Elijah Lovejoy

Elijah Lovejoy

Elijah Parish Lovejoy, die seun van 'n gemeentelike predikant, en broer van Owen Lovejoy, is op 9 November 1802 in Albion, Maine, gebore. Nadat hy in 1826 aan die Waterville College gestudeer het, verhuis hy na St. Louis, Missouri, waar hy vestig 'n skool voordat hy die Princeton Theological Seminary bywoon.

In 1834 word Lovejoy predikant van die Presbiteriaanse Kerk in St. Hy het 'n godsdienstige koerant begin, die St. Louis Observer, waar hy pleit vir die afskaffing van slawerny. In 1836 publiseer Lovejoy 'n volledige verslag oor die lynch van 'n Afro -Amerikaner in St.

Omdat hy nie sy koerant in St. Louis kon publiseer nie, verhuis Lovejoy na Alton, Illinois, waar hy 'n aktiewe lid van die plaaslike Anti-Slavery Society geword het. Hy het ook begin om die Alton Observer en het voortgegaan om die einde van slawerny te bepleit.

Drie keer is die drukpers van Lovejoy in beslag geneem deur wit skares wat in die Mississippirivier gegooi is. Lovejoy het in sy koerant geskryf: 'Ons belowe duidelik dat dit ons vaste doel is om nooit, terwyl die lewe duur, toe te gee aan hierdie nuwe stelsel van poging om die gewetensreg, die vryheid van opinie, te vernietig deur middel van gepeupelgeweld, en van die pers. "

Op 7 November 1837 ontvang Lovejoy nog 'n pers van die Ohio Anti-Slavery Society. Toe plaaslike slawe-eienaars hoor van die aankoms van die nuwe masjien, het hulle besluit om dit te vernietig. 'N Groep van sy vriende het probeer om dit te beskerm, maar tydens die aanval is Lovejoy doodgeskiet.

Elijah Parish Lovejoy was Amerika se eerste martelaar na die persvryheid. In 1952 is die Elijah Parish Lovejoy -toekenning ingestel en dit word toegeken aan 'n lid van die koerantberoep wat die Lovejoy -erfenis van vreesloosheid en vryheid voortsit.

Ek is kort daarna by meneer Colburn geneem en gehuur aan Elijah P. Lovejoy, wat op daardie stadium uitgewer en redakteur van die Louis Times. My werk, terwyl ek by hom was, was hoofsaaklik in die drukkery, op die hande gewag, in die pers gewerk, ens. Mr. Lovejoy was 'n baie goeie man en beslis die beste meester wat ek ooit gehad het. Ek is veral dank verskuldig aan hom en my diens in die drukkery, vir die min geleerdheid wat ek in die slawerny gekry het.

Die nag het gekom in die stad Alton, Illinois, en 'n skare het in die donker begin saamtrek.

Sommige van die mans buk om klippe bymekaar te maak. Ander het die snellers van die gewere wat hulle gedra het, na die pakhuise aan die oewer van die Mississippirivier gebring.

Toe hulle nader kom, kyk hulle na die vensters van die gebou met drie verdiepings en soek na 'n teken van beweging van binne. Skielik verskyn William S. Gilman, een van die eienaars van die gebou, in 'n boonste venster.

"Wat wil jy hier hê?" vra hy die skare.

"Die pers!" kom die geskreeue antwoord.

Binne die pakhuis was Elijah Parish Lovejoy, 'n Presbiteriaanse predikant en redakteur van die Alton Observer. Hy en 20 van sy ondersteuners het wag gehou oor 'n nuutgedrukte drukpers van die Ohio Anti-Slavery Society. Dit was die vierde pers wat Lovejoy vir sy koerant ontvang het. Drie ander is reeds vernietig deur mense wat gekant was teen die standpunte teen slawerny wat hy in die waarnemer uitgespreek het. Maar Lovejoy wou nie opgee nie.

Hierdie keer, in 'n poging om die koms van die nuwe pers te verberg, is geheime reëlings getref. 'N Stoomboot het die pers om 7 uur die oggend op 7 November 1837 afgelewer, en 'n paar van Lovejoy se vriende was daar om dit te ontmoet. Hulle beweeg vinnig en dra die pers na die derde verdieping van Gilman se pakhuis, maar nie voordat lede van die skare dit opgemerk het nie.

Die aankondiging van die pers het die hele dag deur die stad versprei. Toe die nag aanbreek, het manne uit die tavernes by die skare -leiers aangesluit, en nou staan ​​die skare daaronder en eis hierdie vierde pers.

Gilman het uitgeroep: 'Ons het geen slegte gevoelens teenoor u nie, en ons sal baie spyt wees om enige besering aan te rig; maar ons is gemagtig deur die burgemeester om ons eiendom te verdedig en sal dit met ons lewens doen.' Die skare het klippe begin gooi en al die vensters in die pakhuis uitgebreek.

Skote is deur lede van die skare afgevuur, en geweerballe het deur die vensters van die pakhuis gegis en die verdedigers na binne gemis. Lovejoy en sy manne het die vuur teruggekeer. Verskeie mense in die skare is getref, en een is dood.

"Brand hulle uit!", Skree iemand. Leiers van die skare het 'n leer gevra wat aan die kant van die gebou opgesit is. 'N Seun met 'n fakkel is gestuur om die houtdak aan die brand te steek. Lovejoy en een van sy ondersteuners, Royal Weller, het vrywillig aangebied om die seuntjie te stop. Die twee mans kruip buite, wegkruip in die skaduwees van die gebou. Toe hulle die skare verbaas, het hulle na die leer gejaag, dit omgestoot en vinnig na binne gegaan.

Weer is 'n leer in plek gestel. Terwyl Lovejoy en Weller nog 'n dapper poging aangewend het om die leer om te keer, is hulle opgemerk. Lovejoy is vyf keer geskiet, en Weller is ook gewond. Lovejoy waggel in die pakhuis en maak sy weg na die tweede verdieping voordat hy uiteindelik val.

"My God. Ek is geskiet," het hy uitgeroep. Hy is byna onmiddellik dood.

Teen hierdie tyd het die pakhuis se dak begin brand. Die mans wat binne was, het geweet dat hulle geen ander keuse gehad het as om die pers oor te gee nie.

Die skare het in die vakante gebou ingestorm. Die pers Lovejoy sterf as verdediging en word na 'n venster gebring en op die rivieroewer uitgegooi. Dit is in stukke gebreek wat in die Mississippirivier versprei was.

Uit vrees vir meer geweld het Lovejoy se vriende eers die volgende oggend sy lyk uit die gebou verwyder.

Lede van die skare van die vorige aand, wat hulle nie skaam voel oor wat hulle gedoen het nie, lag en spot terwyl die begrafniswa stadig in die straat af beweeg na Lovejoy se huis. Lovejoy is op 9 November 1837, sy 35ste verjaardag, begrawe.


Elijah Parish Lovejoy

Elijah Parish Lovejoy (9 November 1802 - 7 November 1837) was 'n Amerikaanse presbiteriaanse predikant, joernalis, koerantredakteur en afskaffer. Nadat hy sy koerant van St. Louis, Missouri, na Alton, Illinois, verhuis het, is hy doodgeskiet tydens 'n aanval deur 'n slawerny. Hulle wou 'n pakhuis van Winthrop Sargent Gilman en Benjamin Godfrey, wat Lovejoy se pers- en afskaffingsmateriaal bevat, vernietig.

Volgens John Quincy Adams het die moord ''n skok gegee as 'n aardbewing in hierdie land'. [1] "Die Boston Recorder verklaar dat hierdie gebeurtenisse uit elke deel van die land '' 'n verontwaardigingstoestand wat sedert die Slag van Lexington in Suid -Afrika nie sy vergelyking gehad het nie '' [2] Toe John Brown in kennis gestel is van die moord, het hy in die openbaar gesê: "Hier , voor God, in die teenwoordigheid van hierdie getuies, vanaf hierdie tyd, wy ek my lewe toe aan die vernietiging van slawerny. "[3]


Die lewe en onstuimige tye van Elijah Lovejoy kom eersdaags tot 'n einde '

In 1837 word Elijah Lovejoy vermoor deur lede van 'n woedende, slawerny-skare. Hulle het by die pakhuis in Alton, Illinois, ingebreek, waar Lovejoy die drukpers weggesteek het waarmee hy sy Abolitionistiese koerant, die Alton Observer, gepubliseer het. Lovejoy, wat ter plaatse was om sy eiendom te verdedig, is vyf keer geskiet.

Terwyl sy lyk op 'n wieg lê, het die skare die gebou binnegedring en die pers in beslag geneem. Dit is van die boonste verdieping na die strate hieronder laat val - en dan in die Mississippirivier. Dit was die vierde keer dat Lovejoy se drukpers in skaars meer as 'n jaar vernietig is.

Daardie aand het Lovejoy die eerste Amerikaanse joernalis geword vir sy werk, skryf joernalis Ken Ellingwood in sy aangrypende nuwe biografie, "Eerste wat val: Elijah Lovejoy en die stryd om 'n vrye pers in die tyd van slawerny. ” Die Presbiteriaanse minister, wat eers 'n sterk afskaffer geword het nadat hy eerstehands die gruwels van slawerny gesien het in sy jare in St.

Soos Ellingwood Donderdag verduidelik het St. Louis op die lug, Lovejoy was 'n boorling van Maine wat in die laat 1820's deels na Missouri - wat toe die grens was - op pad was, deels om sy weg te vind. Hy het 'n skool bestuur en toe 'n koerant begin.

Maar namate sy geloof verdiep het (hy het 'n persoonlike oproep tot Christus gevoel, een van die vele Amerikaners wat so geïnspireer was tydens die Tweede Groot Ontwaking), het die euwels van slawerny toenemend 'n bekommernis geword - in sy gedagtes en op die bladsye van sy koerant.

'Hy het hoofsaaklik deur sy godsdiens tot die anti-slawernybeweging gekom,' het Ellingwood gesê. Nadat hy 'n paar jaar na die ooste teruggekeer het om sy goddelike graad te behaal, verhuis Lovejoy terug na St. Louis met 'n tweelingmissie: 'Hy sou 'n predikant word, maar hy is ook gevra om 'n godsdienstige koerant te redigeer. Dit word die St. Louis Observer genoem, en dit het sy voertuig geword om te skryf oor allerhande sienings wat hy gehad het. ”

Hy het bygevoeg: 'Een van die dinge wat hom diep geraak het, was wat hy rondom hom in Missouri en in St. Daar was slawe om hom in St. Louis, daar was baie mishandeling van slawe in St. Louis en in die algemeen in Missouri, en hy is diep daardeur geraak. ”

Soos die boek van Ellingwood lewendig beskryf, was afskaffing in Lovejoy se dae baie kontroversieel, selfs in die noorde. Abolusioniste word beskou as radikale radikale, wat gereeld beskuldig word van oproerigheid omdat hulle 'n pad voorstaan ​​wat die land se toenemend brose unie kan opblaas. Selfs in die noorde het hulle dikwels te kampe gehad met ontstoke skares - en hul teenstanders, in Ellingwood se woorde, "het hulleself beskou as handhawers van die meerderheid se wil in 'n tyd van fluks", met geweld teen hulle "'n vorm van oorlas om die gemeenskap se bestaan ​​te behou standaarde. ”

En die persvryheid was destyds geen waarborg nie. Soos Ellingwood skryf, was die regte wat deur die Amerikaanse grondwet gewaarborg is, eers dekades later uitgebrei na staats- en plaaslike regerings. Die federale regering kon nie op 'n vrye pers druk nie - maar in daardie jare kon state wel en wel.

In die 1830's het baie slawestate dit 'n misdaad gemaak om koerante te publiseer wat waarskynlik 'sameswering of opstand' onder Swart mense kan oplewer, skryf Ellingwood. Selfs die verspreiding van sulke materiaal was 'n misdaad. Missouri het eers baie nader aan die burgeroorlog by hierdie pogings aangesluit, maar, skryf Ellingwood, "het staatgemaak op 'n wet van 1804 wat die doodstraf opgelê het vir sameswering om slaweopstand aan te moedig."

Lovejoy sou nie gestop word nie. Selfs nadat hy uit St. Louis na die vrystaat Illinois gevlug het en hom in Alton gevestig het, het hy voortgegaan om teen die slawerny in die Observer te druk. Die skare het sy drukpers vernietig en wou by sy huis inbreek, beide in Alton en toe hy die gesin van sy vrou oorkant die rivier in St. Charles besoek het.

Tog bly Lovejoy vas. 'Omdat ek God vrees, is ek nie bang vir almal wat my teenstaan ​​in hierdie stad nie', sê Ellingwood vir 'n groep sakemanne van Alton wat in die herfs van 1837 probeer het om beheer oor die koerant te kry. 'Nee Meneer, die wedstryd het hier begin en hier moet dit klaar wees. As ek val, sal my graf in Alton gemaak word. ”

Die skare het nie meer as 'n paar dae later daarin geslaag nie, 'n toneel wat duidelik in Ellingwood se boek uitgebeeld word. Alhoewel prominente burgers aan die nabygeveg by die pakhuis deelgeneem het, is niemand ooit vervolg vir hul rol in die dood van Lovejoy nie.

Alton het egter 'n prys betaal.

"Alton in die 1830's het die groot ambisie dat dit St. Louis as die koningin van die Weste, as hierdie kragstasie in die Mississippi, sou gebruik," het Ellingwood gesê. 'Na hierdie konfrontasie, na die moord op Lovejoy, na die skare se aanval op sy perse en die brandbom van die pakhuis waar Lovejoy sy laaste standpunt gemaak het, het die lot van Alton werklik geval. ... Alton het nie doodgegaan nie, Alton bestaan ​​vandag nog, maar hy kon nooit die status bereik wat hy geglo het wanneer dromers in die 1830's hierdie ekonomiese kragpunt sou voorstel nie. ”

Uiteindelik het Lovejoy se idees gewen. Dit is nie net dat die afskaffingsoogpunt uiteindelik van 'n randpunt na die federale wet gegaan het nie, maar ook dat sy stryd om te druk wat hy wou druk, sonder inmenging van die regering of die skare, 'n gekoesterde Amerikaanse beginsel geword het.

Ellingwood skryf: 'Lovejoy herinner ons daaraan dat 'n vrye pers nie net 'n klousule in die Handves van Regte is nie, maar 'n saak wat deur geslagte van sy beoefenaars bewerk en verdedig is, waarvan te veel in die oefening gesterf het. Lovejoy was die eerste van hulle wat geval het. In sy stryd het Lovejoy vir die res geseëvier. Sy oorwinning sou nie gemeet word aan die aantal slawe wat bevry is of die sondes wat verlos is nie, maar eerder aan die eenvoudige, gewaagde feit van gepubliseerde woorde wat deur 'n pers aan die lewe gebring word en die heilige soen van ink op papier. "

St. Louis op die lug”Bring u die verhale van St. Louis en die mense wat in ons streek woon, werk en skep. Die vertoning word aangebied deur Sarah Fenske en vervaardig deur Alex Heuer, Emily Woodbury, Evie Hemphill en Lara Hamdan. Die klankingenieur is Aaron Doerr.


Elijah Lovejoy

Rondom 1822 verkoop 'n onderwyser, Anthony C. Parmer, sy baksteengebou in South Main Street 301 aan 'n prominente dokter uit Vermont, dr. Seth Millington. Seth en sy broer Jeremiah was prominente inwoners in die vroeë dorpie St. Charles, maar hy sterf op 4 Augustus 1834. Ten tyde van sy dood sou die boedel van Seth Millington nege slawe Afro -Amerikaners insluit.

Seth en Jeremiah het 'n suster Sarah ”Sally ” wat met Thomas French getroud was, maar sy het in 1835 weduwee geword en sy het in 1837 by die voormalige huis van Seth gaan bly. Sally en Thomas se dogter Celia het met die voormalige St. . Louis redakteur Elijah P. Lovejoy, wat 'n bekende afskaffer was, behalwe dat hy 'n presbiteriaanse predikant was. Op 3 Oktober 1837 het Elijah Lovejoy pas 'n “ talk ” by die Second Street Presbyterian Church gegee en besoek hy die huis van sy skoonma saam met sy vrou en baba.

Charles Presbyterian Church in Second Street

Toe Lovejoy 'n paar minute tevore die kerk verlaat het, het William Campbell 'n waarskuwingsbrief aan hom deurgegee waarin hy gesê het dat hy in gevaar is en dat hy onmiddellik die St. Campbell self was ook 'n slawe -eienaar en eksekuteur van die boedel wat Archer Alexander en sy vrou Louisa en hul kinders ingesluit het. 'N Groot groep woedende mans het gou by die huis van Sally French ’ in die voormalige Millington -huis aangekom, en was op die punt om Lovejoy aan te val, toe sy vrou flou word en die mans besluit om terug te trek.

Die goeie vriend van George, George Sibley, wie se vrou en hy 'n meisieskool gestig het wat hulle Linden Wood genoem het, het hom 'n perd geleen. Laat die aand sou Lovejoy en sy vrou by hul huis in Alton, Illinois, kom, waar Lovejoy die redakteur van die Alton Observer was. Dit sou eers 'n paar weke later plaas toe Lovejoy op 7 November 1837 in Gilman's Warehouse in Alton deur die woedende skare besoek is. Daar is Elijay Lovejoy geskiet en vermoor terwyl hy sy pers wou red.

Die voormalige verslaafde John Richard Anderson sou die hele gebeurtenis aanskou, terwyl hy as tikskrywer vir Lovejoy gewerk het. Anderson was 'n voormalige slaaf van die Bates -familie, wat, nadat hy geëmansipeer was, sou leer lees en skryf en later 'n Baptiste -predikant word, net soos sy goeie vriend John Berry Meachum. Die woedende skare het ook die pers van Lovejoy verniel en dit in die Mississippirivier gegooi.


Elijah Parish Lovejoy, deel I

Een van my gunsteling televisieprogramme is American Experience on PBS. Bekend om hul goed vervaardigde en diepgaande historiese dokumentêre, het American Experience dit die afgelope tyd eenvoudig doodgemaak. “Dood en die Burgeroorlog in November uitgesaai, 'n film gebaseer op die fantastiese boek Hierdie Republiek van lyding deur Drew Gilpin Faust. Onlangs het hulle nog 'n uitsonderlike film met die titel “The Abolitionists uitgesaai. Ek was 'n student in die geskiedenis van die burgeroorlog en kon nie wag om dit te sien nie. Ek was nog altyd gefassineer deur die afskaffers en die belangrike rol wat hulle in die konflik gespeel het.

Ek was veral opgewonde omdat die St. Louis -omgewing bande het met een van die vroegste en noemenswaardigste afskaffers, Elijah Parish Lovejoy. Alhoewel ek vertroud was met sy tragiese moord in 1837, het ek nie veel geweet van die res van sy lewe nie. Ek het daarna uitgesien om meer in die dokumentêr te leer.

Ek was teleurgesteld om te ontdek dat hy skaars genoem word. Die film sou eintlik die titel “The John Brown en Frederick Douglass Show ” kon gewees het, aangesien die twee die meeste lugtyd opeet (met 'n bietjie William Lloyd Garrison en Harriet Beecher Stowe ingesprenkel). Dit is beslis primêre bydraers tot die beweging, maar ek dink Lovejoy verdien meer aandag. In drie uur se programmering word sy naam net een keer genoem.

Ek dink dat dit 'n beduidende oorsig is. Een van die vroegste stemme in die afskaffingsbeweging, dit was die moord op Lovejoy, wat die destyds onbekende John Brown genoop het om in 'n kerk in Ohio op te staan ​​en sy lewe te wy aan die afskaffing van slawerny.

Ek dink eintlik dat Lovejoy so 'n impak gehad het; sy verhaal is te goed vir net een blogpos. Om hierdie rede verdeel ek dit in twee. Hierdie week bespreek ek Lovejoy se vroeë jare en sy lewe as koerantredakteur in St. Volgende week neem ek die storie op as hy noordwaarts trek en sy uiteindelike lot in Alton, Illinois, ontmoet.

Elijah Parish Lovejoy is gebore in Albion, Maine, op 9 November 1802. Hy is die oudste van nege kinders en is eenvoudig deur sy familie genoem. Sy opvoeding was baie godsdienstig. Goed opgevoed en 'n begaafde student, het hy aan die top van sy klas aan die Waterville College in Maine (nou Colby College) gegradueer.

Hy het sy loopbaan as onderwyser in Maine begin, maar hy vind die beroep nie bevredigend nie. Die lokmiddel van die grens spreek hom aan, en hy besluit om weswaarts te trek. Hy het in 1827 op 25 -jarige ouderdom na St. Louis gekom, net vyf jaar tevore as 'n stad ingelyf, en destyds 'n bevolking van ongeveer 5 000 mense. Dit was die wilde weste, en Lovejoy was op die punt om een ​​van sy mees omstrede inwoners te word.

Terwyl hy in St. Louis was, het hy besluit om sy joernalistiek te probeer beoefen. In 1830 koop hy die helfte van die rente in 'n koerant met die naam Louis Times. Hy werk die volgende twee jaar as redakteur daarvan.

In hierdie stadium van sy lewe was daar min tekens dat Lovejoy 'n leidende stem sou word in die groeiende afskaffingsbeweging. Briewe huis fokus meer op godsdiens en sy probleme om die vurige leerstelling van sy ouers ten volle te omhels. Sy vroeë hoofartikels in die Louis Times noem selde die instelling van slawerny. Privaat het hy gedink dat die instelling boos was, maar hy was van mening dat emansipasie geleidelik, nie onmiddellik nie, moes geskied.

Dit sou verander in 1832, toe Lovejoy 'n diens bygewoon het in die 1st Presbyterian Church in St. Op daardie dag het 'n afskaffer met die naam dominee David Nelson die gemeente toegespreek. Sy woorde het 'n beduidende impak op Elijah Lovejoy gehad.

Nelson het die instelling van slawerny openlik as boos veroordeel. Hy val die verkoop van mense aan as 'n sonde so groot soos egbreuk en moord. As gevolg van die toespraak van Nelson, het Lovejoy sy godsdienstige ontwaking gevind en is hy gou bekeer. Nelson was bevriend met die vurige spreker en herken die vermoëns van Lovejoy en het hom aangeraai om die bediening te betree. Lovejoy het sy advies geneem en ooswaarts gegaan om die Princeton Theological Seminary in New Jersey by te woon. Lovejoy eindig weer bo -aan sy klas en keer terug na St. Louis en hervat sy loopbaan as redakteur, hoewel met 'n heel ander stem.

Hy verkoop sy aandeel in die Louis Times en begin 'n nuwe vraestel met die naam St. Louis Observer. Dit sou 'n godsdienstige publikasie wees wat toegewy is aan die aanval op grensdade soos alkohol, tabak en morele laksheid. In die vroeë maande van publikasie is daar slegs af en toe verwys na slawerny. Hy was nou 'n presbiteriaanse predikant en gebruik die koerant hoofsaaklik as 'n platform vir sy godsdienstige oortuigings. Lovejoy was 'n uitdagende persoonlikheid en was heeltemal onverdraagsaam teenoor enige ander geloof as sy eie. Hy het gereeld Baptiste, Episkopaliërs, veral Rooms -Katolieke, aangeval. Met verwysing na die geloof as “Popery ”, veroordeel hy enigiemand wat op afstand verbonde is aan die Rooms -Katolieke Kerk.

In 1834 begin die taal van die hoofartikels van Lovejoy ’ verander. Die bespreking van slawerny word meer algemeen en konfronterend. Alhoewel hy aandring dat hy nie 'n afskaffer was nie, begin Lovejoy eis dat slawerny onmiddellik beëindig moet word. In 'n hoofartikel uit 1835 skryf hy: “Die atmosfeer van slawerny is 'n onnatuurlike atmosfeer waarin Amerikaners kan woon. Die instelling weerstaan ​​die heel eerste beginsels van vryheid. ”

In die slawestaat Missouri wou die meerderheid van die bevolking niks te doen hê met enige vorm van emansipasie nie, geleidelik of onmiddellik. Met elke hoofartikel word Lovejoy toenemend beskou as 'n moeilikheidmaker en 'n destabiliserende krag in die stad. Dreigemente met teer en veer, fisiese skade en vernietiging van sy koerantbedryf het algemeen geword. 'N Plaaslike koerant het selfs posbriewe in die stad geplaas waarin 'n oproep tot aksie gedoen word om sy drukpers te vernietig.

Toenemend bekommerd oor sy veiligheid, het Lovejoy se vriende en kollegas by hom gesmeek om sy retoriek te verlig. Lovejoy het niks daarvan nie. Hy het uitdagend geantwoord dat sy regte op vrye spraak en vrye pers grondwetlik beskerm word. Hy het ook nie gehuiwer om op dreigemente te reageer deur in ruil daarvoor uitdagend te wees nie. Toe stemme teen slawerny hom daarvan beskuldig dat hy 'n interras-huwelik bevoordeel, het hy die taboe van seksuele mishandeling in 'n slawegemeenskap geopper. Selfs as hy beweer dat hul meesters slawe verkrag het, was dit selfs erger as die fisiese marteling van swepe en wimpers, en Lovejoy het sy afvalliges nog meer woedend gemaak. Tot op daardie stadium het niemand so iets in St.

Ondanks sy uitdaging het een dramatiese gebeurtenis alles vir Elijah Lovejoy verander. In April 1836 was 'n vrye swart man met die naam Francis McIntosh betrokke by 'n onderonsie aan die St. Louis -rivier. Dit het begin toe 'n oproerige matroos probeer om arrestasie te vermy toe McIntosh daar naby gestaan ​​het. Wat daarna gebeur het, verskil per rekening. Óf McIntosh het die man gehelp om te ontsnap, óf hy het 'n versoek geïgnoreer om hom te help vat. Hoe dan ook, McIntosh is self gearresteer en na die tronk geneem. Gevang en aangekla van 'n misdaad in 'n slawestaat, het McIntosh waarskynlik vasgestel dat sy dae van vryheid getel is. Terwyl twee mans hom tronk toe gebring het, het McIntosh 'n mes getrek en geslinger. Een konstabel is dood en die ander een ernstig beseer.

Weer gevang, is McIntosh in die tronk opgesluit. Die nuus oor die gebeurtenis het vinnig deur die stad versprei, en iemand het voorgestel dat McIntosh lewendig verbrand moet word. 'N Groot skare het gou bymekaargekom rondom die tronk, met meer as 2000 woedende burgers wat om geregtigheid roep. Uiteindelik breek die skare deur die deur en trek McIntosh uit sy sel. Na die rand van die stad is McIntosh aan 'n sprinkaanboom vasgeketting terwyl hout om hom gestapel was. Die vuurtjie is aangesteek en McIntosh het stadig begin brand. Terwyl die vlamme hom verswelg het, het McIntosh gesmeek dat iemand in die skare hom sou skiet en hom uit sy ellende kon blus.

Die vuur het meer as twintig minute gebrand voordat McIntosh beswyk het. Met hul taak voltooi, het die skare vinnig versprei. Terwyl sy verkoolde oorblyfsels aan die boom vasgeketting gelaat is, het 'n groep kinders in 'n wedstryd met klippe na sy lyk begin gooi om te sien wie die skedel eers kan breek.

Ontsteld oor die gebeurtenis het Elijah Lovejoy toegeslaan. In sy volgende hoofartikel veroordeel hy die optrede van die skare ten sterkste. Oor die gebrek aan 'n wettige samelewing in St. Hy het 'n beroep gedoen op almal wat aan die lynch deelgeneem het om vergifnis te soek.

'N Hof is belê om die lyntjie te ondersoek. 'N Regter met die naam Luke Edward Lawless was die voorsitter van die groot jurie. Lawless was self 'n slawe-eienaar en het geen probleem gehad met die rowwe kultuur van sy stad nie. Hy het een van die wonderlikste toesprake in die geskiedenis van ons howe gehou.

Toe hy die groot jurie toespreek, het Lawless gesê dat die dood van Francis McIntosh onwettig en tragies was. Hy het die groot jurie egter opdrag gegee om niemand aan die misdaad skuldig te maak nie. Hy het gesê dat, aangesien duisende betrokke was, die saak buite die bereik van mensereg was. Lawless het toe afskrifte van die St. Louis Observer en het dit aan die jurie oorhandig. Nadat hy spesifieke aanhalings teen slawerny uit die publikasie gelees het, het hy gesê dit is koerante soos die Waarnemer dat die neger die fan is en hom opgewonde maak teen die blanke man. Deur dit te doen, het hy die skuld vierkantig aan die voete van Elijah P. Lovejoy gelê. Daarna vra hy optrede teen Lovejoy, en vra die groot jurie om te oorweeg wat gedoen kan word aan pers wat 'n wydverspreide onheil veroorsaak.

Ondanks Lovejoy se skerp weerlegging in die volgende Waarnemer redaksioneel, is die toespraak deur Lawless deur die mense van St. Louis verwelkom. Nadat hy byna almal in die stad vervreem het, en uit vrees vir fisieke geweld teen sy gesin, het Elijah Lovejoy aangekondig dat die Waarnemer sou oor die rivier na Alton, Illinois, verskuif word. In die oortuiging dat hy meer ondersteuning op vrye grond het terwyl hy St. Louis -intekeninge kon behou, het Lovejoy besluit dat dit tyd is om te gaan.

Op dieselfde aand wat sy laaste hoofartikel gepubliseer is, het 'n groep mans in St. Die skare het op 'n trom gestamp toe hulle deur die strate marsjeer, en het vinnig meer as 200 man geword. Hulle het net na middernag by die voordeur van Lovejoy se koerantbedryf aangekom. Die deur is afgebreek en die inhoud van die gebou is aangeval. Lovejoy se drukpers is uitmekaar gebreek en in die Mississippi gegooi.

Dit was die eerste drukpers van Elijah P. Lovejoy, wat vernietig is en in 'n rivier gegooi is. Daar sou nog drie wees.

In my navorsing oor hierdie pos was ek bly om 'n biografie te vind wat geskryf is deur niemand anders nie as die laat booggebinde senator van Illinois, Paul Simon. Sy boek Vryheids kampioen was 'n goeie inleiding van Lovejoy se lewe. Simon behoort iets of twee van Lovejoy te weet, aangesien hy ook as koerantredakteur in die suide van Illinois gewerk het voordat hy die politiek betree het.

Wat die drink betref, was dit 'n moeilike een. Lovejoy het nie gedrink nie, en hy het nie vir drinkers gesorg nie. Ek kon nie regtig op die plek gaan nie, want die Gateway Arch staan ​​nou waar Lovejoy se huis- en koerantbedryf bestaan ​​het. Die “Old Meeting House ” waar hy gepreek het, staan ​​nog steeds in St. Louis County, maar daar is nie 'n kroeg naby dit nie. Dit het my gelaat met die gebeurtenis wat sy tyd in St. Louis, die Francis McIntosh -lynch, beëindig het.

Ek het verskeie verslae van die tragiese gebeurtenis vir hierdie pos gelees. Een beweer dat dit in die middestad gebeur het, maar die algemene konsensus was dat McIntosh na die westelike buitewyke van die stad gesleep is. Wat opmerklik is om te onthou, is dat die buitewyke van die stad in 1836 minder as 'n kilometer van die rivier af was. Die presiese ligging is onbekend, maar 'n paar berigte het die episode êrens naby die kruising van 7th en Chestnut geplaas.

Omdat ek gedink het dat daar 'n plek is om 'n drankie te gaan drink, was ek geskok om 'n Hooters op die presiese kruising te vind. Ek kon my net voorstel watter soort hel in my glas sou kom as ek daar 'n skemerkelkie bestel.

Net vir die plesier het ek besluit om te kyk wat sou gebeur as ek dit doen. Ek het ten minste gedink dat dit 'n goeie verhaal sou wees.

Ek gaan sit by die kroeg en word begroet deur die standaard Hooters -kelnerin. Sy was buitengewoon vriendelik, ingedruk in 'n hemp wat te klein was, en het geen idee hoe om 'n Manhattan te maak nie. Sy het my eintlik gebel “Baby ”.

Sy het weggehardloop om instruksies van haar bestuurder te kry. Toe sy terugkom, was ek aangenaam verras toe sy my vra of ek daarvan hou of op die rotse ('n goeie begin). Ek het dit met Jack Daniels bestel en sy het weer weggehardloop om dit te maak.

Terwyl ek wag vir haar terugkeer, kon ek nie oor die omgewing kom nie. In die eerste plek skyn die beligting in Hooters. Dit is so helder daar, ek het gevoel ek was in 'n polisielede. Miskien is dit die punt, maar jy kan beslis nie die skaduwees by 'n Hooters drink nie. Langs my by die kroeg was 'n man wat sy meisie vir Valentynsdag ingebring het. Ek kon nie anders as om te glimlag terwyl hulle soene tussen happies hoendervlerke uitruil nie.

My drankie kom in 'n rotsglas (skemerkelkies is nie 'n opsie by Hooters nie). Ek dink die verhouding van whisky tot vermout was ten minste vyf tot een. Met ander woorde, ek het 'n glas whisky gedrink. Verrassend genoeg is geen kersie bygevoeg nie. Wat nog vreemder is, is dat ek gesien het hoe die kelnerin dit sterk in ys skud, maar die drankie was lou toe ek 'n slukkie neem. Ek kan geen aanneemlike verduideliking gee nie.

Wat 'n ellendige drank -snob is ek, maar ek moet sê dat die ervaring regtig amusant was. Die personeel was uiters vriendelik en pret daaroor. Selfs die bestuurder het gekom en my gevra of die drankie goed is. Ek het gelieg en gesê dit is. Uiteindelik het hy gelag en gesê: "Ons kry nie gereeld die drankbestelling hier nie." Nee, ek wed dat hulle dit beslis nie sal doen nie.


Artikel geskryf deur John Davis

Lovejoy -monument: Fotokrediet

Elijah P. Lovejoy was 'n man met 'n diep, byna puriteinse geloof. Hy is op 9 November 1802 in Maine gebore en is later as skoolonderwyser opgelei. Maar toe hy die wêreld aanstap, misluk hy by elke onderwyspos wat hy probeer het. As 'n jong man in 'n groeiende land het 'n weldoener hom gehelp om na die weste na Illinois te trek. Weereens het mislukking sy pogings om te onderrig, ontmoet. Selfs toe hy die Mississippi na St. Louis, Missouri, oorgesteek het, kon hy nie 'n ordentlike bestaan ​​verdien nie.

Hy het bestaan ​​uit af en toe gepubliseerde artikels. Erger nog, hy het sy familie en vriende geskryf, hy voel daagliks besig met korrupsie, boosheid en sonde. Hy was bang vir sy siel. Niks en niemand kon hom na 'n weg van verlossing wys nie, en daarom keer hy terug na die ooste om daar 'n presbiteriaanse minister te word.

Mettertyd keer hy terug na St. Louis en begin 'n problematiese loopbaan as redakteur van 'n beginende godsdienstige koerant, die Die St. Louis Observer. Daarin veroordeel hy sonde, alkohol, tabak en ander denominasies. Dit het min vriende en 'n magdom vyande opgedoen. Na baie omstredenheid veroorsaak deur sy uiterste standpunte, het 'n ware konflik ontstaan ​​toe hy die oorsaak van slawerny aangeneem het.

Lovejoy het geglo dat God hom geroep het om slawerny teë te staan, en hy wou dit letterlik konfronteer in die bruisende Missouri -rivierdorp St. Louis, Missouri, sy nuwe tuiste. Missouri was a slave state, and there Lovejoy planned to proclaim God’s will.

The mystery of Mr. Lovejoy’s life revolves around four printing presses. His press was located in a building not far from the river’s edge. (This place no longer exists, destroyed along with the old warehouses along the levee to construct the St. Louis Arch in the 1960’s.) Lovejoy’s abolitionist views became more strident, as he used Die waarnemer to proclaim God’s opposition to slavery to St. Louisans ill disposed to hear it. And so the crisis of his life began.

A free black man, Francis McIntosh, was asked to help quell a fight on the waterfront. He refused to participate. Accused of not helping two policemen, he was placed in prison some blocks away. When he asked how long he’d be in jail, some said five years. He stabbed two police, killing one, and fled. Recaptured, he was dragged from prison by a white mob, who tied him to a nearby tree. They piled branches around him, and burned him alive. He died singing a hymn as the slow burning fire murdered him, finally begging those among the hundreds of bystanders to ‘Shoot me! Shoot me!.”

Lovejoy blasted away in print. He denounced the miscarriage of justice in the Observer. In time the case came to a grand jury. The presiding judge, ironically named Lawless, noted that since no individuals were identified at the scene, it was thus spontaneous mob action and therefore no case could be brought. And, Lawless advised the jurors, McIntosh’s case was typical of how free blacks were being turned against their white brethren by the likes of abolitionists such as Elijah P. Lovejoy.

Lovejoy did indeed denounce the crime, and also the hypocrisy: He wrote, “It is the day of our Nation’s birth. Even as we write, crowds are hurrying past our window in eager anticipation to the appointed bower, to listen to the declaration that, ‘ All men are created equal…..Alas, what a bitter mockery is this we assemble to thank God for our own freedom, and to eat with joy and gladness of heart, while our feet are on the necks of nearly 3,000,000 of our fellow-men. Not all our shouts of self-congratulation can drown their groans even the very flag which waves over our head is formed of material cultivated by slaves, on a soil moistened by their blood, drawn from them by the whip of a republican task-master.”

A mob, reading Lovejoy’s accounts of these events, marched on the Waarnemer and threw his printing press in the Mississippi. Lovejoy, though unrepentent and still fired with renewed zeal, nevertheless in fear for his family moved across the river to Alton, in the free state of Illinois. But all was not well.

He continued his denunciations of slavery. He said with the same fervor that he would speak freely, as an American, for which the Constitution protected him. “I plant myself down on my unquestionable rights, and the question to be decided is, whether I shall be protected in these rights? That is the question. You may hang me as the mob hung the individual at Vicksburg. You may burn me at the stake as they did old Mclntosh in St. Louis…the deepest of all disgrace would be at a time like this to deny my Maker by forsaking His cause. He died for me, and I were most unworthy to bear His name should I refuse, if need be, to die for Him.”

Again his presses were thrown into the Mississippi, this time by pro-slavery Illinoisians. Undeterred, Lovejoy was sent another printing press from admirers in New England. Again the citizens decided enough was enough and threw his new presses in the river. He declaimed even more stridently, “We distinctly avow it to be our settled purpose, never, while life lasts, to yield to this new system of attempting to destroy, by means of mob violence, the right of conscience, the freedom of opinion, and of the press.”

Again Lovejoy denounced slavery, slavers, and how free men should not abide such an evil. At last, Lovejoy’s fourth printing press arrived, unannounced, and was secreted in a warehouse in Alton. Somehow the mob got word, and went to destroy it. They were met by opposition, by Lovejoy and his colleagues armed and in the building. The mob swarmed against the edifice, and in the melee Lovejoy was shot, five times, by shotgun blasts. In the chaos, the new press was dumped unceremoniously into the Mississippi. He died a martyr in November 1837, the first American journalist to die in defense of the American free press. No one carried his body away for a day. He was buried in secret, for fear of the mob.

Today his body is buried in a well kept cemetery in Alton. There is a grand monument now to this first victim in defense of our freedom of speech and the free press. No one ever found any of his printing presses, thrown into the Mississippi. Brave men and women of the American press today bravely take up his cause that free Americans should be protected in their exercise of free speech. They comment on today’s affairs with the same courage as Abraham Lincoln who said, referring to Lovejoy and McIntosh, “….whenever the vicious portion of [our] population shall be permitted to gather in bands of hundreds and thousands, and burn churches, ravage and rob provision stores, throw printing-presses into rivers, and shoot editors, and hang and burn obnoxious persons at pleasure and with impunity, depend upon it, this government cannot last.” We owe Mr. Lovejoy a debt of gratitude.

Article written by John Davis

Read More from John

John William Davis is a retired US Army counterintelligence officer and linguist. As a linguist, Mr. Davis learned five languages, the better to serve in his counterintelligence jobs during some 14 years overseas. He served in West Germany, Italy, and the Netherlands during the Cold War. There he was active in investigations directed against the Communist espionage services of the Soviet Union and Warsaw Pact. His mission was also to investigate terrorists such as the Red Army Faction in Germany, the Red Brigades in Italy, and the Combatant Communist Cells (in Belgium) among a host of others.

His work during the Cold War and the bitter aftermath led him to write Rainy Street Stories, ‘Reflections on Secret Wars, Terrorism, and Espionage’ . He wanted to talk about not only the events themselves, but also the moral and human aspects of the secret world as well.

And now recently published in 2018, John continued his writing with Around the Corner: Reflections on American Wars, Violence, Terrorism, and Hope.

Two powerful books worth reading.

Read more about them in the following Six Questions:

Best of luck with all that you seek! Always Treasure the Adventure!

Jenny Kile

2 Comments

My school had a building named for this guy. It would be interesting to know if any attempt has ever been made to locate those presses, say by magnetometer. In a somewhat similar vein, a pro-slavery publisher in Portsmouth, NH had his presses destroyed by an abolitionist mob. The building that housed his newspaper still exists-

Dear Madesquare, When we read the actual events of those days, it is impressive how brutal, relentless, and uncompromising some people were. We see where it all led, once the voices of reason and compromise were shouted down. Like you, I wonder about those presses. Seems it would be a museum quality item which would have withstood the rigors of the river if recovered today.


'First To Fall': Tells The History Of Abolitionist Elijah Lovejoy

The journalist Ken Ellingwood took a break some years ago from journalism. He went to live in China and was hired to teach a university class about the ethics of American journalism and also some American journalism history.

KEN ELLINGWOOD: It was in the course of teaching about abolitionism and slavery that I introduced them to Elijah Lovejoy

INSKEEP: Elijah Lovejoy - a newspaper editor in the 1800s who wrote against slavery and was killed for it. Telling that American story in an authoritarian country so affected Ellingwood that he wrote a biography of Lovejoy. "First To Fall" tracks a New Englander who moved in the 1830s from the free state of Maine to the slave state of Missouri. He became a minister, edited a religious journal and lived in St. Louis amid enslaved people, an experience that gradually tugged at his conscience.

ELLINGWOOD: He was kind of an accidental abolitionist, or a reluctant one, at least. He was at first very antagonistic toward abolitionists, toward the antislavery movement. He was opposed to slavery on moral grounds. He believed it was a curse on American society. But he was reluctant to rock the boat. He believed that it was in the hands of slave owners to decide whether to emancipate or not. And he gradually - and I really stress this, it was gradual - he shifted his tone to worry not only about the slaves' souls and their religious training but also their lives and how they were being treated. And he began to write quite eloquently in his newspaper, The Observer, about those realities.

INSKEEP: How did people respond?

ELLINGWOOD: It wasn't long before people in St. Louis began to ask him to be quiet about slavery. He was beginning to anger people in elite positions in St. Louis, and he was attracting the kind of notice that could result in real trouble.

INSKEEP: And eventually a mob comes and smashes his press. And there's this, I want to say comical if it wasn't so tragic, sequence where he writes something, his press is smashed, he fixes the press, the press is smashed again.

ELLINGWOOD: He's chased from St. Louis, and he goes across the river to Alton, Ill. And there, he's supposed to be in a free state now. And yet in Illinois, his press is attacked several times. It's smashed he replaces it, or his friends help him replace it. In addition to that, he faces physical threats. He's waylaid on a road and threatened with tarring and feathering. He's facing any number of threats and continues, in spite of all of this, to insist on his right to publish.

INSKEEP: How was he killed?

ELLINGWOOD: After the third press was destroyed, it was a moment of reckoning for Lovejoy and his supporters, and it was a question for all of them to decide whether to continue this - in trying to publish his newspaper or not. And Lovejoy, in spite of all the attacks that had happened already, in spite of the threats that had occurred and the terror that his family had endured, wanted to continue. The fourth press was delivered to Alton by steamboat in November of 1837, and his friends spirited it up to a warehouse that was owned by a supporter and a friend of Lovejoy's. And in that warehouse, the press sat in an attic while Lovejoy and his friends gathered below to defend it against the attack that they were fairly certain was going to come. And it did come. The riot that occurred at the warehouse lasted for some hours. Eventually, the mob set the warehouse on fire, and Lovejoy and a couple of friends were shot by gunmen who were waiting outside that door when they came out.

INSKEEP: What did people make of that murder in 1837?

ELLINGWOOD: John Quincy Adams, the former president, who was a congressman from Massachusetts, described it as being like an earthquake when Lovejoy was killed because of the shock of an editor falling to the lawless, you know, acts of a mob. And so this killing was a wake-up call in the North in that it signaled to people that the defense of slavery by the South, the lengths that they would go to to defend this institution, endangered also the rights of free whites in the North.

INSKEEP: Was he influential, then, in death?

ELLINGWOOD: I would say that he was. It would be wrong to say that he had a giant impact on the antislavery movement, but it would not be wrong to say that he influenced and directed, helped steer the definition of press freedom in the modern era. We - our conception, our modern conception of a free press owes much to Elijah Lovejoy, to the notion that we have a right to publish, even if those opinions are unpalatable to people around us in the community, that all opinion is part of the public discourse and belongs in a democracy.

INSKEEP: This is a very dark story that shows a dark side of America. Yet it's inspiring in a way, his stubbornness and getting one printing press after another.

ELLINGWOOD: Yes, his principle in this, his courage is remarkable to me. As a journalist myself, I understand that, you know, a lot of what makes us work well as journalists is what we're willing to do when we're alone, you know, when it's just us deciding how far do I dare go on this story?

INSKEEP: When you laid all this out in that classroom in China some years ago, how did your students, your Chinese students, respond?

ELLINGWOOD: Well, I could see it in their - in the essays that they wrote, you know, comparing Lovejoy to, you know, heroes in their own lore and to see this reaction in them - remember, of course, we know, you know, China is a place where press freedom doesn't really exist. It was very inspiring to me to see just how well they got it. And I found their reaction to be really quite moving.

INSKEEP: Ken Ellingwood's new book is called "First To Fall: Elijah Lovejoy And The Fight For A Free Press In The Age Of Slavery." Baie dankie.

ELLINGWOOD: Thanks for having me.

(SOUNDBITE OF DAVID GOODRICH'S "CODA") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.


Elijah Lovejoy Plater

The platter shown here was part of a set of dishes used by the family of Elijah Parish Lovejoy. Lovejoy was the editor of The Alton Observer , an abolitionist newspaper. He was murdered at Alton, Illinois, on Nov. 7, 1837, by a pro-slavery mob who came to his place of business intent on destroying Lovejoy’s printing press. Lovejoy became a national martyr for freedom.

The platter was donated to MCHS by a member of Lovejoy’s extended family in 1937. In an Alton Telegraph interview at the time, the donor said that a platter and four plates were all that remained of a much larger set. She confessed that, “I did not realize the value of these dishes or I would have been more careful with them.”

Information for this article was obtained from resources at the Madison County Archival Library, the Madison County Recorder and Probate Offices, Edwardsville Public Library and from current and previous owners. If you have questions about this article, contact Cindy Reinhardt at 656-1294 or [email protected].

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Elijah Parish Lovejoy

Elijah Parish Lovejoy (November 9, 1802 – November 7, 1837) was an American Presbyterian minister, journalist, and newspaper editor who was murdered by a mob in Alton, Illinois for his abolitionist views.

Lovejoy had a deeply religious upbringing, as his father was a Congregational minister and his mother a devout Christian. He attended Waterville College (now Colby College) in his home state of Maine, and graduated at the top of his class, with first class honors. Afterwards, he traveled to Illinois and, after realizing that the area was largely unsettled, he moved to St. Louis, Missouri in 1827. There, Lovejoy worked as an editor of an anti-Jacksonian newspaper and ran a school. Five years later, influenced by the Revivalist movement, he chose to become a preacher. He attended the Princeton Theological Seminary and became an ordained Presbyterian preacher. Once he returned to St. Louis, he set up a church and became the editor of a weekly religious newspaper, the St. Louis Observer. He wrote a number of editorials, critical of other religions and slavery. In May 1836, he was run out of town by his opponents after he chastised Judge Luke E. Lawfull, who had chosen not to charge individuals linked to a mob lynching of a free black man-who had been jailed after killing two law officers. [1]

Lovejoy moved to Alton, Illinois, where he became editor of the Alton Observer. On three occasions, his printing press was destroyed by pro-slavery factions who wanted to stop his publishing abolitionist views. On November 7, 1837, a pro-slavery mob approached a warehouse belonging to merchant Winthrop Sargent Gilman that held Lovejoy's fourth printing press. Lovejoy and his supporters exchanged gunfire with the mob. The leaders of the mob decided to burn down Gilman's warehouse, so they got a ladder and set it alongside the building. They attempted to climb up ladder to set fire to the warehouse's wooden roof, but Lovejoy and one of his supporters stopped them. After the mob set up their ladder along the side of the building for a second time, Lovejoy went outside to intervene, but he was promptly shot with a shotgun and died on the spot. Lovejoy was hailed as a martyr by abolitionists across the country. He was honored by the naming of monuments and buildings in his memory. His brother Owen entered politics after his death and became the leader of the Illinois abolitionists. Lovejoy also had a cousin, Nathan A. Farwell, who served as a U.S. Senator from Maine.

Early life Lovejoy was born at his grandfather's frontier farmhouse near Albion, Maine as the first of the nine children of Reverend Daniel Lovejoy and Elizabeth Pattee.[2] Lovejoy's father was a Congregational preacher and farmer and his mother, a devout Christian. Daniel Lovejoy named his son "Elijah Parish" in honor of his close friend and mentor, the Reverend Elijah Parish.[3] Due to his own deprived education, he encouraged his sons�niel, Joseph Cammett, Owen, John and Elijah—to become educated men. As a result, Elijah was taught to read the Bible and other theological texts at an early age. After completing his early studies in public schools, Lovejoy attended the Academy at Monmouth and China Academy. After becoming proficient enough in Latin and mathematics, he enrolled at Waterville College (now Colby College) in Waterville, Maine as a sophomore in 1823.[4] He excelled in his studies, and upon faculty recommendation, he became a teacher at the college's preparatory division. Lovejoy received financial support from Reverend Benjamin Tappan to continue his attendance at Waterville College.[5]

Despite his academic success, Lovejoy had a number of emotional troubles, and at one point, he even contemplated committing suicide.[6] Although he was able to overcome these thoughts, he was still deeply affected by a feeling of being alone. He had been brought up in a simple atmosphere, in which he learned to think of religion as the most important aspect of his life. However, the atmosphere of the world outside his home was very complex, and he found himself alienated by people, many of whom did not adhere to his religious beliefs.[5]

In September 1826, Lovejoy graduated from Waterville College with first class honors[7] at the top of his class.[8] During the winter and spring, he taught at China Academy. Unsatisfied with the mundane teaching environment, Lovejoy contemplated moving to the South or Western United States. His former teachers at Waterville College advised him that he would best serve God in the West.[9] Lovejoy agreed with their words, and in May 1827, he said goodbye to his family and went to Boston. He searched for a job to fund his journey to Illinois, his chosen destination, but was unsuccessful.[10] He left the city and headed to Illinois by foot. He stopped in New York City in mid-June, with the intention of again trying to find employment to fund his travels. Lovejoy had difficulties searching for a job, but was eventually able to land a position with the Saturday Evening Gazette as a newspaper subscription peddler. For nearly five weeks, he walked up and down streets, knocking on peoples' doors and wheedling passersby, in hopes of getting them to subscribe to the newspaper.[11] Lovejoy was still struggling with his finances, and so, he wrote a letter to Reverend Jeremiah Chaplin, the president of Waterville College, explaining his situation. Chaplin unhesitatingly sent the money that his former student so desperately needed.[11] Lovejoy promptly embarked on his journey to Illinois, reaching Hillsboro, Montgomery County in the fall of 1827. Lovejoy did not think he could maximally realize his potential in Illinois's scantly settled land, so he headed for St. Louis.

In St. Louis, Lovejoy quickly established himself as the editor of the anti-Jacksonian newspaper, the St. Louis Observer, and as the headmaster of a coeducational private school. In 1832, upon influence of the Christian revivalist movement led by abolitionist David Nelson, he decided to become a preacher.[13] He then studied at the Princeton Theological Seminary, and upon completion, went to Philadelphia, where he became an ordained minister of the Presbyterian Church in April 1833. Upon returning to St. Louis, he set up a Presbyterian church and also became editor of a weekly religious newspaper, the St. Louis Observer. In 1835, Lovejoy married Celia Ann French, who would later bear him two children.

Death On November 7, 1837, pro-slavery partisans congregated and approached Gilman's warehouse, where the printing press had been hidden. According to the Alton Observer, shots were then fired by the pro-slavery advocates, and balls from muskets whizzed through the windows of the warehouse, narrowly missing the defenders inside. Lovejoy and his men returned fire. Several people in the crowd were hit, and one was killed.

As some began to demand the warehouse be set on fire, leaders of the mob called for a ladder, which was put up on the side of the warehouse. A boy with a torch was sent up to set fire to the wooden roof. Lovejoy and one of his supporters, Royal Weller, volunteered to stop the boy. The two men crept outside, hiding in the shadows of the building. Surprising the pro-slavery partisans, Lovejoy and Weller rushed to the ladder, pushed it over and quickly retreated inside.

Once again a ladder was put in place. As Lovejoy and Weller made another attempt to overturn the ladder, they were spotted. Lovejoy was shot with a shotgun loaded with slugs. He was hit five times and killed Weller was wounded. Suffering the same fate as its predecessors, the new printing press was destroyed it was carried to a window and thrown out onto the riverbank. The printing press was then broken into pieces that were scattered in the river.

Afterwards, Lovejoy was considered a martyr by the abolition movement, and in his name, his brother Owen Lovejoy became the leader of the Illinois abolitionists. His murder was a sign of the increasing tension within the country leading up to the Civil War, and it is for this reason that he is considered to be the "first casualty of the Civil War."

Legacy Elijah Lovejoy is buried in Alton Cemetery in Madison County, Illinois. In the late 1890s, local citizens erected a monument to Lovejoy's memory within the cemetery, created by Richard Bock. The monument commemorates his dual commitment to both freedom and freedom of the press. The memorial mainly consists of a tall column topped by a symbolic figure. The monument overlooks the Mississippi, meaning that visitors who come to see the monument can also see the river into which his presses were thrown.

Lovejoy is buried some fifty yards away, beyond the farthest reach of the memorial figure's longest shadow. The monuments of some of his supporters are near the burial site.

The Lovejoy Library at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville is named in his honor it was initially proposed to name the whole university after him. The African American village of Brooklyn, Illinois (popularly known as Lovejoy), located just north of East St. Louis, is also named for him. The Albert King album and song "Lovejoy, Illinois" draws its name from the town.

The Elijah Parish Lovejoy Award, given annually by Colby College, Lovejoy's alma mater, honors a member of the newspaper profession who "has contributed to the nation's journalistic achievement." A major classroom building at Colby is also named for Lovejoy. Elijah Lovejoy also has a star on the St. Louis Walk of Fame.

The Elijah Parish and Owen Lovejoy Scholarship, was founded in February 2003 and is given annually by Reed College.


ɿirst To Fall': Tells The History Of Abolitionist Elijah Lovejoy

The journalist Ken Ellingwood took a break some years ago from journalism. He went to live in China and was hired to teach a university class about the ethics of American journalism and also some American journalism history.

KEN ELLINGWOOD: It was in the course of teaching about abolitionism and slavery that I introduced them to Elijah Lovejoy

INSKEEP: Elijah Lovejoy - a newspaper editor in the 1800s who wrote against slavery and was killed for it. Telling that American story in an authoritarian country so affected Ellingwood that he wrote a biography of Lovejoy. "First To Fall" tracks a New Englander who moved in the 1830s from the free state of Maine to the slave state of Missouri. He became a minister, edited a religious journal and lived in St. Louis amid enslaved people, an experience that gradually tugged at his conscience.

ELLINGWOOD: He was kind of an accidental abolitionist, or a reluctant one, at least. He was at first very antagonistic toward abolitionists, toward the antislavery movement. He was opposed to slavery on moral grounds. He believed it was a curse on American society. But he was reluctant to rock the boat. He believed that it was in the hands of slave owners to decide whether to emancipate or not. And he gradually - and I really stress this, it was gradual - he shifted his tone to worry not only about the slaves' souls and their religious training but also their lives and how they were being treated. And he began to write quite eloquently in his newspaper, The Observer, about those realities.

INSKEEP: How did people respond?

ELLINGWOOD: It wasn't long before people in St. Louis began to ask him to be quiet about slavery. He was beginning to anger people in elite positions in St. Louis, and he was attracting the kind of notice that could result in real trouble.

INSKEEP: And eventually a mob comes and smashes his press. And there's this, I want to say comical if it wasn't so tragic, sequence where he writes something, his press is smashed, he fixes the press, the press is smashed again.

ELLINGWOOD: He's chased from St. Louis, and he goes across the river to Alton, Ill. And there, he's supposed to be in a free state now. And yet in Illinois, his press is attacked several times. It's smashed he replaces it, or his friends help him replace it. In addition to that, he faces physical threats. He's waylaid on a road and threatened with tarring and feathering. He's facing any number of threats and continues, in spite of all of this, to insist on his right to publish.

INSKEEP: How was he killed?

ELLINGWOOD: After the third press was destroyed, it was a moment of reckoning for Lovejoy and his supporters, and it was a question for all of them to decide whether to continue this - in trying to publish his newspaper or not. And Lovejoy, in spite of all the attacks that had happened already, in spite of the threats that had occurred and the terror that his family had endured, wanted to continue. The fourth press was delivered to Alton by steamboat in November of 1837, and his friends spirited it up to a warehouse that was owned by a supporter and a friend of Lovejoy's. And in that warehouse, the press sat in an attic while Lovejoy and his friends gathered below to defend it against the attack that they were fairly certain was going to come. And it did come. The riot that occurred at the warehouse lasted for some hours. Eventually, the mob set the warehouse on fire, and Lovejoy and a couple of friends were shot by gunmen who were waiting outside that door when they came out.

INSKEEP: What did people make of that murder in 1837?

ELLINGWOOD: John Quincy Adams, the former president, who was a congressman from Massachusetts, described it as being like an earthquake when Lovejoy was killed because of the shock of an editor falling to the lawless, you know, acts of a mob. And so this killing was a wake-up call in the North in that it signaled to people that the defense of slavery by the South, the lengths that they would go to to defend this institution, endangered also the rights of free whites in the North.

INSKEEP: Was he influential, then, in death?

ELLINGWOOD: I would say that he was. It would be wrong to say that he had a giant impact on the antislavery movement, but it would not be wrong to say that he influenced and directed, helped steer the definition of press freedom in the modern era. We - our conception, our modern conception of a free press owes much to Elijah Lovejoy, to the notion that we have a right to publish, even if those opinions are unpalatable to people around us in the community, that all opinion is part of the public discourse and belongs in a democracy.

INSKEEP: This is a very dark story that shows a dark side of America. Yet it's inspiring in a way, his stubbornness and getting one printing press after another.

ELLINGWOOD: Yes, his principle in this, his courage is remarkable to me. As a journalist myself, I understand that, you know, a lot of what makes us work well as journalists is what we're willing to do when we're alone, you know, when it's just us deciding how far do I dare go on this story?

INSKEEP: When you laid all this out in that classroom in China some years ago, how did your students, your Chinese students, respond?

ELLINGWOOD: Well, I could see it in their - in the essays that they wrote, you know, comparing Lovejoy to, you know, heroes in their own lore and to see this reaction in them - remember, of course, we know, you know, China is a place where press freedom doesn't really exist. It was very inspiring to me to see just how well they got it. And I found their reaction to be really quite moving.

INSKEEP: Ken Ellingwood's new book is called "First To Fall: Elijah Lovejoy And The Fight For A Free Press In The Age Of Slavery." Baie dankie.

ELLINGWOOD: Thanks for having me.

(SOUNDBITE OF DAVID GOODRICH'S "CODA") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.


Kyk die video: Elijah P Lovejoy, First Amendment Rally, August 21, 2013