There was
loud talk of war at and after the great Pine Street meeting of
December 15. South Carolina seceded, five days later, and then we
knew what was coming, albeit, we saw only the dim shadow of
that mighty struggle that was to shake the earth for nearly five
years. The Printer grew highly irritable those days and spoke of
Buchanan and Davis and Toombs in language so violent it could
never have been confined in type. But while a bitter foe none was
more generous than he and, when the war was over, his money
went to bail the very man he had most roundly damned.
I remember that one day, when he was sunk deep in composition, a
negro came and began with grand airs to make a request as
delegate from his campaign club. The Printer sat still, his eyes
close to the paper, his pen flying at high speed. The coloured
orator went on lifting his voice in a set petition. Mr Greeley bent to
his work as the man waxed eloquent. A nervous movement now
and then betrayed the Printer's irritation. He looked up, shortly, his
face kindling with anger.
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