The Portland Daily Press launches its third issue with a searing political attack on the rival Argus newspaper, accusing it of spectacular hypocrisy on the Constitution and Union. The unsigned piece (by J.C.W.) meticulously documents how the Argus—Maine's Democratic voice—has flip-flopped dramatically since the war began. In January 1861, when South Carolina fired on the Star of the West, the Argus mocked Republican calls for military response as "boyish" and "contemptible," even quoting the biblical Abram suggesting peaceful separation. When Lincoln called for 75,000 volunteers after Fort Sumter, the Argus declared it "sickening." Yet now, says the author, this same paper claims to defend "the Constitution as it is, and the Union as it was"—despite having spent months demanding constitutional amendments to protect slavery and suggesting peaceful dissolution if the North wouldn't comply. The piece methodically dismantles the Argus's credibility by showing it opposed the existing Constitution and actually advocated for Union dissolution. Also featured: a charming travel letter from deep Maine wilderness, describing the backwoods from Moosehead Lake to Mt. Kineo, complete with colorful profiles of local guides including an educated Penobscot Indian named Louis Annance and tales of an English viscount's misadventure in the Allegash rapids.

This June 1862 issue captures a crucial moment: the Civil War is fourteen months old, the nation is bloodied and divided, and Northern newspapers are locked in bitter partisan combat over war aims and constitutional authority. The Argus represented the "Peace Democrat" faction—Northerners who wanted negotiated settlement with the Confederacy, often sympathetic to slavery's preservation. The Portland Press attacked them relentlessly. This wasn't mere editorial disagreement; it was a battle over whether America would survive intact and what kind of nation it would be. By mid-1862, Lincoln was privately considering emancipation, the casualty lists were mounting, and patience for compromise was evaporating. These newspaper salvos reveal how deeply the war divided even the North.

• The Argus actually quoted the Bible—Genesis 13, the story of Abram and Lot dividing land peacefully—to argue for Union dissolution in April 1861. The opposition newspaper essentially caught them using Scripture to justify letting the Confederacy go.
• Louis Annance, the Indian guide profiled in the travel letter, was a Dartmouth College graduate who studied divinity but quit after a year, joking he had 'too much Indian in me and too little priest!' A rare glimpse of Indigenous education in antebellum Maine.
• The paper's advertising rates reveal inflation anxiety: transient ads cost $1.00 per square for three insertions, but special notices jumped to $1.50 the first week—a 50% premium suggesting sellers competed fiercely for attention even then.
• Viscount Milton, an English nobleman, actually canoed the Allegash rapids in Maine and capsized so thoroughly that guides had to fish him out. His name was scratched into a cabin beam—which burned down before the author could even return to verify it existed.
• The Portland Daily Press cost $6.00 per year in advance (roughly $170 in 2024 dollars) and published six days a week. The office stayed open from 7 a.m. to 9 p.m. daily, showing newspapers operated almost like modern news stations.

• The attack on the Argus references John Sherman of Ohio, who said 'If we cannot agree let us fight'—Sherman would become the Union's most feared general, and his later memoirs would be published in 1875 to massive acclaim, cementing his reputation as the architect of total war.
• The Crittenden Compromise mentioned here—John J. Crittenden's attempt to preserve slavery in the Constitution through amendment—failed in December 1861 and became the last serious bid to avoid war through constitutional amendment. After this, war became the only language both sides spoke.
• Louis Annance was Penobscot, part of the tribe that had inhabited Maine for thousands of years but by 1862 were confined to tiny reservations. His education at Dartmouth was extremely rare; most Native Americans had no access to higher education.
• The Fairy of the Lake steamboat had only a five-foot draft, designed specifically for shallow Maine waters. By 1862, railroads were already displacing steamboat tourism in New England, though Maine's lakes remained accessible only by water.
• This newspaper launched its first issue just weeks earlier—the Portland Daily Press was brand new, founded in June 1862 to give Republicans a vigorous voice against the Argus in a closely divided state. Maine would remain a Republican stronghold and Lincoln carried it decisively in 1864.