Let them be fired upon, if they dare collect together again to

prosecute their infamous designs. Let those who make the first

movement toward sedition be shot down like dogs--and thus teach to

their infatuated followers a lesson which no milder course seems

sufficient to inculcate. This is no time for expostulation or

remonstrance.... We would recommend that the whole military force

of the city be called out, that large detachments be stationed

wherever any ground exists to anticipate tumultuary movements,

that smaller bodies patrol the streets in every part of the city,

and that the troops be directed to fire upon the first disorderly

assemblage that refuses to disperse at the bidding of lawful

authority.

The _Post’s_ uncompromising stand was thoroughly unpopular--unpopular

with not merely the ignorant, but with most business men. A Boston

journal noted that “the _Evening Post_ was the only daily paper in

that city which condemned the riots with manly denunciation, without a

single sneering allusion to the abolitionists, and in return for this

manifestation of a love of law and order, the _Courier_ assailed the

_Post_ as a promoter of the plan of parti-colored amalgamation, and

strongly hinted that the mob ought to direct its vengeance against that

office.” This was true. The _Courier and Enquirer_ had said that Editor

Leggett, who had dared defend the vile abolitionists, richly deserved

the severest castigation which had been planned for those who would

make their daughters the paramours of the negro.

In the summer of 1835 Leggett showed even greater courage upon the

same subject. The postmaster of Charleston, S. C., had refused to

deliver abolitionist letters and documents upon the ground that they

were incendiary and insurrectionary, and on Aug. 4 Postmaster-General

Kendall upheld him in a letter stating that by no act or order would

he aid in giving circulation to documents of the kind barred. It must

be remembered that the _Evening Post_ had thus far stood by Jackson’s

administration in every particular. It must also be remembered that

Leggett at this time thoroughly disapproved of the abolition movement

as untimely and impracticable. But he saw in Kendall’s measure a

bureaucratic censorship in its most odious and arbitrary form, and he

called the action an outrage:

Neither the general postoffice, nor the general government itself,

possesses any power to prohibit the transportation by mail of

abolition tracts. On the contrary, it is the bounden duty of the

government to protect the abolitionists in their constitutional

right of free discussion; and opposed, sincerely and zealously as

we are, to their doctrines and practices, we should be still more

opposed to any infringement of their political or civil rights. If

the government once begins to discriminate as to what is orthodox

and what heterodox in opinion, what is safe and what unsafe in

tendency, farewell, a long farewell, to our freedom.

Only three of the really influential newspapers of the land declined

to admit that Kendall had either done right, or had simply chosen the

lesser of two evils: the Boston _Courier_, edited by J. T. Buckingham,

the Cincinnati _Gazette_, edited by Charles Hammond, and the _Post_.

Unpopular as was the _Evening Post’s_ defense of free speech, its stand

upon financial and economic questions was far more heartily detested.

It rapidly ceased, after its first attacks upon the Bank, to hold its

old position as a representative of the city’s commercial interests.

It is true that some rich New Yorkers felt a jealousy of the Bank

because it belonged to Philadelphia, while others stood loyally with

the Democratic Party in denouncing it. But Gulian Verplanck and Ogden

Hoffman, close friends of the _Post_, were typical of many who went

over to the Bank’s side. Not a few business men affiliated with Tammany

joined the ranks of Jackson’s enemies. Historical opinion inclines to

the view that Jackson did not have a sufficient case against the Bank,

which was a salutary institution, and certainly New York commercial

circles believed this. A majority of the voters were with Jackson.

Thurlow Weed told a friend that all of Webster’s unanswerable arguments

for the Bank would not win one-tenth the ballots won by two sentences

in Jackson’s veto message relating to European stockholders and wicked

special privilege. But it was not the mass of poor voters on which a

sixpenny journal like the _Evening Post_ relied for sustenance, but

upon the professional and business men.

Leggett’s cardinal conviction, expressed with a fire and energy then

unequaled in journalism, was that the great enemy of democracy is

monopoly. He hated and assailed all special incorporations, for in

those days they usually carried very special privileges. Charters were

obtained by wire-pulling and legislative corruption, he said, to put a

few men, as the ferry-owners in New York City, in a position where they

could gouge the public. He wished banking placed upon such a basis that

legislative incorporation, exclusive in nature, would not be needed. He

wanted all franchises abolished, and would have forbidden any grant to

a company of the exclusive right to build a turnpike, canal, railroad,

or water-system between two given points. He objected even to the

incorporation of colleges and churches, quoting Adam Smith to show that

his views upon this head were less eccentric than they seemed. Joint

stock partnerships, he believed, would meet all business necessities.

The Legislature should “pass one general law, which will allow any

set of men, who choose to associate together for any purpose, to form

themselves into that convenient kind of partnership known by the name

of incorporation”; so that any group would be permitted freely to form

an insurance company, a bank, or a college granting degrees. This, of

course, would not exclude governmental supervision. Although there were

then grave abuses in monopolistic incorporation, Leggett pushed his

doctrine quite too far.

Equality was Leggett’s watchword. Those were the days when State

Legislatures were abolishing the last property restrictions upon

suffrage, and vitriolic was the wrath which the _Evening Post_ poured

upon all who opposed the movement. The whole period it pictured as a

battle between men and money; between “silk-stocking, morocco-booted,

high-living, white-gloved gentlemen, to be tracked only by the marks

of their carriage wheels,” and hardworking freemen. It objected to the

theory that the state was an aggregation of social strata, one above

the other, and maintained that all useful citizens should fare alike.

Upon the word “useful,” in Carlylean vein, it insisted, for they must

be “producers.” Tariffs, internal improvements at the expense of State

and nation, and special incorporations, were violations of equality;

while the spirit of speculation was condemned as creating a “paper

aristocracy.” On Dec. 6, 1834, Leggett vindicated the right of the

laboring classes to unite in trade unions, a right then widely denied.

It is clear that his ultra-democratic crusade was essentially an

accompaniment of the rise of a new industrialism. It had its affinities

with the frontier equalitarianism personified by Jackson, but its

primary aim was the protection of the toiling urban masses.

Leggett was upon firm ground when in 1835 he began to attack the

inflation, gambling, and business unsoundness of which every day

afforded fresh proofs. There was grotesque speculation in Southern

cotton lands, Maine timber, New York and Philadelphia real estate, and

the Western lands enhanced in value by the Erie Canal. Capital was

abundant, prices were rising, and every one seemed to be getting rich.

Most Northern States were undertaking costly internal improvements with

a reckless faith in the future. Leggett looked with two-fold alarm

and indignation upon the flood of paper money then pouring from small

banks all over the country. Depreciated paper, in the first place, was

used to lower the real wages of mechanics; in the second place, he

maintained that the grant to State banks of the power to issue bills

placed the measure of value in the hands of speculators, to be extended

or contracted according to their own selfish wishes. On Dec. 24, 1834,

just before the Legislature met, the _Evening Post_ published an

appeal to Gov. Marcy. The banknotes, it said, were driving specie out

of circulation, and causing a fever of reckless speculation. “Already

our merchants are importing largely. Stocks have risen in value, and

land is selling at extravagant rates. Everything begins to wear the

highly-prosperous aspect which foretokens commercial revulsion.” It

recommended that the State should forbid the issue of any banknotes for

less than $5.

“For these views,” Leggett wrote in March, “we have been bitterly

reviled.” On June 20, 1835, the _Post_ published a striking editorial

entitled “Out of Debt,” in allusion to the current boast that the

nation owed no one. On the contrary, it stated, the people “are

plunging deeper and deeper into the bottomless pit of unredeemed and

irredeemable obligations.” It estimated that the six hundred banks of

the nation had issued paper in excess of $200,000,000. “Who will pay

the piper for all this political and speculative dancing?” The panic of

1837 gave the answer.

By his ringing editorials, written day after day at white heat, a

really noble series, Leggett became the prophet of the Loco-Foco party,

which arose as a radical wing of the New York Democracy and lived

only two years, 1835–37. The origin of the name is a familiar story.

On Oct. 25, 1835, a meeting was held at Tammany Hall to nominate a

Congressman; the conservative Democrats named their man in accordance

with a prearranged plan, put out the lights, and went home; the

anti-monopoly radicals produced tallow candles from their pockets, lit

them with loco-foco matches, and nominated a rival candidate. Leggett

was not an active politician. But the Loco-Foco mass-meetings of the

two ensuing years, and their two State conventions, enunciated the same

equalitarian doctrines which Leggett had begun to preach in 1834.

Not only those whose interests were affected by Leggett’s

anti-monopoly, anti-speculation, anti-aristocracy crusade, but many

other staid, moderate men, were horrified by it. He was charged

with Utopianism, agrarianism, Fanny-Wrightism, Jacobinism, and Jack

Cade-ism. His writings were said to set class against class, and to

threaten the nation with anarchy. Gov. William M. Marcy called Leggett

a “knave.” The advance of the Loco-Foco movement was likened to the

great fire and the great cholera plague of these years. When Chief

Justice Marshall died in the summer of 1835, Leggett unsparingly

assailed him and Hamilton as men who had tried “to change the character

of the government from popular to monarchical,” and to destroy “the

great principle of human liberty.” Marshall was regarded by most

propertied New Yorkers as the very sheet-anchor of the Constitution,

and for them to see him denounced as a man who had always strengthened

government at the expense of the people was too much. Ex-Mayor Philip

Hone was handed that editorial on an Albany steamboat by Charles King,

and dropped the journal with the vehement ejaculation, “Infamous!”

“This is absolutely a species of impiety for which I want words to

express my abhorrence,” he entered in his diary.

For the courage, the eloquence, and the burning sincerity of Leggett’s

brief editorship we must heartily admire him; but it cannot be denied

that he made the _Evening Post_, for the first and last time in its

career, extravagant. He was public-spirited in all that he wrote;

his prophecy of a financial crash was shrewd; in defending the

abolitionists against persecution he was in advance of his generation;

and his comments upon many minor questions of the day were sound. But

the newspaper lacked balance, and its influence was perhaps not so

great as when Bryant had been at hand to exercise a restraint upon

Leggett. Such an impetuous man could not spare his own health. Almost

daily the _Evening Post_ had carried an editorial of from 1,000 to

2,000 words. On Oct. 15, 1835, these utterances broke abruptly off, and

it became known that Leggett was gravely ill of a bilious fever. His

place was temporarily supplied by Theodore Sedgwick, Jr., and then by

Charles Mason, an able lawyer of the city. Bryant, loitering along the

Rhine, had hastily to be recalled.

Although Leggett had boasted the previous May that the _Evening Post_

had more subscribers than ever before and an undiminished revenue from

advertisements, its condition was rapidly declining when the editor

fell ill. For this there were a number of reasons. Leggett’s radicalism

had offended many sober mercantile advertisers. He, like some other

editors, had objected to blackening the newspaper’s pages with the

small conventional cuts of ships and houses used to draw attention

to advertisements, and had thereby lost patronage. After the death

of Michael Burnham, in the summer of 1835, the business management

had fallen to a scamp named Hanna, who was generally drunk and always

insolent. Warning symptoms of the approaching panic were in the air,

money becoming so tight late in 1835 that reputable mercantile firms

could not discount their notes a year ahead for less than 30 per cent.

Leggett, finally, had offended valuable government friends. As he wrote

(Sept. 5, 1835):

We once expressed dislike ... of the undignified tone of one of

Mr. Woodberry’s official letters, as Secretary of the Treasury, to

Nicholas Biddle; and the Treasury advertisements were thenceforward

withheld. The Secretary of the Navy, having acted with gross

partiality in regard to a matter recently tried by a naval

court-martial, we had the temerity to censure his conduct; and of

course we could look for no further countenance from that quarter.

The Navy Commissioners, being Post-Captains, ... have taken in

high dudgeon our inquiry into the oppression and tyranny practised

by their order; and “stop our advertisements!” is the word of

command established in such cases. When the _Evening Post_ exposed

the duplicity of Samuel Swartwout, the Collector of the Port, it

at once lost all further support from the Custom House. And now,

having censured the doctrines of Mr. Kendall and the practice of

Mr. Gouverneur, the postoffice advertising is withdrawn, of course.

II

While Bryant was in Europe, while the _Evening Post_ in the spring

of 1835 was beginning its abrupt plunge toward financial disaster,

there occurred the simultaneous birth of the New York _Herald_ and a

new journalism. Its immediate effect upon the _Post_ was small; its

effect in the long run upon all newspapers was profound. It was to not

only a half-wrecked _Evening Post_, but to revolutionized journalistic

conditions, that Bryant returned from Heidelberg.

When Bryant and Leggett had taken full charge of the _Evening Post_

in 1829, the New York newspapers were a quarrelsome group of sixpenny

dailies, some political, some commercial, and in their news features

all slow, dull, and half-filled by modern standards. The best-known

morning journal was the _Courier and Enquirer_, of which the editor

and after a year the sole proprietor was James Watson Webb, a rich,

hot-tempered, exceedingly handsome young man of twenty-seven, as

mercurial as any Southerner, with a native taste for fighting which had

been developed by his West Point education and some years in the army.

Webb knew the use of the sword, pistol, and cane decidedly better than

that of the pen. The _Evening Post_ well characterized him as “a fussy,

blustering, quarrelsome fellow.” He repeatedly assaulted fellow-editors

in the street; he repeatedly journeyed to Washington or Albany to tweak

somebody’s nose or exchange shots; and while our envoy to Brazil he

wanted to kill the British Minister there. When in the early thirties

Congressman Cilley of Maine charged him with taking a bribe, and

refused to accept Webb’s challenge on the ground that the latter was

no gentleman, the impetuous editor persuaded his second to challenge

and kill Cilley. Ten years later Webb provoked Congressman Thomas F.

Marshall, of Kentucky, by coarse attacks, into fighting a duel, and was

sentenced to two years in the State prison. Greeley and many others of

note signed a petition for a pardon, which Bryant indignantly opposed,

but Gov. Seward granted it.

Chief among the _Courier’s_ morning rivals was the _Journal of

Commerce_, founded in 1827 as an advocate of the introduction of

religion into business affairs, which went into the hands of David Hale

and Gerard Hallock after the abolitionist silk merchant, Tappan, gave

it up. It refused to advertise theaters and other amusement-places,

and was considered a little fanatical, but it showed extraordinary

enterprise for that day in news-gathering. In 1828 it stationed a swift

craft off Sandy Hook to intercept incoming ships and bring the first

European news up the harbor, and it subsequently arranged a relay of

fast horses from Philadelphia to bring the Congressional debates a day

in advance of its competitors. Webb followed the example, extending

the pony relay to Washington, and spending from $15,000 to $20,000 a

year on his clipper boats. Some episodes of this rivalry are amusing.

After the fall of Warsaw in the Polish war, the _Courier and Enquirer_,

to punish its competitors for news-stealing, printed a small edition

denying--upon the strength of dispatches by the ship _Ajax_--the

reported fall, and saw that copies reached the doorstep of all morning

journals. There was no such arrival as the _Ajax_. Several newspapers

reprinted the bogus news without credit, the _Journal of Commerce_

doing so in its country but not its city edition; and great was the

_Courier’s_ sarcastic glee.

Though Webb was too explosive, too dissipated, and too slender

in ability to be a great editor, he had the money to obtain able

lieutenants. One was the Jewish journalist M. M. Noah, who had edited

the _National Advocate_ in Coleman’s day, and written patriotic dramas.

In 1825, conceiving that the time had come for the “restoration of the

Jews,” Noah had appeared at Grand Island, near Buffalo, in the insignia

of one of the Hebrew monarchs, and dedicated it as the future Jerusalem

and capital of the Jewish nation, calling it Ararat in honor of the

original Noah. Disillusioned in this project, Noah bought a share in

the _Courier_ in 1831, and in 1832 resigned it. Another worker on the

_Courier_ was Charles King; James K. Paulding contributed; and in the

forties it obtained Henry J. Raymond’s services. But the most notable

of its writers when the year 1829 ended was a smart young Scotchman

named James Gordon Bennett, who, after knocking about from Boston

to Charleston in various employments--he had even essayed to open a

commercial school in New York--had made a shining success in 1828 as

Washington correspondent for Webb.

Bennett, at this time highly studious, had examined in the

Congressional Library one day a copy of Horace Walpole’s letters, and

at once began to imitate them in his correspondence, making it lively,

full of gossip, and even vulgarly frank in descriptions of men of the

day. Some Washington ladies were said to be indebted to Bennett’s

glowing pen-pictures for their husbands. He was active in other

capacities for the journal--he reported the White-Crowinshield murder

trial in Salem, Mass., wrote editorials, squibs, and amusing articles

of sorts; and Webb showed how fundamentally lacking he was in editorial

discernment when he never let Bennett receive more than $12 a week. In

1832 the homely, thrifty youngster from Banffshire left the _Courier_.

Others among the eleven dailies were the _Commercial Advertiser_, the

_Daily Advertiser_, and the _Star_, the last-named being the _Post’s_

closest rival in evening circulation. Much attention was attracted to

the _Daily Advertiser_ in 1835 by the Washington letters of Erastus

Brooks, a young man who wrote as brightly as Bennett but more soberly.

The following year he and his brother James founded the _Express_, also

a sixpenny paper, which succeeded against heavy obstacles. Compared

with London, the New York field was overcrowded, and no journal had

many subscribers; the _Courier_ was vastly proud when it printed 3,500

copies a day. Newspapers were sold over the counter at the place of

publication, and at a few hotels and coffeehouses, but not on the

streets; the first employment of newsboys excited indignation, and

was denounced as leading them into vice. Advertising rates continued

ridiculously small. The _Evening Post_ and its contemporaries still

made the time-honored charge of $40, with a subscription thrown in, for

indefinite space; the first insertion of a “square,” 8 to 16 lines,

cost seventy-five cents, the second and third twenty-five, and later

insertions eighteen and three-fourths cents. When the daily advertising

of the _Courier_ (apart from yearly insertions) reached $55, that sum

was thought remarkable.

The harbinger of the new journalism was Benjamin H. Day, a former

compositor for the _Evening Post_, who in September, 1833, began

issuing the first penny newspaper with sufficient strength to survive,

the _Sun_. The idea of this innovation came from London, which had

possessed its _Illustrated Penny Magazine_ since 1830, sold in huge

quantities in New York and other American cities; Bryant had often

praised it as an instrument for educating the poor. The _Sun_ began

with a circulation of 300, which it rapidly increased, until after

the publication of the famous “moon hoax” in 1835 it boasted the

largest circulation in the world; three years later it distributed

38,000 copies daily. Not until the Civil War did it raise its price

above one cent, and it continued to be read by the poor almost

exclusively. It was not a political force, for it voiced no energetic

editorial opinions, nor was it a better purveyor of intelligence

than its neighbors. It showed no more enterprise in news-collecting,

its correspondence was inferior, and its appeal, apart from its

cheapness and special features, lay in its great volume of help-wanted

advertisements.

The new journalism therefore had its real beginning when, on May 6,

1835, in a cellar in Wall Street--not a basement, but a cellar--Bennett

established the _Herald_. He had fifteen years’ experience, five

hundred dollars, two chairs, and a dry-goods box. It also was a penny

paper. But its distinction rested upon the fact that it embodied four

original ideas in journalism. The first, and most important, was the

necessity of a thorough search for all the news. The second was that

fixed principles are dangerous, and that it is most profitable to be

on the winning side. Bennett felt with Hosea Biglow that

A merciful Providence fashioned us hollow

In order thet we might our princerples swallow.

The third was the value of editorial audacity--that is, of impudence,

mockery, and Mephistophelian persiflage--for Bennett had seen in Boston

that the saucy, indecorous _Galaxy_ had been universally abused, and

universally read. The fourth idea embodied in the _Herald_ was the

value of audacity in the news; of unconventionality, vulgarity, and

sensationalism.

The Evening Post: A Century of Journalism · 第 12 / 50 段