The Printer's Kiss: The Life and Letters of a Civil War Newspaperman and His Family

Introduction

xvii “A Printer’s Kiss” PrinT on my lip another kiss, The picture of thy glowing passion; nay, this won’t do—nor this—nor this— But now—Ay, that’s a proof impression! —Songs of the Press, C. h. Timperley, 1833 ChAPTer TWO } Introduction in the turbulent decades from 1843 to 1863, in the treacherous borderlands of southern Ohio, my great­great­grandfather, Will Tom­ linson, published newspapers of a controversial nature. his newspapers covered everything from antislavery sentiment to spiritualist fervor to the rabid invective of partisan politics—not surprising, perhaps, for a man considered to be controversial himself. Described by his contemporaries as brilliant and erratic, literary and coarse, he was a man of high ideals and acute shortcomings. even the circumstances of his death were dis­ puted, raising the question of whether he died a hero or a scoundrel. in short, he was something of an enigma, and in many ways, in his life and work, he illustrated the best and worst of small­town newspaper editors before and during the Civil War.1 Like most publishers of country weeklies, Tomlinson was a printer by trade. As such, he shared many traits in common with his colleagues. Despite their various backgrounds, most country printers in the 1800s learned the trade through an apprentice system and, after achieving journeyman’s status, often took their skills on the road before setting up their own shops in small towns with promising opportunities. As a rule, country printers worked long hours with little or no help—except for what they found in a bottle. Aided by this constant “companion,” they did everything from setting type, backward and upside down, one letter xviii } introduction at a time, to printing each page, one side at a time, before pulling it off the bed of a rudimentary hand press. A lot of strength and stamina went into printing a few hundred copies of a newspaper.2 The first page off the press with just the right amount of ink and pres­ sure to produce a bright, clear impression was called a “printer’s kiss.” The printer’s kiss was a “proof impression” indicating that a printer had successfully calibrated the art and science of every step of the printing process, from mixing and spreading ink on the type, to dampening and aligning the paper, and, finally, to pulling the platen down with just the right touch. Devoutly to be sought, the “printer’s kiss” signaled that it was time to raise the bottle in celebration instead of frustration.3 if excessive drinking did not get a printer into trouble, another aspect of the business often did. Most small­town newspapers were subsidized either directly or indirectly by the prevailing political party of the area— usually the Jacksonian wing of the Democratic Party in the vast, rural ter­ ritory of nineteenth­century America. editors of all political affiliations, however, prided themselves on producing the most offensive descriptions of their party’s opponents that theycould print. The contentious language competing editors employed frequently led to brawling, in print and in person, and in an age devoid of electronic media, the baiting and fight­ ing of feisty editors often generated the most colorful entertainment ru­ ral readers had. Yet for all of his hard work, political networking, and pugnacious posturing, the typical printer barely eked out a living and seldom lasted anywhere for long.4 The trail of ink left by Will Tomlinson showed that, by and large, he was no exception to the rule. From 1844 to 1863, he edited and published ten newspapers, all of them in central and southern Ohio—except for one in iowa, where he lived from 1854 to 1860. Wherever he landed, he con­ ducted his business in a way that was, for the most part, typical of small­ town newspaper editors of that era. As an entrepreneurial Democrat of populist persuasion, he was imaginative and unrepentant in his editorial abuse. As a printer incessantly plagued by a weakness for alcohol, he was impulsive and unpredictable in his behavior. And, as a vociferous editor with a belligerent nature, he had a knack for getting into trouble and was usually in a row with someone.5 Generally speaking, Tomlinson was a man of extremes, and his flaws not only reflected but often exceeded those of the typical small­town edi­ tor. But the same could also be said of his endowments. his childhood in Lower Canada probably provided him with the...