of New
York life. While walking clown Broadway one afternoon, before I had be-
gun to earn much money, I fell into the wake of a tall, handsome, splendid-
ly dressed young man, — displaying himself in all the luxury of white kids
and diamond studs, to the general admiration. I fancied him one of the
nabobs of the town, and fell into a train of wondering thought as to how he
Lad probably reached his present height of dazzling splendor. Of course I
could not wholly forbear contrasting my own position with his, though
•without any feelings of special envy. The next day Mr. Greeley asked me
to go to the office of Porter's Spirit of the Times, then in Barclay Street, and
get him a copy of the paper. While waiting at the desk, the door opened
and my magnificent friend of the day before, all accoutred as he was,
sailed in. lie walked into the back part of the office, took off, folded and
put away his white gloves, hung up his hat and coat, put on an ink-stained
linen jacket, and set himself busily to work icriting wrappers. I felt decided-
ly encouraged as to the prospects of New York life ! "

APPE]NDIX B.

THE PITTSBURG ADDRESS: — 1856.

BIUTII OF THE REPUBLICAN PARTY IX THE UNITED STATES.

[TiiK Re-publican Convention assembled at Pittsbnrg on the 22d of Feb-
ruary, 1S5G. The following Address to the People of the United States,
drawn by Henry J. Raymond, was reported and adopted on Saturday, Febru-
ary 23.]

To the People of the United States: —

Having met in Convention in the city of Pittsburg, in the State of Penn-
sylvania, this 22d day of February, 1856, as the representatives of people in
various sections of the Union, to consult upon the political evils by which the
country is menaced, and the political action by which those evils may be
I, we address to you this Declaration of our Principles, and of the pur-
I which we seek to promote.

We declare, in the first place, our fixed and unalterable devotion to the
Constitution of the- I'nited Slates, to the ends for which it was e-tablishcd.
and to the means which it provided for their attainment. We accept the sol-
emn protestation of the people of the United it they ordained it,
•' in order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, ensure domestic
tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare,
and .-•••.•ure the blessings of liberty to themselves and their posterity." We
believe that the p.iwers which it confers upon the Government of the United
are ample for the accomplishment of these objects; and that if those
power-; arc c\eivUed in the spirit of the Constitution itself, they cannot lead
to any other result. We respect those great rights which the Constitution
declares to he inviolable, freedom of speech and of the press, the free
ci-c i>r r- II :'. and the right of the people peaceably to assemble and
to petition the <!o\ eminent for a redress of grievanc -. W.- would pi
those great safeguards of civil freedom, the habeas :ie right of trial
by jury, and the right of personal liberty, unless deprived ;' crime
by due process of law. We declare our purpo- . in all things, the re-
quirements of the Constitution, and of all laws enacted in ptir-ua:

• a profound reverence for the wise and patriotic men by whom it

366 APPENDIX.

was framed, and a lively sense of the blessings it has conferred upon our
country, and upon mankind throughout the world. In every crisis of diffi-
culty and of danger, we shall invoke its spirit, and proclaim the supremacy
of its authority.

In the next place, we declare our ardent and unshaken attachment to this
Union of American States, which the Constitution created, and has thus far
preserved. We revere it as the purchase of the blood of our forefathers, as
the condition of our national renown, and as the guardian and guaranty of
that liberty which the Constitution was designed to secure. We will defend
and protect it against all its enemies. We will recognize no geographical di-
visions, no local interests, no narrow or sectional prejudices, in our endeav-
ors to preserve the union of these States against foreign aggression and do-
mestic strife. What we claim for ourselves, we claim for all. The rights,
privileges, and liberties which we demand as our inheritance, we concede as
their inheritance to all the citizens of this Republic.

Holding these opinions, and animated by these sentiments, we declare our
conviction that the Government of the United States is not administered in
accordance with the Constitution, or for the preservation or prosperity of the
American Union ; but that its powers are systematically winkled FOR THE

PROMOTION AND EXTENSION OF THE INTERESTS OF SLAVERY, in direct hostility

to the letter and spirit of the Constitution, in flagrant disregard of other great
interests of the country, and in open contempt of the public sentiment of the
American people and of the Christian world. We proclaim our belief that
the policy which has for years past been adopted in the administration of the
General Government tends to the utter subversion of each of the great ends
for which the Constitution was established ; and that, unless it sluill be ar-
rested by the prompt interposition of the people, the hold of the Union upon
their loyalty and affection will be relaxed, the domestic tranquillity will be
disturbed, and all constitutional securities, for the blessings of liberty to our-
selves and our posterity, will be destroyed. The slavehokling interest can-
not be made permanently paramount in the General Government, without in-
volving consequences fatal to free institutions. We acknowledge that it is
large and powerful ; that in the States where it exists, it is entitled, under the
Constitution, like all other local interests, to immunity from the interference
of the General Government, and that it must necessarily cxcrci-c, through its
representatives, a considerable share of political power. But there is noth-
ing in its position," as there is certainly nothing in its character, to sustain
the supremacy which it seeks to establish. There is not a State in the Union
in which the slaveholders number one-tenth part of the free white population
— nor in the aggregate do they number one-fiftieth part of the white popula-
tion of the United States. The annual productions of the other classes in
the Union far exceed the total value of all the slaves. To say nothing, there-
fore, of the questions of natural justice and of political economy which sla-
very involves, neither its magnitude, nor the number of those by whom it is
represented, entitle it to one-tenth part of the political powers conferred upon
the Federal Government by the Constitution. Yet we see it seeking, and at
this moment wielding, all the functions of government, — executive, legisla-
tive, and judicial, — and using them for the augmentation of its powers and
the establishment of its ascendency.

THE PITTSBURG ADDRESS: — 1856. 367

From tills ascendency, the principles of the Constitution, the rights of the
several States, the safety of the Union, and the welfare of the People of the
United States, demand that it should be dislodged.

HISTORICAL OUTLINE OF THE PROGRESS OF SLAVERY TOWARDS ASCENDENCY

IN 'I III". IT.DKRAL GOVERNMENT.

It is not necessary for us to rehearse in detail the successive steps by
which the slavelmlding interest has secured the influence it now exerts in
the General Government. Close students of political events will readily
trace the path of its ambition through the past twenty-five years of our na-
tional history.

It was under the administration of President Tyler, and during the negotia-
tion which preceded the annexation of Texas, that the Federal Administra-
tion for the first time declared, in its diplomatic correspondence witli foreign
nations, that slavery in the United States was a " POLITICAL INSTITUTION. i:<-

M:\TI A I. '10 TIIK PEACE, SAFETY, AND PROSPERITY OF THOSE STATES OF THE

I'MMN IN" \\-nicii IT EXISTS; " and that the paramount motive of the American
(iovernment, in annexing Texas, was twofold, — first, to prevent the aboli-
tion of slavery within its limits; and, secondly, to render slavery more
secure and more powerful within the slavtoholding States of the Union. Sla-
very was thus taken under the special care and protection of the Federal
Government. It was no longer to be left as a State institution, to be con-
trolled exclusively by the States themselves; it was to be defended by the
General Government, not only against the invasion or insurrection of armed
enemies, but against the moral .sentiment of humanity, and the natural devel-
opment of population and material power.

Thus was the whole current of our national history suddenly and unconsti-
tutionally reversed. The General Government, abandoning the position it
had always held, declared its purpose to protect and perpetuate what the
u'n-ut founders of onr Republic -had regarded as an evil; as at variaii'
the principles on which our institutions were based, and as a source of weak-
-.•eial and political, to the communities in which it existed. At the
time of the Revolution, slavery existed in all the colonies; but neither then,
nor for half a century afterwards, had it been an element of political strife,
for there was no diHercnee of opinion or of policy in regard to it. The ten-
di-ney of a flairs has been towards emancipation. Half the origin.il thirteen
I had taken measures, at an early day, to free themselves from the
blighting influence and the reproach of slavery. Virginia and North Caro-
lina had anticipated the Continental Congress of 1771, in checking the in-
ereaM of their slave population, by prohibiting the slave-trade at any of
their ports.

SENTIMENTS OF Till'. rilAMF.RS OF THE CONSTITUTION CONt i:i:MN<; SI.AVi:i;Y.

Tin- Constitution, conferring upon Congress full power to prevent the in-
of slavery by prohibiting the slave-trade, had, out of regard for ex-
isting interests and vested rights, postponed the exercise of that power over
the States then existing until the year 1808, leaving Congress free to >

368 APPENDIX.

cise it over new States and over the Territories of the United States, by pro-
hibiting the migration or importation of slaves into them, without any re-
striction except such as its own discretion might supply. Congress promptly
availed itself of this permission, by reaffirming that great ordinance of the
Confederation, by which it was ordained and decreed that all the territory
then belonging to the United States should be forever free. Four new States
were formed out of the territory lying South of the Ohio River, and admitted
into the Union, previous to 1820; but the territory from which they were
formed had belonged to States in which slavery existed at the time of their
formation; and in ceding it to the General Government, or in assenting to the
formation of new States within it, the old States to which it belonged had in-
serted a proviso against any regulation of Congress that should tend to the
emancipation of slaves. Congress was thus prevented from prohibiting sla-
very in these new States, by the action of the old States out of which they
had been formed. But as soon as the constitutional limitation upon its
power over the States then existing had expired, Congress prohibited, by
fearful penalties, the addition, by importation of a single slave, to the number
already in the country.

The framers of the Constitution, although the historical record of their
opinion proves that they were earnest and undivided in their dislike of
slavery, and in their conviction that it was hostile in its nature and its influ-
ences to Republ^an freedom, after taking these steps to prevent its increase,
did not interfere with it further in the States where it then existed. Those
States were separate communities, jealous of their sovereignty, and unwilling
to enter into any league which should trench, in the least degree, upon their
own control of their own affairs. This sentiment the framers of the Consti-
tution were compelled to respect; and they accordingly left slavery, as they
left all other local interests, to the control of the several States. But no one
who reads with care the debates and the recorded opinions of that age, can
doubt that the ultimate removal of slavery was desired by the people of the
whole country, and that Congress had been empowered to prevent its in-
crease, with a view to its gradual and ultimate extinction. Nor did the
period of emancipation seem remote. Slave labor, employed as it was in ag-
riculture, was less profitable than the free labor which was pouring in to take
its place. And even in States where this consideration did not prevail, other
influences tended to the same result. The spirit of liberty was then young,
generous, and strong. The men of the nation had made sacrifices ai.d waged
battles for the vindication of their inalienable rights to life, liberty, and the
pursuit of happiness ; and it was not possible fo_r them to sit down in the
quiet enjoyment of blessings thus achieved, without feeling the injustice, as
well as the inconvenience, of holding great numbers of their fellow-men, in
bondage. In all the States, therefore, there existed a strong tendency
towards emancipation. The removal of so great an evil was felt to be a
worthy object of ambition by the best and most sagacious .statesmen of that
age; and Washington, Jefferson, Franklin, and all the great leaders and rep-
resentatives of public opinion, were active and earnest in devising measures
by which it could be accomplished.

But the great change produced in the industry of the Southern States, in
the early part of the present century, by the increased culture of cotton, the

THE PITTSBURG ADDRESS : — 1856. 3G9

introduction of new inventions to prepare it for nse, and Its growing impor-
tance to tiie commerce of the country and the labor of the world, by making
dare labor more profitable than it had ever been before, checked this ten-
dency towards emancipation, and soon pat an end to it altogether. As the
dcman'l f»r cotton increased, t lie interests of the cotton-growing States be-
came more and more connected with slavery; the spirit of freedom gradu-
ally gave way before the spirit of gain; the sentiments and the language of
the Southern States became changed ; and all attempts at emancipation be-
gan to lie regarded, and resisted, as assaults upon the rights and the interests
of the slaveholdini: section of the Union. For many years, however, this
change did not affect the political relations of the subject. States, both free
and slaveholding, were successively added to the Confederacy, without ex-
citini: the fears of either section. Vermont came into the Union in 1791,
with a Constitution excluding slavery. Kentucky, formed out of Virginia,
\\-a-: admitted in 1792, Tennessee in 179G, Mississippi in 1817, and Alabama
in 1819, — all slave States, formed out of territory belonging to slave States,
and having slavery established in them at the time of their formation. On
the other hand, Ohio was admitted in 1803, Indiana in 1816, and Illinois in
1818, having formed State Governments under acts of Congress which made
it a fundamental condition that their Constitution should contain nothing re-
pugnant to the Ordinance of 1787 — or in other words, that slavery should
he prohibited within their limits forever. In all these occurrences, as in the
admission of Louisiana in 1812, there had been no contest between freedom
and slavery, for it had not been generally felt that the interests of either
were seriously involved.

THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE.

The first contest concerning the admission of a new State, which turned
upon the finest ion of slavery, occurred in isifi, when Missouri, formed out
of territory purchased from France in 1803, applied to Congress for admission
to the Union as a slavcholdinir State. The application was strenuously re-
si>ted by the people of the free States. It was everywhere felt that the de-
( i.sion involved consequences of the last importance to the welfare of the
country, and that, if the progress of slavery was ever to be arrested, that

• time to arrest it. The slave-holding interest demanded its admission
as a riuht, and denied the power of Congress to impose conditions upon new
States applying to be admitted into the Confederacy. The power rested with
the free States, and Missouri was denied admission. But the subject was re-
viewed. The slaveholding interest, with characteristic and timely sagacity,
; -omethiiiLr of its pretensions, and settled the controversy on the basis
of compromise. .Missouri was admitted into the Union by an act bearing
i which it was also declared that "in all that territory

>y Franc- -.itcd States, under the name of Louisiana, which

lies north of :',r,° :',(V of north latitude, not included within the limits of the
State of Missouri, si.wi I:Y AND INVIH.IN r \i;v sri:viivi>r. otherwise than in
the punishment of crimes whereof tin- parties shall have been duly convicted,

\M> is nr.KiT.Y. riti:r.vi-i: runmr.i n-:i>." In each house of Co'
a majority of the members from the >laveholding States voted in favor of the

370 APPENDIX.

bill wHh this provision; thus declaring and exercising, by their votes, the
constitutional power of Congress to prohibit slavery even in territories
where it had been permitted, by the law of France, at the date of their cession
to the United States. A new slave State, Arkansas, formed out of that por-
tion of this territory lying south of 36° 30', to which the prohibition was not
extended, was admitted to the Union in 1836. Two slave States thus came
into the Confederacy by virtue of this arrangement ; while freedom gained
nothing by it but the prohibition of slavery from a vast region which civili-
zation had made no attempt to penetrate.

Thus ended the first great contest of freedom and slavery for position
and power in the General Government. The slaveholding interest had
achieved a virtual victory. It secured all the immediate results for which it
struggled ; it acquired the power of offsetting, in the Federal Senate, two
of the free States of the Confederacy; and the time could not be foreseen
when, in the fulfilment of its compact, it would yield any positive and practi-
cal advantage to the interests of freedom. Neither then, nor for many years
thereafter, did any statesman dream that, when the period should arrive,
the slaveholding interest would trample on its bond, and fling its faith to the
winds.

A quarter of a century elapsed before the annexation of Texas. Slavery
had been active, meantime, in fastening its hold upon the Government, in
binding political parties to its chariot, and to seeking in Congress to stifle
the right of petition, and to crush all freedom of speech and of the press. In
every slaveholding State, none but slaveholders, or those whose interests are
identified with slavery, were admitted to fill any office, or exercise any
authority, civil or political. The whites, not slaveholders, in their presence,
or in the midst of their society, were reduced to a vassalage little less de-
grading than that of the slaves themselves. Even at this day, although the
white population of the slaveholdiug States is more than six millions, of
whom but three hundred and forty-seven thousand five hundred and twenty-
five, or less than one-seventeenth, are the owners of slaves, none but a slave-
holder, or one who will act with exclusive reference to slavery, is ever
allowed to represent the State in any National Convention, in either branch
of Congress, or in any high position of civil trust and political power. The
slaveholding class, small as it is, is the governing class, and shapes legisla-
tion, and guides all public action for the advancement of its own interest
and the promotion of its own ends. During all that time, and from that time
even to the present, all slaveholdiug delegates in National Conventions, upon
whatever else they may differ, always concur in imposing upon the conven-
tion assent to their requisitions in regard to slavery, as the indispensable
condition of their support. Holding thus in their hands power to decide the
result of the election, and using. that power, uudeviatingly and sternly, for
the extortion of their demands, they have always been able to control the
nominations of both parties, and thus, whatever may be the issue, to secure
u President who is sure to be the instrument of their behests. Thus has it
come to pass that, for twenty years, we have never had a President who
would appoint to the humblest office within his gift, in any section of the
Union, any man known to hold opinions hostile to shivery, or to be active in
resisting its aggressions and usurpations of power. Men, the most upright

THE riTTSBUEG ADDRESS: — 183C. 371

and the most respectable, in States where slavery Is only known by name,
have- been ineligible to the smallest, trust — have been held unfit to distribute
9 from (la- Federal post-oilice to their neighbors, or trim the lamps of a
lighthouse upon the remotest point of our extended coast. Millions of our
citi/.cns have been thus disfranchised for their opinions concerning slavery,
and tin1 vast patrOMgO of tlM General Government has been systematically
wielded in its service, and for the promotion of its designs.

It was by such discipline, and under such influences, that the government
and the country were prepared for the second great stride of slavery
towards new dominion, and for the avowal of motives by which it was
attended.

ANNEXATION OF TEXAS AND THE WAR WITH MEXICO.

Texas was admitted into the Union on the 29th of December, 1845, with a
Const itution forbidding the abolition of slavery, and a stipulation that four
more States should become members of the Confederacy, whenever they
might be formed within her limits, and with or without slavery, as their in-
habitants might decide. The General Government then made virtual pro-
vision for the addition of five new slave States to the Union, — practically
securing to the slaveholding interest te'n additional members in the Senate, —
reprex-nting States, it might be, with less than a million inhabitants, and
outvoting five of the old States, with an aggregate population of eleven
millions. The corrupt and tyrannical Kings of England, when votes were
needed in the House of Lords to sustain them against the people, created
:is the emergency required. Is there in this anything in more flagrant
contradiction to the principles of IN-publican freedom, or more dangerous to
the public liberties, than in the system practised by the slaveholding interest
represented in the General Government?

I'.ut a third opportunity was close at hand, and slavery made a third
struggle for the extension of ils domain and the enlargement of its power.

The annexatio:i of Texas involved us in war with Mexico. The war was
willed on our part with vigor, skill, and success. It resulted in the e
to the 1'nited States of New Mexico, California, and Deseret, vast territories
over which was extended by Mexican law a prohibition of slavery. The
slaveholders demanded access to them all, resisted the admission of Califor-
nia and N''\v Mexico, which the energy of freemen, outstripping in its activity
the izovernmeii!, and even the slaveholding interest, had already converted
into free States, and treasonably menaced Congress and the Union with
overthrow, if its demands were not conceded. The free spirit of the country
\\as roiled with indignation by these pretensions, and for a time the whole
nation roused to the tempest which they had created. Untoward events
aided the wronir. The deaih <>f the 1'ivsidctil threw the whole power of the
administra' ' anid and faithless hands. Tarty resentments and party

ambitions ii ! ai:ain-t the ri'_rht. Great men, leaders of the people,

from whom, in better days, tin- people had learned lessons of principles ami
patriotism, yielded to the bowlines ..f the storm, and sought shelter, in sub-
ini^ion. from ! The slave-holding interest was a^ain victorious.

California, with her free constitution, was indeed admitted into the Union;
but New Mexico, with her constitution forbidding slavery within her borders,

372 APPENDIX.

was denied admission, and remanded to the condition of a territory; and
while Congress refused to enact a positive prohibition of slavery in the
Territories of New Mexico and Deseret, it was provided that, when they
should apply for admission as States, they should come in with or without
slavery, as their inhabitants might decide. Additional concessions were
made to the slave power; the General Government assumed the recapture
of fugitive slaves, and passed laws for the accomplishment of that end, sub-
versive at once of State sovereignty, and of the established safeguard of
civil freedom. Then the country again had rest. "Wearied with its efforts,
or content with their success, the slaveholding interest proclaimed a truce.

When Franklin Pierce, on the 4th of March, 1853, became President of the
United States, no controversy growing out of slavery was agitating the
country. Established laws, some of them enacted with unusual solemnity,
and under circumstances which made them of more than ordinary obligation,
had fixed the character of all the States, and ended the contest concerning
the territories. Sixteen States were free States, and fifteen States were
slave States. By the Missouri Compromise of 1820, slavery was forever
prohibited from all the Louisiana Territory lying north of the line of 36° 3(X;
while over that territory lying south of that line, and over the Territories of
New Mexico and Deseret, no such prohibition had been extended. The
whole country reposed upon this arrangement. All sections and all interests,
whether approving it or not, seemed to acquiesce in its terms. The slave-
holding interest, through all its organs, and especially through the General
Government, proclaimed that this was a final and irrepealable adjustment of
the struggle between freedom and slavery for political power; that it had
been effected by mutual concessions, and in the spirit of compromise; and
that it should be as enduring as the Union, and as sacred as the Consti-
tution itself. Both political parties gave it their sanction in their National
Conventions; the whole country assented to its validity; and President
Pierce, in his first official message to Congress, pledged himself to use all the
power of his position to prevent it from being disturbed.

But all these protestations proved delusive, and the acquiescence and con-
tentment which they produced afforded the opportunity, not only for new
aggressions on the part of slavery, but for the repudiation of engagements
into which its agents had solemnly entered. Less than a year had elapsed
before these pledges were broken, and the advantages which they secured
to freedom withdrawn by the slaveholding power.

REPEAL OF THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE.

In tho course of time and the natural progress of population, that portion
df the Louisiana Territory lying west of the Mississippi River, and north of
the line of 3G° 3(X, came to be desired for occupation; and on the 24th of
Match, 1854, an act was passed erecting npon it the two Territories of
Kansas and Nebraska, find organizing governments for them both. From
this whole region, the slaveholding interest, thirty-four years before, had
agreed that " Slavery and involuntary servitude, otherwise than in the pun-
ishment of crime, should be forever prohibited," and had received, as the
price of this agreement, the admission of Missouri, and subsequently, the

THE riTTSBURG ADDRESS : 185C. 373

admission of Arkansas, into the Union. By the Kansas and Nebraska bill,
this prohibition was declared to bo " in- and the intent

and meaning of the bill was further declared to be, " not to legislate slavery
into any territory or State, nor to exclude it therefrom, but to leave the people
thereof perfectly free to form and regulate their domestic institutions in
their own way, subject only to the Constitution of the United - Thns,

without a single petition for such action from any quarter of the Union, but
against the earnest remonstrances of thousands of our citizens against the
settled and profound convictions of the great body of the people in every por-
tion of the country, and in wanton disregard of the obligations of justice and
of good faith, the Missouri Compromise of ISi'O was repealed, and the seal
which had guaranteed freedom to that vast territory which the United
States had purchased from France was snatched from the bond. Oregon,
Washington, New Mexico, Deseret, and the new State acquired from Texas
north of 3G° 3<y, by compact, were all opened up to slavery, and those who
might llrst become the inhabitants thereof were authorized to make laws for
ablishtneut and perpetuation.

THE INVASION OF KANSAS AND ACTION OF THE GENERAL GOVERNMENT.

Nor did the slaveholding interest stop here in its crusade of injustice and
wrong. The llrst election of members for the Territorial Legislature of
Kansas was lixed for the 30th of March, 1855, and the law of Congress pre-
scribed that at that election none but "actual residents of the territory"
should be allowed to vote. Yet, to prevent people of the territory them-
selves from exercising the right to prohibit slavery, which the act of Congress
had conferred upon them, the slaveholding interest sent armed bands of men
from tin- neighboring State of Missouri, who entered the territory on the day
of clccii, n. tonk possession of the polls, excluded the legal voters, and pro-
ceeded themselves to elect members of the Legislature, without the slightest
regard to the qualifications prescribed by law. The judges of election, ap-
pointed under authority of the administration at Washington, aided and
abetted in the perpetration of the outrages upon the rights of the people of
Kansas, and the President of the United States removed from oilice the
Covcrnor whom he had himself appointed, but who refused to acknowledge
the Legislature which the slaveholding invaders from Missouri had thus im-
posni upon the territory.

That Legislature met on the 2d of July, 1855. Its first act was to exclude
those members, duly elected, who would not consent to the enactment of
la\\st'or the admission of slavery into the territory. Having thus silenced
all opposition to its behests, tin- Legislature proceeded to the enactment of
laws fur the government of Kansas upon the subject of slavery. The laws
of Missouri in regard to it were at lir>t extended over the territory. It was
then enacted, that every person who should raise an insurrection or rebellion
of negroes in the territory ; every person who should entice away a .slave,
with intent to procure his freedom: every person who should aid or assist in
•icing away a slave within the territory; and every person who >hould
entice or carry away a slave from any other State or territory of the t'nion,
and bring him within the Territory of Kansas, with tiie intent to etlect or

374 APPENDIX.

procure his freedom, upon the conviction thereof should suffer DEATH. It
was further enacted, that if an}7 person should write, print, or publish any
book, paper, argument, opinion, advice, or innuendo, calculated to produce a
disorderly, dangerous, or rebellious disaffection among the slaves in the ter-
ritoiy, or to indues them to escape from their masters, he should be deemed
guilty of FELONY, and be punished by imprisonment at hard labor for a term
not less than FIVE YKAIIS ; and that if any free person, by speaking or writing,
should assert or maintain that persons have not the right to hold slaves iu
that territory; or should introduce or circulate any book, paper, pamphlet,
or circular, containing any such denial of the right of persons to hold slaves
in that territory, he should be deemed guilty of felony, and be punished by
IMPRISONMENT at hard labor for a term not less than TWO YEARS. It was
still further enacted, by the same Legislature, that every free white male cit-
izen of the United States, and inhabitant of the territory, who should pay a
tax of one dollar, and take an oath to support the Constitution of the United
States, the act organizing the Territory of Kansas, the territorial law, and
the act for the recapture of fugitive slaves, should be entitled to vote at any
election in said territory, — thus making citizens of Missouri, or of any other
State, legal voters in Kansas, upon their presentation at the polls, upon tak-
ing the oaths prescribed, and upon the payment of one dollar, — in direct
violation of the spirit of the act of Congress, and in open disregard of the
rights of the people of the territory. And having made these enactments for
the establishment of slavery, the Legislature appointed Sheriffs, Judges, and
other officers of the territory, for their enforcement, — thus depriving the
people of all power over the enactment of their own lavvs, and the choice of
officers for their execution.

That these despotic acts, even if they had been passed by a Legislature
duly elected by the people of the territory, would have been null and void,
inasmuch as they are plainly in violation of the Federal Constitution, is too
clear for argument. Congress itself is expressly forbidden by the Constitu-
tion of the United States to make any lavvs abridging the freedom of speech
and of the press; and it is absurd to suppose that a Territorial Legislature,
deriving all its power from Congress, should not be subject to the same
restrictions. But these laws were not enacted by the people of Kansas.
They were imposed upon them by an armed force. Yet the President of the
United States, in a special message sent to Congress on the 24th of January,
1856, declares that they have been enacted by the duly constituted authorities
of the territory, and that they are of binding obligation upon the people
thereof. And on the 12th of February, 1856, he issued his proclamation,
denouncing any attempt to resist or subvert these barbarous and void enact-
ments, and warning all persons engaged in such attempts, that they will be
opposed, not only by the local militia, but by any available forces belonging
to the regular army of the United States. Thus has the Federal Government
solemnly recognized the usurpation set up in Kansas by invaders from Mis-
souri, and pledged all the power of the United States to its support. Ameri-
can history furnishes no parallel to the cruelty and tyranny of these acts of
the present administration. The expulsion of aliens, and the penalties
inflicted upon citizens for exercising freedom of speech" and of the pross,
under the alien and sedition laws, which were overthrown by the Kepublicau

Tin: mrsuuRG ADDRESS : — 1856. 375

party of 1703, \vcre lenient and mild when compared with the outrages per-
petrated upon the people of Kan-as, under color of law, by the usurping
invader-;, sustained by the Federal Government.

a full sense df the importance of the declaration, we affirm that the
execution of these threats by the President of the United s m the

people of Kansas, would lie an unconstitutional exercise of executive power,
present in:; a ea-e of intolerable tyranny; that American citizens cannot sub-
mit to it. and remain free; and that if blood shall be shed in the prosecution
unlawful a purpose, those by whose agency it may be spilt will be held
net and stern account by the freemen of the Republic. So plain, pal-
pable, and deliberate a violation of the Constitution would justify the inter-
position of the States, \\ho>e duty it would be, by all the constitutional
means in their power, to vindicate the rights and liberties of the citizen
airaiust the power of the Federal Government; and we take this occasion to
• iir fellow-citi/.ens in Kansas, against whom these unconstitutional
• !. our profound sympathy with them in the resistance which
it is their ri^ht. and their duty to make to them, and our determination to
make that syirpathy eflicient by all the means which we m:iy lawfully employ.
Thus for a period of twenty-five years has slaver}' been contendm™. under
various pretexts, but with constant success, against the tendencies of civili-
zation and the spirit of our institutions, for the extension and perpetuation of
.ver. The decree in which the General Government has aided its efforts
may be traced in the successive steps it has taken. In 17S7. all the States in
the Confederacy united in ordaining that slavery should be forever prohibited
from all the territory bclon.L'ini: to the United States. In 1780, the lirst Con-
•f the United States passed a law reaUirmin.ir this ordinance, and re-
enacting the prohibition of slavery which it contained. In isiM. the slave-
holdini: in ,:vd the admission of Missouri, as a slave State, into the

Uniov. ling t > a similar prohibition of- slavery from the Louisiana

Territory lying north of Of!0 T.O'. In ls."il. that prohibition was repealed, and
the people of the territory were left free to admit or exclude slavery, in their
own ili-crction. In is.'.i;. the General Government proclaims its determina-
tion to n--e all the power of the United States to enforce upon the people
obedience to laws imposed upon them by armed invaders, establishing
slaven. and visiting with terrible penalties their exercise of freedom of
and of the press upon that subject. While two-thirds of the Ameri-
can people live in States where slavery is forbidden by law, and while live-
sixths of the capital, enterprise, and productive industry of the coinr .
upon freedom as their basis, slavery thus controls all departments of their
common government, and wields their powers on its own behalf.

• or >i \\ r.uv.

ni.-i'.ier of course, for all these acts, and for all the outrages by which
they ha\e been atici. ! ivehohliug interest pretends to tind a warrant

in tin .111 of the l'ni All usurpation, in countries pro-

fes-in^ to lie free, must have the color of law for its suppor
committed by power upon popular rights, is 1,-ft without some att<
vindication. The partition of Poland, the overthrow of the rons'.kution of

376 APPENDIX.

Hungary, the destruction of Irish independence, like the repeal of the Mis-
souri Compromise and the conquest of Kansas, were consummated with a
scrupulous observance of the forms of law.

THE PLEA THAT THE MISSOURI COMPROMISE WAS HOT A COMPACT.

I. The repeal of the Missouri Compromise, it is urged on behalf of those
by whom it was effected, involved no violation of good faith, because that
Compromise was merely an act of Congress, and as such repealable at pleas-
ure. Regarded as a legal technicality, we are not disposed to contest this
plea. The Compromise was undoubtedly embodied in a Congressional
enactment, subject to repeal. But in this case, by the very nature of the
transaction, the faith of the parties was pledged that this enactment should
not be repealed. The spirit of the law, whatever its form, was the spirit of
a compact. Its enactment was secured by an exchange of equivalents. The
slaveholding interest procured the admission of Missouri into the Union, by
consenting and voting, through its Representatives in Congress, that north
of its southern line, in the Territory of Louisiana, slavery should be pro-
hibited forever. Without that consent and that vote, the admission of Mis-
souri could not have been secured; nor would the prohibition of slavery
until 1854, or until any other date, or for any other time than that specified
in the act, — namely, forever, — have purchased the assent of the free States
to the admission of Missouri as a slave State into the Union. The word
forever, therefore, was a part of the law, and of the consideration for its
enactment. Such a law may be repealed; but its repeal. is the rupture of a
compact, — the repudiation of a solemn covenant. The Missouri Compro-
mise has been regarded as such a compact, from the date of its enactment, in
all sections, and by all the people of the country. Successive Presidents have
invoked for it a respect and an obligation scarcely inferior to that of the Con-
stitution itself; and Senator Douglas himself, as late as 1845, declared that it
had been " canonized in the hearts of the American people, as a sacred thing,
which no ruthless hand would ever be reckless enough to disturb." What-
ever, therefore, the mere form of the bond may have permitted, good faith
on the part of the representatives of the slaveholding interest required that it
should be kept inviolate.

II. Nor is this charge of bad faith, brought against the slaveholding
interest for having repealed the Missouri Compromise, answered or cvadrd
by the pleas urged in its defence, that originally it was forcibly imposed by
the free States upon the slave States, without their consent; that it was
subsequently violated by the free States, in their refusal to extend its pro-
visions over New Mexico and Utah; or that its repeal, having been offered
by the free States themselves, could not be resisted or refused by the repre-
sentatives of slavery. (1.) Even if it were true that the prohibition of
slavery north of 3G° 3(X was originally enacted by the free States, against the
votes of the South, the fact that the admission of Missouri was accepted as
the price of that prohibition would have made the slaveholding interest a
party to the transaction, assenting to its terms, and bound by its obligations.
But the fact is not so. The act of March 0, 1820, which admitted Missouri,
and prohibited slavery iu the Louisiana Territory north of 36° 307, received

THE PITTSBURO ADDRESS : 1856. 377

in iiio Senate the vote of ttembers from slareholdlng States, while

only etytt were cast against it; ami in the ir>i;-c of Representatives, thirij-

eiijht members from the slave > i it, and (i. \ .-t it.

A majority of the votes fro in slaveholdini; States, in caeh branch of Con-

wcre thus -ivrii for the bill; and so far were the ivpr«--t nta: i
slavery I'nun regarding it as having been forced upon them, that ('.
rinckney. one of their greatest and ablest leaders, declared, on the ir^'ht of

•sai^e, that '• it 'filed in tlif. xhtr, hi>l<ling States as a triumph."

(2.) Still more absurd is it to say that the refusal of the North to extend the
provisions of the Compromise over other regions was a violation of its
terms, or in any way released the parties to it from their obligation to abide
by its require men to. (3.) It is true that the ostensible author of the propo-
sition to ivpcal it was a Senator from a free State; but the far I did not
authori/e the inference that the sentiment of the free States was justly and
truly represented by his action. There was, indeed, no room to doubt that
it was condemned by the unanimous voice of the free States, and that it
would be regarded by them, and by the country at large, as a very gross and
wanton violation of obligations which had been voluntarily assumed. No
matter from what geographical quarter of the Union it came, it was brought
forward in the interest and on behalf of the slaveholders. This, indeed, is
among the worst of the effects of slavery, and among the most signal proofs
of i'> ascendency, that able and ambitious men should enlist in its service,
and volunteer to perform offices on its behalf which its representatives
would .-corn to perform themselves — from the conviction that by that path
the Inuiors and dignities of the General Government are to be secured. The
slaveholding interest owed it to honor and good faith to resist the tempta-
tion which siu-h men might hold out for the repudiation of its obligations.

Tin: ri.r..v IIIAT COMJIJKSS H.VS NO POWER TO PROHIBIT SLAVERY ix TIIE

;1K>UIE8.

111. P.ut it is urged that the original enactment of the Missouri Com-
promise, by which slavery was prohibited from entering a portion of the
territory of the I'nited States, \\as a violation of the* Constitution ; that
Con:.'re-s has no rightful power to make such a prohibition ; but that into
any territory over which the Constitution is extended, the slaveholder has a
right, by virtue of its provisions, to take his slaves.
In reply to this, we an-wer: —

' - That, whether the plea be true or false, it comes too late; that the
slaveholdin:,' interest (..needed the constitutionality of the prohibition, by
ini: to it> enactment, and aiding it by the votes of its represental
><!. — '] hat. if the plea were true, the enactment \\ as null and void, by
ii of its iin.-.,nstitiitionality, and its repeal, therefore, was a needless
'ation of bad faith ; and,

Thir<l. —That the plea is not true, but is directly contrary to the plain
as well as to the spirit of the Constitution, and to the uniform practice
of the government from its foundation.

The Constitution declares that " the Congress shall have power to make
all needful rules and regulations respecting the territories or other p:

378 APPENDIX.

belonging to the United States." This language is very plain and very
broad. It imposes no limitation upon the power of Congress to make rules
and regulations respecting the territories, except that they shall be such as
are " needful; " and this, of course, lies in the discretion of power to deter-
mine. It assumes that power to legislate for the territories, which are the
common property of the Union, must exist somewhere; and also that it may
most justly, and most safely, be placed in the common government of the
Union. The authority of Congress over the territories is, therefore, with-
out any other limit than such as its judgment of what is " needful," of what
will best promote their welfare, and that of the whole country to which they
belong, may impose. If Congress, therefore, deem it expedient to make a
rule and regulation which shall prohibit slavery from any territory, we find
nothing in the Cpnstitution which removes such a prohibition from the
sphere of its authority. The power of Congress over the territories of the
United States is as complete and as full as that possessed by any State Leg-
islature over territory belonging to that State; and if the latter may prohibit
slavery within its territory, so may the former also.

It has been urged, we are aware, that the rules and regulations which Con-
gress is authorized to make respecting the territories are restricted to them
and regarded as property; and that this clause of the Constitution confers
no governmental power over them whatever. But this cannot be so, because
it is under this clause that Congress does govern the territories — that it
organizes their governments, and provides for their ultimate admission as
States. There is no other clause of the Constitution from which this power
of government can be inferred; as it unquestionably exists, therefore it must
rest upon this provision. But from whatever source it may be derived, the
authority to govern necessarily implies the right to decide what policy and
what laws will best promote the welfare of those on whose behalf that
authority is exercised. If Congress, therefore, believes that the well-being
of the territories and of the country at large will be promoted by excluding
slavery from them, it has, beyond all question, the right thus to prohibit and
exclude it.

This view of the authority of Congress over the territories of the United
States is sustained b}^ other clauses of the Constitution. In the ninth sec-
tion of the first article, it is declared that " the migration or importation of
such persons as any of the States now existing may think proper to admit,
shall not be prohibited by Congress prior to the year 1803." This is not a
grant of power. On the contrary, it is a restriction imposed upon power
assumed to exist. The language of the clause takes it for granted that Con-
greea had power to prohibit the migration and the importation of slaves; a
power doubtless conferred by the authority " to regulate commerce with
foreign nations and among the several States;" for, whether slaves are to
be regarded as persons or as property, commerce of necessity relates to
both. This clause of the Constitution, therefore, imposes upon the authority
of Congress to prohibit the migration or importation of slaves a specific and
a limited restriction; namely, that this power should not be e\< Tei>ed over
any of the States then cxistintjj prior to the year 1808. Over any State not
then existing, ami, by still stronger implication, over any to-ritories of the
United States, the exercise of its authority was unrestricted; and it might

. THE PITTSBURG ADDRESS : — 185C. 379

prohibit the migration or importation of slaves into them, at any time, in its
own discretion.

Nor do an}- considerations connected with alleged rights of property in
slaves contravene the existence or the exercise of this authority. The Con-
stitution does not recognize slaves as property, in any instance, or to any
extent. In the clause already cited, they are called ''persons." In the
clause iv>pecting their escape into other States, they are to be returned, not
as property, but as "persons held to service or labor." And iu the appor-
tionment of representation and of direct taxes, it is provided by the Consti-
tution that to the whole number of free persons are to be added three-fifths
of all other " persons." In all its provisions -which have reference to slaves,
they are described and regarded as persons. The idea of their being prop-
erty is carefully and intentionally excluded. If they are property at all,
therefore, it is not by virtue of the Constitution, but of local laws, and only
within their jurisdiction. The local laws of any State are excluded from the
territories of the United States, by the necessity of the case as well as by
the exclusive sovereignty conferred upon Congress.

THE PLEA OF POPULAR SOVEREIGXTT.

Failing thus to establish the right of the slaveholder to carry his slaves as
property, by virtue of the Constitution, into territory belonging to the
United States, the slaveholding interest has been compelled to claim, for the
inhabitants of the territories themselves, the right to provide for excluding
or admitting slavery, as a right inherent in their sovereignty over their own
a flairs. This principle of popular sovereignty, as it is styled, was embodied
in the bills for organizing New Mexico and Utah, and is made the substitute
for the prohibition of slavery in the Missouri Compromise, which it repealed :
and the slaveholding interest is now sustained by the Federal Government
in this new position, as it has been in all the positions it has Mieces-ivcly
assumed. The principle of popular sovereignty is fundamental in our insti-
tutions. No one doubts that the people are sovereign over all the terri-
. as well as over all the States of the Confederacy. 15ut this -
. is subject to limitation and definition, and can only exist within the
limitations of the Constitution. The people are sovereign in the House of
Representatives; but their sovereignty may be overruled by the Senate, or
••d by the veto of the President. The States are sovereign ; but only
within certain limits, and in subordination to the sovereignty of the nation.
Two sovereign: ies ,1Ver the same country, and on the same subject, it is
manifest, cannot coexist ; one must of necessity exclude the other. But the
,!ution. in express and unmistakable terms, makes Congress sovereign
i>\ conferring upon it power to make "all needful rules

and regulation- ni; them." The doctrine of popular sovereignty in

the people of the territories finds no warrant or support in the Constitution.
In the lan-ua^e of Mr. Calhoun, "it involves an absurdity; if the sover-
tj over the territories be in their inhabitants, instead of the United
States, they would cease to be territories of the United Slates the moment
we permit, them to be inhabited." So loin; as they remain territories they
are the possession and under the exclusive dominion of the United States;

380 APPENDIX.

and it is for the General Government to make such laws for them as their
welfare, and tha.t of the nation, may require.

We deny that Congress may abdicate a portion of its authority, and com-
mit to the inhabitants of a territory powers conferred upon it by the Consti-
tution. Such an abdication is an abandonment of duty, and cannot be justi-
fied on the pretended principle of popular sovereignty. That principle,
indeed, is discarded in the very act of Congress in which it is claimed to be
embodied. If sovereignty exists, it must be exercised through the organized
departments of government: the legislative, executive, and judicial. l3ut
the act to organize the Territories of Kansas and Nebraska, prescribes the
requisites of citizenship and the qualifications of voters, confers upon the
President and Senate the appointment of a Governor, who is clothed with
the veto power, and of judges by whom the common law shall be inter-
preted. Each department of the government thus rests virtually in the
power of the President of the United States. To style the small remnant of
power which such a law leaves to the people " popular sovereignty," is an
abuse of language, and an insult to common sense. Yet even this has been
effectually destroyed by the General Government in their high-handed en-
deavor to force slavery into Kansas against the will of the hardy settlers
who have made it their home.

This whole system of doctrine by which slavery seeks possession of the ter-
ritories of the United States, either by asserting the sovereignty of their
inhabitants, or by denying the power of Congress to exclude and prohibit
slavery from them, is novel and alien to the principles and the administration
of our government. Congress has always asserted and exercised the right
of prohibition. It was exercised by the vote of the First Congress, in 1789,
reaffirming the ordinance of the old Confederacy by which slavery was pro-
hibited from the territory north-west of the Ohio River. It was exercised in
1820, in the prohibition of slavery from the Louisiana Territory north of 36°
3(X. It was exercised in 1848, when slavery was prohibited from the Terri-
tory of Oregon.

Nor is it in the least degree impaired by the argument that these "territo-
ries, when they become States, and are admitted into the Union, can estab-
lish or prohibit slavery, in their discretion. Their rights as States do not
begin until their obligations as territories end. The Constitution knows
nothing of "inchoate States." Congress has power to make "all needful
rulesiand regulations " for them as territories, until they are admitted into
the Union as members of the common Confederacy.

GENERAL TENDENCY OF FEDERAL LEGISLATION ON THE SUBJECT OF SLAVERY.

In all these successive acts, in the admission of Missouri and of Arkansas,
in the annexation of Texas, and the provision for admitting four new States
from her territory, in the war of Mexico and the conquest of her provinces,
in the repeal of the Missouri Compromise, and in the cruel war now waged
against the people of Kansas for the extension of slavery into that territory,
we trace the footsteps of a powerful interest, aiming at absolute political
power, and striding onward to a complete ascendency over the General Gov-
ernment. It finds powerful allies, and an open field in the political arena, for

THE PITTSBURO ADDRESS: — 1856. 381

the prosecution of its purposes. Always acting as a compact unit, it finds its
opponents divided by a variety of interests. Partisan alliances and personal
ambitions liavo hitherto prevented any union against I:-, .iiri-'re-sions; and
not feeling or fearing the di-pleastire of their constituents, representatives
from the free States have been induced to aid in the promotion of i
All other interests have been compelled to give way before it. The repre-
sentatives of freedom on the floors of Congress have been treated with con-
tumely, if they resist or question the right to supremacy of the slaveholding
class. The labor and the commerce of sections where slavery does not e.\i>t
obtain tardy and inadequate recognition from the General Government,
which is swayed by its influence, and for the accomplishment of its ends.
The Executive of the nation is the willing servant cf its behests, and sacri-
fices to its favor the rights and the interests of the country. The purse and
the sword of the nation are at its command. A hundred millions of dollars
were expended in the annexation of Texas, and the war with Mexico, which
was a part of its price. Two hundred millions have been offered for Cuba,
and war with all Europe is threatened, if necessary, to prevent the emanci-
pation of its slaves. Thus is the decision of great questions of public policy,
touching vast interests and vital rights, — questions even of peace and of
war, — made to turn, not upon the requirements of justice and honor, but
upon its relation to the subject of slavery, — upon the effect it will have
upon the interest of the slave-holding class.

The people of the free States have cherished the hope that the efforts made
to extend slavery, which have fallen under their notice, were accidental, and
indicative of weakness rather than ambition. They have trusted that the
sagacious statesmen of the slaveholding States would gradually perceive
and acknowledge the inconvenience and danger of slavery, and would take
such measures as they might deem wise and safe for its ultimate removal.
They have feared the effect of agitation upon this subject, relied upon the
good faith and honor of the slaveholding States, and believed that time, the
natural growth of population, and the recognized laws of political and social
economy, would gradually and peacefully work out the extinction of a sys-
tem so repugnant to justice and the national character and welfare. It has
seemed to tlieui incredible, that in this late age, when Christianity has for
near two thousand years been filling the world with its light, and when
almost, every nation on earth but our own has abolished chattel slavery, the
effort slum hi be made, or the wish cherished, by any portion of our people, to
make the interest of slavery predominant, and to convert this Republic, the
only government which professes to be founded upon human rights, into the
mightiest slave empire the world has ever seen. But it is impossible to de-
ceive ourselves longer. The events of the past two years have disclosed the
designs of the - r, and the desperate means it is prepared to 01

their aecomplisl > •. v.v .• mnot shut our eyes longer to the fact that the

.slaveholding interest is determined to counteract the tendencies offline and
of eivili/.ation, by its own energy, by its bold appropriation of all the powers
and agencies of the government, and by the violation, if need be. of the
most sacred compacts and compromises. It, is resolved that slavery shall be
under the protection of the national Hag; that it shall no longer be the
creature of l.^al law, but that it shall stand clothed with all the sanctions,

APPENDIX.

and sustained by all the power, of this great Republic. It is determined that
the President shall do its bidding, and that Congress shall legislate accord-
ing to its decrees. It is resolved upon the dethronement of the principles
of Republicanism, and the establishment, in their stead, of an OLIGARCHY
bound together by a common interest in the ownership of slaves.

Nor have we any reason to believe that slavery will be content with this
absolute supremacy over the Federal Government, which it has already so
well-nigh achieved/ On the contrary, the dark shadow of its sceptre falls upon
the sovereignty of the several States, and menaces them witli dire disaster.
South Carolina, abandoning her once-cherished doctrine of State Rights,
asserts the Federal supremacy over laws made by States, exclusively for the
protection of their citizens. The State of Virginia is contesting in courts of
law the right of the State of New York to forbid the existence of slavery
within her limits. A Federal Court in Pennsylvania lias denied the right of
that State to decree freedom to slaves brought by their masters within her
borders, and has proclaimed that slavery exists by the law of nations. The
division of California, and the organization of a slave State within her limits,
have been proposed. A Senator oil the floor of Congress has urged that the
government of the United States should no longer restrain, by its naval
power, the African slave-trade, and the demand for its restoration is openly
made by Southern journals and by leading public men in the Southern
States.

When these great objects shall have been acomplished, — when the States,
as well as the General Government, shall have become subject to the law of
slavery, and when three hundred and fifty thousand slaveholders shall hold
despotic rule over the millions of this Republic, — slavery cannot fail, from the
necessity of its nature, to attempt outrages which will awaken storms that
will sweep it in carnage from the face of the earth. The longer tyranny is
practised unresisted, the fiercer and the more dreadful is the resistance which
in the end it provokes. History is full of instances to prove that nothing is
so dangerous as a wrong long unredressed; that evils, which at the outset
it would have been easy to remove, by sufferance become fatal to those
through whose indifference and toleration they have increased. The ten-
dencies of the measures adopted by the slaveholdiug interests to secure its
own extension through the action of the Federal Government, is to give to
Congress jurisdiction of the general subject; and its representatives must be
sagacious enough to perceive, that if they establish the principle that Con-
gress may interfere with slavery for its protection, it may'interfere with it
also for its destruction. If, therefore, they succeed in such an enlargement
of the power of Congress, — having already discarded the principle of com-
promise from legislation, — they must foresee that the natural ell'rct of their
encroachments upon the rights and liberties of the non-slavehoUling popula-
tion of the country will be to arouse them to the direct exercise of i lie power
thus placed in their hands. Whether it is safe or wise for that interest to
invite such a contest we need not here consider.

The time draws nigh, fellow-countrymen, when you will be called upon
decide upon the policy and the principles of the General Government. Your
votes at the approaching Presidential election will determine whether slavery
shall continue to be the paramount and' controlling influence in the Federal

THE PITTSBURG ADDRESS : — 1856.

Administration, or whether other rights and other interests shall resume the
decree of consideration to which they are entitled. The Imw i- upon us by
no act of ours, and it cannot be evaded. Under a profound conviction of
impending dangers, the ground-; whereof we have now set forth, we call upon
you to deliver the Constitution and the Union from the subjugation which
threatens both. Holding, with the late Mr. Calhoun, that "the obligation to
repel air-re-sion is not much less solemn than that of abstaining from mak-
ing amiciv-Mon, and that the party which submits to it, when it can be
d. is not imich less guilty and responsible for consequences than that
which makes it," we invoke a surrender of all party prejudices and all per-
sonal feelings, and a cordial and earnest union for the vindication of rights
and liberties which we cannot surrender without degradation and shame.
We summon you to send delegates, in numbers three times as large as your
representation in Congress, to meet in Convention at Philadelphia, on the
17th day <>f June next, to nominate candidates for the Presidency and Vice-
Presidency of the United States. Let them come prepared to surrender all
personal preferences and all sectional or local views, — resolved only to
make such nominations and to take such action as shall advance the princi-
ples we hold and the purposes we seek to promote. Disclaiming any inten-
tion to interfere with slavery in the States where it exists, or to invalidate
those portions of the Constitution by which it is removed from the national
control, let us prevent the General Government from its ascendency, bring
back its administration to the principles and the practice of its wise and illus-
trious founders, and thus vindicate the Constitution and the Union, and
secure the blessings of LIBERTY to ourselves and our posterity.

We do, therefore, declare to the people of the United States, as objects
for which we unite in political action: —

1. We demand and shall attempt to secure the repeal of all laws which
allow the introduction of slavery into territories once consecrated to freedom,
and will resist by every constitutional means the existence of slavery in any
of the territories of the United Stat

L'. We will support, by every lawful means, our brethren in Kansas in their
constitutional and manly resistance to the usurped authority of their la
invaders, and will give the full weight of our political power in favor of the
immediate admission of Kansas to the Union as a free, sovereign, and inde-
pendent State.

::. Relieving that the present National Administration lias shown itself to

ik and faithless, and that its continuance in power is identified with

the progress of the slave power to national supreinacv. with the exclusion of

freedom from the territory, and with increasing civil discord, it is a leading

purpos,. of our organi/.atiou to oppose and overthrow it.

(in motion of .Jin !•.:>• Spaulding, of Ohio, the Address was accepted and the
'.;it ions adopted by a unanimous vote, accompanied with nine che>

APPENDIX C.
DISUNION AND SLAVERY.

MR. RAYMOND'S LETTERS TO w. L. YANCEY, OF ALABAMA.

I. THE NORTHERN STATES AND THE SLAVE-TRADE IN 1867.

NEW YORK, Nov. 23, 1860.

HON. "W. L. YANCEY : Sir, — I have read your reply of Nov. 9 to an edi-
torial article in the Times of October 27, in which you claim to have cor-
rected what you style the " hostile and malignant criticisms of two lead-
ing editors in the black Republican cause, namely, Mr. Thurlow Weed and Mr.
Henry J. Raymond," — upon your speeches in the North during the recent
Presidential canvass. As you have thus given the matter a personal direc-
tion, you will excuse me for giving you a personal answer.

Let me say, in the first place, that you have no right to characterize those
criticisms as either " hostile or malignant." They are perfectly fair and le-
gitimate comments upon public speeches on public topics. Of all men, you
should be the last to reproach your political opponents at the North with dis-
courtesy. You spoke in nearly all our principal cities, to large audiences,
two-thirds of whom had not the slightest sympathy with jrour views, or the
least respect for the object you sought to accomplish. But you were heard
with the most respectful attention. In no instance was there the slightest
indication of personal disrespect; in no case were you interrupted, or even
questioned on any point. You were heard everywhere with just as much def-
erence and courtesy, as if every word you uttered had accorded fully with the
opinions and sentiments of those you addressed. If you will contrast this
reception with that which would have greeted any one of your opponents, who
should attempt to address the people of your own section on the same sub-
ject, you will find no ground for claiming superiority over us in the matter
of courtesy.

The object of your visit to the North was to vindicate the claim put forth
by Southern politicians, of the right to increase and extend the institution
of slavery. You attempted this, in your speeches, first, by showing, as a
matter of history, that the frainers of the Constitution regarded the increase
of slavery as desirable for the country, and made specific provision for it in
the Constitution itself; and, secondly, by showing, as a matter of statistics,
that slavery is a benefit to the States in which it exists, and to the North

381

DISUNION AND BLAVKKV. 385

through its trade with those States. Under the first head you asserted that
M:i>-:iHmsetts " took the lead," in the Convention that framed the Constitu-
tion, in "insisting" that the slave-trade should not be prohibited until 1808,
and afterwards in placing this clause beyond the reach of amendment. I
have characterized this assertion as a perversion of the facts of history ; —
and your letter, of November y, is an attempt to vindicate your assertion
against this criticism. It is not enough for you to show that Massachusetts
assented to these measures. No one disputes or doubts that fact, — nor did
we need a missionary from Alabama to inform us of it. Your assertion was
much broader, and its object was very different. You represented that Mas-
sachusetts, as the head of the Northern Colonies, " insisted" on continuing
tin- slave-trade for twenty years longer, for the specific purpose of " widen-
ing the basis of slavery." and " increasing the number of slaves," while Vir-
ginia, as the head of the Southern Colonies, resisted the attempt. And you
made this representation for the purpose of basing upon it the appeal to the
people of the North, that, as tin !>• lathers had thus clearly declared their ap-
proval of slavery, and provided for its increase, — and had forced this in-
crease upon the South. — it was unjust for them, their descendants, to de-
nounce and restrict it now.

Now. 1 did say that this line of argument showed that you were cither
very imperfectly informed in the history of the country, or very reckless and
unscrupulous in the statement of facts. The first horn of the dilemma I
abandon. Your quotations from the Madison Papers, and the sagacious
manner in which you have weeded out from the passages relating to this
question everything which makes against your position, show that you are
not "imperfectly informed " on this subject. Nor is it quite fair to say that
you are "reckless and unscrupulous" in your statements. Those moods
imply a certain degree of indifference as to the truth or falsehood of state-
ments made : while you arc exceedingly careful, first to make a statement
which is exactly the opposite 6f the truth, and then to make it plausible by
scrupulously falsifying the public records by which it is to be tested. That
I have full warrant for this serious charge, I shall prove by appending to this

the full debate on that clause of the Constitution which relates to the
prohibition of the slave-trade, on which yon base your statement, and from
which you have pn. tended in your letter to quote evidence of its truth. You
me of having iriven •' garbled extracts" from that debate. In order
to show at . who-e door that c'large ju.-tly lies, I copy your letter, including
the debate as you have pn>!ev-cd to quote it.

Now, you will see from this record, what you very well knew before, that
neither Massachusetts, nor any oilier Northern State. •• i./xi*:< d " that the
slave-trade should not be prohibited by Congress until 1<OS ; that, on the con-
trary, they demanded that the. General Government should have pov.
prohibit it I that they yielded their consent to its continuance for

twenty years, only to threats of secession on the part of South Carolina and
Georgia, and for the purpose of securing the adhesion of tho«.e States to the
Tnlon. Mr. 1'inckncy in that debate declared "South Carolina can never

e the plan if it prohibits the slave-trade." Gen. Pim-kney said he
" should consider the rejection of the clause as an i. relation of South C<in>Una
from the 1'nwn." "Mr. Baldwin, of Georgia, said, " Georgia was decided on

386 APPENDIX.

this point," and that " it might be understood in what light she would view
an attempt to abridge one of her favorite prerogatives." Mr. Williamson, of
North Carolina, " thought the Southern States could not lie members of the
Union if the clause should be rejected. Mr. Rutledge said, " If the Convention
thinks that North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia will ever agree to the
plan, unless their right to import slaves be untouched, the expectation is vain."
Those quotations are all from the debate on this proposition. These dec-
larations were made by leading Southern men, and were the turning-points
of the action of the Convention upon that clause. Yet you have not quoted
a single one of them in your citations from that debate. Why not? Be-
cause they would have rendered it impossible for you to attribute this action
of the Convention, and of the Northern States, to the motive you had as-
signed, namely, a desire to continue the slave-trade, in order to " increase
the number of slaves," and widen " the basis of slavery." If you had quoted
them, they would have furnished the explanation of the sentences you quote
from New England men. They would have shown that not a single man from
Massachusetts, or any other Northern colony, said one solitary syllable in
favor of slavery, or of continuing the slave-trade; and that their only mo-
tive for assenting to it at all was the fear that without such assent the for-
mation of the Union would be impossible. And to induce them still further
to yield their hostility to it, the Southern delegation held out hopes that if
the matter were left open, the Southern States themselves might prohibit the
traffic. Mr. Pinckney said, " If the Southern States are left alone, they will
probably of themselves stop importations; and again, "If the States be
left at liberty on this subject, South Carolina may, perhaps, by degrees do,
of herself, what is wished, as Virginia and Maryland have already done." Mr.
Baldwin said of Georgia, "If left to herself she may probably put a stop to
the evil." It was by such alternate threats and promises that the Northern
delegates were induced to assent to the compromise proposed by the com-
mittee to which the subject was recommitted, — namely, that the trade should
not be prohibited before 1800, — and also to the amendment offered by Mr.
Pinckney, of South Carolina, making it 1808.

It is impossible to suppose that you were ignorant of these facts, or
that you could possibly have mistaken the motive of this action of the North-
ern delegates.

You quote from TCufus King the remark that " the subject should be con-
sidered in a political light only," and draw the inference that he and his
State, as well as Connecticut, were indifferent to its moral aspects, which
Virginia urged so warmly. You say : —

" The prohibition was warmly supported on moral grounds by Virginia, and Connecti-
cut immediately pronounced, ' Lot every State import what it pleases,' — while Massachu-
setts ably seconded Connecticut that it was ' to be considered in a political light only.' "

This is a very adroit management of words, true in themselves, but so ar-
ranged as to convey a very gross and palpable falsehood. You represent
Connecticut as following the moral protest of Virginia, by the exclamation,
" Let every State import what it pleases." as if protesting against that moral
view of the case, — whereas Mr. Ellsworth used those words after Mr. Rut-

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 387

led UP, of South Carolina, had declared that "religion and humanity had
nothing to do with this question,'' and that " the true question is whether the
Southern Slates shall or shall not be parties to the Union; and he added,

,lvo to his own mind, " the morality or wisdom of slavery are consid-
eration-, brlouiiinn to the Stai< !vrs." Mr. King's remark was not

until tin- next day, and then related to what had been said of the re-
fusal of South Carolina and (Ji-orgiu to join the Union, instead of anything that
had been said on behalf of Connecticut. If you had any desire to submit Mr.
King's sentiments on this whole subject, why did you not quote what he said
upon it on the 8th of August, when the question of representation was under
debate?

" Mr. King had hoped that some accommodation would have taken place on this subject;
that at least a lime would have been limited fur the importation of slaves. He never could
ayree to let them be impirtcd without limitiition, and then be represented in the National Legis-
lature. Indeed he could so little persuade himself of the rectitude of such a practice, that he vxu
ft he could assent to it under any circumstances." — [Madison Papers, III., 1262.]

Yon quote Gov. Morris, of Pennsylvania, as proposing to recommit the
clause for the purpose of making a bargain between the North and South,
and snri-rmiily say it was made a "subject of trade, and not of moral specu-
lation." Let me commend to any to whom you may have given such an
impression of his views, the following speech made by him on the same sub-
ject and on the same occasion : —

From the Madison. Papers, Vol. III., page 12G3.

Mr. Gouverncnr Morris moved to insert "free" before the word "inhabitants."
Much, ho said, would depend on this point. He never vnuld concur in upholding domestic
slavery. It was a nefarious institution. It was the curse of Heaven on the States where it
prevailed. Compare the free regions of the Middle States, where a rich and noble cultiva-
tion marks tin- prosperity and happiness of the people, with the misery and poverty which
overbroad the barren wa<te of Virginia, Maryland, and the other States having slaves.
Travel through tlio whole continent, and you behold the prospect continually varying with
the appearance unJ disappearance of slavery. The moment you leave the Eastern States,
and enter New York, the effects of the institution become visible. Passing through the
and entering Pennsylvania, every criteri-m of superior improvement witnesses the
change. Proceed southwardly, and every step you take, through the great regions of
ing with the increasing proportion of these wretched beings,
-hall be computed in the representation? Are

Then make them citizens and let them vote. Are they property? Why,

ther property included? The houses in this city (Philadelphia) are worth

•••.in all tho wn-t • wln> cover the rice-swamps of South Carolina. The

- into tin- representation, when fairly explained, comes to this: that tho

inhabit 1 South Carolina who goes to tho coast of Africa, and in defiance of

the nio.-t sacred law.* of humanity tears away his fellow-creatures from their dearest con-

: • laiiin* them to a most eruel i ill have more votes in a government

instituted for protection of tho rights of mankind, than tho citizen of Pennsylvania or

trith a Inudable horror so nefarious a practice, lie would add that

most prominent feature in the aristocratio countenance of tho

Hsalage of the poor has ever been the favorite ofi&pring of

; acy. And what is tho proposed compensation to the Northern States for a sacrifice

388 APPENDIX.

of every principle of right, of every impulse of humanity ? They are to bind themselves to
march their militia for the defence of the Southern States, for their defence against these
very slaves of whom they complain. They mast supply vessels and seamon ia case of
foreign attack. The Legislature will have indefinite power to tax them by excises and
duties on imports, both of which will fall heavier on them than on the Southern inhabi-
tants ; for the Bohea tea used by a Northern freeman will pay more tax than the whole
consumption of the miserable slave, which consists of nothing more than his physical sub-
sistence and the rag that covers his nakedness. On the other side, the Southern States are
not to be restrained from importing fresh supplies of wretched Africans, at once to increase
the danger of attack and the difficulty of defence ; nay, they are to be encouraged to it, by an
assurance of having their votes in the National Government increased in proportion, and
are at the same time to have their exports and their slaves exempt from all contributions
for the public service. . Let it not be said that direct taxation is to be proportioned to
representation. It is iJlo to suppose that the General Government can stretch its hand
directly into the pockets of the people, scattered over so vast a country. They can only do
it through the medium of exports, imports, and excises. For what, then, are all the sacri-
fices to be made ? lie would sooner submit himself to a tax for paying for all the negroes in the
United States, than saddle posterity with such a Constitution.

Does that look like making this a " subject of trade" merely ? Does that
look like " insisting " on a continuance of the slave-trade for twenty years ?

But I have said quite enough to show tho utter falsity of your assertion
that Massachusetts, as the head of the Northern Colonies, "insisted that the
slave-trade should not be prohibited by Congress until 1808," in order to
"Increase the number of slaves, and to widen the basis of slavery." A few
words now upon the other branch of this assertion, namely, that it was done
against the wish of Virginia, as the representative of the Southern Colonies,
and thus forced upon them.

It is true, and is greatly to her honor, that Virginia did resist the continu-
ance of the slave-trade. She had prohibited that traffic for herself, and
urged its prohibition for all the States. But she did not do this as "the
head of the Southern Colonies ; " she was not acting on their behalf, nor had
she their support. On the contrary, she was denounced, and her motives for
it assailed then, as they have been since. " As to Virginia," says Gen.
Pinckney, "she will gain by stopping the importation. Her slaves will rise
in value, and she has more than she wants." This is very much in the vein
of South Carolina comments upon Virginia now. It is quite in the spirit of
your remarks at Montgomery, in 1858, when you advocated the reopening of
the slave-trade, and denounced the "old fogies" of Virginia — Jefferson,
Madison and others — who "held opinions on this subject which are not
now considered sound."

How the other Southern Colonies regarded the proposition to prohibit the
slave-trade has been made apparent already. Maryland and Virginia had
abolished the t raffle. Delaware had none to abolish. The only other South-
ern Colonies were North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia; and they
distinctly refused to join the Union, if Congress were clothed with power to
prohibit the slave-tiade. And it was that threat which induced Massachu-
setts and the other Northern Colonies to assent to the compromise proposed
by the committee.

So much for the manner in which this clause came into the Constitu-

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 389

tlon. If historical records prove anything, they prove that it was Inserted
on the demand of the principal Southern Colonies, backed by a threat of
secession if it were not granted; and that Massachusetts and the other
Northern Colonies conceded it solely and -exclusively for the sake of securing
the adherence of those colonies to the Union. Gen. Pinckney, in Conven-
tion, acknowledged "the liberal conduct" of the Eastern States on this
occasion, and was willing to return it by concessions on the subject of
commerce. You, on the contrary, attempt to distort it into an endorsement
of slavery and an approval of the slave-trade. I submit to the public judg-
ment whether you do not thus convict yourself of being utterly " unscrupu-
lous " in the use of historical facts.

Now I might very well stop here, for what I have already said covers the
ground of your letter. It settles the question as to the part taken by the
Northern and Southern Colonies respectively in regard to the slave-trade,
ami the motives by which each section was actuated. But as that was only
an incidental point in your speech, permit me to refer to the other branch of
your main argument and the practical policy which it was intended to support.

You have been engaged now for several years in the endeavor to secure the
repeal of the laws of Congress prohibiting the slave-trade, and to restore the
full freedom of that traffic to the Southern States. At the South you arc
seeking' to accomplish that result — precisely as South Carolina and Georgia
sought the continuance of the trade in the Federal Convention — by menaces of
disunion. At the North you hefd a different language. You asserted that
the Fathers of the Republic, — the framers of the Constitution, — deeming an
increase of slavery desirable, provided for it by keeping the slave-trade open
until 1808. I have shown how utterly baseless — how wanton a perversion
of historical fact — that statement is, so far as Massachusetts and the other
Northern Colonies were concerned. I could prove, by a similar array of
equally conclusive testimony, that the statement is just as false, so far as it
a»i--iis a motive to the action of the other colonies and to the leading states-
men of the whole country. You, probably, are not ignorant of the fact that
on (lie 20th of October, 1774, the Continental Congress passed a preamble
and resolutions solemnly pledging themselves, " under the sacred ties of
virtue, honor, and love of our country,"

" That we will neither import nor purchase any slave imported after the first day of December
next; — after which time we will wholly discontinue the slave-trade, and icill neither be concerned
in it uursrlvrs, nor will we hire our vessels nor sell our commodities or manufactures to those who
are roncrrnrd in it."

Tliis was the tone and temper of the people at the outset of our national
career. It was the policy which the framers of the Constitution desired to
adopt. It was the same sentiment which prompted Mason and Morris and
llufus King an. I Luther Martin to denounce slavery as a curse to the
country, and to insist that the General Government should have power to
check its growth by prohibiting its increase and stopping the slave-trade at
once and forever. Hut it is unnecessary to quote their declarations or enter
upon any further historical inquiry on this subject. Yon have yourself con-
ceded that the main obstacle which you encounter in your efforts to secure

390 APPENDIX.

the reopening of the slave-trade lies in the fact that the fathers of the
Eepublic were opposed to it. I have before me a copy of the speech made
by you in the Southern Commercial Convention, held in Montgomery, May,
1858, on the subject of reopening the African slave-trade; and in that speoch
I find you saying : —

" If it were not for the names of Madison, Randolph, Mason, and others whoso names
have been quoted in order to frown down the presumption of a young man at this day for
pretending to understand this subject, I would even now throw the lance of debate to any
gentleman to stand up here and maintain that these laws were constitutional per se. I
would to God every countryman of mine was disposed to judge of the issues between the
North and South for himself, that the opinions of old fogydom could be utterly wiped out.
. . . Will my friend (Mr. Pryor) now say that Mr. Jefferson, in his political
ethics on slavery, was right ? He cannot say so. Mr. Jefferson thought it would weaken
the South, and, therefore, he was for the entire prohibition of the slave-trade. The distin-
guished, venerable, practical, and philosophical gentleman from Virginia (Mr. Ruffin)
knows that Mr. Jefferson was wrong in his ideas about slavery. I need not expatiate on that
subject, because it is a matter of history known to ever3'body. If that was the fact, there
was among the framers of the Constitution, who were true to us in all the interests of the
white man, a sentiment in relation to slavery that is not entertained now.

' ' Mr. PRYOR. — That is true.

' ' Mr. YAXCEY. — That is all I ask. Then I say that the old fogies of that day entertained
opinions in relation to slavery, which we of this day are unanimously agreed were not sound.
. . If I could get this body to divest themselves of the shackles that Madison, Jeffer-
son and Mason have thrown about them concerning slavery, and could get them to
understand that South Carolina is against any, even the most limited, prohibition of the slave-
trade, I should not fear their unbiased judgment."

So much for the historical part of the argument by which you endeavored
to convince the people of the North that slavery ought to be increased.

Your next point was to prove by statistics that slavery is a great blessing
to the country, because it had made the South much richer than free labor
had made the North. And your argument was this : The wealth of any
country is measured by its exports, — that is, by the surplus of its products
after its own wants have been supplied out of them. Now the South exports
annually of her products to the amount of two hundred million dollars, while
the North exports of hers only a little over one hundred million dollars.
Therefore, the South, which depends upon slave labor, is nearly twice as
rich as the North, which relies upon free labor. Without entering upon any
detailed examination of this point (although the more closely it is examined
the more clearly will its sophistry appear), it is enough to say that the fallacy
Ites in your skilful manipulation of the word exports. The exports of the
North do really and truly measure the surplus products of the North ; but the
South exports her whole crop. She does not consume any of her cotton at
home, — or at least not enough to affect the argument ; she exports the whole
of it. Yet all the supplies which she draws from the North, — her cotton
goods, her manufactured woollens, her plantation tools, her tea, silks, and
imported luxuries, a very large proportion of her bacon, her beef, and other
provisions, — all these are paid for out of the proceeds of her cotton crop, and
generally in advance. She sends that crop to market burdened with the debt
incurred for these supplies. Before she can claim that crop as exports, — that

DISUNION AND SLAVERY.

Is, as the surplus of her own consumption, — she must deduct that debt.
Now you go on to state, in these very speeches, that these domestic pur-
chases made at the North, to supply the wants of the Southern States,
amount to nearly two hundred millions of dollars every year. Deduct that
amount from the exports of the South, and then see how much you will
have left, as the measure of the wealth of the Southern States.

But I shall not extend this letter, likely at best to be much too long, by
any further comments upon this point. I send you with it the report of a
speech made by me during the canvass at Rochester, in which I have treated
it somewhat more fully.

Leaving this branch of the subject, therefore, I propose'to say something
of the DISUNION MOVKMKXT now in progress, of which I consider you, to a
greater degree than any other man now living, the author and the head. As
I desire to treat it somewhat fully, — more so than the limits left me in this
communication will permit, — I shall make it the subject of a second letter.

THE DEBATE IN THE CONVENTION OF 1787, ON THE PROHIBITION OF
THE SLAVE-TRADE.

From the Madison Papers, Vol. III., page 1388, et seq.

TUESDAY, Aug. 21.

Mr. L. MARTIN, of Maryland, proposed to vary article 7, section 4, so as to allow a pro-
hibition or tax on the importation of slaves. In the first place, as five slaves arc to be
counted as three freemen, in the apportionment of representatives, such a clause would
leave an encouragement to this' traffic. In the second place, slaves weakened one part of
the Union, which the, other parts were bound to protect; the privilege of importing them
was, therefore, unreasonable. And, in the third place, it was inconsistent with the princi-
thc Revolution, and dishonorable to the American character, to have such a feature
in tho Constitution.

Mr. i t' South Carolina, did not see how the importation of slaves could be

encouraged by tlii- Ilo was not apprehensive of insurrection, and would readily

exempt tlii' other States from tho obligation to protect the Southern against them. Reli-
gion ami humanity hud nothing to do with this question. Interest alone is the governing
principle with nations. Tin.- true question at present is, whither the Southern States shall or
sh-ill Hut In • ]inrtic.i t<) the Unim. If t alt their interest, they will not

-«• of slaves, which will increase the commodities of which they will be-
come t:

Mr. !' V.MS tor leaving tho clause as it stands. Let every

:i]>ort what it pieces. The morality or wNdom of .-l::very arc considerations behng-
iny t> tlir Stntm r What cm iches a |>.irt. enriches the wh«>le, and tho St:.'

the best judges of their particular interest. Tile old Confederation had not meddled with
this pi'int, and he did nut see any greater neees-ity for bringing it within the policy of the
new one.

Mr. I'INI KXKY, of South Carolina. — South Carolina can neverreceive the plan if it {inhibit*

thf xl'iv.-tr i,/.-. In every i>r<> -i-m of tho powei - Ue has

:y and watchful!.. : ;iat of meddling with the ii:ii> >rtuti"ii «'f negroes. If

392 APPENDIX.

the States be left at liberty on this subject, South Carolina may, perhaps, by degrees, do of
herself what is wished, as Virginia and Maryland have already done.
Adjourned.

WEDNESDAY, Aug. 22.

In Convention. — Article 7, Section 4, was resumed.

Mr. SHERMAN, of Connecticut, was for leaving the clause as it stands. He disapproved
of the slave-trade ; yet, as the States were now possessed of the right to import slaves, as
the public good did not require it to be taken from them, and as it was expedient to have
as few objections as possible to the proposed scheme of government, he thought it best to
leave the matter as we find it. He observed that the abolition of slavery seemed to be
going on in the United States, and that the good sense of tho several States would probably
by degrees complete it. He urged on the Convention the necessity of dispatching its
business.

Col. MASON, of Virginia. — This infernal traffic originated in the avarice of British
merchants. The British Government constantly checked the attempts of Virginia to put a
stop to it. The present question concerns not the imparting States alone, but the whole Union.
The evil of having slaves was experienced during the late war. Had slaves been treated
as they might have been by the enemy, they would have proved dangerous instruments in
their hauds. But their folly dealt by the slaves as it did by the tories. He mentioned
the dangerous insurrections of the slaves in Greece and Sicily ; and the instructions given
by Cromwell to the Commissioners sent to Virginia, to arm the servants and slaves in case
other means of obtaining its submission should fail. Maryland and Virginia, he said, had
already prohibited the importation of slaves expressly. North Carolina had done the same
in substance. All this would be in vain, if South Carolina and Georgia be at liberty to
import. The' Western people are already calling out for slaves for their new lands, and
will fill that country with slaves, if they can be got through South Carolina and Georgia.
Slavery discourages arts and manufactures. The poor despise labor when performed by
slaves. They prevent the emigration of whites, who really enrich and strengthen the
country. They produce the most pernicious effects on manners. Every master of slaves is
born a petty tyrant. They bring the judgment of Heaven on a country. As nations can-
not be rewarded or punished in the nest world, they must be in this. By an inevitable
chain of causes and effects, Providence punishes national sins by national calamities. He
lamented that some of our Eastern brethren had, from a lust of gain, embarked in this
nefarious traffic. As to the States being in possession of the right to import, this was the
case with many other rights, properly to be given up. He held it essential, in every point
of view, that the General Government should have power to prevent the increase of
slavery.

Mr. ELLSWORTH, of Connecticut, as he had never owned a slave, could not judge of the
effects of slavery on character. He said, however, that if it was to be considered in a
moral light, we ought to go further and free those already in the country. As slaves also
multiply so fast in Virginia and Maryland that it is cheaper to raise than import them,
whilst in the sickly rice-swamps foreign supplies are necessary, if we go no further than is
urged, wo shall be unjust towards South Carolina and Georgia. Let us not intermeddle.
As population increases poor laborers will be so plenty as to render slaves useless. Slnvrry,
.in time, will w>t be a speck in our country. Provision is already made in Connecticut for
abolishing it; and the abolition has already taken place in Massachusetts. As to the
danger of insurrection from foreign influence, that will become a motive of kind treatment
of the slaves.

Mr. PINOKXEY, of South Carolina. — If slavery be wrong, it is justified by the example
of all the world. He cited the case of Greece, Rome, and the other ancient States; tho
sanction given by France, Holland, and other modern States. In all ages one-half of man-
kind bad been slaves. If the Southern States wire Id «lme, they will probably of them.^lves

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 393

itrrp importations. Ho would, himself, as a citizen of South Carolina, veto for it An
attempt to take away tho right, as proposed, will produce serious objection* to the Constitution,
which ho wished to see adopted.

!'is-i KNKY, of South Carolina, declared it to be his firm opinion that if himself and
nil his colleagues were to sign the Constitution and use their personal influence, it would
be of no avail towards obtaining the assent of their constituents. South Carolina and
Georgia cannot do without slaves. As to Virginia, sho will gain by stopping the importa-
ti- n~. HIT slaves will rise in value, and sho bos more than sho wants. It would be
unequal to requiro South Carolina and Georgia to confederate on such unequal terms. lie
,-:ii'l tho royal assent, before the Revolution, had never been refused to South Carolina, as to
Virginia. lie contended that the importation of slaves would be for the interest of the
whole Union. Tho more slaves, the more produce to employ tho carrying trade; tho more
consumption also, and the more of this, tho moro revenue for the common treasury. Ho
admitted it to be reasonable that slaves should bo dutied like other imports; but should
consider a rejection of the clause as an exclusion of South Carolina from tho Union.

Mr. HALDWI.V, of Georgia, bad conceived national objects alone to bo before the Conren-
ti'in; not such as, like tho present, were of a local nature. Georgia was decided on this
;nint. That State has alwnys hitherto supposed a General Government to be the pursuit of
who wished to have a vortex for everything; that her distance would
preclude her from equal advantage; and that she could not prudently purchase it by yield-
ing national powers. From this it might bo understood in what light she would view an
attempt to abridge one of her favorite prerogatives. If left to herself she may probably put

a ttop to the evil. As one ground for this conjecture, ho took notice of tho sect of ,

which hu said was a respectable class of people, who carried their ethics beyond the mere
!y nf men, extending their humanity to tho claims of th<j whole anira;il creation.

.Mr. \Vn.soN, of Fen isylrania, observed that if South Carolina and Georgia were them-

•d to get rid of tho importation of slaves in a short ti:no, as had been sug-

,»ul<l never refuse to unite because the importation might be prohibited. As

::mds, all articles imported are to bo taxed. Slaves alone are exempt.

This is in fact, a l»>unty on that article.

Mr. (iKiiuY, <>f M:u-sachu-etts, thought wo had nothing to do with tho conduct of the
Suites its t" .-hives, lint i'ii /hi to be careful not to yive any sanction to it.

Mr. I1 ;' Delaware, eoii.-idrri-d it us inadmissible, on every principle of honor

and safety, that the importation ;is slaves should bo authorized to the States by the <
tutimi. '/'/!• trur ifurfti-in wis, wlnthir tin n>itimnl happiness wmld be promoted or impeded by
the importation ; and this ou^lit to lie left to the National Government, not to th

irly intere-teil. If K;ii;laiid and Franco permit slavery, slaves are, at the same

. -!u'l< d from both those kingdoms. Greece and Rome were made unhappy by their

slaves, lie e..uld not believe that tho Southern State- w> uld refuse to confederate on the

• apprehended; especially as tho power was not likely to bo immediately c.v
by the General Covernmcnt.

Mr. \Vn.i. i VMS. IN, of North Carolina, stated tho law of North Carolina on the subj
wit: that it did not directly prohibit tho importation of slaves. It imposed a duty of five
pound* on each -In iVoni Africa; ten pounds on . ueh from elsewhere; and fifty

pounds mi e:i.-h from :i Sfnto ttcensing manumission. Hu thought tho Southern States could
not bo members of the. 1 nioii. if the clause should bo rejected; and that it was wrong to
force anything down not absolutely necessary, and which any State nui-t disagree to.

Mr. KIN.;, of M assachusctts, thought the subject should be c. i-i.lered in a political light
(•illy. If two States will not agree to tho Constitution, as .-tated on one side, ho could
aflirm with equal belief, on tho other, that great and equal opposition vvciild b.- •

• ..(her States. He remarked on the exemption of slaves from duty, whilst every
other import was subjected to it, a< an inequality that could not fail to strike the com-
meivi-il .-.i^aeitjr of tho Northern and .Middle States.

394 APPENDIX.

Mr. LANGDON, of New Hampshire, was strenuous for giving the power to the General Gov-
ernment. He could not, with a good conscience, leave it with the States, who could then go on
with the traffic, without being restrained by the opinions here given, that they will themselves cease
to import slaves.

Gen. PINCKNEY, of South Carolina, thought himself bound to declare candidly, that he
did not think South Carolina would stop her importations of slaves in any short time, but
only stop them occasionally, as she now does. He moved to commit the clause that slaves
might be made liable to an equal tax with other imports, which he thought right, and
which would remove one difficulty that had been started.

Mr. RUTLEDGE, of South Carolina. — If the Convention thinks that North Carolina, South
Carolina, and Georgia will ever agree to the plan, unless their right to import slaves be untouched,
the expectation is vain. The people of those States will never be such fools as to give up so
important an interest. He was strenuous against striking out the section, and seconded the
motion of Gen. PINCKNEY for a commitment.

Mr. GjpuvERNEUR MORRIS, of Pennsylvania, wished the whole subject to be committed,
including the clause relating to taxes on exports, and to a navigation act. These things
may form a bargain among the Northern and Southern States.

Mr. BOTLER, of Georgia, declared that he never would agree to the power of taxing
exports.

Mr. SHERMAN, of Connecticut, said it was better to let the Southern States import slaves
than to part with them, if they made that a sine qua non. He was opposed to a tax on slaves
imported, as making the matter worse because it implied they were property. Ho acknowl-
edged that if the power of prohibiting the importation should be given to the General Gov-
ernment, it would be exercised. He thought it would be its duty to exercise the power.

Mr. HEED, of Delaware, was for the commitment, provided the clause concerning taxes
on exports should also bo committed.

Mr. SHERMAN, of Connecticut, observed that that clause had been agreed to, and there-
fore could not be committed.

Mr. RANDOLPH, of Virginia, was for committing, in order that some middle ground
might, if possible, be found. Ho could never agree to the clause as it stands. He would
sooner risk the Constitution. He dwelt on the dilemma to which the Convention was exposed.
By agreeing to the clause, it would revolt the Quakers, the Methodists, and many others in
the States having no slaves. On the other hand, two States might be lost to the Union.
Let us, then, he said, try the chance of a commitment.

On the question for committing the remaining part of sections 4 and 5 of article 7:
Connecticut, New Jersey, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia —
Ay, 7; New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, Delaware — No, 3; Massachusetts, absent.

[The whole subject was thus recommitted for the purpose of comiug to
some compromise.]

From. Madison Papers, Vol. III., page 1415.

FRIDAY, Aug. 24.

Gov. LIVINGSTON, of New Jersey, from the Committee of Eleven, delivered the following
rsport: —

" Strike out so much of the 4th section as was referred to the Committee, and insert,
' The migration or importation of such persons as the several States now existing shall
think proper to admit, shall not be prohibited by the Legislature prior to the year 1800.'"

From page 1427.

SATURDAY, Aug. 23.

The Report of the Committee of Eleven being taken up,
Gen. PINCKNEY, of South Carolina, moved to strike out the words, " the year eighteen

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 395

hundred," aa the year limiting the importation of slaves, and to insert the words, "the
year eighteen hundred and eight."

Mr. <m mi AX, of Massachusetts, seconded the motion.

Mr. MADISON, of Virginia. — Twenty years will produce all the mischief that can be
apprehended from the liberty to import slaves. So long a term will be more dishonorable
to the American character than to say nothing about it in the Constitution.

On the motion, which passed in the affirmative, New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connec-
ticut, Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia — Ay, 7; New Jersey, Pennsyl-
vania, Delaware, Virginia — No, 4.

Mr. GOVERNEUR MORRIS, of Pennsylvania, was for making the clause read at once, "the
importation of slaves into North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia, shall not be prohib-
ited, etc." This, he said, would be most fair, and would avoid the ambiguity by which, under
the power with regard to naturalization, the liberty reserved to the States might be de-
feated. He ictshtil it to be known, also, that this part of the Constitution was a compliance with
those States. If the change of language, however, should bo objected to by the members
from those States, he should not urge it.

Col. MASON, of Virginia, was not against using the term "slaves," but against naming
North Carolina, South Carolina, and Georgia, lest it should give offence to the people of those
States.

Mr. SHERMAN, of Connecticut, liked a description better than the term proposed, which
had been declined by the old Congress, and were not pleasing to some people.

Mr. CI.YMEK, of Pennsylvania, concurred with Mr. SHERMAN.

Mr. WILLIAMSON, of North Carolina, said that both in opinion and practice he was
against slavery, but thought it more in favor of humanity, from a view of all circum-
stances, to let in South Carolina and Georgia on those terms, than to exclude them from the
Union.

Mr. GOVERXEUR MORRIS, of Pennsylvania, withdrew his motion.

Mr. DICKINSON wished the clause to be confined to the States which had not themselves

prohibited the importation of slaves, and for that purpose moved to amend the clause, so as

i, " The ii!i|">rt;itiou of slaves into such of the States as shall permit the same, shall

not be prohibited by the Legislature of the United States until the year 1808; " which was

disagreed to, ntm con.

The first part of the report was then agreed to, amended as follows: "The migration or
importation of such persons as the several States now existing shall think proper to admit,
shall not be prohibited by the Legislature prior to the year 1808."

New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina,
Georgia — Ay, 7; Now Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Virginia — No, 4.

MR. YANCEFS LETTER ON THE PROHIBITION OF THE SLAVE-TRADE.

MR. TANCEY AND HIS ACCUSERS.

From the New York (Sunday) Herald, Nov. 18.

I-.OMERT, Ala., Nov. 9, 1860.

To Ih, /-.'./I/ T >>f thr HrnM : —

Since my return home, my attention has been called to an editorial article in the Ntm
York Timts, of Oct. 27, headed •• Mr. Yamvy on Mutters of Fact — The North and the
Slave-trade." The article purports to !»• a reply to assertions made in my speeches in New
York and Boston. Their siilotuiice will l>«> found in tho following quotations from those

-. In my speech in New York, I said: —

396 APPENDIX.

" Our forefathers were not only slaveholders, but imported slaves from Africa. Virginia
wished to suppress the trade, but Massachusetts and other States wished it to be carried on
[Laughter.] Massachusetts and those other States insisted that the slave-trade should not
be prohibited by any act of Congress, and resisted all attempts to prohibit it until the act
of Congress of 1808 was passed; for, by an article of the Constitution, which was beyond
the reach of Congressional amendment, it was provided by our forefathers that no change
should be made in the slave-trade until the year 1808. How did that sound with the
modern theorists as to the existence of an irrepressible conflict?" [Applause.]

In my speech at Boston, I said: —

" Well, then, your fathers, in demanding that the- slave-trade, which existed when the
Declaration of Independence was made, should be continued; in demanding that the insti-
tution of slavery, which existed when the Constitution was formed, should have a wider
basis; in demanding that slaves should be increased in number; in demanding that they
should have the privilege of trading in them, of buying them and selling them to our peo-
ple,— I ask you now candidly, did they not, in demanding all this, demand of their pos-
terity perfect good faith in securing the title to that property ? " [ " No ! " " Yes ! " ]

The editor of the Times asserts that " these statements show that the disunion orator is
either very imperfectly read in the history of our country, or very reckless and unscrupu-
lous in the statement of facts." The whole tenor and spirit of the article can be best
shown by the following extract : —

"It is true, as he alleges, that Virginia was opposed to the continuance of the slave-
trade, and we are sorry to say that this is the only truth contained in the statement."

The editor then proceeds to give garbled extracts from the debates in the Federal Conven-
tion, and adds his own weak attempts at argument to sustain his sweeping assertion. As
the point made by me is one of some importance in the present aspect of political affairs, I
ask the use of your almost universally read columns to spread my reply before the public.
Analyze my statements, and they will be found to consist of the following points: —

1. The slave-trade existed when the Declaration of Independence was made.

2. Virginia desired to have that trade suppressed.

3. "Massachusetts and other States wished it to be carried on."

4. No change was to be made in the slave-trade provision in the Constitution prior to
the year 1808.

These are the only matters stated as facts, and the truth of each and all, excepting that
numbered two, is unqualifiedly denied by the editor of the New York Times. I might
afford to leave the ignorance or mendacity of the editor of the Times to be judged of by
the public intelligence as to the first statement made by me; but as I have before me the
" Debates in the Federal Convention," from which he has made his quotations, I vdll
simply refer him to the 3d volume of the Madison Papers, page 1389, on which will be
found Mr. Sherman's (of Connecticut) statement: "As the States are now possessed of the
right to import slaves, as the public good did not require it to be taken from them, etc.,
he thought it best to leave the matter as we find it." In sustaining my position, numbered
three and four, I shall cite not merely what was said by certain delegates from some of the
States, but also what is far more pertinent to the argument: what the States did; what
they voted for and obtained. That is to be taken as the highest evidence of what each
State wished to record as its will and decision.

By reference to Madison's Papers, vol. 2, p. 1226, the draft of a Constitution will be
found as reported by the Committee of Detail. It did not provide for a prohibition or tax
on the importation of slaves. On this a debate sprang up. I quote from that debate the
views of leading delegates: —

Mr. L. MARTIX, of Maryland, proposed to vary article 7, section 4, so as to allow a pro-
hibition or tax on the importation of slaves. (Vol. 3, p. 1388.)

Mr. ELLSWORTH, of Connecticut, was for leaving the clause as it stands. Let every Stato

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 397

import what it pleases. The morality or wisdom of slavery are considerations belonging to
the States themselves. (Vol. 3, p. 1380.)

Mr. SHERMAN, of Connecticut, was for leaving the clause as it stands. (Vol. 3, p. 1390.)

Col. MASON, of Virginia. — He lamented that some of our Eastern brethren had, from a
lust of gain, embarked in this nefarious traffic. lie hold it essential, in every point of
view, that the General Government should have the power to prevent the increase of
slavery. (3d vol., p. 1390-1.)

Mr. ELLSWORTH, of Connecticut. — He said, however, that if it was to be considered in
a moral light, we ought to go further, and free those already in the country. As slaves
also multiply so fast in Virginia and Maryland that it is cheaper to raise than import
them, whilst in the sickly rice-swamps foreign supplies are necessary, if we go further than
is urged, we shall be unjust towards South Carolina and Georgia. Let us not intermeddle.
(3d vol., p. 1391.)

Mr. KINO, of Massachusetts, thought the subject should be considered in a political light
only. . . . He remarked on the exemption of slaves from duty, whilst every other
import was subjected to it, as an inequality that could not fail to strike the coninercial
sagacity of the Northern and Middle States. (3d vol., p. 1394.)

Mr. GOUVERNEUR MORRIS, of Pennsylvania, wished the whole subject to be committed,
including the clause on imports. These things may form a bargain among the Southern
and Northern States. (3d vol., p. 1395.)

The matter was committed. The Committee made report in substance as the section now
stands in the Constitution, excepting that the Committee reported in favor of the year 1800.

Gen. PINCKHET, of South Carolina, moved to substitute 1808 for 1800. (3d vol., p.
1427.)

Mr. GORHAII, of Massachusetts, seconded the motion.

Mr. MADISON, of Virginia. — Twenty years will produce all the mischief that can be
apprehended from the liberty to import slaves.

On the motion, which passed in the affirmative, New Hampshire, Connecticut, Massachu-
setts, and three other States, Ay. New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Virginia,
No. (3d vol., p. 1427.)

The first part of the report was then agreed to as amended, as follows: The migration or
importation of such persons as the several States now existing shall think proper to admit
shall not be prohibited prior to the year 1808. New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecti-
cut, Maryland, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Ay, 7. New Jersey, Pennsyl-
vania, Delaware, Virginia, No. 4. (3d vol., pp. 1428 and 1429.)

The above extracts of opinions of leading Northern delegates, and the above cited votes
of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and other States, prove my statement numbered 3. It
proves that the proposition for "prohibition" of the "importation of slaves" came from
.Maryland, and was warmly supported, on moral grounds, by Virginia, and that Connecti-
cut immediately pronounced: " Let every State import what it pleases; " while Massachu-
setts ably seconded Connecticut, that it was " to be considered in a political light only/'
and at once suggested the exemption of imported slaves from duty, however it " struck the
commercial sagacity " of the North. He made it a subject for trade, not for moral specu-
lations. Those extracts and votes also prove that when the committee reported the year
1800 as the period within which the trade should not be prohibited, Massachusetts
promptly seconded and acted with South Carolina in a successful effort to extend the time
for the importation of slaves from Africa to the year 1808.

I now turn to the consideration of the fourth statement made by me, and I continue
extracts from, the debates in the Federal Convention : —

Mr. CEHIIV, of Massachusetts, moved to reconsider article 19, namely, "On application
of two-thirds of the States in this Union for an amendment of this Constitution, the Legis-
lature of the United States shall call a Convention for that purpose." He eaid, " Two-

'398 APPENDIX.

thirds may obtain a Convention, a majority of which can bind the Union to innovations
that may subvert the State Constitutions altogether."

On Mr. GERRY'S motion, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, and six other States
voted Ay. (3d vol., p. 1103-4-5.)

It being reconsidered, Mr. RUTLEDGE, of South Carolina, said "he never could agree to
give a power by which the articles relating to slaves might be altered by the States not
interested in that property, and prejudiced against it." In order to obviate that objec-
tion, these words were added to the proposition: " Provided that no amendment which may
be made prior to the year 1808 shall in any manner affect the fourth and fifth sections of
the seventh article." On this, which passed in the affirmative, the vote stood thus: Massa-
chusetts, Connecticut, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina,
South Carolina, Georgia, Ay. Delaware, No. New Hampshire, divided.

These extracts and votes prove my fourth proposition or statement, and that after Massa-
chusetts had seconded and voted for the section to extend the time for importation of slaves,
she also called for the reconsideration of the article upon the mode of amending the Con-
stitution, and voted for the clause that no amendment to be made should affect in any way
the slave-trade guaranty. I have nothing more to add. Having now corrected the hostile
and malignant criticisms of two leading editors in the Black Republican cause, namely,
Mr. Thurlow Weed, and Mr. Henry J. Raymond, the first in my speech at Rochester,
and the last in this letter, I leave the whole subject of those speeches to the judgment of
an intelligent public. I may be permitted to observe, however, that I have not had an
opportunity of correcting the reports which were made of them; and there are errors of
style and statement in the reports which I should have been glad to have corrected.

Could those papers which have copied the Times' article do me the justice to publish my
reply, I should be gratified by that act of courtesy, while, at the same time, the cause of
truth would be subserved.

Tour obedient servant,

W. L. YANCEY.

II. THE MOTIVES AND OBJECTS OF THE DISUNION MOVEMENT.

NEW YORK, Nov. 26, 1860.

IN a former letter I corrected the misrepresentations, historical and statis-
tical, by which you endeavored to convince the people of the Northern
States that they ought to permit the indefinite increase of slavery. I propose
now to consider the bearing of that argument upon the present disunion
movement.

You are urging the State of Alabama to secede from the Union, — or, it
she will not take the lead in secession, to join any other State that may do
BO. What you advise her to do, you think every slaveholdiug State should
do also, — but you are unwilling to trust the decision of the question to the
voice of all those States, assembled in Convention and acting together, — or
even to the calm judgment and consenting action of the Cotton States alone.
You insist that some one State shall withdraw from the Union by herself,
trusting that the community of interest, the prid<^ and the commitments of
the other Cotton States will impel them, not only to imitate her example,
but to come to her aid, in resisting any armed attempt of the Federal Govern-
ment to support the Constitution and maintain the integrity of the Union.

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 309

I am constrained by the evidence of events to confess that yonr efforts have

been crowned \vitli a startling degree <>f success. Although the llnal *-tep
has not yet been taki>n by any State, public sentiment in three or four of
them seems quite prepared to take it. The machinery which you organized
some years since for the purpose of "firing the Southern heart, instructing
the Southern mind, ind giving courage to each other," has done its work far
more effectually than even you could have anticipated; and that "Proper
Moment," when, as you declared in your letter of June 15, 1858, you conld
" by one organized, concerted action, precipitate the Cotton Stntes into a revolu-
tion," seems in very truth to have arrived. Gladly as I would have shut my
eyes to so unwelcome a fact, I cannot doubt that an overwhelming majority
of the people of South Carolina are prepared for secession, — and that after
the blow has once been struck, there is much reason to believe that a major-
ity of the people in Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi will rally, in arms if
-.•iry, to her support.

What is likely to be the result of such a movement, I may perhaps con-
sider before I close this correspondence. At present my purpose is rather to
examine its motives.

The great mass of the people in the cotton-growing States are imbued
with the general conviction that their separation from the Union is desirable,

— and the same thing is true, though to a much less extent, of the people in
the other slave-holding States. If we were to ask them what are the reasons
for such a conviction, — what are the precise wrongs which they have suf-
fered under the Union, and what the advantages they expect to secure for
themselves by leaving it, — we should receive very different answers from
different States. The motives which influence disunionists in Alabama and
South Carolina are not the motives which influence disunionists in Mary-
land and Virginia. All would agree that their common institution — slavery

— is in some way menaced by the government as it now exists, and espe-
cially as it will exist after it passes into the hands of the Republican party;
but they would differ as to the shape which its perils assume. In order to

ain the real motive of disunion, therefore, we must go to those few
leading minds with whom, like all great movements, it had its origin. Less
than two years before the Declaration of Independence w:is i-.su.-d. Wash-
ington expressed thn sentiment of the great body of the people when he
declared that the colonies had no thought or desire to sever their connection
with the mother country. But Samuel Adams, and James Otis, and John
Adams, and Patrick Henry knew, five years before, that independence was
the real object and would bo the crowning consummation of the current pop-
ular protects against Kinjlish rule.

The disunion movement has been set on foot by a comparatively small
number of men in the Southern States. Mr. Calhoun planted t!:
it in the intellects and the ambition of the most prominent and influential of
the rising statesmen of the South. His doctrines found no lodgment in the
popular mind. His arguments were too abstract for general appreciation,
and the idea of disunion was never popular out of South Carolina during his
lifetime. Since his death the apostles of his creed have been untiling in its
propagation; and no one man has been more /.ealons than yoiir-elf in this
work. You have been, moreover, som. -what bolder and more frank in the

400 APPENDIX.

application of his theories to the practical policy of the country ; you have
been more willing than many of those who were working with you, to avow
and advocate the measure which those theories were intended to support.
I feel justified, therefore, in regarding you as the best representative of the
disunion movement, and in seeking the causes of this movement in your opin-
ions and declarations.
What, then, are your reasons for urging a dissolution of the Union?

ELECTION OF A REPUBLICAN PRESIDENT.

If I were to ask every disunionist in the South this question, nine-tenths
of them would probably reply, the election of Lincoln and the triumph of the
Republican party. But you know that in and of itself this constitutes no
justification whatever. You claim that secession is strictly a constitutional
proceeding. But certainly it is not more so than the election of a President in
strict compliance with every form and eveiy requirement of the Constitution.
You say he has been elected by a sectional vote. Admit the fact ; — that does
not make it one whit the less constitutional. The Constitution knows noth-
ing of sections in the Union, — either as elements of power or as the claim-
ants of rights. It recognizes only States and People, and it assigns to
each their just proportion of power in the election of a President, as in every
other function of government. The States have an equality iii the Electoral
College to the extent of two votes each ; and then each State has an addi-
tional weight in proportion to its population. This provision, which the
Constitution deemed sufficient to secure the individual States from injustice,
has been fully complied with. The election of Lincoln involves not the
slightest departure from the Constitution in any particular. If secession
were equally constitutional, your right to secede would be beyond question.

But he is elected by the Republican party, and by a minority of the pop-
ular vote, through the divisions of his opponents. True, — but Republicans
are people; a constitutional majority, composed wholly of Republicans, is
not one whit the less a constitutional majority of the people than if K \vere
composed in part of others; and & constitutional majority — not an absolute,
numerical majority — is all that is required for the election of a President.
It is a maxim of law, moreover, as well as of common sense, applicable to
public as well as to private controversies, that no man shall take advantage
of his own wrong; and those who are now disuuionists in the South, with
you at their head, are directly responsible for that rupture of the Democratic
party which aided, if it did not cause, the election of Lincoln.

These, you will say, are technical reasons against secession. True, and
they are only assigned in answer to technical reasons in its favor. If you
stand upon the Constitution, and assert your right under it to secede in case
of its violation, I am free to show that no such violation has taken place, and
that you have, therefore, no such right.

Nor can you find any pretext for secession in the character of the man
thus elected. If you have made yourself at all familiar with it, — as you are
bound to do before making it the ground of objection, — you must know
that the Union contains no purer, no more upright, no more patriotic citizen ;
no man more just and fair-minded, more certain to discharge the duties of

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 401

his office with scrupulous regard to the rights of all, than Mr. Lincoln.
But even if this were not so, I understand you to have expressly waived
this as a reason for secession, in your speech at Montgomery, in 1858, where
I find you saying: —

" If I understand my distinguished friend from Virginia (Mr. Pryor), the election of a
Black Republican President would bo an issue for disunion. I understand my learned col-
league (.Mr. Hillard) to say that upon that issue he would be ready to dissolve the Union.
I say with all deference to my colleagues here, that no more inferior issue could be tendered to
the South upon which we should dissolve the Union than the loss of an election. If in the contest
of I860 for the Presidency, Seward should receive the legal number of votes necessary to
elect him, according to the forms of the Constitution and laws, gentlemen say that then will
be the time to dissolve the Union. If that is made the cause of disunion, I say to them that
I will go with them, but I will feel that I am going in the wake of an inferior issue; that there
was a banner over me that is not of the kind I would wish.

" When I am asked to raise the flag of revolution against an election under the forms of
laws and the Constitution, 7 am asked to do an unconstitutional thing, according to the Con-
stitution as it now exists. / am asked to put myself in the position of a rebel, of a tru;
a position where, if the government should succeedand put down the revolution, I and my
friends can be arraigned before the Supreme Court of the United States, and there be sentenced to
he hanged for violating the Constitution and laws of my country."

The fact, therefore, that a Republican President has been elected cannot be
your reason for disunion. As a symptom and precursor of other events it
might have more weight. If there were any substantial reasons for suppos-
ing that Mr. Lincoln would aid or countenance any infraction of Southern
rights, any trespass upon Southern interests, any attempt to disturb the
public peace in the Southern States, you would be quite right in putting the
South in an attitude of defence, and of preparation for resistance, to any
extent which the injustice, when it should come, might require. But it is
scarcely becoming a great and brave people to act upon a mere apprchen>ion
of dangers that may never arrive; and in this ease you have every as>urance
which Mr. Lincoln's declared sentiments and which the necessities of his
position can give, that no trespass upon Southern rights will be permitted
which he lias the power to prevent.

You fear that, whatever his personal opinions and purposes may be, he
will be governed by the requirements of his party. But you have seen
enough of public life to know that seeking power against a party in posses-
sion is one thing, and wielding it under all the responsibilities which it
involves, is quite another. The Republican party will now have far more
interest than any other in preventing renewals of the John Brown raid; in
pimUhini; every movement against the peace of a Southern State; in
enforcing the laws, Mipprc"!:;- everything like resistance to their execution,
and securing that public tranquillity which rests upon justice and equal
rights. You mistake the North in supposing that the election of Lincoln
indicates any disposition on the p:irt of the people to countenance any infrac-
tion of Southern rights. They elected him because they did not belit \ e he
had the slightest sympathy with any such purpo>c, — and because they knew
that the public welfare imperatively demanded a change in the spirit and
tone of the Federal councils. And if the Republican Administration

402 APPENDIX.

should tolerate the least invasion of Southern rights, the very first elections
jvould deprive it of the support of every considerable Northern State.

If, therefore, you had no stronger reason than the election of a Republican
President, I am sure you would not urge the secession of the Southern
States.

SURRENDER OF FUGITIVE SLAVES.

The refusal to surrender fugitive slaves, — and especially the enactment
by several Northern States of Personal Liberty bills, with the apparent
intent to prevent their recovery, — is much more generally assigned.as a reason
for disunion. But this cannot be your motive, nor that of the Gulf States
whose action will dissolve the Union, if it is dissolved at all ; for they suf-
fer scarcely any practical inconvenience from this source. Out of the eleven
hundred slaves who escape from the South annually, I presume that all the
Cotton States together do not lose fifty. Virginia, Maryland, and Kentucky
are the States upon whom this wrong and this loss fall ; yet they are Union
States. They have so little sympathy with the secession movement that
you will not trust yourself in Convention with them, and the disuuionists
of South Carolina insultingly repel all advice or counsel from them on this
subject. You must be aware, moreover, that the Supreme Court has released
the States from all obligation to return fugitive slaves by devolving that
duty upon the Federal Government; that the law of 1850, in fulfilment of
that duty, by its defective provision for proofs of identity, subjects free cit-
izens of Northern States to the danger of being carried into slavery, as has
happened once at least since its enactment; and that the professed object
of these Personal Liberty bills has been to protect free citizens from that
peril, and not to prevent the return of actual fugitives. The injustice which
they may work to the owners of fugitive slaves is not greater than the
injustice which may arise to free men from the harsh and unguarded execu-
tion of the Fugitive Slave Law.

I am not disposed, however, to enter upon any vindication of the general
policy of these bills. I have always opposed them as at war, in their spirit,
with the constitutional obligation to surrender fugitive slaves, and as cal-
culated needlessly to exasperate the people of the Southern States. Their
enactment has been usually due to the race of rival partisans for local popu-
larity. It has been part of the machinery of our political contests ; and as a
matter of practical importance I presume I am quite right in saying, that all
the Personal Liberty bills that have been passed in all the States have
never released half-a-dozen fugitives from the service from which they had
escaped. I am quite sure that none of the Southern States would dream of
secession on account of the actual injury they sustain from these Personal
Liberty bills, in the loss of their fugitive slaves; for if that were the motive
of secession it would not be most powerful where the injury is the least.
In that case, Kentucky, and not South Carolina, would take the lead in the
movement of disunion.

You say the passage of these bills is insulting to the South, — an outrage
upon her rights, and a mockery of her sufferings. I do not deny it. I admit
that there has been a great deal too much that is offensive to Southern feeling
in the action of the North upon this subject. But has all the insult been

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 403

upon one side in this matter? Have the constitutional rights of Northern
men — their right to " life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" — always
been respected in the South? I merely suggest this point as worthy your
consideration, if you propose to dissolve the Union because you ha\ >
insulted. We have quite as much ground of complaint on this score as you
have. Neither section has been blameless. Both have steps to retrace and
reforms to practice; and I think you will find the North quite ready to meet
the South, at least half way in this matter.

THE TERRITORIAL QUESTION

But you claim the right to carry slavery into the territories, and that posi-
tion, you say, is denied by the Republican party. The assertion of the riyht
is one thing, and its exercise is quite another. I think I run no risk of
contradiction when I say that the present holders of slaves in the Southern
States care nothing about the exercise of the right asserted on their behalf.
They do not wish to go to the territories themselves, — still less to take their
slaves with them. There are no territories now belonging to the Union into
which slaves could be carried without a prodigious sacrifice of their value.
What, slave-owner in Alabama will take slaves, worth from one thousand to
one thousand live hundred dollars there, into Kansas, or New Mexico, where
they are not worth, either for sale or for hire, one-half of that amount, — to say
nothing of the risk of losing them? Mr. Gaulden, of Georgia, was quite right
when he told the Charleston Convention that the South had no slates to
,v< //</ into the territories, — she had not enough to supply the demand for labor
at home. She needs on her own plantations all the slave labor she can possibly
command; and any attempt to send slaves into the territories would only di-
minish her product of cotton, weaken her domestic strength, and mid nothing
to her wealth elsewhere. Nor are the political considerations which the
question involves likely to change her action. For if she should send slaves
into any territory in order to make it a slave territory, she must draw addi-
tional supplies from Maryland, Delaware, or Virginia, and thus do all in her
power to convert them into free States, The South never can colonize the
territories with slaves, until she eau be at liberty to increase her supply by
importation from abroad.

There was a time when the question of slavery in the territories was the
paramount political question of the- day. 1 think that time has passed; and
that it can never come up again, as a practical question, until after the Afri-
can slave-trade lias been reopened. The Gulf States will send no slaves to
Kansa> or .New Mexico so long ;is they command such enormous pi i
home; nor will Virginia or Kentucky send slaves thither so long as their
prices rule thm high in the markets ;it their doors. Slaveholders

who emigrate into new regions iir-t sell their slaves, and thus take their
property with them in the shape of ca>h. As you clearly expressed it in your
Montgomery speech : —

• with Frre-Sail-dom in any of our nr» tfr*

iir-riix. TbeoooMqmnM i- tli:ii ini- pv.'ivTty is ki'jit in tbo States wbieh pro-

tect it, uud whoro I hero is ;i iK-maml f r it."

404 APPENDIX.

Practically, therefore, we shall hear nothing more of the territorial ques-
tion until the greater question which lies behind it, and gives it all its im-
portance, shall have been decided. And this, I think, is the general convic-
tion of the reflecting portion of the people of the North, even among the
Republican party. Mr. Seward, you will remember, in one of his campaign
speeches, said he considered it settled that there would be no further exten-
sion of slavery into the territories until the African slave-trade should be re-
stored; and it cannot have escaped your observation that the Republican
Convention at Chicago held language on this point very different from that
used at Philadelphia in 1856. As things now stand, I believe the North
would lose nothing whatever by leaving the whole subject of extending sla-
very into the territories entirely untouched ; and in the absence of. any farther
causes of irritation from the South, I think it not at all unlikely that the
North would consent that the question should be decided by the course of
events and the natural influences of climate and emigration. If I held any
official position, or any post which would involve any party in the responsi-
bility for these opinions, I might not hazard such an expression of them.
But I give it as my own judgment, based upon the grounds I have already
mentioned.

But suppose this to be true. Suppose the incoming administration
should decide to leave this whole matter precisely where it stands at present,
making no attempt to prohibit by law the extension of slavery into the terri-
tories, conceding that the inhabitants may, when they come to form a State
Constitution, and not before, admit or exclude slavery in their own discre-
tion, and agreeing to admit the State into the Union in either case ; would
the South accept that as a final adjustment of the differences between the two
sections? "Would you, — and those who are acting with you in the disunion
movement?

I think you would reply : " Yes, if you will concede it as a matter of rif/ht,
of principle, with whatever logical consequences that principle may involve.
But if it is offered on grounds of expediency alone, — as a practical solution
of an embarrassing question, — No." What the South contends for is the
prittcfple that her slaves are property in the view of the Constitution, — to be
held, treated, and in all respects regarded by the Federal Government as
property, and nothing else, precisely like horses, cattle, and other movable
chattels. It is the absolute, indefeasible riyht itself, and not the exercise of
the right, which the South would demand as the price of her remaining in the
Union.

STATE EQUALITY AND THE SLAVE-TRADE.

Now, why do you make this distinction? Why would you refuse the privi-
lege of carrying slaves into the territories, unless you could secure at the
same time the absolute riyht to do so? Because the former would be value-
less without the latter; because you have no slaves to take into the terri-
tories,— and yon need the rif/ht, and the principle on which it rests, in
order to get them, and thus render the concession itself of any practical
value. In other words, you require the restoration of the African slave-
trade, in order to extend slavery iuto the territories. The recognition of the

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 405

principle you contend for will give yon both ; while the bare concession of
the extension itself will secure you neither.

principle you assert is the absolute equality of the' States in regard to the
tenure of property, — that each State shall be allowed to make its own laics con-
cerning property, — the ownership of persons or of things, — and that any right
of property which any State may see fit thus to create, shall be recognised by the
Federal Government as absolute and indefeasible.

This is what you understand by the equality of the States. You will con-
cede, I think, that I do not state the claim too broadly. Any restriction of
it, — anything less than is included in it, — defeats the purpose for which it is
put forward. But suppose it to be conceded. It follows, of course, that any
person may do what he pleases with his property. He may hold it, or buy
and sell it, wherever the jurisdiction of the Constitution extends, and the
Federal (Jovernment is bound to protect him in so doing. Whatever I may
do with broadcloth, you may do with a negro slave, — anywhere within the
jurisdiction of the Federal Constitution, — if that Constitution, as you con-
tend, puts the two upon the same footing. All the property of all the States,
whatever any State chooses to make property by her local laws, — becomes
property in the eye of the Federal Constitution, and consequently becomes
the subject of commerce, — domestic, or foreign, at the will of its owner, —
subject only to such uniform laws as may be adopted for all property, in the
regulation of commerce, between the States or with foreign nations.

How far the practical application of this principle would affect the general
subject of property, the purpose of this correspondence does not lead me, nor
do its limits permit me, to inquire. It would evidently put the whole matter
of property under the control of any one State, and each State would be sover-
eign, quoad hoc, not only over its own affairs, but over the affairs of all the
other States. That the principle would involve the restoration of the foreign
trade in slaves, if any State should choose to enter upon it, yon will not deny,
nor have I the slightest doubt. Indeed, in your Montgomery speech you
took precisely this ground, and denounced the laws of Congress prohibiting
the slave-trade as unconstitutional, because they denied and destroyed this
principle of the equality of the States. You say : —

" The laws prohibiting the foreign slave-trade arc in violation of the spirit of the Con-
stitution, and arc unjust and an insult to the South, and ought to bo repealed. . . .
IVfi-tt rijht htiiithix ynvernmcnt {» discriminate against one of the States in the Union that has
equal rights in the Union ? Whore will you find the right in the Constitution ? Nowhere.
Will my friend from Virginia (Mr. Pryor) find in any clause of the Constitution any enact-
ment against the slave-trade ? No, ho will not find it there. What will ho find in that
Constitution ? Ho will find simply this: 'Congress shall enact no law prohibiting tho mi-
gration or ii: f such persons as any of the States may see fit to admit before tho
year 1 sns.' What ! y«-u call that ? Why, that is one of the constitutional guaranties of
the slave-trade. . .

"In 1S07 a law was enacted, making it a misdemeanor to import a slave from abroad.
Now I ask ovory sensible man in this Convention, was not that statute a violati-m vfthr
the Conxtitittim ? What was tho spirit of tho Constitution? It was that African
within imrd, Ir-al, ami that u-r ,v/W upm an equal footiny with all th-

the Kt :' And what btv.uno of our i'nuai.

tho law was pa-.-r-l that said, you of the South shall not import negroid from Al'ik'a, though

406 APPENDIX.

you of the North may import jackasses from Malta ? What became of our equality then ? A
blow was struck against it when this government passed a law discriminating against the
slave labor of the South. . . The law struck at the equality of the South. If so, it fol-
lows as plainly, as that two and two make four, that the law is an unconstitutional law.

"Is there any gentleman here prepared to maintain that we are not equil in the Union ac-
cording to the Constitution ? If so, then I shall be able to understand his argument
against the African slave-trade, and in favor of the constitutionality of these enactments. .
. . If it is right to buy slaves in Virginia, in what consists the wrong of buying slaves
in Cuba, Brazil, or upon the coast of Africa ? . . .

'•' It is a law that discriminates against Southern property; no such discrimination is right.
It is a law that discriminates against Southern labor; no such discrimination can be made,
and our equality in the Union be yet recoynized. I therefore invoke the principle of free-
trade here, the principle of State-rights, the principle of strict construction, and the great fun-
damental principle of our right and equality in this Union, and consequently of our right to
erase from our statute-book every evidence of our inequality that has been put there by the
dominant and antagonistic class that has fed upon our very life-blood."

I might greatly multiply these extracts ; but I have given enough to show
what you mean by the principle of State Equality, and for what purposes you
demand the recognition of your absolute right to take your slaves, as your
property, into the territories. I do not suppose that the great mass of the
Southern people hold these views of the principle, or join in demanding its
recognition, with any such purpose. Neither did they dream in 1850 that
the enactment of the Compromise measures contained a principle which
would involve the repeal of the Missouri Compromise. But when they were
told in 1854 that it did, they united in claiming the benefit of all the conse-
quences of that principle, just as loudly as if they had been provided for at
the outset. A man may have no thought of seizing his neighbor's farm ;
but show him that he has color of title, and he will speedily commence pro-
ceedings for its recovery. You and your associates in the organization and
conduct of this movement know very well that, if you can establish the prin-
ciple to-day, you can claim all the consequences that may flow from it to-
morrow.

CAUSES OF THE DISUNION FEELING.

And this brings me to what I regard as the real motive of the disunion
movement. That motive has taken precise and definite form, probably, in
the minds of a comparatively small number of those who are most active in
the movement itself. The great mass of those who sympathize with it and
give it their aid are governed by the vague but powerful feeling that tho
South, as a section, having peculiar institutions and peculiar necessities,
is gradually growing politically iceakcr and iccaker in the Union; that the
North is rapidly gaining a preponderance in the Federal Councils ; and that
there is no hope that the South can ever regain the ascendency, or even a
political equality, under the Constitution and within the Union. The election
of Lincoln is regarded as conclusive proof that Northern supremacy is a
fixed fact ; and it is on this account that it has so concentrated ami intcusilicd
the resentment of the Southern States. No community ever sinks down
willingly into a position of inferiority. Its instinct is to struggle against it,
and the struggle will be violent in proportion to the magnitude of the evils

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 407

which inferiority is believed to involve. All the sectional excitements and
political paroxysms of the last twenty years have been but the strenuous
resistance of the South to what she has felt to be the inevitable tendency of
events. The annexation of Texas, — the claim to California, — the repeal
Of the Missouri Compromise, — the fight for Kansas, — the filibustering in
Central America, — the clamor for Cuba, have been only the straws at which
the Slaveholding section has clutched, in the hope to save itself from being
engulfed in the rising tide of Northern power. To them it was not the steady
and silent rising of a peaceful sea. Its roar came to their ears upon the
stormy blasts of anti-slavery fanaticism, — and sounded to them like the
knell of destiny, — the precursor of degradation and ruin to their homes and
their hopes.

I do not wonder at this alarm. I cannot blame it, or deny that it has its
origin in just and patriotic sentiments. I do think that the leading intellects
of the Southern States — those to whom as in every community the great
mass of the people look for guidance, and by whom they are guided,
whether they know it or not — ought to have foreseen this result, and made
up their minds long ago to act icith the laws of Nature, rather than against
them, — to yield to the spirit of the age, the tendencies of civilization and
Christianity, instead of resisting them ; to make allies instead of enemies
of those great moral principles which are proving too powerful for the
niightest monarchies of the earth, and before which it is idle to hope that
despotism can make a permanent stand upon this continent. The fathers of
our Republic, did so. They framed the-Constitutioii upon such a basis, and
in the belief that it would be administered in such a spirit. They gave the
government they created power over the slave-trade, not doubting that,
after a few years, that power would be exercised with the general assent of
all the States, and that all would feel, as they felt, the necessity of providing
for the gradual disappearance of slavery itself. And for a series of years
the event justified this expectation. The prohibition of the slave-trade in
1807, recommended by Jell'erson, was enacted with the unanimous consent
of all the States North and South, and down to 1830 there was a constant
and hopeful tendency towards emancipation in nearly all the- slave-holding
States. But since that time the leading intellects of the South have turned
back the whole current of Southern sentiment upon this subject. In your
own words, '-an entirely new idea has sprung up, and is now universal in
the South, niton the great question of slavery, in its operation upon mankind
and labor." Mr. Calhoun taught the South that slavery was, and must
always be, tin- sole basis of its prosperity, and that the leading aim of the
South mu-t be t'» fortify, to increase, and to make it perpetual. You aud
other^ have inherited his opinions, and devoted yourselves to their propaga-
tion. And in dii .'f time you have come into direct collision on this
subject with the spirit and the letter of t lie < 'onstitutiou which our fat tiers
framed ; and y<>u now find that you cannot reach the object at which you
aim, without de^r.-ying that Constitution, and breaking up the Union which
it created.

The people of the South sympathize with the disunion movement from a
keen s(.Use of the -rowing superiority of the North. How that superiority
can be overcome within the Union they do not perceive, nor have they

APPENDIX.

any definite idea of any policy by which it can be contested, after the .South
shall have seceded. You, on the contrary, have very definite; ideas on both
points. You trace the growing inequality of the two sections, in material
development and consequent political power, to the discrimination of the
Federal Government against the South in regard to the supply of labor, — which
is in every community the great element of growth and of wealth. The
North is permitted to increase indefinitely its supply of labor by immigra-
tion,— by inviting labor from abroad, — while the South is forbidden to
seek a similar increase. by importations of the peculiar kind of labor on
which, most unwisely, it has come entirely to rely. When the price of labor
rises in the North it invites and secures an additional supply from abroad,
and when the supply is excessive, it overflows into the new territories, and,
planting there new and free States, swells the political power of the North.
At the South the enactments of Congress have arrested this natural opera-
tion of the law of supply and demand. When the price of labor rises at the
South, there is no such resource for increasing the supply; there is no way
of lowering the price, and of securing a surplus to send into the new territo-
ries. And this is the reason, in your opinion, why the South falls behind
the North in material development and in political power. These laws for-
bidding the slave-trade operate upon the South precisely as laws forbidding
emigration would operate upon the North. And the remedy you propose, is to
be sought in the repeal of those laws, — in permitting every State to import
such labor as it requires. Then, as you say : —

" The whole matter will be left to the operation of the law of supply and demand,
precisely as the mule, the horse, the corn, and the cotton-trade are governed now, and I
insist that there should be no more discrimination by law against the slave-trade than against the
nutmey-trade of JVtw England. Let it be governed by the law of supply and demand alone. If
wo do not want the negroes, then we do not have them; if we do want them, then we can
get them. I think this ought to be governed by that rule."

This, then, is your ground of discontent with the Federal Government, —
that it prevents the increase of slavery. And I believe it to be at the root of
the disunion feeling now so prevalent in the cotton-growing States. Proba-
bly not one in ten of the mass of the Southern people — perhaps not one in
five of those who are to-day in favor of secession — would declare them-
selves in favor of reopening the slave-trade. Nor is it your policy to press
the subject upon their attention, or even to allow it to be made a topic of
discussion, while the issue of secession is pending. You have made up your
mind that your object cannot be attained within the Union. "I do not ex-
pect," you said at Montgomery, " that the North, which has the majority,
will ever vote for the measure, — therefore these lau-s will iici-t-r 1><> n ,,1-aled."
You are therefore for secession. But it would not be safe to trust the issue,
either before or after that event, to the general action of all the slaveholding
States, — for several of them are known to be utterly hostile to it. As you
declared at Montgomery, it is the interest of Virginia to have negroes scarce,
because they will command a high price, — while it is for the interest of
Georgia, South Carolina, and Alabama to have them numerous, in order to
Lave them cheap. You propose, therefore, to exclude the Frontier States

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 409

from all consultation upon this subject, — and from all agency in the forma-
tion of tlio new Confederacy which you propose to establish. '• Virginia and
the other Frontier States," says the Charle>:.m M- irury, the organ and
mouthpiece of your party, " may as well at once understand their position
with the Cotton States. Tlin Southern States icill df-.
Thev intend to secede from the Union, and construct a Union iummy
selves, and will be glad to Ilnd Virginia and other Border States in counsel
with th.'in nfi< r tlii* (;r>-nt ri'rolut.ion." And other journals in the disunion
interest deprecate the discussion of the slave-trade issue as certain to
divide public sentiment, and weaken, if not destroy, the entire secession
movement.

At present it is your policy to accumulate arguments for disunion, rather
than to sift and define them. You can command far more support for that
measure by d< •claiming on the growing power and preponderance of the
North, and the steadily waning influence of the South, in the federal councils,
than by tracing them to their cause and fixing public attention upon the
remedy yon propose to apply. But the time will come when specific meas-
ure- must be proposed, — and then foremost among themlvill be the restor-
ation of the African slave-trade.

I think yon are (mite right in believing that the Federal Government will
never consent to the reopening of that traffic. The North will never con-
cede that point, — nor lay the foundation for its concession, — directly or
indirectly, under any circumstances, nor for any consideration which you
can offer as an equivalent. They will meet you on this issue upon any field
you may select. They will accept the hazard of disunion a thousand times,
rather than that as its alternative.

III. SECESSION UNCONSTITUTIONAL, AM) IMPOSSIBLE WITH-
OUT WAR.

NEW YOI-.K, TVC. 10, I860.

You will see from my last letter that I have no faith in the validity or sin-
cerity of the rea-oiis assigned fora secession of the Southern States. The
motive for that movement is neither the failure of the North to surrender
fugitive sia\es, nor the enactment, of IVrsonal Liberty bills, nor the practical
inability of Southern slaveholders to take their slaves into the territories
of the I'niied Slates. If you could have full and sulllcient guaranties upon
every <>ne <•!' tip you would lie ju>t as /.ealous. though not perhaps

so san-nine. an adv.' <\\ as yon art- now. What you and your

associate conspirators seek is the restoration of the African slave-trade. To
use your own words. "We of Alabama rvy,c tfaMf t" ' —we want

to buy, not to sell them. It i> a Virginia idea that slaves ought to lie high.
\ ia wants one thousand live hundred dollars each for her neuron-- : — v-c.

\\~.\v Xn;i:ni:s" is the grand consummation at
which \ou aim,— the mighty motive which routes yon to the task

410 APPENDIX.

ing a government which was formed to "secure the blessings of liberty to
ourselves and our posterity."

You will not understand me as implying that this is the motive of all whom
you have enlisted in the secession movement. If it%were, you would not
persist so vehemently in excluding all but the Cotton States from your coun-
sels. You would have admitted Virginia and Tennessee and Kentucky to a
share in the conduct of your conspiracy. If this were a movement in the
interest of all the slaveholdiug States, it would have been decided in a
general convention of them all. But you know very well that in such a con-
vention it would be impossible to conceal your real motive, — and that its
exposure would be fatal to the scheme. Virginia is now, as she has been
from the earliest moment of her independent existence, opposed to the slave-
trade : — South Carolina, therefore, gives her formal notice that her aid is
not desired, and that her advice will not be heeded, in the movement of
secession. Kentucky, Tennessee, Maryland, — all the Frontier States, — would
set their faces like a flint against reopening the African slave-trade. They
are to have no voice, therefore, in the decision of the question : it is only
after the Revolution shall have been accomplished that they will be
" permitted " to join your new Confederacy. Even in South Carolina you
deprecate a discussion of the subject. For you know that the more intelli-
gent and considerate* portion of the people, even in the Gulf States, are
opposed to this cardinal feature of your policy. They believe, as we do, that
we have negroes enough on this continent already. They know that what-
ever may be their relations to society, — whether slave or free, — they are a
drawback upou our civilization, — a clog upon the refinement and Christian
culture of the community into which they are thrust.

This subject, therefore, is to be kept out of sight until disunion shall have
been accomplished. The great mass of the people in the slaveholdiug States
are to be moved by other considerations. Their pride, their local jealousies,
their fears, have been practised upon by way of preparation for the " proper
moment," when they are to be precipitated into revolution. Once out of the
Union, their destinies will be in the hands of the boldest and the strongest
of their leaders. The Gulf States are first to organize the new government,
— and determine the fundamental basis on which it shall rest. Absolute free
trade in "negroes from Africa as in mules from Malta," will be the corner-
stone of this new temple. Each State will be permitted to trade in whatever
it may prefer, — to import negroes or nutmegs, at its own discretion. And
the Frontier States will be offered this alternative, — either to join the new
Confederacy upou these terms ; to join the North, with the certainty of being
compelled to emancipate their slaves; or to stand between the two, and re-
ceive the blows and the bufl'etings of both.

It is by no means impossible that this ingenious, double conspiracy, against
the Union and the frontier Slave States, may meet with at least a partial and
temporary success. But even if you should establish an independent Con-
federation or consolidation of the Cotton States, can you suppose for a
moment that you would be permitted by the civilized nations of the world to
reopen the African slave-trade and efface the brand which all Christendom
has combined to lix upon it ? All the great powers of the earth have entered
into treaties, or have made laws, by which that trade is declared to be

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 411

piracy, and liavo pledged their united strength fur its extinction. Do you
expect tlieni t<> abrogate these treaties at the demand of your Southern Con-
federacy ? Ho you expect them to relax their vigilance in enforcing them ?
By what inducements would you bring about such a result ? Part of your
scheme is to extend your conquests into Mexico and Central America, — to
add cont ro I of the Caribbean Sea to your supremacy over the Gulf, — to bring
Cuba into your Southern Union. Are these designs likely to meet the views
and enlist the sympathies of either England or France? You rely, perhaps,
on the favor with which the Apprenticeship system has been regarded by
France, and the indications that it maybe tolerated even by England. But
you must remember that these measures are resorted to only for the supply
of their own necessities, not for the building up of rival States, and that the
principle has been insisted on by both nations, as indispensable, that the
emigration shall be voluntary, — that the service stipulated shall be for a
term of years and be paid for, and that the most perfect security shall be
given for a full compliance with these conditions, and for discharging and
returning the laborers at the expiration of the stipulated term. Even in this
form, it is by no means certain that England and France will enter upon the
;i. But would such a system answer your purposes? You want slaves,

— not apprentices, — slaves for life, — who shall be property, — not persons,

— incapable of consent or stipulation of any kind, — who shall have no rights
which white men will be bound to respect, — with whom no bargain is bind-
ing, and whose children and children's children shall thus be mere property,
absolutely and to the remotest generation. Anything short of this, any
limitations or conditions upon the traffic, would introduce into the system of
slavery, as it now exists among you, elements fatal to its continuance. You
must be strangely insensible to the moral sentiment of the age, — to the
ideas which are steadily advancing to supremacy over the Christian world, —
ifyoii expect ever to gain the assent of any civilized nation on the face of the
earth to such a scheme.

The tirst result of successful secession would be to increase immensely the
vi^or and vigilance of the great naval powers in suppre>sing the slave-trade.
Nothing has paralyzed those efforts hitherto half so much as the unwilliug-
of our Federal Government to ofl'end the South by any special zeal iu
this direction. It has been made, to some extent, an American question,
and has been complicated by considerations of naval rights and of national
honor. Our refusal to concede a mutual right of search, and the hesitation
of Kngland to enforce upon Spain the fulfilment of her treaty stipulations,
lest she should become involved in a war which might end in the transferor
Cuba to the I'nited Slates, have done more than all other causes combined to
prevent or embarrass the suppression of the slave-trade. Both these obsta-
cles would be removed by secession. The North will have no motive for
further hesitation. 1 he mutual right of search will be conceded. The slave-
trade1, if prosecuted at all, will be prosecuted just as piracy is, — uiuh r the
ban aiivl outlawry of the world. The moral sentiment of this country will
be r. leased from the shackles which the Constitution, and the I'nion with
the slaveholding South, have imposed upon it, and the slave-trade will loso
the only shadow of toleration it has hitherto enjoyed.

412 APPENDIX.

Even if you secede, therefore, and establish your new Slave Empire, you
will be no nearer the object you seek than you are at present.

THE QUESTION OF SECESSION.

And now let us consider this subject of secession. What is it ? On what
basis does it rest ? Under what form, and by what means, do you propose
to achieve it ?

In the first place, you claim that secession is a constitutional right — that
this Confederacy being the result of a compact between sovereign States,
each State has a right to withdraw from it at pleasure. When a State,
therefore, declares itself out of the Union, the Federal Government has no
right to coerce it into remaining. It has no power to make war on a State.
The President of the United States holds this opinion, — that is, he comes as
near holding it as he does to holding any opinion on this subject.

Now, I do not propose to discuss the question whether the Constitution is
or is not a "compact." That may be an important point to settle, but it
seems to me quite immaterial to the present issue. For even if it is a com-
pact, and nothing more, I can see no reason why one of the thirty-two
parties to it should have the right to break it at discretion. A compact
implies a mutual obligation. It is binding upon all who become parties to it.
It is so alike in private and in public transactions. If two men form a part-
nership, unlimited in its term, that partnership can only be dissolved by
mutual consent, or by appeal to a common arbiter. In the lowest form of
private compacts, no one party to a bargain has the right to repudiate it at
pleasure, — to absolve himself from the obligations and responsibilities
which it involves, and resume the position which he held before he entered
into it. Nor can States or nations claim any exemption from this law of
common morals. Nothing is more firmly established in the laws of nations
and the usages of the world than the principle that a deliberate repudiation
of treaty obligations is a just cause of war. Even if the Union, then, be only
a treaty, — a compact between the States, — it is nevertheless binding upon
them all. Each one is bound to abide by all its engagements, — to discharge
faithfully the obligations into which it has entered.

You may say they are sovereign, and, therefore, sole masters of their own
acts, — judges of their own obligations, — and subject to no common and
controlling tribunal. Even if they were so once, they ceased to be so when
they parted with a portion of their sovereignty and agreed to accept a
common arbiter. No nation can be so absolutely sovereign as not to be
bound by its own obligations.

Suppose we take the opposite position, — that any State has a right to
secede at will : where will it land us ? If one State may seci-de, another
may. Suppose all resolve upon secession : AVhat becomes of the Federal
Government? What becomes of its obligations, — of its debts, — its common "
property, — of its engagements entered into with foreign powers? What
becomes of its Hag, its army, its navy? All these things, you say, are to be
matters of future arrangement. But that does not set tie the question of
legality. If secession is a matter of constitutional right. — then there must
be some constitutional provision, direct or inferential, for the emergencies

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 413

which grow out of it. All these obligations are to be annulled: — but then,
you xiv, they may be renewed if the thirty-two parties to the old compact
ti> renew them. But what if they do not ? What would foreign cred-
itor^ uf the United State- say to such a scheme? What would foreign nations
say to such a mode of disposing of the engagements and undertakings into
which they have entered with the Republic?

THi: GOVERNMENT DEALS WITH INIHVIDUAL8, AXD NOT WITH STATES.

But it seems to me that this question has been involved in a great deal of
needless confusion, by the use of the term secession. " Words are things,"
and in this instance, as in many others, the adroit substitution of one word
for another has created an issue entirely foreign to the case. The Federal
Government is under no necessity of discussing the question of secession.
The only point it has to decide is the right and the duty of enforcing obedience
to its own laws.

The Constitution gives Congress power to make certain laws for the peo-
ple of the United States. It is the duty of every citizen of the United States
to obey those laws, provided they are constitutional, and to refer that point
to tribunals created for the purpose of deciding it. Has the Federal Govern-
ment the right and the power to enforce such obedience upon its citizens?
No one can doubt it. You do not deny it. The government has used the
Army and the Navy to enforce the fugitive slave law in Massachusetts, and
you have never denied or questioned the constitutionality of that proceeding.
It has precisely the same right to use the Army and the Navy to enforce upon
n citizen of South Carolina the payment of duties which Congress may im-
po-e upon the importation of merchandise abroad. The State has nothing to
do with the matter. The law docs not take effect upon the State; the Con-
stitution does not even recognize the existence of the Stale, in connection
with the duty of obedience to the laws of Congress, except to forbid its effect-
ive interference. The only way in which the State can be brought into the
at all, is by claiming the right to release its citizens from the duty of
obedience to the Federal law. Congress says that the citizen of South Car-
olina shall pay duties upon all merchandise he may import into Charleston.
The State of South Carolina assumes that she has a constitutional right to
him from that obligation, —and to say that he may import that mer-
chandise without paying duties. The only question that can arise N. lias
Carolina any such right? Let the Constitution itself reply : —

" This Constitution, and the laws of the United States, which shall bo made in pursuance

. iiinl till trruiii"! in:ule, or whiiih shall bo made, under the authority of the United

."• law of the land, and the judges in everv rotate shall bo bound

\\VIIIIXiiIN 1HK CONSTITUTION Oil LAWS OP ANT STATE TO THE CONTRARY NOT-
VTTBI

This is the whole case. There is no question of coercing a State— or of

"making war" on a State. The laws of Congress an1 not made for ."-

— but for individuals. All that is required of tip that they shall

their citizens from the duty of obedience. Indeed, they cannot

do so. South Carolina may declare herself out of the Union twice a year, if

414 APPENDIX.

she pleases, and pass as many nullification laws as her statute-books will
hold; but she cannot impair in the slightest degree the duty of every individ-
ual within her borders to obey the laws of Congress. It is the duty of the
President of the United States to " take care that the laws be faithfully exe-
cuted;'' and, as Mr. Buchanan very justly remarks in his message, "no
human power can release him from the performance of that duty."

THE STATES HAVE NO POWER TO RELEASE THEIR CITIZENS FliOM THE DUTY

OF OBEDIENCE.

The only question which can arise, therefore, in this matter of secession is,
whether the Federal Government will permit citizens of South Carolina or
Alabama, or any other State, to refuse obedience to the laws of Congress on
the plea that they have been released from such obedience by the action of
that State. So far as the matter of right is concerned, the question scarcely
requires an answer. Unless we have made up our minds to abandon our
national existence altogether, we have no choice in the premises. For if the
principle is once conceded that a State may nullify the action of the Federal
Government, and release its citizens from the duty of obedience to Federal
law, neither South Carolina nor the Slave States will be left alone in the
exercise of that right. Every Northern and Western State will at once
enact Personal Liberty bills of the most stringent character. New York has
a hundred fold more to gain by releasing her citizens from the payment of
federal duties on imports than any Southern State.

But you urge that ours is a voluntary government, — and must depend on
the voluntary assent of its people, and not on force, for its preservation.
Properly understood, this is perfectly true, — but its practical importance
depends on the manner of its application. If a constitutional majority of the
people become dissatisfied with the government, or with its administration,
they have a right to change it. If any considerable portion of the people
become dissatisfied, they have a right to demand amendments. If they con-
sider themselves aggrieved or oppressed, they may seek redress in the Courts
of law. And back of all these rights is the right of revolution, Tor which no
provision can ever be made, — which, indeed, can never be recognized in
any Constitution or form of government, because it is simply the right of
appealing to force against a government which is found to be hopelessly
oppressive. But our government is not a voluntary government in any such
sense as that individual citizens are left to their voluntary choice whether to
obey the laws or not, — or that communities, large or small, organized or
unorganized, have a constitutional right to repudiate the obligations of the
Constitution. Such a government would be no government at all. It would
have none of the functions, none of the powers, none of the stability which
are inseparable from the very idea of government. All government im-
plies force, — the right of coercion. And the consent on which our govern-
ment rests is the voluntary consent of the people that force may be used, if
necessary, to constrain obedience to law.

I concede fully that as the laws depend for their vitality and practical valid-
ity upon the co-operation of the governed, they should never outrage the
principles, the interests, or the sentiments of the people among whom they

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 415

are to be enforced. A disregard of this principle, might, under aggravated
circumstances, and in default of all other redress, justify revolution, — a
local protest in arms against the execution of the obnoxious law. It is by
overlooking entirely this principle that the fugitive slave law has been ren-
dered at once so odious and so inoperative. A law of Congress guarantee-
ing freedom of speech on slavery to a Northern Abolitionist, in the heart of
a slaveholding State, though it might be strictly constitutional, would be not
only iuettective, but would rouse the most bitter hostility of the community
whose safety it would seriously endanger.

But you will urge that this doctrine converts the Federal Government into
a consolidated despotism. Not so, — for this federal sovereignty extends
only to those matters which are expressly delegated to it. It is restricted by
the Constitution which creates it and prescribes the scope of its activity.
But up to the limit of those restrictions the sovereignty of the Federal Gov-
ernment is just as complete as is that of the States over all the matters which
are reserved. You say this sovereignty was delegated by the States them-
selves, and may, therefore, be resumed. On the contrary, even if that were
true, the fact that it was delegated proves that it cannot be resumed. Its
derivation cannot alter its character or impair its force. If the States gave
it, they parted with what they gave, and they cannot recall the gift. They
clothed the Federal Government with power to make laws, on certain sub-
jects, which should be of binding obligation upon the individual inhabitants
of the United States, — and with the right to enforce obedience to those
laws by the armed power of the country, if that should be necessary. So far
were they from reserving to themselves as States the right of releasing their
citizens from the duty of obedience, that they required all their State officers,
governors, legislators, and judges, to take a solemn oath that they would
enforce those laws, and they stipulated moreover that nothing in the Consti-
tution or laws of any State should derogate in any degree from the absolute
supremacy of the laws of Congress. Those laws, according to the " com-
pact," even if the Constitution be nothing more, are to be the " supreme law
of the land, anything in the Constitution or laws of any State to the contrary
notwithstanding."

Any claim, therefore, on the part of a State of a constitutional right to
release its citizens from the duty of obeying the laws of Congress, made in
pursuance of the Constitution, is simply preposterous and absurd.

Any exercise of such an asserted right, any attempt to prevent the Fed-
eral Government from executing those laws by State legislation, is merely a
nullity. Alabama, Georgia, and South Carolina may pass as many laws as
they please forbidding their citizens to pay duties to the Federal Govern-
ment, to obey process of Federal courts, or to regard the Federal law pro-
hibiting the slave-trade. Every one of them will be null and void. Must the
Federal Government, then, you may ask, "mate icar" on Alabama or South
Carolina for enacting such laws ? Not at all, — simply because it is needless,
the laws being themselves a nullity, and because, moreover, the Federal
Government has nothing to do with States as such. It has no right to say
what bills they shall pass and what they shall not. It deals with individuals,
and requires them to obey its laws. If they refuse, it may compel obedi-
ence. If the State interposes, and resists such attempted compulsion,

416 APPENDIX.

then the State " makes war" upon the Federal Government,. — not a war that
can be recognized as such by independent powers, — because it is not a war
between such powers, — but a war of rebellion, — a war of revolution. And
the only question that remains is, whether the Federal Government has a
right to put down rebellion, — to suppress insurrection against its authority.
And that question seems to me equivalent to asking whether it is a govern-
ment at all, or only a sham, — a pretence of government, without any of its
real powers or faculties.

I have no doubt, therefore, that the Federal Government has the right,
under the Constitution, to do what you would style " compelling a State to
remain in the Union" — that is, to compel every citizen within the jurisdic-
tion of the United States to obey the laws of Congress. Nor have I the
slightest hesitation in saying that it is its duty to do so, — and that any Pres-
ident, Senator, or member of Congress who refuses to aid, in doing so, vio-
lates his oath of office, and makes himself an aider and abetter of treason and
rebellion. As to the mode and time of compulsion, — the means of bringing
stress to bear upon rebellious communities, and the measure of force to be
used, — these are very difl'ereut questions, to be decided on other grounds,
.and by the wise discretion of the Federal Government. That government
may deem it most expedient, because most likely to prove effective, to post-
pone all resort to force to the latest possible moment, — to abstain from all
appearance of coercion, — and to trust to the moral compulsion of time, of
reflection and experience, rather than a hasty resort to material power.
But it cannot surrender the right. It cannot acknowledge the power of any
State to release its citizens from the duty of obedience to the Constitution
and the laws of the United States. Such an acknowledgment would be
simply an overthrow of the Constitution.

IMPOSSIBILITY OF PEACEABLE SECESSION.

South Carolina is on the eve of " withdrawing from the Union," — as she
phrases it, — that is, of enacting State laws releasing her citizens from the
duty of obeying the laws of Congress, organizing herself into an independent
sovereignty and preparing to resist, by force of arms, any attempt of the
present government to enforce obedience to its laws upon her citizens. Her
first attempt, — as it will be her first necessity, — will be to obtain a recogni-
tion of her independence from the Federal Government. Have you the slightest
idea that she will succeed ? The President has no power to grant such a
recognition. Congress has no power under the Constitution to grant it.
Where is such recognition to come from? Clearly it can only come from the
people of the United States, meeting in convention as they met in 1787 for
the purpose of dissolving one confederacy and substituting another in its
place. We must go through precisely the same process as our fathers did
when they abrogated the old Confederation, and created the " more perfect
Union," which during the seventy years of its existence has given us more
peace, prosperity, and national greatness than have ever been achieved by
any other nation on the face of the earth. We are now called upon to destroy
that Union. Why? Because it has failed to "provide for the common de-
fence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 417

ourselves and our posterity "? No; but because it has not failed. Because
it docs not permit the countenance of the African slave-trade; — because it
does not recognize slaves as '• property," — to be guaranteed to their own-
ers wherever its jurisdiction may extend: — because its tendencies are not
towards strengthening slavery, and making it perpetual and permanent in the
Federal Government, but rather the other way. You cannot expect the peo-
ple of the United States by consent to abolish the Union and repeal the Con-
stitution for such reasons as these. And yet that is what they must do, if
the}' recognize the independence of Soutli Carolina.

If South Carolina could be dealt with singly in this matter, — if she could
be released alone from the Union without conceding principles which would
release every State from its allegiance, abolish the Constitution, and blot out
the Republic from its place among the nations, there would be very little
difficulty in adjusting the matter. She would go out of the Union with the
unanimous consent of the other States. One of her own writers, in the
fttiuilicrn Quarterly Eecicw, has asserted that a majority of her inhabitants
were Tories in the Revolution, and were opposed to independence. Their
descendants have inherited their political sentiments. South Carolina has
never had a particle of sympathy with the fundamental principles which lie-
at the basis of our Republican institutions. From the very outset she has
been at war with the dominant ideas of the Confederacy. She has done
more to embroil the country in controversy, to disturb the public peace, and
sow the seeds of disloyalty and strife than all the other States. And if there
were any warrant in the Constitution for secession, I should favor the imme-
diate sec- ssion of all the other States from any confederacy in which she
might have a place. But this cannot be done. Nor can we ignore the fact
that she does not intend to go out alone. We are asked to permit her with-
drawal merely as preliminary to that of all the cotton, possibly of all the
slaveholding, States.

What we have to decide, therefore, when we are asked to recognize the
independence of South Carolina, is, whether we will consent to the disrup-
tion of our Union for the sake of creating a Southern Confederacy, — or
rather a Military Despotism, resting possibly on Democratic forms like that
of France (for that is the shape your new government would probably take),
upon our Southern border. You and your confederates in disunion seem to
think we would. You must base such a sentiment upon a serious over-esti-
mate of our disinterestedness and good nature, or upon an equally serious
under-estimate of our intelligence and good sense.

DlSrXIOX MKAXS WAR.

I put aside for the present all considerations connected with the character
of your proposed government; the fact that slavery is to be the basis of its
existence, and the interest of slavery the paramount aim of its policy.
Setting aside the certainties of constant contentions and wars between two
great nations thus widely separated in principle, in feeling and purpose, and
by no material barriers to keep them apart, — look at the position in which
we should be placing ourselves with reference to the future. We should be
surrendering to a foreign and a hostile power more than half of the Atlantic

418 APPENDIX. •

seaboard, the whole Gulf, the mouth of the Mississippi, -with its access to
the open sea, and its drainage of the commerce of the mighty West, all the
feasible railroad routes to the Pacific, all chance of further accessions from
Mexico, Central America, or the West India Islands, and all prospect of ever
extending our growth and national development in the only direction in
which such extension will ever be possible. We should be limiting our-
selves to that narrow belt cf the continent which would be bounded by the
British Colonies on the north, the slave empire on the south, and the Rocky
Mountains on the west. Have you seen any indications which encourage the
hope of so magnificient a self-sacrifice on the part of our people? What is
there in our past history to lead you to consider us thus reckless of national
growth and national grandeur? Is it the millions we have expended in the
purchase of Florida, and Louisiana, and Texas? Is it the hundreds of mil-
lions we expended in a war with Mexico for the conquest of Texas and Cali-
fornia? Is it the seven millions we paid for the Messilla Valley and the
acquisition of feasible railroad routes to the Pacific Ocean? We have a few
men among us,- dreamers rather than statesmen, who would cast all these
considerations aside, and accept any degree of national humiliation in order
to rid their consciences of what they regard as their " responsibility for the
sin of slavery." But they are very few and very powerless. Nine-tenths of
our people in the Northern and North-western States would wage a war
longer than the war of Independence, before they will assent to any such
surrender of their aspirations and their hopes. There is no nation in the
world so ambitious of growth and of power, so thoroughly pervaded with the
spirit of conquest, so filled with dreams of enlarged dominion, as ours. In
New England these impulses have lost something of their natural force under
the influences of culture and the peaceful arts. But in the Centre and the
West, this thirst for national power still rages unrestrained.

To this consideration are to be added others of still greater weight with
other classes of our community. Your Southern Empire, resting upon
slavery as its basis, must be conformed more and more to the spirit and the
forms which slavery requires. A standing army will be your first necessity;
and the rigor with which your slave population are kept in subjection must
increase from year to year. You will have less\nd less of education, more
and more of brute force ; and your slaves will sink lower and lower in the
scale of creation with every succeeding year. You know enough of Northern
character to estimate the eflect which this would have upon the minds of the
conscientious portion of our Northern people, and how thoroughly it would
alienate them from their new neighbors. You could not count upon their
forbearance or their sympathy in the slightest degree. Every little misun-
derstanding that might arise would swell the hostility of the two peoples,
and bring them into inevitable and deadly collision.

Even, therefore, if at the outset the impulses of onr people should prompt
an assent to your secession, it could not be permanent. Just now the fooling
of the North seems to be in favor of letting you go. This is the first prompt-
ing of the genuine kindness that pervades the popular heart, — an indi<posi-
tion to do injury to an}- section. — a hope that both may go along peacefully
and prosperously without collision or strife of any kind. But a very little
reflection will show the futility of such expectations. The thing is iinp.^-i-

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 419

ble. The only condition of our remaining at peace Is that we remain one.
Disunion means war; a war of conquest, a war of subjugation on the one
side or the other. You may say it would be hopeless to attempt to subjugate
the South. Possibly; but this is a point which nations never take for
granted in advance. It is not the conviction of the masses of our people.
They believe the South to be comparatively weak ; and this belief, whether
just or not, will do all its mischief by leading to the beginning of war.
What the end will be the future alone could show.

South Carolina must not expect, therefore, to be recognized by the Fed-
eral Government as an independent State, without a war. Any such recogni-
tion by an administration, as a mere legislative act, would be treason to the
Constitution, and would justify a revolution. It can only be done through,
an amendment of the Constitution; by a formal dissolution of the nation,
and the creation of another upon its ruins. To that the people, who consti-
tute the nation, will never consent. You must win your independence, if
you win it at all, just as every other nation has done — by the sword.

NO AID FROM FOREIGN POWERS.

But you count upon the assistance of foreign powers ; especially of France
and England. This seems to me the wildest dream that ever misled the
minds of desperate or oversanguine conspirators. How has Louis Napoleon
kept his imperial throne, but by taking his people into alliance with him, by
representing in his person and policy their sentiments, their ideas, their
passion especially for making themselves the champions of freedom in other
lands? The French idea of liberty is freedom to make others free. The
Italian war was popular, because it was a war to liberate the enslaved
Italians. The first indication of a possible desertion of that cause, and an
alliance with the princes who had oppressed them, shook the imperial throne.
How long would he hold that throne if he were to wage a war in support of
Austria, either in Italy or in Hungary? Now, any interference of France on
your behalf would be an interference on behalf of slavery. And these same
considerations are still stronger when applied to England. The people of
England are fanatical in their hatred of negro slavery. And no ministry
that should give the slightest hint of favor to a movement for slavery in any
form could hold its place a week.

Nor can you presume at all upon the hatred of free institutions which pre-
vails among the governments of Europe. That hatred does not pervade the
people ; nor can it, therefore, to any considerable extent, influence the action
of the governments, especially of England and France, where the popular
will has controlling weight. England's dominant purpose just now, more-
over, is t-> secure the alliance of the United States, in preparation for the
great struggle between free ami absolute governments, which she thinks is
impending. Besides all this, the great interest of both England and France,
so far as this country is concerned, is commcrcf. Whatever promotes their
trade with us brings them all the advantage they can ever expect to reap
from their relations with us. And whatever promotes our prosperity, and
our ability to sell and buy, builds up that trade. Neither of these countries
has the slightest interest in our disunion, or in any differences which shall

420 APPENDIX.

retard our growth. They may deprecate the imitation of our example in
their own countries. They may declaim against us, and point out our weak-
nesses and faults to prevent their owu people from introducing universal
suffrage, the vote by ballot, and annual parliaments. But they have no wish
for our downfall, as they have no interest in it. Neither of them could sus-
tain any heavier blow than the destruction of our commerce would involve.

Nor will either of them recognize the independence of any seceding South-
ern State until that independence shall have become an established fact,
by the recognition of our own government, or by such demonstration of its
ability to maintain it by force of arms as shall leave no room for doubt. Pre-
cisely the same course will be pursued in this case as was pursued in that of
Texas, and as is pursued in every case under similar circumstances. Any at-
tempt on the part of any foreign power to aid in the rebellion of a Southern
State, would be an act of open and flagrant hostility to the government of the
United States, and would be resented as such. Whatever might be the dis-
position of our government towards secession, we should never permit a
foreign power to interfere in a matter so purely of domestic concern.

If 3-ou enter upon this matter of secession, you must enter upon it alone.
You will have no help from any foreign power — neither troops, nor ships,
nor arms. You cannot borrow money anywhere, because you have nothing
whatever to pledge for its security. You have neither credit nor the means
of gaining credit abroad. The only one of the slaveholdiug States which has
ever tried the faith of foreign creditors to any extent has, by her shameless
repudiation, — her steady breach of faith, — branded the whole section to
•which she belongs with the ineffaceable marks of disgrace and distrust; —
and the example of Mississippi will be a perpetual warning to every capi-
talist in Europe against lending a dollar to any Southern State. You cannot
call upon your own people for supplies, for their sole wealth consists in
negroes and lands, which, in case of war, will fall to a tithe of tbeir present
value. Nor can you conceal from yourselves any more than from the rest of
the world the dreadful clanger you would incur, of an insurrection of slaves
from one end of the South to the other, the moment they shall see you en-
gaged in a war against States which are seeking, as you have taught them to
believe, to effect their emancipation. All these accumulated horrors you
must face alone, — relying upon your own resources, without a word or a
thought of sympathy from any nation on earth, — under the frown of all
Christendom, — with the settled conviction in the breasts of half your own
people that you are fighting against every impulse of humanity, every ten-
dency of the Christian civilization of the age which shall witness this
strange, this horrible contention I

THE COTTON ARGUMENT.

You rely on cotton to save you from all this. " The world must have our
cotton," you say. " England must have it, or her looms will stop — her work-
men will be thrown out of employment — riots, starvation, and civil war will
desolate her realm. She will open our ports, if the Federal Government
shall persist in closing them." If you rely upon such a hope to sustain you
through the dread ordeal of revolution, you are destined to a rude disenchant-

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 421

ment. You can no more prevent either England or the North from procuring
your cotton, if you find leisure from war to raise it, than you can prevent
•water from running to the sea. The laws which regulate the currents of
trade are just as fixed and unchangeable as the laws which govern matter.
We may not understand them so thoroughly, but we know enough of them to
know that we can no more withstand or change their operation than we can
that of the laws of gravity. Of what avail were the Berlin and Milan decrees,
though backed by a million men in arms? Upon whom fell the weight of the
old embargo which you are threatening to renew?

You may make as many laws as you please, — you can never prevent your
cotton from finding its way to the market where it commands the highest
price ; and if you could, your own people would be the first to perish under
the operation. For why do you raise cotton but to sell it? You can neither
eat it, nor drink it, — nor feed your slaves with it, — nor wear it until you
have sent it abroad or to the North to be manufactured. Even now you buy
from the North every year a hundred and fifty millions of dollars' worth of
food and utensils of labor and other necessaries of life, — which you must
have, and which you cannot get unless you pay for them with your only great
product, — your sole reliance, — the cotton which you raise. You could dis-
tress England if you could withhold your cotton; but it would be at the cost
of starvation and ruin at home. The manufacture of cotton is but one
branch of British industry; but the selling of cotton is the only reliance of
the Southern States. Blot that out, and you blot out the prosperity and even
the existence of Southern industry. You not only ruin the planter, and drive
his slaves to starvation or insurrection, but you kill the business of every
Southern railroad, the traffic of every Southern river, the labor of every
Southern city. In such a contest of physical and financial endurance, which
would hold out longest, England or the Southern States? Which would re-
pent soonest, the English mill-owner or the Southern planter?

You expect to invite the ships of the world to your ports by making them
free. This is your main reliance for ruining the commerce of the North and
turning its wealth into your own channels. You must remember, in the first
place, that you can have no free trade until you have achieved your indepen-
dence. But waiving that obstacle for the moment, you must know that
such a policy on your part would be met, whenever it should become neces-
sary to meet it at all, by a corresponding policy on ours. Charleston, Balti-
more, Savannah, New Orleans, could not be free ports many mouths before
Boston, New York, and Philadelphia would be free ports also. With the
advantages we; should have at the outset, — our enormous mercantile marine,
our trained and hardy sailors, our skill in ship-building, and our capital
already inve>ied in commerce, can you doubt the result of such an unequal
race? You rely on the manufactories of New England and Pennsylvania to
prevent such a result. And even so sensible a man as Mr. Stephens predicts
universal anarchy at the North as the effect of disunion. He has much to
learn of the temper and spirit of the North if he anticipates any such result.
Undoubtedly great interests in both the^e sections would suffer serious injury
from the adoption of a free-trade policy; but oilier interests would train just
as much, and the versatility of our people is so great that they would very
speedily adapt themselves to the changed necessities of the case. If New

422 APPENDIX.

York were a free port her commerce would be doubled in ten years. In spite
of everything the. South could do, — in spite of tariffs, attempted prohibi-
tions and bounties upon commerce, the North, through her manufactures, or
her commerce, would supply, as she does now, every plantation in every
Southern State with every article of luxury which would be needed from
abroad.

I pass over in this place all considerations of the domestic difficulties you
would encounter in your enterprise, — your differences as to the form of
government to be established ; — the clashing of interests between the sev-
eral sections of your own Confederacy; — the heavy direct taxation by which,
under a free-trade policy, all the expenses of your government must be met;
— the fundamental and fatal question on what kinds of property and in what
proportions that tax should be levied ; — your exposure to the hostility of the
whole civilized world, and the impossibility of your raising a navy where-
with to meet it; — all these and many other practical difficulties, which would
obstruct your progress at every step, may safely be dismissed, in the present
discussion, with this bare reference to them.

These, then, are the reasons which lead me to believe that you will not
succeed in your enterprise of destroying this Union and erecting a new
slaveholding and slave-trading empire on its ruins. I have still to consider
the duty of the north and the true policy of the South in the political crisis
which yo,u have brought upon the country. But that I must reserve for a
concluding letter.

IV. THE PRECISE NATURE OF THE PENDING ISSUE — THE
DUTY OF THE NORTH AND THE TRUE POLICY OF THE
SLAVEHOLDING STATES.

NEW YORK, Tuesday, Dec. 25, 1860.

HON. "W. L. YANCEY, — Sir : In my last letter I gave you my reasons for
regarding Secession as simply Revolution, and for believing that it can
neither be peaceful nor successful. I propose now to state my understanding
of the nature of the contest, and my reasons for hoping that it will not be
compromised nor postponed, but finally settled, by whatever process and
through whatever tribulations may be necessary.

I do not mean to say that I am opposed to measures of conciliation in the
present crisis. I am not. I regard the present excitement at the South as
artificial, or, at least, as feverish and unnatural. It has been produced by
temporary stimulants, aud unfits the Southern people from making and meet-
ing the real issue on its merits. You and your confederates have filled the
Southern mind with the most perilous misrepresentations concerning the
Republican party. You have taught them to regard it as an Abolition party,
and have assured them that its advent to power would be the signal for a
violent crusade against the rights of the Southern States and the peace of
Southern society. The past five years have been devoted, with the utmost

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 423

zeal and assiduity, by all the leading politicians of the South, to the inculca-
tion of this fearful falsehood. Men of all parties there have joined in it;
not because they believed it, but because they had objects of political or per-
sonal ambition which could not be accomplished without it. They have done
their work thoroughly and effectually. The whole Southern mind is pervaded
with this baseless belief. On every plantation, by every fireside, in every
negro hut, the general talk is of corning emancipation. Lincoln and
the Republicans are talked about at the South as if they were a horde of
black and bloodthirsty savages, eager to feast on Southern sorrows, and to
plunge Southern society into anarch}' and insurrection. You have closed the
gates of the South against all efforts to correct these false impressions. No
journal that protests against them is permitted to circulate among the mass
of the Southern people. No man who knows their falsehood and their dan-
ger dare lift his voice to remonstrate. The delusion, fatal as it is false, is
hugged to the Southern bosom as if it were the anchor of their hopes, and
the only ground of their salvation.

The result of all this is an inflammation of the public mind, which renders
all chance of rational treatment for the moment hopeless-. The first thing to
be done is to allay that inflammation, — to bring the South into a sane and
healthy mood, — to prevent her, if possible, from inflicting upon herself some
rash and insane blow while the access of the fever is on, and thus obtain time
.and opportunity for a more sensible and radical treatment of the case. And
for this purpose I am willing to resort to any emollients that may be useful.
But, as the Republican party has no power, as }ret, to act in the premises, as
its foes, your confederates, are still entrenched in the citadel of Federal
power; all we can do is to use the language of conciliation, and make verbal
protest against the fundamental falsehood which is working all this wrong.

But this is only a temporary and preliminary process. It leaves the real
difference unadjusted ; and this the interest of the whole country forbids.
We have reached a point in our political history when the welfare of both
North and South requires that we should understand distinctly the basis on
which our government rests; the spirit which is to guide its administration;
the relations it is to hold to the institution of slavery. The election of Mr.
Lincoln marks an era in the political history of the country ; and his admin-
istration is to decide the issue and bring the conflict to a close.

SENTIMENTS AND POLICY OF THE FRAMERS OF THE CONSTITUTION CONCERX-

ING SLAVERY.

No unprejudiced person can study the history of the formation of the Con-
stitution of the United States, without perceiving that the founders of the
Republic had certain clear opinions concerning slavery; and, in spite of its
inherent difficulties and embarrassments, a distinct and definite policy in re-
gard to it. Those opinions were expressed more or less fully in their public
debates, and in their private correspondence, to which in part the lapse of time
has given us access; and their policy was embodied in the Constitution itself.

There is neither doubt nor controversy on the point that the fathers of
the Republic regarded slavery as an evil; as retarding both the material and
the moral progress of the society which tolerated it, as an element of weak-

424 APPENDIX.

ness to particular States, and of opprobrium to the whole country. They
did not consider slaveholding to be a sin, nor did they regard a slave-owner
as necessarily less moral, less Christian, or less estimable, than other men.
They did not favor immediate emancipation, because they knew that such a
step would be fatal to the negroes themselves, and highly dangerous to the
whole fabric of society. But. with scarcely an exception, they all desired
that some policy might be adopted looking towards its ultimate extinction.
These were their sentiments on the general subject. The action of conven-
tions and of legislatures, the speeches of statesmen, the correspondence of
public men of every grade, and of every section at that early day, abound in
evidence of this fact, which is as clearly and as fully established as any fact
of history can possibly be.

With these opinions they came to form a Constitution for the future Eepub-
lic, — " not for a day but for all time," — one which should not merely pro-
vide for immediate exigencies, but lay the basis of that great Union which it
created, and give permanent direction to its growth and government. And
they embodied in that Constitution just such practical provisions concerning
slaver}' as their opinions prompted, and as the end aimed at required. The
first and most conspicuous feature of that policy was to leave to the several
States all jurisdiction over the subject, as being purely one of local authority,
ignoring it entirely as a matter of Federal responsibility. The second step
was to provide for two exigencies which might arise from its disappearance
in some States, and its continued existence in others, namely, the suppres-
sion of insurrections, and the return of fugitives. And its third was to
clothe the General Government with power to prevent the increase of slavery
by prohibiting the importation of slaves after 1808. No person who is
entirely disinterested and candid in this matter can read the Constitution
and the history of its formation, without perceiving that this is its general
scope and drift. Nor will he doubt for a moment that the universal expecta-
tion of that clay was, that under this policy slavery would gradually die out;
that one State after another would take steps to abolish it, and to substitute
free labor in its place ; and that thus in the course of time it would cease to
exist in the whole country. This purpose was repeatedly declared in Con-
vention and elsewhere; and no one raised his voice against it. Not even
South Carolina, nor Georgia, the States which had the largest interest in
slavery, even expressed a wish that it should be made perpetual ; and still
less did they demand that the Federal Government should guarantee its per-
manence. Not a voice was raised against the policy of ultimate extinction,
which was openly avowed, and which the Constitution was so framed as to
encourage and favor. The utmost of their claim was, that within their own
limits it should be left solely and exclusively to their own control. And that
claim was conceded to the fullest extent.

This policy thus embodied in the Constitution was accepted by the whole
countr}r with alacrity, and the active measures of the government were all
framed with a view to carry it into full effect. Through all the successive
administrations of the next quarter of a century the tendency was in the
same direction, and with such occasional exceptions as circumstances ren-
dered unavoidable, its action was towards emancipation. The ordinance of
1787, re-enacted by Congress at the very outset of its career, prohibited

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 425

slavery from the North-west Territory. The repeated requests of Indiana to
be relieved from this prohibition were refused. In the act organizing the
Louisiana Territory, then newly acquired by purchase from France, specific
provisions were made, forbidding the introduction of slaves except from
other States, and then only natives thereof. In 1807, Congress exercised its
power, which had been restrained by the Constitution until that time, and
under heavy penalties prohibited the importation of slaves from abroad.
Not a voice was raised in Congress against the act. Even the members from
Georgia and Carolina concurred in its wisdom and policy; and the only
question that was raised related to the penalties for its violation, and to the
manner of disposing of the Africans who might be brought to the country in
defiance of law. Paripassu with this action of the General Government for
the prevention of the increase of slavery, was that of the State Governments
to promote its abolition. Massachusetts, Vermont, and Ohio had already
prohibited its existence within their limits, and six other States had \
laws providing for gradual and prospective emancipation. Abolition socie-
ties existed in most of the States, and delegates from the South attended
regularly at the annual meeting held in Philadelphia. The same general sen-
timent which had existed at the formation of the Constitution continued to
pervade the whole country. Even Mr. Early, the member of Congress from
Georgia, whose views on the subject were, perhaps, more ultra than those
of any other member, said, in the debate on prohibiting the slave-trade, that,
although a large majority of the people in the Southern States did not con-
sider slaveholding as a n-fmc, many deprecated it as a political evil, and that
" reflecting men apprehend incalculable evils from it at some future day."
And Mr. Holland, of North Carolina, in the same debate, said that " slavery
was ii> Hi i-'illij considered a political evil, and that in that point of view nearly
all were disposed to stop the trade for the future."

This was the sentiment of the whole country, and it continued to animate
and guide its action. The Federal Government had gone as far as it had any
constitutional power to go in the matter, and the rest was left to the wi>e
discretion of the State Governments, whose control of the subject was con-
ceded to be full and exclusive. And the whole country rested peacefully
under this state of things. There was nothing like fanaticism in either stc-
tiou, or among the partisans of either side. Very many men had very strong
convictions of hostility to slavery on moral grounds, but they did not bring
those hostilities to the political discussions of the subject. And on the
other hand very serious distrust of the free negroes was growing up in those
Southern States where the slaves were most numerous, and in some of them
it was found necessary to fix such checks on emancipation as should atlbrd
some security for the good behavior of those who should be set free. As
early as in \~W> North Carolina had forbidden emancipation except for meri-
torious service*. In 1800, South Carolina had required the consent of a jus-
tice of the prace, and of live di>intercstcd freeholders to the emancipation
of any slave; and even Virginia and Kentucky seriously restrained the lib-
erty of free negroes within their respective lim'ts.

It is not ncce>sary to trace in detail the pro^re^s of the change which came
over the sentiment of the Southern States on this subject. Owing primarily,
without doubt, to the increased culture of cotton, slave labor became more

426 APPENDIX.

and more profitable, and the States in which cotton grew became more and
more averse to emancipation. Every step away from that original policy of
the country led to a corresponding anxiety on the subject in the North.
Still the general tendency was towards emancipation. By slower and slower
steps, and against increased hostilities, but steadily, nevertheless, the move-
ment made its way southward. As late as in 1832 the State of Virginia dis-
cussed the subject ; and her ablest men boldly and fearlessly pressed upon the
people the evils, material, moral, and social, which were inseparable from the
institution, and urged the absolute necessity of its removal. Our present
minister in France, Mr. Faulkner, used language in that convention in denun-
ciation of slavery, for which you will find no parallel now, except in the
heated harangues of the abolitionists of the present day. "The idea of a
gradual emancipation and removal of the slaves from this Commonwealth,"
said he, "is coeval with the declaration of your own independence from the
British yoke."

THE NEW THEORY OF SLAVE PROPERTY IN THE CONSTITUTION.

Down to this period whatever differences existed on the subject of slavery,
there was but one opinion as to its relations under the Constitution to the
Federal Government. Mr. Calhoun introduced a new theory on the subject.
He brought forward the doctrine that the Constitution recognized slaves as
property ; that, indeed, slaves were the only property which was expressly
recognized and guaranteed by the Constitution, and that the slaveholder
must therefore be protected in its enjoyment by the power of the Federal
Government, wherever he might go within its jurisdiction and under its
authority. Upon this principle he must not only have liberty to take his
slaves into any territory of the United States, but must be enabled to hold
them there as slaves, by virtue of the Constitution, in spite of any law of
Congress or of the territories which should attempt to forbid it. And that
is the principle for which you are contending to-day. At the outset it had
very few supporters. No political party, either at the North or South, took
ground in its favor. The Democratic party everywhere scouted it. The
people in every section of the country repudiated it with indignation. In
spite of the progress it had made in the minds of Southern politicians, even
so lately as last spring, the Democratic party of the Union suffered itself to
be severed, dispersed in convention, and defeated at the polls, rather than
give it their assent.

Here is the " irrepressible conflict." It is between the Constitution as our
fathers made it, and the new Constitution which you are seeking to put in its
place. You are not content with that instrument as it stands, unless you can
engraft upon it the new principle, utterly unknown to its framers, or rather
distinctly and intentionally excluded from it by them, that, namely, of abso-
lute and indefeasible property in slaves.

Hitherto you have been contending that this principle is actually embodied
in the present Constitution. We ask you where? Point to the section
which contains it. You say it is in that section which provides for their rep-
resentation in Congress. But does the fact that they are represented make
them property, — or imply that they are property ? On the contrary, it iru-

DISUNION AND SLAVERY.

427

plies that they are not: — for property is not represented anywhere in our
government. It is one of our boasts that this is a government of persona,
and not of property, — that it is in the hands of the people, — that the repre-
sentatives who make its laws and wield its power are the agents and repre-
sentatives of persons, and not of property. If this clause, then, constitutes
an exception to this general rule, you must show it by something in its lan-
guage, or by something in the circumstances of the case which leaves no
room for doubt. But the language of the clause is directly in the teeth of
your claim. The representation specified is that of " three- fifths of all other
persons," — besides those mentioned in the previous portion of the sentence.
The fact that they are described as persons is at least presumptive evidence
that they are not regarded by the Constitution as property ; and there is noth-
ing in the circumstances of the case to overthrow that presumption. You
may say your local law regards them as property, — and the Federal Consti-
tution must, therefore, regard them iu the same light. Not at all; your local
law cannot control the intent of the Constitution, for if it could, all you would
have to do in order to change the Constitution would be to change your
local law. You may say that though entering into the representation of the
country they have no vote, — no voice, no will, in its government, — and that
this fact affords a fair implication that they are represented as property.
Not at all ; for on such a basis your women and children — who have no vote,
and are nevertheless represented — would be property also. But they are
taxed, you say, and therefore they are property. No; they are not taxed, but
are only made a rneans of determining the ratio of taxation. Taxation
by the Constitution, although paid by property, falls upon property, not ac-
cording to its amount, but according to population ; and when three-fifths of
the slaves are counted, therefore, as a basis of taxation, it is only to deter-
mine the taxable population and not at all to fix the amount of taxable prop-
erty.

I can find nothing whatever in this clause, therefore, which gives any
show of justice to your claim.

You refer me next to that clause which permits the importation of slaves
until 1808, — as proving that they were regarded as subjects of commerce,
and therefore as property. The language used does not sustain the assump-
tion. The permission granted is for " the migration or importation of such
persons as any of the States now existing -may think proper to admit." Now
this applies just as strongly to the migration or importation of Germans or
of Irishmen as of negroes. There is nothing in the language used by which
you could determine which were meant. Yet you would scarcely pretend that
it was meant that Irishmen "imported" under that, permission became
thereby property; yet the presumption in the one case would be just as
strong as in the other.

Finally you cite the fugitive slave cause as conclusive proof that slaves are
property in the intendmcut of the Constitution. That clause simply de-
clares that "persons held to service or labor in one State, under the laws
thereof, escaping into another," shall be delivered up. They are called per-
sons; in what word or phrase do you llnd the Implication that they are re-
garded as property? Does the fact that they are " held to service or labor"
make them property ? Certainly not, — for apprentices, minors, and day-

428 APPENDIX.

laborers are held to service 01 labor, — and yet they do not thereby become
property. Does the fact that they are to be " delivered up," make them prop-
erty? Certainly not, — for fugitives from justice are also, by a preceding clause
to be delivered up, — and yet nobody pretends that this fact makes them prop-
erty.

Now these are all the clauses of the Constitution in which slaves are re-
ferred to in any way, — and there is nothing in any one of them which gives
the least countenance to your claim. They are represented as persons, and
not as property ; they were imported as persons, and not as property ; they
are to be delivered up, when they escape, as persons, and not as property.

THE REAL ISSUE AND THE NECESSITY OF DECIDING IT.

The real question at issue between the North and South (using these
terms as convenient designations of the two opposing parties) turns upon
this point, — which involves all others, — Are slaves property, in the meaning
and intendment of the Constitution? Dv they stand in the view, and under
the provisions, of that instrument, on the same footing as other property ? You
answer Yes ; we answer No. And you are threatening to dissolve the Union
unless we will also answer Yes. Nay, more, — you are already endeavoring
to dissolve it, because we persist in answering No !

This is the question which I think should be finally settled now. I think
the whole country is of the same opinion. Undoubtedly there are a great
many persons in both sections who deprecate joining issue upon it. They
prefer that it should be evaded or compromised. Some of them dread the
disturbance — the damage to business — the alienation of feelings — the pos-
sible perils and devastations of war to which a final settlement of the ques-
tion may give rise. Others underrate its importance, and see no reason why
the great current of our national prosperity should be interrupted, in order
to settle an abstract point of constitutional interpretation. But I think the
great body of the reflecting portion of the people regard it in a different
light. They know that the issue is one of principle, — that it takes hold on
the fundamental conditions of the national life, — and that until it is dis-
tinctly and decisively settled, by a final and authoritative judgment, in which
the whole country shall come to acquiesce, we can have no hope of peace and
no chance of escape from these constant and disturbing agitations. If the
difference were trifling in its nature, or temporary in its effect, there would
be no such necessity. It might then be compromised. But it is vital. Its
decision stamps the character of our government, and gives a direction to its
policy which it must keep to the end of its existence. If your demands be
complied with, slavery becomes one of the essential, ineradicable elements of
our national life — just as vital and as permanent in it as the principle of
Republicanism, as freedom of speech, trial by jury, or freedom of religious
worship. Your aim is, in the sharp, clear phrase of the day, to nationalize
slavery, — to make it a national instead of a local institution, — not neces-
sarily for the purpose of carrying slaves into every part of the country, but to
make the supreme law of every part slave law. You demand that slavery
shall no longer stand as an exceptional institution, ignored by the General
Government, frowned upon by civilization, and under the ban of Christendom ;
but that it shall take its fixed place as only one form of the eternal iustitu-

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 429

tion of property; that, as the law of real estate, and the law of chattel
property, are recognized as fixed and enduring parts of the great code of the
world, so the law of slave property shall have its place, equally stable and
equally honorable, wherever the flag of the United States, and the power
which that flag symbolizes and represents, can compel its recognition.

Now this is not a point to be compromised. It never has been compro-
mised, nor will it ever be — because it is, in its nature, incapable of com-
promise. Our country must be one thing or the other. Our Constitution
must either thus recognize slavery, or it must not. All our compromises
hitherto, numerous and important as they have been, have evaded this great
central point of the whole subject. They have all turned on questions of
temporally and local expediency ; whether slavery should exist in this place
or in that; by what forms and by whose agency fugitive slaves should be re-
captured; into which sectional scale the political weight of this or that new
State should be thrown ; whether we should make this or that addition to our
national territory, even at the risk of increasing the area of slavery. All these
issues have arisen and have been settled on the basis of compromise. But
iione of them involved the great point at which nevertheless all of them
aimed. They were the approaches to the citadel, — tentative demonstrations
towards conquering the Constitution; but every one of them might have been
yielded without actually giving up that still uncouquercd Malakoff of lib-
erty. But now you have brought your batteries to the central tower, and we
are summoned to surrender. That question does not admit of compromise.
It must be settled. The flag of liberty must still float from the ramparts of
the Constitution, or you must take it down. This is the " irrepressible con-
flict." We do not make it — nor invite it; but if you insist upon it, we shall
not shrink from its issues.

WHAT IS SLAVERY IN THE CONSTITUTION?

But this, you say, is making war upon slavery; this discards and ignores
all the constitutional guaranty of slavery ; this is an open declaration of
hostility to the institutions of the Southern States. Not at all. You are put-
ting an interpretation upon it growing out of your own theories, — based
upon your own assumptions, — not warranted by the fact. We are perfectly
willing to take the Constitution as it stands, — to leave slavery upon the
basi.-l which it provides for it, and to fullil every obligation, express or im-
plied, which it imposes. And in determining what those obligations are, we
look first for a constitutional definition of slavery, — as the treatment of the
subject must depend upon its nature; and we find that definition, in just such
clear and precise terms as the Constitution always employs, in the following
clause : —

" No person htlrl to service or labor in one State, tinder the laws thereof, escaping into another,
shall, in consequence of any law or regulation therein, bo discharged from such service or
labor, but shall bo delivered up on chum of the party to whom such service or labor may bo
due."

We regard this as the definition which the Constitution gives to the word
slave, — or, which amounts to the same thing, as the phrase which the frarn-

430 APPENDIX.

ers of the Constitution employed as, in their judgment, synonymous with
that word. And it establishes these points : —

1. A slave is a PERSON.

2. The characteristic feature of his condition, that which distinguishes
him from other persons, is that he is "held to service or labor," not by con-
tract, but by law.

3. The legal holding to service or labor is in a State, — and "under the
laws thereof; " that is, — the condition of a slave is created and maintained
only by the law of the locality or State in which he is "held," — not by any
law common to all localities, or all States.

4. Under ordinary circumstances, and in the absence of any provision to
the contrary, whenever the slave shall leave that State in which, and
"under the law" of which, he is "held," — he might be discharged from his
" service " in, and by the law of, the new locality into which he should enter.
The Constitution provides, therefore, that he shall not be thus discharged on
two conditions, — (f) that this new locality be another State, and (2) that
he has <; escaped " into it.

There is the "slave-code" of the Constitution. That is the basis on
which slavery rests, so far as the Constitution of the United States is con-
cerned. If slavery anywhere implies anything more than this, it must be by
virtue of some lo'cal law. If slavery in Georgia or South Carolina is some-
thing more than this, it must be by force of some law of Georgia or South
Carolina. This is all that the Federal Constitution knows about a slave —
the full extent to which it goes in recognizing his slave-condition. The lan-
guage is perfectly clear and unmistakable, so far as its definition of slavery,
in its relations to the Federal Government, is concerned. In its positive
provisions for " delivering up " the fugitive slave, it becomes ambiguous. It
leaves in doubt the points by what authority, and under what forms, the
fugitive is to be " delivered up," whether by federal authority, or by State
authority, or under the provisions of the common law. Upon these points
there is room for doubt, and possibly a necessity for greater explicitness ;
but that explicitness, if it be afforded, must conform to the previous defini-
tion — not violate or overthrow it.

THE IRREPRESSIBLE CONFLICT.

You are in the habit of charging the North with having produced all the
sectional discontent that now prevails by departing from the Constitution. I
will not say that there is no truth in the allegation. Possibly we have, in
some particulars, been less rigid in adhering to that instrument than we
should have been. But none of these deviations on our part will compare
with that great change which you demand in its essential elements and
character. Nor have they caused your discontent. As I have already shown
in these letters, it is not our Personal Liberty bills, nor our failure to sur-
render fugitives, nor the practical inability of slaveholders to take their
slaves into the territories, that creates the difficulty. That difficulty has
grown out of your determination to make a new Constitution. It is due prima-
rily, and therefore entirely, to your departure from the policy of the Fathers
of the Republic, as that policy was embodied in the Constitution, — as it

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 431

stands revealed in the language of that instrument, and interpreted by the
opinions and sentiments of the men who made it. You demand that prin-
ciples shall be engrafted upon it which they carefully and intentionally ex-
cluded from it. As you stated in your Montgomery speech, " an entirely
new idea has sprung np in the South" on the subject of slavery, — and
you demand that this new idea shall be embodied in the Constitution.
Hitherto, to be sure, you have sought this end by construction, — by k-gi<la-
tion, — by the language of party platforms, —by decrees of the Supreme
Court, rather than by open 'and direct amendments. But now you insist
upon the reconstruction of the Constitution itself, and the adoption into its
language of the ideas and principles for which you contend. The "irrepres-
sible conflict" is, therefore, not between the North and the South, — but be-
tween the South and the Constitution. You have found the present Consti-
tution, so far as your purposes are concerned, a failure. Unless, therefore, it
can be overthrown by amendments, you are determined to overthrow it by
force. I do not think you will succeed in either.

THE DUTY OF THE NORTH.

Now what is to be done ? You have brought the issue to its present point.
As a matter of necessity and of policy, you seek to throw the whole blame of
the controversy upon the North. If we had not resisted your claims, there
would have been no sectional contest. That is perfectly true; and it
true, that if you had not made these claims, we should not have r<
them. But since you haw made them, and since we do resist them, the con-
flict must go on until one party or the other recedes, or is defeated. I see
no possible way of avoiding this. But a great deal may be done towards
creating a conciliatory disposition on both sides — towards inducing each
party to lay aside something of its passion, something of its obstinate adhe-
sion to its own views on minor matters, and to canvass the grounds of the
controversy in the light of principle, of the Constitution, of the highest good
of the whole country and of all its parts, — instead of the prejudices, the
arrogance, and the pride of any section. So far as my experience and read-
ing go, they teach me that very few controversies between communities or
individuals have ever arisen, that did not rest aufond on a misunderstanding,
— and that did not grow into formidable proportions more from the introduc-
tion into them of minor exasperations from alieu causes, than (V >;n any in-
herent impossibility of agreeing on the precise point involved. I think it is
so to some extent in the present case: and that the lirst duty of each section
is first to adjust or sweep away* all minor points of difference, — to calm the
fever of passion, to open wide the door to a mutual knowledge of each other's
real sentiments, wants, and purposes, and to bring to the council-board a real
wish to find the path of honor and safety for both. What, then, is the duty
of the North in this respect?

Its first duty, in my judgment, is to manifest its ,], -,jre to accommodate
the rational and conservative men of the South by whatever concessions and
compromises their actual necessities may require, and which cai;
without surrendering the vital principle which is involved. In iv-ard to the
Fugitive Slave law, for example, the North should unquestionably filial the

432 APPENDIX.

obligation which the Constitution imposes, — in its letter, where that is pos-
sible, and in its spirit, where nothing more can be accomplished. Every
fugitive from service should be delivered up ; and where, from violence, or
any other cause for which the North or any portion of its people are clearly
responsible, this endeavor is defeated, they should compensate the person to
whom the service or labor of the fugitive was due, for the pecuniary loss he
may have sustained in consequence of that default. You may say this is not
a fulfilment of the obligation ; that the Constitution requires the absolute
surrender of the fugitive, at ail hazards; and that any scheme of compensa-
tion is only an evasion. But you would not apply this unbending rule to any
other subject. All laws are to be obeyed literally; but in case of their vio-
lation or default, the law itself, as well as common sense, accepts damages as
the equivalent. The object of the Fugitive Slave law is to protect the slave-
holder from loss on account of the escape of the person " owing him service
or labor "into another State; and if this object cannot be attained by the
literal delivery of the fugitive, compensation is all that remains. A railroad
company is bound to transport its passengers in safety; it contracts to do so.
But if it breaks a passenger's leg, it responds in damages, and is held acquit-
ted. Even if slaves were property, this would be all you could claim in law
or in equity.

So in regard to invasions of the Southern States ; the North is in duty
bound to give such practical guaranties as the case admits against them.
The duty of the North on this point is very clearly and emphatically set forth
in the fourth article of the platform of the Republican party adopted at Chi-
cago, — in these terms : —

" That the maintenance inviolate of the rights of the States, and especially the right of each
State to order and control its own domestic institutions according to its own judgment, EXCLU-
SIVELY, is essential to that balance of power on which the perfection and endurance of our politi-
cal fabric depends ; — and we denounce the lawless invasion by armed force of any State or Terri-
tory, no matter under what pretext, as among the GRAVEST OF CRIMES."

This is the doctrine of the Administration which comes into power on the
4th of March next. It pledges the Republican party to practical measures
for the suppression of such invasions; and I think it is the duty of that party
to bring forward a law in Congress which shall make every such attempt to
overthrow the sovereign authority of any State, by armed invasion from any
other State, a grave crime against the Federal Government, and to punish it
accordingly. As the law now stands, such invasions are offences only
against the States invaded. John Brown. and his associates were tried and
executed under the laws of Virginia. The crime was primarily against that
State; but it ought also to have been a crime against the Federal Govern-
ment, which exists in part for the very purpose of promoting the general
tranquillity. I would not have Congress go so far as was proposed by Sena-
tor Douglas last winter, to punish any conspiracy in one State to entice
away slaves from any other, — for this, besides encountering still more for-
midable objections, would involve an unwarrantable and dangerous extension
of Federal power into the domestic concerns of the individual States. But
any armed iuvasion from one State, for the purpose of overthrowing the laws

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 433

and contesting the sovereignty of any other, ought to be suppressed and pun-
ished by the Federal authority.

So also, should the North make full provision for the suppression of negro
insurrections in any Southern State. The Constitution imposes upon the
General Government the duty of suppressing insurrection, and no one doubts
that servile insurrections are included in the obligation. Undoubtedly the
duty rests in the first instance upon the State of enforcing its own laws;
but where its power should prove inadequate, especially in presence of so
formidable and horrible a form of danger as a rebellion of slavesanvolves, it
should receive the aid of the Federal arm. Southern writers are In the habit
of speaking of Northern communities as eager to plunge the South into the
horrors of servile war, — as indifferent to the nameless deeds of butchery and
outrage which such a war would involve, and to the general ruin which it
would bring in its train. There could be no more serious error. The great
mass of the people of the North look upon such contingencies with the same
shuddering horror that moves the South. Their sympathies are with their
brethren of the same race, and they would lend their aid promptly and cheer-
fully, if it should be needed, to defend them from such catastrophes. If there
are any misgivings on the part of the South on this subject, which judicious
^action of the Federal Government could allay, I have no doubt that the North
would readily assent. We have no interests to be served, — no resentments
to be gratified, — no aims to be promoted by the forcible overthrow of South-
ern society or the violent rupture of Southern institutions. On the contrary,
whatever helps the South helps us. Whatever builds up her prosperity builds
up ours. We share her success, her burdens, and her shame. And we should
never stand by and see her peace assailed, and her existence threatened, by
foreign or domestic foes, without coming to her aid.

THE TERKITORIAL QUESTION.

Now here are three points which touch most nearly the interests and the
safety of the slaveholding States, — especially of those which lie along the
Northern border; and on each of them I think the North would readily
agree to do What all must concede to be substantially just and right.

Another point of difference arises in regard to the territories, into which
men from both North and South may wish to emigrate. They are the prop-
erty of the United States, and the people of each State have an undivided,
and pro rata an equal, interest in their ownership. It is clearly right that
every citizen who goes into them should stand there upon an equal legal foot-
ing with every other citizen; that whatever one may lawfully take into
them, another may ; and that if one is prohibited from taking any special
thing, every oilier citizen should be prohibited from taking the same thing
also. So long as this rule is observed, it would not seem possible that any
complaint of inequality could be made, — for inequality of rights implies that
some things are conceded as rights to one class of persons, and denied to
another class. Nothing of this sort obtains in this case. A Southern man
can take into the territories whatever a Northern man can, and when there
both stand on an equal footing.

There is no difficulty in recognizing this perfect' equality of rights that
obtains between the two, so long as the question is thus limited to specific

434 APPENDIX.

things; it is only when some general term is used which includes many differ-
ent things, that doubts and differences arise. Every one can see that the
Southern man may take into the territories a horse, a half-eagle, a carriage,
or a cart, and that a Northern man may take precisely the same things, both
thus standing upon precisely the same footing. But when you ask if cacli
may take his property with him, you employ a term that needs defining; and
when you analyze it you find that it embodies two separate and distinct
ideas : first, the thing itself, and, second, the legal relations of that thing.
Thus, if two men go to Kansas, each accompanied by a negro, the first ques-
tion that arises on their arrival is, what is the relation of each to the negro
who is with him? One of the two asserts that his negro is his property,
because the law of Alabama from which he came made him so. The claim,
therefore, is that he brings with him not only the negro, but also the local
law of the State from which he comes, and on which he relies to establish
their relations. The man from Vermont can claim no such right, because he
has no such local law to bring. The inequality of their condition, therefore,
grows entirely out of the inequality in the laws of the States from which
they come ; and the real question is, whether that inequality shall be transferred
to the territories, or whether both shall leave behind them their discordant
State laws, and submit to the uniform and equal laws which the Sovereign
Authority, whatever it may be, may enact for the government of the terri-
tories.

You say your local law has vested in you an absolute right of property in
your slaves, and that you have the right, therefore, to take the creations of
that law with you. But you would not apply the principle to any other form
of property. A State law may give you a vested property right in a bank
charter, a lottery, a railroad, or a steamboat charter; but that right would be
valid only within the geographical jurisdiction of that law. No law can
give rights beyond the boundaries of its own authority. You say the Con-
stitution of the United States recognizes that vested right, and thus gives it
universality. Upon that point we join issue. We deny that there is any
such recognition; and the grounds of that denial I have already stated in the
preceding part of this letter. But, you say, this is depriving us of our prop-
erty, or of the right to take our property with us into the territories. Not at
all. It only deprives you of the right to take your property in a particular,
exceptional form — given to it solely by your local law. Yon can convert it,
while under the operation and protection of that local law, into another, a
larger, universal form, and thus take it with you wherever you wish to go.
You can sell your slaves and take with you the money, which as property is
their equivalent.

The whole difference in regard to the territories thus turns on the point
whether the absolute right of property in slaves is, or is not, recognized in
the Constitution. Indeed, this is the entire scope, the real heart and mar-
row, of the whole controversy between the North and South. And upon
this point I see no possibility of compromise. I do not believe that, under
any circumstances, the North will ever concede the right to take slaves as
property under the Constitution into the territories. I do not believe they will
ever consent to engraft, upon the Constitution a recognition of slave prop-
erty, which the frame.rs gf that, instrument carefully excluded from it. On

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 435

this point I think the great mass of the people of the Northern States are
immovable; and, in my judgment, they could not be otherwise without run-
ning upon evils of the most perilous magnitude. You are in the habit of
insisting upon this recognition as a matter of small importance; as intended
merely to give you an equal right to the enjoyment of the territorial property
of^he common Union, and as so palpably just, that it can only be denied
from a motive of contempt for the Constitution and for your rights under it.
But you know that this is not so. You know very well that, if the Constitu-
tion be so amended as to recognize this absolute, indefeasible right of prop-
erty in slaves, these consequences will follow : —

1. Any man may take a slave into any territory, and hold him and his pos-
terity there as slaves forever, and the Federal Government must protect him
in so doing.

2. Any man may take a slave into any State, and hold him and his posterity
as slaves there forever, under the protection of the Federal Government;
for the Constitution provides in express terms that no citizen shall be
deprived of his property except by due process of law ; and this provision,
like all others in the Constitution, is to be the supreme law of the land, any-

•thing in the Constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwith-
standing.

3. No slaveholdiug State will have any right to provide by law for the
emancipation of its slaves, without the consent of every owner, for that
would be a direct, unconstitutional interference with the right of property.

4. Slaves, being thus made property by the Constitution, must become the
subjects of commerce, domestic and foreign, on the same footing as other
property, and subject only to the same regulations and restrictions as may be
applied to all property alike. The laws of Congress, prohibiting the impor-
tation of slaves, being inconsistent with this constitutional provision, be-
come inoperative and void.

To indicate these results of the principle you wish us to recognize is suffi-
cient, without further argument, to show why it can never be admitted by
the Constitution, either by express amendment or by legislation that will
imply its existence. And this is erne of the reasons, perhaps the controlling
one, why the people of the North will never consent to the extension of
slavery into the territories as a matter of right.

I do not mean to say that they might not, under the pressure of circum-
stances, and in presence of some great necessity, assent to some compromise
on this subject, which would leave some portion of the Federal territory
open to slavery. But any such assent must rest wholly on grounds of expe-
diency, and not upon the claim of constitutional right.

It 4s a general impression at the Soiuh that the motive of the North in
resisting the extension of slavery is a desire to " pen it up," to confine it
within a small area, and let it there " sting itself to death; " in other words.
become so dangerous to soeiety as to compel its abolition as a :n< -asure of
self-defence. Undoubtedly this is a motive with many men: but I do not
believe it to be a eontrollini: motive with the North. I do not believe there
are five States in the Union a majority of whose people would vote for an
immediate, unprepared cmaneipation of the Sourtieni slaves, if that emanci-
pation depended exclusively on their votes. And still less wouid Uicy \ote

406 APPENDIX.

to compel that emancipation by measures which must involve Southern
white society in disaster and ruin. Our people do not seek to restrict
slavery in order to suffocate it. Their hostility to its practical extension
rests on a regard for the welfare of the territories, — an unwillingness to
increase the political power of slavery, — and a determination to do nothing
which shall make it perpetual and paramount in our Federal Councils. But
if the time should ever come when the South, for its own safety, needs Sh
outlet for its surplus slave population, I do not believe the North would
oppose such migration into some territorial region adapted to it. Indeed,
most men at the North who reflect upon the subject at all look to the grad-
ual drifting of slavery southward, both within and without the present limits
of the Union, as the only way in which it can ever be removed.

But whenever this is done, it must be done solely as a measure of expe-
diency, and not as a matter of constitutional right. Nor, in my judgment,
will the people ever consent that the Federal Government shall protect slave
property in any territories regardless of the will of their inhabitants, or that
any amendments shall be made to the Constitution changing the basis of
slavery, or substituting any new definition of the status of a slave. In other
words, I do not believe that threats of disunion, attempts at disunion, or
even the complete accomplishment of disunion, would induce the North to
give slavery any clearer recognition, or any higher place, in the Federal Con-
stitution, than it has at present. We ask you to abide by that Constitution.
We demand nothing more. Take it as our fathers made it. They yielded
much for the sake of the Union ; but you have no reason to believe that they
would have yielded more even from that high motive. No man then dared
or desired to propose that property in slaves should be recognized and stand
on the same footing, in all Federal and constitutional relations, as any other
species"1 of property; and if he had made the demand you cannot believe it
would have been conceded. The Union 5s less essential now to our national
greatness and prosperity than it was then. The people are stronger and
have more confidence in their strength, and they will not concede now what
would never have been conceded then.

THE NORTHERN DENUNCIATIONS OF SLAVERY — HOW THEY CAN BE SILENCED

AND SUPPRESSED.

But there still remains one grievance against which you demand security :
the denunciations of slavery in the Northern States. You complain that they
are dangerous and offensive, that they violate the comity which should
obtain between members of the same Union, and that they wound the pride
and the self-respect of the South. And you insist that they shall be stopped.
The press, the pulpit, the high places of political power, members of Con-
gress and State Legislatures, governors, lecturers, school-books, poetry,
history, novels, all forms of literature and of speech, are regarded as offend-
ers in this respect. All breathe a tone of hostility to slavery incompatible
with its peaceful existence, and destructive of all friendly relations between
the States.

The complaint finds some warrant in the facts of the case. But if you
seek a practical remedy you must look to the origin and the nature of the

DISUNION A'-; M.AVKUV. 437

disease. Some few of your publicists are insane enough to suppose that it
can be cured by legislative coercion. The result of the experiment which
you made in 1 *:!."> upon the Kight of Petition, one of tlie smallest features of
the general tendency, and one, moreover, which Congress had under its com-
plete control, must show the folly of such :i hope, even if all hi-tory and all
philosophy were not eloquent against it. You would find it infinitely
to reduce every Northern State to the condition of an abject provincial
dependency of South Carolina, than to expel this habit of free speech from
the Northern mind. Menaces of displeasure, threats of disunion, acts of
retaliation, simply heap fuel on the raging flames. You may exhort, remon-
strate, and reason with us on the subject. You may appeal to our sense of
justice and of fair-dealing, and we will listen to the plea, either acquiescing
in its equity or exposing its weakness. You have it in your power to make
the appeal availing; and it lies in the direction of removing the causes and
provocations of the hostile censures of which you complain. I do not mean
by this that you must abolish slavery, though unquestionably while slavery
exists it will be denounced. But if you would silence these hot and blister-
ing censures of the world, you must reform the system, and relieve it of
many of its present features.

You do not seem to be at all aware of the character and tendencies of the
civil society you are building up in the Southern States. It is not the mere
fact of slavery that constitutes its distinguishing feature, — but the kind of
slavery, and the influence it is exerting over the legislation, the morals and
manners, the thoughts and opinions of Southern society. When you read, u
few years ago, Mr. Gladstone's revelations of the nature of the government
of Naples, — how all freedom of speech was suppressed. — how men were im-
prisoned or exiled for uttering thoughts of liberty, or censures of official acts,
— how all free participation in public affairs was denied, and political activ-
ity rigidly restricted to the tools of the tyranny that ruled, — how the forms
of justice were abused to the purposes of oppression, and all society was
subjected to the authority offeree, aiming only at the absolute and perpetual
supremacy of a single, selfish interest; you had no difficulty in predicting the
ruin of such a system, and the utter overthrow of the power on which it
rested. You judge of the security of all foreign governments by the decree
to which they enlist the favor and friendly support of their subjects. When
the welfare of the masses is consulted and their rights respected, — wher-
ever the supreme authority makes the people its allies and aids, the govern-
ment is safe, because it has disarmed those who are liable to become its ene-
mies. But when the heavy hand of power is the only weapon u-ed, — when
justice means simply the welfare and the will of the dominant authority. y.ui
know perfectly well the fate which must overtake it. You can read the coin-
ing doom of Austria in Venetia in the character of the sway she ha>
lished there. You can see how idle it is to ask that the people of Piedmont,
enjoying freedom tin mselves. should not denounce and execrate the despot-
ism that crushes life and hope from the hearts of their immediate neighbors.
What fatal delusion blinds you to the same sad lesson, when it glares at you
from the pages of your own legislation?

438 APPENDIX.

THE TENDENCIES OF SOUTHERN CIVIL SOCIETY.

The worst tyranny of the. worst government which ever existed is fairly
paralleled in the current history of the Southern States. No man within
your borders dare-canvass fairly and publicly the wisdom of the leading feat-
ure of your own society. In this Republican government, where the people
choose their rulers, no man dare to-day avow openly in the Southern States
that he voted for the man who has been elected President of the Republic.
Freedom of speech, freedom of opinion, freedom of political action, are more
thoroughly stifled and extinguished in the South than in Austria, or Russia,
or the most absolute despotism on the face of the earth. And a still worse
feature of the case is, that this violence does not even think it necessary to
clothe itself in the forms of law. It is not by legal tribunals, — not by min-
isters of justice, — not even under pretence of legality, that these awful -out-
rages on the spirit of liberty are perpetrated. In all other lauds despotism
puts on the robes of legal form. It clothes itself in the outward garb of law,
even when it perpetrates the worst outrages upon its spirit. But in the
South it repudiates all restraint, — all form, — all respect for the opinions of
the world. It stalks abroad like a hideous savage, — scornful of civilization,
obeying only the impulse of its brutal nature, and lording it over courts and.
magistrates as imperiously as over the meaner subjects of its rule. You say
these lawless outrages are perpetrated only by the mob, the scum and ruffian-
ism, of the community. But where are the orderly, the respectable, the
civilized, and law-abiding portion of your people? Either they approve of
these acts, or they submit to them from stern necessity, and because they
dare not oppose them. In either case the result is the same. They are silent
and powerless. They have no voice in the government of their own society.
.And unless all history is false, nothing is more certain, than that they will
become victims of that savage despotism which they are powerless to with-
stand, against which they dare not even protest. Every year their danger
becomes more imminent, because the causes which create it become more
potent. They have surrendered the authority which they ought to wield with
prudence, with wisdom, and with due regard to the tendencies and influences
of the age, into the hands of brutal, reckless force, — which ignores all
equity, scoffs at all moral influences, and tramples like a beast upon every-
thing that stands in the way of tts will.

One immediate practical result of this policy is, that the great mass of your
people perform their most important political duties in utter ignorance of
the facts most essential to their just and intelligent discharge. Take the re-
cent Presidential canvass as an example. Mr. Lincoln was a candidate for
the Presidency. You asserted throughout the South that he was in favor of
the abolition of slavery; that he regarded the negro as the equal of the
white man, and was in favor of giving him equal social and political rights ;
that he and the party which supported him were pledged to open and deadly
hostility against the South,' and that his success would be the signal of
your ruin. The truth of these assertions was the most important point in-
volved in the contest, especially to the people of the Southern States. Did
you allow it to be freely and fairly canvassed? Your local journals echoed
the assertion, and closed their columns to anything that would discredit it.
Your postmasters — or rather the Federal postmasters upon your soil— re-

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 439

fused to deliver journals that denied and refuted it. You ignored or confis-
cated and destroyed the public speeches of Mr. Lincoln himself, by which its
truth or falsehood could have been decisively tested. You admitted from
abroad no newspapers but those which echoed and reaffirmed the abominable
slander, and you lynched every man at home who ventured to dispute it.
The effect of all this may be illustrated by a single incident.

I received a private letter not many days ago from an intelligent, upright,
fair-minded, and influential gentleman, — holding high public station in the
State of Mississippi, — in which he closed some remarks on the election by
saying: " A,nd when I say that I would regard death by a stroke of light-
ning to Mr. Lincoln as just punishment from an offended Deity for his infa-
mous and unpatriotic avowals, especially those made on a presentation of a
pitcher by some free negroes to Gov. Chase, of Ohio, you may judge how less
just and temperate men feel." Now, I have it on authority which you would
uot question, that "Mr. Lincoln never saw Gov. Chase in his life; that he
never attended a meeting of negroes, free or slave, in his life ; and that he never
saw a pitcher presented by anybody to anybody." But the statement was pub-
lished, originally, so far as I know, in the New York Herald, and circulated
throughout the South. No denial or correction was allowed to follow it.
What people or what nation can exercise the right of self-government with
judgment or justice, when they are thus shut up without defence to the
power of systematic falsehood? You fastened upon us the epithet of Black
Republicans; you have circulated the falsehood that our candidate for Vice-
president has negro blood in his veins; you might have asserted with the
same impunity that we were all negroes, — for you would have found North-
ern journalists and politicians base enough to countenance the lie, and your
domestic regulations would have prevented its effectual contradiction among
the masses of the people in the Southern States. Do you believe that such
a political sj'stem is consistent with safety?

CHARACTER AND TENDENCY OF THE SYSTEM OF SLAVERY.

I have referred thus far solely to the tyranny exercised over the white por-
tion of Southern society as one of the causes which provoke the denunciations
of which you complain. I know ver}r well, however, that it grows ou> of, and
is inseparable from, the system of government you have adopted for your
slaves. I have no wish to enter upon the details of that system. My object
is merely to designate its leading features, and I make no enumeration, there-
fore, of the countless illustrations of the system afforded in the every -day
life of the Southern plantation. The whole system rests on the assumption
that the negro is not a man. — that he is, if not absolutely a brute, at best a
link between the human and the brute creation; and that his place in soci-
ety is that of absolute subjection to the will not only of a master, but of an
owner; and that all the arrangements of society must be such as will keep
him and his descendants forever in that position. This assumption repudi-
ates everything like rights in connection with the negro. He has no right to
his wife or to his children any more than to himself. He has no right to any
degree of freedom, either in action, in speech, or in hope. He has no right to
instruction, — to moral culture, — to the development of whatever faculties

440 APPENDIX.

he may possess, or even to physical support and comfort. Whatever he may
enjoy of any of these things is the voluntary gift of his owner, — prompted
either by his own interest, by his humanity, or his personal sense of obliga-
tion, not conceded at all as a matter of right on the part of the slave. And
the tendency of this system in its practical workings is steadily towards
greater and greater rigor. The arm of power becomes muscular and heavy
by being used. The regulations for slaves become more and more severe, as
their severity provokes open or sullen discontent. The privileges accorded
to them become less and less. ' State laws are becoming more and more com-
mon prohibiting their emancipation. Masters who are indulgent become
more and more objects of suspicion and hostility. They are felt to be out of
place in the system, — incongruous with its spirit and dangerous to its per-
manent existence. The grand point to be established in its theory and in its
practical working is, that the will of a white man, — without any regard to the
thing willed, — without regard to its justice, its right or wrong, its humanity
or barbarity, its necessity or its uselessness, — the bare will of the white is
to be, in all cases and under all contingencies, the absolute, supreme law for the
negro, against which it is treason to rebel, and resistance to which may be
punished with whatever tortures the authority that makes the law may see
fit to inflict. This is the essence of the American slave system as it exists in
theory, and in law, in the Southern States. I do not say that there are no
departures from that theory in practice. There are departures from it, — not
only in isolated cases, but in whole communities, and in many entire States.
But there are also States in which the practical workings of the system have
already come closely up to its theory. And the tendency is steadily in that
direction. The despotism over the whites, of which I have already spoken,
is designed to crush out all these exceptional cases, and to make American
slavery in practice and in fact what it is in the theory on which it rests.

You must not understand me as implying that the Federal Government, or
that we of the North, have any right to interpose our power against this ten-
dency in the slaveholding States. You are sovereign over your own domes-
tic affairs, of which this is one. But you are demanding the sanction of the
Federal Government for it all. You are seeking to graft upon the Constitu-
tion the principle which lies at the bottom of it all, — out of which it all
grows just as naturally as a forest of oaks grows out of a single acorn, —
namely, that a slave is property and nothing else. And you are demanding also
that we of the North shall cease denouncing or censuring a system under
which these things are possible, — nay, under which, according to your own
excuse for them, they are necessary and inevitable. For this is your plea in
their defence. Without them, you assert slavery is impossible, — because
no system less rigid, less exacting, less despotic, could keep the slaves in
subjection.

THE CERTAINTY THAT SUCH A SYSTEM MUST FAIL.

Now if this plea is true, it affords the most conclusive demonstration that
the system is doomed to speedy destruction, and the only question that re-
mains is, whether that destruction shall come amid the nameless enormities
of a wholesale slaughter, or in some less formidable shape. If you will scp-

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 441

arate yourself from all connection with it, and look upon it as you would upon
any other social problem or phenomenon in which you had no personal con-
cern or preconceived opinion, I think you would have little difllculty in see-
ing, and little hesitation in saying, that such a system in North America, and
in this advanced age of civilization, could not possibly be made permanent.
Upon some remote island in some distant sea, — far removed from all contact
with the sentiments, the movements, the active moral and material agencies
of the world, — ft weak tribe of ignorant savages might be thus permanently
held under the supreme will of a dominant race. But under no other condi-
tions is it possible. The same powers, visible and invisible, which have
changed the face of other communities, must have sway in the South. The
railroad, the telegraph, the steamboat, printing, public discussion, inventions,
— these are among the agencies which have given so great an impulse to the
principle of liberty all over the world within the last half century. The gen-
eral effect of them all is to rouse the mind to action ; to stimulate the moral
energies, and the self-asserting elements of character, in every community
which they pervade. No man can live for years in full sight of a railroad,
and witness daily the power which its operations indicate, without being
changed in some of the most essential elements of his character. It shames
his weakness; it widens the circle of his thoughts; it gives dignity and a
larger scope to his aspirations and his aims. So is it with all the great agen-
cies of civilization. Now you have all these things in the Southern States,
and you must continue to have them. They all symbolize power, freedom, the
unchecked development of human energy, and they all point to loftier hopes
and endeavors. Do you suppose that your slaves can be shut out from these
influences, or that they can be exposed to them, and remain the same tame
beasts of burden which they were at the outset? Take especially that great
agency of popular education, the political discussions of the day. Do you
suppose your negroes go through such a campaign as the one just closed with
no new ideas — no fresh impulses — no other hopes and longings than they
had before? Can they hear you discuss the great themes of liberty and labor,
the stirring questions of peace and war, the issues of tariffs and home-
stead bills and railroads, the importance of cotton and sug:tr and rice to the
movements of the world, the relations of the races, the possibilities and pros-
pects of emancipation, the views and sentiments of the different political
parties upon all these topics, and yet be in thought, in feeling, and in charac-
ter precisely what they were before .the campaign commenced? Do you ob-
serve no difference in the spirit, the intelligence, and the temper of those
slaves who live in large towns and have been brought in constant contact
with all these influences, and those who live on the remote plantations of the
back country, seeing and hearing of nothing but their daily task? And has
it not occurred to you that the causes of this difference are operating steadily
and irresistibly upon the great musses of the people, slaves included, every-
where, and that sooner or later they will transform them into something
very different from what they find them ?

In the policy of Repression and Force, which is the policy to which the
South seems inclined to commit its destiny, she is making precisely the mis-
take which has ruined every despotism on the face of tlie earth, — airainst
which History and Philosophy alike protest, and which can have but one

442 APPENDIX.

result, — the ruin and destruction of all concerned. You can see this in for-
eign societies; why are you so utterly blind to it in your own? One after
another the dominations that rest on Power alone break through the thin and
fragile crust, and disappear forever. To the careless eye their foundation
seems solid and seamless as the ice that congeals and covers the lake. But
steadily and silently decay works upon the under surface, and the gale of a
uight sweeps away the last vestige of what seemed adamant the day before.
What is to make the South an exception to this universal law? Is it that the
slaves are black? So were those of St. Domingo. Is it that black blood and
brain have no capacity to plan revolt? Even if this plea were true, the white
blood mingling with the black blood of the South is rapidly giving them lead-
ers for every emergency. It gives eyes and thought to the blind Polyphemus
that seems to be lying helpless and prone. Is it that your power is too com-
pact,— your supremacy too thoroughly established, — your measures of re-
pression too vigorous and comprehensive to permit such a catastrophe?
Alas ! so thought the King of Naples, — so thinks every despot down to the
very hour that precipitates his doom.

No power on earth is adequate to the permanent suppression of the moral
forces that sway the world. You may divert the force, but you cannot sup-
press it. And the course upon which the South has entered, if steadily pur-
sued, is just as certain to end in ruin, as fastening down the safety-valve of a
steam-boiler is to end in an explosion. It may not come in five, or in ten, or
iu fifty years; but it is just as inevitable as Fate. You may not live to be its
victim, but your children will.

I am not in this predicting what I wish should happen. Far from it. I am
only stating the necessary result of an irresistible law. Nor am I claiming
any authority on the part of the Federal Government to interfere with it.
The Constitution has given control of it exclusively to your own States. All
that the Federal Government can do is to look on, — sadly and with a clear
^presight of the certain issue, — and when the catastrophe comes, interfere on
your behalf and for your protection. But you cannot expect or ask us to look
on in silence. You cannot expect us to 'utter no warning, to put forth no re-
monstrance, to feel and express no indignation at a blindness so obstinate and
so fatal. If you would silence the Pulpit and the Press of the North, you
must disarm them. You must remove the causes which justly provoke their
denunciations. I know no other way of attaining the object you seek. Pos-
sibly they ought to desist without these conditions. I doubt not you think
they should, and deem it discourteous and hostile that they will not. But
the fact remains. Just so long as you continue to affront the instinctive
sense of justice and humanity by a policy which imitates and transcends the
worst illustrations of despotism the world has ever seen, just so long will
you rouse the resentment, and incur the censure, not only of the North, but
of every nation of Christendom. If it be your object, therefore, to secure
immunity from these didactic hostilities ; if you wish practically to escape,
and silence these denunciations, and not merely to make out a case against
those who utter them, — you will at least canvass the wisdom of changing the
policy on which you have entered.

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 443

THE TKUE POLICY OF T1IE SOUTH.

I do not say that you must abolish slavery. That Is a matter for your own
people to decide. But you must permit your own people to decide it, and to
discuss it freely, iu order io decide it wisely. I think I know enough of
sentiment at the South to be aware that it is not the largest, the wealthi-
est, or the most important slaveholders who have initiated this new policy
of making slavery perpetual and paramount in their social system, and who
are now pushing the attempt to its final issue. Nor is it the best minds, the
most sagacious statesmen, the wisest thinkers of the Soutlf who have enlisted
in it. It is rather the policy of the unthinking masses, — the great body of
non-slaveholding whites, without property, without intelligence, — with
nothing but the bare fact of freedom to raise them above the slave, and who
see no other way of maintaining that supremacy but by perpetuating the ne-
gro slavery on which it rests. It is this class who have nothing to lose, led
on by that large class of reckless politicians who have everything to gain by
ministering to the dominant passion of their society, and by excessive zeal
on behalf of a system which no man is permitted to assail, who have pushed
the issue to its present extreme position. It is they who have silenced free-
dom of speech — who frown on freedom of opinion — who trample on freedom
of inquiry in regard to slavery.

And the first and paramount duty of every Southern statesman, — every man
of thought, of culture, and of courage in the Southern States is, to emancipate
Southern white society from this fatal thraldom. Men of this class must assert
and exercise the right of canvassing the subject of slavery fully and freely
as a matter of paramount practical importance to themselves and their pos-
terity. You know very well that there are thousands of men in the Southern
States who have grave and serious doubts, to use no stronger phrase, as to
the wisdom and good policy of making negro slavery the corner-stone of
Southern society. There are many who desire a broader foundation for the
material prosperity of their section than the culture of cotton, and a
higher moral rank among the nations than slavery can give them. Why
should they not discuss among themselves these great questions of social and
political economy? Why should they be silenced iu presence of the gravest
questions that can engage the attention of statesmen and of States? Would
such freedom of inquiry be dangerous to the "institution"? Then by that
very fact the institution is already proved to be dangerous to the State.

But I am not prepared to believe that the peril is so imminent as to make
discussion dangerous iu the Southern States. Ou the contrary, I believe it to
be tke only safeguard of Southern society. It is the only condition of deliv-
erance from the perils which hang over it. Let the strong, independent minds
of the South grapple with this subject as they grapple with every other. Let
them look slavery in the face, and canvass fully and fearlessly its true re-
lations to the welfare of society and the growth and prosperity of the South-
ern States.. Do yon fear such a discussion? That fear is equivalent to a
surrenderor the argument. Do you oppose it on the principle that slavery
is too sacred a thing to be thus canvassed and cross-examined? It is the
only institution, then, human or divine, on the face of the earth, for which
you would claim such immunity. Do you 'say it would be playing into tho

444 APPENDIX.

hands of your enemies? It would disarm and silence them. They would
lose all motive for meddling with subjects in which they had no direct con-
cern when they saw them freely and conscientiously canvassed by those whose
personal, social, and political interests were all involved.

But such discussion you think would tend towards Emancipation. In cer-
tain sections of the South, I presume it would, — and in others, I think it
would not. But even if it did, it could only be by proving that Emancipation
in some form, and at some time, — the prospect and the hope of ultimate
Emancipation, — would promote the highest and the tyest interests of the
Southern States. If it did not prove that, — then it would tend to fortify
slavery instead of abolishing it. My own impression is that it would show
the wisdom of modifying the present system of American slavery in certain
important respects, — taking into view the substantial interests of all con-
cerned. I think it would establish certain facts concerning the negro race
which you are in danger of forgetting, and which you cannot forget OF ignore
with any more wisdom than a builder can forget or ignore the laws of grav-
ity, or than an engineer can forget the explosive nature of steam. It would
show that, however degraded, however ignorant, however brutal he may be,
the negro has in him the seeds of humanity, and that, like all other pain and
pleasure, physical and moral, like other seeds they will inevitably grow ; that
he feels like other men ; that he has a will, — a faculty of choice, — a suscepti-
bility to motive, like any other person, and in spite of all laws that declare
him to be merely property ; — that he has emotions and affections, — that he
loves and hates, — that he hopes and fears, — that he yields to kindness and
rebels inwardly against cruelty, — just like other men, and not at all like other
"chattels." And when these facts should come to pervade the public mind,
as sooner or later they must if they are facts, unless that mind is kept sealed
against all access of them, they would lay the foundation for a policy on the
subject of slavery which would calm the public mind, and restore the old
relations between the States and sections of the Union, as nothing else can
ever do.

There are one or two leading principles which must be recognized in the
practical working of every society, if that society is to rest on any linn and
sure foundation. One is, that every subject of government must feel that he
is under the control and guardianship of LAW, — that mere caprice or whim,
— the interest or the passion of another, — is not the highest authority for him
in any of his isolations. Another is that labor becomes valuable in propor-
tion as it becomes intelligent. And a third is that the laborer must have
something to hope for, as a result of his labor, or he will never put forth
the best effort of which he is capable. I am persuaded that the Southern
States would feel i| infinitely to their advantage to incorporate these princi-
ples into their slaveholding economy. I do not believe there is a slave on
any Southern plantation, who would not become more valuable by becoming
more intelligent. There is not one who would not be more contented, if he
could be surrounded by something of the guaranties against wrong which
are essential to all society ; if he could feel that he had some place in the
domestic and social economy of the world, — that his wife and children were
his by law, and that no man's passion or avarice was above the law which
made them so. And if every slave, thus shielded from wrong, were told that

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 445

something of added good should come to him or his from increased devotion
to his master's service; that reward should wait upon fidelity, as punish-
ment upon evasion and crime; that his good works should pass to tlie
credit at least of his posterity, and that some one or more of his children
should he lifted up towards freedom by his exertions on their behalf, in faith-
ful service of their common master, — if such a system of methodi/cd and
justly modulated rewards and penalties could be interwoven with the negro
slavery of the Southern States, I make no doubt that augmented peace and
security would be its immediate reward, and that in twenty years the whole
slaveholding country would rejoice in the prospect of a degree of prosperity
and power of which hitherto it has never dreamed. It is in that direction,
and in that direction only, in my opinion, that safety for the slaveholding
States can be found. They may tread that path however slowly, — with
whatever hesitations and misgivings, — against whatever reluctances of
prejudice and pride may be inseparable from the circumstances of the case ;
the world will make allowance for all this, and will cheer and aid the well-
meant effort, however feeble and halting it may be. All the moral influences
of the age; all the motives and promptings of civilization and Chri>tiunit\ ;
nil the laws of social and civil science, will be working in your behalf, and no
longer for your destruction. Here are problems worthy your noblest states-
men. Here are fields where the most gifted and ambitious intellects of your
States may win salvation for their country and renown for themselves.
How much nobler would it be for such men as you have among you, to
launch out, not rashly, but with calm and courageous wisdom, upon this
broad and inviting though stormy sea, — as yet untempted by the most
daring prow, — than to sit down in sullen despair and hopeless inaction upon
the grim and cheerless shore !

FEDERAL OBLIGATIONS OF THE SOUTH.

But again I must protest that I am speaking of things over which the Fed-
eral Government has no shadow of authority. I am only telling you what I
believe to be the path of safety, of honor, and of glory for the Southern
States. It is for them and their statesmen to say whether they will tread it
or not. Not one' word have I uttered from any other motive than a profound
desire for the promotion of your welfare. You will fling from you in scorn the
proffered friendship, and shout execrations against us, as you plunge on-
ward, in all the reckless insolence of offended pride, into the great darkness
that lies before you. You do not know the great heart of the free North,
if you believe that it holds the honor and the welfare of the South in lower
esteem than its own. You underrate the justice of the North, if you believe
it would trample on one of your rights. You underrate its magnanimity, if
yon fear it would not stand hy you in any extremity of danger, and w:i_
upon your foes as fiercely and as gladly as if they were its own. But you
underrate also its courage and its power, if you expert to coerce it, by men-
aces or by blows, into disloyalty to the Constitution which our lathers made,
or to the fundamental principles of liberty on which its foundations r>

The North asks but one thing at the hands of the South, and that is that
they shall no longer cling to the Constitution of Mr. Calhoun, in preference

446 APPENDIX.

lathe Constitution of the United States. We ask them to abide by the prin-
ciples and the policy of the fathers of the Republic, as they read them in their
speeches a.nd their letters, and in the language and the spirit of the Constitu-
tion itself. Let us return to the sentiments, the aspirations, and the hopes
of Washington and,Jeffersotf, and Madison and Mason, — Southern men and
slaveholders all, — and adapt our policy and the development of our institu-
tions, State and national, to their high and just ideals. Give ns the slightest
ground to hope for this, and we will make haste to purge ourselves of all
offence; to disarm every just censure you can urge against us. and to. per-
form, with eager and scrupulous fidelity, every constitutional and fraternal
obligation that devolves upon us.

Our government is approaching its final and decisive test. The party
which represents the sentiments — just, conservative, and free — of the
Northern States, is soon to come into possession of the executive power of
this Republic. Mr. Lincoln, its chosen representative, becomes President of
the United States on the 4th of March. You may search the country
through, and you will find no more sagacious intellect, no more loyal and
patriotic heart, no more sensitively and courageously just and right-meauyig
man than he. His whole character breathes the very spirit of our American
life. His public career and his private history are alike unstained by any act,
or by any word, of wrong to any man or to any State. He knows no law for
his public conduct but the Constitution of his country, and he recognizes no
country as his but that Union, one and indivisible, which the Constitution cre-
ates. You are preparing to meet him as an enemy. You are withdrawing
all the States which you and your confederates can control into a-compact
and a hostile camp. Repudiating the Constitution, — repelling the suprem-
acy of the Federal Government, — you propose to employ the intervening
months before his advent in preparations to resist the constitutional author-
ity which he will represent and wield. South Carolina has already pitched
her alien tent, and raised her hostile flag. Georgia, and Alabama, and Mis-
sissippi, and possibly half-a-dozen more States, will imitate her example.
You have an ally in the faithless and disloyal man who degrades the high
place which Washington and Jackson made equal in dignity to any throne
upon the earth. Whatever may be his motive, whether he be wicked or only
weak, you will have all the aid he can give you, — full impunity to perfect
your plots, and all the material strength he can place within your reach.
And I am quite prepared to see, on the 4th of March, a solid phalanx of fif-
teen States, — not all, it may be, claiming to be outside the Union then, but
all consenting and ready to meet the incoming administration of Mr. Lincoln
with a peremptory demand that SLAVES SHALL BE DISTINCTLY AND UNEQUIV-
OCALLY RECOGNIZED AS PUOPERTY BY THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED

STATES, as the only condition on which they will remain, or again become,
members of the American Lnion.

And I have only to add that, in my judgment, that demand icitl nn-T be con-
ceded. We shall stand then, as now, upon the Constitution which our fathers
made. We shall not make a new one, nor shall we permit any human power

DISUNION AND SLAVERY. 447

to destroy the old one. Long before that day shall come the people of the
Northern States will stand together as one man — forgetful of all past differ-
ences and divisions — to preserve the American Union, and crush any revolution
which may menace it with destruction. We seek no war, — we shall wage no
war except in defence of the Constitution and against its foes. But we have
a country and a Constitutional Government. We know its worth to us and to
mankind, and in case of necessity we are ready to test its strength. You
must not misunderstand our hopes of peace, our .wish for peace, — or our
readiness to make concession, for its preservation. Even if we were to con-
cede everything you ask, we should only postpone the conflict to a later day,
and throw upon our children duties and responsibilities which belong to ns.
I think, therefore, that the controversy should be settled now, and I have
faith enough in the American people to believe that, in spite of difficulties
and discouragements, by wisdom and prudent forbearance, mingled with jus-
tice and courage, on the part of their rulers, it will eventually be settled in
conformity with the principles of the Constitution, and so as to promote the
highest welfare of thjs great Republic.

I am, sir, your obedient servant,

HENRY J. RAYMOND.

APPEISTDIX D.

THE PHILADELPHIA ADDRESS : — 1866.

[THE Address and Declaration of Principles adopted at the National Union
Convention in Philadelphia, August 14, 1866, — written by Henry J. Ray-
mond, — were as follows : — ]

TO THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES:

Having met in convention, at the city of Philadelphia, in the State of
Pennsylvania, this 16th day of August, 1866, as the representatives of the
people in all sections, and from all the States and Territories of the Union,
to consult upon the condition and the wants of our common country, we
address to you this declaration of our principles, and of the political pur-
poses we seek to promote.

Since the meeting of the last National Convention, in the year 1860, events
have occurred which have changed the character of our internal politics, and
given the United States a new place among the nations of the earth. Our
government has passed through the vicissitudes and the perils of civil war, —
a war which, though mainly sectional in its character, has, nevertheless,
decided political differences that from the very beginning of the government
had threatened the unity of our national existence, and has left its impress
deep and ineffaceable upon all the interests, the sentiments, and the destiny
of the Republic. While it has inflicted upon the whole country severe losses
in life and in property, and has imposed burdens which must weigh on its
resources for generations to come, it has developed a degree of national
courage in the presence of national dangers, a capacity for military organi-
zation and achievement, and a devotion on the part of the people to the form
of government which they have ordained, and to the principles of liberty
which that government was designed to promote, which must confirm the
confidence of the nation in the perpetuity of its Republican institutions, and
command the respect of the civilized world.

Like all great contests which rouse the passions and test the endurance of
nations, this war has given new scope to the ambition of political parties,
and fresh impulse to plans of innovation and reform. Amidst the chaos of
conflicting sentiments inseparable from such an era, while the public heart is
keenly alive to all the passions that can sway the public judgment and affect
the public action; while the wounds of war are still fresh and bleeding on
either side, and fears for the future take unjust proportions from the memo-
ries and resentments of the past, — it is a difficult but an imperative duty
which, on your behalf, we who are here assembled have undertaken to per-

448

THE rillLAbKLHIIA ADDRESS: I860. 449

For the first time after six long years of alienation and of conflict, we
have come together from every State and every section of our land, as citi-
zens of a common country, under that Hag, the symbol again of a common
glory, to consult together how best to cement and perpetuate that I
which is again the object of our common love, and thus secure the ble-
of liberty to ourselves and our posterity.

I. In the first place, we invoke you to remember always and everywhere,
that the war is ended and the nation is again at peace. The shock of con-
tending arms no longer assails the shuddering heart of the Republic. The
insurrection against the supreme authority of the nation has been sup-
pressed, and that authority has been again acknowledged, by word and act,
in every State, and by every citizen within its jurisdiction. We are no longer
required or permitted to regard or treat each other as enemies. Not only
have the acts of war been discontinued, and the weapons of war laid aside,
but the state of war no longer exists, anil the sentiments, the passions, the
relations of war have no longer lawful or rightful place anywhere throughout
our broad domain. \Ve arc again people of the United States, fellow-citi-
zens of one country, bound by the duties and obligations of a common
patriotism, and having neither rights nor interests apart from a comraott
destiny. The duties that devolve upon us now are again the duties of peace,
and no longer the duties of war. We have assembled here to take counsel
concerning the interests of peace — to decide how we may most wisely and
effectually heal the wounds the war has made, and perfect and perpetuate the
benefits it has secured, and the blessings which, under a wise and benign
Providence, have sprung up in its fiery track. This is the work, not of pas-
sion, but of calm and sober judgment, not of resentment for past offence*
prolonged beyond the limits which justice and reason prescribe, but of a lib-
eral statesmanship which tolerates what it cannot prevent, and builds its
plans and its hopes for the future rather upon a community of interest and
ambition than upon distrust and the weapons of force.

II. In the next place, we call upon you to recognize in their full signifi-
cance, and to accept with all their legitimate consequences, the political
results of the war just closed. In two most important particulars the vic-
tory achieved by the National Government has been final and decisive. Firm,
it has established beyond all further controversy, and by the highest of all
human sanctions, the absolute supremacy of the National Government, as
defined and limited by the Constitution of tin- 1'nited States, and the perma-
nent integrity and indissolubility of the Federal Union as a necessary conse-
quence; and, second, it has put, an end finally and forever to the existence of
slavery upon the soil or within the jurisdiction of the United States. Both
these points became directly involved in the contest, and the contr<>.
upon both was ended absolutely and finally by the result.

III. In the third place, we deem it of the utmost importance that the real
character of the war and the victory by which it wa> closed >hould be accu-
rately understood. '1 he war was carried on by the government of th<- United
States in maintenance of its own authority and in defence of its own exig-
ence, both of which were menaced by the insurrection which it sought to
suppress. The suppression of that insurrection accomplished that result.
The government of the United States maintained by force of arms the

450 APPENDIX.

supreme authority over all the territory, and over all the States aud people
within its jurisdiction, which the Constitution confers upon it; but it ac-
quired thereby no new power, no enlarged jurisdiction, no rights either of
territorial possession or of civil authority which it did not possess before the
rebellion broke out. All the rightful power it can ever possess is that which
is conferred upon it, either in express terms, or by fair and necessary impli-
cation, by the Constitution of the United States. It was that power and
that authority which the rebellion sought to overthrow ; and the victory of
the Federal arms was simply the defeat of that attempt. The government
of the United States acted throughout the war on the defensive. It sought
only to hold possession of what was already its own. Neither the war, nor
the victory by which it was closed, changed in any way the Constitution of
the United States. The war was carried on by virtue of its provisions, and
under the limitations which they prescribe; and the result of the war did not
either enlarge, abridge, or in any way change or affect, the powers it confers
upon the Federal Government, or release that government from the restric-
tions which it has imposed.

The Constitution of the United States is to-day precisely as it was before
the war, the "supreme law of the land, anything in the Constitution or laws
of any State to the contrary notwithstanding; " aud to-day, also, pn
as before the war, ': all the powers not conferred by the Constitution upon
the General Government, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to
the several States, or to the people thereof."

This position is vindicated, not only by the essential nature of our govern-
ment, and the language and spirit of the Constitution, but by all the acts and
the language of our government, in all its departments, and at all times from
the outbreak of the rebellion to its final overthrow. In every message and
proclamation of the Executive it was explicitly declared that the sole object
aud purpose of the war was to maintain the authority of the Constitution
and to preserve the integrity of the Union; and Congress more than once
reiterated this solemn declaration, and added the assurance that, whenever
that object should be attained, the war should cease, and all the States
should retain their equal rights and dignity unimpaired.

It is only since the war was closed that other rights have been asserted on
behalf of one department of the General Government. It has been pro-
claimed by Congress that, in addition to the powers conferred upon it by the
Constitution, the Federal Government may now claim over the States, the
territory, and the people involved in the insurrection, the rights of war. —
the right of conquest and of confiscation, the right to abrogate all exiting
governments, institutions, and laws, and to subject the territory conquered
and its inhabitants to such laws, regulations, and deprivations, as the legis-
lative department of the government may see fit to impose. Under this
broad and sweeping claim, that clause of the Constitution which provides
that "no State shall, without its consent, be deprived of its equal suHYage in
the Senate of the United States." has been annulled, and ten States havi
refused, and are still refused, representation altogether in both branch
the Federal Congress. And the Congress in which only a part of the States
and of the people of the Union are represented lias asserted the riglr
to exclude the rest from representation, and from all share in making their

THE PHILADELPHIA ADDRESS: — 1866. 451

own laws, or choosing their own rulers, until they shall comply with such
conditions, and perform such acts, as this Congress thus composed may It-
self prescribe. That right has not only been asserted, but it has been exer-
cised, and is practically enforced at the present time. Nor does it find any
support in the theory that the States thus excluded are in rebellion against
the government, and are therefore precluded from sharing its authority.
They are not thus in rebellion. They are, one and all, in an attitude of loy-
alty toward the government, and of sworn allegiance to the Constitution of
the United States. In no one of them is there the slightest indication of
resistance to this authority, or the slightest protest against its just and bind-
ing obligation. This condition of renewed loyalty has been officially recog-
nized by solemn proclamation of the Executive Department. The laws of
the United States have been extended by Congress over all these States and
the people thereof. Federal Courts have been reopened, and Federal taxes
imposed and levied. And in every respect, except that they are denied rep-
resentation in Congress and the Electoral College, the States once in rebel-
lion are recognized as holding the same position, as owing the same
obligations, and subject to the same duties, as the other States of our com-
mon Union.

It seems to us, in the exercise of the calmest and most candid judgment
we can bring to the subject, that such a claim, so enforced, involves as fatal
an overthrow of the authority of the Constitution, and as -complete a
destruction of the Government and Union, as that which was sought to be
effected by the States and people in armed insurrection against them both.
It cannot escape observation, that the power thus asserted to exclude certain
States from representation, is made to rest wholly in the will and discretion
of the Congress that asserts it. It is not made to depend upon any specified
conditions or circumstances, nor to be subject to any rules or regulations
whatever. The right asserted and exercised is absolute, without qualifica-
tion or restriction, not confined to States in rebellion, nor to States that
have rebelled; it is the right of any Congress in formal possession of
lative authority, to exclude an}' State or States, and any portion of the peo-
ple thereof, at any time, from representation in Congress and in the Electoral
College, at its own discretion, and until they shall perform such acts, and
comply with such conditions, as it may dictate. Obviously, the reasons for
such exclusion, being wholly within the discretion of Congress, may change
as tlu1 Congress itself shall change. One Congress may exclude a State
from all share in the government, for one reason; and. that reason removed,
the next Congress may exclude it for another. One State may be excluded
on one ground to-day, and another may be excluded on the opposite ground
to-morrow. Northern ascendency may exclude Southern States from one
Congress; the ascendency of We>tern or of Southern interests, or of both
combined, may exclude the Northern or the Ka.-tern States from the
Improbable as such usurpations may seem, the establishment of the principle
now asserted and acted upon by Congress \\ill render them by no means
impossible. The character, indeed the very existence, of Congress and the
Union is thus made to depend solely and entirely upon the party and sectional
e\ii_ri-ucies or forbearances of the hour.

We need not stop to .show that such action not only finds no warrant in the

452 APPENDIX.

Constitution, but is at war with every principle of our government, and with
the very existence of free institutions. It is, indeed, the identical practice
which has rendered fruitless all attempts hitherto to establish and maintain
free governments in Mexico and the States of South America. Party neces-
sities assert themselves as superior to the fundamental law, which is set
aside in reckless obedience to their behests. Stability, whether in the exer-
cise of power, in the administration of government, or in the enjoyment of
rights, becomes impossible ; and the conflicts of party, which, under consti-
tutional governments, are the conditions and means of political progress,
are merged in the conflicts of arms to which they directly and inevitably
tend.

It was against this peril, so conspicuous and so fatal to all free govern-
ments, that our Constitution was intended especially to provide. Not only
the stability, but the very existence, of the government, is made by its pro-
visions to depend upon the right and the fact of representation. The Con-
gress, upon which is conferred all the legislative power of the National
Government, consists of two branches, the Senate and House of Bepresen-
tatives, whose joint concurrence or assent is essential to the validity of any
law. Of these, the House of Representatives, says the Constitution (article
1, section 2), "shall be composed of members chosen every second year by
the people of the several States." Not only is the right of representation
thus recognized as possessed by all the States, and by every State without
restriction, qualification, or condition of any kind, but the duty of choosing
representatives is imposed upon the people of each and every State alike,
without distinction, or the authority to make distinctions among them, for
any reason or upon any grounds whatever. And in the Senate, so care-
ful is the Constitution to secure to every State this right of representation,
it has expressly provided that " no State shall, without its consent, be de-
prived of its equal suffrage " in that body, even by an amendment of the Con-
stitution itself. When, therefore, any State is excluded from such represen-
tation, not only is a right of the State denied, but the constitutional integrity
of the Senate is impaired, and the validity of the government itself is brought
in question. But Congress at the present moment thus excludes from rep-
resentation, in both branches of Congress, ten States of the Union, denying
them all share in the enactment of laws by which they are to be governed,
and all participation in the election of the rulers by which those laws are to
be enforced. In other words, a Congress in which only twenty-six States are
represented, asserts the right to govern, absolutely and in its own discretion,
all the thirty-six States which compose the Union ; to make their laws
and choose their rulers, and to exclude the other ten from all share in their
own government until it sees fit to admit them thereto. What is there to
distinguish the power thus asserted and exercised from the most absolute and
intolerable tyranny?

IV. Nor do these extravagant and unjust claims, on the part of Congress,
to powers and authority never conferred upon the government by the Consti-
tution, find any warrant in the arguments or excuses urged on their behalf.
It is alleged, —

First. That these States, by the act of rebelion and by voluntarily with-
drawing their members from Congress, forfeited their right of representa-

THE PHILADELPHIA ADDRESS : — 1866.^ 453

tion, and that they can only receive it again at the hands of the supreme leg-
islative authority of the government, on its own terms and at Its own discre-
tion. If representation in Congress juid participation in the government
were simply privileges conferred and held by favor, this statement might have
the merit of plausibility. But representation is, under the Constitution, not
only expressly recognized as a right, but it is imposed as a duty ; and it is es-
sential in both aspects to the existence of the government and to the main-
tenance of its authority. In free governments fundamental and essential rights
cannot be forfeited, except against individuals by due process of law; nor
can constitutional duties and obligations be discarded or laid aside. The en-
joyment of rights may be for a time suspended by the failure to claim them,
and duties maybe evaded by the refusal to perform them. The withdrawal of
their members from Congress by the States which resisted the General Govern-
ment was among their acts of insurrection — was one of the means and agencies
by which they sought to impair the authority and defeat the action of the gov-
ernment; and that act was annulled and rendered void when the insurrection
itself was suppressed. Neither the right of representation nor the duty to be
represented was in the least impaired by the fact of insurrection, but it may have
been that, by reason of the insurrection, the conditions on which the enjoyment
of that right and the performance of that duty for the time depended could
not be fulfilled. This was, in fact, the case. An insurgent power, in the ex-
ercise of usurped and unlawful authority, had prohibited within the territory
under its control that allegiance to the Constitution and laws of the United
States which is made by that fundamental law the essential condition of rep-
resentation in its government. No man within the insurgent States was
allowed to take the oath to support the Constitution of the United States,
and, as a necessary consequence, no man could lawfully represent those
States in the councils of the Union. But this was only an obstacle to the
enjoyment of the right and to the discharge of a duty; it did not annul the
one nor abrogate the other; and it ceased to exist when the usurpation by
which it was created had been overthrown, and the States had again resumed
their allegiance to the Constitution and laws of the United States.

Second. But it is asserted in support of the authority claimed by the Con-
gress now in possession of power, that it flows directly from the lu
war; that it is among the rights which victorious war always confers upon
the conquerors, and which the conqueror may exercise or waive in his own
discretion. To this we reply, that the laws in question relate solely, so far
as the rights they confer are concerned, to wars waged between alien and in-
dependent nations, and can have no place or force, in this regard, in a war
waged by a government to suppress an insurrection of its own people, upon
its own soil, against its authority. If we had carried on successful war
against any foreign nations, we might thereby have acquired po»e><ion and
jurisdiction of their soil, wit li the right to enforce our laws upon their people,
and to impose upon them such laws and such obligations as we might choose.
But we had, before the war, complete jurisdiction over the soil of the South-
ern States, limited only by our own Constitution. Our laws were the only
national laws in force upon it. Tin- government of the United St-ites was
the only government through which those States and their people had rela-
tions with foreign nations, and its ilag was the only flag by which they were

454 APPENDIX.

recognized or known anywhere on the face of the earth. In all these re-
spects, and in all other respects involving national interests and rights, our
possession was perfect and complete. It did not need to be acquired, but
only to be maintained; and victorious war against the rebellion could do
nothing more than maintain it. It could only vindicate and re-establish the
disputed supremacy of the Constitution. It could neither enlarge nor dimin-
ish the authority which that Constitution confers upon the government by
which it was achieved. Such an enlargement or abridgment of constitu-
tional power can be effected only by amendment of the Constitution itself
and such amendment can be made only in the modes which the Constitution
itself prescribes. The claim that the suppression of an insurrection against
the government gives additional authority and power to that government, es-
pecially that it enlarges the jurisdiction of Congress, and gives that body the
right to exclude States from representation in the national councils, without
which the nation itself can have no authority and no existence, seems to us
at variance alike with the principles of the Constitution and with the public
safety.

Third. But it is alleged that in certain particulars the Constitution of the
United States fails to secure the absolute justice and impartial equality which
the principles of our government require ; that it was in this respect the
result of compromises and concessions, to which, however necessary when
the Constitution was formed, we are no longer compelled to submit, and that
now, having the power, through successful war, and just warrant for its ex-
ercise in the hostile conduct of the insurgent section, the actual government
of the United States may impose its own conditions, and make the Coustitu-
tion conform in all its provisions to its own ideas of equality and the rights
of man. Congress, at its last session, proposed amendments to the Consti-
tution, enlarging in some very important particulars the authority of the
General Government over that of the several States, and reducing, by indi-
rect enfranchisement, the representative power of the States in which sla-
very formerly existed; and it is claimed that these amendments maybe made
valid as parts of the original Constitution, without the concurrence of the
States to be most seriously affected by them, or may be imposed upon those
States by three-fourths of the remaining States, as conditions of their read-
mission to representation in Congress and in the Electoral College.

It is the unquestionable right of the people of the United States to make
such changes in the Constitution as they, upon due deliberation, may deem
expedient. But we insist that they shall be made in the mode which the
Constitution itself points out; in conformity with the letter, and the spirit
of that instrument, and with the principles of self-government and of equal
rights which lie at the basis of our Republican institutions. We deny the
right of Congress to make these changes in the fundamental law without the
concurrence of three-fourths of all the States, including especially those to
be most seriously affected by them ; or to impose them upon States or people,
as conditions of representation or of admission to any of the rights, duties,
or obligations which belong under the Constitution to all the States alike.
And with .still greater emphasis do we deny the right of any portion of the
States excluding the rest of the States from any share in their councils, to
propose or sanction changes in the Constitution which are to affect perma-

TILE PHILADELPHIA ADDRESS : — 1866. 455

nently their political relations, and control or coerce the legitimate action of
all the members of the common Union. Such an exercise of power is simply
a usurpation, jn.it as unwarrantable when exercised by Northern States, as it
would be if exercised by Southern, and not to be justified or palliated by
anything in the past history, either of those by whom it is attempted, or of
those upon whose rights and liberties it is to take effect. It finds no warrant
in the Constitution. It is at war with the fundamental principles of our
form of government. If tolerated in one instance, it becomes the precedent
for future invasions of liberty and constitutional right, dependent solely upon
the will of the party in possession of power, and thus leads, by direct and
n.Ti '<>ary sequence, to the most fatal and intolerable of all tyrannies, — the
tyranny of shifting and irresponsible political factions. It is against this,
the most formidable of all the dangers which menace the stability of free
government, that the Constitution of the United States was intended most
carefully to -provide. We demand a strict and steadfast adherence to its
provisions. In this, and in this alone, can we find a basis of permanent
union and peace.

Fourth. But it is alleged, in justification of the usurpation which we con-
demn, that the condition of the Southern Slates and people is not such as
renders safe their readmission to a share in the government of the country;
that they are still disloyal in sentiment and purpose, and that neither the
honor, the credit, nor the interests of the nation would be safe, if they were
readmitted to a share in its councils. We might reply to this : —

1. That we have no right, for such reasons, to deny to any portion of the
States or people rights expressly conferred upon them by the Constitution
of the United States.

2. That so long as their acts are those of loyalty, — so long as they con-
form in all their public conduct to the requirements of the Constitution and
law<. — we have no right to exact from them conformity in their sentiments
and opinions to our own.

3. That we have no right to distrust the purpose or the ability of the
people of the Union to protect and defend, under all contingencies and by
whatever means may be required, its honor and its welfare.

These would; in our judgment, be full and conclusive answers to the plea
thus advanced for tiie exclusion of these States from the Union. But v.
further, that this plea rests upon a complete misapprehension or an unjust
perversion of existing facts.

We do not hesitate to allinn, that there is no section of the country where
the Constitution and laws of the Tinted Slates find a more prompt and entire
Obedience than in tho<e States and among those people who were lately in
arms against them; or where there is less purpose or less danger of any fu-
ture attempt to overthrow their authority. It would seem to be both natural
and inevitable, that, in States and sections so recently swept by the whirl-
wind of war, where all the ordinary modes ami methods of organi/.ed indus-
try have been broken up, and the, bonds and intluences that guarantee
order have been destroyed ; where thousands and tens of thousands of tur-r
bulcnt spirits have been suddenly loosed from the discipline of war, and
thrown without resources or restraint upon a disorganized and chaotic so-
ciety; and where the keen sense of defeat is added to the overthrow of am-

456 APPENDIX.

bition and hope, — scenes of violence should defy for a time the imperfect
discipline of law, and excite anew the fears and forebodings of the patriotic
and well disposed. It is unquestionably true that local disturbances of this
kind, accompanied by more or less of violence, do still occur. But they are
confined entirely to the cities and larger towns of the Southern States, where
different races and interests are brought most closely in contact, and where
passions and resentments are always most easily fed and fanned into out-
break; and even there they are quite as much the fruit of untimely and hurt-
ful political agitation, as of any hostility on the part of the people to the
authority of the National Government.

But the concurrent testimony of those best acquainted with the condition
of society and the state of public sentiment in the South, including that of
its representatives in this convention, establishes the fact that the great
mass of the Southern people accept, with as full and sincere submission, as
do the people of the other States, the re-established supremacy of the na-
tional authority ; and are prepared, in the most loyal spirit, and with a zeal
quickened alike by their interest and their pride, to co-operate with other
States and sections in whatever may be necessary to defend the rights,
maintain the honor, and promote the welfare of our common country. His-
tory affords no instance where a people, so powerful in numbers, in resources
and in public spirit, after a war so long in its duration, so destructive in
its progress, and so adverse in its issue, have accepted defeat and its conse-
quences with so much of good faith as has marked the conduct of the people
lately in insurrection against the United States. Beyond all question, this
has been largely clue to the wise generosity with which their enforced sur-
render was accepted by the President of the United States, and the Generals
in immediate command of their armies, and to the liberal measures which
were afterwards taken to restore order, tranquillity, and law to the States
where all had for the time been overthrown. No steps could have been bet-
ter calculated to command the respect, win the confidence, revive the patriot-
ism and secure the permanent and affectionate allegiance of the people of the
South to the Constitution and laws of the Union, than those which have been
so firmly taken and so steadfastly pursued by the President of the United
States. And if that confidence and loyalty have been since impaired; if the
people of the South are to-day less cordial in their allegiance than they were
immediately upon the close of the war, we believe it is due to the changed
tone of the legislative department of the General Government to ward them;
to the action by which Congress has endeavored to supplant and defeat the
President's wise and beneficent policy of restoration ; to their exclusion from
all participation in our common government; to the withdrawal from them
iof rights conferred and guaranteed by the Constitution, and to the evident
purpose of Congress, in the exercise of a usurped and unlawful authority, to
reduce them from the rank of free and equal members of a Republic of States,
with rights and dignities unimpaired, to the condition of conquered provinces
and a conquered people, in all things subordinate and subject to the will of
their conquerors, — free only to obey laws in making which they are not
allowed to share.

No people has ever yet existed whose loyalty and faith such treatment long
continued would not alienate and impair. And the ten millions of Americans

THE PHILADELPHIA ADDRESS : — 1866. 457

who live in the South would be unworthy citizens of a free country, degener-
ate sons of an heroic ancestry, unflt ever to become guardians of the rights
and liberties bequeathed to us by the fathers and founders of this Republic,
if they could accept, with uncomplaining submissiveness, the humiliations
thus sought to be imposed upon them. Resentment of injustice is always and
everywhere essential to freedom ; and the spirit which prompts the States
and people lately in insurrection, but insurgent now no longer, to protest
against the imposition of uujustand degrading conditions, makes them all the
more worthy to share in the government of a free commonwealth, and gives
still firmer assurance of the future power and freedom of the Republic. For
whatever responsibility the Southern people may have incurred in resisting
the authority of the National Government and in taking up arras for its over-
throw, they may be held to answer, as individuals, before the judicial tribu-
nals of the land ; and for that conduct, as societies and organized communi-
ties, they have already paid the most fearful penalties that can full on
offending States in the losses, the sufferings, and humiliations of unsucces-ful
war. But whatever may be the guilt or the punishment of the conscious
authors of the insurrection, candor and common justice demand the conces-
sion that the groat mass of those who became involved in its responsibility
acted upon what they believed to be their duty, in defence of what they had
been taught to believe their rights, or under a compulsion, physical and
moral, which they were powerless to resist. Nor can it be amiss to remem-
ber that, terrible as have been the bereavements and the losses of this war,
they have fallen exclusively upon neither section and upon neither party;
that they have fallen, indeed, with far greater weight upon those with whom
the war began ; that in the death of relatives and friends, the dispersion of
families, the disruption of social systems and social ties, the overthrow of
governments, of law and order, the destruction of property and of forms and
modes and means of industry, the loss of political, commercial, and moral
influence, — in every shape and form which great calamities can assume, the
States and people which engaged in the war against the government of the
United States have suffered tenfold more than those who remained in alle-
giance to its Constitution and laws.

These considerations may not, as they certainly do not, justify the action
of the people of the insurgent States; but no just or generous mind will re-
fuse to them very considerable weight in determining the line of conduct
which the government of the United States should pursue toward them.

They accept, if not with alacrity, certainly without sullen resentment, the
defeat and overthrow they have sustained. They acknowledge and acquiesce
in the results, to themselves and the country, which that defeat involves.
They no longer claim for any State the right to secede from the Union; they
no longer assert Tor any State an allegiance paramount, to that which is due
to the General Government. They have accepted the destruction of slavery,
abolished it by their State Constitutions, and concurred with the States and
people of the whole Union in prohibiting its existence forever upon the soil
or within the jurisdiction of the United States. They indicate and evince
their purpose, just so fast as may be possible and safe, to adapt their domes-
tic laws to the changed condition of their society, and to secure by the law
and its tribunals equal and impartial justice to all classes of their inhabitants.

458 APPENDIX.

They admit the invalidity of all acts of resistance to the national authority,
and of all debts incurred in attempting its overthrow. They avow their wil-
lingness to share the burdens and discharge all the duties and obligations
which rest upon them, in common with other States and other sections of the
Union ; and they renew, through their representatives in this convention, by
all their public conduct, in every way, and by the most solemn acts by which
States and societies can pledge their faith, their engagement to bear true
faith and allegiance, through all time to come, to the Constitution of the
United States, and to all laws that may be made in pursuance thereof.

FELLOW-COUNTRYMEN : We call upon you, in full reliance upon your intel-
ligence and your patriotism, to accept, with generous and ungrudging confi-
dence, this full surrender on the part of those lately in arms against your
authority, and to share with them the honor and renown that await those
who bring back peace and concord to jarring States. The war just closed,
with all its sorrows and disasters, has opened a new career of glory to the
nation it has saved. It has swept away the hostilities of sentiment and of
interest which were a standing menace to its peace. It has destroyed the
institution of slavery, always a cause of sectional agitation and strife, and
has opened for our country the way to unity of interest, of principle, and of
action through all time to come. It has developed in both sections a military
capacity, an aptitude for achievements of war, both by sea and land, before
unknown even to ourselves, and destined to exercise hereafter, under united
councils, an important influence upon the character and destiny of the conti-
nent and the world. And while it has thus revealed, disciplined, and com-
pacted our power, it has proved to us beyond controversy or doubt, by the
course pursued toward both contending sections by foreign powers, that we
must be the guardians of our own independence, and that the principles of
Republican freedom we represent can find among the nations of the earth no
friends or defenders but ourselves.

We call upon you, therefore, by every consideration of your own dignity
and safety, and in the name of liberty throughout the world, to complete the
work of restoration and peace which the President of the United States has
so well begun, and which the policy adopted and the principles asserted by
the present Congress alone obstruct. The time is close at hand when mem-
bers of a new Congress are to be elected. If that Congress shall perpetuate
this policy, and, by excluding loyal States and people from representation in
its halls, shall continue the usurpation by which the legislative powers of the
government arc now exercised, common prudence compels us to anticipate
augmented discontent, a sullen withdrawal from the duties and obligations
of the Federal Government, internal dissension, and a general collision of
sentiments and pretensions which may renew, in a still more fearful shape,
the civil war from which we have just emerged. We call upon you to inter-
pose your power to prevent the recurrence of so transcendent a calamity.
We call upon you in every Congressional district of every State, to secure the
election of members, who, whatever other differences may characterize their politi-
cal action, will unite in r> ri,;/ui:dny the RIGHT OF EVERY STATE OF THE UNION
TO REPRESENTATION ix COXCIRESS, AXD WHO WILL ADMIT TO SKATS, ix KII HER

BRAXCII, EVERY LOYAL RKl'RKSKNTATIVK FROM EVERY STATE IN" ALLEtHAXCK

TO THE GOVERNMENT, WHO MAY BE FOUND BY EACH HOUSE, IN THE

THE PHILADELPHIA ADDRESS : — 1866. 459

CISE OP THE POWER CONFERRED UPON IT BY THE CONSTITUTION, TO HAVB
BEEN DULY ELECTED, RETURNED, AND QUALIFIED FOR A SEAT THKItKIN.

When this shall have been done the government will have been restored to
its integrity, the Constitution of the United States will have been re-estab-
lished in its full supremacy, and the American Union will have again become
what it was designed to be by those who formed it, — a Sovereign Nation,
composed of separate States, each, like itself, moving in a distinct and inde-
pendent sphere, exercising powers defined and reserved by a common Constitu-
tion, and resting upon the assent, the confidence, and co-operation of all the
States and all the people subject to its authority. Thus reorganized and restored
to their constitutional relations, the States and the General Government can
enter in a fraternal spirit, with a common purpose and a common interest,
upon whatever reforms the security of personal rights, the enlargement of
popular liberty, and the perfection of our .Republican institutions may demand.

DECLARATION OF PRINCIPLES.

The National Union Convention, now assembled in the City of Philadelphia,
composed of delegates from every State and Territory in the Union, admon-
ished by the solemn lessons which, for the last five years, it has pleased the
Supreme Ruler of the Universe to give to the American people, profoundly
grateful for the return of peace, desirous, as are a large majority of their
countrymen, in all sincerity, to forget and forgive the past, revering the
Constitution as it comes to us from our ancestors, regarding the Union in its
restoration as more sacred than ever, looking with deep anxiety into the
future as of instant and continuing trial, hereby issues and proclaims the
following Declaration of Principles and Purposes, on which they have with
perfect unanimity agreed, : —

We hail with gratitude to Almighty God the end of war and the return of
peace to our afflicted and beloved land.

The war just closed has maintained the authority of the Constitution, with
all the powers which it confers and all the restrictions which it imposes upon
the General Government, unabridged and unaltered, and it has preserved the
Union with the equal rights, dignity, and authority of the States perfect and
unimpaired.

Representation In the Congress of the United States and in the Electoral
College is a right recognized by the Constitution as abiding in every State,
and as a duty imposed upon its people, — fundamental in its nature and es-
sential to the existence of our Republican institutions; and neither Congress
nor the General Government lias any authority or power to deny this right to
nny state, or withhold its enjoyment under the Constitution from the people
thereof.

460 APPENDIX.

IV.

TVe call upon the people of the United States to elect to Congress, as mem-
bers thereof, none but men who admit this fundamental right of representa-
tion, and who will receive to seats therein loyal representatives from every
State in allegiance to the United States, subject to the constitutional right
of each House to judge of the elections, returns, and qualifications of its own
members.

The Constitution of the United States, and the laws made in pursuance
thereof, are "the supreme law of the land, anything in the Constitution or
laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding." " All the powers not
conferred by the Constitution upon the General Government, nor prohibited
by it to the States, are reserved to the States, or the people thereof; " and
among the rights thus reserved to the States is the right to prescribe quali-
fications for the elective franchise therein, with which right Congress can-
not interfere. No State or combination of States has the right to withdraw
from the Union, or to exclude, through their action in Congress or other-
wise, any other State or States from the Union. The Union of these States
is perpetual, and the authority of its government is supreme within the limi-
tations and restrictions of the Constitution.

VI.

Such amendments to the Constitution of the United States may be made by
the people thereof as they may deem expedient, but only in the mode pointed
out by its provisions ; and in proposing such amendments, whether by Con-
gress or by a Convention, and in ratifying the same, all the States of the
Union have an equal and an indefeasible right to a voice and a vote there-
on.

vn.

Slavery is abolished and forever prohibited; and there is neither desire
nor purpose on the part of the Southern States that it should ever be re-estab-
lished upon the soil or within the jurisdiction of the United States ; and the
enfranchised slaves in all the States of the Union should receive, in common
with all their inhabitants, equal protection in every right of person and prop-
erty.

vm.

While we regard as utterly invalid, and never to be assumed or made of
binding force, any obligation incurred or undertaken in making war against
the United States, we hold the Debt of the Nation to be sacred and inviola-
ble ; and we proclaim our purpose in discharging this, as in performing all
other national obligations, to maintain unimpaired and unimpeached the honor
and faith of the Republic.

IX.

That it is the duty of the National Government to recognize the services of
the Federal soldiers and sailors in the contest just closed, by meeting
promptly and fully all their just and rightful claims for the services they have
rendered the nation, and by extending to those of them who have survived,
and to the widows and orphans of those who have fallen, the most generous
and considerate care.

In Andrew Johnson, President of the United States, who in his great office
has proved steadfast in his devotion to the Constitution, the laws, and inter-

THE PHILADELPHIA ADDRESS : — 1866. 461

ests of his country, unmoved by persecution and undeserved reproach, having
faith unassailable in the people and in the principles of free government, we
recognize a Chief Magistrate worthy of the nation, and equal to the great cri-
sis upon which his lot is cast ; and we tender to him in the discharge of his
high and responsible duties our profound respect, and assurances of our cor-
dial and sincere support.

APPENDIX E.

AN ADDRESS.

DELIVERED BEFORE THE ASSOCIATE ALUMNI OF THE UNIVERSITY OF VER-
MONT, AT BURLINGTON, AUGUST 6, 1850, BY HENRY J. RAYMOND.

GENTLEMEN, — ALUMNI t>F THE UNIVERSITY : "We have assembled to-day
in a peculiar character, and for a peculiar purpose. Laying aside the en-
gagements, the sympathies, and the active relations which identify us
with the mass of our fellow-men, we have come up to these seats of learn-
ing by ourselves, wearing the badge of our scholarship, to commemorate
this anniversary of the day which sent us forth as scholars to mingle in the
scenes, to share the toils, and to meet the responsibilities of active life.
The character in which we have come, the purpose of our coming, and
the interests which, for the hour, we have left behind us, suggest the re-
marks by which I shall endeavor to discharge the duty which your invitation
has imposed upon me. I propose to speak to you, briefly as the occasion
requires, and crudely as the necessities of my position compel me to do, of
the relations winch we sustain, -as scholars, to the country and the age in
which God has been pleased to cast our lot ; of the peculiar duties which cer-
tain aspects of American society devolve upon us, and of the spirit and the
temper in which those duties should be performed.

The object of study is the acquisition of mental and of moral power. It is
to sharpen our vision, to strengthen our faculties, to enable us to seize upon
the vital principles of nature and society, and to wield them for the produc-
tion of marked and essential results. He is a scholar who has acquired,
through his studies, this power; and it is his duty, when he goes forth into
active life, to use it, with all his energy, to improve the condition and ad-
vance the well-being of his fellow-men. There is a tendency on the part of
scholars to isolate themselves, to withdraw from the struggling activities of
life, and become solitary worshippers of the studies which have enlisted
their love; and this disposition is sometimes justified upon the attractive
principle that knowledge must be pursued for its own sake ; that it is de-
grading science to make it subservient to utilitarian ends, and that he only is
a true scholar who finds in scholarship alone his best reward. There is
truth in the position, but not in the practical conduct which it is made to
sanction. Knowledge is degraded, science is debased, when made the
tools of sordid selfishness; and that man has never entered into the essential
spirit of scholarship who becomes its devotee merely for the gratification it
brings to his own ambition, or to his selfish craving for power and suprem-

462

AN ADDRESS.

463

acy over his fellow-men. But the selfishness of science is as ignoble and
unjust as the selfishness of power or of wealth. The scholar who acquires
knowledge simply to hoard it up, or who studies merely for the gratification
which study affords, is as truly a miser as the man who heaps up gold for the
pleasure which its acquirement and its glitter confer. A life of contempla-
tion — of secluded study and thought — is often commended as alone worthy
of a noble and ingenuous mind. Scholars are exhorted to hold themselves
aloof from the struggling passions and contending interests of the world, —
to lift themselves above the mists and smoke of earth, and to get themselves
up to the serene mountain-tops of meditation, — leaving the world to its
blindness and its warfare, and dwelling themselves, "like the stars, apart."
But, however flattering it may seem to philosophy, the counsel is false to
truth, false to the interests of humanity, and false to the spirit of the Christian
faith. The essential element of Christianity is the abnegation of self, and
devotion to the welfare of our fellow-men; and it should enter into the
scholarship of the time, as well as into every o^her form of influence and of
power. " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," is a Divine injunction as
wide as humanity in its scope, — as comprehensive as the interests of human-
ity in its application. We have no more right to heap up vast treasures of
knowledge, without using them for the good of others, than we have to
amass enormous wealth while our neighbors starve. The scholar has far less
right than the poorest drudge to stand aloof from the great battle of social
life, to withdraw his hand from the great work of progressive redemption
which the human race requires. " Power to do good," says Lord Bacon, " is
the true and lawful end of all aspiring. For good thoughts (though God
accept them), yet towards men are little better than good dreams, except
they be put in act. And men must know, that in this theatre of man's life
it is reserved only for God and angels to be lookers-on."

It is the duty and the destiny of the human race to improve its condition
and its character. That it has done so in the ages that are past, history af-
fords decisive evidence. That the millions of our fellow-men who now live
upon the earth are happier, wiser, and better than those who lived upon it a
thousand years ago ; that they possess the means of greater outward com-
fort; that their knowledge of the world around them is larger and more cor-
rect ; that they have better command of the elements of power which exist
in nature upon every side; that they more truly understand, and more justly
observe, their relations to each other and to God, — that in these and in all
other respects by which progress and improvement can be determined, the
rare has gone forward, and is still advancing, is a belief which none of us would
willingly relinquish. The most philosophic of living statesmen has defined
progressive civilization to consist of two elements, — the improvement of
society and the development of individual character; the ••melioration of
the social system and the expansion of the mind and faculties of man.*
Judged by either of these tests, it seems impossible to doubt that human his-
tory has been characterized by human progress. There is not a community
on the face of the earth, of which the life has continued in full viiror. which
is not marked by growth ; which does not exhibit evidences of higher civ-

.1.
* Gvizot. — History of the Civilization of Europe, chap. i.

464 APPEXDIX.

ilization, of more general and complete culture, than it did a thousand or a
hundred years ago. Progress in the outward conditions of social life seems,
indeed, to be an inevitable result of that impulse of the individual to improve
his own condition, which is universal, and never wholly unsuccessful. As
the individual members of society advance in comfort, in wealth, in manners,
in morals, society advances with them. As they become wiser and better,
and more intelligent and more powerful ; as they come to apprehend with more
clearness the true end of their social existence, and to strive with more en-
ergy for its attainment, the society which they compose must occupy higher
ground, and come nearer to that standard of perfection which may be unat-
tainable, but at which, nevertheless, the inherent nature of man compels him
to aim. Nor is this advancement confined, as is sometimes urged, to mate-
rial ends. Progress, indeed, in the outward relations which men sustain,
involves or compels a corresponding progress in their character and their
faculties. The great inventions of modern times — even those which seem
most purely mechanical in their nature, and most exclusively material in their
ends — have not only changed the outward form of social life, but have ex-
panded the intellect, developed the faculties, and improved the character of
the great masses of the human race. The invention of gunpowder has pro-
duced results no less important in the cabinet councils and on the popular
character of nations than on the actual field of battle. It has modified na-
tional ambition, softened national animosity, and infused into national sover-
eignties greater regard for the interests and the rights of those who live beneath
their sway. The invention of printing — the most purely mechanical of all de-
vices — has done more to improve individual character, to make men wiser and
better, to inspire society with love of truth and regard for right, and thus
to promote that general well-being in which true progress consists, than all
the speculations of all the philosophers of the ancient world. No man doubts
that in what are sometimes called the practical sciences, — in chemistry,
astronomy, navigation, engineering; in medicine, surgery, mechanics, and
kindred branches of human knowledge ; in all that implies insight into the
principles and essential powers of nature, and which arms man with new
faculties, and enables him to accomplish greater results, — the last five hun-
dred years have witnessed more advancement, more actual visible progress,
than the entire antecedent history of the world's existence. Nor will it be
less evident to the careful and unprejudiced student, that this progress of
society has led to a corresponding progress of intelligence and morality;
that the life of individuals has become more refined and virtuous ; that the
intellect of individuals has become more expanded, their intelligence
wider, their purposes nobler, their motives worthier, their conduct more cor-
rect, and their character in all respects better, just in proportion to this
advancement in their social condition, and this progressive dominion over
nature. Man not only now enjoys means of outward comfort and material
happiness which were unknown a thousand years ago, but he is a being of a
larger intellect, of wider vision, of higher impulses, and of nobler ambition
now than he was then. Individuals, it may be, then existed superior in in-
tellect to any who have lived since. It may be that Plato, and Shakespeare,
and Bacon, and Milton were loftier types of humanity than the world since
their day has ever known. But such men are the direct gift of God to the

AN ADDRESS. 465

human race, and are not the growth, or the exponents, like other men, of the
age in which they live. They come into the world because God .sends them,
and not because the culture of their times finds in them its true expn
They come as the instruments and authors of a higher culture, not as indexes
of the height which the advancing tide of civilization has already reached.
They were above the knowledge of their time, — so far above it that they
generally became its victims; and the very fact that we understand and
appreciate them better proves that our age is in advance of that in which
they lived. Human progress consists in the elevation of the human race,
and not in the elevation of individuals above the race. The superiority
of individuals is only a means for the elevation of the race. All men, how-
ever unequal in faculties and condition, in the eye of God and of reason,
stand upon the same level; all are gifted with immortal souls; all are ca-
pable of knowledge, of thought, of heavenly aspirations, and of lofty enjoy-
ments. No progress is complete, therefore, which does not carry the great
mass of mankind forward, towards that perfection of faculties and enjoy-
ments which ideal humanity contemplates. And those who would aid the
cause of human progress must labor for that wide diffusion of knowledge
and of virtue — for that general education and guidance of all their fellow-
men — by which alone that progress can be secured.

Societies are the appointed means for the growth of man ; for the develop-
ment of his moral and intellectual faculties ; for the promotion of human
happiness and the advancement of the human race. They are the offspring
of nature and necessity. It is idle to look for their origin in compacts or
calculations ; in specific acts or special faculties. Societies are not formed,
— they only grow. Their seed is inherent in humanity. Wherever men
exist, society springs up spontaneously. It is the body, — the outward,
organic form in which the soul of humanity clothes itself as it is developed
and enlarged. It is, therefore, only through society that this essential spirit
of the race can be reached ; that anything effectual can be done towards
carrying man forward on the high career of progress and improvement on
which his nature and his destiny compel him to enter. Human progress, the
growth of man, is accordingly measured by the progress of society; and the
history of society, political, social, and religious, is thus the history of
humanity. It is only by tracing the growth of nations, of churches, and
social organizations; by marking the degree of mental and moral culture
which they have reached ; by noting the extent to which they have developed
the faculties, and secured the well-being of those whom they embrace, — that
we can determine the tendency of the age and the rate at which it moves.
We judge that humanity in England has gone forward, because the English
nation has grown powerful, intelligent, religious, and brave. \Ve decide
that in Spain the race has gone backward, that social life has there l<»t its
vigor and its health, because the nation has grown feeble, the church >uper-
stitiotis. and society corrupt. It is by the condition of human societies that
we thus judge of the progress of the human race; and it is through such
societies that scholars must labor to advance the welfare of their fellow-men.

The American scholar is a member of American society, lie is identified
with its interests, and hound up in its destiny. And upon him, in a peculiar
degree, — as possessed of peculiar power, — devolves the duty of guiding its

466 APPENDIX.

energies, shaping its character, and determining its fate. The knowledge he
has acquired, the discipline he has undergone, are intended to give him
clearer insight than other men possess into the complex energies that con-
stitute its vitality, and thus to give him greater power in guiding them to
noble and beneficent ends. Society is not wholly mechanical, nor is it
•wholly intellectual. Its interests belong to both departments, and its
progress consists in the development and advancement of both. And this
development in each depends upon a knowledge and mastery of the princi-
ples,— the fixed, inherent, controlling laws by which both are shaped. Now
that knowledge and that mastery, it is the specific object of scholarship to
confer. The special purpose of those studies to which colleges and univer-
sities are eve^ where devoted is to make the student at home among the
secret springs of all social life ; to give him a clear, comprehensive, and accu-
rate knowledge of the principles and the laws of social growth, so that he
may labor with more intelligence, with greater precision of purpose, and
•with more complete success for its promotion. All his studies tend, or
should tend, to this result. He has studied the ancient languages, — those
standing miracles of philosophy and of thought, — and had learned by thus
" examining the power and nature of words," which are, in Lord Bacon's
phrase, "the footsteps and prints of reason," * how language contributes to
the development of thought and the growth of social character. He has
studied the history of other nations, and has traced out the secret springs of
their strength, and the progress of their decay and death. He has pondered
the words and the acts of great men who have guided 'nations and shaped
the character of whole ages, and has learned to follow them, with intelligent
vision, step by step, on the shining path which they illumined. He has
looked in at least upon the wondrous arrangement of Nature's divine ma-
chinery, and has learned the principles and the laws upon which the power
and order and harmony of the universe depend. He has had his reflections
turned back upon his own mind, and has thus learned the laws of thought —
the rules which reason imposes upon the operations of the intellect — the in-
fluences which direct and control the actions of men. And the result of all
this study and all this discipline — if they have been pursued aright — has
been to give him greater power over nature and over man; to send him
forth into society armed with higher faculties of vision and of action than
the mass of his fellow-men possess. He can see more clearly the tendencies
of events; he understands more accurately the grounds and the worth of
current opinions ; he foresees with more certainty the result of any movement ;
he estimates more correctly the weight of special motives ; he knows more
of the character of all social influences, and can guide them better, oppose
them, if necessary, with more success, infuse into them the elements of
healthful power which they lack, and exert over all social movements and
tendencies and speculations a greater, a better, and a more beneficent control
than those who have not enjoyed the discipline which has given him this
power. He can do more for society, because he knows it better; because
he knows the principles, the inherent energies, which constitute its life, and
by which alone its growth is possible.

And now it is his duty to use the power thus acquired for the advancement

* Advancement of Learning, Book II.

AN ADDRESS. 467

of the society in whose bosom he lives, and whose welfare he is bound to
serve. In this country, especially, no man can be wholly a private citizen ;
no man can throw off all public and all social duties. The form of our gov-
ernment, the whole structure of our institutions, make every man a distinct,
component part of that sovereign power which gives laws to the State, form
to society, and character to the nation. It is incumbent, therefore, upon
every one to take such part as bis faculties fit him to perform, in the public
business of society and the State. Every American is of necessity, in the
original meaning of the word, a politician, charged with the care and the
conduct of public affairs. And the American scholar has certainly no right
to withdraw from the performance of public duties, because he is, or ought to
be, pre-eminently qualified to perform them aright. The State needs his best
services. American society — the destiny of the greatest nation of its age
the world has ever seen — demands his best endeavors to shape its character
and direct its course. Why should any scholar — any man animated with the
courage, inspired by the enthusiasm, and gifted with the power which true
scholarship confers — shrink from this hearty, hand-to-hand enlistment in the
great struggles upon which the well-being of so many millions of his fellow-
men depeuds? What is there in the culture of letters which should make
man insensible to the claims of his race, or relax his sinews for the work
which the welfare of the world requires? We stigmatize the religious devo-
tee, who, for the good of his soul, dwells apart in the desert, or shuts himself
up in his cell, to spend his life in meditation and in prayer, as having so far
mistaken the spirit of religion as to substitute selfishness for the charity
which it enjoins; why should the literary monk or hermit obtain more favor,
or upon what ground can he claim greater indulgence, for a similar act of
selfishness and insensibility?

American society is marked by features and tendencies which render the
efforts of scholars especially desirable, as well as especially hopeful. The
influence of cultivated intellect upon any people is always good; but no-
where is it more needed, or more certain to produce good results, than in this
country and in this age. The great characteristic of American society is the
vigor of its vitality — the wonderful rapidity of its growth — the transcendent
energy which marks all its movements. All its activities, in all departments,
are more nervous, more full of life, and more effective in results than those
of any other age or any other people. Colonies are planted, plantations
spring into States, and States put on the strength of empires, more rapidly
than ever before since the world began. Revolutions take place in modes of
action and of thought, in churches, in societies, and in civil government;
constitutions are reformed, creeds are sloughed off, customs and hal>
outgrown, plans and projects become obsolete; everything moves with a
quicker step, and with more force than in any other age or country. I am
aware that all this has its evils; but I speak of it now merely to xuy that
this tr;ui-eeinl«'nt energy of the times demands and encourages, in a peculiar
manner, the dirert. systematic, courageous, sympathetic, ami pcrsevr:
forts of the American scholar. lie is needed, witli his quicker in-iirht, and
his clearer vision, t > gui.l • it arii^it. II • is :i • vl • 1. with hK soiin-ii-
nient and his greater knowledge of the shallows and quicksand* of
navigation, to keep the ship of state from beinj: driven upon wreck

468 APPENDIX.

tremendous power. American scholarship must lake the helm, and hold it
with firm and unyielding grasp, throughout the adventurous voyage, on seas
unvexed before, upon which this great society has embarked. And it must
be a scholarship adapted to the work, and filled with a courage and a hardi-
hood equal to the emergency. It must reach down below the surface of scho-
lastic learning, and take hold upon the roots of things as well as of words,
of human action and human character as well as of speech. It does not con-
sist in familiarity with names, or events, or written books, — even the great-
est and the noblest the world has known. All this is well in its place. It
lends a grace to manners and to life, and becomingly adorns the conquests
over ignorance and vice and degradation, which the hard blows of sinewy
arms have already won. But it is no substitute for them ; it will not do
their work. The scholarship which the country and the age require must
make Greek and Latin, science and art, philosophy and history, the means
and materials out of which the good shall acquire strength, and activity, and
ability to work. It must build up and strengthen the whole man, giving
him wider sympathies, quicker sensibilities, more courage, loftier views of
life and of duty; arming him with power to strike harder blows, and with
a surer aim, and a higher purpose, and thus fitting him for the championship
and the guidance which the time demands. Nor is it enough that the scholar
carry with him into the world that love of letters which his studies here may
have engendered, or that he solace his leisure hours with the recreation
which the continued pursuit of letters is so well calculated to afford.
Studies of this kind are needed, as Cicero* says; a solace for all hours and
all occasions; but in this age, and especially in this land, they must be some-
thing else. They must give strength as well as delight. They must breathe
courage and high resolves into the heart, and nerve the arm with power to
carry them into effect. Not only must they go with us as we seek the shade,
or wander in listless admiration among the retired recesses of the world, but
they must descend into the dust of the arena, and infuse life and courage and
strength into the soul of the American scholar there, as he performs his part
in the elevation and advancement of American society.

And, not to deal too much in generalities upon this subject, let me say that
the scholar should enter zealously and with energy into the daily labors of
every department of social life. His efforts should be felt in every tiling
which relates to the improvement of society, or which influences, in any de-
gree, the character and destiny of his fellow-men. His voice should be heard
in the public councils of his country; and his judgment should make itself
felt in shaping the laws, and in forming that public sentiment higher than
laws by which this land is to be governed, and the action of her' people
guided and controlled. No engine of public influence should be beyond his
reach or beneath his care. He should remember that as the life of an individ-
ual is made up of successive hours, and his character and destiny shaped by
the acts of each, so the national history is the result of those movements of
society, trifling and unimportant as they often appear, which mark the prog-
ress of its daily life. If he would influence that history, therefore, and aid
in giving it character and tone, he must do it through these occurrences of

* Ciceroni's Oratio pro Archia Poeta.

AN ADDRESS. 469

its ordinary activity. He must not wait for great occasions, or for some over-
whelming crisis, as alone worthy of his interposition. Every day pi-
opportunities, every event brings its own demand, for his exertion-;. The
energies of social life are always active, siud are always shaping the destinies
of the community. Nations do not live in great events alone. The vital
forces which create their history, like the powers of nature which stimulate
its growth, work without ceasing, though often without noise or observation.
It is by and through them that the scholar must stamp his own character
upon the times in which he lives. No political election can take place, no pub-
lic law can be framed, no social usage can spring up, no opinion can be
broached, no public question can be mooted, — nothing can be done or pro-
posed, which will not be better done for the active participation of the sound,
well-trained, right-minded scholar.

I would not be thought insensible to the dignity or the worth of a pro-
founder and more exclusive devotion to solid learning than is contemplated by
these remarks; nor do I question the necessity and utility of a higher class
of scholars, even if they take no direct part in the affairs of social life. The
nation needs such men and such a culture. They tend to elevate the spirit
of a people, to carry forward the higher interests of science and letters, to
build up the loftiest love of knowledge and of truth, and, in Milton's fine
phrase, " to inbreed and cherish in a great people the seeds of virtue and
public civility." No nation ever can have too many of such men, provided
they are all of the proper stamp. This nation especially courts their culture,
and needs their elevating and ennobling spirit. But even they must not live
for themselves alone, nor for the studies which enlist their love ; nor can they
safely or rightfully hold themselves aloof from the race, whom God has made
it tin if duty also to serve. Let them devote themselves as ardently as they
may to the cultivation of science ; let them push their researches into the
farthest recesses of nature and of life; let them master all wisdom, penetrate
all hidden mysteries ; let them

" With lamp at midnight hour,
In some high, lonely tower,

Outwatch the Bear,

With thrice great Hermes, or unsphere
The spirit of Plato ; " —

but let them not forget that the object of all their learning, — the true end at
which, as men and as scholars, they are bound to aim, — is " God's glory and
the relief of Man's estate." It is a mistake, moreover, to suppose tli.-r
a elass can be created by outward appliances or encouragements. The men
who are to fill its ranks are marked out for that service by natural endow-
ments and by strong indications thereto, which outward hindrances ran do
little to thwart, and which direct temptation and rewards would he more
likely to betray and deprave than to encourage and fortify. They must be
men of loftier spirit and higher aims than to seek or require factitiou-
ance, — men whose temper difficulty only exalts, whose connive danger
quickens, ami who are content to leave their labors, if need he, :•> be weighed
and estimated by the " times succeeding." Such men are not the product of
national manners, or of the spirit and lite of any age.

470 APPENDIX.

Xor can the great mass of American scholars — of those who every year go
forth from these and kindred halls of learning — look forward to any such
devotion to letters alone. Here and there, from among them all, one and
another may come forth, to be thinkers for the race, — to live above the age
and for future generations ; but the great mass of them are to be active par-
takers in the bustle of their own society and in the activities of their own
time. And it is to them that my remarks are designed to be addressed. I
desire to impress upon them the lesson, that it is their duty to make them-
selves the captains and the guides, -the leaders aud inspire rs, the teachers and
the helpers, of those among whom their lot may be cast, aud whose advance-
ment they are bound to seek. And whatsoever they find to do in this wide
and fertile field let them do it with their might. Let them bring to whatever
needful work lies nearest their hands all the clearness of vision, the fairness
of temper, the soundness of judgment, the insight and the foresight, the
strength and the skill, which their studies are designed to create and develop.

There is another point of no small importance in connection with the duty
of the scholar to his country and his age. If he would render it any efle t-
ual service, he must work in sympathy with its general spirit aud its predom-
inant tendencies. There is a current in the stream of time and of national
life, which, however it may seem to break into eddies, aud even to turn and
double upon its own course, has yet a uniform direction and a resistle>s
power. It is not needful that the scholar should passively surrender himself
to its sweep; but it will be worse than useless for him to spend his strength
in beating against it. No one can have read history to any purpose without
having seen that particular nations at particular times are under the domina-
tion of some pervading tendency, — are swept on by the strong current of
some prevailing thought. There is a spirit in every age which is not the
conscious creation of any individual, but the spontaneous growth of the
events of the time. The great eras and exploits of history are its ofl'spring
and its expression. The Crusades were not the work of Peter the hermit,
although his, perchance, was the voice which, like a rallying trumpet, gath-
ered the hosts in whose hearts had long been burning the purpose to rescue
the holy sepulchre from the hands of its infidel despoilers. Cromwell was not
the author of the great revolution, which did more for English liberty than
any event by which it had been precedent. The stealthy tread of civil aud
ecclesiastical despotism had been detected years before ; and a current of
popular feeling had set in; a spirit of resistance had been silently growing
up and acquiring strength, which needed only some mighty hand and coura-
geous heart to summon it to the field, and guide its tremendous energies in
the great encounter. Individuals may direct and sometimes control the spirit
and tendency of the time; but they cannot turn it backward, nor, without
losing all their influence over it, can they themselves go backward upon its
bosom. They must work with it. They must direct, and elevate, aud purify
its strivings; they must use its energies, and compel them to work out their
higher ends, if they would render any effectual service to their country and
their age. They must imitate the process by which improvement is effected
in the world of vegetable life. The skilful gardener will not cut down the
wildest and most unfruitful tree, if it have life and productive vigor at its
heart. Let them engraft upon the least promising tendency of the time their

AN ADDRESS. 471

germs of a better life ; let them infuse into the wild energies of the day their
clearer spirit and their higher aims ; for tlicy may have power thus to redeem
what they cannot successfully resist or destroy. Let them learn practical
philosophy frotn the counsel of the Bohemian king to the fair Perdita : —

" You see, sweet maid, we marry
A gentler scion to tho wildest stock,
And make conceive a book of baser kind
By bud of nobler race: — this is an art
Which does mend nature, — change it rather; but
Tho art itself is nature." *

And in close connection with this principle lie considerations of marked
importance for the American scholar who would understand aright his own
relations to the society and the times in which he lives.

The tendencies of American society, political and civil, are often repre-
sented by thoughtful men as being wholly evil and dangerous. The current
of public opinion and of public conduct is regarded as downwards. In polit-
ical matters it is said that we are rapidly running into the most perilous radi-
calism; that our lack of social rank, of a high nobility, of an ancestry to
which we may look back with pride, and of a long history made brilliant by
its events, and potent over the imaginations of our pebple, deprives us of
what will always be found essential to national growth and culture. It is
argued that we are rapidly becoming leaders ; that we grow more and more
intolerant of superiority ; that the dominant American sentiment is one of dis-
trust and dislike of everything above us in power, in intellect, or in position;
that public morality is becoming extinct; that we are not only losing all love
for noble culture and for high scholarship, but tliat we distrust, denounce, and
would destroy them ; that the whole tendency of opinion and of etTort is tocheck
all high ambition, and to bring society to one dead and unproductive le°vel.
And upon this gloomy representation of American life and society, many of our
worthiest and best men ground their earnest exhortations for the practical
interference of the American scholar. It is his special mis.-ion, they >:iy. to
withstand this current of the times; to "take up arms against this sea" of
dangers, and, " by opposing, end them." It is for him, they urge, to turn back
this tide of radicalism which threatens destruction to all established laws, to
all that has been sanctioned and sanctified by antiquity, and to brini; men
back to the old ways which experience has sauctilied, and which aucotral
wisdom has stamped with its hallowing approbation.

Not denying or doubting that there is much room for improvement in all
these matters connected with our national character and social tendencies,
I nevertheless distrust the soundness of the sweeping judgment which is thus
pronounced. The effect of thus dwelling exclusively upon the darker and
least promising symptoms of our social life seems to me injurious because
it tends to brin^ scholars and the world into hostile relations: to impl.-nt
distrust and deliance where common interests demand that sympathy, mutual
confidence, and hopeful alliance should unite the best energies of both fora
common -end. I doubt, moreover, the correctness of the assumed facts on

* Winter's Tale, Act IV., Scene III.

472 APPENDIX.

which this condemnation of the age is based. I recognize, it is true, on every
side the energies and the influences which elicit this alarm as to the growth
and welfare of our country, but I cannot see that they justify it to anything
like its full extent. It is true that, as a separate, sovereign "nation, we are
still young. As compared with the nations of Europe, or the dead and buried
nations of remote antiquity, we are still in infancy. But certainly youth can-
not be deemed a disadvantage, either to nations or individuals. If it be a
fault in a people to be young, it is one which, as Jeremy Taylor answered the
king who told him he was too young to be his chaplain, they may hope,
under God, and with due diligence, in course of time somewhat to amend.
The fact that we are young — that we have no history — should in truth excuse
the errors iuto which we fall, or at least afford ground of good hope that
they may be corrected. It certainly is greatly to our advantage that we have
not reached that stage of social life when social evils have become chronic —
when false principles and habits have become so thoroughly inwoven with
the whole fabric of our society as to form the main pillars of its strength,
poisoning and destroying what nevertheless rests upon them for support.
Even the worst and most threatening of the evils which this over-jealous
scrutiny detests in our society are comparatively harmless on this very ac-
count,— because they have but just taken root; because they have not yet
entwined themselves into the whole fabric of our life, and may yet be plucked
away without injury to the system which they threaten to injure. The great-
est impediment to progress and improvement in the nations of Europe
springs from the fact that they are no longer young; that the evils which
afflict society have become so thoroughly inwrought into its whole constitu-
tion that they cannot be plucked away without imminent peril to society
itself. The disease has become so thoroughly seated, so deeply rooted, that
the use of the knife, imperative as it seems, threatens the life of the patient.
Here is the most formidable obstacle which reformation in England is com-
pelled to encounter. The roots of her greatest evils — those which bear most
heavily upon the great mass of her people, and which seem to shut them out
forever from the sunlight of hope — reach far back in her history, and have in-
tertwined themselves with every muscle and nerve of her existence. Her no-
bility, which, to a certain extent, is a bulwark of her power, is also an
element of her weakness. Her debt, which is a bond of the loyalty of one
portion of her people, crushes and destroys the rest. The social distinctions
which she has established, — founded, not upon worth and personal qualities —
not the natural, normal growth of nature and of social life, but based upon
arbitrary and accidental differences, upon accidents of birth or of wealth, —
while they do something to strengthen that gradation of rank which is neces-
sary to support a throne at its summit, do much more to alienate and op-
press the great body of her people, and thus to weaken the great base upon
which the whole fabric rests. And the fact that she is an old nation, that her
framework has become firmly knit, and her constitution fixed, makes it im-
possible for her to throw off these elements of her peril and decay. The
same thing holds true of the other nations of Europe. Even slight reforms,
which are among us affected by the regular goings-on of every-day life, these
cause convulsions which "shatter the whole bulk" of their society. Herein,
certainly, it is an advantage to be young; for the evils and the dangers

AN ADDRESS. 473

which the inexperience and impulsive energy of youth involve are more th:>n
counterbalanced by the vigor and elasticity which render their correctioi

Now the correction and amendment of these evils, in this country, is pecu-
liarly the work of tlu: American Scholar; and he will find unlooked-for aids
in this endeavor, in that youth of the nation which is so often con^idrn <l a
serious defect. He will find that in nations, as in individuals, youth is the
susceptible period of life; that impressions and instructions will then be
easy which afterwards become impossible; that earnest, intelligent, right-
minded effort will, in this country, produce results at which it would be folly
to aim in any other. We have not reached that stage when habit becomes law ;
•when all the modes of thought and activity grow rigid and inflexible; when
innovation seems death, and when the man who suggests change, or proposes
reform, is branded as an enemy of the society which he seeks to serve.

And yet, this very openness to new impressions, this ductility of temper,
this very docility and teachableness, which is always and everywhere the
only ground and condition of knowledge and improvement, is often made the
occasion for new despondencies and complaints. We lack conservatism;
we have no reverence for the past, we do not lean upon and adhere to the
wisdom of antiquity. Instead of riding in the safe and easy anchorage which
our lathers, or their fathers, have found out, we are cutting adrift from all
these old moorings, and are launching out for ourselves, rashly relying upon
our own wisdom and courage, upon the broad and stormy sea of radical ex-
periment. And timid prophets of the past see nothing but certain and disas-
trous wreck in the immediate future.

The times teem, to their vision, with perilous inventions, with projects of
radicalism ami re-form, which threaten to sap all the foundations of society
and plunge mankind into anarchy and ruin. Conservatism is, to a certain ex-
tent, unquestionably an essential element of social stability and strength.
No wise man will turn his back upon the past, or undervalue the teachings
of its experience. Especially is it the province and the duty of the scholar
to study the successive <levelopments of its history, and to trace through them
the elements of its failure or its success. But this is not the extent or the nature
of the claims that are often preferred on behalf of the conservatism so warmly
commended to favor. Its motto — stare super antiqnax vias — implies much
more than this. It enjoins an adherence to the old, not because it is proved
to be better, but because it Isold. It inculcates reliance upon the superior
wisdom of those who have lived before us. merely because they did live be-
fore we wore born. It seeks not for the reason of a practice or the ground
of a principle, but for a precedent in their support. Its look is always to the
past, and it is always a look of confidence, of reverence, of fa>c;.na-rd and
complete reliance. It deprecates every variation from the paths by which an-
cient nations t rave, led their weary and devious journey, and enjoins us to
stand upon the ways which they found safe.

This gloomy and desponding view of our character and prospects, in my
judgment, involves two serious and mischievous misapprehensions, — the one
of a principle, the other of a fact. I do not believe that i-.m-e- -\ .r .-m. in
this sense, is an element of growth; and I do not believe that there is any
essential lack of true conservatism : any peculiar and perilous excess of radi-
calism, political or social, iu our own country and age.

474 APPENDIX.

Lord Bacon has a remark which should strike at the root of the false no-
tions of conservatism, of which I have been speaking. " Antiqidtas seculi,'1
he says, " juventus mundi. These times are the ancient times, when the world
is ancient, and not those which we account ancient ordine rctroyrado by a
computation backwards from ourselves."*

We are living in the real antiquity. The ways of to-day are antiquissimas
vias. The earth is older now than it has ever been before. Whatever wis-
dom, therefore, age may bring with it, is our inheritance. To look backward
for it, to grope among the early nations and experiences of time for max-
ims and principles of wisdom, is like going back to childhood for the sagacity
and judgment which mature years and long experience alone can bring. It
would be very difficult to assign any valid reason why a principle which had
its advent into actual life — which was brought forth and applied to the
affairs of society — a thousand years ago, should be a priori sounder or more
worthy of our faith and adoption than one born to-day. If experience has
proved its truth — if its essential justice may be clearly traced in the benefits
it has conferred upon the race, from that time to this, th"n, indeed, does it
come to us with " titles manifold" to our favor and our faith. But the bare
fact that it had its birth in the past does not entitle it to our reception. It
is not in its favor. The just presumption which that fact warrants is against
its worth, because it was the growth of a cruder and less mature time than
that which it claims to rule. Unless we assume that the world has gone
backwards; that men have become less wise, less intelligent, less able to
judge accurately and weigh candidly, than they were ages ago, we should
naturally regard a new thought, a new discovery, a new practice better than
the old, because it is truly the child of all the culture which the past
affords. The present is the offspring of the past, and the natural inheritor of
its culture and its wealth. Whatever of good and true, "of just and befit-
ting, the past, by its long experiences and accumulated wisdom, has elabo-
rated, descends to the present, and forms part of its essence and its life. All
the noble deeds and noble words of the olden time, — the achievements of
heroes, the songs of poets, the eloquence of orators, — whatever tended to
give to any portion of the past its grandeur and its strength, — has entered
into the present, and made it nobler and wiser and better than it would
otherwise have been. Thus it is that nations grew. Each generation feeds
upon the action and the thought bequeathed to it by those which went be-
fore. From this nurture its spirit receives a loftier tone — its energy has
more vitality — and its achievements in all departments become correspond-
ingly greater and worthier, and more beneficent.

The life of every age, the predominant spirit which gives it character
and activity, has a vigor and power peculiar to itself. Its natural tendency

* Advancement of Learning, Book I. The same sentiment is repeated in the Novum Or-
ganum, Book I., Aphorism 84. " The opinion which men cherish of antiquity is altogether
idle, and scarcely accords with the term. For the old age and increasing years of the
world should, in reality, be considered as antiquity ; and this is rather the character of
our own times than of the less advanced age of the world in those of the ancients. For the
latter, with respect to ourselves, are ancient and older, with respect to the world, modera
and younger."

AN ADDRESS.

is advancement, growth, new developments of Itself. It strives constantly
and strenuously to go forward, and to carry forward with it the body of so-
ciety, of which it is the informing and energizing spirit. Conservatism would
have it stand still; plant its feet in the footsteps which its predecessors
trod, aud be content with the degree of wisdom and of achievement which
they reached. But this is unreasonable, and, fortunately for the world, it is
impossible. Social life is as. truly and as thoroughly subject to the law of
growth as vegetable life or the soul of man. It pushes forward by its own
inherent power. It seeks change, innovation, new forms of life, new modes
of activity and self-development. And the great advantage which American
society enjoys over any other society on the face of the earth is the free
scope which it affords to this progressive tendency. Society here is thor-
oughly alive. It is thoroughly pervaded by this spirit of innovation and ad-
vancement. Every mind teems with new suggestions, new devices, new
inventions, some of them crude, foolishly absurd, the offspring often of igno-
rance ; but all indicating life, energy, activity, a forth-reaching and progress-
ive spirit. "What," we may exclaim with Milton, "what could a man re-
quire more from a nation so pliant and so prone to seek after knowledge, — a
nation not slow and dull, but of a quick, ingenious, and piercing spirit,
acute to invent, subtle and sinewy to discourse ; not beneath the reach of any
point the highest that human capacity can soar to? What wants there to
such a towardly and pregnant soil, but wise and faithful laborers, to make a
knowing people a nation of prophets, of sages, aud of worthies ?"*

And yet this spirit is distrusted as radicalism, and the scholarship of the
land is invoked to a crusade against it. The dangers of radicalism, to this
country and this age, seem to me to have been greatly exaggerated, mainly
because ice are apt to underrate the poicer of latent conservatism -which ahcays
inheres in society. We do not realize the degree to which actual life is a mat-
ter of habit. Each generation is naturally inclined to follow the example of
its predecessors. Its vis inertia is at war with its law of growth. Every
variation from established customs aud established laws, no matter how evi-
dently it may be the natural growth of time and progress, is always regarded
with distrust aud aversion. There is not a movement of the miud towards
improvement, in any age or nation, which has not been forced to contend with
this conservative tendency. Even in science, where the demonstrations
of pure intellect seem entitled to pure authority, and in practical life, where
the convenience and comfort of man should convince his judgment, no new
step has ever been taken which had not to struggle, more or less, with this
unwillingness to leave the ancient and accustomed ways. The theory of
gravitation was once distrusted as a novelty. The rotation of the earth was
once looked upon with horror, as a most daring device of impious radicalism.
The conservatism of the time was menaced by both, and made war upon both
with all the energy aud fervor characteristic of its claims. So has it been
with all the inventions of science, and all the devices of art. From the high-
est to the lowest, from a new theory of the heavens to a novel construction
of a cart-wheel, everything new has been compelled to flght for a foothold
on the earth. When Edward Horning, in 1690, under letters patent, proposed

* Speech for the liberty of unlicensed printing.

476 APPENDIX.

to light the streets of London, he was denounced with as much zeal as if
he had proposed to set the world on fire. When the first stage-coach was
started from London in 1669, the daring innovation of running forty miles a
day aroused the conservatism of the kingdom to a most vigorous war of re-
monstrances and protests, of petitions and complaints. The first newspaper
created as much alarm among the conservatives of England, as the depravity
of the press awakens among those of our own time.* Less than thirty years
fiave elapsed since the leading Quarterly of Europe ridiculed the .project of a
railroad on which trains could run fifteen miles an hour; and ten years were
spent by the American inventor of the magnetic telegraph before he could
obtain even a respectful hearing for his claims. Every new discovery in
every department of science, — in chemistry, in astronomy, in medicine, —
every new invention in every department of art and of practical life, has been
compelled to encounter the sternest hostility of the conservatism of its age.
Saturn now, as in the old mythology, strives to devour his offspring. Time
distrusts and trembles before the new powers and principles which she her-
self brings forth.

We are apt to complain that in this country there is no reverence for the
past, no respect for its wisdom, no willingness to consult and profit by its
experience. Is this so? Are we really so self-reliant as this opinion would
imply? It would be difficult, I suspect, to find any department of society or
of life, in which warrant can be found for such a judgment. All our institu-
tions, political, social, aud religious, are merely transplantations of those of
former ages ; or, at most, they are engrafted upon those which are the growth
of former times. We have in some things, it is true, made changes ; but it
has only been to lop off excrescences, or to dispense with unessential forms.
Our boldest innovations have been made in political affairs ; yet even here we
have adopted the fundamental principles of the British constitution, only giv-
ing them more full and complete development, aud adopting their organic
forms to our new condition. The right of the people to frame their own
laws, and to choose their own rulers, — the fact that essential sovereignty
rests with the people and for their well-being, — is as explicitly recognized in
the English constitution as in our own. We have only given it more full and
complete effect, and even this has been done as it ought to be done, with cau-
tious steps, and by a timid course of hesitating experiment. And even now
our public sentiments are far more conservative than much that may be found
in the writings of Milton, of Algernon Sydney, and of other red-letter names
in political philosophy. The seventeenth century witnessed professions and
proclamations of democracy and natural rights on the floor of Parliament,
which have seldom been equalled in our halls of legislation. And in almost
every nation of Europe at the present day, — fortified as they are by conserva-
tive institutions and elements of stability, — opinions are prevalent, purposes
are cherished, aud efforts are organized, which, even in this democratic so-
ciety, whose radical tendencies are so widely feared, would be scouted and
scorned as the very ultraism of perilous and unprincipled speculation. Re-
gard for settled law, voluntary respect for its mandates, an unforced ac-
quiescence in its behests, an intelligent, conscientious subjection to the em-
bodied reason of the State, have obtained nowhere more than among us, at the

* See Macaulay's History of England, Chapter III.

AX ADDRESS. -177

present day. Great names hold sovereign sway over the hearts of our people.
Indeed, it is often made a ground of reproach that they surrendi-r their own
convictions of justice and of expediency to the authority of mm, living or
dead, in whom they have learned to confide. Examine the subject in what-
ever manner we may, if we will but examine the whole of it, and not look only
at those facts which fortify a preconceived opinion, we shall find that the
conservative element is still the predominant element of our political society.
No change is made, no departure from okl forms, however palpably de-
manded by the new structure and requirement of the time, is proposed, with-
out strenuous struggle and determined resistence.

The same fact may be traced with equal clearness in the religious move-
ments of the time. Conservatism is the ruling element in all our church
organizations. Luther's great reformation was the most thoroughly radical
movement of modern times. It was an assertion of the right of each indi-
vidual of the race to read the Bible for himself, and from it frame a religious
creed to meet the conscious wants of his own soul, and according to the
guiding light of his own conscience and judgment. Its essential spirit was
protestant. It denounced and threw off that gigantic and overshadowing
conservatism, which commanded the conscience to receive its faith from the
fixed and infallible past. It is not too much to say that this spirit has lost its
essential vigor; that the movement which began in radicalism has itself be-
come conservative. How many of the men of this present time really and
truly form their religious creed for themselves? How many of us are there
who do not receive it from some external source, — from some church organ-
ization, from the education of our childhood, from family tradition, from
social connection, or from some other of the manifold forms of conservative
power? The whole religious world stands marshalled into conservative or-
ganizations, — each claiming, with more or less modification, to be infallible,
and all requiring adherence to the fixed and immutable past, as the ba>is of
favor and of faith. No fortress was evermore closely guarded against ex-
ternal foes than are these enclosures of religious faith against heresies and
innovations. Not a door or window — not a tower or loop-hole — without
its special sentinel; and let any man, high or low, learned or unlearned,
breathe the faintest doubt, or give utterance to any conviction of his own
soul, to any new speculation in philosophy or metaphysics, which ma;.
seem to threaten any doctrine, or any practice of the established faith, and
sonorous blasts from the warder's trumpet will soon summon the enlisted
hosts to defence of their ancient and established ways. Tlu: wannest con-
troversies even of the present day arc waged by ecclesiastical conservatism
against dawning opinions which menace its peace, or call in question its in-
fallibility. I mention the fact, not to censure or complain of it, for I believe
it to be of good omen: but simply as an indication of the prevalence aud
power of the conservative element in the religious movements of the age.

Dangers to the social organizations of the time are widely apprehended
from the social radicalism which prevails. There is certainly a great deal of
clamor nowadays, — as there has been at intervals .since the world l>, ur:m,
about tiie false organizations of society, — about the unnatural relations
which obtain between the different classes which compose it, and about the
gigantic evils of which these are the fruitful source. Wo have reformers in

478 APPENDIX.

abundance, rampant for its reconstruction, eager to impress the world with
the opinion that everything is wrong, and equally eager to obtain for them-
selves the job of setting it right. The theories which many of thenf pro-
pound are certainly radical enough, and contradict plainly enough some of
the fundamental truths of philosophy and common sense. And yet, it would
be an error to mistake these for the sentiments or tendencies of the age, an
it would be a still greater error to distrust and condemn the age on their
account. A glance shows us,, that the latent conservatism of society ; that
reliance upon past wisdom and past experience which is inherent in the
mind, and which forms the balance-wheel of society, is quite sufficient for
any emergency which their promulgation may create. The slight extent to
which they have affected public sentiment in this country, urged and advo-
cated as they have been by able, earnest, and vigorous minds, — by men who
enjoy a rare degree of public confidence and of sway over the public mind, —
the slight hold they have taken upon the community, the steady and constant
certainty with which they have rebounded (so to speak) from the hard,
clear, common sense of the great masses of our population, affords decisive
evidence of the comparative groundlessness of the apprehension to which,
in many quarters, they have given rise.

Nearly all these schemes and theories embody something, in principle and
in practice, which is just and true, and which is somewhat in advance of that
which has hitherto obtained. This the natural growth of society and the age
will absorb into its own life, and from it form material for marked and sub-
stantial progress. The rest will die and fall away, making no impression
upon the public health, or creating at the worst only a local irritation, which
the lapse of time itself will cure. All these schemes, even the wildest of
them, are of goodly promise, inasmuch as they indicate a stretching toward
improvement. They evince a disposition and desire in some way to re-
move the evils which afflict the race; to carry man forward and to lift him
upward towards greater wisdom, greater virtue, and greater happiness than
he has yet enjoyed. It is impossible that the generous henrt should not sym-
pathize with the motive, however the intelligent mind may distrust the means,
b}- which its beneficent ends are sought to be attained.

We are liable to serious error, from various sources, in attempting to pro-
nounce judgment upon the characteristics, the tendencies, and the prospects
of our own country and our own age. The scholar, especially, when lie first
steps from the seclusion of his study, and looks out upon the field of active
life, brings feelings and a vision which unfit him, in a great degree, to form
an accurate estimate of the influences and agencies that are at work around
him. He has been studying the great movements which gave .shape and char-
acter to the nations of the ancient world. He has followed the steps of their
great leaders of action and opinion; he has pondered the words of their great
philosophers, and hung in rapture on the sentences of their orators and their
poets. He has traced, on the page of history, the great '-Mi-earn of ten-
dency"— the sweeping, continuous current of public action and public
thought — which gave the nations their peculiar form, and power to develop
their peculiar life. He sees in them nothing but what is great, heroic, and
of permanent and formative power. The currents and eddies of false opinion,
the small tricks and devices of evil men, the projects of ignorance and

AN ADDRESS. 479

the designs of fraud, have perished with their authors, and left no fruit be-
hind them. These things find no place in history. The student does not
come in contact with them, until he goes forth into the age in which he lives.
Then his cars are stunned with the din of discordant strife, the petty jar-
rings and commotions of the world around him, so that he fails to cat'-h that
lofty music of the motion of the time, which future history will alone pre-
serve. His eyes have been dazzled by the contemplation of unmixed excel-
lence, so that he cannot readily separate the gold from the dross in the mass
by which he is surrounded. Therefore, as in the past he sees only what is
good, and in the present mainly that which is evil, he falls into desponding
moods, and fears the world is going backward, and that he has lived too late.
The same error is likely to influence our minds in comparing our own coun-
try, and the agencies that constitute its social life, with those of other lauds.
We have a quick sensibility for the evils which seem to menace our prosper-
ity, and underrate the conservative elements which are inherent in our so-
ciet)f; while we attach undue weight to the outward buttresses by which
foreign nations seem to be defended. Thus, and through the influence of
these very natural mistakes, it is that American scholars are apt to speak
despondingly of the prospects of their country and their age; that they be-
come unreasonably timid concerning the influence of radical notions and rad-
ical efforts, and spend their strength, if they enter upon the labors of active
life at all, in fighting the shadows which they have themselves projected.

A closo scrutiny will afford ground for a more just and a more hopeful
judgment. We shall find that other ages have not been free from the vices
and the evils which afflict our own, while we have outgrown many that
belonged to an earlier time. We shall find that even those eras of the
world's history, which rise before us effulgent in the glory of their great
men and their great events were also darkened by gigantic evils which
escape our vision only because they are concealed in the blaze which makes
their age illustrious. We shall find, if we will embrace time enough and
facts enough for a just induction, and purge our minds of the preconceive, d
opinions which distort the justice of its judgments, that public morality has
kept pace with public intelligence; that the public conscience is more sen-
sitive, and lias greater sway ; that regard for justice and the general good
lias wider control over the masses of every community now, than in days
which we are accustomed to regard as purer and happier and nobler than
those in which we live. When we wander in the groves where Plato taught
"divine philosophy," and rejoice in the fruitful freshness of their sound
shade, and listen to those strains that rise and melt into the sublime harmo-
nics of the Christian faith, let us not confound this high melody with the
age whose dull, cold ear it pierced, or forget the reception which its >
met from the spirit which ruled the councils, and stumped the chara
the time. We I ok to the age of the English Kli/.abeih witn wonder, not
unmixed with envy, at its transcendent displays of intellectual p.>\\er. But
how often are we compelled in reading even Shakespeare, the pu
as the greatest of its poets, to excuse his gro>sness and his vice by imputing
them to the age in which he lived, — to the general gro»ne-s of the time
whose common nir he breathed, and whoso polluting spirit even his nobler
nature could not wholly escape ! We study with delight the high thoughts

480 APPENDIX.

of the heroic Milton and the learned Sydney, and envy the age which had
them for its teachers and its guides ; while we forget that they became mar-
tyrs of the generation which they sought to serve, and that in our own
country and our own time alone have their principles been embodied in
institutions, and made the basis of a national life. We regret the land and
the age which had Bacon for its Lord Chancellor, and Coke for its King's
Attorney, and Jeremy Taylor for its Chaplain, and which sends over all com-
ing time the guiding light of transcendent genius in law, in philosophy, in
poetry, and religion; but we forget that the age in which they lived hated
their nobleness, and loved them only as they were subservient to its base-
ness ; that their vices challenged the favor they enjoyed, while their virtues
were bequeathed to the " times succeeding." We forget the savage cruelty
of an age whose courts were converted into shambles, — whose high places
were the guerdon of corruption, or the reward of flattery; when public
justice was the tool of private malice ; when piracy was heroism ; when
religion was a jest at court, and a nightmare to the masses ; when men like
Essex, and Raleigh, and Bacon, could be hunted by lawyers like Coke, with
an ingenuity and a steel-hardened malignity that might challenge the rivalry of
fiends, to prison, to disgrace, to torture, and to death ; and when the applause
of society was reserved for the vices, and its hatred for the virtues, which have
since combined to make the age illustrious. We look regretfully back to
the time which witnessed the birth of the Novum Organum ; but we forget
that the general sentiment of the age was expressed by the sneering com-
ment of the king that, " like the peace of God it passed all understand-
ing;" and by the equally contemptuous judgment of him who is since re-
vered as the Father of the Common Law, —

" It deserveth not to be read in schools,
But to be freighted in the ship of fools." *

We cannot doubt, loudly as some may deplore the degeneracy of our own
times, that Shakespeare is more read and better understood; that Milton
finds that fit audience which he sought for his immortal song; that Bacon
meets that just judgment for which he appealed to coming ages from his
own, — in our age rather than those in which they lived. No one can look
beyond the brilliant names which "shine aloft like stars," and glorify the
darkness through which they gleam, and read the history of their daily life,
trace the manners and the morals of their society, follow the doings of courts,
the habits of the people, the modes and practices that obtained in all circles
and which thus gave character to the age, without feeling that, in all these
respects, the race has made substantial progress; that public intelligence
and public morals have alike advanced; and that we may, with no more than
a just and proper exultation in the felicities of our own fortune, claim for
our own age at least a good degree of that superiority over the past, which
the lapse of time, under the guiding power of God, should render natural
and certain. It is not too much to say, despite the opposite opinions which
many of our best men entertain, that in this country, even in politics, virtue

* See Montague's Life of Lord Bacon.

AN ADDRESS. 481

is essential to success ; that nothing is more sure to destroy a public man in
public favor than reputed immorality; that our courts of justice are free from
corruption; that our electrms kn )\v nothing of that open Venality which
disgraces those of England ; that good faith, adherence to constitutional
engagements, obedience to law, devotion to public justice, public morals and
the public good, characterize our political societies, to a greater degree than
those of any other age or country. These are the marks by which we j mitre
of social progress ; and they seem to me fully to warrant that confidence in
advances already made, that sympathy with the tendency of the times, that
hopefulness and cheerful courage, without which all effort for the improve-
ment of society must be spiritless, uncongenial, and unproductive. And upon
a point on which some of our wisest thinkers — men of loftiest spirit and
most noble aims — have held opinions so opposite to that which I have ven-
tured to express, I am glad to avail myself of authority so good as that
of Dr. Arnold, — at once a scholar and a worker; one who was a student of
the past in order the more effectually to serve the present; one whose life
furnishes proof and illustrations of the poetical views of the scholar's rela-
tions and duties, which I have endeavored to present.

" It is very well," he says, " that we should not swim with the stream of
public opinion; places like this are exceedingly valuable as temples where an
older truth is still worshipped which else might be forgotten; and some car-
icature of our proper business must ofttimes be tolerated, for such is the
tendency of humanity. But still, if we make it our glory to run exactly
counter to the general opinions of our age, making distance from them the
measure of truth, we shall at once destroy our usefulness and our real re-
spectability.

"And to believe seriously that the movement of the last three centuri*
been a degeneracy; that the middle ages were wiser, or better, or happier
than our own, seeing truth more clearly, and serving God more faithfully;
would be an error so extravagant that no amount of prejudice could excuse
us for entertaining it." *

There is another error by which we are betrayed into undue alarm as to
the effect of the radical movements of the time : we make too little allow-
ance for \\\c flexibility of society. The very language we employ in speaking
of it indicates the nature and the extent of the mistake. We look upon
society as a framework — as a construction, in which every part has soni"
mechanical dependence upon the rest, and no part of which can, therefore,
bo disturbed without danger of bringing the whole to the ground. Any
change in any portion of the structure is deprecated as ruin to the whole.
Any modification of the laws of property; any change in tin- political or
social relat.ions of different cia-^es; any rx'en*jon of the riuht of suffrage:
any lowering of the requisitions for citi/.enship ; anything which touches,
however slightly, any of the pillars of this social framework, is regard' >1
with alarm as threatening the overthrow of the whole fabric. Rut this view
is altogether false. Society is no such mechanical contrivance
house of cards to he overthrown by deranging any of Its combinations. It
Is a living growth ; and it has all the llexiMlity. and all the tenacity of life,

* Lectures on History, vii. 337.
81

482 APPENDIX.

which belong to vital organisms. In its origin, the result of a vital necessity,
its preservation is insured by the same necessity. As its life inheres in
every part of its organic structure, so are the processes of life continually
going on in every part, repairing its injuries, healing its wounds, and coun-
teracting whatever threatens, from within or without, to do it essential harm.
In every department of nature, in vegetable and in animal life, we see evi-
dence of this incessant, recreative energy. Wound the trunk of a tree, and
all its vital energy is at once at work to repair the loss. In some foqns of
animal life, limbs cut off are replaced by new ones; nay, the animal himself
divided gives birth to two. A similar vis vital inheres in the social existence,
repairing its losses, throwing off its poisonous impurities, and impelling it
forward, in spite of injury and even of decay, into new developments, and
more perfect forms. The destruction of human society is simply impossible.
The natural tendency towards despotism, political and social, despotism of
rulers, of laws, or of conservative usages and customs, is always stronger
than the tendency to anarchy. And any excess of radicalism is sure to be
thrown off, and even to react, by the natural course of social growth, by
the natural strength and self-protecting power of the social life. Philoso-
phers have pondered much upon the origin of human society. It has seemed
impossible to account for the construction of so goodly a fabric; to under-
stand how men, enjoying individual freedom, masters entirely of their own
actions, should have ever bound themselves so strongly by social bonds.
One fact should teach them that society does not depend upon human will.
No instance has ever yet been known in which society was destroyed, except
by the extermination or the dispersion of its members. History tells us of
many instances in which anarchy has done its utmost to effect its overthrow;
but, after its strength has been spent, society has risen from its sweeping
force, and, though deep " scars of thunder" might tell of the conflict, it has
sprung forward in its upward growth with new life and redoubled vigor.
The Roman Empire seemed to have been swept from existence, and society
to have perished, by the devastating hordes of northern barbarians ; but a
new and a fairer life sprung up even in their footsteps, and when the storm
had passed, the world saw that an old and decaying social life had simply
been replaced by one of more vigor, and better adapted to the wants and
necessities of the advancing time. Radicalism and anarchy seemed to have
done their worst, when they destroyed a throne, murdered those who had
sat upon it, guillotined whole classes of society, made respectability a crime,
and enthroned the most brutal and ferocious of human passions in the place
of settled law. Yet out of the very heart of this dreadful lawlessness,
which seemed to shut hope from French society forever, came forth a new
social and political life, empowered by greater vigor and a more intense
vitality; and straightway a new and a better organism took the place of
that which hud perished forever.

The law of social growth is thus always from the lower to the higher —
from that which is good to that which is better. And it will work out these
bcnen'ccnt results against obstacles and influences which often seem to
threaten its destruction. The radical movements which, at the present day,
give alarm to many thoughtful minds, will seem of much less importance
when thus considered in the light of this fundamental law of social life and

AX ADDRESS. 483

growth. They may be injurious, and may demand the efforts of wise and
good men to prevent them from doing mischief. But they cannot destroy, or
essentially injure, the great fabric of society. Mainly, moreover, in my judg-
ment, they are only indications and resultsof that superabundant activity and
energy which characterize the life and growth of our new society. What
they need, therefore, is not suppression, but guidance ; and this it is the pecu-
liar province of the scholar to furnish. All these strivings of reformers;
all those strong impulses towards improvement which mark the day, are in-
dicative of life, of energy, of power, which may be made to promote the well-
being of the society which they seem to injure and to menace. Their great
fault is their blindness — their ignorance. They set at defiance established
principles; they proceed in ignorance and disregard of laws as fundamental
and as irreversible as that of gravitation. It is the scholar's duty to enlighten
them; to seize hold upon them, and by his greater wisdom, his wider knowl-
edge, his clearer, juster, and completer insight, to wield them for the
advancement and improvement of society. He must make the tendency of
the age, not his enemy or his discouragement, but his ally and his hope.
He must make it subordinate to his higher and truer purposes, and compel it
to work out those results which his clearer judgment sees to be essential to
the welfare of his race.

GENTLEMEN, — I feel that I have been rash and imprudent in presenting
for your judgment views upon so many and so important topics, formed not
in the calm retirement most favorable to just thought, but in tue midst of the
severe and incessant labors of active life. They are in fact, to some extent,
the result of the observation and experience which that life has afforded me.
I have been led to feel keenly and sensibly the wants of the time, and my
thoughts naturally turn to American scholars as qualified and compelled to
meet them. It is our fortune, gentlemen, to live in the most stirring age of
the world, and in the bosom of American society. That fortune shapes our
destiny, and dictates our duty. It is for us as scholars, as educated men, as
men who ought to be, from our advantages and our discipline, fitted to be
captains and guides in the great movement of civilization and improvement,
— it is for us to go down upon the plain, carrying thither the insight, the
courage, and the power we have acquired from communion with the high
thoughts and the great deeds of the noblest men, and the heroic times of the
world's history, and to lend these struggling hosts in the great war against
Ignorance, misery, and guilt, which the tendency of the times compels them
to wage. If they are ignorant and blind, it is for us to enlighten and guide
them. If they are vicious and base, it is for us to reform their ways and
elevate their aims. If they are rushing madly forward in pursuit of their
'end. blindly demolishing the good and the true as well as the false, it
i< for us to brini; them up upon the high grounds of wisdom and of pru-
dence, and to direct to worthy ends the energies which they wield. Cole-
ridge has made the remark that every man who thinks at all is a radical
at twenty, and a conservative at thirty; and the Judgment was justified
by his owrt experience. At the outset of life he based all his political
theories upon the abstract doctrine of human rights ; as he grew older, he
founded them all upon, the innate depravity of the human heart. His opin-

484 APPENDIX.

ions thus oscillated between two extremes, as do, unfortunately, those of
most men who think deeply and feel profoundly. But this is not the course
of prudence ; this is not the way to form opinions, nor is it the way to
exert a healthful influence upon the world around us. Unless I am much mis-
taken, the scholar who carries into the world a clear vision and a sound
judgment, who has penetrated the secret life of the past, and can read by
its light the characters of the present; who feels that as hours are but a
small part of the life of an individual, so years afford no criterion of the
progress and d'.-stiny of nations, — will see that in either extreme lurks essen-
tial error which must be fatal to the highest usefulness. He will see that
the science of government and society is an experimental, and not an absolute,
science ; that there can be no such thing as a universal form of government,
founded upon abstract principles, and adapted to all stages of national life ;
but that, in every particular case, the actual, efficient, living energies of the
time must be guided and used for the attainment of the best results. He
will learn that as science, applied to outward life, and using the principles
and the powers of nature, has carried external civilization forward with
transcendent rapidity, so social progress must be sought by a similar mas-
terful seizure and guidance of the active energies which constitute the
vitality and the tendency of the time. He will come to regard Eadicalism
and Conservatism as opposites indeed, but still as necessary opposites to the
health and permanent equilibrium of society. He will see that if the one
should obtain the entire ascendency which it seeks, all the checks and re-
straints of wholesome law would be destroyed, and social life would plunge
forward, by the very excess of its own vitality, into catastrophes from
which a new creation could alone restore it; and that the sole predominance
of the other would stop the life-current of society, paralyze its energies, and
render advance and improvement forever impossible. The life of society is,
like the life of man, like the law of all nature, dependent upon correlative,
mutually counteracting forces. There is an all-pervading law which would
bring everything to the centre, — to a stand-still ; and an opposite law which
would throw everything into endless motion from the centre. It is by the
harmonious counteraction of these great laws that the universe is upheld;
and when either shall obtain the ascendency chaos will have come again. So
is it with society. It carries in its bosom a latent conservatism, strong
even in the breast of the most radical, drawn from a thousand sources,
nurtured by the family, the church, and the state; strengthened by the in-
dolence, the force of habit, inherent in all, and operating incessantly, noise-
lessly, and irresistibly for the preservation and safety of the world. Opposed
to it is the radical movement, — not peculiar to our time, but always found
where humanity has any vital vigor, and intellect any power. It is this
which carries society forward; and it is, therefore, through this, and by
this, that he must work who would do aught to advance the welfare of the
human race.

Let us, then, when we go forth from these retired and serene heights, where
the world's warfare reaches us only like the dim murmur of a far-off sea ;
when we descend into the dust, and the heat, and the noise of its strife, let
us go as to the spot where God has appointed our work. Let us remember
that if this age and this society are not better for our existence ; if our

AN ADDRESS. 485

fellow-men arc not wiser, and better, and happier, because we have lived and
labored with them; if we do not infuse into the political and social activi-
ties of the time something of the healthful and the beneficent influence
which our studies ought to have conferred upon us, — we shall have been schol-
ars in vain; and scholarship will bear the curse of our unftuitfulncss. Ours
is the task to raise what is low, to illumine what is dark, to guide the
blind, hope and help to all men, as our endowments may enable us to do.
Not for ourselves, nor for our selfish purposes, or equally selfish pleasures;
not for scholarship, or the pride of knowledge, have we received the culture
and discipline which make us scholars. We must use the power thus ac-
quired, for the upbuilding and the improvement of the society in which our
lot is cast. We must put our hands to the great work of social progress,
and give all the aid of our utmost strength to the enlightenment and the ad-
vancement of our fellow-men.

Thus, and thus only, can we discharge the duties which every AMERICAN
SCHOLAR owes to AMERICAN SOCIETY.

APPENDIX F.

A PILOT-BOAT OCEAN VOYAGE IN SEAKCH OF NEWS.

[THE voyage of the little pilot-boat William J. Homer, of the New York
pilot fleet, across the Atlantic, was made in the early part of the year 1846.
The following particulars are taken from the contemporaneous narrative
mentioned in the text] : —

From the New- Yorker, April 18, 1846.

" Of the many excitements suffered and enjoyed in New York during the
past twelve months, few have given rise to more mystery, speculation, curi-
osity, anxiety, gossip, wonder, and astonishment, than the voyage of the
pilot-boat William J. Romer across the Atlantic. And this is by no means
surprising. The bare idea of such a tiny Queen Mab's barque as this start-
ing off on a trip over the Atlantic in the midst of winter, was in itself well
calculated to excite curiosity and strongly enlist public sympathy. Such a
daring enterprise, we venture to assert, cannot be found in all the records of
navigation; and the gallant and dauntless voyagers who were engaged in it
have purchased immortality at the expense of a few weeks of suffering and
privation, and as the just reward of their courage and perseverance. The
Mysterious Clipper having returned safely into port after many had almost
given her up as lost, and thus become as it were permanently identified with
the history of the times, we have thought that a full and complete account
of her voyage, compijed carefully from her log, and the notes of The Man in
the Glazed Cap, would be an acceptable offering to the public.

" No sooner had the pilot-boat got her nose out of the smell of the land than
it came on to blow, as if old Neptune had invoked JEolus to punish this dar-
ing little craft for so boldly adventuring out to sea. At six o'clock they
were obliged to take one bonnet off the jib, two-reef the mainsail, and take
in the square-sail altogether. In the course of the evening, however, the
wind moderated a little, and both reefs were directly turned out of the main-
sail, and before midnight the gaff-topsail was set — the little clipper sing-
ing over the singing waters at the comfortable rate of twelve knots.

" The weather was quite cold, and the vessel, being cut unusually low in
the bulwarks, was covered with spray created by her own course, and which
froze as it fell upon deck, and lay piled about the vessel like an amateur snow-
storm, and tipped the ropes and rigging with frosty feathers.

"At half-past eight on the twelfth, the wind came strong out of the east,
and Captain McGuire tacked to the southward and eastward, two-reefed the
mainsail, unbonneted the jib, and finally hauled it down and stowed it — low-

486

A PILOT-BOAT OCEAN VOYAGE. J 7

ered the foresail, set the storm staysail, and put a balance-reef In the main-
sail. The wind now blew a gale, accompanied by rain, snow, and hail, and
the sleepless discomforts of the voyagers, stripped of romance and reduced
to the most practical terms of reality, commenced in e:iriu-.-t.

" The next day the gale continued, the wind having skulked round by the
way of Hudson's Bay into the north-west, and spitting out bitter snow-
squalls. The wind constantly increased, and the waves ran in mountains.
The vessel now shipped a tremendous sea, which swept over her deck and
carried away the binnacle. One after another the sails were taken in, and
the little craft brought to under the storm-staysail, the wind blowing a per-
fect hurricane, and all hands expecting every moment to be their last. AH
this and the next day they were forced to lie by, the gale not having
moderated in any perceptible degree. The next day at three o'clock in the
afternoon the wind subsided a little, and the vessel was put upon her course.

" The next day, however, a tremendous gale came on from the south-south-
east, hauling round to the west-north-west, and they were obliged to lid to
again in a heavy cross sea, under a double-reefed foresail. This time the
gale was accompanied with thunder and lightning, rain, hail, and snow, —
a choice variety.

" On the eighteenth the gale still continued, and the ^clipper (which had
again been put on her course) shipped a heavy sea, which carried away a
portion of the cockpit bench. The next day they were obliged to luff to,
there being a tremendous gale now blowing, with a heavy sea, and plenty of
thunder and lightning, rain, snow, and hail. The storm now went on hourly
increasing, until the next day, when it again claimed the name of a hurricane,
with a tremendous sea running. Lay to all day and part of the next, and
made a dredge by lashing two spars together — the vessel making bad
weather of it, and expecting to lose the foresail every moment.

" On the twenty-second the weather was thick and heavy, the wind strong,
and a tremendous sea running. At half-past eleven, however, the sky
cleared, the captain was lashed to the mainmast and succeeded in taking an
observation, — latitude 43° 23'. This was the first observation they had had
in several days.

" On the twentj'-third the weather continued very heavy, and the clipper
passed a barque bearing north, under close-reefed topsail, with her head to
the westward. She hove to for six hours to-day, but resumed her course in
the evening, and kept on through the next day, although there was a heavy
gale blowing and a sea running with which the clipper found it almost im-
possible to contend. On the next day the captain was obliged again to
heave to; and at half-past seven in the evening a squall from the north-we-t
struck the vessel and buried her to her hatches — where she remained for ten
minutes, no one knowing whether she would right or go down.

"At length she righted, shipping a sea which swept the deck fore and aft,
one man narrowly escaping being washed overboard. At half- past eight
o'clock the wind had somewhat moderated, and the clipper (Captain >!••('• iiire
being anxious to get to the eastward) wore round and kept on her conr<e.
But in ten minutes a heavy sea pooped her, and nearlv washed the man at the
helm overboard. For several minutes after she broached to, all w:i-
posed to be lost; but fortunately the vessel was brought to, and lay wi

488 APPENDIX.

head to the wind; every sea making a clear breach over her, and the sky
furiously pouring out wind and rain.

" The next clay and the next (twenty-sixth and twenty-seventh) the gale
continued with unabated violence, and at length increased to a perfect hur-
ricane, with the vessel laboring very heavily. The dredge was now hove
overboard, and a small piece of the storm staysail hoisted to bring her
round to the wind. But the hawser parted, losing sixty fathoms of hawser,
with squaresail boom and yards and two pigs of iron.

"While lying to during these protracted and unparalleled tempests, the
hatches of the Eoraer were obliged to be kept constantly closed; the crew
and passengers were confined in the little cabin, and the wild seas leaping
and lashing themselves on deck, like infuriated animals, while the hurricane
roared, and shrieked, and howled among the cordage and over the raging
sea, like the prophetic voice of a dire destiny, which came at once to warn
and destroy. For three days and three nights, at one time, all were thus
confined below, not knowing, at every sharp dip of the little boat into the
tremendous gulf between the mountain seas, whether she was to struggle up
again to the air, or sink farther and farther down until she reached, with her
living freight, those dreary depths of mid-ocean where float suspended so
many ghastly and imperishable wrecks of things passed away forever from
the knowledge and the memory of man.

" 'Along the dark and ruffled waters fled
The straining boat. A whirlwind swept it on
With fierce gusts and precipitating force;
Through the white ridges of the chafed sea,
The waves arose. Higher and higher still
Their fierce necks writhed beneath the tempest's scourge,
Like serpents struggling in a vulture's grasp.'

"And fearful and long protracted was the struggle between that little boat
and the cool and determined skill of those who directed it, and the mighty
ocean, lashed into its most magnificent grandeur by the torturing tempest.
Often did hope quite abandon them, yet no cheek blanched with fear. Some-
times the captain or the mate would creep to the companion-way, cautiously
open the hatch a little way, and look out to see the weather; watching the
coming seas, as they tumbled their shapeless mountain masses towards the
little vessel, and instantly closing the hatch as she buried her bows in the
wave, which passed over her deck with a furious trample, making the vcs>t-l
shudder through every timber. One great fear was, that if she escaped
being swamped, her deck would be broken in by these tremendous seas ; and
in that case she would have filled and gone down ere the luckless voyagers
had got a last glance at the sky.

" But the glorious little clipper lived through all, and on the afternoon of
the twenty-seventh resumed her course to the eastward, skimming the dark
waters like a bird. On the first of March she passed and spoke the ship St.
Patrick, from Liverpool for New York, and on the fourth, for the first time
during the voyage, a dry spot teas visible on the main deck. At half-past four
P.M., on the sixth, she made the Skelley Rocks, with two lights bearing

A PILOT-BOAT OCEAX VOYAGE. 489

i
north-east by cast, distant eighteen miles. At half-past eleven, P.M., made

Cape Clear, light bearing north-north-east, distant sixteen miles.

" At nine o'clock the next morning a pilot-boat came aloiig-iile and a pilot
was bargained for to tak>- the Komer into Cork. A line was thrown from the
Irish boat to the Homer, in the centre of which, In a tigh' .is se-

curely fastened the pilot, who was then thrown into the sea, his friends
keeping fast hold of the other end of the line. lie was now hauled on board
the Uomcr; and jumping on deck with the water dripping from him in
streams, he- made a single dash for the helm, singing out in the most indiffer-
ent manner imaginable, 'Port your helm!' On being asked by the captain
if he would take something to prevent his catching cold, he pulled out a
Father Mat he w Temperance Medal, which he said, with a smile, was a sure
preventive against taking cold.

" Arrived at Cork, the Man in the Glazed Cap started directly for Liverpool,
whence he returned on the twelfth, and at noon on the next day the clipper
got under way and started for home. In the meanwhile, however, an inci-
dent occurred on board the clipper which must not be omitted. On the
eighth, while lying at Cork waiting the return of the messenger from Liver-
pool, the first officer of II. M. ship the Crocodile was sent on board by the
admiral, with a request to Captain McGuire to haul doicn the American Flmj .'
Suffice it to say that this strange request was peremptorily refused by Cap-
tain McGuire, and the officer took his departure. About three-quarters of an
hour afterwards lie returned with a very polite apology, stating that the
admiral, from the smallness of his vessel, had taken Captain McGuire's
clipper to be an English pilot-boat. This explanation was of course suffi-
cient, and we are happy to state that the gun on Admiral McGuire's vessel
was not required to be used, and the Starry Pennant remained unruffled as
his temper.

" On leaving Cork Harbor, the Homer had the pleasure of outsailing the
Irish pilot-boat which started with her, as well as of leaving several other
vessels far behind her. She arrived home, as Is already known, on the
morning of the eleventh inst., irith Jive days' later foreign intelligence, and
with all on board in capital spirits and much improved in appearance by the
voyage. It must be remembered that the clipper, in returning home, ran to
the southward in search of smooth water, and thus made a thousand miles
more of way than the packets which sailed at the same time. The fact about
the relative speed of the pilot-boat and our best packets seems to be this:
With a smooth sea and a good breeze, the pilot-boat can show anything that
sails a clean pair of heels ; but in rough weather and heavy seas the boat
must lie to, while the ship cracks on in safety. On the voyage out, the time
consumed by the Romer in lying to was equal to nine days and nights; and
when this is deducted from her running time, we find that the Romer, in
favorable weather, can make the trip either way in fifteen days. Capt.
McGuire is an experienced and skilful navigator. He is of opinion that he
can cross the Atlantic with the Romer, in all ordinary seasons, even in the
winter, in less time than is required by any of the packet-ships.

"It is proper to add, in conclusion, that the ulterior objects of this myste-
rious voyage have never been made public.

••An article appears on our inside to-day which to some extent connects the

490 APPENDIX.

voyage with Newspaper Enterprise, but the objects appear not to be fully
disclosed.

"The following is a list of the passengers, officers, and crew of this noble
little craft, on her late voyage : —

' PASSENGERS.

MONROE F. GALE, WILLIAM BROGAN.

OFFICERS, ETC.

Captain JAMES McGuiRE.

First Mate (one of the owners), . . JAMES J. WILKIE,
Second Mate, " " " . . . JAMES CONNER,
Steward and Cook, MARSHALL GREEN.

SEAMEN.

JAMES B. JOHNSON, GEORGE COLTON,

JAMES MCLEISLIH, EDWARD FRYER."

INDEX.

INDEX,

ADDRESS, the Pittsburg, 148.

the Philadelphia, 171.
Advertising the Ledger, 346.

eflects of, 346.

agencies, 348.

American "Republican, the, 104.
Andrews, George II., 122, 138.
Angcll, President, 24.
Archdeacon, English, on newspapers,
356.

Arctic, the steamer, loss of, 230.

how the Times had news of,

231.
George II. Burns' narrative,

232.

Associated Press, the, 36, 326.
plan of, 327.
rivals of, 328.

BACON, E. M., 352.

Rev. Leonard, 343.
Balcom, Ransom, 173.
Baltimore Convention, 120.
Barnard, Kev. John, 16.
Beecher, Rev. Henry Ward, on H. J.

Raymond, 194.
euloyy on Henry J. Ray-
mond, 215.

and the Independent, 343.
Bennett, James Gordon, 37.

establishing the Herald, 37.
and Beach, uniting against

Greeley, 39.
personalities of, 43.
announcement of his mar-
riage, 11.

beaten at his own game, 230.
caricatured by the Times,

251.

anil tin- Herald in 1870, 352.
Hiiiclow. .John, M4S. :;:..'.
I'.M-irs. William G., 348.
Bohemian trick, i>.">0.
club, 330.

papers — See "Newspa-
pers."

Bonner, Robert, 346.
Bores, newspaper, 266.
Bowen, Henry C-, 343.
Brick Church", old, demolished, 154.
Briirgs, Charles F., 144.
Bright, Rev. Edward, 344.
Brisbane, Albert, and Horace Gree-
ley, 54, 55.
on Fourier, 55.
Brockway, Clark, 15.

Lavinia, 15.
Brougham, John, 341.
Bruce, Benjamin F., 121.
Brvant, William C., reminiscences
by, 37.

to poets and poetesses, 268.

and the Evening Post, 848.

reminiscences bv, 349.

and the Central Park, 349.

challenged, 351.
Buchanan, .James. 150.
Buckle on the 1'rcxs, 50.
Biiinly. Jonas M., :',48.
F>imM t, Charles, 104.
Butler, Benj. F.. loiter from, 256.

CAIU.K excitement in 1858, 254.
Canals, II. .1. Raymond on, 83.

the Nine Million bill, 83.
Charivari, Paris, 341.

Chase, Luclen B., 150.

Chikls, Geoi-c \V.. i.-,rt.
Circulation of New York newspapers,
353.

494

INDEX.

Clark, Myron IT., 144.

Clay, Henry, and H. J. Raymond, 26,

27.

Clubs. Press, 328.
Coleman, William, 348, 350.
Comic journalism, 341.
Commercial Advertiser, 51, 52, -9*7,

348.

Commonwealth, Evening, 348.
Communism — See " Socialism."
Convention, Baltimore, 120.

Henry J. Raymond in,

120.

Republican, at Pitts-
burg, 147.
Philadelphia, 170.

Correspondents, war, 255.

letter of Gen. Butler

to, 256.
Courier and Enquirer, 35, 38.

H. J. Raymond in, 35, 38.
twenty years ago, 52.
socialist controversy with

the Tribune, 58, 76.
H. J. Raymond buying stock

iu, 82.

withdrawal of H. J. Ray-
mond from, 86, 87.
Craig, D. H.. 327.
Crouuse, L. L., 353.
Cuba, the Times on, in, 1851, 99.
Curtis, Geo. W.,.on Jenkins, 260.

DANA, Charles A., 194, 195.
I)e Cordova, R. J., 144.
Democrat, New York, 347.

Duels between journalists, 36.
Duelling, Evening Post on, 349, 351.
Dutch papers — See " Newspapers."

EDITORS — See " Journalism."
Evening Journal, Albany, 88, 318.
Evening Mail, 347, 348.
Evening papers, circulation of, 347.
Evening Post, New York, in 1801,

37.
index expurgatorius

of, 264.
on the Roorback

hoax, 319.
established, 347.

Evening Post, history of, 51, 348,

350.

on duelling, 349.
and the Central Park,

349.

See "Bryant, Wil-
liam C."

Express, New York, 52, 348.
Evangelist, New York, 344.
Examiner and Chronicle, 344.

FEATHERSTONHAUGH — S^e " Roor-
back."
Field, Rev. Henry M., on Henry J.

Raymond, 227.
editor of Evangelist, 344.
Fillmore, Millard, 121, 122.

candidacy of, in 1856, 150.

Foreign newspapers in the United

States, 335.

Fourierism — see " Socialism."
Freedman's Bureau bill, 174.
Fremont, John C., 150.
French papers — see " Newspapers."
Future, the, 54.

of journalism, 357, 358.

GALE, Monroe F., 40.

pilot-boat voyage to Europe,

41.

Garrison, William Lloyd, 147.
" Gates Ajar," the, 227, 228.
German papers — see "Newspapers."
Godkin, E. L., 144, 221.
(i od win, Parke, 54,348.
Greelcy, Horace, 28, 29.

employing H. J. Raymond,
21), 30. "

Greeley, Horace, establishing the

Tribune, 30, 32, 38.
tribute to H. J. Raymond, 32.
error of, corrected, 32.
Visit to H. J. Raymond, 33.
left by H. J. Raymond, 35.
battle with Bennett and

Beach, 39.

receiving election news, 39.
reply to J. W. Webb, 42, 43.
and the Irish, 45.

INDEX.

495

Greeley, Horace, reflections on Trib-
une lire, 40.

and Albert Brisbane, 54,55.

on the socialist controv>
54.

on the rights of labor, .">.

discussion on socialism

with IT. J. Raymond,

68-70.
on political course of Henry

J. Raymond. I'.'o.
and the Tribune iu 1870, 351.
Griswold, Rufus W., 30.

II.vT.riXK. diaries G., 195, 345.
Harbinger, the, 54.
Harrison campaign, 28.
Henderson, Isaac, 348.
Hennessey, Michael, 107. 352.
Herald, New York, 37, 38.

former style of, 52.

hatred of'the Times, 91.

present office of, 156.

on the death of Ilenry J.
Raymond, 212.

injustice of, 214.

Herald, New York, caricatured by
the Times, 251.

in 1870, 352.
Hoaxes, newspaper, 44, 273.

the Moon, 273.

the Roorback, 317.

the Lincoln Proclamation,

319.

Hyacinthe, Father, 2(50.
Home Journal, 347.
Howe, Timothy O., 348.
Hurlbut, William H., 144.

ILLUSTRATED papers, 345.
Imperialist, the, 347.
Independent, the, 342.

and Mr. Beecher, 343.
Index Expurgatorius, 264.

Ireland, revolt in, in 1848, 45.
Italy, campaign in — See " Raymond,

Henry J.," and " Mincio, elbows

of,"
Italian papers — See "Newspapers."

JKNKIXS, romances of, 258, 259.

Geo. W. Curtis on, 260.
Jennings, L. J., 352.
Jewish papers, 344.
John Donkey, 341.
Johnson, Andrew, 168, 169, 170, 174.

Oliver, 343.

Jones, George, and Henry J. Ray-
mond, 88.
in the Times, 91.
as Henry J. Raymond's part-
ner, 1!>:;.
sketch of, 193.

fulfilling requests of Henry J.
Raymond, L'L'i'.

responsible head of the Times,

3f>2.
Journal of Commerce, 38, 51, 52.

Journalism in New York. 36.

easy stvle of, before 1840,

:',!•., 87.
duels and horse whippings,

::•;.
changes of ten years, 47.

periods in, 49.
Macanlay on old, 49.
Buckle on modern, 50.
printer following pioneer,
60.

Journalism, growth of, 50, 51.

old papers dead, 38, 51.

twenty years ago, 62, 53.

the Times a remedy, 63.

socialistic element iu, 53.

old newspaper offices, 155.

Henry J. Raymond's ideas
of* 284.

war correspondents, 255.

reporters, LV>7.

Jenkins in, 258, 260.

precision in, 263.

newspaper bores. 266.

newspaper ho.-.

the press of to-day, 323.

changes in, 324.

catholic tone of, 321.

profits of.

organization of a newspa-
per otlice.

prices of ne wspapers, 330.

number of new-papers in
York, 330.

comic, 341.

political, 340.

religions. :;u.

impersonal, 310, .Til.

W. C. Bryant on old style
of, 849.

496

INDEX.

Journalism, circulation of newspapers,

353.
technical education in,

355.
ami General Lee's college,

355.

Journalism, Thoreau on newspapers,

356.
an English archdeacon on,

35G.

pro/its of, 356.
old and new, 357.
future of, 357, 358.

KANSAS feud, the, 147.
Kladderadatsch, 341.
Kossuth, Louis, arrival of, 109.
reception of, 109.

Kossuth, and Henry J. Raymond, 110.
municipal banquet to, 110.
press dinner to. 114.
See " Raymond, Henry J."

LARDNER, Dr. Dyonysius, 33.
Leavitt, Rev. Joshua, 343.
Ledger, Philadelphia, 156.

New York, 346.

Lee, General, and journalism, 355.
Leech, Charlotte, 17.
Legislature, New York — See " Ray-
mond, Henry J."
address drawn by H. J.

Raymond, 83.
Leggett, William, 348.
Letters — See " Raymond, Henry J."
Lima, village of, 14.

Raymond homestead in, 14.
school-house in, 17.

Lima, educational facilities enlarged,

18.
Genesee Wesleyan Seminary

in, 18, 19.
Lincoln proclamation, forged, 319,

320.
and the New York press,

320.
Lobby, Congressional, and the Times,

105.
Locke, Richard Adams, and the Moon

hoax, 273.
London Times, 340.

Pundh, etc., 341.

MACAULAY on old newspapers, 49.
Madden, Senator E. M., 145.
Magazines in New York, 334.
Mann, Alexander, 19, 25.
Mansfield, E. D., 25.
Marsh, Edward W., 29.
McDonald, Ranald, 352.
McElrath, Thomas, 34, 39, 46.
Meagher, Thomas Francis, 248.
Methodist papers, 344.

Mill, John Stuart, 229.
Miucio, elbows of the, 238, 243.

two versions of, 244.
Mitchel, John, 344.
Moon hoax, the, 273.
Moore, Judge John, 139.
Morris, George P., 347.
Morgan, Christopher, 91.

E. B.,91.
Mrs. Grundy, 341.

NATION, the, 345.

News, early dilliculties of gathering,

39.
present method of procuring,

32G.

New York, 347, 348.
Newspapers, number of, in New

York, 330.

in foreign languages
in the United States,
335.

political, 340.
comic, 341.

Newspapers, religious, 341.
literary, 345.
Sunday, 345.
illustrated, 345.
See "Journalism, "and

" Reporters."
New York, western, in 1820, 13.

population of, in 1820, 13.

slaves in, 14.

H. J. Raymond's arrival

in, 29.

old landmark removed,
154.

INDEX.

497

New York cable excitement in 1858,

254.
number of newspapers in,

330.

magazines in, 334.
evening papers in, 347.
morning journals in, 351.

O'BRIEN, Fitz James, 143, 144.
Observer, New York, 343.

New-Yorker, H. J. Raymond, writ-
ing for, 29.
merged in the Tribune,

30.

revived, 41.
Norvell, Caleb C., 107, 352.

Ode, Fourth of July, by H. J. Bay-
mond, 20.

PALMER, Nehemiah C., 107.

Park, Central, and W. C. Bryant,

349.
Personalities in journalism, 251.

—See "Herald," "Trib-
une," " Courier and
Enquirer."

Philadelphia Convention, the, 170.
list of delegates to, 170.
address of, 171.
Phillips, Morris, 348.
Pittsburg, Republican Convention,

at, 147.
address, 148.
Pigeons, carrier, 40.
Plumb, J. B., 91.

Poets and poetesses, Win. C. Bryant
on, 268.

Political journalism, 340.

Polk, James K., 318.

Pond, George E., 352.

Press clubs, 328, 330.

Press, American — See "Journal-
ism."

Press and Globe, 347.

Prices of newspapers, 330.

Prime, Rev. S. I., S43.

Rev. E. D. G., 343.

Printers engaged on the Times, 107.

Printing-House Square, 156.

Profits of newspapers, present, 325.

Prospectus, flrst of the New York
Times, 93.

Punch, 341.

12.

RAYMOND, Henry Jarvis, birth of, 15.
early life, 16.
a reader at three, 17.
his flrst teacher, 17.
a speaker at five, 17.
studies as a schoolboy, 18.
in the Wesleyau Seminary,

19.

in a country store, 20.
teacher of a district school,

20.

Fourth of July ode by, 20.
in college, 23.
as a student, 24.
reading Homer, 25.
E. A. Stansbury on, 26.
and Henry Clay. 26, 27.
graduation, 27.
flrst political speeches, 28.
in the Han-isoii campaign,

28.

arrival in New York, 29.
visit to Horace Greeley, 29.
advertising fora schqol,29.
in a law office, 29.
32

Raymond, Henry J., writing for the
New-Yorker, 29.

his account of his work,
29.

employed by Horace Gree-
ley, 29, 30.

meagre pay and extra
work, 30.

as a correspondent, 30.

In the Tribune, 30.

determination of, 32.

reporting Dr. Lardner's
lectures, 33.

serious illness of, 33.

visited by Horace Greeley,
34.

on remuneration, 34.

Thomas McElrath on, 34.

retirement from the Trib-
une, 35.

in the Courier and En-
quirer, 35,

reporting Mr. Webster's
speech, 40.

flrst idea of the Times, 53.

498

INDEX.

Raymond, Henry J., attack upon so-
cialism, 58.

discussion with Horace
Greeley, 58-76.

at twenty-eight, 77.

apprised of burning of
homestead, 77.

letter to his father, 77.

letter to his father and
mother, 78.

letter to his brother Sam-
uel, 79.

visit to Lima, 79.

filial devotion of, 80, 229.

generosity of, 80,219, 221,
222.

entrance into political life,
81.

first election to the Assem-
bly, 81.

report on Rackett River,81 .

return to editorial duty,
81, 82.

buying stock in the Cou-
rier and Enquirer, 82.

second election to the AST
sembly, 82.

chosen speaker, 82.

opening address, 82.

as a parliamentarian, 83.

on canals and schools, 83.

session broken up, 83.

address to people of the
State, 83.

comical incident, 81.

and the Albany wolves, 84.

rescued by Alden J.
Spoouer, 84, 85.

difference with J. W.
Webb, 86.

withdrawal from the Cou-
rier and Enquirer, 86, 87.

first visit to Europe, 86.

letter from London, 87.

and Thurlow Weed, 88.

and George Jones, 88, 90,
91.

a walk upon the ice, 89.

proposes a new paper, 90.

bargain with George
Jones, 90.

chosen editor of the
Times, 91.

his shares given to him,
91.

attempts to prejudice, 92.

second visit to Europe, 92.

return of, 92.

begins the Times, 95.

salutatory address, 96.

Raymond, Henry J., tributes to his
assistants, 103.

and Louis Kossuth, 110.

sympathy for Hungary,
110.

speech at the municipal
banquet to Kossuth, 111.

in conflict with J. W.
Webb, 111.

finishing what he under-
took, 111'.

speech at the press dinner
to Kossuth, 114.

in the Baltimore Conven-
tion, 120.

admitted as a delegate,
121.

attempt to expel from Bal-
timore Convention, 122.

and J. W. Webb, 122.

Geo. H. Andrews, on, 122.

despatch to the Times, 122.

his defence in the Balti-
more Convention, 125-
138.

Col. T. B. Thorpe on, 138.

triumph of, at Baltimore,
138.

Judge Moore on, 139.

Albany Evening Journal
on, 140.

resolves to leave political
life, 142.

enlarges the Times, 143.

again in politics, 144.

elected delegate to the
Saratoga Convention,
144.

nominated for Lieutenant
Governor, 144.

elected Lieutenant-Gover-
nor, 145.

taking his seat in the Sen-
ate, 145.

return to Xe\v York, 145.

declining a nomination for
Governor, 145.

letter to Senator Madden,
145.

in the Pittsburg Conven-
tion, 148.

Republican address drawn
by, 148.

in the Fremont campaign,
150.

discussion with Lucien B.
Chase, 150.

battling secession, 160.

speech at Albany, 160.

warnings of, 161.

INDEX.

Raymond, Henry J., letters to Win.

L. Yanccy, 163.
course of, in the war, 163.
courage of, 164,
and the riot of July, 1863,

164.
editorial articles on the

riot, 164-6.
address of, at Wilmington,

168.
delegate to Conventions,

168.
and Andrew Johnson, 168,

169, 170.

elected to Congress, 169.
and reconstruction, 169.
temporising tendency of,

170, 192.

in the Philadelphia Con-
vention, 170.
Phila. address drawn by,

171.

political failure of, 173.
on the Democratic party,

178.
letter to Ransom Balcom,

173.
forsakes Andrew Johnson,

174.
speech at Cooper Institute,

174.
declines a renomination to

Congress, 184.
letter to citizens of New

York, 186.
the Tribune on, 190.
return to journalism, 193.
relations with George

Jones, 103.
visit to Europe in 1867,

194.

farewell dinner to, 194.
Rev. Henry Ward Beecher

on, 194.
speech at farewell' dinner,

197.

return to New York> 200.
speech at the Dickens din-
ner, 201.

devoted to the Times, 204.
sudden death of, 205.
eflcct of his death, 205.
InM appearance in public,

206.
tributes to his memory,

206-214, 221.
tardy justice to, 214.
funeral of, 215.
Beecher's eulogy on, 215.
remains of, interred in

Greenwood Cemetery,

218.

review of life of. 219.
application of, 220.
as a worker, 221.
regard for subordinates,

223.

appreciation of labor, 222.
tact of, 223.
incidents in editorial life

of, 223.

ideas of journalism, 224.
causes of his failures, 224.
mental habits -of, 225.
methods of literary labor,

225.
his biography of Lincoln,

226.

college address by, 226.
his biography of Webster,

226.
address of, at Geneseo,

227.

mental activity of, 227.
religious belief of, 227.
and " Gates Ajar," 227.
domestic relations of, 228,

229.

wife and children of, 228.
kindness of, 228.
why reserved, 228.
his mother's words, 229.
visit to Europe in 1859,

160, 238.
in the Italian campaign,

238.
on the "Elbows of the

Miticio," 239.
account of the battle of

Solferino, 240.
" run " of, from Solferino,

241.
challenged by T. F.

Meagher, 248.
Raymond, Henry W., 353.
family, 15.
Jarvi's. l.i. li;. i';>.
children of .larvis and La-

vinia. 1.1.
Samuel 15.. 1.1.
James Fitch. 1.1.
homestead, 14.
Homestead burned. 77.

Henry .1. Raymond on, 77.
sold.
Receipts of New York newspapers,

354.

Religious journalism, 342.
Reporters, tricks of, 39, 40.

H. J. Raymond as a, 33, 40.

500

INDEX.

Reporters on the Times, 257.

anecdotes of, 258, 259.

Bohemian club, 330.
Republic, the New York, 347.
Republican party, birth of, 147.
Revolution, the, 344.
Homer, W. J., pilot boat, 41.

her voyage across the ocean,

41.
Roorback hoax, the, 317.

Roorback hoax, Evening Journal on,

318.

Evening Post on, 319.
Roosevelt, Robert B., 195.

"To Raymond on his
Travels," 196.

and the Citizen, 345.
Rowell, George P. & Co., 334.
Ruggles, Francis B., 91.
Russell, William H., 255.

SCANDINAVIAN papers — See " News-
papers."

School-house in Lima, 17.
Sedley, Henry, 345, 352.
Seminary, Genesee Wesleyan, 18, 19.
Sewell, W. G., 144.
Seymour, Charles C. B., 143.

Edward, 144.
Sheppard, George, 352.
Simonton, James W., 104.

and the Congressional lob-
by, 105.

and Dr. Tuthill, 143.
and the Associated Press,

327.

Sinclair, R. R., 352.
Slavery — See "Baltimore Conven-
tion," " Pittsburg Convention,"
" Yancey," " Raymond."
Slaves in New York in 1820, 14.
" Slievegammon " hoax, 44, 45.
Socialism twenty years ago, 52.

in the New York press, 54.

fallacies of, 55.

failures of, 56.

list of experiments in, 66,

57.

" South " and his adventure, 232.
Spanish papers — See "Newspapers."

Spaulding, James R., 25, 105.
Speeches by Henry J. Raymond : —
in the Harrison campaign.

28.
at the municipal banquet to

Kossuth, 111.
at the press banquet to

Kossuth, 114.

in the Baltimore Conven-
tion, 125-138.
at Albany, 160.
at Wilmington, 168.
at Cooper Institute, 174.
at a farewell dinner, 197.
at the Dickens dinner, 201.
before alumni of Universi-
ty of Vermont, 226.
at Geneseo, 227.

Spooner, Alden J., and H. J. Ray-
mond, 84, 85.

Spring, Rev. Gardiner, 154.
Stansbury, E. A., on H. J. Raymond,

26.

Storrs, Rev. R. S., Jr., 343.
Sun, New York, under Beach, 37.
Sunday papers, 345.
Swain, James B., 107.
Swinton, John, 353.

William, 353.

TELEGRAM, New York, 347, 348.
Thompson, Rev. J. P., 343.

Jacob, 352.

Thoreau on newspapers, 356.
Thorpe, Col. T. B., 138.
Tilton, Theodore, 195, 343.
Times, New York, 38, 53, 88.

advertised, 92, 93.

project of, broached, 90.

capital of, subscribed, 91.

name selected, 91.

first owners of, 91.

formal announcement of, 91,
93.

tempest created by, 91, 92.

Times, first prospectus of, 93.
first office of, 95.
first night of, 96.
salutatory- address, 96.
a success, 98.
on Cuba, 99.
handbill of, 99.
amount of capital sunk in, 100.
results of first year of, 100,

101.

first workers on, 103.
and the Congressional lobby,

105.

enlarged, 143.
new writers employed, 143.

INDEX.

501

Times, purchase of new site for, 155.
a new building erected, 155.
its present office, 156.
in the riot week of 1863, 164.
increasing prosperity of, 193.
rise in value of shares, 204.
sale of, refused, 204.
beating Bennett at his own

game, 230.
getting news of the Arctic,

231.
a night scene in the office of,

233.
and the " Elbows of the Min-

cio," 238, 243.

and the carriers' address, 250.
caricaturing Bennett, 251.
on the cable excitement, 254.
and George Jones, 88, 91, 193,

222. 352.
in 1870, 352.
editorial force of, 352.
Tribune, New York, 28.

established, 30, 32, 38.

original capital of, 38.

Tribune, reporter playing a trick, 39,

40.
and the " Slievegamrnon "

hoax, 44.
office burned, 46.
joint-stock company, 47.
in disrepute, 52, 58.
socialistic controversy with

the Courier and Enquirer,

58-76.

profits of, 90.
hatred of the Times, 91.
notice to carriers of, 92.
secession from, 92.
in the war, 164.
on political course of Henry

J. Raymond, 190.
on the death of Henry J.

Raymond, 209.
injustice of, 214.
in 1870, 351.
Tricks of reporters, 39, 40.

Bohemian, 250.
Tuthill, Dr. Frank, 143, 144.

UNIVERSITY of Vermont, 23.

VANITY Fair, 341.

Vermont, University of, 23.

WAK, civil, beginning of, 163.

Henry J. Raymond's course in,

163.
Webb, James Watson, 32.

attack upon Horace Greeley,

42.
quarrel with H. J. Raymond,

86.

in a dinner conflict, 111, 113.
and H. J. Raymond in the Bal-
timore Convention, 122.
Webb, John, 352. •

Webster, Daniel, Raymond's biogra-
phy of, 226.

Weed, Thurlow, and Henry J. Ray-
mond, 88.

Welden, Charles, 143, 144.

Welsh papers — See "Newspapers."

Wesley, E. B., 90,91.

Willis, N. P., 347.

Wilson, Alexander C., 103.

World, New York, 352.

on the death of Henry J.Ray-
mond, 213.

YANCEY, William L., 163.

Yankee Doodle, 341.

4874
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Full text of "Henry J. Raymond and the New York press, for thirty years; progress of American journalism from 1840 to 1870"

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