CHAPTER IX.

STEUBENVILLE ANECDOTES AND REMINISCENCES.

Stanton's practise being now almost exclusively in the higher courts of Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Virginia, he was compelled to seek a larger base from which to carry it on. Therefore, in 1847, he established headquarters in Pittsburg. Before following him thither some further reminiscences of him at home will be given.

At the first meeting of the Steubenville city council, in January, 1847, an ordinance was adopted creating the office of city solicitor, and Stanton was next moment unanimously elected to the position. The city was infested with a rough and dangerous element from the Ohio River, and petty crimes were numerous. The public rose up and invoked his aid in quelling the disorder. He responded effectually. At the first trial of delinquents after his appointment, there was a great gathering of malefactors in court. With a rasping hiss, waving his hand over the noisome crowd, he called them the "rats of Steubenville," and declared that he intended to "trap and exterminate them all." The name of "rats" clung to them for years; but Stanton soon drove them to their lairs and brought the city back to comparative security.

On March 8, 1847, he was elected a director of the Fire Department and, dressed in the regulation belt and blouse of a fireman, rode a fine horse at the head of the annual procession, as marshal of the day. In June, 1847, he made the address of welcome to Captain McCook's "Steubenville Greys" on their return from the Mexican war.

The Reverend Samuel Longden of Greencastle, Indiana, relates the following:

A young man named Burney, who was a member of my church, employed Mr. Stanton to bring suit against Dr. Barnes, for malpractise. The case primarily was that of luxation of the knee-joint backwards. The surgeon treated the young man for fracture of the tibia, and continued the mistreatment until the patient was crippled for life. When the trial came on Mr. Stanton had in court the bones of the human leg in normal and

many abnormal conditions. He had spent several days in the office of Dr. Thomas Cummings studying fractures, dislocations, and general surgery, and was able to put the expert witnesses all to rout. He was clear, masterful, and convincing. The jury believed him implicitly, for he was an honest man. In my long career I have never heard from the rostrum, the pulpit, or the bar such absolutely convincing argument and forcible oratory as I heard from Edwin M. Stanton before he was thirty years of age. They tell me that in court, warring for his clients, he was sometimes like an iron avalanche; but I must aver that in society he was as sweet and gracious and altogether as attractive as any man I ever met, and a good man, too.

Dr. B. Mears, a physician of Steubenville, reported that he had delivered Rectina McKinley, spinster, of a child. Stanton, in her behalf, brought suit against the doctor for slander, recovering one thousand dollars damages. Shortly after the money was due on execution, but previous to its payment, William Ralston, a thrifty bachelor, married Miss McKinley. After the marriage, Ralston called upon Stanton.

"Well, Billy," said Stanton, who knew him well, "you married Rectina and you have a good wife."

"Yes, I believe I have; and I am calling to see if you have collected the Mears claim."

"Yes, Billy, it's all paid in. You now have a good wife. I have proved to the world that she is without a blemish. I charged only one thousand dollars for sending her out of court with a good character. A judgment of one thousand dollars as a bait to catch a good husband, such as I believe you to be, is cheap, cheap as dirt." So he kept the one thousand dollars, but Ralston, after that, never was friendly to lawyers.

Valentine Owesney, a provision merchant of Steubenville, was robbed of about five hundred dollars in cash. A certain character was suspected, arrested, and put upon trial, He was defended by Stanton and acquitted, and immediately afterward disappeared. Shortly after his disappearance, Stanton walked into Owesney's store and, throwing down three hundred dollars in cash, observed that now he had paid what he had been owing. Owesney, an honest German, was nonplussed, for Stanton owed him nothing, and inquired the meaning of the performance. Stanton explained that the man arrested for robbing the store and acquitted was really guilty. "I cleared him," said he, "got back the money and sent him out of the country. I gave him fifty dollars to travel on; about one hun

dred dollars was used in the expense of the trial; I have kept fifty dollars for my fee and here is the remainder, which is your share.”

The Reverend James L. Vallandigham of Newark, Delaware, who was practising law at New Lisbon, Ohio, when Stanton was admitted to the bar, says:

A controversy that gained much fame for Stanton arose from the effort of disaffected members of the Economy Society of Beaver County, Pennsylvania, to dissolve and wind up the association. He appeared for the insurgent members and at the lower trials, by his matchless skill as a lawyer and profound exposition of the true economics of industrial and religious life, won successive verdicts. His knowledge of religion and the Bible was so great that the elders of the Economy Society believed he was, or had been, a regularly ordained minister of the gospel.

Joseph M. Rickey of Cleveland, Ohio, contributes the following:

Mr. Stanton and Roderick S. Moodey, an attorney of distinguished ability, conducted a trial in the old court-house when I was deputy clerk. Moodey, after examining a witness, turned him over to Stanton, who opened on him a raking fire of questions. Moodey, in sympathy for the wounded feelings of his witness, turned to Stanton and remonstrated. Stanton, in a gutteral tone, ordered Moodey to make his appeal to the Court and "quit whining." Moodey retorted: “I don't think a whine is any worse than a bark"-giving peculiar emphasis to the word "bark" in imitation of the bull-dog voice of Stanton. Quickly and imperiously Stanton replied: "Oh, yes, Mr. Moodey, there is a difference-dogs bark and puppies whine." Moodey was bursting with rage. The court, seeing the rising storm, adjourned. Moodey returned during the recess and paced the corridors. As soon as Stanton and his partner McCook appeared, arm-in-arm, Moodey flung his coat, and pounced onto Stanton with the fury of a panther. Spectacles, papers, and hat flew in all directions. In a moment the stalwart McCook snatched Moodey away and by-standers gathered up Stanton's scattered things. When court was called the case proceeded as if nothing had occurred. Stanton and Moodey soon became friends* and their intimacy grew warmer as they advanced in life.

During the winter of 1847, the community was pretty thoroughly stirred up over the performance of a traveling mesmerist named Wilson, who claimed to have supernatural powers, and Stanton was angry to think his townspeople could be gulled by such a mountebank. To prove the fraud, and that mesmerism or animal magnetism (now called hypnotism) was a common gift, differing in degree only as physical or mental strength differs in different

*When, in 1863, a law was enacted authorizing Stanton to appoint a solicitor of the War Department, he offered the position to Moodey.

persons, he gave a public exhibition, at which the people attended without price.

"I was present in a front seat," says Mrs. Davison Filson of Steubenville. "Calling for volunteer subjects, he put many 'to sleep' as it was called, and controlled them, bringing them out at will. One night, however, in Stier's Hall, he went too far in mesmerizing a man named Taylor, an employe of the paper mill. After controlling the subject for a time he failed to bring the usual return to consciousness. Repeated efforts resulted similarly, and the audience became frightened. However, after great exertion, Mr. Stanton succeeded in bringing the subject back to life, and that ended public exhibitions of mesmerism in Steubenville. It also exploded the idea that the stranger was a supernatural being-had 'help from on high'-and the people spent no more money on him."

Between Stanton's residence and the river stood a large factory for the production of glass. The soot, smoke, and cinders from its furnaces constituted an especial nuisance. Therefore, in 1847, he purchased the factory and the considerable tract of land on which it stood, and, after dismantling the works, built in its stead a house for his gardener, Alfred Taylor. Around the house he planted fruit and other trees, and laid out the finest garden ever seen in Steubenville. To this tract the Stantons gave the name of "The Patch." Although now subdivided by streets and alleys-one of which is Stanton Street-and covered with houses, that section of the city is still popularly described as "Stanton's Patch."

"The glass-house land was very rich and produced abundantly," says Alfred Taylor. "I not only had enough vegetables and fruits. from it for Mr. Stanton's large household, but much to sell. I produced there the first celery ever raised in Steubenville, and had also many novel plants and herbs. The fruit trees and vines comprised apples, peaches, quinces, plums, cherries, currants, pears, and grapes. The production of grapes was heavy, and sometimes we had hundreds of bushels of peaches beyond family requirements, for sale. They always brought a high price. Mr. Stanton had great pride in his garden. He loved a good table and wanted to produce as many of the luxuries as possible on his own land-not to save money, for he was earning large sums, but to secure a quality higher than that of any we could buy."

Besides his fruit trees, greenhouse, and a garden, he had a few high-grade young cattle which were a source of much satisfaction.

He often went to fondle them; and when the men were making hay, was delighted, toward evening, to help them "pitch on." Having a frame of great power, although unaccustomed to labor of that kind, he could lift a larger rick of hay than any of his men.

"Once, while pitching to the wagon," says Alfred Taylor, "Mr. Stanton broke a new white-ash fork's tail in an attempt to show how big a load he could lift. The tines of that fork I am using on my farm near Holiday's Cove, West Virginia. He loved, on arriving from Pittsburg and elsewhere, to come to the stable where we were milking and, seated on a hand-made milking-stool, talk about the stock and home affairs. The old stool is still in use in my stable." John Mullen of Columbus, Ohio, for years a tutor of dancing and music in Steubenville, was first an errand and house-boy and then hostler for Stanton. His recollections give a peculiarly interesting inside view of Stanton's life in Steubenville:

I came to Mr. Stanton early in 1847. I had lost my mother and in the fall father followed her. My heart was broken entirely. I had a sister, but she was young like myself, and what could we do alone in a strange country? I was moaning and crying when Mr. Stanton came to me and wiping away the tears with his soft silk handkerchief, said, oh, so kindly: "Never mind, Johnnie; I will be your father. You can live with me. I will care for and clothe you; send you to college and build a house for your sister." So I was comforted, for no one could have been more kind and loving than he was to me.

After the middle of 1847 Mr. Stanton spent only a portion of his time in Steubenville, but he kept his house and yard up beautifully, and as long as he lived called it home. In the yard were roses and many kinds of flowers which he loved, and the finest lawn ever seen in town. He said, "Always keep mother in money; give her what she wants." When we fell. short of money during Mr. Stanton's absence I went to Colonel McCook and got more. No one about the house wanted for anything. In fact, the neighbors thought that the young children of Stanton's sister and sister-inlaw, who lived with him, were too luxuriously provided for.

With himself Mr. Stanton was not so liberal. He smoked cigars and wore very good clothes, but had no other personal extravagances. His habits were of the very best. He had no wine on the table; did not keep it in the house. He belonged to no gay clubs and gave no time to pleasure. His clothing was always of very fine material but modestly made up, and in winter and on chilly evenings he wore a heavy military cloak. He was a princely-looking man, with dark, silken, flowing beard; very polite though reserved.

Sometimes, but not often, he drove out with his mother and sister and sister-in-law and the children; but generally Alfred Taylor was the family driver. The carriage was a large covered double-seated rig, and the