1844

 

____________________ 

“Let it be your sacred duty to make home happy for your children.” 

Godey’s Lady’s Book, advice for women

____________________ 

 

Godey’s Lady’s Book announces a campaign for “The Rights of Children,” and takes a stand against corporal punishment. “Nothing can be more absurd in theory and vile in practice than the attempt in common parlance ‘to break the temper’ and ‘to crush the will’…, while of all debasing, degrading influences the worst is bodily fear.” 

Seven years later, Hale printed a report by Lewis Gaylord Clark, describing schoolroom conditions. In one case, Clark wrote, “His [the schoolmaster’s] floggings were almost incessant.” One boy had his fingers feruled on the nails, “a refinement of cruelty which caused the little fellow’s nails to turn black and soon come off.” Hale argued that women should be placed in charge of primary schools, if for no other reason than that their “native feminine patience and understanding of children” would naturally incline them not to beat on their pupils. 

A teacher today might appreciate her idea of what kind of job was involved. An educator should have “the patience of Job, the wisdom of Solomon, the ‘loving spirit’ of the beloved disciple, and the energy of Paul.” 

Hale also wrote, “fathers and mothers, I beseech you, let it be your sacred duty to make home happy for your children.” 

She added, “There is no influence so powerful as that of the mother, but next in rank and efficacy is that of schoolmaster.” (113/230-231)

 

* 

“A draft of a new community in his waistcoat pocket.” 

June 27: The New Yorker has an excellent book review by Casey Cep, on Benjamin E. Park’s Kingdom of Nauvoo: The Rise and Fall of a Religious Empire on the American Frontier. It was in 1844 that the founder of the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints, Joseph Smith, announced that he would run for President of the United States, in part because none of the major political parties would promise to protect his flock. 

His “campaign” would be cut short on June 27, when a mob stormed the Carthage, Illinois jail where he was being held, and murdered him.

Joseph Smith.

 

I’ll quote Ms. Cep, for the most part. Park, she explains, traces Smith from his earliest forays into religion. He was only 21, in 1827, during the Second Great Awakening, when he dug up the golden tablets, from which the Book of Mormon comes. The angel Moroni, Smith claimed, had appeared to him several times before, finally telling him to go to the Hill Cumorah and dig for the plates. Smith had married Emma Hale by then, and she helped transcribe the words as her husband translated, from a language he called “reformed Egyptian.” 

Cep writes: 

Smith finished the transcription by 1830 and found a printer who agreed to run off five thousand copies. The result, the Book of Mormon, begins as the record of a Jewish family in Jerusalem, who, around 600 B.C., build a boat and sail to the Americas – where, six centuries later, the risen Christ preaches to their descendants. In an age when people were hungry for evidence of God’s continued involvement in the world, and in a country anxious to assert itself on the global stage, Smith’s scriptures offered appealing assurances: not only was the United States a holy land where Jesus himself had walked but God was still speaking to the men and women who lived there.

 

At first, Smith gathered a small circle of followers, usually men and women of modest means. His claims to have discovered the new word of Christ did not sit well with many of his neighbors. Mormons occasionally spoke in tongues, and they insisted that “other churches had fallen away from Christ’s true gospel.” 

On one occasion Smith was arrested as a “disorderly person.” Mormons suffered more. “Anti-Mormon mobs harassed known believers and attacked their houses; they even tarred and feathered Smith one night in 1832.” 

Cep notes the Mormon’s movements, west to Kirtland, Ohio, then, amid allegations of banking fraud, west again to Independence, Missouri, and west a third time, to Far West, Missouri. 

A growing Mormon population began to assert its voting power. Serious bloodshed soon resulted: 

In 1838, having already been evicted from one Missouri county, they went to vote in the county seat of another, where a mob attempted to stop them. There were allegations of violence in what came to be known as the Gallatin County Election Day Battle, and subsequent vigilantism left more than twenty people dead. During this period, the Missouri governor, Lilburn Boggs, declared in an executive order that “the Mormons must be treated as enemies, and must be exterminated or driven from the state if necessary for the public peace.” Three days later, seventeen Mormons were murdered by soldiers near Shoal Creek, in Caldwell County.

 

Cep notes that the next day, Smith was arrested. He spent four months in prison. Thousands of Mormons retreated to Illinois, where they were promised some protection by the governor. Smith himself escaped and fled Missouri. He and other church leaders headed for Washington D.C. with hundreds of petitions asking compensation for lost property and damages. Smith asked for $100,000. “What can I do?” President Van Buren responded. “I can do nothing for you.” 

Mormon leaders returned to Illinois, bought the town of Commerce, and renamed it Nauvoo, which Smith believed was Hebrew for “beautiful city.” Cep does an excellent job of summarizing Park’s book and highlighting key Mormon ideas. “The city of Nauvoo,” she writes, “took shape in an age when Ralph Waldo Emerson claimed that every intellectual had ‘a draft of a new community in his waistcoat pocket.’” 

Smith was doing more than building castles in the sky. His flock grew to 20,000. Nauvoo was “more populous than Chicago.” 

Cep also notes that when Gov. Boggs was shot, in 1842, “rumors circulated that Smith had placed a bounty on his head. Missouri forced Illinois into an extradition arrangement for the Mormon leader, but the municipal courts in Nauvoo thwarted it, in a scandalous act of disregard for the rule of law.” 

Unlike the Windy City, Cep explains, 

Nauvoo, operating under a permissive charter from the state of Illinois, developed a distinctly theocratic character: its independent judiciary could deny the validity of arrest warrants issued by neighboring authorities in order to shield Church members from prosecution, and its standing militia of several hundred armed men, known as the Nauvoo Legion, was empowered to protect citizens from any threat. Smith was made a Lieutenant General, a title previously held in the United States only by George Washington, and organized parades to show off the legion’s strength.

 

The Latter Day Saints also built an enormous tabernacle, twice as high as the White House; but serious troubles lay ahead. 

The story of polygamy in the church is well known, but details are debated. Here, Cep can tell the story, as she says Park has related it: 

Smith had continued to receive revelations about how the faithful were meant to serve God, so this new sanctuary housed new religious rituals. One of them called for posthumous baptism, through which Mormons could baptize a living person as a proxy for someone already deceased. Another – which would divide the Church, attract the permanent suspicion of the state, and forever taint the public perception of the faith – called for plural marriage.

 

The origins of this rite are not well known. As Park observes in Kingdom of Nauvoo, it is striking that a faith so devoted to record-keeping did not document the doctrine of polygamy. “As committed as he was to the ritual’s significance,” Park writes, of Smith, “he was similarly committed to its secrecy, knowing that its exposure would lead to Nauvoo’s downfall.” Smith publicly denied knowledge of polygamous marriages, and the few records of those unions which do exist refer to them as “sealings” – or – even more cryptically –  simply connect the names of the united with “was,” an abbreviation for “wed and sealed.” One of the only documents Smith ever recorded which attests to the practice is a blessing he wrote for the family of one of his teen-age wives, assuring her and her relatives of their salvation. Another of Smith’s plural wives – whose marriage to Smith was followed, within a few weeks, by that of her sister – later explained that these marriages were “too sacred to be talked about.” Such furtiveness makes it difficult to track the development of the doctrine, much less Smith’s theological justification for it. Some historians, including Park, believe that he took his first plural wife in April 1841, though whenever it happened, he did not tell Emma, and it was some time before she learned the truth.

 

By 1844, Park writes that Smith had taken more than thirty wives, the youngest age 14, the oldest age 56. 

BLOGGER’S NOTE: I believe this number would be disputed by current members of the Church of the Latter Day Saints. 

Cep continues: 

Originally, only Smith had multiple wives. But he gradually revealed the practice to other Mormon leaders, inviting them, selectively, to witness his plural marriages, then encouraging them to pursue their own. Not everyone approved: Smith’s brother Hyrum initially led the opposition, condemning polygamy and calling for a moral revival in Nauvoo. Hyrum was a widower, and his hostility to the practice weakened after he learned of its supposed posthumous benefits, through which he could be united in the afterlife with both his late wife and any future ones. Other Mormons remained unenthusiastic. Emma tried to marshal resistance among women through the Church’s all-female Relief Society; in response, Smith tried to stifle the organization. Emma then threatened him with divorce, at which point he promised to take no additional wives and signed his property over to her and their children, in order to secure their financial well-being in case of rival claims.

 

       If Parks is right, duplicity was involved. Cep writes: 

It would be years before any Mormon leader formally acknowledged the practice of polygamy. Instead, somewhat shockingly, the Nauvoo city council passed a law punishing adultery with six months in jail and a fine of up to a thousand dollars. (Because the city’s municipal leadership overlapped entirely with its spiritual leadership, Smith could choose to protect colleagues from prosecution under this new law.) Even more audaciously, Smith cursed “all Adulterers & fornicators” in a speech, then excommunicated two Church leaders for attempting to expose his secret marriages. The first, John C. Bennett, had been the mayor of Nauvoo; when his own polygamy became public, he accused Smith of having sanctioned it. The second, William Law, had denounced plural marriage after Smith propositioned his wife. After being banished from the faith, Law started a breakaway movement called the True Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

 

A review in Time (1/23/17), of A House Full of Females, includes this line by a Mormon woman, after the birth of her son in the mid-1840s: “May he be the father of many lives/But not the Husband of many Wives.” 

It would not be until 2016, that the minutes of the Council of Fifty, which governed Nauvoo, would be unsealed for historians to review. Smith first convened it in 1844, and members set to work “drafting an alternative to the United States Constitution.” Democracy was rejected as a “failed political project,” and was to be replaced, for Mormons, by a theocratic kingdom. The Council declared Joseph Smith to be “Prophet, Priest & King.” 

 

“The glory of American liberty is on the wane.” 

As part of his presidential platform, Smith called for the annexation of Texas. He also suggested that money from the sale of public lands could be used to buy the freedom of enslaved persons. 

According to Parks, Smith had sent letters to five other presidential candidates, only three of whom responded. None expressed any real interest in protecting the Mormons if they were elected. 

Smith then declared his candidacy: 

Persecution has rolled upon our heads from time to time, from portions of the United States, like peals of thunder, because of our religion. And no portion of the Government as yet has stepped forward for our relief. And in view of these things, I feel it to be my right and privilege to obtain what influence and power I can, lawfully, in the United States, for the protection of injured innocence.

 

The Time review, mentioned above, included several examples of Smith’s political positions. “No honest man can doubt for a moment but the glory of American liberty is on the wane,” he warned, “and that calamity and confusion will sooner or later destroy the peace of the people.” 

He called for prison reform: “Petition your state legislatures to pardon every convict in their several penitentiaries, blessing them as they go, and saying to them, in the name of the Lord, Go thy way, and sin no more. Imprisonment for debt is a meaner practice than the savage tolerates, with all his ferocity.” 

He also called on followers to petition Congress to end slavery by 1850. “We have had Democratic presidents, Whig presidents, a pseudo-Democratic-Whig president and now it is time to have a president of the United States; and let the people of the whole Union, like the inflexible Romans, whenever they find a promise made by a candidate that is not practiced by an officer, hurl the miserable sycophant from his exaltation, as God did Nebuchadnezzar, to crop the grass of the field with a beast’s heart among the cattle.” “…I would honor the old paths of the venerated fathers of freedom.” 

Not long after he declared for office, Smith was sent to jail (here we are back to Cep’s review as our source). Trouble developed when William Law and a group of dissenters began publishing a newspaper, the Nauvoo Expositor, accusing Smith of polygamy and calling him a threat to democracy. 

The Council of Fifty ordered the Nauvoo Legion to destroy Law’s press; and Smith declared martial law. 

 

Murder in Carthage. 

The state of Illinois responded by threatening military retaliation against Nauvoo, and by adding a new charge to all the outstanding ones against Smith: attempting to incite a riot. Smith surrendered himself at Carthage, the county seat. Two days later, a mob of more than two hundred men stormed the jail where the Prophet was being held and shot him as he tried to escape by jumping from a second-story window. He died not long after hitting the ground, either from the fall or from the bullets the mob fired at him once he landed.

 

Only five of the vigilantes were tried for Smith’s murder, and none were convicted. 

 

The later history of the church is better known. Sidney Rigdon, Smith’s First Counselor, tried to take control. Brigham Young, a member of an advisory council called the Quorum of Twelve, suggested instead that the Quorum take charge, with Young as president. Rigdon was later excommunicated, established a rival church, and condemned polygamy. Cep describes Young, a former carpenter: 

Young was a forceful figure – “a man of much courage and superb equipment,” per the weathered stone that marks his birthplace, in Whitingham, Vermont. Ignoring the criticisms of the surrounding secular authorities, he began to “marry for eternity” more than a dozen women, seven of whom had also been “M.E.” to Smith, while also organizing the Mormon vote for county elections. The state retaliated by revoking Nauvoo’s charter, and the antagonism between the theocratic city and its surrounding democratic neighbors intensified until, finally, the Mormons were forced out of Nauvoo.

 

There was some talk in this period about establishing a “sovereign reservation” where the Mormons could practice their faith in peace, like those granted to Native Americans. The battles between religion and law continued for another sixty years, at least. “In Reynolds v. United States (1879),” Cep explains, “the Justices ruled that the free-exercise clause did not protect plural marriage, and that a federal law banning polygamy was constitutional. Congress then passed more laws punishing the Church, including one that called for the seizure of its property.” 

As is true with almost everything, the decision in Reynolds can be found online.  

It was not until 1896 that Utah was admitted to the union as a state, after the Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints agreed to give up polygamy. For the first time, then, a Mormon was elected to serve in Congress. Reed Smoot, a member of the Quorum of Twelve, was chosen for a seat in the U.S. Senate in 1903; but, as Cep notes, “he endured several years of congressional inquiries into whether his duties as a Mormon apostle would keep him from exercising secular authority.” 

 

* 

Here, we include selections from The Diary of James Wickes Taylor, who wrote about his struggles to succeed as a law clerk and lawyer in Cincinnati. His diary, covering 1842-1844, (as edited by James Taylor Dunn), was printed by The Ohio State Archeological and Historical Society in 1950. 

As always, unless otherwise noted, we group all diary entries by one individual together for clearer use. We place his diary where it ends, in the year 1844. His first entry was made on August 2, 1842, when Taylor was 23. He spent seven years in the “Queen City of the West,” but Dunn only looks at two. Taylor went on to be editor of one newspaper, write for others, and compile a History of Ohio, First Period, 1650-1787 (published in Cincinnati in 1854). 

He married Chloe Sweeting Langford, mentioned but not named in his first diary entry, in 1845. They had five daughters. (Chloe was one of thirteen children herself.) Her husband was later appointed to be U.S. counsel in Winnipeg, Manitoba, and remained in that post for twenty-three years, until his death in 1893.

 

* 

August 2d 1842: A year since I witnessed an interview, which revealed to me a delightful assurance. Since morning, that event, and its consequences upon my present feelings and future happiness, have been to me, a constant and grateful time of musing, and let me celebrate the anniversary of that mutual discovery of two hearts – each learning the secrets of the other, by dedicating to its memory 

The first page of my Diary (1)

 

Since James must head West to find (he hopes) success in his career, he leaves Chloe behind in New York, but promises to keep a diary. He traveled by canal across most of New York, took a lake steamer at Buffalo, and on arrival in Cincinnati, he set down some of his experiences. 

Cincinnati O. December 4^th: 1842. At Syracuse I… booked myself for Lewiston via Oswego Canal and Lake Ontario. The route was new to me, although I almost repented of my choice during the long watches of that night. O!! The miseries of the crowded cabin, the foul air, and narrow berths of a Packet Boat. … 

Very little of interest occurred on our voyage to Lewiston. One hour is a sample of twenty-four. I battled a cabin-ful of Whigs one whole forenoon. I had a tete a tete with a Hungarian, whose family was evidently noble, but who had emigrated to Wisconsin about two years since. He was just returning from Europe with his wife and children, accompanied by his father (a member of the Hungarian Diet who could speak French, German and Latin, but not English) and his mother. His parents intend returning in two years. Egad! They may have been noble, but some lessons in cleanliness would not have been amiss. (2)

 

At Buffalo, Taylor boarded the steamer Illinois: 

Frank Johnson and his band played us out of Buffalo harbor … It was a beautiful day when we tempted the waters of Lake Erie. The Illinois, a noble boat, was crowded to excess with passengers. Swiss emigrants, in great numbers choked the steerage – a brutalized class in very truth. Among the endless variety of characters which thronged the decks and cabins, I noticed the Hungarian family, two young Highlanders in their native plaides [sic] and two or three families from Yates County … emigrating to the West. … Saturday morning, and I was landed in Cleveland – welcomed to the soil of Ohio by a drizzling rain, through which I plodded to my hotel. (3)

 

Cleveland impressed him, but he quickly boarded a canal boat which would take him to Columbus. 

From Sunday evening to Wednesday noon we were “dragging our slow length along” the Ohio Canal. I should have died of ennui if our company had not been select and entertaining – the table furnished with tolerable variety and neatness, and the weather so delightful, that the deck was the favorite resort of all. (4)

 

He took a stage for Cincinnati on Friday morning, December 14, arriving at 3 a.m. the next day. During the ride, he met a judge who offered up his opinions on various topics and persons. Of William Henry Harrison, the judge remarked, “He was the most insufferably vain man I ever knew.” (5) 

Once arrived in Cincinnati, Taylor found lodgings in the home of a widow lady, at terms of “$4 a week exclusive of fire and light.” (6) 

He met and befriended a Mr. Ethan Stone and his family, Stone being one of the first settlers of the town (1802), and a relation by marriage, and also Alphonso Taft, destined to be the father of U.S. President William Howard Taft. 

December 23d 1842. I had my Daguerreotype likeness taken to day with tolerable success and will make another trial to morrow. I intend it for my mother.

 

January 1^st 1843. I had intended to enter in this my diary a deliberate series of resolutions for the coming year. But when brought to the test I shrink from the attempt. … Experience of the coming year might prove a sad commentary upon the presumptive vows formed and registered on its first night. … But I will venture to note three points – 1 Religion – to examine, mature my convictions and act on this important subject – 2 My profession – in the words of Lord Eldon, to live like a hermit and work like a dog – 3 Chloe - Yet what need of recording a prediction, that the first of ’44 shall find me true in heart to her, and as ardent in hope for her dear sake and the future, as at this moment? (11-12)

 

February 7. [He has this to say of Gen. Lewis Cass] He belongs to the second rank of our public men, yet his pretensions to the Presidency are daily becoming more prominent and feasible. He has been a popular and influential Minister to France – his descriptions of its King Court and Government have been read with universal pleasure and interest, and in the present confusion of the political Cauldron, it is deemed that his name may have the effect of soothing its raging elements. His chief merit is a negative one. Sheltered by his official situation and duties at Paris, he is identified with no party – no special policy, and is perfectly free from the embittered associations of the last five years. (13)

 

February 25. A frightful accident occurred this evening. A Pork House near the canal on Tenth St took fire, and was followed by an explosion of the gas, engendered from the vast quantities of lard, which flung the roof of the building into the crowded street, killing several, and wounding many others. (14)

 

He later reports that eight have died, others injured, and that a sense of gloom hangs over the town. 

 

“The wrath of God.” 

He makes the first of several entries dealing with William Miller, a devout expert on the Bible. Miller made a careful study of every line, and warned that the math showed that the Second Coming of Jesus and the end of the world were near. His warnings aroused thousands of Americans to take stock of their souls, and prepare for Doomsday. The Millerites published two newspapers in Cincinnati in these years, The Jubilee Trumpet and The Western Midnight Cry. 

March 1: The Miller delusion has its victims (the word is better than “converts”) here, as well as in the Eastern cities. (15)

 

April 20 (Thursday): For two weeks I have been “dawdling” (to use a word introduced to the language under the auspices of Fanny Kemble) at the Court House. On the whole, it is no waste of time. … There is a dramatic interest attending a trial before a jury, or an argument to the Court, which stimulates attention and reinforces the recollection. [One day he sees Chief Jockosot in native dress.] He carried his tomahawk in his hands. I hear that he is proceeding east, accompanied by two trained buffaloes, for the purpose of public exhibition, and will proceed to England.

 

April 23. This is the day, when our ears were to be greeted by the “crack of doom,” if Miller had donned the prophetic mantle. But its hours are speeding in safety to their bourn, and the curtain of time has not dropped over the world. (16-18)

 

May 13. Some one says truly, “God made the country and man made the town.” (19)

 

June 14. [From a high hill, west of the city, in “a very small village” called Cheviot, Taylor looks down at the Ohio River Valley.] From the hill that overhangs the valley of Cincinnati at this point, the prospect eastward is very imposing. We were looking down upon an immense amphitheatre perhaps destined to contain a million of people. (21)

 

Taylor spends part of a Sunday at a display of flowers. On the corner of Third Street and Vine, he passes the office where the newspapers of William Miller, spreading the word of the worlds’ end, are published. 

I glanced in, and there were seated several sinister-looking fellows, as lugubrious as the fate they are predicting. One was reading aloud, and I overheard a single phrase, “the wrath  of God.” I could not help contrasting the two scenes – the floral, and the fanatical.

 

Apropos, the Millerites have leased for several weeks the church across the way, and hold nightly their doom-denouncing meetings there. I have not attended them, but they cram our ears against the stomach of our success, from dusk till ten o’clock. (22)

 

The diarist also runs into Rees Evans Price, a dedicated preacher, who Taylor notes believes “he should never die.” 

He is expecting daily, the advent of a third Adam, a precursor of the Messiah, a prophet something like John the Baptist, who is to change the moral surface of the Globe, and whom he calls “the Ancient of days” described in the 72d Psalm. The great events, plagues, overthrows, signs & wonders, to ensue, and precede, the final coming of Christ, and running through a period of a thousand years, is the burden of Prices mission of prophecy, for which he claims the high authority of direct inspiration. He has the Bible on his tongues end and I listen to his rhapsodies with considerable interest.

 

In 1872, a writer would note that Price could talk, “not by the hour only, but the day and night.” (81) 

Taylor also crosses paths again with Jockosot, 

…a Sac or Fox Indian, who has been in Cincinnati for several months in full costume, had become intoxicated in a low Jewish tavern across the street, and becoming clamorous, was turned out of doors. This aroused all his fury, and he grew so outrageous, that an attempt was made to take him before the Mayor. He resisted, and for half an hour, his struggles with four or five athletic men, were tremendous. He swayed back & forth – roaring out his war songs in the madness of his rage. He was at length overpowered, after the most Herculean resistance and was dragged down Vine St, muttering fearful imprecations, as his head drooped forward over his breast – Completely exhausted by his intense muscular exertion. Poor fellow! the doom of his race is upon him! (23)

 

June 15. Twenty years ago great numbers of silver eels were caught in the streams of Butler Co, although now they are seldom found. Mr. S. was very fond of them, and whenever he attended court at Hamilton, secured if possible his favorite dish. (24)

 

June 28. It is a very warm night. I dread the thought of retiring to my rest. My windows are open, and a strange medley of sounds greets my ears. Across the way, a fanatical Millerite is bellowing wrath and destruction to a crowded room. The pavements ring with the tread of numbers, returning from Shires garden [ a theater] – carriages rattle by, and about an hour since, I heard a crier, calling a “lost child,” but my lamp is waning. (25)

 

On July 2, Taylor went to hear speakers talk about the future of Oregon. Richard M. Johnson, the man famed for killing Tecumseh, was featured. He spoke in a “very energetic” fashion. “The crowd was too unwashed for a warm afternoon, and I soon escaped to purer air.” (27) 

(On July 3, the Cincinnati Gazette could warn visitors to the city, for the Fourth of July celebration: “The pickpockets will undoubtedly have a strong delegation here, and we advise every one to keep a sharp lookout for his money and papers, and pocket his watch, and watch his pocket too.”) 

On July 4, he goes to hear speakers celebrate the day. “The military parade was very much as usual, with the addition of clouds of light dust, which attended the march of the Companies.” The colonel of the militia regiment “galloped back and forth,” making quite a show, “with hat off, and a very fierce look on.” 

One speaker read the Declaration of Independence, which was “well recieved [sic] and applauded at the close.” 

Before they commenced Rees E. Price, a poor religious lunatic, whom I have mentioned before in this diary, was haranguing the crowd upon the advent of the “Ancient of days,” despite of interruptions, hootings and jeers, and when Telford was about commencing, Price, who had clomb into a tree so as to be nearly on a level with the balcony [from which the speakers were addressing the crowd], broke forth into a loud demand “by what authority the people were gathered together” etc. With some difficulty he was quieted, and he made no interruption, until the close of the oration, when he could no longer be restrained, and began raving upon his usual topics, at the top of his lungs. How [well] this little incident represents the existence and extent of a morbid fanaticism in the community at this time. 

 

“Nine runaway slaves.” 

Taylor mentions Mrs. Elizabeth Sellman, “a widow lady, who although advanced in years, is sprightly, jocose, straight as a candle, and remarkably good-looking.” Her husband, he adds, “was the surgeon at Fort Washington, which once occupied the site of Cincinnati, and her residence here commenced in 1796.” (29) 

July 9. [He visits the Circuit Court.] Several important cases have grown out of the common practice of harboring and facilitating the escape of slaves from their masters in Kentucky. Although such precautions are usually observed, that no clue is left for the recovery of the fugitives, or the punishment of their confederates, still an occasional instance occurs, in which some incautious abolitionist is so connected with the affair, that a civil suit for damages is brought and sustained. Such a case is now on trial before Judge McLean. A Mr [John] Van Zandt on the morning of April 24 ’42 took into his market wagon, by concert with Cincinnati abolitionists, nine runaway slaves, and had proceeded some thirty miles toward Lebanon, when he was stopped, and the negroes restored to their master and the Plaintiff in this action, under the act of Congress of 1792 [1793]. These circumstances, beside his confessions at the time he was thus intercepted, leave little or no doubt, that Van Z., who seems a weak, simple-minded, fanatical man, will be amerced in heavy damages, although only one of the negroes finally escaped, and proved a total loss. Several of the witnesses have caused considerable merriment in Court. One fellow said, that on Sunday morning (April 24)  he saw Van Z. running his wagon on the Lebanon turnpike, and “I told him that it didn’t look well, for a man that belonged to the meetin, to be running horses on Sunday. He was always lecturing me on my bad deeds, and I thought I’d lecture him.” “What had he lectured you about?” asked the Counsel for the defence. “That’s none of your concern!” “But you must tell all” – persisted [Salmon P.] Chase. The opposite Counsel then interfered – the lawyers exchanged pros and cons, and the Judge was gravely proceeding to decide the point, when the witness broke in. “Wal! If you want to hear it, I’ll tell – I’m agreeable! but” he added with the coolest nonchalance “it’ll keep you here a week any how!” The Judge cut the precious narrative short. The city is full of influenza, which has been very severe and prevalent at the east, but is less so [here] – it is called the grippe and by some the Tyler grippe, from the fact that its being at its height during the Presidents late tour to Boston. (30)

 

July 13. The Van Zandt case has at length close, with a verdict against the defendant of $1200. I confess to a feeling of regret at this result. My sympathies had become gradually enlisted in behalf of the poor fellow, whose whole conduct had grown out of opinions and feelings, with which every freeman must sympathise.

 

Strolling in the street this evening, I analysed the sounds, that filled the air. Music was the chief ingredient – at the Jews tavern hard by, in German – from the piano & voices in Mr. Jones parlor etc. Thus it is every where, these warm evenings, in Cincinnati. (34)

 

(The case of Van Zandt eventually went to the U.S. Supreme Court, Jones v. Van Zandt, where he was again defeated.) 

Walking along Vine Street with a friend named J. H. Bates one day, the two men spy “a pair of formidable French corsets” in a shop window. Taylor reports that they were “fringed with lace” and “immediately arrested our attention.” They stood gazing at the undergarments for a moment – in awe. 

At length Bates broke forth – “Good heavens!” said he, “is that the material of which women are made?” (33) 

On another occasion, Taylor hears a story about a little boy who, becoming angry with his mother for some reason, exclaimed, “Ma! I wish my father had never married you!” (34) 

July 19. We have had an interesting spectacle in the streets to day. The Wyandot Indians, about 700 in number, the last relic of a tribe in the North western part of the state, in removing beyond the Miss[is]sippi, passed through Cincinnati. There are some fine figures among them but most look low and brutal. They are half civilized, and their costume is not aboriginal mainly, although occasionally may be seen a trace of Indian finery – the women wearing hats, with tin bands and feathers. They leave tonight in two steamboats, chartered to take them to the Upper Miss[is]sippi. I hear that that many of them were dead-drunk on the landing this afternoon. They are the last of their unfortunate race in Ohio. A half-century has seen them completely supplanted and removed. (35-36)

 

July 23. [Taylor has a talk with] Gen. Price, the religious monomaniac, whom I have mentioned before in my diary. … I took some pains to draw him out. I satisfied myself, that he believes, that the “Ancient of days” will set up his spiritual kingdom on the banks of the Ohio, and is none other than his inspired self. He is sure that he is of Jewish extraction, among other reasons, because he “abominates swines flesh.” He insists that the “dispensation of the fullness of times” has come, in which, the law of human food as given to Adam in the garden of Eden, is binding upon all. This prohibits the use of animal food, “of anything that has ever had life,” but allows of vegetables. I remarked to him, that at this season of the year, his table would be well supplied, as I supposed that he would partake freely of all the fruits etc. now offered in Market. “Yes!” he replied, “all except the apple.”

 

Price also warns Taylor that tobacco is an abomination, and “that no one who uses the filthy weed can enter the kingdom of Heaven.” (36-37) 

Another day, the diarist passes by an open door and hears a speaker – in German – explaining to “a roomful of persons” a plan to move to Missouri. Ten thousand acres have already been purchased, “which are to be worked in common for several years, and when the whole is thus improved – then it is to be divided in equal portions by lot. A modified kind of Fourierism – or rather an imitation of the settlement at Zoar in this state.” (38) 

July 28. We have had a short visit, of a day and night from a Mr Riley [sic] of Hamilton – an old man of 80. He is beloved in the region of his residence, and remarked, that he was on the site of Cincinnati in 1789, when this valley was covered with beech trees, and a few cabins were placed in the openings of them, where they had been cut down. And all this within the experience of one man! (38) 

 

“Mob City.” 

August 2. A fellow by the name of [D. P.] Scanlan, traveling northward, was attended by a mulatto girl [Lavinea], his slave, who was decoyed away by abolitionists. For the last week, S. has been publishing in the daily newspapers and in handbills, silly complaints of this usage – yet appealing in an inflammatory manner, to the prejudices against abolition, of the people. His intention was at length consummated. Day before yesterday, a meeting was called in the Fifth St Market house at 5 P.M. Some 5 or 6000 were present. Several gentlemen addressed them, most of them, including the Mayor, deprecating violence, and urging the crowd to disperse. All this was in vain, for the numbers continued to increase until 8 o’clock when the mob attacked the windows and doors of one [Cornelius] Burnet[t], who keeps a confectionery shop, north side of Fifth St, between Vine and Walnut, so that the scene of this violence was but a few rods from Mr Stones. Just before dark, I was a passing under the building and was warned to keep away, and teams (next morning being market) were not suffered to stand in front of the doomed premises. A vast crowd filled the area, but these disgraceful proceedings were allowed to proceed uninterrupted till 10 o’clock, when the Mayor with a small police, made a sally, arrested several ring-leaders, and succeeded in securing them in the Watch House. Previously however, the windows had been demolished, and doors broken in, but a few of the mob, who attempted to rush forward through the breach, recieved [sic] rather warm greeting from above, in the form of boiling hot molasses, which was precipitated upon their heads. The rumor was prevalent that armed men were within, and the city authorities about this time beginning to wake from their stupor, the throng seems satisfied for the present with the effect of their missiles and dispersed. Next morning some 2000 people again assembled in front of Burnet[t]s and were becoming riotous, but the Peace officers were more numerous and efficient, and various arrests being made, the mob was cowed. By this time, the city had become alarmed, and the “horse having been stolen,” the authorities thought it necessary to show their “tardy promptitude,” by “locking the stable door.” …

 

Thus ends another of those outbreaks, which are fascinating on Cincinnati the unenviable soubriquet of the “mob city.”

 

(As editor Dunn notes, in just six years, Cincinnati had been rocked by mob violence three times: James G. Birney’s abolitionist printing press was destroyed in 1836. There were Irish-Negro battles in 1841, and a bank riot in 1842.) 

[Scanlan continues to issue handbills, calling for “justice.”] The mob must, it seems, be spurred on until he can get the girl in his clutch again. I hope in conscience that his folly will not meet a reward, so acceptable to his covetousness.

 

The abolitionists have no doubt been equal in meanness, but the opposite faction, the mobocratic, are equally and more to blame. I have no doubt that the Court would decide the girl free, if she was voluntarily brought within the state. But we shall see the issue of all this! (39-40) 

 

, “Farewell Ohio, and her Brave!” 

August 6. An interesting incident is told of the Wyandots. While passing North Bend – the machinery of the boat was stopped, the tribe were gathered on the deck, facing the tomb of [William Henry] Harrison and remained uncovered while the current bore them past the spot. The silence was unbroken, until the Chief stepped forward, and with a parting gesture, exclaimed, “Farewell Ohio, and her Brave!” A cannon on board uttered a salute, the boat shot forward, and thus ended a scene, more fraught with poetic association, than often comes within our observation. (41)

 

September 10. Thursday afternoon I went to Hamilton by the packet – leaving here at 3 P.M. & arriving at H. by 10. Our route, while the daylight allowed of observation, lay through the Valley of the Mill-Creek. On each side of the canal extended rich and highly cultured bottoms, terminating in uplands of more diversified surface. I took tea on board, not only without nausea, but with considerable relish and approval – wiled the tedium of canal travel by reading “Nina” F[redrika] Bremers last novel, and amused myself at other times by the conversation of the Captain and my fellow passengers. The fare for a distance of 29 miles was only 75 cents. Hamilton is a pleasant, but quiet village. The streets are wide, and laid out with taste. In the center of the town, is an enclosed square, where stand the county buildings – very good structures. A fine bridge is thrown across the Miami River, and leading to the village of Rossville, which is even more populous and compact than Hamilton. There appears to be little stir in these places, but great expectations are entertained of benefits to be derived from an immense water power, obtained by damming the Miami River a few miles above, and which can be made available in several parts of the town, for the propulsion of an indefinite amount of machinery. (46)

 

September 21. Mr Guilford is about starting a new Whig daily paper, to be called the “Cincinnati Daily Atlas.” (48) 

 

“Millerism as a delusion.” 

Septr 25. Yesterday I went with Mr Jones to the place where the Miller tent is outspread. It covers an area of 200 feet in diameter, and will contain an immense crowd. While I was on the ground, it was thronged by thousands. … I remained among the Millerites the whole morning, interested by the appearance of the crowd, and listening with considerable interest to a sermon from a Mr [George] Storrs … About a year since I examined the subject, and satisfied my own mind, that these apprehensions are premature and groundless. All these lecturers assume that the power of the Church of Rome (Anti-Christ) was completely broken, overthrown in 1798. They must assume this, or all subsequent predictions have nothing to rest on. The fact is far otherwise. Almost within sight of their encampment, are going up the walls of a splendid Catholic Cathedral – a rebuke to their assumption, that the Downfall of the Roman religion occurred in the last century. This fact is sufficient to stamp Millerism as a delusion. (48-49) 

 

“Professionally, and avowedly, a flirt.” 

January 18, 1844: For four months, Taylor fails to update his diary. By this time, former President John Quincy Adams has visited the city. Taylor had been able to watch him pass below in the street, as he looked out the window of the home where he was staying. Adams, he notes, rode in an open carriage, the November sun “glinting” off “his shining bald head.” The diarist traveled to Columbus, hoping to improve his business prospects – perhaps join a law firm there. He mentions meeting “a Miss Lizzy Hensley,” a quick-witted girl, “an inexhaustible talker,” a young lady of “considerable although not remarkable beauty, and professionally, and avowedly, a flirt.” 

He is actually more impressed with her sister, Mrs. Starling, a married woman, intelligent, refined, and an interesting conversationalist. Yet, her figure has “grown out of all proportion – even her face has not escaped the effects of obesity.” Had his heart not been true to Chloe, he writes, he would have lost it to Mrs. Starling, “a woman that would weigh down three of me.” (52) 

February 12: [The] German population is increasing among us, to an unprecedented degree. They are very industrious plodding people, they have stability of character – much goodness of heart, and many social virtues. I feel kindly toward them, and will not allow myself to auger evil from their presence here. (54) 

(The area north of the canal in Cincinnati – the canal now replaced by Central Parkway, became known as “Over-the-Rhine,” due to the heavy concentration of immigrants in that location.) 

February 15. [Taylor reports that a small garden on the corner of Fourth and Walnut streets is being dug up.] It was owned by the First Presbyterian Church, and has recently been sold, and is being excavated, preparatory to building. I have interested myself in my daily walks, by noting the progress of what most would call improvement, but which seems to me very like spoilation. It seems that long since, that part of town was consecrated as a grave-yard, and many of the bones of early settlers have been exhumed and cast rudely forth, since this excavation commenced. I paused one day to look at some of these disturbed relics. A silent group were contemplating them, – all subdued into a reverent feeling of awe. I passed on, and so probably did they, forgetting too soon in some other engrossment, both the profanation, and its morality. (56)

 

March 23. The “end of the world” is expected to day, according to Miller’s horoscope, but so far (10 A.M.) every thing remains in statu quo – “no signs of wo, that all is lost,” so far as I have observed... (57) 

 

“The ball now set in motion, must roll its course.” 

April 4. [There is great interest in the town, regarding the possible annexation of Texas by treaty with Mexico.] Present indications are that the Constitutional majority of the Senate cannot be obtained to such a treaty, but the South is favoring the project – our interest points the same way and it is only the prevalence of an anti-slavery sentiment, and a reluctance on the part of the north, to increase the political predominance of the slave power in the Senate of the Union, which prevents the country adopting the measure by acclamation. It occupies the public mind to the exclusion of other political topics. I think that the friends of annexation will only exert themselves to postpone the consideration of the subject, and thus make it the great question before the people, during the next Presidential election.

 

… Provided always that the people of Texas desire annexation, the ball now set in motion, must roll its course… (58)

 

[He mentions an incident from April 1.] ... I was walking along Walnut Street, when my attention was arrested by the cry of a boy in great distress. It was so piercing – so agonized, that all who were passing stopped, and some hurried to the spot. Windows were thrown hastily open, and the neighborhood, having probably a proprietary right in a good many children, seemed thoroughly aroused. This was all our young actor desired, who bursting into a loud laugh, with a shout of “April fool,” scampered round a corner, sound in life, lungs, and limb. I witnessed several such pranks – among others, pulling a door bell – then retreating across the street, and greeting the servant by whom the door was opened, with a yell of derision. (59)

 

Taylor often mentions hiking out into the countryside for pleasure, sometimes to get away from the heat and dust of the city. On one hike, across the river, in Kentucky, he and a friend started from New Port [ now Newport], a village which he describes as “the most dilapidated – the most desolate, that I have ever encountered.” He and J. W. Ryland reach the top of a hill, where they enjoy a view of the Ohio River, and Cincinnati across the way. On their return they happen upon the cabin of an Irishman, “where we were furnished with a draught of water, declining our hosts hospitable offer of grog, praised his blue eyed children, which he pronounced ‘fresh from the Green isle’ – returned to New Port - recrossed the river, and reached home at sunset.” 

He also reports on the efforts of a Major James F. Conover to win the heart a Miss Norton. The Major is “about 50 years old,” the young woman, it seems, much younger. But 

… he could not have been more violently enamored. It showed itself at the most ludicrous times and places. The presence of others could not restrain the ardor of the Major – his manner was full of empressment, his eye of tender entreaty, as if meeting her “by moonlight, alone.” Indeed, I am told that he made a declaration in the crowd at Shires garden, and on the stage – probably for the dramatic effect. At any rate the scene had quite a numerous audience. I passed them about that time, and was struck with the Major’s supplicatory manner. Mrs Wright tells me, that although not accepted, and indeed meeting a rather discouraging reception, he still pressed a ring on Miss N. by dropping it in her lap, and on her refusing to take it up, remarking that “she might give it to the dogs,” for he should never touch it. Miss N. must have been very much flattered by the Majors avowing such a “second choice.” Miss Norton returned to Cleveland some four months ago – unengaged – yet having given Conover some encouragement. His presents were mostly accepted, and the Major followed them up with some very impassioned and elaborate correspondence. The siege has been so vigorously conducted, that he hopes now to carry the citadel by storm, and with that doughty resolution, has gone, trundling…[off] to Cleveland. What his success will be, remains to be seen, although the Wrights argue favorably for the Major. The town is gossiping away, very industriously, on the subject. He has lately built a fine house on 4th, lighted it with gas, furnished it tastefully, and now only needs a beautiful piece of statuary, to complete his decorations. … But enough of this love affair. A whole page, as I live, is already occupied with it, but as I have few opportunities of catching such a bit of gossip, I must arrest this one. (59-61) 

 

Taylor passes the examination to become a lawyer – but struggles to find a partner, and set up a law practice. He talks about his “straightened circumstances,” and groans, “If I had a $1000, or even $500, I would open an office immediately.” He considers writing to ask his friend, Charles A. Loomis, to leave Columbus behind, and come to Cincinnati, “bringing with him sufficient capital as furnished by his father, and we together open an office.” 

Neither this plan, nor several others come to fruition. (63) 

May 2. We were abroad, yesterday afternoon, despite my foreboding. It was a pleasant escape from the streets of a city, hot and filled with dust, to the fresh and grateful air of the country. We went up Race St, until we encountered a bold ascent beyond the canal, whose summit was fringed with woods. This we breasted, and rambled for some hours among the trees, which stand thick and stately, shadowing a large tract, whose surface is pleasantly diversified with hill & dale. Every part of the forest was vocal with the laughter of children, grouped pleasantly in every direction, with swings suspended from the branches of trees – their dinner baskets showing that the frolic had been afoot ever since morning. We rambled from party to party, drinking from the springs that gush forth at the bottom of the ravines – avoiding the young men and ladies, many of whom were out, but dashing into the freest acquaintances with the children – throwing ourselves upon the grass or fallen trunks – chatting, criticizing, speculating, on every possible subject.

 

Taylor has given much thought to the idea that Texas would be annexed – but wondered why the Texans would want it. 

But why will the Texans consent to this suicidal annexation. They might run a Southern line across the Continent, making California their great Western province, and thus build up a Republic, whose political weight would soon be felt in the great family of nations. (68)

 

May 3. We have the Texas Treaty and Tyler’s message by to-day’s mail. These documents first saw the light at New-York, surreptitiously obtained from Washington. The treaty is as was expected – Texas annexed as a territory – debt of $10,000,000 assumed, the vacant lands being relied upon as a fund to pay it, etc.

 

May 13. Mr. Chapin is here with thirteen of his pupils, including the two Chinese girls. He gives a concert this evening.

 

May 14. I attended Mr Chapins exhibition of the blind last evening. It was intensely interesting. The exercises in mental mathematics, including problems in the abstruser rules of Algebra – the articles of their manufacture – writing and reading by raised letters – music, instrumental and vocal – all were wonderful. There were few present, owing to the inclemency of the night, but those were delighted, and I foresee that by the ensuing Concerts (for several are to be given) public attention and interest will be very much aroused. (70)

 

(William Chapin was superintendent of the Ohio Institute for the Education of the Blind (1840-1846). 

May 17. Every thing is dark – uncertain in my future – the various schemes which I have been indulging, prove baseless. …

 

I called night before last, on Taft and his family – passed a pleasant evening – talking politics with Mr. T. and chit-chat with the ladies. Mrs. T. has a younger sister with her, a good looking girl – made rather unfashionable however, and with little or no manner.

 

June 1. I supped with young [George Hunt] Pendleton last evening. … We had a sumpt[u]ous feast of strawberries and ice cream, pine apple, and wines. The evening passed pleasantly, until we left at midnight. (71)

 

June 3. News came yesterday by the river that James K. Polk was nominated for Prest and Silas Wright for Vice. … That he will be elected, no one can expect. The success of Mr Clay, it seems to me, is made certain by this selection.

 

10 A.M. Since writing the above, I learn that Silas Wright declines the nomination. Morses Magnetic Telegraph is constructed between Washington & Baltimore, by means of which, communication can be had instantaneously between the two cities. When the nominations were thus transmitted to Washington, Mr. Wright immediately replied by telegraph, that he could not accept. … By today’s boats, we may hear something further.

 

(Edward L. Morse would later write that, “The conventions at Baltimore happened most opportunely for the display of the powers of the Telegraph.” (85) 

5 P.M. The foregoing rumor turns out to be true. Mr. Wright persisted in his declension, and the convention, which had not yet adjourned, nominated G.M. Dallas of Pennsylvania – a man as inferior, to several of those named in the ballotings, as Polk is to Van Buren or Calhoun. … There was a Tyler convention at the same time in Baltimore. They went through the farce of nominating the acting-President. (72)

 

June 8. Looking over these pages, I am struck with the difference in tone, between these concluding passages and my first buoyant entries, so sanguine with the hopes and schemes of success. I trust that Chloe, if she ever peruses this record, will not think too contemptuously of me, because it is so. (73)

 

June 13. The Texas Treaty is rejected – 13 to 35 – I am not sorry. It outraged too palpably our peaceful relations with Mexico, and the accompanying correspondence was flagrant in its character, making our Government the propagandist of slavery. (72-73)

 

July 4. I hope to leave for home next week. I shall make an arrangement with Mr. Miner, by which I shall place myself in funds. Whether I shall remain here or go to Toledo, is uncertain.

 

… I am not well – listless – certainly in no mood for diary keeping.

 

August 19. I am sitting in Mr. Langfords parlor in Westmoreland [New York], the hand of dear Chloe linked in mine, and certain eyes, the brightest and best-loved in the world contriving to decipher these characters as I write.

 

Another potential opening in a budding law firm fails to materialize, though Taylor waits in New York for a month, hoping for a letter. With Chloe by his side, his disappointment, he writes, is “much alleviated by the mutual affection and confidence, that exists between us.” 

At the end of September, he returned to Cincinnati, where he will remain for several more years, and bring his new bride in 1845.

Native Americans battle a grizzly bear.