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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.
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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.
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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.
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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!"