Part 9 (1/2)
”There is a young lawyer from Steubenville named Stanton who would like to be introduced to you.”
I was in a gracious mood and consented to receive the young lawyer named Stanton. As he came into the room and advanced toward me, immediately I felt myself in the presence of a master mind, of a soul born to command.
When introduced he gravely took my hand, and said:
”I called to congratulate you upon the pa.s.sage of your bill. It is a change I have long desired to see.”
We sat and talked on the subject some time, and my fears vanished into thin air. If this man had taken that law into favor it would surely stand, and as he predicted be ”improved and enlarged.” I have never been so forcibly impressed by any stranger. His compactness of body and soul, the clear outlines of face and figure, the terseness of his sentences, and firmness yet tenderness of his voice, were most striking; and as he pa.s.sed down the long room after taking leave my thought was:
”Mr. Stanton you have started for some definite point in life, some high goal, and you will reach it.”
This was prophetic, for he walked into the War Department of this nation at a time when it is probable no other man in it, could have done the work there which freedom demanded in her hour of peril, for this young man was none other than Edwin M. Stanton, the Ajax of the great Rebellion.
CHAPTER XI.
THE PITTSBURG SAt.u.r.dAY VISITER.
After the war, abolitionists began to gather their scattered forces and wanted a Liberty Party organ. To meet this want, Charles P. s.h.i.+ras started the _Albatross_ in the fall of '47. He was the ”Iron City Poet,”
author of ”Dimes and Dollars” and ”Owe no Man a Dollar.” He was of an old and influential family, had considerable private fortune, was courted and flattered, but laid himself and gifts on the altar of Liberty. His paper was devoted to the cause of the slave and of the free laborer, and started with bright prospects. He and Mr. Fleeson urged me to become a regular contributor, but Mr. Riddle objected, and the _Journal_ had five hundred readers for every one the _Albatross_ could hope. In the one I reached the ninety and nine unconverted, while in the other I must talk princ.i.p.ally to those who were rooted and grounded in the faith. So I continued my connection with the _Journal_ until I met James McMasters, a prominent abolitionist, who said sorrowfully: ”Well, the last number of the _Albatross_ will be issued on Thursday.”
”Is it possible?”
”Possible and true! That is the end of its first quarter, and s.h.i.+ras gives it up. In fact we all do. No use trying to support an abolition paper here.”
While he spoke a thought struck me like a lightning flash, and he had but finished speaking, when I replied:
”I have a great notion to start a paper myself.”
He was surprised, but caught at the idea, and said:
”I wish you would. You can make it go if anybody can, and we'll do all we can to help you.”
I did not wait to reply, but hurried after my husband, who had pa.s.sed on, soon overtook and told him the fate of the _Albatross_. For this he was sorry, for he always voted a straight abolition ticket. I repeated to him what I had said to Mr. McMasters, when he said:
”Nonsense!” then reflected a little, and added, ”Well, I do not know after all but it would be a good idea. Riddle makes lots of money out of your letters.”
When we had talked about five minutes, he turned to attend to business and I went to the _Journal_ office. I found Mr. Riddle in his sanctum, and told him the _Albatross_ was dead; the Liberty Party without an organ, and that I was going to start the _Pittsburg Sat.u.r.day Visitor;_ the first copy must be issued Sat.u.r.day week, so that abolitionists would not have time to be discouraged, and that I wanted him to print my paper.
He had pushed his chair back from his desk, and sat regarding me in utter amazement while I stated the case, then said:
”What do you mean? Are you insane? What does your husband say?”
I said my husband approved, the matter was all arranged, I would use my own estate, and if I lost it, it was n.o.body's affair.
He begged me to take time to think, to send my husband to him, to consult my friends. Told me my project was ruinous, that I would lose every dollar I put into it, and begged, entreated me to take time; but all to no purpose, when a bright idea came to him.
”You would have to furnish a desk for yourself, you see there is but one in this room, and there is no other place for you. You could not conduct a paper and stay at home, but must spend a good deal of time here!”
Then I suddenly saw the appalling prospect thus politely presented. I had never heard of any woman save Mary Kingston working in an office.
Her father, a prominent lawyer, had employed her as his clerk, when his office was in their dwelling, and the situation was remarkable and very painful; and here was I, looking not more than twenty, proposing to come into the office of the handsome stranger who sat bending over his desk that he might not see me blush for the unwomanly intent.