Bohemian Brigade; Civil War Newsmen in Action

Aldrich is mentioned to have shared sentiments with his friend Stedman when he "looked back with incredulity at his Bohemian days at Pfaff's."

Church is considered one of Clapp's "happy coterie"

Starr claims that one of the attractions of Pfaff's for newspaper reporters and artists for the weeklies was the opportunity to "pay homage to the 'Queen of Bohemia,' Ada Clare (5). Whitman called Clare "the new Woman," and had recently returned from a trip to Paris "aboard a steamer which bore the entry on its passenger list: Miss Ada Clare, and son." Starr quotes Clare's response: "'A Bohemian is not, like the creature of society, a victim of rules and customs,' she explained with candescent charm, 'he steps over them all with an easy, graceful, joyous unconsciousness'" (5).

Starr writes that Curtis, editor of Harper's Weekly, suggested privately during the attacks on the Tribune by the Herald "that Gay issue 'an edict that the existance of the Herald shall never be recognized in or by the Tribune in any way.'" He also proposed that Gay "let the worthy old Scot [Hudson] lie and rave as much as he likes...There are some animals that...cannot be touched or fought, for even if you hit and kill them they make you smell dreadfully" (235).

Congdon worked with Greeley at the Tribune.

Stedman and House were war correspondents together.

In William Dean Howell's opinion, it was as good to be published in the Saturday Press as it was to be published in the Atlantic Monthly, since despite one critic's claim that "man cannot live by snapping turtle alone," Howells admitted, in response, that "the Press was very good snapping turtle" (4-5).

In a discussion of the idea that "To be a Bohemian affored license for all manner of youthful exuberances," Starr quotes Howell's observations about the Bohemians on the night he visted Pfaff's: "[Howells} noted the arrival of a pair 'whom the others made a great clamor over; I was given to understand that they had just recovered from a fearful debauch'" (7).

Despite Starr's doubts that the Bohemians "resurrected" Poe for his artistic ability and more for his lifestyle, Starr does note that "Fitz-James O'Brien at his macabre best emulated Poe superbly" (5).

In a discussion of the idea that "To be a Bohemian affored license for all manner of youthful exuberances," Starr mentions that Aldrich (according to Starr,of the Tribune) and O'Brien ("known, for cause, at Pfaff's as 'Fists Gammon O'Bouncer'") "experimented at 'sleeping all day and living all night'"(7). Starr continues on about O'Brien's "youthful exuberances," calling him "improvident to a fault" and citing an incident where O'Brien picketed the office of Harper's (the bindery/publisher) with a sign reading "I AM STARVING" after being refused a loan. The publishers eventually gave in (7).

Starr writes that in the days prior to the Civil War, like many others in New York, the "Pfaffians were exposed increasingly to the clamour of a world beyond their ken. Something like a revolution was afoot in the realm of journalism, a revolution that would lift these light-hearted pranksters from their subterranean retreat ad whirl them in its vortex. Soon O'Brien, Aldrich, Thomson, Williams, and Stedman, together with others in Clapp's happy coterie--Charles G. Halpine (who stammered to fame at Pfaff's, speaking inadvertantly of 'H-H-Harriet Beseecher Bestowe'), William Conant Church, William Swinton, E.H. House, Charles Henry Webb, a couple of artists, Frank H. Bellew and Thomas Nast: in all more than half of the identifiable clientele at the Cave--would take the field along with hundreds of other youths of like mind to participate in the greatest undertaking in the history of journalism" (9).

Starr writes of the movements of the seventy-five thousand volunteers called for by Lincoln in the major Northern cities: "New York's beloved Seventh marched off amid pandemoneum on Broadway, Fitz-James O'Brien recording every step for the Tribune" (32).

During the riots of July 13-14, 1863, Ottarson is described by Starr as "Gay's first lieutennant" on the Tribune staff. When the mob advanced on the office, he was sent to find a policeman to arrest the leader of the mob who was calling for the downfall of the Tribune. The policeman arrived and promptly vanished. The mob dispursed shortly but returned in twenty minutes with larger numbers and would later break into the paper's offices (222).

Gay suspected Ottarson, England, and Wilkeson alternately of angling for his job at the Tribune amid his fears of being replaced by Greeley (293).

In his opening at the crowded Pfaff's Cave in March 1861, Starr sets the scene: "Charles Ignatius Pfaff,fat and genial, presided at the bar; buxon Saxon girls fetched the succulent sweetbreads, German pancakes, oysters, and lager for which he was famous; and at the long table in the low-ceilinged inner vault, beneath the rumble and clatter of Broadway, the regulars lounged among the hogsheads in an atmosphere of pipe smoke and laugher." Starr claims the bar was often crowded at this time, but a few of the familiar regulars had been drawn away on journalistic or political concerns (3).

Starr speculates that when William Howard Russell visited New York he most likely did not visit Pfaff's. According to Starr, the bar was not listed in any of the city's guidebooks and Starr also notes that Russell "received an impresion of the city that Pfaff's would have done nothing to correct" (3-4).

Of the scene, Starr writes: "If New York was not dancing on Doomsday, the Cave at 653 Broadway belied it" (4). According to Starr, "Regularly toward nightfall, Pfaff escorted any unwary patrons who were sitting in the vault to some other part of his restaurant, Henry Clapp, Jr., took his seat at the head of the table, the initiates appeared, and presently, in Whitman's words, 'there was as good talk around that table as took place anywhere in the world'" (4).

Starr writes: "Newspaper reporters and artists for the illustrated weeklies flocked to Pfaff's to savor Clapp's ripostes, hobnob with the literati, and pay homage to the 'Queen of Bohemia,' Ada Clare" (5).

Starr writes that Church's account of the battle at Fair Oaks was "notable" enough "to make Charlie Pfaff proud of him." Church's story ran on the entire first page of the July 3, 1862, Times (109).

According to Starr, the encampment of the "Bohemian Brigade" at the "tumble-down inn" in Jefferson City "became as uninhibited as Pfaff's" (63).

Starr also seems to indicate that Pfaff's was a place where news-rumors gained their own credence in how the war and battles were remembered (235).

Of the changes in climate during the late days of the war, Starr writes: "The new journalism had endowed reporters with a world of their own, with its own news and gossip, its own terminology, its own heroes, villains, clowns, myths, behavior patterns, stories of failure and success. In Charlie Pfaff's Broadway cellar, where once the talk had been of artistic and literary aspiration, the visitor in the fourth winter of the war might have heard how Ben. C. Truman of the Times beat the War Department by four days with news of the battle at Franklin, Tennessee; or of Herald reporter William J. Starks's astute deduction in teh woods near Petersburg that hundreds of squirrels chatters in the treetops betrayed teh recent passage of enemy troops, thereby saving Grant from capture during a reconnaissance; or the fate of R.D. Francis, the fat, sputtering Englishman hired and discharged in turn by teh Herald, Tribune, World, and Times, only to land in a Confederate prison..." (335).

Henry J. Raymond is listed with Horace Greeley, Bryant, Samuel Bowles, and R.B. Rhett who became famous as a result of the press' emphasis on opinion and editorial commentary than news and facts (6).

Starr refers to Greeley, Raymond and Bennett as "those titans of newspaperdom" and notes that their offices were all located in a small area of New York near City Hall Park. Theirs were the "only eight-page dailies in the United States" and were vital news sources for the country (11).

Raymond was among the large party of reporters that witnessed the first Battle of Bull Run; of the reporters caught in the battle, Raymond was one of two who had ever seen combat before, in the Austro-Italian war in 1859. (43-44). At 3:30, Raymond went to Centerville to find a courier and sent a "cautious" report to the Times, stating that the "result is not certain" (46). Shortly after Raymond sent his report, the tide of the battle turned, and in Centerville, Raymond rode to Washington after hearing of the retreat and managed to run into a "fresh stampede" from "an enormous Pennsylvania army wagon" (47).

Starr writes that in 1862, the "alert, immaculate, little Henry J. Raymond" joined the "Times crew" in Virginia to follow General McClellan's army (110).

During the riots of July 13-14,1863, Raymond defended the offices of the Times himself, armed with a Gatling gun at the front entrance, "commanding Park Row to the north" (224).

During Lincoln's re-election, Raymond was chairman of the Republican National Committee (323).

Bellew and Shepherd both served as Civil War correspondents for the New York Tribune.

Starr writes that "Something like a revolution was afoot in the realm of journalism...Soon O'Brien, Aldrich, Thomson, Williams, and Stedman, together with others in Clapp's happy coterie [...] would take the field along with hundreds of other youths of like mind to participate in the greatest undertaking in the history of journalism."

In a discussion of the idea that "To be a Bohemian affored license for all manner of youthful exuberances," Starr mentions that Thomson ("Doesticks") from the Tribune and George Forster Williams from the Times "spirited the Prince of Wales from the Fifth Avenue Hotel to a bar on Twenty-Fifth Street, where, while tumult reigned in the royal entourage as a result of his disappearance, they introduced His delighted Highness to a mint julep" (7).

Starr writes that in the days prior to the Civil War, like many others in New York, the "Pfaffians were exposed increasingly to the clamour of a world beyond their ken. Something like a revolution was afoot in the realm of journalism, a revolution that would lift these light-hearted pranksters from their subterranean retreat and whirl them in its vortex. Soon O'Brien, Aldrich, Thomson, Williams, and Stedman, together with others in Clapp's happy coterie--Charles G. Halpine (who stammered to fame at Pfaff's, speaking inadvertantly of 'H-H-Harriet Beseecher Bestowe'), William Conant Church, William Swinton, E.H. House, Charles Henry Webb, a couple of artists, Frank H. Bellew and Thomas Nast: in all more than half of the identifiable clientele at the Cave--would take the field along with hundreds of other youths of like mind to participate in the greatest undertaking in the history of journalism" (9).

In reference to the problem of "intelligent contrabands" and incorrect reporting that occurred in the rush to get news to press during the Civil War, Mark Twain asked everyone present at an 1869 New York Press Club dinner to "raise their glasses to 'the journalist's truest friend -- the late "Reliable Contraband," one whose fervent fancy wrought its miracles solely for our enrichment and renown." Twain continued:

"...When armies fled in panic...and the great cause seemed lost beyond all hope of succor, who was it that turned the tide of war and gave victory to the vanquished? The Reliable Contraband...Who took Richmond the first time? The Reliable Contraband. Who took it every time until the last? The Reliable Contraband. When we needed a bloodless victory, to whom did we look to win it? The Reliable Contraband...Thunder and lightning never stopped him; annihilated railroads never delayed him; the telegraph never overtook him; military secrecy never crippled his knowledge...

No journalist among us can lay his hand on his heart and say he never lied with such pathos, such unction, such exquisite symmetry, such sublimity of conception and such fidelity of execution, as when he did it through and by the inspiration of this regally gifted marvel of mendacity, the lamented Reliable Contraband. Peace to his ashes!"

Mark Twain was not a war correspondent (246-247).

Starr mentions that after his days as a war correspondent, Charles Henry Webb was a close friend of Mark Twain (260).

Starr writes that in the days prior to the Civil War, like many others in New York, the "Pfaffians were exposed increasingly to the clamour of a world beyond their ken. Something like a revolution was afoot in the realm of journalism, a revolution that would lift these light-hearted pranksters from their subterranean retreat and whirl them in its vortex. Soon O'Brien, Aldrich, Thomson, Williams, and Stedman, together with others in Clapp's happy coterie--Charles G. Halpine (who stammered to fame at Pfaff's, speaking inadvertantly of 'H-H-Harriet Beseecher Bestowe'), William Conant Church, William Swinton, E.H. House, Charles Henry Webb, a couple of artists, Frank H. Bellew and Thomas Nast: in all more than half of the identifiable clientele at the Cave--would take the field along with hundreds of other youths of like mind to participate in the greatest undertaking in the history of journalism" (9).

Starr describes him as one of the "withering realists" of the time (259).

Webb traveled with the Times and the large group of journalists that witnessed the first Battle of Bull Run (43).

Of Webb's skill, Starr writes: "Charles Henry Webb of the Times far outshone him [Smalley]. Despite a talent for mischief Webb brought with him from Pfaff's, he was a competant reporter, among the first in the North to comprehend the genius of Thomas J. Jackson." Starr prints an excerpt from Webb's report on Jackson and the battle of Cross Keys (121).

Webb, "later a close friend of Mark Twain, imparted a light touch to the correspondence of the New York Times. Webb delighted in unexpected twists in the midst of perfectly sensible recitals, ending one dispatch: 'I hope to date my next letter from Richmond,' a sentiment so trite as to be painful, adding, '-not from the tobacco factories, however'" (260-261).

Starr also notes that Webb nearly drowned while crossing a stream that was too high for the troops to cross in the spring of 1862. Starr also writes that "Unlike many of his fellows, Webb retained his perspective in writing of the enemy. 'Of the horrors and atrocities that are related as having been practiced by the Confederate troops,' he wrote, 'I must confess I do not believe one. These men are our countrymen...Are we to believe that the lapse of a year has transformed them to fiends?' This was the resolute fair-mindedness that prompted him to given Stonewall Jackson his fair due" (261).

In a discussion of the idea that "To be a Bohemian affored license for all manner of youthful exuberances," Starr mentions that Thomson ("Doesticks") from the Tribune and George Forster Williams from the Times "spirited the Prince of Wales from the Fifth Avenue Hotel to a bar on Twenty-Fifth Street, where, while tumult reigned in the royal entourage as a result of his disappearance, they introduced His delighted Highness to a mint julep" (7).

Starr writes that in the days prior to the Civil War, like many others in New York, the "Pfaffians were exposed increasingly to the clamour of a world beyond their ken. Something like a revolution was afoot in the realm of journalism, a revolution that would lift these light-hearted pranksters from their subterranean retreat and whirl them in its vortex. Soon O'Brien, Aldrich, Thomson, Williams, and Stedman, together with others in Clapp's happy coterie--Charles G. Halpine (who stammered to fame at Pfaff's, speaking inadvertantly of 'H-H-Harriet Beseecher Bestowe'), William Conant Church, William Swinton, E.H. House, Charles Henry Webb, a couple of artists, Frank H. Bellew and Thomas Nast: in all more than half of the identifiable clientele at the Cave--would take the field along with hundreds of other youths of like mind to participate in the greatest undertaking in the history of journalism" (9).

Williams, a reporter for the Times wrote a piece about Sheridan's military operations that Grant liked so much he invited Williams to dine with him (277).

Williams was invited to dine with President Lincoln after he published a piece of Sheridan (161-62).