A good example now occurs of those numerous bitter and cruel newspaper attacks on Forrest, elicited by his great professional success, his prominence before the public, and his brusque individuality. A paper, fitly called "The Subterranean,"—edited by a brawling politician named Mike Walsh,—whose motto was "Independent in everything, neutral in nothing," published an article, a column in length, the substance of which was as follows:

"William Leggett.—His Widow.—Disgraceful Conduct of Ned Forrest.—Ingratitude of the Democracy.

"Leggett, like ourselves, battled boldly against all the power and corruption of the Democratic party, and untiringly strove to achieve a radical reform in its abuses. The purity of his principles proved fatal to him. He was hunted and baited while living, the same as we have been since his death, by every paltry and polluted scoundrel whose grasping avarice is likely to be affected by the elevation of the destitute and forlorn portion of their fellow-men.

"If battling for the oppressed and degraded portion of the human family is to subject a man, while living, to want, misery, ingratitude, and persecution, and to embitter his dying moments with the knowledge that when dead his family will be left destitute in a selfish world,—receiving the sneers of his enemies and the neglect of his friends,—you will find but few possessed of sufficient courage to tread so thorny, cheerless, and disheartening a path.

"We know not how to characterize the conduct of Ned Forrest in this matter. Leggett found him in an obscurity from which he never could have emerged by any effort of his own. With a magnanimous generosity peculiar to men of great minds, he tendered the use of his intellect and purse. Forrest gladly accepted it; and to that aid is he chiefly indebted for the immense fortune which he has subsequently acquired. Mrs. Leggett called on him the other day, and with a cold, heartless, hell-born ingratitude, which we would have scarcely expected from the most irredeemable hunker in existence, he treated her as though she were the greatest stranger on earth,—refusing the common civility due even to a stranger."

The purpose of this outrageous libel was a political one. It was designed to break down the popularity of the favorite actor with the New York Democracy, who were then again talking of bringing him into official life. Walsh wished to make him unavailable as a candidate, so as to keep the way open for another. In accordance with the programme, means were taken to stir up indignation and excitement to mobocratic pitch. It was noised abroad that there would be a riot. The theatre, for the first time in years when he played, was but half full, and with very few ladies. But Mrs. Forrest, with Mrs. Leggett at her side, and a few other lady friends, were in a front box. When the player came forward as the curtain rose, there was dead silence. Instead of beginning the performance, he addressed the audience:

"Ladies and Gentlemen,—Allow me to say a few words to you in vindication of myself from a slanderous attack which has been made upon me by an obscene paper called 'The Subterranean,' and repeated by the 'Herald,' the characteristics of which print I will not shock your feelings by naming. To those who know me personally, I trust it is unnecessary for me to repel such foul aspersions, but to those who do not know me, I beg leave to submit the following very short letter:

"'New York, October 30th, 1843.

"'My dear Friend,—I have seen with surprise and astonishment in the 'New York Herald' of to-day an article which purports to be an extract from a certain print published in this city, and said to be edited by a Mr. Walsh; and I have no hesitation in declaring every charge contained therein, so far as regards yourself, to be entirely false. Yours,

"'Elmira Leggett.'