By Wildert Marte
DELHI — In 1858, newspapers gave readers a little of everything. One issue might carry world politics poems, farming notes and a moral lesson for the family all in the same set of pages. Looking through those old columns today, you can see what people cared about, what worried them, and what made them laugh.
One of the sharpest essays of that year went after Louis Napoleon, the nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte. The writer mocked him as Napoleon the Small describing him as silent, tricky, and untrustworthy. His uncle had fought great battles and reshaped Europe, but the younger Napoleon was accused of lying as easily as breathing and caring more about horses, women, and titles than anything else. The piece predicted history would not treat him as a mighty conqueror but as a small-time ruler who would be remembered with a shrug. Lighter reading sat nearby. Poems set to familiar tunes carried both sorrow and hope, and a dreamlike story told of professors floating in a balloon and debating with the stars. These pieces gave readers a chance to smile before turning the page to heavier news. One tavern tale, printed like a short story, described Ellen Stephenson, the kind daughter of a landlord at the Star & Garter. Suitors admired her, gossip swirled, and a stranger named Duffy arrived, bringing with him a sense of trouble. Soon after, Stephenson sold his tavern and vanished with Ellen, leaving behind questions that spread from parlor to parlor. It read like a mystery, the kind of story neighbors told again and again.
There were also dispatches from Europe. In Rome, the church listed new banned books, everything from works on animal magnetism to histories of Italy. Even an Englishman who wanted to open a small bookstore was refused once officials learned he was Protestant. For people in upstate New York, these reports showed how tightly religion could still control daily life across the ocean. Practical news filled the columns too. Farmers read about “Florida Paint,” a root that colored hogs’ meat red, and experiments with tobacco planting in Ulster County. Parents were urged to let daughters play outdoors, skate, and climb trees instead of being forced to sit still. Writers worried that raising girls to be delicate made them sickly, and argued that exercise and fresh air would build healthier mothers for the future.
In the same year, the first issue of the Star of Delaware appeared in Delhi. The editors promised fair coverage of debates, space for religion, science, and farming, and a paper that would mix local and world news for just one dollar a year. The first issue carried everything from a tragic railroad accident near Port Jervis, where passenger cars tumbled into a meadow, to the failure of the first attempt to lay the Atlantic telegraph cable across the ocean. Both stories reminded readers that progress came with real risks.
Invention and discovery rounded out the mix. A New York artist claimed he could turn plaster of Paris into marble-like stone, giving builders and sculptors a cheap new material to work with. Practical notes warned against wasting manure by mixing it with lime, or against letting gossip turn cruel. These smaller pieces might not grab headlines, but they spoke directly to daily life. Taken together, the 1858 papers show how much could be packed into one weeks reading. On the same pages you could find emperors mocked, daughters advised, farmers guided tavern girls remembered and inventors were celebrated. It was the world and the neighborhood side by side, printed in black ink, meant to be read at the kitchen table or passed from hand to hand in the store.
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