Part 11 (1/2)

And thus it was that when Abolitionism may be said to have been lost by merger elsewhere, it remained in its independence and integrity in slaveholding Missouri, where it kept up a struggle for free soil, and in four years so far made itself master of the situation that a const.i.tutional State convention, chosen by popular vote, adopted an ordinance under which an emanc.i.p.ationist Governor issued his proclamation, declaring that ”hence and forever no person within the jurisdiction of the State shall be subject to any abridgment of liberty, except such as the law shall prescribe for the common good, or know any master but G.o.d.”

The writer entered on this work with no purpose of relating or discussing the story of the Republican party, in whole or in any part.

His subject was Abolitionism, and his task would now be completed but for the movement in the State of Missouri, to which reference has just been made. That manifestation, he thinks, is deserving of recognition, both on its own account and as a continuation of the original movement, and he is the more inclined to contribute to its discussion because he was then a Missourian by residence, and had something to do with its successful prosecution.

CHAPTER XX

MISSOURI

In his interesting, though rather melodramatic, romance, _The Crisis_, Winston Churchill tells the imaginary story of a young lawyer who went from New England to St. Louis, and settled there shortly before the outbreak of the Civil War. Having an abundance of leisure, and being an Abolitionist, he devoted a portion of the time that was not absorbed by his profession to writing articles on slavery for the _Missouri Democrat_, which, notwithstanding its name, was the organ of the Missouri emanc.i.p.ationists, and lived in part on the money he received as compensation for that work. That in part describes the author's experience. He was at that time a young lawyer in St. Louis, to which place he had come from the North, and those who have read the earlier chapters of this work are aware that he was an Abolitionist.

Having a good deal of time that was not taken up by his professional employments, he occupied a portion of it in writing Anti-Slavery contributions to the _Democrat_, and, so far as he knows, he was the only person who to any extent did so. A collection was made of a portion of his articles, and with money contributed by friends of the cause, they were published in pamphlet form under the t.i.tle of _Hints toward Emanc.i.p.ation in Missouri_, and distributed throughout the State.

There the parallelism of the cases ceases. The writer got no pecuniary compensation for his labor. He asked for none and expected none. The _Democrat_ was then in no condition to pay for volunteer services, having a hard struggle for existence. He was able to do it a service that, possibly, saved it from at least a temporary suspension. One of its chief difficulties was in getting printing paper, the manufacturer it had been patronizing declining to furnish it except for cash, while the _Democrat_ needed partial credit. At that time Louis Snyder, of Hamilton, Ohio, a large paper-maker, visited St. Louis on business that called for legal a.s.sistance, and I was employed by him. When the work in hand was finished, I remarked that there was something else he might do in St. Louis that would pay him. I explained the situation of the _Democrat_, and a.s.sured him that, in my opinion, he would be perfectly safe in giving trust to its proprietors, who were honest men.

”Will you indorse their paper?” he asked.

Mr. Snyder was a crafty as well as a thrifty German.

I replied that, as I was not a wealthy man, the question did not seem to be pertinent.

”Will you indorse their paper for one thousand dollars?” was his next question.

Being by this time somewhat ”s.p.u.n.ked up,” I replied that I would.

”Then I shall be pleased to meet your friends,” said Mr. Snyder.

The result of the interview that followed was such that the _Democrat_ was materially a.s.sisted in continuing its publication.

It is hardly necessary to state that I never heard anything more of the one-thousand-dollar indors.e.m.e.nt, the sole purpose of which was, doubtless, to test my sincerity.

Soon afterwards I was offered the political editors.h.i.+p of the _Democrat_, which I accepted on the one condition that there was to be ”no let-up on emanc.i.p.ation.” I held the position until Missouri was a free State.

In a surprisingly short time after the question of Missouri's status in reference to the Union was decided, the issue between Pro-Slaveryism and Anti-Slaveryism came up. Political parties ranged themselves upon it. Those who favored slavery's immediate or speedy abolishment became known as Radicals, while those advocating its prolongation were called Conservatives. Those descriptives, however, were too mild for such a time, and they were quickly superseded by a more expressive local nomenclature. The Radicals, because of their alleged sympathy with the negro, were branded as ”Charcoals,” and their opponents, made up of Republicans, Democrats, and Semi-Unionists, because of the variegated complexion of the mixture, were set down as ”Claybanks.” Mulattoes are Claybanks.

The Claybanks, or Conservatives, at the outset enjoyed a decided advantage in having the State government on their side. This was not the regularly elected administration, which was driven out because of its open support of secession, but its provisional successor. In trying to take the State out of the Union with a show of legality, the lawful Governor and his official a.s.sociates made provision for a State convention to be chosen by the people, which they expected to control, but which, having a Unionist majority, played the boomerang on them by sending them adrift and taking the affairs of the State into its own hands. In this it had opposition. The most progressive men of the State insisted that, after it had settled the question of Missouri's relations to the Union, with reference to which it was specially chosen, it was _functus officio_. They held that there should be a new and up-to-date convention, especially as the old one, owing to the desertion of many of its treasonably inclined members, including General Sterling Price, of the Confederate Army, who was its first president, had become ”a rump,” and so there were old-conventionists and new-conventionists. The old-convention men, however, were in the saddle. They had the governmental machinery, and were resolved to hold on to it. In that spirit the convention proceeded to fill the vacant offices. It was in sentiment strongly pro-slavery, as was shown by the fact that a proposal looking to the very gradual extinguishment of slavery was rejected by it in an almost unanimous vote, a circ.u.mstance that led the leading pro-slavery journal of the State to boast that the convention had killed emanc.i.p.ation ”at the first pop.” Very naturally such a body selected pro-slavery officials. Hamilton R.

Gamble, whom it made Governor, was a bigoted supporter of ”the inst.i.tution.” He had not long before been mixed up in the proceedings that compelled Elijah P. Lovejoy to leave Missouri for Alton, Illinois, where he was murdered by a pro-slavery mob. Gamble was an able and ambitious man.

The Conservatives, likewise, had the backing of the Federal Administration--a statement that to a good many people nowadays will be surprising. There were reasons why such should be the case. Judge Bates, of Missouri, who was Attorney-General in Lincoln's Cabinet, had long been Gamble's law partner and most intimate friend. He never was more than nominally a Republican. Another member of the Cabinet was Montgomery Blair, of Maryland, who had been a resident of Missouri, and was a brother of General Francis P. Blair, Jr., of St. Louis.

General Blair had been the leader of the Missouri emanc.i.p.ationists, but had turned against them. For his face-about there were, at least, two intelligible reasons. One was that in the quarrel between him and Fremont the most of his former followers had sided with Fremont. That was enough to sour him against them. The other was a very natural desire to be solid with the administration at Was.h.i.+ngton, which, as elsewhere shown, was not then actively Anti-Slavery. It did not want the question of slavery agitated, especially in the border slave States.

The Blairs were a clan as well as a family. The quarrel of one was the quarrel of all, and the Missouri Radicals had no more effective antagonist than the old Was.h.i.+ngton editor and politician, Francis P.

Blair, Sr., the family's head, who was so intimate with the President that it was understood he could at any time enter the White House by the kitchen door.

The writer was once a member of a delegation of Missouri ”Charcoals”

that went to Was.h.i.+ngton to see the President. An hour was set for the interview, and we were promptly at the door of the President's chamber, where we were kept waiting for a considerable time. At last the door opened, but before we could enter, out stepped a little old man who tripped away very lightly for one of his years. That little old man was Francis P. Blair, Sr., and we knew that we had been forestalled. The President received us politely and patiently listened to what we had to say, but our mission was fruitless.

The Radicals of Missouri sent deputation after deputation to the White House, and got nothing they wanted. The Conservatives never sent a deputation, and got all they wanted. They had advocates at the President's elbows all the time.