Up St. Anthony street to Fort street, up Fort street to Ramsey street,
then countermarch down Fort to Fourth street, down Fourth street to
Minnesota street, up Minnesota street to Seventh street, down Seventh
street to Jackson street, up Jackson street to Eighth street, down
Eighth street to Broadway, down Broadway to Seventh street, up Seventh
street to Jackson street, down Jackson street to Third street, up
Third street to Market street.
Ex-Gov. W.A. Gorman and ex-Gov. Alex. Ramsey were the orators of the
occasion, and they delivered very lengthy addresses. It had been
arranged to have extensive fireworks in the evening, but on account of
the storm they had to be postponed until the following night.
It was a strange coincidence that on the very day of the celebration
the last message was exchanged between England and America. The cable
had been in successful operation about four weeks and 129 messages
were received from England and 271 sent from America. In 1866 a new
company succeeded in laying the cable which is in successful
operation to-day. Four attempts were made before the enterprise was
successful--the first in 1857, the second in 1858, the third in 1863
and the successful one in 1865. Cyrus W. Field, the projector of the
enterprise, received the unanimous thanks of congress, and would have
been knighted by Great Britain had Mr. Field thought it proper to
accept such honor.
* * * * *
Some time during the early '50s a secret order known as the Sons of
Malta was organized in one of the Eastern states, and its membership
increased throughout the West with as much rapidity as the Vandals and
Goths increased their numbers during the declining years of the Roman
Empire. Two or three members of the Pioneer editorial staff procured a
charter from Pittesburg in 1858 and instituted a lodge in St. Paul.
It was a grand success from the start. Merchants, lawyers, doctors,
printers, and in fact half of the male population, was soon enrolled
in the membership of the order. There was something so grand, gloomy
and peculiar about the initiation that made it certain that as soon
as one victim had run the gauntlet he would not be satisfied until
another one had been procured. When a candidate had been proposed for
membership the whole lodge acted as a committee of investigation,
and if it could be ascertained that he had ever been derelict in his
dealings with his fellow men he was sure to be charged with it when
being examined by the high priest in the secret chamber of the
order--that is, the candidate supposed he was in a secret chamber from
the manner in which he had to be questioned, but when the hood had
been removed from his face he found, much to his mortification, that
his confession had been made to the full membership of the order.
Occasionally the candidate would confess to having been more of a
transgresser than his questioners had anticipated.
The following is a sample of the questions asked a candidate for
admission: Grand Commander to candidate, "Are you in favor of
the acquisition of the Island of Cuba?" Candidate, "I am." Grand
Commander, "In case of an invasion of the island, would you lie awake
nights and steal into the enemy's camp?" Candidate, "I would." Grand
Commander, "Let it be recorded, he will lie and steal," and then an
immense gong at the far end of the hall would be sounded and the
candidate would imagine that the day of judgment had come. The scheme
of bouncing candidates into the air from a rubber blanket, so popular
during the days of the recent ice carnivals was said to have been
original with the Sons of Malta, and was one of the mildest of the
many atrocities perpetrated by this most noble order.
Some time during the summer a large excursion party of members of the
order from Cincinnati, Chicago and Milwaukee visited St. Paul.
Among the number was the celebrated elocutionist, Alf. Burnett of
Cincinnati, and Gov. Alexander Randall of Wisconsin. They arrived at
the lower levee about midnight and marched up Third street to the hall
of the order, where a grand banquet was awaiting them. The visitors
were arrayed in long, black robes, with a black hood over their heads,
and looked more like the prisoners in the play of "Lucretia Borgia"
than members of modern civilization.
On the following day there was an immense barbecue at Minnehaha
Falls, when the visitors were feasted with an ox roasted whole. This
organization kept on increasing in membership, until in an evil hour
one of the members had succeeded in inducing the Rev. John Penman
to consent to become one of its members. Mr. Penman was so highly
Indignant at the manner in which he had been handled during the
initiation that he immediately wrote an expose of the secret work,
with numerous illustrations, and had it published in Harper's Weekly.
The exposition acted like a bombshell in the camp of the Philistines,
and ever after Empire hall, the headquarters of the order, presented
a dark and gloomy appearance. The reverend gentleman was judge of
probate of Ramsey county at the time, but his popularity suddenly
diminished and when his term of office expired he found it to his
advantage to locate in a more congenial atmosphere.
* * * * *
The Minnesotian and Times, although both Republican papers, never
cherished much love for each other. The ravings of the Eatanswill
Gazette were mild in comparison to the epithets used by these little
papers in describing the shortcomings of their "vile and reptile
contemporary." After the election in 1859, as soon as it was known
that the Republicans had secured a majority in the legislature, the
managers of these rival Republican offices instituted a very lively
campaign for the office of state printer. Both papers had worked hard
for the success of the Republican ticket and they had equal claims
on the party for recognition. Both offices were badly in need of
financial assistance, and had the Republican party not been successful
one of them, and perhaps both, would have been compelled to suspend.
How to divide the patronage satisfactorily to both papers was the
problem that confronted the legislature about to assemble. The war of
words between Foster and Newson continued with unabated ferocity. The
editor of the Minnesotian would refer to the editor of the Times
as "Mr. Timothy Muggins Newson"--his right name being Thomas M.
Newson--and the Times would frequently mention Dr. Foster as the
"red-nosed, goggle-eyed editor of the Minnesotian." To effect a
reconciliation between these two editors required the best diplomatic
talent of the party leaders. After frequent consultations between the
leading men of the party and the managers of the two offices, it was
arranged that the papers should be consolidated and the name of the
paper should be the Minnesotian and Times. It can readily be seen
that a marriage contracted under these peculiar circumstances was
not likely to produce a prolonged state of connubial felicity. The
relations between Foster and Newson were no more cordial under one
management than had hitherto existed when the offices were separate.
This unhappy situation continued until about the time the legislature
adjourned, when the partnership was dissolved. Dr. Foster assumed
entire control of the Minnesotian and Maj. Newson was manager of
the Times. George W. Moore was associated with Dr. Foster in the
publication of the Minnesotian prior to the consolidation, but when
the offices separated it was stipulated that Mr. Moore should have the
printing of the Journals of the two houses of the legislature as part
payment of his share of the business of the late firm of Newson,
Moore, Foster & Co., thus entirely severing his relations with the
paper he helped to found. After the arrangement was made it was with
the greatest difficulty that it was carried into effect, as Orville
Brown of Faribault had entered the field as a candidate for state
printer and came within a few votes of taking the printing to that
village. The Times continued under the management of Mr. Newson until
the first of January, 1861, when he leased the office to W.R. Marshall
and Thomas F. Slaughter, who started the St. Paul Daily Press with
its material. The Press proved to be too much of a competitor for the
Minnesotian, and in a short time Dr. Foster was compelled to surrender
to its enterprising projectors, they having purchased the entire
plant. This ended the rivalry between the two Republican dailies. Dr.
Foster and Maj. Newson, some time afterward, received commissions in
the volunteer service of the army during the Civil war, and George W.
Moore was appointed collector of the port of St. Paul, a position he
held for more than twenty years.
* * * * *
Does any one remember that St. Paul had a paper called the Daily North
Star? The historians of St. Paul and Ramsey county do not seem to ever
have chronicled the existence of this sprightly little sheet. During
the presidential campaign of 1860 we had two kinds of Democrats--the
Douglas and the Breckinridge or administration Democrats. There
were only two papers in the state that espoused the cause of
Mr. Breckinridge--the Chatfield Democrat and the Henderson
Independent--and as they had been designated by the president to
publish such portion of the acts of congress as it was customary
to print at that time, it was quite natural that they carried the
administration colors at the head of their columns. They were called
"bread and butter papers." The supporters of Mr. Breckinridge thought
their cause would present a more respectable appearance if they had an
organ at the capital of the state. Accordingly the late H.H. Young,
the editor of the Henderson Independent, was brought down from that
village and the Daily North Star soon made its appearance. It was not
necessary at that time to procure the Associated Press dispatches, a
perfecting press and linotype machines before embarking in a daily
newspaper enterprise, as a Washington hand press and five or six
cases of type were all that were necessary. This paper was published
regularly until after election, and as the returns indicated that the
officeholders would not much longer contribute toward its support it
soon collapsed.
St. Paul had another paper that is very seldom mentioned in newspaper
history. It was called the St. Paul Weekly Journal, and was edited by
Dr. Massey, formerly of the Ohio Statesman and private secretary to
Gov. Sam Medary. This paper was started in 1862, but on account of its
violent opposition to the prosecution of the war did not meet with
much favor, and only existed about eight months.
* * * * *
Some time during the year 1858 the Minnesotian office received about
half a dozen cases of very bad whisky in payment of a very bad debt.
They could not sell it--they could not even give it to any one.
Occasionally the thirst of an old-time compositor would get the
better of him and he would uncork a bottle. The experiment was never
repeated. Think of half a dozen cases of whisky remaining unmolested
in a printing office for more than two years. During the campaign
of 1860 the Wide Awakes and the Little Giants were the uniformed
political organizations intended to attract the attention of voters.
One dreary night one of the attaches of the Minnesotian office, and an
active member of the Wide Awakes, met the Little Giants near Bridge
Square as they were returning to their hall after a long march.
In order to establish a sort of entente cordiale between the two
organisations the Little Giants were invited over to the Minnesotian
office in hopes they would be able to reduce the supply of this
nauseating beverage. It was a golden opportunity. The invitation was
readily accepted, and in a short time fifty ardent followers of the
advocate of squatter sovereignty were lined up in front of a black
Republican office, thirsting for black Republican whisky. Bottle after
bottle, was passed down the line, and as it gurgled down the throats
of these enthusiastic marchers they smacked their lips with as much
gusto as did Rip Van Winkle when partaking of the soporific potation
that produced his twenty years' sleep. One of the cardinal principles
of the Democracy, at that time was to "love rum and hate niggers." As
the entire stock was disposed of before the club resumed its line of
march, the host of the occasion concluded that at least one plank of
their platform was rigidly adhered to.