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To: yefragetuwrabrumuy
I couldn’t find a list, just mention of some of the larger and more well known papers.

That still leaves us 298 newspapers short.

And the reason why the Journal of Commerce and the World were ordered shut down was because it was believed, erroneously as it turned out, that they were complicit in a financial fraud and not for political reasons.

107 posted on 03/28/2015 3:35:05 PM PDT by DoodleDawg
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To: DoodleDawg; StoneWall Brigade; yefragetuwrabrumuy
Years ago, I found about 100 cases of suppression of newspapers and arrests of editors, publishers, and reporters by Lincoln, his generals, postmasters suppressing shipment of certain papers by mail or rail, northern troops, and mobs of Northerner civilians. My sources were old wartime newspapers and books like "Blue & Gray in Black & White" by Brayton Harris, "Lincoln's Wrath" (subtitle: Fierce Mobs, Brilliant Scoundrels and a President's Mission to Destroy the Press) by Jeffrey Manber and Neil Dahstrom, "Lincoln and the Press" by Robert S. Harper, and Appleton's "Annual Cyclopaedia of Important Events" for the various war years. The most thorough of them all is "Lincoln and the Press."

Many of the newspapers were attacked or suppressed by Northern mobs and in some cases Northern troops. The problem in counting how many newspapers were destroyed, suppressed, or bullied into submission by arrests ultimately becomes how do you count things like the blockage by Union Army order of all Democrat newspapers from coming into a state prior to an election. How many Democratic papers might that have been? There were Democratic papers throughout the North.

Here is one chilling account I found in the old Brooklyn Eagle, the largest evening newspaper in the Country during the war [Source: Brooklyn Eagle, August 16, 1861]:

Freedom of the Press


Mr. Marcellus Emory, editor of the Bangor Democrat, published an account of the outrage on his paper, in the Portland Argus. Being already apprised of the purpose to attack his office, he says:

I caused a written notice to be served on the mayor by two of our prominent and leading citizens, informing him of the fact that my office and property were threatened with destruction by a mob, and claiming and demanding of him protection for them. In the notice I tendered him for that purpose the services of able bodied men to the number two hundred. The mayor made neither response nor reply to this notice, nor did he give to the citizens by whom the notice was served, or to me, or to any of my friends the least assurance or encouragement that he would attempt to give the protection claimed and demanded.

On Saturday morning a call appeared in the Whig and Courier for a “Union” Meeting in Norombega Hall, to be holden that evening. I was not present, but am credibly informed that Wm. H. McCrillis, representative to the Legislature from this city and Charles S. Crosby, County Attorney, made inflammatory speeches. And here it should be said, to the honor of Henry E. Prentiss, Esq., that he attempted to make a speech opposing the effort there being made to create a mob spirit, but his voice was powerless amidst a tempest of hisses. The meeting accomplished the object for which it was designed by those who originated it.

On Saturday and Sunday nights it became evident that my property was to receive no protection from the Mayor. I took such precautions as were necessary for its security. To-day I proceeded as usual on Mondays to print and mail my issues for one week. During the forenoon there were no indications, that I saw, of mob violence. I left my editorial room about 12:25, to go to my dinner, my boarding place being about a half of a mile distant. Whilst eating, the fire bells were rung. After finishing my meal, I set out to return to my office. Soon after I met two gentlemen in a buggy, who informed me that my office had just been sacked, and all my property thrown into the street. Proceeding directly forward, on coming out of Central street, I saw the work of destruction, and there too, I saw the first mob that had ever met my eyes. West Market Square and surroundings were filled with nearly two thousand people. In the middle of the Square was a large fire, on which the multitude were engaged in heaping my tables, stands, cases and other material. The Wheelwright and Clark blacks were surrounded with the wreck of what had, an hour before, constituted one of the largest and finest printing offices in the State.

I made my way through the crowd to the stairway, which I found filled with the mob. They made no resistance to my ascending the long stairway. I found my office door besieged by a large number of persons armed with crowbars and like implements. As I approached the door they fell back. Whilst feeling for my key, one of their leaders, a man who has been honored with a position on our city police, demanded that I should instantly open the door. I then turned round and faced the mob, telling them that that office was rightfully under my control, but that if they saw fit to resort to violence, they could probably overpower me. I was unarmed. Before opening the door I told them that my object was to secure my account books, notes, bills, and private papers, and that I should give them the feeble protection in my power. I then opened the door and set about my business, the mob following me in, and seizing indiscriminately whatever they could lay their hands on, and throwing it out of the windows into the street. The work of destruction was soon complete. I then left the office, the mob following me down the stairs. As I reached the sidewalk, there arose from the infuriated mob, “Hang him! Tar and feather him! Kill him!” It was then felt, for the first time, how little there is in the terrors and threats of a mob for him who is conscious of having discharged his duty to the public and himself. The mad crowd were thirsty for the blood of one who had been long and incessantly toiling to save them from the fetters that are being forged for their free limbs. His works may yet bear their fruits.

As I made my way through the dense crowd, friend after friend gathered around me for my protection. Their words of sympathy sank deep into my soul, whilst the demonic cries for my blood fell unheeded on my ears. But one circumstance disturbed my equanimity, and that was like the sting of an adder. When I was beyond danger and among friends, the Mayor, who, regardless of his oath of office, would give me no protection for my property, who made no attempt to disperse the mob, who did not even order the reading of the riot act, who did not even lift a finger to preserve the peace of the city, although days and hours before warned of the threatened attack – when I was beyond danger, he suddenly conceived an anxiety for my personal safety, and suggested that I had better hurry away.

Thus hath the freedom of the press been stricken down here in Maine, not from any patriotic impulse, but through the wicked instigation of a band of politicians who would willingly subvert all law and order for the maintenance of a mere party dogma.

Though anarchy seems to be coming down upon our unhappy country like night, yet I do not despair. I still believe there is yet virtue and intelligence enough in the people to maintain their liberties and protect a free press, which is their best guardian.

By this act of mob violence my all, the result of four years of unremitting toil, has been swept away; but I still have health, strength and youth, and a heart to struggle on in defense of the people’s rights.

120 posted on 03/30/2015 8:57:59 AM PDT by rustbucket
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