• Hope and Defiance – French Sympathy (E39)

• The New-England Chronicle – A Rare Voice (E40)

• Powerful Resolves – Battlefield Successes (E41)

• Addressing Military Overreach – Precedent for Restraint (E42)

• Common Sense – Condemnation of Monarchy (E43)

We hope you are enjoying this year-long trek to the 250th anniversary of The United States through the eyes of those who were fully engaged, first hand. As mentioned previously, all accounts are rooted in what they read in the newspapers of the day.

“History is never more fascinating than when read from the day it was first reported.” (Timothy Hughes, 1975)

The “Boston Daily Journal” of April 14, 1865 shares the date of the Lincoln assassination, he attending a performance of “Our American Cousin” at Ford’s Theatre in Washington, D.C. Page 3 of this newspaper has an advertisement for the Boston Theatre, noting: “This (Friday) Evening Benefit and Positively Last Night of EDWIN BOOTH who will appear as Sir Edward Mortimer…To-Morrow (Saturday Afternoon, Farewell Appearance of EDWIN BOOTH, Who will sustain his Great Character of Hamlet…”.
So what did we find? The very evening that famed actor Edwin Booth was performing in a Boston theater, his younger brother was assassinating the President in a theater less than 400 miles away.

This advertisement, logically, would only be found in a Boston newspaper.

This is similar to another of our blog posts, concerning Lincoln attending a Washington, D.C. stage performance of John Wilkes Booth in 1863, the irony being Lincoln’s assumed applause at the conclusion of the performance for the person who would assassinate him less than 2 years later.

Such tidbits of history are fascinating finds, and could only be discovered in newspapers of the day. So look carefully at the issues you purchase. Will you discover a historical gem that the world knew nothing about?

From the Archives: Our Original 2016 Post

Memorial Day is a time set aside in the United States to remember and give thanks for those who sacrificed life and limb to secure the freedoms we enjoy. These are the “self-evident, unalienable rights” bestowed upon us by the Creator, as envisioned by our Founding Fathers.

In times of peace and abundance, it is far too easy to forget the staggering cost paid by so many to ensure the freedom of others. With this in mind, I was recently struck by an article in the March 20, 1861, issue of the Western Christian Advocate out of Cincinnati, Ohio.

The piece provides moving details regarding General George Washington’s famous prayer – as well-depicted in the famous painting by Arnold Friberg: “Prayer at Valley Forge.” You can access the full text of that 1861 article via the “Western Christian Advocate” shown above.

Today, as we partake in various holiday activities, our hope is that we will all take a moment to enjoy—and truly appreciate—a blessed and meaningful Memorial Day.

History is often written in the grandest of strokes, but sometimes it is defined by the cruelest of ironies. Such was the case for Bobby Leach, the legendary English daredevil who spent his life dancing on the edge of catastrophe, only to be brought down by a stray piece of fruit. In April 1926, the man who had famously conquered the roaring cataracts of Niagara Falls met a quiet, tragic end in a hospital bed in Auckland, New Zealand.

Source: Library of Congress

Leach’s claim to immortality was cemented on July 25, 1911, when he became the first man to survive a plunge over Niagara’s Horseshoe Falls in a custom-built steel barrel. The 170-foot drop was a violent ordeal that left him with a shattered jaw and two broken kneecaps, yet he emerged alive—a feat that many at the time considered a miracle. He spent the following years touring the globe, a living testament to human grit and the pursuit of the “impossible,” sharing his tales of survival with captivated audiences.

However, the luck that sustained him through death-defying stunts ran out during a lecture tour in New Zealand. While walking down Princes Street in Auckland, Leach slipped on an orange peel. The fall, seemingly minor compared to the crushing forces of the Niagara River, resulted in a severely broken leg. In the 1920s, medical limitations turned a simple fracture into a death sentence; the wound became infected, and gangrene soon followed.

Despite an emergency amputation intended to save his life, Leach succumbed to complications on April 26, 1926. He was buried in Auckland’s Hillsborough Cemetery, far from the waterfalls that made him famous. Today, his story serves as a poignant reminder for history enthusiasts: a man can survive the world’s most dangerous forces of nature, only to be defeated by the most mundane of accidents. It is a legacy defined not just by the height of his fall, but by the quiet irony of his final stumble.

What brought this to our attention was the following front page article from THE DAY, New London, CT, dated April 29, 1926.

This venture started as a hobby with no thought of it turning into a business. But when I started getting too many of a similar title or date, selling off the “unwanteds” became a more common occurrence. My simple thought was, if I had $3 for it, try to sell it for $5. If I did, the price stuck for future issues; if it didn’t, the price dropped to $4.

But this became trickier years later when I was buying for resale but didn’t have enough experience to know what to pay, nor what to price them at. Nor did anyone for that matter, as there were no price guides, nor sufficient auction records to offer a clue.

I was flying by the seat of my pants. If I thought an event was historic, say a major Civil War battle, I would pay the $5 price and increase it by 50% or so. If it sold, then the next time I inched it up a bit more. If it didn’t, I reduced the price a bit.  Never knowing how high customers might go for an event, I might have “inched up” the price of an event 15 times over the coarse of 4 or 5 years until there was some resistance. I was careful to keep records of sales through the years–even in the pre-computer days–which was a tremendous assistance in assigning values to the myriad of historical events covering 300 years of history.

Did I sell some great material too cheaply in the early years? I sure did. Looking at some of my earlier catalogs I gladly pay five times the selling price of many items I sold. But it was part of the process. I remember once having a volume of a Las Vegas, New Mexico newspaper from 1881. There must have been 30 or 40 issues with a small “Reward” ad for the capture of Billy the Kid. I think I sold those issues for less than $20 each. After all, if I had 40 of them how rare could they be? Certainly I’ve learned through the years, and became smarter as well.

But we still encounter items which challenged us today. As we continue to find truly rare, almost unique issues it becomes difficult to assign values with no history or prior sales. But these are the fun challenges. As much as you may enjoy finding interesting items in our catalogs, I enjoy finding the unusual to offer.

“I have always gotten more joy from buying newspapers than selling them.”, Tim Hughes (2009).

PS from Guy: Between the internet and the surge of AI, it has never been easier to find “hidden” content and comparable pricing. For collectors who live for the thrill of discovery and have an old newspaper in hand, try using this prompt: “What noteworthy historical coverage is featured in [Newspaper Title] published on [Date]?” You might be amazed by what you find. If you turn up something unique, please share your discovery with the Rare & Early Newspapers community!

This series typically highlights lesser-known figures who have left intriguing marks in the world of historic newspapers—individuals often overlooked by the general public. However, today’s spotlight falls on a truly famous name: Stephen Crane (1871–1900), the acclaimed American author best known for his iconic Civil War novel *The Red Badge of Courage* (1895), a groundbreaking work of literary realism and naturalism that vividly captures the psychological turmoil of battle.

So why feature such a well-known literary giant in this series? Crane exemplifies a distinguished tradition of celebrated writers who launched their careers (or sharpened their skills) as newspaper journalists—often starting remarkably young. This roster includes luminaries such as:

– Mark Twain (Samuel Clemens), who began as a printer’s apprentice and reporter in his teens and early 20s.
– Charles Dickens, whose early work included vivid sketches and reporting for London newspapers.
– Ernest Hemingway, who honed his concise, punchy style as a cub reporter.
– George Orwell, who drew on journalistic experience for his essays and novels.
– Karl Marx, whose writings appeared in newspapers like the New-York Daily Tribune.

Many of these authors were in their teens or early 20s when they first contributed to newspapers, using the medium to observe society up close, develop their voices, and earn a living while building toward greater literary achievements.

The featured newspaper clip below and to the right are from one of Crane’s earliest published pieces: a sketch titled “Tent Life at Ocean Grove”, written and illustrated by Crane at the age of just 19, which we recently unearthed in the New York Herald dated July 19, 1891.

Ocean Grove, New Jersey—often called “God’s Square Mile”—was (and remains) a unique seaside community founded in 1869 by Methodist ministers as a camp meeting site. Part of the broader 19th-century Methodist camp meeting movement, it combined intense religious revivalism with summer respite: families lived in tents or simple cottages during annual gatherings, emphasizing piety, prayer meetings, lectures, and moral recreation—while alcohol and other “worldly” amusements were strictly prohibited. At its cultural peak in the late 19th century, Ocean Grove represented Victorian-era piety at its most earnest, contrasting sharply with the lively, secular beach resorts nearby (like Asbury Park).

Crane’s article offers a sharp, observational glimpse into this world. He describes the “somber-hued” atmosphere of the tent colony, where devout “tenters” engaged in serious religious devotion amid the summer heat. With characteristic irony and wit, he contrasts this restrained, spiritual environment with the more carefree, bustling vacation spots just beyond its borders—highlighting class differences, social norms, and the peculiar blend of holiness and holiday.

For collectors and scholars of historic newspapers, the 1891 *Herald* piece stands out as an early “warning shot” of Crane’s emerging literary genius. It foreshadows the keen social observation, subtle irony, and class consciousness that would later define masterpieces like *The Red Badge of Courage*, *Maggie: A Girl of the Streets* (1893), and his war reporting. While a later 1892 article for the *New York Tribune* (on a Labor Day parade) sparked controversy and effectively ended his newspaper career in that city due to its critical tone, this Ocean Grove sketch remains a more polished, evocative example of his talent for elevating a routine travelogue or feature story into incisive social commentary.

Talk about precocious talent—Crane was already displaying the distinctive voice that would make him one of America’s most innovative writers before he even turned 20!

Who else would you add to the list?

Personal Note: I have a personal connection to this world Crane described. During our early teens in the 1960s and 1970s, my sister and I attended Chester Heights Camp Meeting in Delaware County, PA—a historic Methodist camp meeting grounds established in 1872, not long after Ocean Grove’s founding. Though more than 90 years had passed since Crane’s visit to Ocean Grove, much of the atmosphere felt strikingly similar to what he captured: the rows of simple cottages (most without running water), the focused religious services, the sense of stepping away from everyday bustle into a place of earnest devotion and quiet summer fellowship. While the world around it had changed dramatically over the decades—and Chester Heights itself has evolved in many ways—the core spirit of sincere personal faith buoyed by sold Biblical teaching and powerful worship in a communal setting endured remarkably intact during those years. Reading Crane’s sharp, ironic sketch today brings those childhood summers vividly back to life.

PS Confession: We had to take a bus to our camp meeting’s “beach” – a small public pool about 10 miles from our location.

• The King’s own Regulars & Their Triumph over the Irregulars – Propaganda (E35)

• Voices of a Young Nation – Reports: Grim and Grateful (E36)

• Stirring Reports – Elected Delegates & New Postal System (E37)

• Independence was Destiny – The Case for Independence (E38)

We hope you are enjoying this year-long trek to the 250th anniversary of The United States through the eyes of those who were fully engaged, first hand. As mentioned previously, all accounts are rooted in what they read in the newspapers of the day.

“History is never more fascinating than when read from the day it was first reported.” (Timothy Hughes, 1975)

We were not aware until recently that a contemporary issue of the “New York Times” told the story quite well. Page 2 of the August 5, 1863 issue has over a column headed: “The Fall of Vicksburgh” “Last Words of the Vicksburgh Citizen” “A Curious Relic of the Siege”.

The report begins: “When Grant took possession of Vicksburgh, a detachment of the Fifteenth Illinois cavalry visited the office of the ‘Daily Citizen”. They found the number intended for July 2 in type, and the paper all ready for printing, but circumstances had prevented its issue…the paper was very poor wall-paper. The matter was wholly editorial, with the exception of a column and a half of: “Yankee News from all Points” copied from the Memphis Bulletin, a paper which the Citizen says is ‘edited by a pink-nosed, slab-sided, toad-eating Yankee, who is a lineal descendant of Judas Iscariot…” with much more.

Further on, it explains how the last paragraph of the Vicksburg issue came to be: “The Illinois men who visited the office of the ‘Citizen’ thought that this admirable number ought not to be withheld from the subscribers. They set to work at once to print it off, but as it was now the Fourth of July and some changes had taken place since the original editor made up his sheets for the 2d, they brought up the news to date in the following postscript…” , which is the famous paragraph at the bottom of the page that begins: “Two days bring about great changes…”.

The Times article notes in conclusion: “…The copy from which we print the foregoing extracts was furnished to us by Col. Jas. Grant Wilson, of the Fifteenth Illinois cavalry, according to whose request, we have presented to the New York Historical Society.”

Although there are many issues in the realm of rare newspapers that are curious, unusual, or perhaps exceedingly historic in a very unusual way, rarely are collectors treated to a contemporary account of how they came to be. This is one.