A BRIEF NARRATION OF INCIDENTS AND EVENTS CONNECTED WITH THE EARLY DAYS OF ST. PAUL, DAILY NEWSPAPERS.
If James M. Goodhue could revisit
the earth and make a tour among the daily newspaper
offices of St. Paul he would discover that wonderful
strides had been made in the method of producing a
newspaper during the latter half of the past century.
Among the first things to attract the attention of
this old-timer would be the web-perfecting press,
capable of producing 25,000 impressions an hour, instead
of the old hand press of 240 impressions an hour;
the linotype machine, capable of setting
6,000 to 10,000 ems per hour, instead of the old hand
compositor producing only 800 to 1,000 ems per hour,
and the mailing machine, enabling one man to do the
work of five or six under the old method. Think
of getting out the Sunday Pioneer Press with the material
in use fifty years ago. It would take 600 hand
presses, 600 hand pressmen and 600 boys three hours
to print the edition, and as there were no means of
stereotyping in those days the forms would have to
be set up 600 times, requiring the services of 5,000
compositors. Papers printed under these conditions
would have to be sold for one dollar each, and there
would not be much profit in it at that. The first
daily papers printed in St. Paul were not conducted
or a very gigantic scale, as the entire force of one
office generally consisted of one pressman, five or
six compositors, two editors and a business manager.
A few reminiscences of the trials and tribulations
of the early newspaper manager, editor and compositor
may not be wholly devoid of interest.
In 1857 there occurred in Minnesota
an election of delegates to the constitutional convention
to provide for the admission of Minnesota into the
galaxy of states. The election was so close, politically,
that when the delegates met there was a division, and
the Republicans and Democrats held separate conventions.
At the conclusion of the work of the two conventions
the contract for printing was awarded to the two leading
papers of the state the Pioneer and the
Minnesotian the Pioneer to print the proceedings
of the Democratic body and the Minnesotian that of
the Republican. This contract called for the
expenditure of considerable money for material with
which to perform the work. Mr. Moore, the business
manager of the Minnesotian, went to New York and purchased
a Hoe press, the first one ever brought to the state,
and a large quantity of type; also a Hoe proof press,
which is still in use in the Pioneer Press composing
room. When the book was about completed the business
manager of the Minnesotian was informed that an injunction
had been issued prohibiting him from drawing any money
from the state until the question of the right of the
Minnesotian to do any state printing had been determined
by the district court. Mr. Goodrich was state
printer and claimed he had a right to print the proceedings
of both constitutional bodies. This action on
the part of the Pioneer produced great consternation
in the Minnesotian office, as most of the men had
not received more than half pay for some time, and
now, when the balance of their pay was almost in sight,
they were suddenly compelled to await the slow and
doubtful action of the courts before receiving pay
for their summer’s work. The district court,
subsequently confirmed by the supreme court, decided
in favor of the Minnesotian, and the day following
the decision Mr. Moore, of the Minnesotian, brought
down a bag of gold from the capitol containing $4,000,
and divided it up among his employes.
In 1858, when the first Atlantic cable
was laid, the news was anxiously looked for, and nearly
every inhabitant of the city turned out to greet the
arrival of the Gray Eagle and Itasca, two of the fastest
boats on the river, which were expected to bring the
news of the successful laying of the cable. The
Gray Eagle started from Dubuque at 9 o’clock
in the morning and the Itasca started from Prairie
du Chien, about 100 miles farther up the river, at
noon of the same day. When the boats reached
the bend below the river they were abreast of each
other, and as they reached the levee it was hardly
possible to tell which was ahead. One of the passengers
on the Gray Eagle had a copy of the Dubuque Herald
containing the Queen’s message, tied up with
a small stone on the inside of it, and as he threw
it to the shore a messenger from the Minnesotian caught
it and ran up Bench street to the Minnesotian office,
where the printers were waiting, and the Minnesotian
had the satisfaction of getting out an extra some
little time before their competitors.
In the summer season the newspapers
had to rely, to a considerable extent, on the steamboats
for late Dubuque and Chicago papers for telegraph
news. There were three or four daily lines of
steamers to St. Paul, and every one of them could
be distinguished by its whistle. When it was
time for the arrival of the boat bringing the newspapers
from which the different papers expected to get their
telegraphic news, messengers from the different offices
would be at the levee, and as the boat neared the
shore they would leap for the gangplank, and there
was always a scramble to get to the clerk’s office
first. James J. Hill and the late Gus Borup were
almost always at the levee awaiting the arrival of
the steamers, but as they were after copies of the
boats’ manifest they did not come in competition
with the adventurous kids from the newspaper offices.
The Minnesotian was probably the first
daily paper in the West to illustrate a local feature.
During the summer of 1859 a man by the name of Jackson
was lynched by a mob in Wright county, and Gov.
Sibley called out the Pioneer Guards to proceed to
the place where the lynching occurred and arrest all
persons connected with the tragedy. The Pioneer
Guards was the crack military company of the state,
and the only service any of its members ever expected
to do was in the ballroom or to participate in a Fourth
of July parade. When they were called out by
the governor there was great consternation in the ranks.
One of the members, who is still a prominent politician
in the city, when told that his first duty was to
serve his country, tremblingly remarked that he thought
his first duty was to provide for his wife and family.
A number of them made their wills
before departing, as they thought the whole of Wright
county was in open rebellion. After being absent
for about a week they proudly marched back to the city
without ever firing a gun or seeing an enemy.
The late J. Fletcher Williams was city editor of the
Minnesotian, and he wrote an extended account of the
expedition, and It was profusely illustrated with patent
medicine cuts and inverted wood type and border, the
only available material at that time that could be
procured.
The year 1859 was a memorable one
in the political history of Minnesota. Alexander
Ramsey and George L. Becker, both now living in this
city, were the rival candidates for governor.
The Republicans made extraordinary efforts to elect
their state and legislative tickets, as both governor
and United States senator were at stake. Among
the speakers imported by the Republicans were the Hon.
Galusha A. Grow of Pennsylvania and Hon. Schuyler
Colfax of Indiana. Mr. Grow, then as now, represented
the congressional district in Pennsylvania in which
I formally resided, and I was very anxious to hear
him, as the first political speech I had ever heard
was made by him in a small village in Pennsylvania.
The speakers were announced to speak at the old People’s
theater, on the corner of Fourth and St. Peter streets,
and I was among the first to enter. The theater
was packed to overflowing. Mr. Grow had made
a very interesting speech of about an hour’s
duration, and Mr. Colfax was to follow for an equal
length of time. After Mr. Colfax had spoken about
ten minutes an alarm of fire was sounded and in less
than fifteen minutes the entire structure was burned
to the ground. This happened about 9:30 o’clock
in the evening, and, strange to relate, not one of
the morning papers had an announcement of the fact
the next day. The morning papers at that time
were something like an evening paper of to-day.
They were set up and made up in the afternoon and
generally printed in the early part of the evening.
The result of that election was very gratifying to
the Republicans. I can see old Dr. Foster now
writing a double column political head for the Minnesotian,
the first two lines of which were: “Shout,
Republicans, Shout! We’ve Cleaned the Breech
Clouts Out!”
Dr. Foster was the editor of the Minnesotian
and was quite a power in the Republican party.
He wielded a vigorous pen and possessed a very irascible
temper. I have often seen him perform some Horace
Greeley antics in the composing room of the old Minnesotian.
At the time of the execution of John Brown for his
attempted raid into Virginia, I remember bringing
the Chicago Tribune to the doctor, containing the
announcement of the execution. I had arranged
the paper so that the doctor could take in the contents
of the heading at the first glance. The doctor
looked at the headlines a second and then exclaimed,
loud enough to be heard a block, “Great God!
In the nineteenth century, a man hung for an idea!”
At another time the doctor became
very much enraged over some news that I had laid before
him. In the early 50’s Galusha A. Grow,
of Pennsylvania, introduced into the house of representatives
the first homestead law and the Republican party soon
afterward incorporated the idea into their platform
as one of their pet measures. After superhuman
effort the bill passed the house of representatives,
that body being nearly tie politically, and was sent
to the senate. The Democratic majority in the
senate was not very favorably impressed with the measure,
but with the assistance of the late President Johnson,
who was senator from Tennessee at that time, the bill
passed the senate by a small majority. There
was great rejoicing over the event and no one supposed
for a moment that the president would veto the measure.
When I laid the Chicago Tribune before the excitable
doctor containing the announcement of Buchanan’s
veto the very air was blue with oaths. The doctor
took the paper and rushed out into the street waving
the paper frantically in the air, cursing the president
at every step.
From 1854, the date of the starting
of the three St. Paul daily papers, until 1860, the
time of the completion of the Winslow telegraph line,
there was great strife between the Pioneer, Minnesotian
and Times as to which would be the first to appear
on the street with the full text of the president’s
message. The messages of Pierce and Buchanan
were very lengthy, and for several days preceding
their arrival the various offices had all the type
of every description distributed and all the printers
who could possibly be procured engaged to help out
on the extra containing the forthcoming message.
It was customary to pay every one employed, from the
devil to the foreman, $2.50 in gold, and every printer
in the city was notified to be in readiness for the
approaching typographical struggle. One year
one of the proprietors of the Minnesotian thought he
would surprise the other offices, and he procured
the fastest livery team In the city and went down
the river as far as Red Wing to intercept the mail
coach, and expected to return to St. Paul three or
four hours in advance of the regular mail, which would
give him that much advantage over his competitors.
Owing to some miscalculation as to the time the stage
left Chicago the message was delivered in St. Paul
twenty-four hours earlier than was expected, and the
proprietor of the Minnesotian had the pleasure of
receiving a copy of his own paper, containing the
complete message, long before he returned to St. Paul.
The management always provided an oyster supper for
the employes of the paper first out with the message,
and it generally required a week for the typos to
fully recover from its effect.
As an evidence of what was uppermost
in the minds of most people at this time, and is probably
still true to-day, it may be related that in the spring
of 1860, when the great prize fight between Heenan
and Sayers was to occur in England, and the meeting
of the Democratic national convention in Charleston,
in which the Minnesota Democrats were in hopes that
their idol, Stephen A. Douglas, would be nominated
for president, the first question asked by the people
I would meet on the way from the boat landing to the
office would be: “Anything from the prize
fight? What is the news from the Charleston convention?”
“The good old times” printers
often talk about were evidently not the years between
the great panic of 1857 and the breaking out of the
Civil war in 1861. Wages were low and there was
absolutely no money to speak of. When a man did
occasionally get a dollar he was not sure it would
be worth its face value when the next boat would arrive
with a new Bank Note Reporter. Married men considered
themselves very fortunate when they could get, on
Saturday night, an order on a grocery or dry goods
store for four or five dollars, and the single men
seldom received more than $2 or $3 cash. That
was not more than half enough to pay their board bill.
This state of affairs continued until the Press was
started in 1861, when Gov. Marshall inaugurated
the custom, which still prevails, of paying his employes
every Saturday night.
Another instance of the lack of enterprise
on the part of the daily paper of that day:
During the summer of 1860 a large
party of Republican statesmen and politicians visited
St. Paul, consisting of State Senator W.H. Seward.
Senator John P. Hale, Charles Francis Adams, Senator
Nye, Gen. Stewart L. Woodford and several others of
lesser celebrity. The party came to Minnesota
in the interest of the Republican candidate for president.
Mr. Seward made a great speech from the front steps
of the old capitol, in which he predicted that at
some distant day the capitol of this great republic
would be located not far from the Falls of St. Anthony.
There was a large gathering at the capitol to hear
him, but those who were not fortunate enough to get
within sound of his voice had to wait until the New
York Herald, containing a full report of his speech,
reached St. Paul before they could read what the great
statesman had said.
In the fall of 1860 the first telegraph
line was completed to St. Paul. Newspaper proprietors
thought they were then in the world, so far as news
is concerned, but it was not to be so. The charges
for telegraph news were so excessive that the three
papers in St. Paul could not afford the luxury of
the “latest news by Associated Press.”
The offices combined against the extortionate rates
demanded by the telegraph company and made an agreement
not to take the dispatches until the rates were lowered;
but it was like an agreement of the railroad presidents
of the present day, it was not adhered to. The
Pioneer made a secret contract with the telegraph company
and left the Minnesotian and the Times out in the
cold. Of course that was a very unpleasant state
of affairs and for some time the Minnesotian and Times
would wait until the Pioneer was out in the morning
and would then set up the telegraph and circulate
their papers. One of the editors connected with
the Minnesotian had an old acquaintance in the pressroom
of the Pioneer, and through him secured one of the
first papers printed. This had been going on
for some time when Earle S. Goodrich, the editor of
the Pioneer, heard of it, and he accordingly made
preparation to perpetrate a huge joke on the Minnesotian.
Mr. Goodrich was a very versatile writer and he prepared
four or five columns of bogus telegraph and had it
set up and two or three copies of the Pioneer printed
for the especial use of the Minnesotian. The
scheme worked to a charm. Amongst the bogus news
was a two-column speech purporting to have been made
by William H. Seward in the senate just previous to
the breaking out of the war. Mr. Seward’s
well-known ideas were so closely imitated that their
genuineness were not questioned. The rest of
the news was made up of dispatches purporting to be
from the then excited Southern States. The Minnesotian
received a Pioneer about 4 o’clock in the morning
and by 8 the entire edition was distributed throughout
the city. I had distributed the Minnesotian throughout
the upper portion of the city, and just as I returned
to Bridge Square I met the carrier of the Pioneer,
and laughed at him for being so late. He smiled,
but did not speak. As soon as I learned what
had happened I did not do either. The best of
the joke was, the Times could not obtain an early
copy of the Pioneer and set up the bogus news from
the Minnesotian, and had their edition printed and
ready to circulate when they heard of the sell.
They at once set up the genuine news and circulated
both the bogus and regular, and made fun of the Minnesotian
for being so easily taken in.
The Pioneer retained the monopoly
of the news until the Press was started, on the 1st
of January, 1861. The Press made arrangements
with Mr. Winslow for full telegraphic dispatches,
but there was another hitch in the spring of 1861
and for some time the Press had to obtain its telegraph
from proof sheets of the St. Anthony Falls News, a
paper published in what is now East Minneapolis.
Gov. Marshall was very much exercised at being
compelled to go to a neighboring town for telegraph
news, and one night when news of unusual importance
was expected he had a very stormy interview with Mr.
Winslow. No one ever knew exactly what he told
him, but that night the Press had full telegraphic
reports, and has had ever since.
Gov. Marshall was a noble man.
When the first battle of Bull Run occurred the earlier
reports announced a great Union victory. I remember
of going to Dan Rice’s circus that night and
felt as chipper as a young kitten. After the
circus was out I went back to the office to see if
any late news had been received. I met Gov.
Marshall at the door, and with tears rolling down
his cheeks he informed me that the Union force had
met with a great reverse and he was afraid the country
would never recover from it. But it did, and the
governor was afterward one of the bravest of the brave
in battling for his country’s honor.
Printers were very patriotic, and
when Father Abraham called for “three hundred
thousand more” in July, 1862, so many enlisted
that it was with much difficulty that the paper was
enabled to present a respectable appearance.
The Press advertised for anything that could set type
to come in and help it out. I remember one man
applying who said he never had set any type, but he
had a good theoretical knowledge of the business.
One evening an old gentleman by the
name of Metcalf, father of the late T.M. Metcalf,
came wandering into the office about 9 o’clock
and told the foreman he thought he could help him
out. He was given a piece of copy and worked
faithfully until the paper went to press. He
was over eighty years old and managed to set about
1,000 ems. Mr. Metcalf got alarmed at his father’s
absence from home and searched the city over, and
finally found him in the composing room of the Press.
The old man would not go home with his son, but insisted
on remaining until the paper was up.
Although Minnesota sent to the war
as many, if not more, men than any other state in
the Union in proportion to its population, yet it was
necessary to resort to a draft in a few counties where
the population was largely foreign. The feeling
against the draft was very bitter, and the inhabitants
of the counties which were behind in the quota did
not take kindly to the idea of being drafted to fight
for a cause they did not espouse. A riot was
feared, and troops were ordered down from the fort
to be in readiness for any disturbance that might occur.
Arrangements for the prosecution of the draft were
made as rapidly as possible, but the provost marshal
was not in readiness to have it take place on the
day designated by the war department. This situation
of affairs was telegraphed to the president and the
following characteristic reply was received:
“If the draft cannot take place, of course it
cannot take place. Necessity knows no law.
A. Lincoln.” The bitterest feeling of the
anti-drafters seemed to be against the old St. Paul
Press, a paper that earnestly advocated the vigorous
prosecution of the war. Threats were made to mob
the office. A company was organized for self-defense,
and Capt. E.R. Otis, now of West Superior,
one of the Press compositors at that time, was made
post commander. Capt. Otis had seen service
in the early part of the war and the employes considered
themselves fortunate in having a genuine military
man for a leader. The office was barricaded, fifteen
old Springfield muskets and 800 rounds of ammunition
was brought down from the capitol and every one instructed
what to do in case of an attack. I slept on a
lounge in the top story of the old Press building
overlooking Bridge Square, and the guns and ammunition
were under my bed. I was supposed to give the
alarm should the mob arrive after the employes had
gone home. As there was no possible avenue of
escape in case of an attack, it looks now as if the
post commander displayed poor judgment in placing
a lone sentinel on guard. But there was no riot.
The excitement gradually died away and the draft took
place without interruption.
Before and some time after the war
the daily newspapers took advantage of all the holidays
and seldom issued papers on the days following Christmas,
New Year’s, Washington’s birthday, Fourth
of July and Thanksgiving. On the Fourth of July,
1863, the Pioneer made arrangements to move from their
old quarters near the corner of Third and Cedar streets
to the corner of Third and Robert. It happened
that on that day two of the greatest events of the
Civil war had occurred the battle of Gettysburg
and the surrender of Vicksburg. The Pioneer being
engaged in moving their plant could not issue an extra
on that occasion, and the Press had the field exclusively
to itself. The news of these two great events
had become pretty generally known throughout the city
and the anxiety to get fuller particulars was simply
intense. The Press, having a clear field for that
day, did not propose to issue its extra until the
fullest possible details had been received. A
great crowd had assembled in front of the old Press
office, anxiously awaiting details of the great Union
victories. I had helped prepare the news for
the press and followed the forms to the press room.
As soon as a sufficient number of papers had been printed
I attempted to carry them to the counting room and
place them on sale. As I opened the side door
of the press room and undertook to reach the counting
room by a short circuit, I found the crowd on the outside
had become so large that it was impossible to gain
an entrance in that direction, and undertook to retreat
and try another route. But quicker than a flash
I was raised to the shoulders of the awaiting crowd
and walked on their heads to the counting room window,
where I sold what few papers I had as rapidly as I
could hand them out. As soon as the magnitude
of the news got circulated cheer after cheer rent the
air, and cannon, anvils, firecrackers and everything
that would make a noise was brought into requisition,
and before sundown St. Paul had celebrated the greatest
Fourth of July in its history.
I arrived in St. Paul on the morning
of the 17th of April, 1858, and Immediately commenced
work on the Daily Minnesotian, my brother, Geo. W.
Moore, being part owner and manager of the paper.
I had not been at work long before I learned what
a “scoop” was. Congress had passed
a bill admitting Minnesota into the Union, but as there
was no telegraphic communication with Washington it
required two or three days for the news to reach the
state. The Pioneer, Minnesotian and Times were
morning papers, and were generally printed the evening
before. It so happened that the news of the admission
of Minnesota was brought to St. Paul by a passenger
on a late boat and the editors of the Pioneer accidentally
heard of the event and published the same on the following
morning, thus scooping the other two papers. The
Minnesotian got out an extra and sent it around to
their subscribers and they thought they had executed
a great stroke of enterprise. It was not long
before I became familiar with the method of obtaining
news and I was at the levee on the arrival of every
boat thereafter. I could tell every boat by its
whistle, and there was no more scoops ’till
the telegraph line was completed in the summer of 1860.
During the latter part of the Civil
war the daily newspapers began to expand, and have
ever since kept fully abreast of the requirements of
our rapidly increasing population. The various
papers were printed on single-cylinder presses until
about 1872, when double-cylinders were introduced.
In 1876 the first turtle-back press was brought to
the city, printing four pages at one time. In
1880 the different offices introduced stereotyping,
and in 1892 linotype type-setting machines
were installed. The next great advance will probably
be some system of photography that will entirely dispense
with the work of the printer and proofreader.
Who knows?