A Frontier Feud: The Scathing Attack on Byon F. Kendall
A brutal public broadside against political rival Byon F. Kendall highlights the vitriolic nature of local 1860s journalism.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
It has long been known that Byon F. Kendall has ever allowed his vindictive tongue to override all bounds of decency, but it remained for Saturday last to demonstrate the utter meanness and cowardice of that individual in assailing Surveyor General Henry with his coarsest abuse under the shield of a public meeting. We need not recall the public cowhiding he received at the hands of Governor McMullen several years ago. Kendall's capital consists solely of sounding brass; he is a sneaking cur who barks loud but sticks his tail between his legs when confronted. We have heretofore avoided personalities, but his slanderous innuendoes have gone unrebuked until forbearance ceases to be a virtue.
“The sneaking cur barks loud and long, but when Tray joins the crowd he sticks his tail between his legs.”
This piece exemplifies the 'personal journalism' of the 19th century, where editors routinely used their papers to engage in character assassination. While today's political discourse is often described as toxic, the direct, unvarnished physical threats and insults recorded here demonstrate that public life in the Washington Territory was often a series of violent, interpersonal feuds.
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