But the _Evening Post_ repeatedly protested against the undue severity

of the censorship, just as it protested against improper interferences

with personal liberty in other spheres. It complained that the rules

laid down by Stanton and the field commanders were often capricious,

and that by holding up harmless news they bred harmful rumors.

Thus on Sept. 1, 1862, New York was highly excited all afternoon

by a canard that Pope had been pushed back to Alexandria and was

being beaten by the Confederates within sight of Washington. Why?

asked the _Evening Post_ next day. It was because Stanton wanted all

the correspondents kept away from the front, and the public was at

the mercy of every rogue or coward who started a false report. The

terrible disaster of Fredericksburg was concealed by the censorship

in the most inexcusable way. The battle was fought on Saturday, the

13th of December. On the 14th and 15th there was no news; on the 16th

the _Post_ carried the bare statement that the army had recrossed the

Rappahannock, which it optimistically interpreted as meaning that the

heavy rains had swollen the river and imperilled the communications.

On the 17th it knew that Burnside’s forces had been flung back with

terrible slaughter four days before, and it joined the chorus of the

New York press in denouncing the official secrecy. The first authentic

news of this battle was sent the _Tribune_ by a future owner of the

_Evening Post_, Henry Villard, who obtained it by an heroic all-night

ride, and bringing it to Washington, evaded Stanton’s order by sending

it north by railway messenger.

Similar secrecy attended the early stages of the battle of

Chancellorsville, causing needless agony of mind at the North and

profiting only the stock-jobbers. Just before Gettysburg rumors were

afloat of a heavy blow to Hooker. C. C. Carleton, said the _Post_,

tried to wire his Boston paper, “Do not accept sensation dispatches,”

but the telegraph censor brusquely canceled this sensible message.

The Philadelphia editors and correspondents long surpassed all others

in the picturesqueness of their lies, and the _Post_ called attention

to some of their masterpieces--e.g., their circumstantial story of the

capture of Richmond by Gen. Keyes in 1862--as made possible by the

censor’s concealment of the real facts. Nordhoff complained that some

of the paper’s dispatches filed in the morning at 10:30 did not reach

New York till 5 p. m., simply because the censor was out of his office

or negligent. The worst count in the indictment, however, was that

some great bankers got news of the battles by cipher, and used it in

speculation while the people remained ignorant of the actual events.

With the Civil War came the first plentiful use of headlines in the

_Evening Post_, usually placed on page three, where the telegraphic

news was used. In those days verbs in headlines were conspicuous

chiefly by their absence; but the writer knew his business. When the

bombardment of Sumter began he summarized the whole significance of the

event in his first two words: “CIVIL WAR--BOMBARDMENT OF FORT SUMTER--A

DAY’S FIGHTING.” After Bull Run he tried to save the feelings of New

Yorkers by tactful phrasing: “RETROGRADE MOVEMENT OF OUR ARMY!--GEN.

McDOWELL FALLING BACK ON WASHINGTON--OUR LOSS 2,500 to 3,000.” And the

two most important headlines of the whole war were admirable in their

simple fitness. It would be impossible to improve upon the first three

words used on April 15, “AN APPALLING CALAMITY--ASSASSINATION OF THE

PRESIDENT--MR. LINCOLN SHOT IN FORD’S THEATRE IN WASHINGTON”; or upon

the first three of April 10, “THE GLORIOUS CONSUMMATION--THE REBELLION

ENDED--SURRENDER OF LEE.”

Throughout the war the _Evening Post_ was as distinguished for one

feature--its poetry--as the _Herald_ was for its admirable maps. Every

writer of verse took inspiration from the conflict, and sent it to the

only newspaper conducted by a great poet. A few days after Sumter

surrendered, the editors declared that if poetry could win the war,

they already had enough to do it. Four years later, on April 13, 1865,

they remarked that “we have received verses in celebration of the late

victories enough to fill four or five columns of our paper.”

Among the first war poems published by the _Evening Post_ were two of

genuine distinction, R. H. Stoddard’s stirring call to war, “Men of the

North and West,” and Christopher Cranch’s stanzas, “The Burial of Our

Flag”:

O who are they that troop along, and whither do they go?

Why move they thus with measured tread, while funeral trumpets

blow?--

Why gather round that open grave in mockery of woe?

They stand together on the brink--they shovel in the clod--

But what is that they bury deep?--Why trample they the sod?

Why hurry they so fast away without a prayer to God?

It was no corpse of friend or foe. I saw a flag uprolled--

The golden stars, the gleaming stripes were gathered fold on fold,

And lowered into the hollow grave to rot beneath the mould.

Then up they hoisted all around, on towers, and hills, and crags,

The emblem of their traitorous schemes--their base disunion flags.

That very night there blew a wind that tore them all to rags!

And one that flaunted bravest by the storm was swept away,

And hurled upon the grave in which our country’s banner lay--

Where, soaked with rain and stained with mud, they found it the next

day.

From out the North a Power comes forth--a patient power too long--

The spirit of the great free air--a tempest swift and strong;

The living burial of our flag--he will not brook that wrong.

The stars of heaven shall gild her still--her stripes like rainbows

gleam;

Her billowy folds, like surging clouds, o’er North and South shall

stream.

She is not dead, she lifts her head, she takes the morning’s beam!

* * * * *

Much verse came from writers of the rank of Alice and Phœbe Cary,

who published nearly all their war poems in the _Post_. Mrs. R. H.

Stoddard, still remembered as a novelist, wrote unfinished but sincere

and touching poetry. Miles O’Reilly, whom Walt Whitman found the most

popular writer of war verse among the troops, contributed repeatedly.

Thomas Wentworth Higginson, leading his black troops in South Carolina,

and recalling Bryant’s “Song of Marion’s Men,” sent his graceful

“Song from the Camp.” Park Benjamin wrote much in the early years of

the war, and before its close Helen Hunt Jackson began to appear in

the _Evening Post’s_ pages. One of the most stirring songs of the

conflict, “We are coming, Father Abraham, three hundred thousand more,”

originally appeared in the _Evening Post_ of July 16, 1862. Unsigned,

many supposed it was the editor’s. At a large Boston meeting the next

night, Josiah Quincy read it as “the latest poem written by Mr. Wm.

C. Bryant.” Its actual author was John S. Gibbons, who for a time was

financial editor of the _Post_, and wrote two volumes on banking.

Bryant himself published two hymns in the journal, “The Earth Is Full

of Thy Riches” (1863) and “Thou Hast Put All Things Under His Feet”

(1865). But the finest poetical contribution which he ever made to it

was his “Death of Lincoln”:

O slow to smite, and swift to spare,

Gentle and merciful and just!

which first saw the light in the _Evening Post_ of April 20, 1865.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

RECONSTRUCTION AND IMPEACHMENT

Most of the metropolitan newspapers emerged from the Civil War with

increased circulation, and several, like the _Evening Post_, with

enhanced prosperity. The circulation was not high by present standards:

when peace was declared the _Sun_ was printing about 50,000 copies,

the _Times_ about 35,000, and the _Evening Post_ about 20,000. But the

influence of the New York press has never been larger, for four great

journalists were then at the height of their reputation. Raymond of

the _Times_ had four more years to live, Bennett of the _Herald_ and

Greeley of the _Tribune_ had seven, and Bryant, the oldest editor of

all, thirteen. The younger generation was not quite yet needed--not

until 1868 did Dana join the _Sun_, and Whitelaw Reid the _Tribune_.

When the problems of reconstruction presented themselves, everybody

knew where the large group of Democratic journals would stand. The

_Herald_, the _World_, the _Express_, and the _Daily News_, loyal to

the grand old party of Polk and Buchanan, would urge the restoration

of the Southern States to their former standing as quickly and gently

as possible. The only real curiosity was as to the _Evening Post_,

_Times_, and _Tribune_.

Having held the radical views of Chase and Sumner in the war, having

constantly demanded more energy in its prosecution, the _Evening Post_

might have been expected to advocate severity toward the South. For a

time there were indications that it would do so. When Lincoln, just

before his death, declared in favor of encouraging and perfecting

the new State governments already set up in the South, saying “We

shall sooner have the fowl by hatching the egg than by smashing it,”

Bryant was doubtful. “But if it should happen that these eggs are

cockatrice’s eggs, what then?” he demanded. For some months after

Appomattox the _Post_ expressed its wish that “traitors” like Jefferson

Davis, Hunter, Benjamin, Wigfall, and Wise could be brought to trial;

it was not necessary to put them to death--they could be pardoned if

condemned--but justice demanded a stern arraignment.

Yet it soon became evident that the _Evening Post’s_ influence would

be on the side of moderation and leniency. Bryant’s fine obituary

editorial on Lincoln struck this note clearly. He spoke of Lincoln’s

gentle policies:

How skillfully he had avoided and postponed needless troubles,

the ease and tranquillity of our return from a time of passionate

conflict to a time of serene repose is a proof; how wisely he had

contrived to put off the suggestions of an extreme or fanatical

zeal everybody has been ready to acknowledge, for Mr. Lincoln

brought to his high office no prejudice of section, no personal

resentments, no unkind or bitter feelings of hatred, and throughout

the trying time of his Administration he has never uttered one

rancorous word toward the South....

The whole nation mourns the death of its President, but no part

of it ought to mourn that death more keenly than our brothers of

the South, who had more to expect from his clemency and sense of

justice than from any other man who could succeed to his position.

The insanity of the assassination, indeed, if it was instigated by

the rebels, appears in the stronger light when we reflect on the

generosity and tenderness with which he was disposed to close up

the war, to bury its feuds, to heal over its wounds, and to restore

to all parts of the nation that good feeling which once prevailed,

and which ought to prevail again. Let us pray God that those who

come after him may imitate his virtues and imbibe the spirit of his

goodness.

The stand taken by Bryant’s friend Chase, the poet’s natural

generosity, and the reports of a desire for reconciliation sent by

Southern correspondents, caused the paper to assume an unflinching

advocacy of President Johnson’s mild policy, and to attack the harsh

measures of Congress. In this attitude the _Times_ was with it. The

_Tribune_ took the other side vehemently, and, in a more reasonable

way, it was espoused by the city’s three great weekly organs of

opinion, E. L. Godkin’s _Nation_, _Harper’s Weekly_, and the

_Independent_, from which Henry Ward Beecher, disagreeing with Theodore

Tilton’s severe views, soon resigned.

Into the _Evening Post’s_ opinions upon the whole kaleidoscopic

succession of bills and acts bearing upon reconstruction, from 1865

to 1868, it is impossible to go in detail. Its fundamental doctrine

was fully outlined as early as May 2, 1865. The two great objects, it

affirmed, were to depart as little as possible from the old-established

principles of State government, and “to do nothing for revenge, nothing

in the mere spirit of proscription.” It believed that a convention

should be called in each State to annul the ordinance of secession,

and, by writing a new State Constitution, to repudiate the rebel debt,

guarantee the negroes equal civil rights, and regulate the elective

franchise according to immutable principles of certain application,

discarding all arbitrary and capricious rules. The States should also

ratify the anti-slavery amendment of the Federal Constitution by

popular vote. “As soon as the political power has thus been regularly

reconstituted the State, as a matter of course, resumes her relations

to the Union, elects members of Congress, and stands in all respects on

a footing with the States” of the North.

Urging this policy, Bryant and the _Evening Post_ wished to end

military rule at the South as quickly as possible, while the

Congressional radicals, led by Wade and Thaddeus Stevens, like the

_Tribune_ and _Nation_, regarded its indefinite continuance as

necessary. The _Evening Post_ held that the illiterate negroes were

unfit to vote and should be required to pass through a probationary

period; it wished the Southern ballot based upon an educational test.

The _Tribune_ and the _Sun_ supported full negro suffrage. When the

first Southern States sent Representatives to Congress the _Evening

Post_, like the _Times_ and _World_, wished them admitted. The _World_,

indeed, bitterly assailed the “rump” Congress which barred them. The

_Evening Post_, _Times_, and _World_ supported Johnson’s veto of the

Freedmen’s Bureau bill, while the _Tribune_ wrung its hands over such

journalistic depravity.

There was some justification in the objection of _Harper’s Weekly_ that

the _Post_ was too “optimistic.” Bryant appealed to the South to be

magnanimous to the negro, and to set to work to educate him and make

him the white man’s equal. He was sure that “with their healthy native

constitution, their long training to labor, their quick imitative

faculties, their new motives to enterprise, the freedmen will grow into

a most useful class.” The _Post_ underrated the enormous difficulties

of the racial problem at the South. But its course was wisdom and

humanity itself when compared with that of the Congressional extremists

who insisted upon confiscation and disfranchisement. The _Tribune_,

following these extremists, called the _Post_ and _Times_ “copperhead,”

an epithet which came with ill grace from a paper with the _Tribune’s_

war record. Greeley made an able defense of his policy in an address

in Richmond in May, 1867, but the _Tribune_ tended in the hands of his

lieutenants to be more radical than Greeley himself.

In supporting Johnson, all the moderates found their chief enemy in

Johnson himself. When he took the oath of office as Vice-President the

authentic reports of his intoxication had caused the _Evening Post_ to

demand that he either resign or formally apologize to the nation. A

year later, when he made an abusive speech saying that his opponents

Sumner and Stevens had tried “to incite assassination,” the journal

again called for an apology to the people. The _Post_ supported the

Civil Rights bill of 1866, guaranteeing the negro equality before the

law with the whites. When Johnson vetoed it, Bryant wrote in a hitherto

unpublished letter to his daughter:

The general feeling in favor of that bill is exceedingly strong,

and the President probably did not know what he was doing when

he returned it to Congress. He has been very silent since, as if

the check of passing the bill notwithstanding his objections had

stunned him. Mr. Bancroft says that he must have got some small

lawyer to write his veto message, and Gen. Dix thinks that the

trouble at Washington lessens the eligibility of the President

for a second term of office. So you see that those who supported

Johnson’s first veto fall off now. Poor Raymond seemed in great

perplexity to know which way to turn. He supported the veto, but

his paper commended it but faintly and admitted that something

ought to be done from the standpoint of the rights of American

citizenship when denied by the States.

When President Johnson removed the Governor of Louisiana that

summer, the _Evening Post_ condemned his act as unconstitutional.

It was outraged by his dismissal of officeholders to influence the

Congressional elections of 1866. His “swing around the circle,” the

famous speaking tour to Chicago and back in the early fall of 1866, in

which he lost all sense of dignity, talked of hanging Thad Stevens,

and abused his opponents as “foul whelps of sin,” completely disgusted

the _Post_. “It is a melancholy reflection,” it said, “to those who

have found it their duty to support that policy [Johnson’s], that their

most damaging opponent is the President, and that he makes a judicious

course so hateful to the people that no argument is listened to....”

It marveled at his skill “to do the wrong thing at the wrong time, to

displease everybody, and to delay that which everybody would be glad to

have over.” Moreover, as news arrived of widespread outrages against

the negroes in the South, the _Post’s_ attitude toward that section

grew less gentle.

Ratify the Fourteenth Amendment, the _Evening Post_ urged the South in

the summer of 1866; it is the only way to hasten sane reconstruction.

When the Southerners, already denying the negroes their due place at

the polls and in the courts, deliberately rejected the amendment,

it was ready to give them a stiffer dose. In February, 1867, it

pronounced in favor of the great Reconstruction Act, which divided the

ten Southern States into five military districts, and undertook to

guarantee the negro’s rights by force. That is, the abuses perpetrated

made it swing toward the Congressional standpoint--just as general

Northern sentiment swung.

But when Congress determined to impeach President Johnson, the

protest of the _Evening Post_ was as instant as that of the _Times_ or

_Sun_. The principal charges were based upon the President’s alleged

violations of the Tenure of Office Act, which prohibited him from

dismissing civil officers without the consent of the Senate. When this

Act was passed in July, 1867, the _Post_ had called it a silly and

mischievous attempt to make the President as powerless as the Mayor of

New York, and had regarded it as unconstitutional. The early talk of

impeachment it rebuked as threatening “a Mexican madness.” Naturally,

then, when Johnson defied Congress by dismissing Secretary Stanton

without consulting the Senate, the editors took the view that his

intention was merely to bring the act before the courts, and that he

should not be impeached unless he persisted in further dismissals after

the Supreme Court had decided against him. They had already written

(Dec. 2) that the impeachment talk did not carry with it the public

sense of justice, without which it must recoil upon the heads of its

promoters, and that Congress had enough useful constructive work to do

to keep it busy.

When impeachment was actually voted, the _Post’s_ comment was sorrowful

rather than angry. “It is a quarrel in which there is really no very

great substance,” it said. “It is one that might easily have been

avoided, and may be easily brought to an end.”

This was the view of the _Sun_, which had just passed under the control

of Dana, and which declared the impeachment “far too serious an

undertaking for the facts and evidence in the case.” It was likewise

the opinion of the _Times_, which asked: “Must the President be

punished for maintaining the authority of the Constitution against an

invalid law?” The position of the _World_ had its humorous aspects.

So long as it had considered Johnson a Republican, it had found no

abuse of him too violent. Even in June, 1865, it had called him “a

drunken boor,” “an insolent, vulgar, low-bred brute,” and a man “not

so respectable as Caligula’s horse.” Now, telling its readers that

Congress was attempting to remove the President “in the personal

interest of Edwin M. Stanton,” it could not be sufficiently impassioned

in his defense. Mayor Hoffman voiced the same Democratic sentiment in

saying that the impeachers of Johnson and the assassins of Lincoln

would be equally infamous in history.

But the joy of the _Tribune_ was unbounded, and in its references

to the President it ran the gamut of denunciation, from “the Great

Accidency” and “this bold, bad, malignant man” to “traitor.” Its

peroration of one ringing column editorial is a gem of its kind: “He is

an aching tooth in the national jaw, a screeching infant in a crowded

lecture room; and there can be no peace nor comfort until he is out.”

The _Nation_, originally opposed to impeachment, now approved it with

only less gusto. Every one thought Johnson either a fool or a knave,

its editor wrote, and his disappearance from the national stage would

be a heartfelt relief to all. _Harper’s Weekly_, assailing Johnson for

treachery to the party, hoped that he would sink fast and forever into

oblivion.

A contribution to calmness in the first moment of excitement was

made by the _Evening Post_ in an editorial entitled “What the People

Think.” There was no sustained perturbation, it believed; that

sensitive barometer, the gold market, had quickly become as steady as

ever. There was even a feeling of relief. Thinking of the solemnity

of the constitutional process of impeachment, men were glad that the

vindictive fight between the President and Congress “is now carried out

of the political arena and into a higher place.” The general public,

including many Democrats, held that the President had acted wrongly,

even if not in a degree deserving impeachment. But every one was

saying that there must be no violence, and the trial must be quick,

while there was an equally universal hope that, whatever its outcome,

Congress would emerge with its fury vented and in a more reasonable

state of mind.

At the outset the _Evening Post_ and the _Times_ were irritated by

two assertions of the anti-Johnson radicals. The first was that the

President might and should be suspended from office pending the

outcome of the trial. Not only was there no constitutional warrant

for such action, wrote Bryant, but the question had been discussed

in the Constitutional Convention of 1787, and it had voted that

Congress should have no such power of suspension. The _Tribune_

held also that if the Senate, sitting as a High Court upon the

President’s disobedience to the Tenure of Office Act, declared the act

unconstitutional, then its decision became forever binding. The Supreme

Court would have no authority to pass upon the constitutionality of the

act, and if it presumed to do so and to differ from the High Court,

Congress would be justified in impeaching or removing the judges. This

was too much for the _Nation_ as well as the _Evening Post_, and Godkin

promptly demolished the assertion. It should be said that Greeley at

this time was absent in the West, and the _Tribune_ was under the

charge of John Russell Young, whose harshness Greeley later disapproved.

The Evening Post: A Century of Journalism · 第 27 / 50 段