St. Tammany farmer. [volume] (Covington, La.) 1874-current, 1884-04-12
Tragedies Of the Sanctum.


and powerful intellect. When the World
fell into financial straits and threw re-
ligion overheard, about 1868, Mr..
Spaalding took place upon the edi-
torial staff of the Times, under Henry
j. Raymond, whose first assistant /
then was; and there he showed himself
to be the boldest master of political in
vective ever known on the American
press. To recruit his health he made
voyage to New Orleans, but on an eX-
cursion up the Mississippi his boat met
with ill-luck. and he was cast on de-
serted bank of land, where he almost
starved to death. The first l knew of
his return to New York was at a very
late hour of one night, when, being on
duty in the editorial quarters of the
Times, whistle up the pipe" from
the publication office, and a message
that Mr.. Spaulding had uttered my
name, hurried me downstairs. found
him PROSTATE on his back upon the
stone flooring, evidently struck by pa
ralysis, and entirely unconscious. In
few moments he caught my voice, and
began stammering out Latin words,
disjointed quotations from Virgil,
occasionally pressing his head with his
hands and breaking into sort of wild
laugh. 1t was after midnight by the
city hall clock when l left his side.
fastened over to the old New York hos
pital. then in Broadway, rang up tho
young doctor in charge, who agreed tn
take him in, returned to the Times vita
a stretcher, called down four compost
tors. who lifted the PROSTATE man frcn
the floor, and accompanied them back
to the hospital where saw him PLACED
safely upon cot under q doctors
charge. 1t was half an hour OF che
time for going to press when got back
to the editors sauctum. If the edi-
torial columns OF next days Times were
short or otherwise imperfect, the reason
is now for the first time told Though
Mr.. Spaulding was over fifty years old,
he had been married but few months
before, and in the morning l tcle-
graphed to his young wife, then in one
of the towns up the Hudson River, who
appeared at the hospital in very few
hours. She tended him devotedly dur
ing the days IN which he could not lie
removed from the cot, and then had
where he soon afterward bowed his
head in death. In this tragical way
ended the life of the first editor of the
New York World, a man of great soul
and honest purpose.
Even more tragical was the closing
scene, in June, 1869, of the life of Hen
~ j. Raymond himself, the distin-
guiShed founder and editor of the New
York Times. He had been at the Times
office on the afternoon of the night in
which he was found dead. and inquired
for me; but happened 10 be engaged
elsewhere in work which he had put
upon me, writing criticism of Wool
sey's ''Reform Against Nature" then
Just published. Leaving word that he
desired to see me as soon as possible,
he left the Office in his usual CHEEKY
mood. took dinner Mt his house on Ninth
Street, and then went to a political
meeting. But little is known of his
subsequent movements until after mid
night of that day (June 49,, when his
wife, who was drawn downstairs by
hearing noise, found him living dead
at the door of his house. In the midst
of a great career il the press and in
politics, his life ended i'm tragedy
never yet cleared up. In the very early
years of my manhood, Mr.. Raymond
had given me my first opportunity on
the press by inviting me to his paper,
and during the ten years that preceded,
included, aud followed the great war
for abolition Tor from 1859 to 1859,
when | was his daily associate, he
proved himself to be the most amiable
of men, as he was one of the most ac-
complished editors.
BnfI set out to tell, with the fewest
words, the tragedies of score of New
York editors of my acquaintance.
The tragedy of the death i'm mad
house of Horace Greeley, the founder
and editor of the New York Tribune
who has not been shocked by the story
of it?
The tragedy Of the death of the ven
cradle poet, William Cullen Bryant,
editor of the Ecening Post, who fell be-
fore my eyes under sunstroke in the
Central Park five years ago, is familiar
to the reader.
How suddenly and unexpectedly, in |
the summer of last year, death struck |
my associate, William o. Bartlett, of |
the San, man of great mind and great |
heart.
The tragedy of the death last Sep
tember of the jovial Hugh j. Hastings.
the editor of the Commercial Adrertiser, |
of this city,was caused through shock |
which he got when his carriage came
in collision with an express wagon. |
How suddenly and grievously in De-
cember last fell William T. Clarke,
editor of the New York Star. the good |
and talented man, who had SO often
thought it his duty to assail me for the
deeds that | did under the highest sense
of duty
The managing editor of the New
York Herald during nearly the whole
of the life of the elder Bennett was Mr..
Hudson, who came to tragical end in
the Massachusetts, town of Concord, a
few years ago, through being crushed
by a railway train.
Time fails me to tell of the lesser
of the Herald, Ned Sey-
mour and Mills of the Times, Adams Of
the Sun. and how many others. What
a line of tragedies of the sanctum is en-
rolled before my eyes.-tragedies which
have shocked my spirit every year
since first stood, as STRIPPING, within
the innermost circles of the daily press
of New York.
The tragedy of poor Doc Wood is the
latest on the roll.-,Iohn SUinton's Pa
per.
The Montreal Witness relates that
Mayor Beaudry, of that city, excited
some comment and amazement by
driving through the streets with his head
encircled in huge blue veil, in appear