Stephen H. Branch's Alligator, Vol. 1 no. 13, July 17, 1858 — A Reader’s Guide

Breakfast with Greeley and Douglass

The excerpt centers on a single episode: Branch and Greeley eating bran mush and molasses while Goss escorts Frederick Douglass and his wife to the table. Branch admits he was then teaching Black children in New York kitchens, yet he felt "grossly outraged" by the interracial dining. He goes to Noah, who prints "caustic and unceasing broadsides" against Greeley. Branch twice implores Noah not to reveal his name, fearing a controversy with Greeley over "Graham bread and Africans." The passage reveals Branch's contradictory stance—professing a desire to "elevate the whole African race" while recoiling from social equality.

Municipal Regulations and Public Health

The issue includes official notices from the City Inspector's Department. One resolution permits farmers and gardeners to sell produce free of charge at the intersection of Broadway and Sixth Avenue until noon daily. Another, dated June 18, 1858, orders the removal of all swine kept south of 86th Street, citing the boiling of offal and garbage as "a highly offensive and dangerous nuisance." The City Inspector is authorized to seize the animals, clean the premises, and place a lien on the property. These documents show the city's effort to regulate urban space and sanitation.

Advertising and Editorial Voice

The newspaper's advertisements reflect its low-cost, combative style. Rates are listed at 25 cents per line, with credit terms satirically described as "from two to four seconds, or as long as the Advertiser can hold his breath!" The masthead declares the price as two cents. Branch's editorial persona is evident in the table of contents, which includes items like "A Primary Election at Peter Cooper’s Funny Little Grocery-Groggery" and "Editorial Career of James Gordon Bennett." The mix of personal memoir, political attack, and official notices gives the Alligator a distinctive, scrappy character.

Readers should note that Branch's Alligator is a primary source for mid-nineteenth-century New York politics and journalism. The juxtaposition of Branch's autobiographical anecdotes with municipal notices and advertisements offers a window into the city's social hierarchies, regulatory efforts, and the combative press of the era. The excerpts suggest a paper that is both personal and public, blending scandal with civic information.

Years among these shelves taught me that every public row, like Mr. Branch's breakfast with Greeley and Douglass, leaves its quieter echo elsewhere. I find that echo in A Political Diary, 1828-1830, Volume II — Inside the Classic, where political tempests are but murmurs on paper. Strange, how two such distant voices share the same patient, weary arithmetic of governance.