George Washington Flowers 
 Memorial Collection 
 
 ESTABLISHED BY THE 
 
 FAMILY OF 
 
 COLONEL FLOWERS 
 

 
 
 
 
 -.-vi 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/fivefamousmissou01holl 
 
i 
 
 
 7 
 
Five Famous Missourians 
 
 Autlienticated Biographical 
 Sketches of 
 
 Samuel L. Clemens, Richard F. Bland, 
 
 Champ Clark, James M. Greenwood 
 
 and Joseph 0. Shelby. 
 
 BY 
 
 WILFRED R. HOLLISTER and HARRY NORMAN. 
 
 With Introdiictories by 
 
 Walter Williams, Hon. Champ Clark, Hon. Joseph W. Bailey, 
 Professor John R.Kirk, and Mrs. T. J. Henry. 
 
 Kansas City, Mo.: 
 
 Hudson-Kimberly Publishing Co., 
 
 1900. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, 
 in the year 1899, 
 
 Hy WILFRED R. HOLLISTER and HARRY NORMAN, 
 In tlie oflice of the Librarian of Congress, 
 Washington, D. C. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 

 , THE FLOWERS COLLECTION 
 
 i U ' ■ 
 
 , )-> " 7 H Y f 
 
 PKEPAOE. 
 
 Ill the i^reparation and publication of this volume, 
 the authors have been conscious at all times of 
 the difficulties in justly presenting the life-work and 
 character of the subjects in the scope of this work, so 
 their aim has been to touch chiefly upon the high 
 places, so to speak, and to present their subjects in 
 concise form. The sketches given here may, therefore, 
 be deemed indices to larger and more comprehensive 
 l)iograi)hies. if they ever be written. The governing 
 jmrpose of the volume is to seek the preservation of 
 a. few essential elements in- the life-stories of five of 
 Missouri’s famous men. 
 
 In dealing with these sketches, the authors have 
 endeavored, so far as possible, to be authentic in all 
 particulars. In addition it has also been their en- 
 deavor to utilize all available new material, instead of 
 presenting certain incidents that hitherto have been 
 familiar to the reading public. The data relating to the 
 subjects has been furnished the authors almost entirely 
 by members of the families and personal friends of the 
 subjects, and has been authenticated by reference to 
 them, in order that apocrvphal matter might not be 
 used. ^ 
 
 494944 
 
4 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Ackjiowledgments are due to the sul)jects, their 
 fauiilies and friends, including well-known Eastern and 
 W estern newsi^aper men and writers, members of Con- 
 gi'ess and the Missoni-i Legislature, prominent edu- 
 cators, prominent veterans of the Civil War, well- 
 known men of affairs, and others. 
 
 Special acknowledgments are due to the press of 
 Missouri and sinrounding states for editorial coiirt(' 
 sies and encouragement, and to Walter Williams, edi 
 tor of the Columbia, Mo., Herald, Congressmen Champ 
 (ffark and Joseph W. Hailej, l*rof. John K. Kirk, and 
 Mrs. T. J. Henry, a close friend of the Shelby family, 
 for their introductories to these sketches. 
 
 Acknowledgments are due the Illustrated Sunday 
 Express, Buffalo, K. Y., for the use of perhaps the best 
 ])hotograph of Mr. Clemens ever published, procured 
 and copyrighted by the Express. 
 
 In return for the favors of Mrs. Bland, and of Inu' 
 husband before his lamented death, the authors beg 
 to commend the readers of this volume to Mrs. Bland’s 
 forthcoming work on the life of her renowned husband, 
 which is written from a point of view no one else can 
 ever attain. 
 
 If “Five Famous Missourians” succeeds in open- 
 ing to abler biographers the rich fields of Missouri 
 biography, which have lain undeveloped for years, the 
 authors will be fully satisfied with the time and labor 
 spent in compiling and writing this volume. 
 
SA/nUEL L. CLE/AENS, 
 
 ‘‘nARK TWAIN.” 
 
 LITTERA IkUR. 
 
 494944 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 Missouri claims Mark Twain for its very own. 
 True, lie hasn’t been in the State for years, and to its 
 residents — the vast majority — he is only a title-page. 
 Yet the commonwealth writes his name upon its roll 
 of sons distinguished and watches with maternal pride 
 his globe-girdling career. 
 
 Mark Twain is not a Missourian simply because he 
 was born in Missouri. That sometimes makes a child 
 a Missourian and sometimes it makes him a Democrat. 
 Not everyone who is ushered into this world upon the 
 State’s fruitful soil becomes Missourian. Occasion- 
 ally one turns out to be Mugwump. Birth is indeed 
 the least of .the facts which bolster Mark Twain’s claim 
 to graduation into the ranks of the Alumni of the 
 State. 
 
 It was here that Mr. Clemens learned letters at 
 school and letter-boxes in the printing office. Here he 
 found the characters the world will longest hold in 
 memory. Tom Sawyer was a Missouri boy. Huckle- 
 berry Finn started on his life of mingled good and gall 
 from a back-alley in Missouri. The old cave below 
 Hannibal is still haunted by recollections of Injun 
 Joe. The New Madrid district gave to the world 
 Pudd’nhead Wilson, with his thumb-print tragedy and 
 thumb-nail philosophy. And both the author’s names 
 _ — pen name and patronymic — are products of Missouri 
 parentage. 
 
8 
 
 INTBODVGTION. 
 
 Possibly had Mr. Clemens been less worthy of rec- 
 ognition, Missouri would not have recognized him so 
 readily as a son when he rose to speak in the parlia- 
 ment of literature. Had Homer been voiceless as well 
 as blind, no seven cities would have claimed him theirs. 
 But the fame which Mark Twain has won in the rich 
 fields of humor and of prose more serious, the (juaintly 
 attractive personality of the man himself, and more 
 than all, his sturdy manfulness in stress of largest dif- 
 ficulty, have called to mind in Missouri, that Mark 
 Twain really belongs to the State which *gave him 
 birth. 
 
 The humor delicious, the bright quips and quirks 
 which only Mark Twain knows how to write down in 
 the gray clothes of print, the sober fact and the fiction 
 which is truer in its realism than the soberest fact, the 
 high purpose which increases as years strengthen and 
 soften the author’s bright style — all combine to make 
 Mai k Twain a writer beloved. Alike beloved he is by 
 the pecking critics and by the common people, whose 
 judgment is saner and whose appreciation is more to 
 be desired than that of all the critics since Cain, the 
 first, complained. 
 
 Mr. Clemens is writing a book not to be read until 
 a century has passed. May he live to read it himself! 
 The sum of the world’s enjoyment would be increased 
 for a hundred years thereby. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 
 ANOESTKY AXD BOYHOOD. 
 
 Despite its lack of sectional conceit and notwith- 
 standing the assumed literary priority of other parts of 
 the land, the West has been particularly prolific in the 
 production of literarw men conspicuous not only in their 
 own field of labor, nor in the province alone in which 
 they lived, but writers who have become nationally 
 and even internationally great. 
 
 Unquestionably there is no more conspicuous ex- 
 ample, illustrative of this fact, than the one found in 
 the person of Samuel Laugiiorue Clemens, the distin- 
 guished Missourian, who as "Mark Twain,” the littera- 
 teur and Immorist, has delighted the reading public of 
 two continents with his inimitable sketches; his 
 works of quaint, whimsical humor; his absorbingly 
 interesting historical romances, and the other depart 
 lueiits of literature in which he has achieved success 
 and distinction. 
 
 In the literature of the people of one language 
 there always stand out illustriously certain men and 
 personalities, which over all others are distinctive, i)re- 
 eniiuent, and overshadowing. Perhaps in the litera- 
 ture of the English language there are few names more 
 worthy of exaltation to the high places in the list of 
 
10 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MTSSOORfANS. 
 
 litterateurs than Mark Twain; and few pens more 
 versatile, more masterful and powerful than that of 
 Mark Twain. 
 
 Of the five Missourians whose lives are herein 
 sketched, Samuel L. Clemens is the only native-born 
 Missourian, the remainder being Missourians by adop- 
 tion. It should, therefore, be a source of pride to Mis- 
 sourians that out of their own State has emanated one 
 of the greatest literary men of the nineteenth century. 
 
 « 
 
 Over tliree-quarters of a century ago, in the town of 
 Columbia, Kentucky, there lived a beautiful girl, Jane 
 Lampton, who was admired for her beauty and accom- 
 plishments in all the country about. Perhaps her 
 name is unfamiliar to even the most erudite of readers, 
 yet she deserves to be remembered as tlie mother of 
 America’s distinguished humorist, Mark Twain. 
 
 As a girl she was beautiful, with curly auburn hair, 
 hazel eyes, fair complexion, and rosy cheeks. A former 
 suitor of Jane Lampton once said of her: “She was 
 
 the prettiest girl in all Columbia, excepting, of course, 
 my wife,” and he always referred to her as “the pret- 
 tiest' woman he ‘ever seen.’ ” 
 
 Jane Lampton was born in the year of the birth 
 of Abraham Lincoln, 1809, which some person has 
 called “the year of great babies,” and in the State of 
 his nativity, Kentucky. In the early childhood of 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 11 
 
 Jane, her parents removed to Columbia, where her 
 girlhood was spent. Her uncle, Lewis Lampton, was 
 the proprietor of a hotel that was known in all the sur- 
 rounding region for its hospitality. On Christmas and 
 other holidays the young people from the sparsely- 
 settled neighboring counties were wont to gather there 
 for music and dancing, and among all these fair Ken- 
 tucky maidens, Jane Lampton and her sister were the 
 prettiest and most popular. 
 
 Jane Lampton had many admirers, but of all her 
 suitors John Marshall Clemens was the favored one. 
 His mother was Miss Paimelia Goggin, of Virginia, 
 and of her life a romantic story is told. In the “Old 
 Dominion” two suitors plead for her favors; one was 
 Samuel Clemens, Mark Twain’s grandfather, and the 
 other was Simon Hancock. For awhile she received 
 the attentions of both, but eventually she chose Mr. 
 Clemens and married him. Of this union five children 
 were born, John Marshall Clemens being one of the 
 number. 
 
 Like many disappointed lovers, Simon Hancock re 
 solved to leave the environments of his youth and seek 
 solace in a new country. He was soon in Kentucky, 
 settling in a portion of the country now embraced in 
 the county of Adair. Here, like other pioneers of “the 
 Dark and Bloody Ground,” he fought the cunning In- 
 dian, hunted the panther, deer, and bear, felled the 
 trees, and builded a log house for himself alone, as he 
 
12 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 thought, but, as the sequel proved, another was to 
 share it with him. 
 
 About this time there came to Kentucky a brother 
 of the woman who had rejected him and who began 
 clearing for a homestead in the same neighborhood 
 where lived Mr. Hancock. Soon thereafter in Virginia 
 Samuel Clemens was the victim of an accident, which 
 resulted in his death. “House-raisings” were in vogue 
 in those days, and while participating in one of these 
 events a log fell, fatally injuring him. When the 
 widow’s brother in Kentucky was apprised of this un- 
 fortunate occurrence, he immediately wrote and invited 
 her and her children to come and share his Western 
 home. The widow accepted this invitation, removed 
 to Kentucky, and there met her former lover, Simon 
 Hancock. To him she appeared as handsome as when 
 he first paid homage to her charms; to Mrs. Clemens, 
 Mr. Hancock appeared more manly and conrteous than 
 when she had known him in Virginia. He again wooed 
 her and soon induced her to become Mrs. Hancock. 
 
 Thus it came about that John Marshall Clemens 
 came with his mother from Virginia to Kentucky, 
 whei'e he grew into manhood; later met Jane Lamptou 
 and was united in marriage with her. The young 
 couple did i;ot long reside in Kentucky, but soon re- 
 moved to Gainesboro, Tennessee, where their oldest 
 son, Orion, was born. From Gainesboro they moved 
 to Fentress County, in the same State, where a daugh- 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 13 
 
 ter, Parmelia, was born. From Sparta, Tennessee, the 
 family removed to Florida, Missouri, where a son, 
 Henry, was born. 
 
 Also, it was in the village of Florida, Monroe Coun- 
 ty, Missouri, a picturesque place, with environments 
 almost as Nature created them, that Samuel Langhorne 
 Clemens was born, November 30, 1835. The village is 
 situated upon a high elevation of land, which was orig- 
 inally a favorite habitation of the Mound Builders and 
 other aborigines, as numerous mounds in almost per- 
 fect state of preservation fully attest. 
 
 The house of Clemens’ nativity was an unpreten- 
 tious two-room log structure, weatherboarded with 
 black walnut. Ever since his conspicuity as a writer 
 the house was an object of great interest to visitors to 
 the community in which he was born, until 189T, when 
 the structure was torn down and a more commodious 
 and modern dwelling was erected upon the site of his 
 birthplace. 
 
 Samuel Clemens’ father was engaged in the dry 
 goods business in Florida immediately after his arrival 
 in the Missouri village, but he soon decided to remove 
 to some more prosperous community. Of the life of 
 Clemens in Florida necessarily there is little to chron- 
 icle, because of his parents’ removal when he was just 
 four years old. However, there is one authenticated 
 incident connected with the removal in which Samuel 
 figured conspicuously. The little town, Florida, olfered 
 
14 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 slight assurances of sustenance for Judge Clemens and 
 his family; consequently, in November, 1839, the father 
 moved his family and household goods to Hannibal, 
 then a prosperous river town. Shortly after their de- 
 parture from Florida, some one, chancing to pass the 
 house Just vacated, heard a most vociferous wailing 
 within. Dismounting from his horse, he pushed open 
 the door, entered the honse, and discovered Samuel sit- 
 ting on the floor, his eye's swollen with weeping, and so 
 frightened that he could not explain the distressing 
 situation. With Samuel in his arms, the man spurred 
 his horse onward until he overtook the white-topped 
 wagons. When the mother, whose forgetfulness was 
 occasioned by assiduous attention to her sick baby, saw 
 Samuel in the neighbor’s arms, she made the remark, 
 laconically, to her husband: “Why, Mr. Clemens, we 
 forgot Sammy.” 
 
 Their destination reached. Judge Clemens pur- 
 chased a lot, November 13, 1839, upon which he erected 
 a house, which still stands intact, and is a great resort 
 for sight-seers who Journey to view the boyhood home 
 of Mark Twain. The house is a two-story structure, at 
 that time the flrst of its kind that the town could 
 proudly claim, and stands a few rods back from the 
 high-water mark of the river. The town of Hannibal 
 then contained only a few hundred inhabitants, the 
 chief employment of the residents being the manufact- 
 ure of tobacco, which was grown by all the farmers in 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 15 
 
 the surrounding country. The chief characteristic, 
 however, of the town was the natural beauty with 
 which the site was endowed. Here, and in the country 
 about, there were glens, cliffs, and islands, with caves 
 that would be conducive to the development of the im- 
 agination of any boy given to dreams of adventure. 
 The Mississippi was then even a wider stream than it 
 is now, for the cultivation of the land has, to some 
 extent, decreased its width. 
 
 The great “Father of Waters” at this period pre- 
 sented a busy scene; it was in the early days and before 
 the railway superseded the river as a more rapid means 
 of transportation and traffic, and the surface was dot- 
 ted here and there with steamers, flat-boats, rafts, and 
 all manner of river craft. South of Hannibal is the 
 cave which furnished material for “Tom Sawyer,” a 
 place rich in natural beauties and wonders. The scenes 
 in “Huckleberry Finn,” also, were reminiscences of 
 boyhood haunts, and Tom Sawyer’s island is yet a place 
 of interest to the curious. It was no wonder that amid 
 these surroundings the youth formed a restless, roving 
 spirit, and that most of his productions were merely 
 stories of his experiences, assisted by the unlimited 
 fund of humor and fertility of imagination that have 
 since made the name “Mark Twain” famous. 
 
 As a youth he was fond of adventure, and the 
 greater portion of his time was spent on the river, or in 
 the woods with several companions, some of whom 
 
 — 2 — 
 
16 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 later figured as cliaracters in bis stories of life on the 
 big inver and in Missouri. Many anecdotes illustrative 
 of the character of the youth are told, some of which 
 might be related with interest, since his life in Hanni- 
 bal and on the Mississippi perhaps had more than any- 
 
 ♦ 
 
 thing else to do with developing his subsequent varied 
 and interesting career, and lent him the material for 
 the greater part of his literary works. 
 
 Overlooking the river stands “Lovers’ Leap,” a mag- 
 nificent projecting bluff. One day Samuel and a com- 
 panion ascended this broad-faced cliff, and while con- 
 templating the great distance down to the base, Sam- 
 uel wagered his companion that he could jump from 
 the projecting cliff and not be injured. The other ac- 
 cepted, Samuel spat upon his hands, counted three, and 
 jumped — not down upon the rocks far below, but into 
 a tree a few feet downward and to one side of the cliff. 
 He won the bet. 
 
 At that eai'ly day the public school system was un- 
 known in Hannibal, and those who desired an educa- 
 tion were compelled to attend a “subscription school.” 
 Young Clemens was not especially studious and did not 
 court the favor of his teachers, consequently their re- 
 lations were not harmonious at all times, but there was 
 one study in which he was especially proficient — spell- 
 ing. On Friday afternoon, that part of the day was 
 devoted to “saying pieces” and to spelling matches, 
 and in these contests Samuel, because of his proficiency 
 
SAMUEL L. GLEMEES. 
 
 17 
 
 iu tlie art, was invariably chosen leader, until, for some 
 inexplicable reason, he could not spell successfully any 
 longer in the contests. The solution of the mystery, 
 however, soon became apparent, and it was ascertained 
 that he was permitting his ‘'side” to be defeated in 
 order that a fair opponent, with whom he was in love, 
 might win. By way of diversion, “singing geography” 
 was sometimes introduced. Quite frequently Samuel 
 would forget to bring his atlas to school with him and 
 for this neglect of duty the teacher would assign him a 
 seat with the girls, which was not entirely unagreeable 
 to the youngster. In their apparent absorption in the 
 work at hand their heads would reach such a close 
 proximity that Samuel would forget the song, a seat on 
 the dunce-block following next in order. 
 
 The noon and recess periods were eagerly antici 
 pated both by Samuel and the other pupils, for always 
 at these times he was wont to give exhibitions of his 
 proficiency in mimicry and gymnastic performances, in 
 both of which, it is said, he was particularly adept. 
 His one great ambition was to some day become a per- 
 former in a circus, which stimulated him to labor hard 
 to perfect himself in acrobatic feats. Mr. Clemens’ 
 splendid physique and robust health in later years is no 
 doubt due to this early physical training. 
 
 Of Mark Twain’s companions and the youths com- 
 posing “Tom Sawyer’s (Clemens’) Gang” some have be- 
 come of State and even national prominence. Sidney 
 
18 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Haines was adjutant-general of Colorado during 
 Grant’s administration, George Butler was United 
 States Consul to Egypt during the administration of 
 the same president, Frank L. Pitts became treasurer of 
 the State of Missouri, Robert N. Bodine has served with 
 distinction in Congress as the representative of the 
 second district of Missouri, while the remarkable career 
 of Samuel L. Clemens is herein related. 
 
 One day at school, during the noon period, Samuel 
 and Sidney Haines were engaged in playing a game of 
 “keeps,” which resulted in a quarrel between the two 
 participants because Samuel had accused Sidney of 
 “poking,” which was contrary to the rules of the game. 
 The latter was grievously offended at this reflection 
 upon his honor and dignity, resenting the accusation 
 with a blow upon the nose of the future humorist. 
 Then ensued an encounter that was fast and furious,- 
 until the teacher. Miss Newcomb, appeared upon the 
 scene and officiated in the role of peacemaker. When 
 school “took up,” Sidney was compelled to wear the 
 dunce-cap, while Samuel was made to stand upon a 
 chair at his side as punishment for the offense. This 
 proceeding was not entirely pleasing to Sid, and ac- 
 cordingly he tore off the dunce-cap, kicked over the 
 dunce-block, and imshed Samuel from the chair. The 
 latter procedure was not pleasing to the teacher, and so 
 the boys were locked in the wood-house, which was a 
 dark cellar-like room under the church adjoining the 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 19 
 
 scliool-liouse, through which the light seldom pene- 
 trated. When the teacher commanded the mischief- 
 makers to enter this improvised prison, Samuel without 
 liesitation walked in solemnly, but Sidney did not move 
 Avith alacrity, in fact, he rebelled against her persuad- 
 ing hand, which angered the teacher; so, exerting all 
 her strength, she endeavored to force him into the dark 
 retreat, but without avail. ^‘You big boys, come help 
 me,” she cried. “I ’ll help you,” Samuel quickly re- 
 sponded, grasping, as he thought, an opportunity to win 
 favor with his preceptress. Without waiting for her 
 assent to the proposition, he pounced on Sid, and, as- 
 sisted by George Butler, despite Sid’s kicking and vo- 
 ciferous wailing, they dragged him into the wood-house, 
 and then George stole out unnoticed by Samuel. Miss 
 Yewcomb quickly closed and barred the door; then 
 ensued such kicking and shouting that some of the 
 younger pupils began to cry and eimn the teacher 
 turned pale with fright; then, as suddenly as the clam- 
 or began, it ceased and the school relapsed into its 
 accustomed quiet. The afternoon slowly wore away, 
 yet not a sound came from the wood-house; finally Miss 
 Yewcomb became alarmed at this inexplicable quietude 
 and dismissed the school. She went to the door of the 
 wood-house, unlocked the door, and said, “Boys, you 
 may now come out,” but no response came from within. 
 Again she called, this time with a tone of mingled anxi- 
 erty and authority: “Samuel, Sidney, you come out of 
 
20 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 there now, I say.” Still there came no answer, and all 
 was quiet as before. Summoning all her courage, she 
 entered the dark and dingy place, but soon emerged 
 therefrom, her hair covered with cobwebs, her hands 
 stained with clay, and with such a frightened counte- 
 nance that two boys who were loitering near started to 
 run away. She called them, entreating them to go 
 within and ascertain whether the boys were dead or 
 asleep. With reluctance they complied with her re- 
 quest, expecting that the boys would be found smoth- 
 ered to death. They were not to be found in the wood- 
 house, so, climbing to the wood-pile, they cautiously 
 peered over the high bank of clay, from where, through 
 a crack in the wall, could be seen Sam and Sid lying flat 
 upon the ground, gazing through an aperture in the 
 wall at the people passing along the street. When they 
 were told that school had been dismissed, Sid immedi- 
 ately crawled out, but Sam declined to do so, declaring, 
 “I ’m very comfortable.” To all their pleadings his only 
 reply was, “You all get out of here; I ’m very comfort- 
 able.” Miss Newcomb then climbed upon the wood- 
 pile and begged and threatened, but to no avail, Sam 
 meanwhile unconcernedly gazing at what was trans- 
 piring in the street. It so happened that the school 
 well-chain had broken that day, precipitating the 
 bucket to the bottom of the well. Soon there came a 
 man to reclaim it, and when appealed to, he climbed to 
 the top of the wood-pile, gazed at the prostrate boy, and 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 21 
 
 with assurance said, “I ’ll fetch him.” And he did. 
 Going outside, he brought in a fishing-pole, again 
 climbed to the top of the wood-pile, thrust the pole over, 
 “took a twist” in Samuel’s trousers, and drew him up 
 as a hunter does an animal from its burrow. 
 
 The i^laygrounds of this circle of adventuresome 
 3’ouths were the hills and dales receding from the 
 cluster of houses situated along the banks of the Mis- 
 sissippi. The tan-yard, stone-quarry, and “Holliday’s 
 Hill,” which was then covered with a dense growth of 
 timber, were the principal seats of their boyish ex- 
 ploits. “Soap Hollow,” though a place of interest, was 
 cautiously avoided, because, as depicted in “Tom Saw- 
 yer,” it was said to be haunted. They only approached 
 its limits in the day-time, and then only when the temp- 
 tation to pick wild grapes and blackberries or to gather 
 persimmons in season presented extra inducements. 
 Many times did they creep stealthily and cautiously 
 along the brink to gaze into its mysterious depths, yet 
 afraid to invade its uncanny precincts. Though a con- 
 siderable portion of their leisure time was spent in 
 these haunts, the greater portion was spent on the 
 river. Frequently the members of this band would 
 run away from school, pilfer a skiff, and, with a sugar- 
 hogshead stave for an oar, sail up and down the river 
 and into its tributaries, creeks, close by. In all these 
 excursions Samuel was the undisputed leader. Sitting 
 in the stern of the boat, he issued all orders, acting in 
 
22 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MI8S0URIAES. - 
 
 the capacity of both captain and pilot, thus early evinc 
 ing a desire and capability for leadership. The many 
 exciting escapades recounted in “Tom Sawyer” and 
 “Huckleberry Finn” are but reminiscences of these 
 days, reproduced with slight imaginative variation. 
 
 The thrilling experiences of Tom Sawyer, Becky, 
 and Injun Joe in the cave, so graphically depicted in 
 “Tom Sawyer,” are founded on fact, as the following 
 authenticated incident will substantiate. At the time 
 in which this incident occurred the cave had only been 
 open to visitors a few weeks, it having been closed by 
 order of its owner, an eccentric physician of St. Louis, 
 once connected with the earliest established medical 
 college in that city. For some unexplained reason, he 
 had the entrance to the cave closed, blocking the mouth 
 with a stone wall, which contained a massive door se- 
 curely fastened by a ponderous lock. Naturally this 
 uuique proceeding excited the curiosity of the inhabit- 
 ants of the village, who desired to know what was con- 
 tained in these underground chambers. Each subse- 
 quent day intensified the curiosity of the people, and so 
 one day a crowd repaired to the cave, tore down the 
 massive door, explored the winding galleries, and found 
 stranger sights than they had anticipated. The people 
 came from far and near to see the strange and uncanny 
 object found in the “coffin-shaped chamber,” and many 
 were the stories told to the boys about the cave and the 
 little girl with long black hair, who swung from chains 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 23 
 
 iu a metal coffin, and the cavern’s silent and only in- 
 habitant. This was in the spring of 1850, when many 
 white-topped wagons en route to the gold fields were to 
 be seen passing through Hannibal, Avhich so enthused 
 the youths with “gold fever” that Samuel Clemens had 
 already planned an expedition to California in wiiich 
 his companions should accompany him. However, 
 when the excitement occasioned by the mystery of the 
 cave had reached its zenith, they deemed it best to 
 delay this venture until the cave had been explored. 
 
 One day Samuel called a meeting of the band. 
 “Boys,” said he, when they had assembled, “we must 
 visit that cave right away. I heard them talking about 
 it last night. Why, they say that there’s great long 
 rocks that hang down and shine like diamonds. And 
 there ’s a spring of shining water that turns ever’ thing 
 to stone that you throw iu it. And there ’s a coffin hung 
 from the ceilin’ that ’s got the purtiest girl ever seen in 
 it. It just sways backwards and forth and her hair 
 grows longer every day, and she looks like she did when 
 she died. Now, I ’m all ready to go to-morrow morning 
 if you all are.” 
 
 All the members of the band assented to this propo 
 sition, announcing that they were ready to go as soon 
 as candles and other requisites could be obtained. 
 When the articles were secured under one pretext or 
 another, the band met at the place of rendezvous, the 
 foot of “Lover’s Leap.” The party was composed of 
 
24 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MIS80VRIAES. 
 
 Bamuel Clemens, John Briggs, Barney Farthing, John 
 Meredith, Gulliver Brady, Prank and Tom Pitts, and 
 Robert Bodine. On their way to the cave the party 
 met Tom Blankenship, who was fishing from the hurri- 
 cane-deck of a steaml)oat, and he was quickly induced 
 to join the party. 
 
 The cave reached, the party sat down to rest from 
 the exertion of their long, hurried walk. As they gazed 
 into the dark mouth of the cavern many would have 
 gladly abandoned the expedition, had not pride and 
 fear of taunts from Samuel and John Briggs prevented; 
 then, with these two daring spirits leading, the band 
 entered the cave. For a short distance the descent 
 was made through a steep, high-arched way, then came 
 a slightly descending passage, which they traversed 
 for what seemed to them many miles. Upon entering, 
 all the youthful explorers assumed a spirit of bravado 
 and utter fearlessness, but as the band journeyed far- 
 ther and farther into the cavern even the leaders began 
 to manifest apprehension, and cast fearful glances 
 down the dark corridors. By the dim light of the tal- 
 tow candles they penetrated the darkness and reached 
 the “petrific spring,” where the young adventurers 
 satisfied their thirst and bathed their heated and 
 bruised brows, a quaking, exhausted group. 
 
 “Say, boys,” said one in subdued, anxious tones, 
 “suppose we wait until another time to visit the coffin- 
 shaped chamber.” 
 
SAMVEL L. GLEMEES. 
 
 25 
 
 All the party favored this suggestion, excepting 
 Samuel and John, who would not consider it. 
 
 “We ’re in here now,” said Sam, “and we might as 
 well go on, and we must hurry up, too, for our candles 
 are burning up fast,” and as he finished speaking he 
 started down the long passage, the remainder of the 
 party i-eluctantly yet meekly following. The passage 
 grew narrower, until finally progress was almost im- 
 possible, but at last Samuel triumphantly shouted, 
 “Here she is; here’s our coftin-shaped chamber, where 
 the little girl” — here he abruptly ceased speaking and 
 the band gathered around him, looking over his 
 shoulders with trepidation to view the weird mysteries 
 of which they had heard so much. One hurried glance 
 was sufiicient, for, as the candle cast a flickering glare 
 over the dark chamber, they saw in the gloom a coffin 
 swaying to and fro, suspended by chains from the ceil- 
 ing, or their candles held in trembling hands produced 
 the illusion. 
 
 Tremblingly one said, “Let ’s go,” and the whole 
 band beat a precipitate retreat. Tumbling over stones, 
 falling against the sides of the cave, they ran on and on 
 until they came to a spot where the passage divided 
 into two similar parallel galleries. Here they were un- 
 decided as to which one to follow, but eventually one 
 was chosen and the band proceeded on their weary jour- 
 ney to find the “petriflc spring.” 
 
26 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Samuel suddenly stopped. “Boys,” said lie, “we are 
 lost and our candles are almost burned up.” Wbeu 
 this intelligence had been given out, the more timid 
 ones set up a wail of despair, their fear being intensi- 
 fied by the weird shadows cast on the walls by the flick- 
 ering and almost consumed candles. 
 
 “Oh, we’re lost, I know we’re lost!” wailed one in 
 dire despair; then, like an echo from a hmidred 
 throats, the cry reverberated down the long corridors 
 until it died away in the distant gloom. Many times 
 had they heard their parents tell of the man who was 
 lost in this same cavern, wandering for days, until at 
 last, like Injun Joe, he died from starvation. With 
 this grewsome thought in mind, they wandered aim- 
 lessly until tired Nature asserted itself^ and the entii-e 
 party, exhausted, fell asleep, sobbing. , 
 
 While thej' slej)t the candles were consumed and 
 when one awoke, absolute darkness, denser, blacker, 
 more terrifying than his boyish nature had ever experi- 
 enced, prevailed. A vociferous cry from his lips awoke 
 the others, who, with wails equally as voluminous, 
 filled the cave with their lamentations. Even the bully 
 of the school joined in the universal moaning, declaring 
 that if he ever went fortli alive, his future would be 
 spent in rejjentance for past deeds. One, remembering 
 the training of early childhood, prayed with earnest- 
 ness as he never prayed before, combining childhood’s 
 two favorite forms of supplication, “Our Father which 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 27 
 
 ai-t in heaven,” “Now I lay me down to sleep,” the oth- 
 ers, with bowed heads, joining in silent supplication. 
 
 Scarcely was this brief but earnest prayer finished 
 when there came the welcome sound of voices, and the 
 light of a dozen torches appeared, carried by a search- 
 ing party. Weak from wandering and lack of food, they 
 were carried into the glad light outside, where they 
 were told that they had been in the cave thirty hours. 
 
 The exj)lanation of the mystery of the little dead girl 
 was soofl made known to the people. In his profes- 
 sional capacity. Dr. McDowell, the founder of the Mis- 
 souri Medical College, who owned the cave, had ob- 
 tained a corpse from the institution with which he was 
 connected, and had put it in the cavern to test the pet- 
 rifactive qualities of the water, which so many had 
 claimed for it. 
 
 In “Tom Sawyer,” Mark Twain has used this inci- 
 dent as capital for the wanderings of Tom and Becky 
 in the winding galleries of the cavern. For many years 
 t hose who had visited the cave asserted that the author 
 had made an error when Tom and Becky were made to 
 wander in an nndisco's'ered portion of the cave where 
 stalactites and stalagmites abounded, for, they asserted, 
 it was a geological impossibility for crystals to form in 
 that variety of stone. But the theories of sages of that 
 science were, disproved when, in 1892, another branch 
 of this caveni was discovered, the walls of which spar- 
 kled with resplendence. 
 
28 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 For many years the cave has been a popular public 
 resort. It was recently purchased by an Eastern syndi- 
 cate, which has lighted it with electricity and otherwise 
 changed it from its former aspect. 
 
 In personal appearance in boyhood, Mr. Clemens is 
 described as having been a shaggy-headed, freckled- 
 faced youth with but one attractive feature — the bright 
 eyes that twinkled from beneath the heavy eyebrows. 
 To add to this unattractive appearance, his early play- 
 mates tell of a drawling form of speech, which has been 
 characteristic of him in later years. Because of his 
 eccentric disposition, many writers have said that Mr. 
 Clemens affected this peculiarity, but the following- 
 statement once made by his mother disproves the as- 
 sertion : “I — don’t — know — what — makes — Samuel — 
 
 talk — that — way. Neither — his — father — nor — his — 
 
 mother — talk — so — si o w — or — draw 1 in gl y . ” 
 
 His hair was luxuriant, bristling in its nature and 
 reddish brown in color, the exact color and texture of 
 which was the subject of much discussion among the 
 girls of Sam’s acquaintance. One of his early play- 
 mates, Barney Farthing, thus speaks in reference to Mr. 
 Clemens’ hirsute adornment: “It looked more like the 
 mane of a lion in texture and tangled luxuriance than 
 anything else; but more distinctly than anything else I 
 remember on that subject was that it was some remark 
 I chanced to make about its appearance which occa- 
 sioned our acquaintance and necessitated my going 
 home with a bloody nose.” 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 29 
 
 Saul Clemens’ predilection for mischief aud fan 
 early manifested itself. Among other similar stories 
 one is told, an amusing episode that occurred at a 
 candy-pull given by his sister Parmelia, who at that 
 time was a music teacher in Hannibal. One night after 
 the music lesson was over, the teacher and pupils par- 
 ticipated in an old-fashioned candy-pull. Samuel had 
 been early sent to bed as a punishment for some offense, 
 and was not permitted to enjoy the festivities of the eve- 
 ning. After the candy was made, the pans containing 
 the confectionery were set out to cool on the back porch 
 adjoining Samuel’s room. Immediately thereafter he 
 was awakened by a cat-fight on the outside, and the 
 temptation to witness this rare treat was irresistible. 
 So, climbing out on the Avindow-sill in order to better 
 witness this encounter, he lost his balance, falling down 
 upon the pans and creating such a rattling noise that 
 the guests rushed out to ascertain the cause of the com- 
 motion. They were some time in separating young 
 Clemens from the sweet mixture. 
 
 As hitherto stated, Mr. Clemens in youth was an 
 inimitable mimic. His reputation in later years as an 
 excellent story-teller is due doubtless to a faculty devel- 
 oped from this impersonation practiced in boyhood. 
 Old *citizens of Hannibal tell how one day he enter- 
 tained a crowd of boys with a vivid description of a 
 fight that occurred near his father’s office. Jim Mc- 
 Donald, known as “Fighting Mac,” the village terror. 
 
80 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 became ott'ended at Frank Snyder, a prominent citizen, 
 who had acted as foreman of a jury in Judge Clemens’ 
 court, and had been instrumental in rendering a decis- 
 ion unfavorable to McDonald. The latter secreted him- 
 self near the court-room door, and when Snyder ap- 
 peared, he viciously attacked him. 
 
 ‘‘Why,” said Samuel in realistically describing the 
 incident, “he looked like the old boy himself, when he 
 rushed at Snyder, grinding his teeth and cussin’ as he 
 ran.’’ Then the young narrator instantly assumed an 
 expression of fear, impersonating Snyder on the retreat, 
 meanwhile blazing away at his assailant with a “pepper 
 box,” a revolver much in use at that time. “Now dad 
 grabbed a stone-cutter’s mallet, like this,” he contin- 
 ued, “and using both hands, he hit old Mac a terrible 
 blow right in the middle of the forehead and he dropped 
 like a beef.” - 
 
 Many other stories are told of how he entertained 
 crowds with descriptions of other exciting episodes of 
 pioneer days, but this incident will suffice tO' illustrate 
 this youthful characteristic and explain what underlies 
 his later proficiency in the art of story-telling. 
 
 He was popular with but few of his teachers, which 
 unpoi)ularity was occasioned by his early predilection 
 to get into trouble and hhs mischievous disposition. 
 One teacher, an old maid of uncertain years and cross 
 propensities, was often wont to thrash him. Therefore, 
 it was with satisfaction that a year later Samuel heard 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 31 
 
 that she had married a citizen of a nearby village, and 
 a man whom her friends styled her inferior. 
 
 “Humph!” ejaculated Samuel, when this intelligence 
 had been imparted to him, “I don’t see how she lowered 
 herself a bit in marr-yin’ that triflin’ fellow. She ’s 
 nothin’ but a spiteful old cat anyway, and is lucky to 
 get anybody.” 
 
 In later years Mr. Clemens has been characterized 
 by his indifference to the observance of prevailing fash- 
 ions in clothes, but in youth, it is said, he was very par- 
 ticular about his ]>ersonal appearance. In those days 
 no pioneer gentleman’s wardrobe was considered com- 
 plete unless it contained a pair of Sunday boots with 
 bright red morocco tops and “turn-up” toes. Among 
 Samuel’s many accpiaintances w'as one youth who pos 
 sessed the distinguished name of Napoleon Bonaparte 
 Boley, but who soon became nicknamed “Poley” by his 
 playmates. Poley’s father w^as the proprietor of a tav- 
 ern in Hannibal, famed in all the region about in 
 pioneer days. In an unoccupied room in This iuu w^ere 
 held many juvenile circuses, participated in by Samuel 
 and other boys of the Tillage. 
 
 One day Tvhen tired of this sport, Samuel and Poley 
 were rummaging for a particular article in this old 
 room, which was used as a storeroom, when the former 
 espied the new boots of the proprietoi-. 
 
 “Poley,” he exclaimed with animation, “here’s your 
 
 pa’s new boots vou told me about; ain’t they beauties?” 
 — 3 — 
 
32 
 
 FIVE P AMOVE MIEEOURIANE. 
 
 Then Sam surveyed the foot-gear from all sides and 
 questioned, “How much did they cost, Poley?” 
 
 “Ten dollars,” the other replied proudly. 
 
 “Well,” said Sam, “I ’m going to have a pair soon ’s 
 I can raise the money. And say,” he continued, “I ’ll 
 bet you a picayune I can put them boots on over my 
 shoes.” 
 
 “I ’ll go you on that,” replied Poley, and Sam set 
 about the task. After much blowing, perspiring, and 
 tugging, he succeeded in drawing on the boots, while 
 Poley’s face took on a most disconsolate expression at 
 the result. Sam proudly surveyed the boots and prome- 
 naded about the room. 
 
 “I guess I ’d better take ’em off,” he said at last, 
 “for your dad might come in on us.” But alas! when 
 he attempted to do so, the boots came not. “Poley,” he 
 said despairingly, “if you ’ll help me to get ’em off, you 
 can keep the picayune and we ’ll call it square.” To- 
 gether they tugged and twisted, exerting all their boy- 
 ish strength, but to no avail. Sam finally sank back 
 in the corner exhausted. 
 
 “Poley, have you a knife?” finally he gasped. “Then 
 take it and split them up the front.” 
 
 This accomplished, the two mischief-makers sepa- 
 rated, vowing the identity of the perpetrators should 
 be known to none save themselves, and they kept their 
 secret. The tavern-keeper made a systematic search 
 for the offender, but the mystery was never revealed. 
 
8AMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 33 
 
 About this time Samuel made his first attempt at 
 orig'iual composition in the form of a “poem,” commem- 
 morating the “pieing” of a galley of type, which was 
 published in the Hannibal Messenger, a newspaper now 
 defunct. The verses told of the disconcertion that 
 reigned in the printing office on press-day when this 
 dire catastrophe occurred. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 HIS KIVP]K LIP^E AND WESTERN LIFE, AND 
 THEIR RELATION TO HIS LITERARY 
 SUCCESS. 
 
 All who have read “Tom Sawjei ” and “Huckleberry 
 P^'inn,” those two absorbingly-interesting creations deal- 
 ing with pioneer life along the Mississippi River and in 
 Missouri, a half-century ago, can, from an account of 
 his boyhood, discern that these books were Init remi- 
 niscences of those days, reproduced Avilh imaginative 
 variation; in fact, from an account of his later life in 
 connection with his boyhood one can also discern that 
 there is no period or particular experience of his life 
 that he has not utilized as capital for some of his 
 literary works. 
 
 Two American humorists were steamboatmen in 
 early life — Samuel Tj. Clemens and Henry Wheeler 
 Shaw (“Josh Billings”). The desire of Clemens to be- 
 come a steamboatman on the Mississippi River, the at- 
 tainment of which resulted in capital for many stories 
 of the great river, Avas unquestionably the result of fond 
 associations formed in boyhood while a resident on the 
 bank of the stream, for among all boys dAvelling in Mis- 
 sissippi River tOAvns, in the palmy days of steamboat- 
 ing, there was one great ambition — to some day become 
 
SAMVEL L. GLEiMENS. 
 
 35 
 
 a steauiboatman on the great river. True, other ambi- 
 lions sought realization, such as predilections for min- 
 slrelsy, circuses, mining in the West, cattle-herding, 
 etc., but these projects were only secondary and short- 
 lieved; but that insatiable ambition to become a steam 
 boatman — above all, a pilot — was permanent. 
 
 Final!}' Sam Clemens could no longer resist the 
 impnlse so prevalent among the boys of that period, ^so, 
 at the age of sixteen, he left his boyhood home in the 
 old-time way — -‘‘ran off,” with the resolve that he would 
 never return until he had mastered the intricacies of 
 piloling. 
 
 This was in 1853. For some time he was unable to 
 secui'e a berth in any capacity on a steamboat, and 
 finally went back to his old occupation of printer, work- 
 ing in all the large Eastern cities. Financial depres- 
 sion soon occasioned his abandoning this life and he 
 returiu'd to the West, subsequently living in St. Louis, 
 Muscatine, and Keokuk. Again the fascination the 
 river held for him was revived, and he left home once 
 more. 
 
 He reached St. Louis, went to the long wharf, ap- 
 proac'hed the mates of the steamers, and meekly in- 
 (piired for the pilots, but received the accustomed 
 curt and unsatisfactory replies. Nothing disconcerted, 
 Samuel drifted to Cincinnati, still cherishing his pilot 
 jiroject, where for a short while he pursued his tran- 
 si<‘iit vocation as a comitositor in a newspaj^er office. 
 
36 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 About this time the Government had sent out an expe- 
 dition for the purpose of exploring the River Amazon. 
 With the remnant of his pecuniary possessions — 130.00 
 — he determined to journey by river to New Orleans, 
 where he could get a ship for Pana. Accordingly he 
 took passage on an Ohio River steamer, the “Paul 
 Jones,” and courted the favor of its officers in order to 
 familiarize himself with river technicalities, but with 
 characteristic coolness these distinguished personages 
 resented his overtures. 
 
 Upon reaching New Orleans, he ascertained thaf 
 tliere wms no ship to be secured to Pana, and moreover 
 there would be none likely to arrive soon. There was 
 but one alternative — he must return on an up-bound 
 steamboat, and as the “Paul Jones” was about to leave 
 for St. Louis, he again took passage on that unpreten- 
 tious craft, and, after vigorous importuning, the pilot 
 for a sum of money consented to “learn” Samuel the 
 river from the Gulf to St. Louis. 
 
 Soon the pilot under whom Samuel was serving as 
 a “cub” was transfered to a big New Orleans packet, 
 the “Aleck Scott.” 
 
 This was in 1857. Two and one-half years later he 
 had completed his apprenticeship, after the usual adven- 
 tures common to that vocation, and was a full-fledged 
 ]iilot. About this time, his younger brother, Henry 
 ('lemons, became an under-clerk on the same steamer. 
 One day the captain of the boat instructed Henry to 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 37 
 
 tell the pilot to land at a certain plantation. This he 
 did, but the pilot, who in those days acknowledged offi- 
 cial inferiority to no one, pretended not to hear the 
 order. When they had passed the intended landing- 
 place, the captain sought out the pilot and ventured the 
 interrog'ation to the pilot, “Did not Henry tell you to 
 land there?” indicating vdth his finger the place. 
 
 “No,” replied the august pilot vehemently. 
 
 Then the captain questioned Sam concerning the 
 affair, to which he replied that Henry had done as he 
 was instructed. This so angered the pilot that when 
 Henry appeared in the pilot-house, the pilot ordered 
 him out, emi^hasizing the command by raising his hand 
 to hurl aten-i)ound lump of coal at the clerk, but before 
 he could commit the cowardly deed^Samuel hit him a 
 terrific blow with a stool, which knocked the pilot pros- 
 trate upon the floor. Sam fully expected that he would 
 be severely punished for this unpardonable crime — 
 striking a pilot on duty, but, to his surprise, the captain 
 commended him and discharged the pilot. 
 
 About the close of Sam’s apprenticeship a sad acci- 
 dent occurred on the river which occasioned the death 
 of his brother Henry. They had reached New Orleans 
 on one of their trips on the packet on which both served 
 together. The former had to remain in New Orleans 
 by reason of a delay, while his brother went on up the 
 river on the steamer “Pennsylvania.” Strange as it 
 may seem, the two brothers, on the night before 
 
38 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MT8S0URIANS. 
 
 Henry’s departure, in their conversation drifted to the 
 subject of steamboat disasters— a subject which had 
 probably hitherto been undiscussed by them. Two 
 days after this night, Sam took passage on the “A. T. 
 Lacey” for St. Louis, where he was to resume his steer- 
 man’s berth. 
 
 The second night out from New Orleans, news came 
 to the “A. T. Lacey” that the “Pennsylvania” had 
 blown up near Ship Islaiid, a few miles below Memphis, 
 and many lives were lost in the catastrophe. Later 
 authentic information verified the rei)ort. The explo- 
 sion on the “Pennsylvania” occurred on a warm sum- 
 mer morning in the early fifties, while Henry and many 
 of the passengers were asleep. Among those thrown 
 high in the air v as Henry, who, despite that he was in- 
 jured, swam to the shore, whence he could see that the 
 boat was on lire. With the customary devotion of true 
 river men to their craft and disposition never to yield, 
 even in the darkest houi’, he swam back to the burning 
 ’\'essel to save those on board. In his heroic attempts 
 lo save his fellow-men, he forgot his own injuries and 
 labored so bravely and assiduously that six days later 
 he died from injuries sustained in his efforts. 
 
 For several years Clemens pursued his vocation as 
 pilot, and perhaps he would yet be engaged in this ca- 
 pacity, or in some other way closely connected with 
 steamboatiug, had not the Civil War come on, which 
 changed the fortunes of so many of that iieriod, and 
 
SAMVEL L. GLEMENS. 
 
 39 
 
 commerce was suspended. When it closed, the rail- 
 road and tow-hoat had almost supplanted the steamer 
 and the thriving industry of the river relapsed into 
 history, which its most picturesque participant has jire- 
 served for future generations, in so doing having- 
 earned the title, “the prose poet of the Mississippi.” 
 
 From the abrupt terminus of his career as a pilot 
 one may discern the extent that circumstance has to 
 do witli a man’s career, for had not Clemens been 
 thrown out of employment, the “Mark Twain” of future 
 years would never have been known or developed, or 
 perhaps, witli that executive ca])ability of his, he might 
 have become a battle-scarred hero, had he remained on 
 the river with that remnant of pilots who participated 
 in the exciting, momentous events that occui-re<l l)e- 
 tween Vicksburg and Port Hudson ; but Fate was kind, 
 and decreed otherwise. 
 
 He joined his fortunes with tlie Confederacy and 
 for several months participated in several impromptu 
 skirmishes in Missouri. The ti-ansiency of his soldier 
 life is best summed up in the humorist’s own words: 
 “We never Avon any victories to sj)eak of. We never 
 could get the enemy to stay still Avhen we Avanted to 
 tight; and Avhen the enemy felt like lighting, Ave Avere 
 generally on the move.” 
 
 Soldier-life was not fascinating to. Clemens and he 
 turned his face westAvard, and thus it came about that 
 it was Mark Twain’s good fortune to have lived in the 
 
■10 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURI AES. 
 
 West during its picturesque days — that is, during the 
 movement of the emigrant train; at the time of the 
 pioneer, trapper, and scout, vi^ho paved the way, often- 
 times at the sacrifice of their own lives, for the masses 
 who later developed the vast resources of the Great 
 American Desert. 
 
 It was in 1861 that Samuel L. Clemens went West, 
 llis brother, Orion S. Clemens, had been appointed sec- 
 i-etary of the Territory (now State) of Nevada, and 
 Samuel accompanied him as his private secretary. The 
 inception of their journey across the plains was at St. 
 Joseph, Missouri, where this company of “Mizzoury fel- 
 lers,” as their fellow-emigrants styled them, met and 
 foi nied their emigrant ti*ain. Aside from what is re- 
 corded in “Roughing It,” no particular incident char- 
 acterized Iheir monotonous journey across the then 
 desert empire. 
 
 Their destination reached, the organization of the 
 Teriltory was soon consummated, with James W. 
 Nye as governor, Orion S. Clemens as secretary, while 
 Samuel L. Clemens, as hitherto stated, acted in the 
 capacity of secretary to his brother. This was about 
 the time that fabulous mining discoveries were made 
 in the great Washoe country, and, in common with 
 many others, Clemens caught the mining fever and 
 joined the turbulent throng that were eagerly seeking 
 the precious minerals. After encountering the many 
 vicissitudes that accompanied the life of a pioneer 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 41 
 
 miner, and fruitlessly searching one year, he gave up 
 the pursuit. 
 
 Next we hear of Clemens as a newspaper man at 
 "\"irginia City, where his career in the world of letters 
 began. Here it was that the people of that region had 
 for the first time an opportunity of reading genuine 
 American humor, in all of its daring, extravagance, and 
 cap)riciousuess. In its dash and breezy \spirit it 
 breathed the essence of the atmosphere of that peifiod 
 of turmoil and activity. For three years, commencing 
 in 1'862, he was editor of the Virginia City Enterprise, 
 spending a part of the time as legislature correspond- 
 ent from Carson City. He signed his contributions 
 “Mark Twain,” getting the pseudonym from an old 
 river character. Captain Isaiah Sellers, the pioneer of 
 all Mississippi river pilots, who reported river news for 
 the New Orleans Picayune. Captain Sellers died a 
 short while before Clemens began writing, so the latter 
 appropriated the noin de guerre. 
 
 His correspondence from Carson 'achieved great 
 local fame, and was of the greatest interest to all in 
 that region, excepting those who were the targets of 
 his unerring pen. Nothing like it had ever appeared 
 . in Western newspaperdom — it was so original, so 
 humorous, so freakish and fanciful, interspersed here 
 and there with the choicest bits of irony and satire. 
 
 By and by the life in Nevmda, with its accompani- 
 ments of border brawls and treasure-seeker’s fanati- 
 
42 
 
 FITE FAMOVS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 cism, became distasteful to tbe bumorist, aud bis no- 
 madic nature agaiu asserted jtself. So, in 1865, be 
 crossed tbe mountains to seek employment on tbe 
 Coast, eventually drifting to San Francisco, where In* 
 became a repoider on tbe Morninfi Call. 
 
 Of Mr. Clemens’ reportorial experiences in San 
 Francisco several autbenticated and amusing incidents 
 ai-e told by bis former newspaper associates, wbicb 
 serve to illustrate that tbe work of a reporter was not 
 entirely to liis satisfaction. 
 
 “AVlien Mark Twain came to San Francisco in tbe 
 middle sixties,” said a San Francisco newspaper man, 
 “be found employment on tbe Morninfi Call, in tbe ca- 
 ]»acily of importer. In tbose days tbe pu])er liad but 
 one reitorter. It was tbougbt by tbe management that 
 as Mark was a droll writer, be would be a first-class 
 man, and would put considerable life into tbe local de- 
 partment of tbe paper. It did not take tbe manage- 
 ment long, however, to discover that IMark Avas, with- 
 out exception, tbe laziest man Avbo bad ever presented 
 himself as a reporter for a neAvs[)a])er. Still, Mark 
 could Avi-ite up a good item, Avbeii be felt in tbe mood, 
 and tbe matter bad been placed Avithin bis easy reach. 
 
 “One night there was an alarm of lire from tbe third 
 disti'ict, in Avhicb tbe Gall office, then on Commercial 
 Street near Montgomery Street, A\’as located. In tbose 
 da.ys there was no systematic bos^ system as there is 
 noAV. iUark Avas in tbe office, struggling AAitb an ac- 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENE. 
 
 43 
 
 count of a runaway team, when he was interrupted by 
 ( reorge E. Barnes, one of the proprietors, who acted as 
 managing editor, and 'who, liaTing looked out of the 
 fi“ou1 window, had noticed a big l)laze. ‘Mr. Clemens,' 
 said Bai-nes, ‘you had bettei- go out and see what that 
 lire is, for it appears to be a pretty big blaze. It ’s only 
 a conjile of l)locks from here.’ Mark looked up, and in 
 that ])articnlar drawl which characterized him, he 
 asked, ‘Say, Barnes, am I supposed to look after these 
 tires?’ Barnes was somewhat annoyed by the question, 
 and replied rather sharply, ‘Why, of coarse, yon are.' 
 ‘All right, Barnes,’ drawled Mark; ‘I suppose I ’ll have 
 1o go, but say, Barnes, does the office furnish a hack to 
 go to these tii-es?’ Mark went to the lire, bnt not in a 
 hack.-’ 
 
 One day Clemens was met by a reporter for an even- 
 ing paper, Avho comi)la.ined that there was not an item 
 lo be secured. For consolation, Mark said to him; “You 
 should never let such a little thing as that trouble you. 
 Let me give you a little advice. tVlien you are hard up 
 for items, all you have to do is to draw on yonr imag- 
 inalion for facts and on old anthors for originality." 
 He followed Mark’s advice and Avas soon invited to 
 sever his connection with his papei". 
 
 More than any dnty on his detail, Mark disliked the 
 necessity of A'isiting the morgue. AA'hile he was not 
 superstitions., he did not like to view the cadavers, 
 neither Avas he on filendly terms with the attendants. 
 
14 
 
 FIVK FAMOUS M ISSOVKl A'NS. 
 
 On the occasion of his first visit to the morgue he 
 startled the attendants by asking, “Say, is this the place 
 where stiffs are laid out?” Eeceiving an answer in the 
 affirmative with the admonition that he onglit to speak 
 more respectfully of the dead, he then made known 
 his business, which was that of ascertaining if there 
 Avere anything new, in these words: “Say, what I want 
 to know is, if you corpse-carpenters have picked up any- 
 thing to-day. If you have, just write it out and I’ll 
 take it around to the Call office.” 
 
 At the time Clemens was in Virginia City, the Ter- 
 ritorial Enferprise, or, at least, someone through that 
 paper, was excoriating the police department of San 
 Francisco. So when Mark came to San Francisco, the 
 police had the impression that perhaps he had formed 
 his oijinion of the department from reading the accounts 
 in the Enterprise, and to convince him that they were 
 groundless and malicious, the officers extended every 
 courtesy to him. This was very jileasing to Mark,“es- 
 Iiecially the cigai s that they gave him when around the 
 police office, as well as the light refreshments proffered 
 him. One of the most officious was named Hess, who 
 was doorkeeper at the Police Court, and to gain Mark’s 
 good opinion he made a mental memorandum of what 
 had occurred in court, thus keeping the reporter in 
 stock with stories. But one day their friendship was 
 abruptly brought to a close. It came about in this way: 
 Hess was affected with a bad breath, which became 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 45 
 
 extremely unpleasant to the reporter. When Hess had 
 one day told Clemens the news of the court, Mark said, 
 “Hess, I want to ask you a question.” “Go ahead,” said 
 Hess, “for I shall only be pleased to answer it if I. pos- 
 sibly can.” “Well, Hess, what in the devil has crawled 
 into you and died there?” He never spoke to Mark 
 again, and thereafter told all the news to a reporter for 
 a rival paper. 
 
 As a reporter he was not successful, and soon ser'- 
 ered his connection with the Call, after a fair trial of 
 five months. 
 
 Again Mr. Clemens became a victim of the “gold 
 fever,” and once more tried gold-mining, this time in 
 the placers of Calaveras County. Again he was unsuc- 
 cessful, as in his former experiences. Thus ended his 
 mining career, for the latter unsuccessful experience 
 disheartened him and he never resumed the search for 
 gold. 
 
 He returned to San Francisco and engaged in liter- 
 ary work, writing for the weekly papers, forming the 
 acquaintance of many Western writers of that period, 
 notably among them Bret Harte, the poet of the mining 
 camps and Western mountains. He became associated 
 with that group of young writers who illustrated the 
 early history of California, comprising men who later 
 attained more or less distinction. 
 
 His occasional contributions gave him some local 
 reputation as a humorist, but were not as popular as 
 
46 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 writings during the period, that he belonged to the 
 group of “sage-brush writers.” 
 
 Clemens’ desire for new scenes for his versatile pen 
 would not permit him to remain long in one locality, 
 so in 1866 he went to the Hawaiian Islands, spending 
 six mouths of that year there. This experience fur- 
 nished him with material for numerous sketches and 
 humorous lectures, which he delivered in California 
 and Nevada. 
 
 His first lecture was delivered in Mercantile Library 
 Hall, San Francisco. Lectures were practically inno- 
 vations to Western folk, and Mark, anticipating that 
 his audience would not take kindly to his first efforts, 
 aliixed some characteristic Clemensisms to his lecture 
 announcements. At the top: “Owing to the fact that 
 this will be my last lecture in this city, I have decided 
 to reduce the price of admission from One Dollar to 
 Eight Bits.” (As almost everyone knows, “a bit” was 
 the term in those days for one-eighth of a dollar.) At 
 the bottom this unique statement appeared: “Trouble 
 
 wi 11 begin at eight o’clock p. m.” Mr. Clemens himself, 
 in one of his books, relates the account of this, his first 
 appearance on the lecture platform. He was abashed 
 lest the effort should prove a failure and his audience 
 Avould not appreciate the humorous features of his 
 lecture. So he went to several of his most intimate 
 acquaintances and proposed to them that they assist 
 him in the evening’s entertainment, to which they 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 47 
 
 readily assented. Clemens was very discriminating in 
 the selection of his abettors, choosing only those who 
 possessed that mysterious faculty of producing a “con- 
 tagious laugh.” They were instructed to station them- 
 selves in various parts of the room — in the galleries, 
 balcony, parquet, and boxes; Clemens was to smile as a 
 signal, and his abettors were to give vent to hearty 
 laughter. The lecture was eminently successful and 
 the claque encouraged the debutant by rousing the en- 
 thusiasm of the audience. Oftentimes these demonstra- 
 tions of his accomplices were ill-timed, but that did not 
 render them ineffective, for the remainder of the audi- 
 ence concluded they were incapable of appreciating the 
 speaker’s subtle humor, and, in order not to display 
 their lack of proper discernment, they, too, joined in the 
 hearty demonstrations. Finally near the close of the 
 lecture, he reached, as he says, “the climax,” the coup- 
 d’etat of the evening, a finely drawn peroration, when 
 he paused in the midst of his word-painting; the audi- 
 ence breathless in their attention to the speaker. The 
 ludicrous appearance of some friend in the audience 
 forcibly struck Clemens and he inadvertently smiled. 
 The aide.s-de-camp thought this was another signal and 
 burst into roars of vigorous laughter, the remainder of 
 the audience joining until the room rang with uproar- 
 ious merriment. 
 
 Mr. Clemens saj-s he was disconcerted because this, 
 his first audience, did not take him seriously. 
 
 ^ 4 — 
 
4S 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 At the completion of this lecture tour he returned 
 to the East and published '‘The Jumping Frog, and 
 Other Sketches,” in 1867. Upon the appearance of this 
 celebrated tale, “The Jumping Frog of Calaveras,” 
 many claimed the authorship of it and accused Clemens 
 of plagiarism, but in the end he was vindicated. The 
 legend itself originated long before the art of printing 
 was invented, a learned antiquarian even claiming to 
 have found in the literature of the ancient Greeks the 
 fundamental part of the story. Mr. Clemens had heard 
 the tale rehearsed around mining camps, for it was 
 then a camp-fire classic, being told from mouth to 
 mouth like the sagas of the Norselaud. 
 
 Of this and other early pi’oductions we now hear 
 but little, since they are overshadowed by the brilliancy 
 of his later works. 
 
 About this time, early in 1867, the famous “Quaker 
 City” excursion was projected, and Mr. Clemens deter- 
 mined, if possible, to go on this trip, which would un- 
 doubtedly furnish him with material for another pub- 
 lication. He proposed to The Alta California, a daily 
 newspaper, that they advance him a sum needed to pay 
 the expenses of this journey, he -in return to write let- 
 ters to that publication, gi\-ing an account of the trip. 
 The management was rather uncertain as to the ad- 
 visability of accepting this proposition, as it was some- 
 what of an innovation in newspaper ventures, but 
 finally he was sent away on his voyage of pleasure and 
 profit, too, as it afterwards proved. 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 49 
 
 In company with many others who joined this cele- 
 brated excursion, he sailed on the steamer, “Quaker 
 City,” which left New York June 8, 1867. Their itin- 
 erary comprised a stop at the Azore Islands, Gibraltar, 
 and Morocco; through the Mediterranean to Mar- 
 seilles, thence to Paris and other French cities. From 
 Paris the route of the journey was to Genoa, thence by 
 rail to rural Italy, visiting the cities en route. Athens 
 and other places of interest in Greece were seen, as well 
 as portions of Turkey and Southern Russia, returning 
 to Constantinople, whence they set sail for the Holy 
 Land and other parts of Asia. 
 
 His letters concerning this trip, which were regu- 
 larly sent to The Alta California, practically established 
 his fame permanently. Many American newspapers, 
 especially those published in California, reproduced 
 them without regard for the copyrights of the author 
 and the publisher. 
 
 Upon his return to America, he found himself a 
 celebrity, especially in fields in which circulated the 
 newspapers which published his correspondence. The 
 success of the letters induced him to put on the market 
 a book containing these letters in a revised and more 
 substantial form. When the proprietors of The Alta 
 California heard of this venture, they were exceedingly 
 angry, for they considered them their private property, 
 and, although until this time the proprietors of the 
 newspaper had not thought of issuing the letters in 
 
50 
 
 FIYB FAMOVB MISSOVRIANS. 
 
 book form, they immediately proceeded to issue a cheap 
 paper edition of the book of letters. Mark Twain was 
 in the East at this time, revising the letters preparatory 
 to their repnblication in a slightly altered form, when 
 the intelligence of The Alta California publishers’ in- 
 tentions reached him. The humorist made a hurried 
 trip to San Francisco and succeeded in convincing the 
 M’estern publishers of his rights in the matter, and 
 they abandoned the project of anticipating him in the 
 paper edition. His publication was entitled “Innocents 
 Abroad,” of which one hundred thousand copies w'ere 
 sold the first year, 180!), and as many later. The book’s 
 popularity was almost instantaneous, and soon the 
 author was in demand as a lecturer in all parts of the 
 country. 
 
 For four years, beginning with 1869, he lectured in 
 the Eastern and the Western States, and also contrib- 
 uted to The Overland Monthly, The Galaxy, and other 
 magazines. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ISTU-IDOO— THIRTY YEARS OF MINGLED SUC- 
 CESSES AND MISFORTUNES. 
 
 Ill biographies that are everywhere perused the 
 reader oi'tentiiues finds the term “successful,"’ but 
 it is doubtful if there has ever been a character, 
 forming a subject in biography or history, whose career 
 has not been one of mingled triumphs and defeats. In 
 the career of Samuel L. Clemens his life is divided into 
 several periods: first, those strnggies of early manhood, 
 which led up to his first successes; then the period in 
 which he rose into highest positions in his chosen field, 
 had wealth, fame, and infiuence in abundance; then, 
 following the exercise of the immunities of success in a 
 business way, came disasters, the results of bad invest- 
 ments, misplaced confidences, and unrewarded generos- 
 ity; succeeding thereto being a iieriod of years of strug- 
 gling against heavy odds; then an avalanche of honors, 
 a wave of fortune, a snccession of successes, until now 
 Mark Twain approaches life’s declining years bidding 
 -fair to lay down his life’s work and activity in the i*ip- 
 est season of his fame. 
 
 He has been eminently successful in literature, yet, 
 in common with many others, he, too, has tasted the 
 bitter fruits of adversity; but, after all, the story of his 
 
52 
 
 FITE F AMOVE MI8E0VRIAH8. 
 
 life is none the worse for it. He has weathered storms 
 and proven himself stable at all times, while his very 
 life itself verifies the old adage that “a smooth sea never 
 made a skillful mariner.” 
 
 Another sort of chronological division might be 
 made in reference to the life of Mark Twain: from his 
 boyhood to his marriage there may be found conspicu- 
 ously strewn along the way of observation the rough 
 material out of which he made his masterpieces; en- 
 vironment from the first part of this period to the latter 
 part may be said truthfully to be the framework of his 
 life, from these things issue the works which have made 
 him famous; of the balance of his life'it may be said, 
 that while interspersed with periods when his recep- 
 tive mind had impressed upon it figures and scenes, to 
 him sources of inspiration, on the whole, viewing the 
 high places only, these latter years have been those of 
 development, when his time has been devoted largely to 
 the utilization of the material gathered in former years, 
 to the development of his recollections, so that from 
 them he might draw pictures of such vividity and clear- 
 ness that the world would rush after him to look. 
 
 In February, 1870, Samuel L. Clemens married Miss 
 Olivia Langdon, and took up his residence in Buffalo, 
 N. Y., where he purchased a third interest in the Buf- 
 falo Express, and then became associated in the editor- 
 ship of the paper, but only for a few months in an active 
 way. His anticipations were that the circulation of the 
 
SAMVEL L. GLEMENS. 
 
 53 
 
 paper would be extended by reason of his contributions 
 to its columns, but the extension of the Express’ field 
 was jjrobably not to the extent Mr. Clemens liad looked 
 for, as he manifested his disappointment in the venture 
 by selling his intei'est to Colonel Selkirk. 
 
 Of this brief journalistic exi:>erience in this western 
 New York city, Mr. Clemens again figures as the subject 
 of several anecdotes; one will suffice, however. When 
 Clemens came to Buffalo, he was personally unknown in 
 the city, and while a resident there he formed few ac- 
 quaintances. Previous to his coming the editorial room 
 of the paper was a favorite meeting-place of local poli- 
 ticians; so, one night after Clemens became news editor 
 of the paper, and while he was out of his office, a num- 
 ber of these politicians congregated as usual at the 
 Express editorial office to hold their weekly political 
 symposium. They occupied every chair in the room, the 
 majority of them perching their feet on various articles 
 of furniture contained therein. 
 
 Presently Editor Clemens appeared at the threshold 
 of the door, paused, and, looking in, meekly inquired: 
 
 “Is this the Express office?” 
 
 “Yes, sir,” quickly responded one of the political 
 fraternity. 
 
 “Is this the editorial room of the Buffalo Express 
 he again questioned. 
 
 “Yes, certainly,” another replied with emphasi-s. 
 
54 
 
 FIYE FAMOVii MISSOURIANS. 
 
 “Well,” said Clemens deprecatingly, “gentlemen, if 
 this be true, then I think I am entitled to a seat, for I 
 thought I was one of the editors.” 
 
 A half-dozen seats were simultaneously vacated, 
 with the exclamation, “Why, that ’s Mark Twain!” 
 After he severed his connection with the Express. 
 Ml'. Clemens soon settled in Hartford, Connecticut, 
 Avliere, Avith the exception of time spent in traveling, 
 he has since continuously resided. 
 
 In 1872, in company with his family, he went on a 
 lour of England and Scotland and lectured for a few 
 Aveeks in London. While he Avas there a London pub- 
 lisher issued an unauthorized collection of his writings 
 in four volumes, in which were included papers attrib- 
 uted to him that he never wrote. The same year, there 
 Avas issued from the press of a Hartford publishing 
 house “Roughing It,” a reminiscence of his Western 
 experiences, containing sketches of Nevada, Utah, Cal- 
 ifornia, and the Sandwich Islands. 
 
 After his stay in these two countries, Avhich was 
 only of a feAV months’ duration, he returned to Amer- 
 ica, I'esuming his residence in Hartford, Avhere, in col- 
 laboration Avith Charles Dudley Warner, he wrote 
 “The Gilded Age.” The principal character in the 
 story was called Colonel Eschol Sellers, after a char- 
 acter in real life, and whom the authors thought dead, 
 but judge of their surprise when the original of the 
 character turned up, visited Hartford, and demanded 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 55 
 
 that his name be no longer used in connection with the 
 story. This explains why in subsequent editions the 
 name ‘Mulberry” was used instead of “Eschol.” 
 
 The story of how Mr. Warner and Mr. Clemens came 
 to write the novel is interesting. It came about in this 
 way: One day Clemens and AVarner were returning 
 
 from a walk in Hartford in which they had discussed 
 the merits of the modern novel. “Warner,” said 
 Clemens, “let us write a burlesque on the modern 
 novel.” Mr. AVarner was favorable to the proposition, 
 and soon they were formulating plans for the produc- 
 tion of the story. Their method of collaboration was 
 decidedly unique — one author would write a chapter 
 one day, while the other would take up the thread of 
 the narrative and write likewise on the next day. AVhen 
 the manuscript was completed, they condensed and 
 revised it and submitted it to their wives for criticism. 
 “The Gilded Age” was later dramatized and produced 
 in New York in 1874, with John T. ■Raymond in the 
 leading part. Colonel Mulberry Sellers. The produc- 
 tion of the comedy proved an extraordinary success. 
 
 In addition to the interesting method of preparing 
 this famous novel, there are many interesting consid- 
 erations connected with it. The character delineated 
 therein. Colonel AIulberi*y Sellers, became a pictur- 
 esque feature of Mark Twain’s writing, more or less 
 conspicuous for several years, in many other works. 
 The public “took” to Colonel Sellers, to make use of a 
 
56 
 
 FIYE FAM 0 US MISSO V RIANS. 
 
 somewhat slangy phrase, and longed to know more 
 about him. His eccentricities became subjects of in- 
 terest in all parts of the country where Mark* Twain 
 was known. He was placed with environments most 
 Iteculiar to the decade succeeding the Civil War, an era 
 ill America of political scandals and commercial specu- 
 lations. Colonel Sellers was given a disposition not 
 unlike the many promoters the world was then just 
 turning away from in real life; hence it seemed as 
 t hough he were part and parcel of reality. 
 
 There is a circumstance connected with Colonel Sel- 
 lers’ development which serves to illustrate the fertil- 
 ity of Mark Twain’s reminiscences of his Missouri life 
 and surroundings. During the early part of his life, 
 there lived in Marion County, Missouri, only a few miles 
 from Hannibal, an individual who perhaps partook of 
 Colonel Sellers’ characteristics more than any other 
 man of extraordinary conspicuity; from him, there is 
 every reason to believe, Mr. Clemens conceived Mul- 
 berry Sellers, and from him, there is little doubt, Clem- 
 ens and Warner portrayed the character of the specu- 
 lative Colonel. 
 
 Mr. Clemens has frequently stated that if Mul- 
 berr-y Sellers is drawn from any man in particular, that 
 man was William M. Muldrow, the erstwhile founder 
 of a would-be city — Marion City — on the banks of the 
 Mississippi. The man flourished in all his splendor 
 and dreamy magnificence about the time of Samuel L. 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 57 
 
 Clemens’ life in Hannibal. His deeds were the talk of 
 the United States, and particularly of the West, in the 
 thirties and forties. Charles Dickens visited his “city” 
 at one time, from it drawing the “Eden” of Mark Tap- 
 ley’s and Martin Chuzzlewit’s American experiences; 
 from its founder and enthusiastic promoter, the unique 
 and distorted caricature of General Scadder, through 
 whom the great English novelist “roasted” American 
 real-estate booms and boomers. Therefore, there is 
 little to wonder at in Clemens selecting Muldrow as the 
 model of Mulberry Sellers. 
 
 Muldrow has an unique place in pioneer history, one 
 shared with few, for his character in detail and in re- 
 lief shows out in greater prominence than any other 
 of that vast throng known as “promoters,” a sort of 
 genii who nourished 'in the days when pioneers from 
 the Eastern States were building up the West. 
 
 Muldrow being largely the original of Colonel Sel- 
 lers, the latter possesses more charm than ever, and, 
 typifying the first “promoter” in fact and in fiction, de- 
 serves to live as a character-sketch of historical value 
 in retrospective glances upon the distant past. 
 
 Mr. Clemens was now — along in the seventies — 
 much in demand as a lecturer everywhere in America, 
 and as an after-dinner si>eaker he was much sought 
 after. His remarks on the weather of New England, 
 at a dinner in New York, were widely published and 
 circulated, as well as a number of other short speeches, 
 
58 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MI880UEIANS. 
 
 which liave almost become classics of their kiud. AH 
 of these speeches, the one on New England weather in 
 Itarticular, illustrate his humor and his entertaining 
 descriptive powers. As a story-teller and character- 
 delineator, Mark Twain was iinsnr])assed at this time, 
 and has never been ecpialled or surpassed in more l e- 
 cent years, as age does not seem to dim his talents. In 
 the middle seventies, no celebrity, nnless it were some 
 noted statesman or great war hero, drew snch large 
 cro^\'ds and received snch ovations as did Mark Twain. 
 
 From 1874 to 1878 he was engaged in lectnring, con- 
 Iribnling to periodicals and preparing the mannscrijtt 
 of “Tom Sawyer,” which was completed in 18T(i. This 
 book is a story of pioneer life in Missouri at the time 
 1 he author was a lad. It attained almost instant po]m- 
 larity and it is to be doubted if there is to-day a more 
 ])Opnlai- book among the youth of the land than “Tom 
 Sawyer.” 
 
 In 1878 Ml'. Clemens again went to Europe, remain- 
 ing eighteen months. As a i-esult of this second triji, 
 “A Tram]) Abroad” appeared in 1879. This lioolv, like 
 “Innocents Abroad,” deals with his ex])eriences along 
 a, foreign journey, interspersed with the author's char- 
 acteristic humor. 
 
 In 1883 he concluded to visit the scenes of his early 
 life, and especially to travel up and down the Missis 
 sippi Kiver, to once more traverse its surface as he did 
 in the halcyon days of steamboating. Twenty-one 
 
SAMVilL L. CLEIMENS. 
 
 59 
 
 yeai-s aftev lie left the river, he came westward, reach- 
 ing St. Louis one April day iu 1882. It was his inten- 
 tion to travel incognito, in order that he might more 
 easily gather information and data for two books, “Life 
 on the Mississippi” and “Huckleberry Finn,” that he 
 was then contemplating writing. But, alas! scarcely 
 had the south-bound steamer gotten well under way 
 when the pilot recognized Mr. Clemens and his identity 
 was disclosed. 
 
 Upon reaching New Orleans, Mr. Clemens met the 
 man “whom,” as he says, “of all men, I most desired to 
 see.” The person in question was Horace Bixby, under 
 whom he had served his apprenticeship as a pilot. 
 Bixby was then (1882) no longer a pilot, but was the 
 captain of the steamer “City of Baton Eouge,” one of 
 the largest boats on the lower Mississippi, and is yet 
 in active service on the river. Clemens came up the 
 river with him on his return trip. 
 
 From ?>t. Louis he came north, stopping off a few 
 days at Hannibal to visit the scenes of his boyhood, 
 which he had not seen for twenty-nine years. The town 
 was much changed. Instead of the little village of the 
 early fifties, he now found it a prosperous railroad 
 center, with shops, factoiies, and immense wholesale 
 lnml)er interests, and containing a population of fifteen 
 Ihonsand persons. Few of his early associates re- 
 mained, many having removed to other States, while a 
 goodly number had passed to another land. 
 
60 
 
 FIYE F AMOVE MIE80VRIAF8. 
 
 The end of this two-thousand-mile journey was at 
 St. Paul, whence Mr. Clemens returned to his home in 
 Hartford, Connecticut. 
 
 In the course of his journey up and down the Missis- 
 sippi, he met only a few of his former river associates. 
 Many had left the river for other employment after the 
 war came on, Avhile many who had remained had been 
 killed at their post of duty, during the exciting times at 
 Vicksburg and elsewhere. 
 
 As a result of this trip, “Life on the Mississippi,” 
 dealing with the past and present-day aspect of the 
 Mississippi River, appeared in 1883. There is, peiLaps, 
 no other book in the English language dealing with the 
 same subject in the same way. It commemorates one 
 of the most interesting features in commercial annals 
 of America, the passing of the days of the great packet, 
 the coming of the twilight of rest after a long day of 
 activity, during which the great river was a most 
 potent artery in the commerce of the W est. ■ 
 
 “The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn,” practically 
 a sequel to “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,” was also 
 published after the conclusion of this trip, it appearing 
 in 1884. This is a fascinating story, dealing with the 
 picturesque phases of ante-bellum life along the Missis- 
 sippi, opening with descriptions of life in that part of 
 the river lying just north of St. Louis about one hun- 
 dred and fifty miles, a country which partook of the 
 characteristics of both the North and South, eonstitut- 
 
8AMUBL L, GL3MEN8. 
 
 61 
 
 ing, iu fact, the borderland between slave States and 
 the domain of the abolitionist; while the story, like a 
 panorama, moves down the river and displays snap- 
 shots at towns large and small on the river banks, illus- 
 trating the inner life of the people as no other book of 
 its kind has ever done. 
 
 The same year of his trip on the Mississippi he 
 wrote and published “The Prince and the Pauper,” one 
 of the most popular of his works and of exceptional 
 value because of its rich satirical qualities. 
 
 In 1885, Mr. Clemens financed the publishing house 
 of Charles L. Webster & Company, of Hartford, Con- 
 necticut. From this publishing house were issued 
 many of his works in after years, “Huckleberry Finn” 
 being the first. In 1885 and the following year, the 
 notable “Personal Memoirs of U. S. Grant” were issued 
 by that firm. General Grant before his death had 
 entered into a contract with the firm that his heirs 
 were to receive a certain portion of the profits accruing 
 from the sale of the work. 
 
 The work had a remarkable sale, over six hundred 
 thousand copies being sold. In October, 188G, the prof- 
 its accruing to the Grant heirs amounted to $350,000, 
 which was paid to them in two checks of $200,000 and 
 $150,000 respectively, which, without doubt, were the 
 largest checks ever paid for an author’s production in 
 the world. 
 
 In 1888, Mr. Clemens was the recipient of an honor 
 
62 
 
 PIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 from Yale University, extended as a recognition of his 
 distinguished literary attainments and prominence in 
 the world of letters, — the degree of M. A., which was ^ 
 conferred upon him by the institution in that year. 
 
 In 1889, “A Connecticut Yankee at King Arthur’s 
 Court’’ was written. The book was widely read and 
 commented upon in America and in England, the people 
 of the latter country being indescribably shocked by 
 Mr. Clemens’ lack of reverence for the times and tradi- 
 tions of Chivalrous England, but the average readers 
 of an independent turn of mind enjoyed Mr. Clemens’ 
 admirable satire upon much-vaunted customs and 
 personages. 
 
 In 1893, Mr. Clemens wrote the charming story, 
 “Pudd’nhead Wilson,” a work which was responsible 
 for a neAV fad among faddists — the collection of thumb- 
 prints. The book is ingeniously constructed, and even 
 in this late day displayed the fertility of Mr. Clemens’ 
 Missouri reminiscences, the scene of the book being laid 
 in a southern Missouri river town, whose character- 
 istics were strikingly depicted, the leading figure be- 
 ing an eccentric i^ersonage, Pudd’nhead Wilson, whose 
 chief failing was the collection of thumb-prints of peo- 
 ple svho came within his observation, a novel thing 
 wliich the people of the staid old town laughed at until 
 l\Tlson, who was a struggling lawyer, used some of his 
 collection to advantage in a problematic murder case, 
 solving thereby an intricate mystery. 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 63 
 
 The origin of the idea of taking thumb-prints and 
 the eTolving of the unique theory, so infallibly applied 
 always that, whatever may be duplicated in human na- 
 ture, at no time is it possible to find two thumbs which 
 have exactly the same sort of lines and which make the 
 same imjtrint, is mooted, but at best is to be credited, 
 at least, in its developed form, to Mark Twain in all his 
 versatile brilliancy. He tells a storj’ in his “Life on the 
 Mississippi” which, whether true or not, is undoubtedly 
 the source of the leading feature of Pudd’uhead 'Wil- 
 son’s unique personality. 
 
 The story was told by an old Clermau to ]\Iark Twain 
 in Munich, Bavaria, early in the seventies. The story 
 was of a midnight assault upon the old German’s home 
 in Arkansas, by a pair of murderous scoundrels, belong- 
 ing to the Volunteer Army, during the Civil 'War. The 
 German’s wife and child had been murdered and the 
 only clue he had was the thuuib-i)rint of his visitors in 
 blood upon a document found lying upon the floor. The 
 German said that he had been acquainted with an old 
 Frenchman, years before, who had an idea that the 
 print of a man’s thumb never changed and was never 
 duplicated. Painstakingly the old man searched, witli 
 the Frenchman’s theory in mind, for duplicates of the 
 thumb-print, assuming to be a fortune-teller and secur- 
 ing the thumb-prints of suspects in the camp of the 
 Army. At last he found a duplicate, and the man who 
 
 helped in the murder of his famil3^ 
 
 — 5 — 
 
(54 
 
 FIVE EAMOVfi M I^HOinUAE^i. 
 
 This story, sensational and weird as it is, undoubt- 
 edly constituted the first idea Mark Twain had in mind 
 when he wrote “Pudd’nhead Wilson.” The book con- 
 veyed a striking- idea to the public and was widely 
 sought after. 
 
 Up to 3894, Mr. Clemens was financially connected 
 w ith the publishing house of Webster & Company; but 
 that year, owdng to the fact that throughout the entire 
 intervening time Mr. Clemens was so engaged in other 
 wmrk that he could not give his personal supervision to 
 the business affairs of the concern, it was incapably 
 conducted. Finally, in 1894, it failed with liabilities 
 amounting to .|96,000 and assets less than |33,000. Mr. 
 Clemens did his utmost to save the firm from bank- 
 ruptcy, contributing |G5,000 for that purpose, but wdth- 
 out avail. He previously had lost a fortune in a type- 
 setting machine, and, having wasted his private fortune 
 in efforts to save the publishing house from ruin, he 
 now found himself practically without financial resour- 
 ces and encumbered with that most oppressive burden 
 —debt. 
 
 The fortune which Mr. Clemens lost in the type-set- 
 ting machine ought to serve as a monument to the aid 
 he, in his speculative generosity, gave to the central 
 idea of a most indispensable auxiliary of modern jour- 
 nalism. He invested ft 90,000 in trying to start the 
 enterprise, but, when the machines seemed a failure, 
 the patent wms sold and he lost what he had invested. 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 65 
 
 The story extends over fully twelve or fifteen years 
 of his life. James W. Paige, the original inventor of 
 the type-setting machine, moved to Hartford, Conn., 
 from Bridgeport, his former home, and began the erec- 
 tion of a plant to manufacture his machines. He inter- 
 ested local men of means in his idea, among others, 
 Mark Twain, who invested $190,000 from time to time. 
 The inventor was in no hurry to take out patents, de- 
 laying continuously, interesting prospective stockhold- 
 ers thereby. He exhibited his machine at the World’s 
 Fair successfully and made arrangements to have the 
 machines manufactured in Chicago, but the firm of 
 manufacturers was not properly equipped and it 
 withdrew on the verge of bankruptcy. Mark Twain 
 finally induced a St. Louis capitalist to invest in the 
 scheme, hoping to recover some of the money he had 
 invested, but the machine of Paige’s was too expen- 
 sively built, so the patents were sold to the Mergen- 
 thaler Company for $20,000. Mr. Clemens never recov- 
 ered any of his fortune lost thereby, and never will, al- 
 though many of Paige’s ideas, in which he invested so 
 heavily, have been placed in use. 
 
 Mark Twain’s loss of fortune is one of the most 
 pathetic stories in the history of American literature. 
 It rivals Sir Walter Scott’s financial ruin. It produced 
 a widespread sympathy, unequalled in any time. Peo- 
 ple of every nation, kindred, and tribe had laughed with 
 Mark Twain for fully twentj’-five years; they at length 
 
6G 
 
 FIVE FAMOVF M ! SSOUFI AF! F. 
 
 had an o]»]ioi-i unity to sympathize with the famous 
 liumorist and writer, brought down almost into tlie 
 straits of ]>overty by Ids long sei-ies of financial mlsfor- 
 I lines. He had carried a double burden, the type-setting 
 machine and the publishing bouse, so bis failure, when 
 it came, was most disastrous and swepit awa}’ the re- 
 turns from a lifetime’s work. 
 
 The spectacle which was jiresented by Clemens’ 
 bankrupitcy and the sympathy with him proves that 
 mankind does not always forget an obligation, for every 
 effort was made to repiay him for the many hours of 
 amusement and edification he had given it. 
 
 While he was in London, bending under the doubh* 
 weight of years and debts, James Cordon P.ennett’s 
 great paper, the New York Herald, started a subscrip- 
 tion through the Herald to pay Mark Twain’s debts. A 
 few days passed and the sum was reaching up info thou- 
 sands, when Mr. Clemens cabled his refusal of their 
 generous overture of financial aid. He expiressed his 
 heart.y apipreciatton of the sympathy and esteem of his 
 countrymen, but desired, he said, to pay his own debts, 
 if possible. 
 
 And he did. Soon his pien was at work on a manu- 
 script, which, coupled with the jiroceeds of a lectui'e 
 tour of file world, pjaid the debts. The world once more 
 applauded the humorist for again proving his excep- 
 tional honor. 
 
 The beginning of this lecture tour was at Paris, 
 where he and his family had been living for nearly two 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 67 
 
 years. They sailed for America, where all preparations 
 for this feat of “following the equator” began. As a 
 l esult of this trip, the book, “Following the Equator,” 
 was written in 1895 and 189G; the proceeds accruing, to- 
 g(dher with the profits from lectures delivered en route, 
 ] aid the last of his debts. 
 
 “The Personal Kecollections of Joan of Arc,” a book 
 written and published the year of the failure of the 
 publishing firm, is feigned to be the translation of a 
 memoir left unpublished by her private secretary. By 
 many it is considered the most serious and imaginative 
 work that Mark Twain has ever written. 
 
 In June, 1897, Mark Twain was in London. At the 
 Queen’s jubilee, held in the English metropolis, he 
 acted as correspondent for the New York Journal, and 
 .:Vmerican readers once more were afforded the pleasure 
 of reading his whimsical humor, interspersed with 
 graphic descriptions of this joyful commemoration held 
 on the sixtieth anniversary of the Queen’s reign. In a 
 subtle, iconoclastic manner, Clemens treated his subject, 
 as did he in “Innocents Abroad.” Even the titled and 
 the noble did not escape the unerring i)en of this thor- 
 ough American, and, regardless of rank, Twain’s pen 
 sought them out for contusion with his quill, so accus- 
 tomed to satire at nobility. 
 
 Few men attain universal distinction; in fact, to day 
 there are not probably over a dozen living personalities 
 whose fame is world-wide, Exeeptiug some gve;q 
 
68 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE 1MISEOVRIAN8. 
 
 naval or army hero, Mark Twain’s name is perhaps 
 more familiar to the reading world than any other. 
 Naturally he has become cosmopolitan in his speech 
 and habits, but withal is a typical representative of 
 America and its institutions, his residence abroad not 
 having changed in the least the disposition of this 
 droll, unassuming American. He has ever been popu- 
 lar in Continental Europe, since his first visit abroad 
 in 1867. Since that memorable first visit to Europe, 
 his reputation and popularity has been steadily increas- 
 ing, until it may be very properly said that no Amer- 
 ican author, since the time of Irving and Cooper, 
 has achieved a popularity commensurate with Mark 
 Twain’s. 
 
 Many of the leading orders of merit on the Conti- 
 nent have solicited his membership and he has become 
 a member of some of the societies. One day a reporter 
 asked him if he were not a member of a certain order. 
 “Yes,” he answered with a sigh; “few escape it.” 
 
 The years 1897, ’98, ’99 have been spent by Mark 
 Twain and his family in England, Switzerland, and 
 jVustria, where he is almost as popular as in the coun- 
 try of his nativity. No important society function is 
 considered complete without his presence to enliven 
 the occasion with his choicest bits of genuine American 
 humor. Many times has Mark Twain been in attend- 
 ance at prominent social functions where he was the 
 only titleless guest present. While popular in all the 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 69 
 
 leading countries of Europe, he is probably best known 
 in Germany. Since the inhabitants of that country 
 read “Innocents Abroad,” all Germany has searched 
 eagerly for any facts relating to the life of the humor- 
 ist. The importance that stories of his early life at- 
 tached to Missouri induced many to believe that Mis- 
 souri is the capital of “The States.” 
 
 When he returns from this trip abroad, American 
 readers expect another powerful novel from his pen, 
 although Mr. Clemens has not stated that this res- 
 idence in Europe was for the purpose of gathering ma- 
 terial for another volume, but, judging by precedent, 
 we may expect a new work from his pen, for hitherto 
 he has utilized the experiences of every locality in 
 which he has remained for any considerable period of 
 time. 
 
 But whatever may be the future achievements of 
 Mark Twain, the world is already satisfied with his life- 
 work, yet hopes that Time ma.}' grant him many more 
 years of usefulness. Missourians, especially, should 
 be proud of his achievements, for out of their own com- 
 monwealth’s borders has emanated the greatest humor- 
 ist of the nineteenth century, and a novelist occupying 
 a high place in the lists of litterateurs; a native of their 
 own State who has been successively a printer, pilot, 
 miner, editor, author, humorist, and tourist; until at 
 last his name has become a household word in nearly 
 all the civilized countries of the world. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MARK TWAIN’S PERSONALITY AND 
 LIFE-WORK. 
 
 The persouality of Mark is unique and decidedly 
 original, for it contains many characteristics giving 
 him a distinction of person unlike that of any other 
 celebrity. He has been aptly styled “the funniest man 
 in America,” and naturally the personality of a pei*son 
 holding such a peculiar position is attractive; but 
 humor is but a small portion of his mental make-up, for 
 if he possessed that faculty alone, the world would 
 not have manifested the great interest in his life and 
 achievements that it has. One has but to look at his 
 portrait to realize that he is more than a humorist of 
 the ordinary school. Any likeness of Mark Twain pre- 
 sents a strong face, evincing determination, energy, 
 and ])Owei‘; a face with broad brow, and eyes that seem 
 to peneti-ate one's very thoughts, so keen and piercing 
 are they in appearance. His countenance and features 
 are those of a statesman, and peculiarly American — 
 even his eyes and nose are strongly suggestive of the 
 eyes and beak of the American eagle. 
 
 A celebrated English writer once expressed himself 
 as being convinced that in Samuel L. Clemens America 
 ]iad lost one of her greatest statesmen; had he been 
 
SAMUEL L. GLEMEyS. 
 
 born earlier and Lad the storm-center of politics been 
 whirling some farther westward, perhaps we to-day 
 would be reverencing President Samuel Clemens as the 
 personality who guided our country through the dark 
 days of 1861-65, and Abraham Lincoln might have been 
 known only as an inimitable story-teller. However, 
 Mr. Clemens never engaged himself in politics, except 
 very briefly while he was editor of the l^irginia City 
 Enterprise; nevertheless it is quite conceivable that the 
 Englishman's estimate of the sti-ength of his character 
 is not overdrawn. 
 
 Eccentricity is often a consjticuous characteristic of 
 men of genius, and of Mark Twain many stories are 
 told illustrating his idiosyncrasies. Some may be ]>rop- 
 erly related, for certain of these peculiarities have ever 
 characterized him. 
 
 One morning in the early autumn, several years ago, 
 ]\Iark Twain compelled his manager to keep his con- 
 tract to the letter in a novel way. In order to reach a 
 certain city, where Mark was to lecture, it was neces- 
 sary for the party to arise at halt-past three on this par- 
 ticular cool morning in order to take the four o’clock 
 train. When Mark, his wife, his daughter. Miss Clara, 
 and Major Pond, his manager, reached the station, they 
 were very much chagrined to read on the bulletin, ‘‘Pa- 
 cific Mail one hour and twenty minutes late.” Mark 
 eventually became impatient and said, “Pond, you have 
 contracted that I shall travel, therefore you must carry 
 
72 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 out your agreement.” And, despite the entreaties and 
 remonstrances of Mrs. Clemens and Miss Clara, he sat 
 down in a wheelbarrow, and Major Pond pushed him 
 ui> and down the platform until the train arrived. 
 
 Perhaps the most unique letter ever received by the 
 Agricultural Department, at Washington, was written 
 by this droll and eccentric humorist. It was while J. 
 Sterling Morton was Secretary of Agriculture that he 
 received this peculiar letter: 
 
 '"Dear Sir , — Your petitioner, Mark Twain, a poor 
 farmer of Connecticut — indeed, the poorest one there 
 in the opinion of envy — desires a few choice breeds of 
 seed corn (maize), and in return will support the Ad- 
 ministration in all ways, honorable and otherwise. 
 
 “To speak by the card, I want these things to cari’y 
 1o Italy to an English lady. She is a neighbor of mine 
 outside of Florence, and has a great garden and thinks 
 slie could raise corn for her table if she had the right 
 ammunition. I myself feel a warm interest in this 
 enterprise, both on patriotic grounds and because I 
 have a. key to that garden which I got from a wax im- 
 pression. It is not very good soil, still I think she can 
 l aise enough for one table, and I am in a position to 
 select the table. 
 
 “If you are willing to abet a countryman (and Gil- 
 der thinks you are), please find the signature and ad- 
 dress of your petitioner below. 
 
 “Respectfully and truly yours, Marh Twain. 
 
 “P. S. — A handful of choice (Southern) watermelon 
 seeds would pleasantly add to that lady’s employment 
 and give my table a corresponding lift.” 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 73 
 
 Secretary Morton, of course, appreciated tkis keen 
 satire on tke seed-distributing function of tbe Depart- 
 ment, but sent tbe seeds. 
 
 Another letter written by Mr. Clemens to Washing- 
 ton also had the desired effect. Just after Cleveland's 
 second inauguration, Clemens walked into the United 
 States consulate at Frankfort, Germany. There he 
 found Captain IMason, the consul, getting ready to 
 depart for America. 
 
 “Why, what occasions this procedure?'’ asked Mark. 
 
 “A new President has been inaugurated,” was the 
 reply, “and as I am a Republican, of course a Democrat 
 will take my x^lace.” 
 
 “You wait until we see about this matter.” And 
 forthwith Mr. Clemens went to his hotel and wrote the 
 following letter to Ruth Cleveland: 
 
 “il/y dear Ruth , — I belong to the Mugwumps, and 
 one of the most sacred rules of our order prevents us 
 from asking favors of officials or recommending men 
 to office, but there is no harm in writing a friendly 
 letter to you and telling you that an infernal outrage is 
 about to be committed by your father in turning out of 
 office the best consul I know (and I know a great many), 
 just because he is a Republican and a Democrat wants 
 his place. 
 
 “I can’t send any message to the President, but the 
 next time you have a talk with him concerning such 
 matters I wish you would tell him about Captain 
 IMason and what I thinlv of a Government that so treats 
 its efflciemt officials.” 
 
74 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURfANS. 
 
 Several weeks later Mr. Clemens was the recipient 
 of a letter i)tirportinj;' to have been written by “Baby 
 Until,'' in which it was stated that tlie President was 
 vei-y thankful for such information, and that Cajilain 
 INfason would be retained in the hh-ankfoi-t consnlatic 
 
 Mr. Clemens has an intense dislike for clothes; in 
 fact, it is said that the greater part of his manuscripts 
 are prepared while the humorist is in bed, and if it were 
 not for ]\[rs. Clemens, he would probably a])]»ear at im- 
 portant social functions in his pajamas, which he wears 
 almost all of the time. M’hen on a lecture tom-, he 
 would wear his sleeping-clothes all day, only discard- 
 ing them in time to ajipear at the appointed ]dace for 
 his lectiiri*. Several limes news])aper men have inter- 
 viewed him in bed. a]uo]H)s of winch another story is 
 bdd. 
 
 On the tri]) in which he was engaged in gathering 
 material for his book “Following the Equatoi-,” he be- 
 came sick at Vancouver and was compelled to i-emain 
 ther(‘ foui- days in bed. A nnmber of re])orters were 
 ontside i-eqnesting to see him, so IMajitr Pond Aveiit to 
 Mr. Clemens’ room and said: “A number of reporters 
 
 are outside desiring to see you.” “Show them up,” he 
 replied, “and ask them to excuse my bed.” This was 
 the last interview he accorded to news}»aper men in 
 America. 
 
 On this same trip occurred another amnsing epi- 
 sode. As is well knoAvn, Mt’, Clemens is an inveterate 
 
t<AMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 10 
 
 smoker and one scarcely ever sees him without a pipe 
 or cigar. The day preceding his sailing from Victoria 
 for Honolnln he purchased several thousand cheroots 
 and fifteen pounds of tobacco to smoke in his pipe. In 
 the midst of his lecture that evening he stopped ab- 
 ruptly, and, beckoning his manager to come to the 
 stage, said: “I’ond, I’m afraid that cigar store will 
 
 close before I get through with this lecture. You go 
 over there and buy fifteen hundred more of those 
 cheroots.’’ Then he turned nonchalantly to his audi- 
 ence and resumed his lecture as if such procc-^edings 
 were nothing out of the ordinary. 
 
 Few men have keener eyes than Mark Twain. He 
 observes with amazing clearness and accuracy, which 
 accounts for his graphic descriptions and character de- 
 lineations. A well-known author once said: ‘T would 
 hate to do something x'eal mean, and have Mark Twain 
 turn those seai-ching eyes of his u}xon me, for I verily 
 believe he could tell that I was guilty.” 
 
 When not engaged in literary work, Mr. Clemens 
 spends the greater part of his leisure hours in playing 
 billiards, a game of which he is very fond. He is also 
 a base-ball enthusiast, attending games freipiently 
 when in America. One day at a ball game he became 
 very much excited about a brilliant play that was made, 
 and in his excitement forgot to look after his umbrella. 
 When it came time to go home, he looked about for it, 
 but it was gone. The next day he caused this strange 
 
76 
 
 FIVE FAMOUE MltiHOVIUAFS. 
 
 poster to be stuck up: “Five dollars reward for iiiy 
 
 umbrella and several hundred in addition for the 
 capture of the one who stole it, dead or alive.” 
 
 It is said that few writers whose works teem with 
 humor are really humorous in their convei-sation, or 
 bi-illiant at repartee; however, in the person of Mark 
 Twain is found an exception. His apt wit is illus- 
 trated by the following incident: At a New England 
 
 society dinner Clemens had just finished a piquant ad- 
 dress, when William M. Evarts arose with his hands in 
 his pockets, as was his habit, and said: “Does it not 
 
 seem unusual to this gathering 1hat a professional 
 humorist should really appear funny?” Clemens 
 waited till the laughter occasioned b}' this sally had 
 subsided, then arose, and, with his accustomed drawl, 
 replied: “Does it not also appear strange to this as- 
 
 sembly that a lawyer should have his hands in his own 
 pockets?” 
 
 Mr. Clemens’ use of incidents in his every-day life 
 to make stories rich in humor and extravagance is illus- 
 trated by an incident said to have occurred in a Ger- 
 man city. He was riding in a street-car and making an 
 extravagant display of himself wdiich astonished the 
 natives and puzzled the conductor. He would ruthless- 
 ly, purposely, and surreiititionsly destroj^ the checks, 
 given him by the gate-keepers, indicating that he had 
 ]»aid his fare. He is said to have paid his fare eleven 
 times on one trip, just to get the material out of which 
 
iiAMVEL L. CLEMEE^. 
 
 lie made a most laughable and amusing story, which 
 commanded a high figure with the editors. 
 
 It is said that Mr. Clemens inherited many of his 
 characteristics from his father and mother. His father, 
 John M. Clemens, was one of the hardy pioneers that 
 j»aved the way for ISIissouri’s development as a State. 
 During his life in Hannibal he officiated in the capacity 
 of justice of the peace for that pioneer village, and, be- 
 cause of his integrity and conservatism, was one of the 
 most respected citizens of the town. He died while 
 Samuel was a youth in Hannibal. 
 
 Mr. Clemens’ mother lived to the advanced age of 
 eighty-three years, dying in 1892, at the home of her 
 son, Orion S. Clemens, in Keokuk, Iowa, and was l)uried 
 by the side of her husbaud in Hannibal. Even in old 
 age, Mrs. Clemens had retained much of her youthful 
 beauty. Her hair ivas curly and snow-white in color, 
 while her complexion was very fair, with cheeks of 
 rosy hue, even until a few months preceding her death. 
 She was fastidious in her dress, and always adorned 
 her head with fancy white caps trimmed with lace and 
 ribbons. In conversation she was witty, drawling her 
 words very much like her celebrated son, of whom she 
 was very proud, as of her other children. 
 
 Of Mrs. Clemens’ family, Orion S. Clemens, as many 
 know, became secretary of the Territory of Xevada, liv- 
 ing for several years in the West. He died several 
 years ago in Keokuk, where his widow yet resides. 
 
78 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Henry Clemens, at the age of twenty, was killed in the 
 steamboat explosion of the ill-fated ^‘Pennsylvania,” 
 near Memi^his, Tennessee. He was a youth of promis 
 ing prospects, and, had he lived, doubtless would have 
 l)ecome conspicuous in life. Mr. Clemens’ sister, Mrs. 
 Parmelia A. Moffett, a lady of culture and intelligence, 
 is now a resident of Fredonia, Aew York. Her son, 
 Samuel E. Moffett, is a well-known newspaper man of 
 New York. 
 
 Mark Twain’s immediate family comprises himself, 
 his wife and two children, Clara Langdon Cfemens and 
 Jean Clemens, aged twenty-five and nineteen years, 
 resjtecfively. Two other children were born to Mr. and 
 IMrs. Clemens — Langdon, in 1871, and Susan Olivia, in 
 1872. The former died in 1872 and the latter in 1890. 
 
 Mrs. Clemens and their children generally accompa- 
 nied the humorist on his travels, and their home life, 
 with such a congenial companion, their husband and 
 father, is naturally pleasant. For many years they re- 
 sided in Hartford, Connecticut, in delightful neighbor- 
 liness with Harriet Beecher Stowe and Charles Dudley 
 Warner. Hartford has always been their home, with 
 the excei)tion of a few summers spent in Elmira, New 
 York. 
 
 To classify Mark Twain in literature is a trifle difti 
 cult, for the vei'satility displayed in his productions 
 proves that he has been eminently successful in numer- 
 ous fields. As a writer of character sketches, because 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 79 
 
 of liis power as a delineator of character and portrayer 
 of scenes, dealing with various phases of American life, 
 he is probably unsurpassed. As a humorist, with all 
 the extravagance peculiar to American representatives 
 of that field, no one has divided his standing as the 
 typical representative. In marked contrast with Mark 
 Twain the humorist, with all his grotesqueness in 
 expression and narrative, is Mark Twain the man of 
 vividity, the author of works of historical value. Yet, 
 despite this versatility, his popularity undoubtedly 
 rests largely upon one phase of his writings — that is the 
 delicious humor pervading his productions, which war- 
 rants his classification as a humorist. As such there 
 are few authors who ever lived who have been more 
 popular with the masses than he. 
 
 Excepting some early verses published in the Han- 
 nibal Messenger, Clemens’ first writing for publication 
 was a newspaper article, published in the New Orleans 
 True Delta. It was a burlesque upon a paragraph re- 
 lating to information about the river written by Captain 
 Isaiah Sellers under the nom de guerre “Mark Twain.” 
 Sellers was an authority upon all matters relating to 
 the stage or history of the river, having been in service 
 ever since transportation and traffic began on its sur- 
 face. Naturally he possessed a large fund of reminis- 
 cences and bits of historical fact concerning the Mis- 
 sissippi. These he would intersperse freely, and often 
 ill-timed, when reporting bits of information about the 
 — 6 — 
 
80 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 river to the New Orleans Picayune. One day while 
 Clemens was a “cub” pilot, he chanced to read one of 
 these paragraphs, which he burlesqued in an extended 
 article. Samuel exhibited his production to a number 
 of pilots, who secured the manuscript and had it pub- 
 lished in the New Orleans True Delta. It elicited a 
 great deal of comment from river men, being enjoyed 
 by all except the man who was the subject of the bur- 
 lesque. Thenceforth Captain Sellers absolutely de- 
 tested Clemens. 
 
 Clemens’ first literary production to attract general 
 attention was “Innocents Abroad,” which established 
 his reputation as a humorist. The principal elements 
 of Twain’s humor in this creation are irreverence and 
 exaggeration. To this young Yankee reporter, for such 
 he was at that time, nothing was sacred. His innate 
 hate of shams and cant is readily discerned in “Inno- 
 cents Abroad.” “It laughed away,” says Vedder, “the 
 sentimental, the romantic book of travels.” But there 
 is in the book more than the iconoclastic satire, for the 
 work teems with skillfully drawn descriptions and 
 strong characterizations. 
 
 In point of description “Roughing It” is similar to 
 “Innocents Abroad,” and the same quaint humor is 
 common to both creations. In fact, all of Twain’s pro- 
 ductions up until “Tom Sawyer” was produced were 
 nearly alike in characterization and in portraiture. The 
 delineation of character and description of scenes in the 
 
SAMUEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 81 
 
 West during its wild unsettled era make “Kougliing 
 It” a book of exceptional value. Clemens writes it, not 
 from research into the conditions of that period, but as 
 an actual participant in the happenings of that excit- 
 ing era, for such he was, as is almost universally known. 
 Bret Harte has told of the turbulent mining camps of 
 California, while Joaquin Miller in verse has vividly 
 portrayed the beauty of the Western mountains, bnt it 
 has remained for Mark Twain to be the real historian 
 of the early-day West. In “Boughing It” he has left 
 behind realistic pen-pictures of the emigrant train, 
 crossing the great desert to reach the mines, where en- 
 sued the scramble of the Argonauts of the period for 
 the precious metal. It tells of the time when law and 
 order were unknown, and when the pistol, held in the 
 hands of daring desperadoes, was the master of the 
 situation. There is also told of the period when by a 
 chance stroke of the pick or shovel men were made 
 millionaires, and as quickly, by the turn of a card, ren- 
 dered paupers. The book breathes the spirit of the 
 times and its environments — ^the vast alkali plains, the 
 canons of sublime grandeur, and the mountains nn- 
 excelled in all the world for their picturesqueness and 
 extent. Apparently the descriptions are treated super- 
 ficially, but in fact they are minute and graphic. 
 
 “A Tramp Abroad,” written upon his second trip 
 abroad, contains the_ same clear and impressive and 
 delightful humor found in “Innocents Abroad,” but did 
 
8:2 
 
 FIVE FAMOVE MIBEOVRIAFS. 
 
 not attain the popularity with the reading public as 
 did his first book of travel. The book contains some 
 of his most humorous descriptions of personal experi- 
 ences on his trip through Germany and Switzerlaud. 
 
 Perhaps the books most familiar to Western readers 
 are “Tom Sawyer” and “Huckleberry Finn.” Both deal 
 with pioneer life in Missonri fifty years ago, although 
 the latter also has to do with life on the Mississippi in 
 those days. The first named is a story of boy life in 
 “St. Petersburg” (Hannibal, Missouri), at the time Mis- 
 souri was being settled, chiefly by emigrants from Vir- 
 ginia and Kentucky. To everyone who has spent his 
 boyhood in the country or in a village the story conres 
 as a pleasing retrospect of the past. The scenes and 
 characters are portrayed with irhotographical exact- 
 ness. The book is adapted to please all periods of the 
 human life; the youth reads it because of the adven- 
 tures contained therein, and his father reads it, finding 
 therein pleasant reminiscences of his boyhood days, or, 
 to be idiomatic, he “reads between the lines.” 
 
 A celebrated English novelist. Sir Walter Besant, 
 was once importuned to write for an American publi- 
 cation an article entitled “My Favorite Novelist and 
 His Best Book.” As his subjects he chose Mark Twain 
 and “Huckleberry Finn.” To the assumed erudite his 
 selection appeared a trifle undignified, but to the truly 
 discerning he manifested keen discrimination, for the 
 book in many respects is one of the most powerful 
 
V 
 
 SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 83 
 
 novels of our language. Undoubtedly a work that in- 
 terests 'and amuses all periods of life is one of strong 
 dramatic situations and evinces genius on the part of 
 the author for having the power to so adapt it. In 
 ‘‘Huckleberry Finn” Mark Twain has develope<l a phase 
 of life and treated of a period untouched by any other 
 writer. The earliest days of the Southwest are therein 
 told with a vividness unprecedented, and what is not 
 told the genius of the author has so subtly provided for 
 that the reader finds it suggested to him. At the outset 
 the author asserts that there is no motive in the narra- 
 tive, no moral in the story, and concludes by saying the 
 book is -ttithout a plot. And an innovation the novel is 
 found to be by those who pursue its fascinating pages, 
 l^erhaps partly made so by these absences of what had 
 previously been deemed essentials in that branch of 
 literature. 
 
 It tells of a time not so long ago in years, for the 
 time of the story is scarcely fifty years ago; bvit time 
 has brought about such revolutionary transformations 
 that it seems as though an age had elapsed between 
 then and now. With Huckleberry and his companion, 
 “Nigger” Jim, the reader slowly glides down the great 
 river while the scenes continuously pass. As we be- 
 come absorbed in its graphic descriptions, imagination 
 makes us feel that we are aboard the rude raft, and 
 see passing by in the rich Mississippi moonlight the 
 great steamers and hear the voice of “a surly boatman, 
 
84 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 rough as waves or wind.” At such times Huckleberry 
 and Jim kept close to shore, fearing that the latter 
 would be captured, for he was none other than a fugi- 
 live slave, and that the foraier would be found with 
 such a companion, which, in his anti-abolitionistic opin- 
 ion, 'meant permanent disgrace. As they seek the cover 
 of the bushes that fringe the banks in order to escape 
 Ihe detection of a passing raft or steamboat, we cau 
 almost hear the svdsh of the current, the ploughing of 
 the steamer’, and the rolling of the waves against the 
 bank, occasioned by the gigantic wheel of the craft. 
 After a series of escapades, the pair reach the borders 
 of Kentucky, Mdiere they became involved in a feud 
 prevailing at that time. Their adventures are so spir- 
 ited and the environments so realistically portrayed 
 that the description of a Kentucky feud may be said to 
 be the best ever given in American literature. 
 
 But the scene shifts, and the reader finds his two 
 adventurers on the Arkansas shore, in company with 
 two wandering rogues and vagabonds, whom they wei;e 
 compelled to take aboard on the way, and the entire 
 ]>arty draw up to the bank, where they have arrived in 
 town on that day of days — circus day. Next ensues a 
 series of adventures, invohdng scenes and events at that 
 time such as camp-meetings, and like events character- 
 istic of the period and place. But enough of the skele 
 ton of the story, for no description is adequate to tell 
 of what the book contains. 
 
SAMVEL L. CLEMENS. 
 
 85 
 
 In genera] it is a romance with more history of the 
 Mississippi Valley at that period, politically of course 
 excepted, than is contained in all other volumes com- 
 bined. In addition to that, the book is of great philo- 
 logical import, involving, as it does, the dialect and 
 idiomatic speech of the time of the story. 
 
 All of his works dealing with American life, as has 
 been observed, bear a biographical relation to the 
 author. Naturally, the others are of lesser import to 
 Americans. 
 
 The record of the career of Samuel L. Clemens is 
 impossible in any other country than America, and 
 moreover the same course of life can never again be ex- 
 perienced by anyone in America, for the conditions have 
 changed. Born in a frontier village in Missouri 'at the 
 time the surrounding region was in its most picturesque 
 phase, his early life was spent among conditions that 
 nowhere now prevail in America. Then he spent near- 
 ly ten years on the world’s greatest river at the time 
 when it was one of the greatest commercial water-ways 
 of the globe. That scene of activity has since passed 
 away with the coming of the railroad. Next he is found 
 in the West at the time the pioneer was beginning to 
 reclaim this great region from the dominion of the Red 
 Man. These spirited and peculiar conditions have since 
 been supplanted by productive fields, rich mines, and 
 prosperous trade-centers. The conditions enumerated 
 have all since passed away, but the world is extremely 
 
86 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 glad that he (Clemens) lived in the midst of them, 
 constituting as they do the determining periods of his 
 life, for he alone has, in his writings, preserved remi- 
 niscences of those times as valuable history for genera- 
 tions who experienced them not. 
 
 V 
 
RICMARD PARKS BLAND. 
 
 STATESMAN AND PUBLICIST. 
 

 -=: . . ■' • -V 
 
 S' .,' r-'' --TV 
 
 ,i* 
 
 \ I 
 
 '-■■r :. 
 
 
INTEODUCTION. 
 
 Eicharcl Parks Bland was an unique figure in Amer- 
 ican politics. The history of the Eepublic cannot be 
 written without assigning a high place and large space 
 to this unpretentious Missouri farmer. Wherever 
 money circulates or civilization abounds, his name is 
 familiar to the ears of men, and is spoken with rever- 
 ence and affection by millions who never looked upon 
 his rugged face, and to whose language he was an utter 
 stranger. He belonged to that very small group of 
 American statesmen who achieved imperishable re- 
 nown without reaching the presidency. You can count 
 them on the fingers of your two hands without counting 
 twice; but, whoever else may be excluded from that 
 goodly company by the inexorable test of time. Bland 
 will stand there immortal. 
 
 What was the secret of this man’s wondrous hold 
 upon the affections of mankind? Not dazzling genius, 
 for he had none. Not soul-stirring eloquence, for he 
 was no orator. Not personal magnetism, for he was 
 destitute of it. Not courtly manners, for his were 
 brusque. Not great and varied learning, for his reading 
 was not wide and his investigations were limited to 
 economic subjects. Not scintillating wit, for his was a 
 serious mind. Not the cunning of demagogues, for he 
 
90 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 was artless as a little child. Not great wealth, for he 
 was poor in this world’s goods and had no desire for 
 riches. Not the glamor of military success, for, though 
 a brave Indian fighter on the Western frontier, he 
 never spoke of that feature of his life without being 
 asked about it, and then with blushing modesty. Not 
 a commanding presence, for, though his face was 
 strong, he would never have been selected as a leader 
 of men by his flesh marks alone. 
 
 In fact, he possessed few, if any, of the character- 
 istics which are usually deemed necessary to a” great 
 political career; nevertheless it is not too mnch to say 
 that he was one of the most potent factors in the poli- 
 tics of onr age; his influence girdled the globe and 
 favorably afl'ected the prosperity and happiness of 
 dwellers n})on the banks of the Ganges and the Nile, 
 as well as of the denizens of the Mississippi Valley. 
 When all the time-servers, douljle-dealers, and self- 
 seeking wire-pullers of this century molder in forgotten 
 graves, the pure life, the amazing self-abnegalion, the 
 lofty patriotism, the benignant philanthropy of “Silver 
 Dick” Bland will be discussed and applauded by the 
 historian of the time in which we live. 
 
 Young men ambitious of political preferment and 
 of a noble and enduring fame will do well to pass light- 
 ly by the shrewd manipulators and aspiring mounte- 
 banks, and to study profoundly the far-reaching results 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 91 
 
 of Bland’s career. They will discover that his com- 
 manding position was due to his intense devotion to 
 principle, to his absorbing love of truth, to his integrity 
 of mind, and to his uuquailing courage. He stood for 
 conscience in politics and for impartial justice and 
 equal rights to all God’s children. Without arrogance 
 of character, he possessed an independence of soul 
 which would not have flattered Neptune for his trident 
 or Jove for his power to thunder. He was what Marc 
 Antony described himself to be, but what Marc most 
 empha1:ically was not — “a. plain, blunt man, who loved 
 his friends,” and he died amid the lamentations of the 
 plain people, of whom he was the best type. 
 
 Bland was not only honest, but he avoided the very 
 appearance of evil — a thing to be commended in a 
 public man. For example, when his admirers in Colo- 
 rado presented him with a rich, magnificent silver ser- 
 vice for his table as a testimonial of their appreciation 
 of his great fight for silver, with a delicacy rare among 
 statesmen, he declined the splendid gift with thanks, 
 being unwilling that the great cause for which he stood 
 and which he had so much at heart should be smirched 
 by even the suspicion of a mercenary motive on his 
 part. The sight of the costly and artistic service was 
 enough to make a man’s mouth water, but I have not 
 even the shadow of a doubt' that Bland would have de- 
 clined the gift had it been another Comstock Lode. 
 
92 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 When, however, the silver wedding of the Blands 
 came around, and his Missouri colleagues in the House 
 and Senate presented them with a handsome silver 
 souvenir of their affection, he cheerfully accepted that, 
 for not even malice itself could suggest a sordid motive 
 in either the giving or acceptance. Republicans joining 
 heartily with Democrats in making the gift. 
 
 Though his public speeches contain no suggestion of 
 humor, in private conversation with those he liked he 
 was free, opeii, communicative, both telling an anec- 
 dote well, and enjoying the fun as much as any.* 
 
 He was too couliding and was easily imposed upon 
 by designing knaves, if they came to him in the sacred 
 name of friendship or of political kinship; but once 
 convince him of a man’s duplicity or meanness and he 
 shut his great tender heart against him resolutely, 
 mercilessly, and forever. Under provocation, he could 
 use language as harsh and vigorous as any mau I ever 
 knew; but these occasions were few and far between. 
 
 Socially he was a bashful man, a most lovable man. 
 It was a pleasure to accept the hospitality of the Blands 
 in their comfortable Washington home, where coutenl, 
 mutual trust, and loving kindness did abound. A 
 fonder husband, a tenderer father never lived, and he 
 had his ample reward in the unstinted love of his wife 
 and children. The family exerted a sweet, a whole- 
 some, a benign, an elevating influence over all with 
 whom they came in contact. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 93 
 
 Of Bland it may be said, as Thomas Jefferson said 
 of James Monroe: “He was so pure that if his soul 
 were turned inside out, you would not find a blot 
 upon it.” 
 
\ 
 
 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 ANCESTRAL ORIGIN AND EARLY LIFE. 
 
 For a statesman to attain the highest position in 
 his chosen field, he first must have reached the fullest 
 extent of usefulness to his constituencv; thus it is that 
 the only true way in which to measure a public man’s 
 worth is bj' determining the extent to which he has 
 labored and accomplished good for the people he serves. 
 A man may spend a lifetime of conspicuousness before 
 the public eye, winning the proudest laurels of an orator; 
 lie may become renowned for his shrewdness or his ex- 
 traordinary gift of diplomacy; he may be credited with 
 great political victories, yet if when the life is weighed 
 in the balance and the weight of genuine worth and ac- 
 complished good be not in the life’s favor, a discrimi- 
 nating and righteous judge is forced to conclude that 
 the career is lacking in essential itarticulars. 
 
 These considerations are paramount in weighing the 
 life and character of Richard Parks Bland, the true 
 elements of personal value being in his favor. The 
 spectacle of a life spent in impressing itself, uncon- 
 sciously, undesignedly, upon the history of a great peo- 
 ple is that which lends charm to the contemplation of 
 his figure. He was not an orator, yet his words on 
 certain occasions are part of the determining factors in 
 — 7 — 
 
96 
 
 FIVE FAMOTJH MIFEonniAyF. 
 
 the liistoi-y of public (piestioiis in Congress; he had not 
 wiiat men fear and stand in awe of, and style as shrewd- 
 m^ss, yet, when lie moved his forces in the campaigns of 
 Congress, his sagacionsness commanded the highest 
 admiration, while the astute ]H)liticians, with theii’ 
 Iceminess unavailing, weri* often compelled to retreat. 
 There were no laurels to be gotten by them in measur- 
 ing swords in open conflict with a man whose weapon 
 was truth, wielded with an arm sujiported by an un- 
 sw<u-ving conviction; whose political dwelling was in 
 an atmosphere of honesty; whose heart beat in sympa- 
 thy with the peopl(‘ whose lives ai'e the nnder-current 
 of society; whose mind’s eye was not bent upon the 
 luughts of ambition, and whose favors were not be- 
 stowed for selfish i-eturn. He was cambd to the point 
 of bluntness, and tirm to a degree that was unyielding, 
 yet his tirmness ;uid his frankness wei-e much more 
 feared by the peojile's enemies than equivocating, re- 
 sm'ving, and comjtromising statesmanship which pre- 
 tended to seek the jieojtle’s interest, while dealing with 
 their foes. Bland was a warrior whose lance dashed in 
 ojten sunlight, a i-hampion Avhose arena Wiis roofed by 
 the vaulted heavens. He was not of the kind to tread 
 lightly, cast about stealthily, evade an issue or consider 
 what his course on a public question meant to himself 
 and his political fortunes. 
 
 He was of the timber out of which Time makes 
 statesmen, and when decades hence the history of the 
 
RICHARD P. BLAXIJ. 
 
 97 
 
 epoch of American achievements extending from Becon- 
 strnction to the Spanish-American War is written, few 
 men of liis time will stand higher in the public esti- 
 mation than Ifland. 
 
 Not since the time of Thomas Hart Benton has any 
 j)nhlic man we st of the ^Mississippi River served so long 
 in Congress, having had so conspicuous a part in the 
 molding of contemporaneous history as Bland, and 
 the greatest part of his fame lies in the fact that the 
 liowerful iutliience of his intellect was exercised for 
 good, and every effort of his life directed toward the 
 betterment of the common jieople. in sympathy with 
 whom his great heart juilsated from ('arly manhood 
 until death claimed it.? own. 
 
 ^Vhile Mr. Bland’s ancestry is one of the least of 
 his claims to distinction, few, rising as he did into such 
 great heights politically, could trace family history in- 
 to such uni(pie and distinguished sources as he. Not- 
 withstanding his patrician fathers, no one can recall an 
 instance when the predominant traits of his intensely 
 democratic character permitted the exploiting of his 
 distinguished ancestry; in fact, it has remained for the 
 ones who have analyzed his character and genealogy t(.» 
 discover that there flowed in his veins the blood of the 
 aboriginal princes and jirincesses of the New World, 
 and tliat the best Englisli and Virginian blood was 
 intermingled in him. 
 
98 
 
 1<'IVE F AMOVE M1E8UUL-1AN8. 
 
 The history of Mr. Bland’s paternal ancestors rises 
 in an nnknown fountain-head, hut is traced ■with ease 
 from a central figure in an incident in American Colo- 
 nial history, constituting one of the most charming and 
 interesting chapters in the stirring tale of the settle- 
 ment and conquest of the region which once lay un- 
 developed and uncivilized on the western coast of the 
 Atlantic. 
 
 It is probably to be doubted that when the dark- 
 skinned Pocahontas saved the life of Captain John 
 Smith in the days of Colonial Virginia, anyone sup- 
 posed, from the offspring of this Indian maiden, there 
 would rise generation after generation of the flower of 
 Virginian intellect and talent. Yet it is strangely and 
 romantically true that the descent of consanguinity 
 from Pocahontas to the Blands is one of the most strik- 
 ing in the history of American families. 
 
 Pocahontas, daughter of Powhatan, an Indian chief 
 of Virginia, born about the year 1595, has a life filled 
 with romance familiar the world over to everyone who 
 knows of the laying of the foundation-stones of Ameri- 
 can settlement and civilization. She was about twelve 
 years of age when Cajdain John Smith was captured by 
 the aborigines and confronted by death in a most sav- 
 age form. Young Pocahontas had early shown an un- 
 usual friendliness toward the intruding white settlers, 
 and when her savage relatives brandished their mur- 
 derous weapons over the ill-fated Englishman, she 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 99 
 
 threw herself upon the Captain’s body and saved his 
 life. This opened for her intercourse with the English 
 colonists, then the advance-guards of civilization, and 
 she was soon removed from her Indian home by one 
 Captain Argali, who secured her person by bribing an 
 Trdian chief. On board Captain Argali’s ship she met 
 and loved a young Englishman, John Eolfe, and, upon 
 securing consent from her father and Sir Thomas Dale, 
 they were married at Jamestown, in April, 1613. 
 
 Pocahontas’ first and only visit to England was sad- 
 dened by the revelation to her that Captain Smith still 
 lived. When she met him in London, after the saluta- 
 tion, she hid her face in her hands, remaining in this 
 posture for several hours. It is said that her husband 
 for some unknown reason had been a party to the de- 
 ception practiced upon her by those who told her that 
 Smith was dead. It remains that she was about to de- 
 part from England in apparent regret, when death over- 
 took her and she never again saw her native land. Her 
 only son was educated by an uncle, a London merchant, 
 and settled in Virginia, becoming a person of consider- 
 able influence and consequence. His descendants are 
 among the best of Virginia’s product. 
 
 . Colonel Theodric Bland, of Virginia, was the grand- 
 son of Jane Eolfe, who was the daughter of Pocahontas’ 
 only son; hence was fifth in descent from the colo- 
 nists’ Indian friend, best known in history because of 
 her heroic stand for the life of Captain t^mitli. Eichard 
 
100 
 
 FIVFj FAMOliF MIFFOFFIANF. 
 
 J‘arks Bland is the great-grandson of Chdonel Bland; 
 hence the ancestral chain is easily followed from the 
 Missoni-i statesman back to Pocahontas and John 
 Bolfe, of England. 
 
 Colonel Theodric Bland, known as i)atriot, scholar, 
 gentleman, and more consjticnonsly as a member of 
 (ieneral Washington's staff in the Revolntion, was 
 born in Ih'ince (Jeorge County, Virginia, in 1742, and 
 was sent early in his youth to Wakefield, England, the 
 scene of Goldsmith's great literary work, “The Vicar 
 of Wakefield,” where he i)ursued academical studies, 
 siibseiinently taking up the study of medicine as a jtrep 
 a.ration for his life's jn'ofession, completing his edu- 
 cation at Edinburgh. As a young physician he settled 
 in the neighborhood of his birthplace, becoming a 
 pioneer worker for the elevation of the medical profes- 
 sion of America to high ethical standing. 
 
 One of the first propositions to regulate the prac- 
 tice of medicine in the Colonies by law Avas made by 
 l>r. Bland, who drew a ])etition, winch was sigmal by 
 his fellow-students and otlu'i' citizens of Virginia, then 
 ]ii-esented to the Virginia House of Burgesses, asking 
 them to enact a law forbidding the practice of medicine 
 in Virginia without the securing of a proper license. 
 
 At the very inception of the American Revolntion 
 Dr. Bland, however, abandoned his chosen profession to 
 lake up arms for the ('oloni(‘s mid to fight for tlu* cause 
 (if Indeptmdence, 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 101 
 
 Lord Duiimore, then Governor of Virginia, was par- 
 ticularly disliked bv the Vii'ginians of the times, who 
 shared in the radical anti-British views of Doctor 
 Bland. Dnnmore was discovered to have secreted in 
 his cellar a lot of ammunition abstracted from the Col- 
 ony's arsenal. This discovery incensed the people of 
 the Colony souinch that a party of Virginia gentlemen, 
 of whom Doctor Theodric Bland was a leader, went to 
 the residence of the Governor and took these stolen 
 arms from him. Shortly after this event a series of 
 letters, signed “Cassius, " appeared, creating consider- 
 able excitemeni because of the bitter denunciations of 
 Lord Dnnmore they contained. Dr. Bland, it was 
 afterwai-ds made known, was the author of the letters, 
 which had greatly to do with the crystallization of the 
 spirit of the times into invincible determination on the 
 j»art of the people of Virginia to achieve independence. 
 
 When the first troop of Virginia cavalry was organ- 
 ized, Theodric Bland was made captain, later becoming 
 lieutenant-colonel at the organization of six companies 
 of cavaliy, and as such he joined the main Colonial 
 Army in 1777. 
 
 Throughout the entire war, excepting a term in the 
 Virginia Senate. Lieutenant-( 'olonel Bland served in 
 the military forces of the Colonies, enjoying General 
 Washington’s esteem and confidence. He was on 
 Washington’s statf for some time during the latter por- 
 tion of the wnr, He was often given responsible trusts 
 
102 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 and had important posts entrusted to him. Among 
 other important missions placed in his hands was the 
 command of the prisoners taken at the battle of Sara- 
 toga, whence they were marched to Charlottesville, 
 Virginia. 
 
 After the close of the Revolution, Colonel Bland 
 Avas elected to the Continental Congress, where he was 
 distinguished for his valuable and able services. His 
 mansion at Philadelphia, duringthe sitting of Congress, 
 was the center of culture, thought, and patriotism. It 
 was known as the resort of the distinguished men of 
 the period, among whom were General Washington, 
 Marquis de Lafayette, M. de Noailles, M. de Dumas, and 
 others, who Avere in the habit of congregating at the 
 home of the Virginia representative for the exchange 
 of courtesies and counselling over the momentous 
 issues of the time. 
 
 He Avas continued in Congress until ILSS, at which 
 time he returned to Vii‘ginia. In 1778, he was called 
 from private life, and Avas elected delegate from Vir- 
 ginia to the convention to ratify the federal constitu- 
 tion. During the deliberations of this body he was an 
 active supporter of the spirit of the convention, al- 
 though at the close he patriotically dissented from 
 some of the advocates of the measures adopted, as well 
 as particular provisions of the constitution framed, vot- 
 ing as he did against the adoption of that compact. 
 However, such was the confidence reposed in him by 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 103 
 
 the people of Virginia, that he was elected as Virginia's 
 first representatire in the Congress formed under the 
 workings of the constitution which he had opposed. 
 He died June 1, 1790, during the sitting of Congress in 
 New York. 
 
 Theodric Bland is pronounced one of the most thor- 
 ough gentlemen of the Colonial period. He was tall, 
 possessed of a noble countenance, dignified in manner 
 and of well-bred repose. His social accomplishments 
 are referred to as setting olf an elegant and distin- 
 guished person. His public life and private character 
 are inseparable in Colonial recollection from rigid in- 
 tegrity and unfaltering espousal of and devotion to 
 principle. He was studious in his application of his 
 energies toward the performance of duty. 
 
 His descendants and kinsmen in Virginia and 
 Maryland comprise some of the most aristocratic and 
 cultured of the old families of those States. Marr-iage 
 and intermarriage have connected the family with 
 many whose names and deeds are part of Virginia’s 
 boasted excellence. The mother of John Randolph, 
 the famous Virginia statesman, was a Bland of direct 
 descent from Colonel Theodric Bland. The famous 
 Virginia family of Lees are closely connected. 
 
 None, however, of the distinguished descendants of 
 Theodric Bland, who was successively a student, phys- 
 ician, soldier, officer, representative in Congress, and 
 always a faithful friend and reliable counsellor, have 
 
104 
 
 FIVE ElMOOE MI8E0URIANF:. 
 
 had careers of as much consequence as that of the re- 
 nowned silver leader. 2vot even John Randolph made 
 in life so deep an impress upon the national history as 
 Richard Parks Bland, the most illustrious of the famous 
 sons of Pocahontas. 
 
 x\ branch (»f the Virginia Blands removed from the 
 ‘‘Old Dominion” early in the nineteenth century, set- 
 tling in Xelson (‘ounty, Kentucky, a county adjoining 
 the county in which the Missouri publicist was born. 
 
 ( )ne of the families settled in tVashington County, 
 where was l)orn Stoughen Edward Bland, the father of 
 Richard Parks. Stoughen Edward Bland was born of 
 Presbytei-ian j)aj-entage and was raised in the denom- 
 ination, being educated for the Presbyterian ministry, 
 graduating at Center College, Danville, Kentucky. His 
 health was ])oor, however, and he found the duties of 
 the clergy too arduous for one in his state of health to 
 ])erfonn, so he removed to Hartford in Ohio County, 
 where he began teaching school, which was the only 
 source of his livelihood. He was a man of good edu- 
 cation, high moral attainments, and esteemed in the 
 pioneer days of Ohio County as an exceptionally up- 
 right man. 
 
 In Hartford he met Margaret Parks Kali, whom he 
 married later. She was of a family of French Hu- 
 guenots, which had emigrated from Louisiana into 
 Kentucky, near the close of the last century. Her 
 middle Tifune of pgrks, qfterwnnl imuiorthlij;e4 Ip Rich- 
 
RICHARD r. BLAyU. 
 
 105 
 
 art! Parks BUuid, was given her by her parents aftei- 
 the family name of some very intiiiiqte friends of her 
 people — the I’arks family, which had come to Kentucky 
 with the Hanks family, from which came the mother 
 of Abraham Lincoln, Nancy Hanks. They had come 
 to Kentucky together about the time the Nalls left 
 Louisiana. 
 
 Margaret Parks Nall became the wife of Stonghen 
 Edward Bland, and on Angnst 10, 1S3.5, a son. Eichard 
 Parks Bland, was born. Other children to the union 
 were Charles Clelland, boni February 0. 1837, now 
 judge of the ('onid of Appeals of the Eastern District 
 of Missouri; and Elizabeth, now the wife of Fred M. 
 Tetley, and a resident of Bonne Terre, Missouri. 
 
 The father taught school at Hartford for two or 
 Ihree years successfully ; then, upon the advice of a 
 phvsician, he abandoned the S(diool-room and bought a 
 farm several miles fi (»m Hartfoi d, on what was known 
 as Bough Creek. Here he built and o])erated foi- some 
 years a grist-mill, known then and yet as “Bland's 
 Mill,” to which the faiiners, from all around through 
 the then sparsely settled country, came with their corn 
 and grain. In 1812 he died of consumption, and the 
 children were scattei-ed among the relatives of theii' 
 mother. 
 
 Mrs. Bland a few years later married a second time, 
 but did not survive her second marriage long. She and 
 Ijer nmtlier, Mrs. Nall, with whmn RichaiM luui gonp tp 
 
106 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 live at the time of liis father’s death, were stricken in 
 an epidemic of tj^phoid fever, and died in December, 
 1849. 
 
 Young Richard was thus, at the age of fourteen, 
 thrown iii)on his own resources. His time had always 
 been spent industriously, and now his industry was 
 sliniulated. In these boyhood days he was of a Ih-ight, 
 cheerful nature, fond of athletic sports, eager for new 
 scenes and adventures, alert in observation, and sharp 
 and keen in perception; a careful, painstaking student, 
 burning midnight oil with the pei'severance that suc- 
 ceeds and which has characterized so many of the 
 woi'ld’s greatest men in youth. 
 
 II e was known to his father's friends and neighbors 
 as one of the brightest, most prondsing boys of the 
 neighborhood, and was universally accorded respect be- 
 yond his years’ due. He acquired what education he 
 secured after his father’s death by dint of his own 
 effort and by the most studious industry. In the sum- 
 mer months he found it irecessary to work upon neigh- 
 boring farms, ordinarily receiving not more than six or 
 seven dollars each month, with board, for his services. 
 At an early age he began teaching school in Ohio Coun- 
 ty, at intervals attending school at Hartford in the 
 Academy which his father had founded. After a feAV 
 months he i-eceived a teacher's diploma at Hartford, 
 from which time until his removal to Missouri he 
 (aught sclurol with fair success, at one time teaching in 
 Hartford A cademy. 
 
KICJIAJW 1\ BLAND. 
 
 107 
 
 .Vu aunt of whom he was very fond, a sister of his 
 motlier, wiio had moved fo Missouri in lier early life, 
 was then married to Robert Fulton, and living in Ar- 
 cadia, Iron County, Missouri, where also were his 
 brother, Charles, and sister, Elizabeth. The brother 
 had moved there in 1850. The aunt wrote to her 
 nephew in Kentucky, suggesting a removal to Missouri, 
 and the latter decided to cast off the many ties which 
 he had formed in his native State and did remove to 
 Missouri. For several months he taught school in 
 W'ayne County, Missouri. 
 
 In 1850 ihe aunt and uncle decided to go to Cali- 
 foi'nia, a name then as much gilded in the public eye as 
 in the days of the gold-seekers of ’49 and ’54. The 
 young nephew was invited to accompany them, which 
 he did. lie had a great attachment for his aunt and 
 the Fulton family, and this attachment had probably 
 as much to do with his removal to the West as his 
 natural desire to better his financial condition. 
 
 llis subsequent residence in the West may be re- 
 garded as one of the most important phases of his entire 
 life, in A’iew of the capacity' in which he figured most 
 conspicuously in later years. It was here that he 
 gathered no small part of the information along the 
 lines of ndiiing and coinage which served him so well 
 as chairman of the House Committee on Mines and 
 ilining, and which assisted him in making this com- 
 mittee one of the most important branches of the legis- 
 
108 
 
 FIVE FAMOUE MJESOI'EIAXE. 
 
 lalive (lepaituianr of the Federal Govenimeul, and 
 made its acts and discnssioiis to become leading parts 
 of the hisfoi-y of American finance. It was here that 
 he obtained the nnclens of the great fninS of knowledge 
 of monetary matters which later made him an author- 
 ity S('c(tnd to none of his contem]M»raiies. Ilis writings 
 and sjieeches along these lines will thereby go down 
 into economic history as classics of tludr kind. 
 
 It is wisely claimed that in every man's life there 
 can l>e fonnd, upon analyzing the career with care, a 
 series of environments, corres]»ondence with which has 
 more to do than any other circnmstance or series of 
 cii'cnmstances in develoihng the man, his character, 
 ideas, and persmial dis}H)sition. Each life seems to ])os- 
 st*ss a jiivoral ]teriod, upon the changing scenes of which 
 the coni'se of the lib" vec'cs, and daring which lasting 
 imjiressions are mad(". In Bland's life, his great jaomi- 
 nence in political agitation and in economic annals can. 
 almost with certainty, be attributed to the fruit of his 
 observations in the \^'est more* than to anything else. 
 
 llei(‘, in a growing country, surrounded by natural 
 wealth iiutold, h(‘ learned the great lesson taught by 
 Nature in her own jilenitude; a lesson which he after 
 wards unfolded in staunchly claiming that the greatest 
 good for the common people lay in the liberal utiliza- 
 tion of Nature’s own provisions for commerce. Here it 
 was that he learned the mechanical details of mintage 
 iuid coinage*, which enabled him to develop the keen 
 
RICHARD F. BLAND. 
 
 109 
 
 discenmient that characterized the chairinan of tiie 
 House Committee on Mines and Mining when lie noted 
 the far-reacliing effect of something the great mass of 
 the American people had overlooked — the dropping of 
 the silver dollar in the authority for coinage, given in a 
 revision of the mint laws. Hero he began, by the light 
 of the miner’s lamp, in the deserts of the Sierras, to 
 search for the causes of the stability of monetary 
 values; here, in the crude text-book of experience, he 
 studied the rudiments of the science of metallic value, 
 and saw the source of the stream of wealth, which, 
 poured into commerce’s veins, gives the great body life, 
 and lends vigor to exchange. 
 
 The mountains and mining camps of the far West 
 in early days were the training schools of Kichai-d 
 Parks Bland, the publicist, whose views on monetary 
 matters have been instilled into the national life, and 
 have become part of political history. 
 
 After arriving in California, Bland and his uncle 
 worked at mining and prospecting for gold a short 
 time together. Fulton soon succumbed to the unsalu- 
 tary conditions of the country and died, leaving his 
 wife and three small boys in the care of his nephew. 
 Mrs. Fulton did not long survive her husband and soon 
 followed him to the grave; Richard Bland being left 
 to care for his three little cousins, whom fortune had 
 thrown into his none too strong hands. 
 
110 
 
 FIVP] FAMOUS MI8S0UJMANS. 
 
 He continued to mine with only indifferent success, 
 while caring assiduously for his infant charges. Feel- 
 ing the burdens of this sort of life greatly, he communi- 
 cated concerning the conditions with an uncle, in Mis- 
 souri, who provided means and transportation for the 
 young Fultons, upon which provision the boys were 
 placed aboard a steamer bound for New Orleans and 
 started for Missouri. The ship, however, met a melan- 
 clioly fate and two of the boys went down into the 
 deplhs of a watery grave, one only, George Fulton, be- 
 ing saved from the wreck of the ship. He returned, 
 and, after his marriage in later years, settled in Penn- 
 sylvania. 
 
 Young Bland, now left alone upon his own resour- 
 ces, drifted from place to place in the role of a miner. 
 The various districts of the territories wherein mining 
 operations were progressing were visited by him, but 
 with no success. He finally went to Lower California, 
 and from there to Virginia City, in what is now the 
 State of Nevada. 
 
 Near Virginia City he located a claim, which in all 
 probability would have made him a millionaire had he 
 stayed and worked it. He gave up disheartened, how 
 e\er, after having no success at all in his operations, 
 and abandoned the claim, locating in Virginia City. 
 
 In after years the world-famed Comstock Lode was 
 discovered less than one hundred yards from Bland’s 
 old claim. It was a narrow slip from out of a fortune, 
 
RIOBARD P. BLAND. 
 
 Ill 
 
 but bis abandonment of the claim changed the current 
 of his life. He ceased thenceforth to be a seeker for 
 gold, and chose a profession, in pursuit of which he 
 afterward left the West and returned to Missouri. 
 
 When Mr. Bland removed to Virginia City, he took 
 up the study of law, which was mainly prosecuted in 
 the office of B. B. Mayes, at that place. During his 
 residence there he filled his first office — in fact, the only 
 one he ever held outside of his services in Congress. In 
 1860 he was made county treasurer of Carson County, 
 Utah, what is now the State of Nevada, which office he 
 held until the organization of the Territory of Nevada. 
 
 The studies requisite to preparation for the legal 
 profession were simultaneous, on Mr. Bland’s part, with 
 terms of school-teaching at frontier school-houses, and 
 such other employment as he could find available to 
 assist him in the struggle for existence. He was ad- 
 mitted to the bar in 1860, in the United States District 
 Court of Utah Territory, at Carson City, with William 
 M. Stewart, later United States senator from Nevada, 
 as one of the examiners. 
 
 About this time he joined the Nevada militia and 
 fought Indians awhile. In 1860 the Piutes rose in mur- 
 derous throngs 'and became so objectionable that a vol- 
 unteer company was sent from Virginia City and 
 met the Indians at Pyramid Lake, leaving the bones 
 of the greater part of the militiamen bleaching on the 
 plains, only a few returning to tell the story, which has 
 
 — 8 — 
 
112 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURI AlTS. 
 
 SO aiany coiiuterpaits in pioneer annals. Mr. Eland 
 entered a volnnteer company' sent Avitli California Reg 
 ulars from a. fort built at Alrginia City, called Fort 
 Churchill. They marched upon the Indians at Pyramid 
 Lake, the scene of the former bloody struggles between 
 the militiameji and the Indians. After a few days of 
 skirmishing, during which the soldiers subsisted upon 
 raw meat alone without seasoning, the Indians con- 
 sented to a treaty of peace, and the soldiers returned to 
 their homes. 
 
 Mr. Bland was the recipient of a bullet-shot in this 
 series of Indian skirmishes, which left a scar just below 
 his right knee-cap, marking the place through life. 
 
 This was Mr. Bland’s only ‘‘war record.” In the 
 year of these Indian conflicts the strife in the Eastern 
 and Southern States was just l)eginning to assume 
 Ihreatening proportions, but those who were on the 
 AA'estern side of the great plains were so isolated from 
 the scenes of the controA^ersies that they A\mre not par- 
 ticipants in the greater part of the prejudices and ex- 
 citement of the time. The line of division between the 
 Lbiionist and the Confederate in the AVest was drawn, 
 Avhen at all, only upon a basis of sympathy. 
 
 The part which Mr. Bland took in the years which 
 succeeded the Rebellion was extremely fitting, in Anew 
 of Ihe unprejudiced ])Osition he filled in the bellicose 
 days of stHdional strife. It is noticeable throughout 
 his eirlire ])ublic career that the issues of the Avar grow- 
 
RICHARD P. BLAYD. 
 
 113 ' 
 
 iug' out of the seetiouaJ diyisions were dwarfed and 
 overshadowed as Richard Parks Bland approached the 
 zenith of his fame and the height of hi« influence. He 
 brought new questions which assisted greatly in the 
 economic re-alignment of the Amencan people with re- 
 gard to other premises than those of the Rebellion. 
 
 Bland was a type of men who serve a patriotic pur- 
 Iiose, as neutralizers between sectional enemies, left as 
 the inevitable results of civil dissension. His life then 
 was conspicuously free from the prejudicial influences 
 of the days of the war, which might have altered and 
 detracted from his usefulness had this part of his life 
 not been spent in the West. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 EAELY PROFESSIONAL CAREER.— ELECTION 
 TO CONGRESS.— EARLY WORK IN BE- 
 HALF OF SILVER.— A FAMOUS 
 DEBATE. 
 
 For six years after liis admission to the bar, Mr. 
 Itlaml continued a resident of the Territory (later the 
 State) of Nevada, practicing law and teaching school, 
 until the year after the close of the War of the Rebel- 
 lion, 18'6G, when he concluded to return to Missouri, 
 which he did in the fall of ’G6, spending a month in the 
 citj' of St. Louis. December 1, 18GG, he entered the office 
 of his l)rother, C. C. Bland, at Rolla, Mo., whither the 
 latter had preceded him and was then enjoying a good 
 ]»ractice. They then entered into par-tnership, and until 
 the removal of the elder brother to Lebanon, Laclede 
 County, this association continued. 
 
 The firm of Bland & Bland achieved considerable 
 success in the practice of law. It was engaged in most 
 of the important litigation in Phelps and adjoining 
 comities. One of the most notable cases in which the 
 I wo lir others were retained was “Phelps County against 
 E. M. Bishop," which had been brought against Bishop 
 (o test the validity of funding bonds issued by the 
 county to Bishop. Three successive suits of this char- 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 115 
 
 acter were brought, iuvolviug large amounts of the 
 county bonds. Bland & Bland represented Bishop in 
 all the cases, coming out victorious in each. 
 
 The practice of Bland & Bland grew steadily dur- 
 ing the time of the co-partnershij>. It gained for the 
 members of the firm wide reputations as being among 
 the ablest lawyers in that portion of the country. They 
 were victorious in the most important of their 
 cases and gained standing at the l)ar as successful 
 practitioners. 
 
 A murder case of extraordinary interest, locally, ad- 
 ded much to the reputation of the firm, particularly to 
 that of the elder member of it, Bichard P. Bland. 
 “State against Morgan,” the title of the cause, oc- 
 casioned a good deal of local feeling, and was most in 
 teresting in detail. The Blands were engaged in the 
 defense and fought a long, hard fight. The prosecution 
 made an unusually desperate effort to convict, while 
 the trial judge was plainly in sympathy with the prose- 
 cution and used his powers unsparingly to secure o con- 
 viction. R. P. Bland, the senior member of the firm 
 of brothers, was the leading attorney for the defendant, 
 and conducted the case almost entirely alone. He con- 
 tended faithfully for the client’s cause, standing for 
 him staunchly when the prospects for conviction wei e 
 strongest. Even the evidence was conducive to th * 
 intensifying of the prevailing prejudices against the 
 def^dant. 
 
116 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 ^Vllen the time came for Mr. Bland to make his 
 closiiijj; speech in behalf of Morgan, the jury seemed to 
 symjtathize with (he prosecution, and the crowds in the 
 court -I'oom were bitter against the defendant. Mr. 
 Bland arose, began a calm, unimpassioned argument 
 ill his client's behalf, and the tide began to turn. He 
 made in this coui-t-room one of the most forceful, effect- 
 ive, logical, and eloquent speeches he ever delivered, 
 and when he had tinished, the popular feeling was 
 changed, and the jury brought in a verdict of acquittal, 
 the whole case having proved to be a test of Mr. Bland's 
 powers as a trial lawyer, and then people began to talk 
 about his ability. 
 
 His practice extended over several counties, and was 
 conducted with success until 18t>9, when he terminated 
 his partnership with his brother and moved to Lebanon, 
 the county seat of Laclede County, on the Atlantic & 
 Pacitic Kailroad, farther southwest of Kolia. Here he 
 began the building of the reputation of a lifetime. 
 
 His removal was with the simplicity which char- 
 acterized his life. He opened a. law office in the county 
 seat of Laclede County with no eclat, sought no adver- 
 tisement, asked for no favors, strived for no conspicu- 
 ousness, even in local affairs, seldom spoke at public 
 gatherings, simply settled down in his little office, 
 which he retained for years, and pondered over statu- 
 tory and judicial law from dawn until twilight. 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 117 
 
 A little circle of sympatliizers with his known politi- 
 cal views sought him out, and soon became fast friends 
 of his. This coterie of friends and admirers was small 
 and comprised men in kind with himself. They devel- 
 ojied the greatest admiration for him and his personal 
 eliaracter. 
 
 At that time, ilr. Bland, as ordinarily, stood far 
 in advance of his contemporaries, for he had never fos- 
 tered the growth of a bitter spirit of partisanship within 
 himself, althongh he was staunchly Democratic in the 
 light of then-existent issues. He was likewise outside 
 the jiale of those who were intensely absorbed in sec- 
 tional prejudices so rife at that period. Thei efore, his 
 position was nnitpie, since he stood among a few who 
 could think for themselves without being deterred by 
 the associations of the Civil War. 
 
 However, he had nothing in common with any ad 
 miuistrative or legislative measure depriving or tend- 
 ing to deprive any .American citizen of vested rights, so 
 his sympathies were naturally with the prominent 
 Democrats, who were subjected to the tyranny of Ee- 
 publican boards of registration. He made many suc- 
 cessful defenses of leading Democratic citizens in the 
 courts of Pheljts, Laclede, and adjoining counties and 
 before the boards of registration. 
 
 Bland's inherent nature did not jiermit him to falter 
 in The assertion of conviction, hence his boldness and 
 fearlessness in his exposures and denunciations of the 
 
1]8 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 nefarious methods then resorted to by Republican 
 office-holders to disfranchise and oppress Democrats 
 were teri-ifying to the opposition, and sources of dis- 
 comfiture to those of the Republicans who were most 
 radical in their abuse and oppression of the Democratic 
 voter. At the same time, the trials through which the 
 Democi ats of that section passed in those days strength- 
 ened their appreciation of a powerful friend, and when 
 Dland came more than once to the bold, fearless defense 
 of their privileges, they grew to know him as a strong, 
 safe, fearless, and trustworthy leader. He was en- 
 deared to many because of his action in cases of per- 
 sonal persecution, this endearment spreading until he 
 became one of the most prominent figures before the 
 people of that district of Missouri. 
 
 However, throughout the time in which Bland lived 
 in private life in Lebanon before his election to Con- 
 gress, his modesty and retiring disposition were sources 
 of some regret to the more eager of his friends, who 
 longed to push him into greater prominence and high 
 places in the ranks of the party. He displayed strong 
 disinclination toward assuming the role so many of his 
 friends sought to force upon him; apparently he had no 
 desire save to make a success of his profession, in 
 fiirtiierance of which desire he spent his time in study 
 and careful preparation. He soon became recognized in 
 the counties in which he had an acquaintance worthy 
 of count, as a conservative, thoughtful, and conscien- 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 119 
 
 tious advocate at the bar; a lawyer of ability, perse- 
 verance, and determination. This recognition came de- 
 spite Mr. Bland’s unobtrusive manners, and was purely 
 the result of general observation of the man. It is 
 noticeable that the fame and honors he received in life 
 were all forthcoming because of a recognition of ability, 
 without any personal advertising or the organization of 
 a press bureau. 
 
 The campaign of 1872 came on and partisan rivalry 
 was great. The interest in the campaign began very 
 early, and the friends of Mr. Bland, aijpreciating his 
 ability and sterling integrity, were anxious that he 
 should run for Congress, in what was then the Fifth 
 District. 
 
 This district, as then constituted, was a veritable 
 empire, comprising Laclede, Pulaski, Phelps, Crawford, 
 Franklin, Jefferson, Dent, Texas, Wright, Ozark, Doug- 
 lass, Howell, Shaimon, and Oregon Counties, and only 
 two county seats in the entire district could at that 
 time be reached by railroad. 
 
 Bland’s acquaintance in the majority of the covinties 
 of the district was very slight, he being scarcely known 
 at all in certain of the counties, and, not having any 
 ambition to become a congressman, he scoffed at the 
 enthusiasm displayed by his friends. He did not be- 
 lieve he could be nominated, and, in the second place, 
 the election of one of his political faith was very doubt- 
 ful, as the Republican nominee had been elected in 1870 
 by over 4,000 majority. 
 
120 
 
 FiVE /'■1J/OC7S' MISSOURI AES. 
 
 The eiithiisiasi ic fneiids persisted, however, iu their 
 pleadings and iirgings, but only in vain. At last a 
 foreefnl Irishman, Harrison Attaway, prominent in 
 Democratic- jtolilics in Laclede Comity, ‘‘stole a march" 
 on the fill m e congressman and got Bland’s name before 
 I he ]>eople in snch a way that he could not very well 
 longer refuse. 
 
 In ihe midst of the discussion of Bland’s proposed 
 candidacy. Bland and the editor of the local paper at 
 Lelianon went away from Lebanon, going to Dallas 
 County to attend court, intending to be gone for about 
 a. fortnight. A bl ight young newspaper man, the local 
 editor, was left at home to get out the paper in the ab- 
 sence of the chief. ..Attaway, a short while before the 
 I'aper went to press, during the tirst week of Bland’s 
 absence, i-ushed into the office of the iiajier and present- 
 ed a strongly-framed and skillfully-written article nom- 
 inating Kichard Barks Bland for Congrc^ss. The local 
 editor was induced to open the forms, already locked 
 and ready for ])i-ess, and insert the editorial, which 
 came out and brought Bland’s name ]iromineutly before 
 the peojile of the district as Laclcffie County’s candidate 
 for Congress. 
 
 t\'hen Mr. Bland came home, he again objected vig- 
 oiously, but iinally consented to the use of his name 
 in what he deemed a hojteless race. He wrote to his 
 brother at Kolia, however, before consenting, and urged 
 him to become a candidate, saying, “I do not think I 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 121 
 
 can secure tlie uoiniuatioii, even if I wanted id, so would 
 like to see yon win.'’ The brother refused to consider 
 the idea and joined in urging Mr. llland to become a 
 candidate. 
 
 The district was so strongly Kei)ublican that the 
 contest for the Democratic m»mination would liave had 
 little of interest in it had it not been for the fact that 
 there were several thousand Liberal Kepublicans, 
 whose assistance was counted upon in defeating tln^ 
 regular Republican nominee and in the election of the 
 Democratic nominee. Hon. E. A. Seay of Phelps, T. 'W'. 
 Crews of Franklin, John Hyer of Dent, and Moi-se of 
 Jett'erson County, were all candidates l)efore the liemo- 
 crats of the district, but the race was first conceded to 
 be between Bland of Laclede and CreAvs of Franklin. 
 Seay was a popular candidate, hoAvever, as he had re- 
 sided in the district from boj'hood, and had, for ovm- 
 twenty years, practiced law in all parts of .the district, 
 and was able, adroit, and personall.v very popular. 
 
 When the convention met at St. James, in rhelj)S 
 County, it was found that some of the counties had both 
 Democratic and Liberal delegations awaiting admis- 
 sion into the convention, the latter demanding seats 
 and votes. After a heated controvers.y, l»ecause of fear 
 of losing the supjiort of the Liberals in the general elec- 
 tion, the delegates Avere admitted to seats. The Liberal 
 delegates wei“e all for Seay, and it was at once assumed 
 
122 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 that their admission would residt in strengthenins: 
 Seay’s candidacy". 
 
 Another question came up before the convention 
 which had largely to do with the final action of the 
 convention. It was the right of a proxy in the conven- 
 tion to represent and cast the full vote of two counties, 
 when neither of the counties had resident delegjites 
 present. The proxy held duly executed and formal cre- 
 dentials, hut was not a resident of either county for 
 which he held proxy. After a spirited contest, The con- 
 vention admitted the proxy to full rights, and, as both 
 counties had instructed for Bland, this added material- 
 ly to his strength. Discontent was manifested at this 
 action, which permitted a delegate to sit and vote in the 
 convention representing counties in which he did noi 
 reside. 
 
 Bland heard of this discontent, and, with wondrous 
 magnanimity, sent for Ihe proxy, directing him to ap- 
 j^ear before the convention and move a reconsideration 
 of the vote whereby he was authorized to represent tin* 
 counties for which he held ])roxies. Mr. Bland said; 
 “State that I requested you to do it, and tell the conven- 
 tion that I do not want to succeed or secure this nomi- 
 nation by any means subject to the least objection as 
 to fairness.'’ 
 
 The proxy did so, tr> the complete amazement of tin' 
 convention, and the action he had requested was taken. 
 By Bland’s magnanimous settlement of a question bid 
 
niCHAlW P. BLAND. 123 
 
 diug fair to create lack of harmony, he lost the votes of 
 these two counties and won the nomination. The con- 
 vention deliberated only a short while. They were so 
 impressed with the character of the man who had 
 scorned to profit by a political trick that they made 
 him their candidate for Congress. His nomination was 
 a surprise to his opponents, but was eminently satisfac- 
 tory to the strongest and ablest men of the party, who 
 went to work and traveled the great district over at 
 their own expense in Bland’s interest and never ceased 
 their efforts until they had defeated Colonel A. J. Seay, 
 who was afterward Governor of Oklahoma Territory 
 under President Harrison, in a district nominally R(>- 
 publican, Mr. Bland’s majority being 800. 
 
 In 1873, the year following his election to Congress, 
 Mr. Bland was married to Miss Virginia "Elizabeth 
 Mitchell, daughter of General E. Y. Mitchell, of Eolla, 
 Mo. He had first met Miss Mitchell the mouth of his 
 return from the West, had loved her, had proposed mar- 
 riage to her, and won the consent of her father. The 
 union of Mr. Bland and Miss Mitchell was richly blessed 
 and proved to be one of the happiest conceivable. 
 
 The House of the Forty-third Congress, to which 
 Richard Parks Bland was elected, was the last Repub- 
 lican House of Representatives for several years. It 
 was presided over by James G. Blaine and met in the 
 most exciting sessions held in the ten years immediate- 
 ly following the close of the Rebellion. The Forty-third 
 
124 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Coiiffrt'ss became infamous in history under the name 
 of tlie “Halarj-grab” and “Back-i)ay’' Congress. The 
 members not only increased their own salaries to 
 |7,500 a year, but also, at the very close of the session, 
 voted themselves back pay of $5,000, making the salary- 
 grab retroactive. 
 
 Two of the most memorable discussions of issues 
 growing out of the Civil War occurred in this Congress. 
 The famous Civil Bights Bill was discussed with more 
 than ordinary tire on the ])a.rt of the legislators. The 
 Senate (Oiamber rang with the elocpient and fierv de- 
 nunciations of “Southern policies and Southern intimi- 
 dation,” by nieii like Logan, Conkling, Oglesby, and 
 Hannibal Hamlin, while “Old Roman” Thurman’s 
 X)leading voice, with the stern logic of Carl Schurz and 
 the words of the Reconstruction senators, half plead- 
 ing and half deflant, were heard from the other side of 
 the Chamber. 
 
 The personnel of the House in which Bland served 
 his first term included men whose names are insepa 
 rably linked with the history of the time; George F. 
 Hoar and Benjamin F. Butler, of Massachusetts; James 
 G. Blaine and Eugene Hale, of Maine; “Sunset” Cox, 
 of New York; S. J. Randall and W. I). Kelly, of Penn 
 sylvania; Lucius (J. C. Lamar, of Mississippi; and 
 score's more of tlu* nation's foremost men sat in this 
 Congress, in which Mr. Bland, at the age o*f forty-three, 
 began his congressional career, -which extends, broken 
 
RICHARD P. BLARD. 
 
 125 
 
 ouly for two years, from that time to his death, June 15, 
 1899. 
 
 The Missouri delegation in this session comprised 
 Edwin O. Staunard, Erastus Wells, William H. Stone, 
 Ifobert A. Hatcher, Aylett H. Buckner, Thomas T. 
 Crittenden, x^bram Comingo, Isaac C. Parker, Ira B. 
 Hyde, John B. Clark, Jr., and Mr. Bland. 
 
 During the first session of this Congress the bill for 
 the increase of the greenback circulation from about 
 fJ75,000,0()0 to 1100,000,009 was passed by the House 
 and the Senate and vetoed by President Grant. Mr. 
 Bland made several speeches in advocacy of this in- 
 crease or “expansion” of the currency, as it was called. 
 He opposed, in this session and in this debate on the 
 “currency expansion" bill, the national-banking sys- 
 tem, which he bitterly antagonized throughout his life. 
 These speeches on the financial questions of the period 
 were the first of any length made by him in Congress. 
 
 Mr. Bland was accorded a high position in this Con- 
 gress as a man of free thought and independent action. 
 His bold and open fight upon an iniquitous banking 
 system was begun in this session, and many of his col- 
 leagues date the beginning of their consideration of 
 these questions from the speeches made by Bland. He 
 introduced into this Congress a number of important 
 measures concerning the currency and national bank 
 issues, relating to “greenbacks,” or legal-tender notes, 
 and also some important measures concerning the 
 
1-26 
 
 PIVlil FAM0V8 MI880V1UAN8. 
 
 tariff, in relation to which his whole career has an 
 interesting bearing. 
 
 Mr. Bland opposed the “salary-grab” and “back- 
 pay” measures as vigorously as the promoters of these 
 schemes would permit, they controlling the House and 
 debate upon these questions. After the bills were 
 passed. Bland was presented a warrant for |5,000, 
 drawn in pursuance of these infamous measures; how- 
 ever, he refused to accept it and the warrant was put 
 to his credit in the United States Treasury, but was 
 never drawn by him. He was the only member of the 
 House of Representatives who finally failed to accept 
 this money. A number refused to take the warrants at 
 the time, but before the requisite year had expired the 
 last of them had di’awn the money. 
 
 In the campaign of 1874, Mr. Bland was again op- 
 posed by Colonel Seay in the same district, being 
 re-elected by a majority of 2,.500. This was the second 
 victory Avon by him in this Republican district, and 
 never again, until 1894, did he fail to receive a comfort- 
 able majority. 
 
 The House of the Forty-fourth Congress was the 
 first Democratic House of Representatives after the 
 Civil War. 1874 had proven a year for Democratic 
 triumphs everywhere, the unsavory record of the last 
 Republican Congress being lai'gely responsible for the 
 defeats which overtook the party in 1874. The sitting 
 of this Congress is one of the most momentous events 
 
RIG HARD P. BLAND. 
 
 127 
 
 in economic history, for it was here that the prelim- 
 inary skirmishes in the “battle of the standards” were 
 witnessed. A warfare was begun by Eichai’d Pai*ks 
 Bland in this Congress, which stretches over three dec- 
 ades following, and “is not yet terminated. A new is- 
 sue was raised in the first session of this Congress, 
 which has been responsible in its fullest development 
 for the re-alignment of the American people, for a di- 
 vision upon a new line. The study and discussion 
 which follows in the trail of this Congress touches 
 every fireside in the land, and is responsible for the de- 
 velopment of a higher standard of general intelligence 
 upon financial questions than exists in any other 
 country on the globe. 
 
 It was in this session that the full meaning of the 
 revision of the coinage laws, made in 1873, was dis- 
 covered. It was openly charged in the Halls of Con- 
 gress that there was then no authority for the coinage 
 of silver dollars. The declaration occasioned great 
 astonishment among the most of the members, many 
 of whom had unwittingly voted for the measure which 
 changed the monetary standard of the United States. 
 
 Speaker Kerr, who was from Indiana, appointed 
 Mr. Bland chairman of the House Committee on Mines 
 a.nd Mining. This committee hitherto had never in 
 any way attracted public attention, as the duties per- 
 formed by it up to that time had been exclusively con- 
 fined to detail and largely to private claims in relation 
 —9— 
 
128 
 
 rr\Ui FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 to mining affaii's. From the hour, however, that 
 Richard Parks Bland became chairman, it took its 
 stand as one of tlie most important committees in the 
 House and became of national consequence because of 
 Ihe momcmtous legislation with which Bland brought 
 it face fo face. 
 
 In Ihe House, Mr. Bland was the first to dwell at 
 any length u])on the fnll ett'ect of the act of ’73. Sen- 
 atoi' Bogy, of Missouri, was the first senator to formal- 
 ly charge that there existed no silver dollar authorized 
 by law. In the discussion of a bill to restore legal- 
 tender (jualities to silver an interesting colloquy took 
 ])lace on March 30, 1'87(J, during the first session of the 
 Forty-Fourth (’ongress, four days liefore Mr. Bland re- 
 ])orted from the ('ommittee on Mines and Mining a bill 
 ])roviding substantially for the free and unlimited coin- 
 age of silvei'. Senator Bogy, in the course of his speecli, 
 charged that the coinage act of 1873 demonetized 
 silvei-. He declared that there was no law fixing the 
 relative Auilue of silver and gold, and no provision for 
 the coinage of the-silver dollar at all. Before Mr. Bogy 
 had completed his speech. Senator Colliding, of New 
 York, arose and asked him a question Avhich indicated 
 the perplexity which prevailed among members of Con- 
 gress and senators in regard to the exact situation. 
 Mr. Conkling asked: “Will the senator allow me to 
 
 ask him or some other senator a (jiiestioii? Is it true 
 Hiat there is now by law no American dollar; and if so, 
 
inVlIAUD F. JiLAND. 
 
 129 
 
 is it true that the elt'ect of this bill is to make half- 
 dollars and (inarter-dollars the only silver coin Avhich 
 can be used as a legal tender?” 
 
 Senator Sherman, bj" this time on his feet, hastened 
 to reply: “I will answer the senator from New York by 
 saying that since the law' of 1853 the use of the silver 
 wdiole dollar has been discontinued and none has been 
 issued. That has been so since 1853.” 
 
 Senator Conkling persisted and again asked: "Is 
 
 there power to issue it?” 
 
 Mr. Sherman replied: "There is no power and has 
 
 been none.” 
 
 Senator Bogy quickly rejoined: "The power existi'd 
 from 1853 to 1873; but since 1873 I think there has been 
 no power.” 
 
 The debate proceeded until Senator Jones, of Nc*- 
 vada., arose and answered Mi-. Sherman's statement 
 that the silver dollar had not been issued from 1853, by 
 saying that silver was at a premium at the then estab- 
 lished rate of gold, and nobody had any inducement to 
 coin silver. “The lawq however,” he said, “authorized 
 the coinage of the silver dollar then, and it w-as never 
 demonetized until February, 1873; but it needed no 
 law- to prevent people from coining such a dollar for 
 use in business, as there w-as another dollar to be got 
 for three or four per cent cheaper.” 
 
 This debate w-as the inception of the tight for silver 
 in the Senate and w-as precipitated by Mr. Bland's col- 
 
nVH FAMOUS mHFOUniA'NH. 
 
 ]3U 
 
 league, Senaloi- IJogT. It elicited much comment. 
 Wednesday moi ning, May .3, 1876, Mr. Bland brought 
 tlie question formally before fhe House, and in realify 
 1) f^re Ihe people, by reporting, as chairman of the Com- 
 mittee on Mines and Mining, a substitute for House 
 Bill No. 2715, a bill (H. R. 3363) to utilize the product 
 of the gold and silver mines of the United States. It 
 was read the first and second times, recommitted and 
 ordered to be printed. June 3d, Mr. Bland reported 
 11. R. 3635 as a substitute for the former bill. 
 
 He made repeated efforts to bring the bill up for 
 consideration, but failed. The opjponeuts were few in 
 number, but so shrewdly dilatory that they put the bill 
 off from lime to time, opposing its advance from step to 
 step. 
 
 On the first day of August, Mr. Bland asked con- 
 sideration for the bill, and to make the situation more 
 critical for the opponents, he had the clerk read com- 
 parative sectiom o1 the ReAused St:\tnt( s of the United 
 States, showing that in 1869 silver Avas recognized as 
 full legal tender, and then, by the provisions of the act 
 of 1873, it was demonetized. Mr. Bland had these sec- 
 tions read for the purpose of refuting the claim made 
 that there existed no extraordinary condition and that 
 the act of 1873 merely pursued the condition prevailing 
 since the passage of the act of ’53. 
 
 August 2d, Mr. Bland again demanded consideration 
 of his bill, declaring: ‘‘The bill that demonetized 
 
EICUARD F. BLAND. 
 
 131 
 
 silver in this country and perpetrated an injustice and 
 fraud upon the people was passed through this House 
 without even being read, in spite of the demand of the 
 honorable gentleman at present serving as Speaker of 
 the House [Mr. Kerr] for the reading of that bill. It 
 was passed surreptitiously and without discussion, and 
 was one of the grossest measures of injustice ever in- 
 llicted upon any people. Now, this bill simply aims to 
 restore the currency of this country which existed at 
 that time; yet we hear objections on this floor, some- 
 times in the form of demands for debate, sometimes in 
 the form of opposition to debate.” 
 
 The country was beginning to feel an interest in the 
 scenes almost daily occurring in the House, in which 
 ]\Ir. Bland was vehemently denouncing the filibustering 
 methods employed to defeat his bill. It seemed ap- 
 parent that if the bill were ever brought before the 
 House, it would pass. 
 
 On August 5th, one of the most exciting days in the 
 history of flnaneial discussions in Congress, Mr. Hale, 
 of Maine, led off with a dilatory plea when the Bland 
 Bill was called up. Mr. Bland arose from his seat and, 
 with the thunderous tones which characterized him 
 when aroused in debate, replied in a manner that oc- 
 casioned one of the most stormy scenes witnessed in 
 file entire session. 
 
 He said: "In answer to the geutb man fi oui Maine, 
 ] wish to say tliftt when tips inJug;tiQe of deinonetizing 
 
13-2 
 
 FIVE FAMOUH MmmV]UAN><. 
 
 silver was i)erpetrated, filibustering was not resorted to. 
 The bill, sir, was not read at tliat desk. Gentlemen who 
 i-ejiresent the money sharks of the country surrepti- 
 tiously carried the bill through without its reading at 
 the clerk’s desk, and I would be pusillanimous indeed 
 to giv(“ u]) because I am threatened with filibuster- 
 ing jierforniances. Let them fililmster and take the 
 conse( juences.’’ 
 
 The House was immediately in an u]>roar; several 
 members clamored for recognition; cries of “Fraud!” 
 wei(‘ heard, as well as here and there the voice of some 
 member seeking to deny Mr. Bland’s statement. 
 Thi-ough it all he stood resolute, and when the bill went 
 over, he manifested no discouragement, but, confident 
 tliat he was backed by a majority of the members of the 
 House, he had no fear in renewing his elforts. 
 
 This scene had scarcely subsided wlien Mr. Cox, of 
 New York, called up Gibson’s resoluiion for the appoinl- 
 iiKuit of the monetary commission, on which Mi’. Bland 
 laler served. In the course of Ihe debate on this sub 
 ject, the (piestions involved in Mr. Bland’s bill were 
 goiH* over. At this time he made his first silver sjieech 
 of any length. Among other things he said: 
 
 “The bill I reported is a measure in the interest of 
 Ihe honest yeomanry of this country. Here is a meas- 
 ure ju’oposing to do justice to whom’.’’ 
 
 “To the toiling millions who are to-day earning their 
 liread jn the s>veni of their fare; it is a meitsnie in the 
 
HI CHARD r. BLAND. 
 
 133 
 
 interests of the poor and eommou people of the country, 
 and hence it excites the ojiposition of these agents of 
 the money sharks in these lobbies, and those who seem 
 to be in their interest upon this floor. Because a meas- 
 ure is for once reported to this Congress, that has with- 
 in it a provision for the welfare of the i)eo]de of the 
 country against the corrupt legislation that has gone 
 on here for the last sixteen years in the interest of the 
 numeyed lords, it is here denounced as full of rascali- 
 ties, and all this by a party that had perpetrated these 
 injustices and brought corruption, fraud, injustice, and 
 dishonor upon the country. 
 
 “The common people cannot come to this capital. 
 They are not here in your lobby. They are at home, 
 following the plow, cultivating the soil, or working in 
 their workshops. It is the silvern and golden slippers 
 of the money kings, the bankers and flnanciers, whose 
 step is heard in the lobbies, and these rule the finances 
 of the country. They aie the men who get access to 
 your committees, and have ruled and controlled the 
 legislation of the country for their own interests. If 
 the constituents of those who are opposing this measun^ 
 could look dowm from the galleries upon them, they 
 would sink in their seats with shame for the course 
 they are jmrsuing, because it is adverse to the interests 
 of their people.” 
 
 Mr. Kasson, of Iowa, in the course of this speech, 
 challenged tlie stateineut that the demouetizatiou l>ill 
 
134 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 was not read at the clerk’s desk upon final passage. 
 This brought out a famous declaration of Mr. Holman, 
 of Indiana, who was renowned in years afterward as 
 the “watch dog of the Treasury.” He asserted that the 
 bill as passed was never read. Mr. Holman declared 
 that he himself had called for the reading of the bill, 
 and that his demand had been evaded. He declared 
 that the bill was passed without knowledge by the 
 House of its provisions, especially upon those relating 
 to matters of coinage. Holman then had extracts read 
 from the Congressional Globe, which proved that the 
 bill was not read. It appeared from the Globe that Mr. 
 Hooper, of Massachusetts, father of the bill, said that 
 the bill was too long and that they had not the time. 
 Mr. Kerr had then stated that he wanted the House to 
 understand that an efi'ort was being made to pass the 
 bill without reading. Hooper had then made a motion 
 to suspend the rales and dispense with the reading of 
 Ihe substitute, which was passed. The reading was 
 Ihus interrupted and never completed. Mr. Holman 
 1 hus vindicated Mr. Bland’s statements, which were be- 
 ginning to be felt deeply by those he antagonized. 
 
 The charges Mr. Bland made were repeated during 
 succeeding sessions, becoming in later years one of the 
 most vital points of contention between Mr. Bland’s fol- 
 lowers and the opposition. However, it is noticeable 
 ihat the rejoinders to the charges were never success- 
 fully^ supported, especially wbe» any member of the 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 135 
 
 House of the Forlj-seconcl Congress, not interested in 
 the disproval of the charge, was present. The farther 
 the years carried the question, the louder became the 
 replies to Mr. Bland’s charges, while the attempts at 
 refutation were but faintly made when he thundered 
 them forth for the first time in July and August, 1870. 
 
 On August 15, 1870, in the midst of the renowned 
 Hayes-Tilden campaign, which had such a stirring 
 termination. Congress adjourned without any action. 
 Early in the second session the bill was passed by the 
 House, and was referred to the Senate Committee on 
 Finance, placed on the calendar, but smothei'ed out of 
 existence by Senator Sherman, who was chairman of 
 that committee. 
 
 Thus ends the history of Mr. Bland’s first attempts 
 to secure the remonetization of silver. From the time 
 the Democratic House passed the Bland bill, in the 
 winter of 1877, the Democratic party stood committed 
 to the position of Mr. Bland, although under un-Demo 
 cratic influences it drifted away from its moorings in 
 the latter years of his life, returning, however, to its 
 original position in 1896, largely by his efforts and the 
 skill of his leadership. 
 
 The fight Mr. Bland waged against the odds of 
 wealth and political i>ower m this session has but one 
 parallel in the history of the American Congress, out- 
 side of Mr. Bland’s later life, and that is found in the 
 iseries of hard fights and renowned forensic and parlia- 
 
136 
 
 FIVK FAMOUS MIFHOVRIAAIF. 
 
 mentary duels with the friends of the United States 
 fhink, conducted by Thomas Hart Benton, the Mis- 
 sourian whose mantle in history properly rests upon 
 Mr. Bland. Benton's tight for the vindication of An 
 di'ew Jackson met the same sort of opposition from the 
 same class of peoide and is akin in history to the war 
 w;iged against legislative injustice by Kichard Parks 
 Bland, the second Missc»urian to tower above all others 
 in coiitempoi aneous history. Benton’s sjieeches were 
 more oi nate, more ])erfect from the rhetorician's stand- 
 point, yet in invective, in force, in ])ower, in bluntness 
 W('ie very much like the efforts of Bland, which as- 
 tounded his o|iponents in debate and made them to fear 
 ids logic. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TILDEN - HAYES COXTROVEHSY. — THE 
 MONETARY COM3IISSION.— BLAND-ALLI- 
 SON ACT.— TARIFF RECORDS.— 
 
 THE SILYER CRT'SADE. 
 
 The campaign of L87(i into which ^Ic. Hland entered 
 spiritedly, becoming a candidate for re-election to Con- 
 gress on the Democratic ticket, was the most exciting 
 campaign of the seventies. The lines were mtt near so 
 closely drawn upon the issues of the Civil tVar, for new 
 questions had arisen and the old political parties were 
 compelled to assert tliemselves thereon. The question 
 of llnaucial policies was not far from the surface in the 
 range of observation, the (tuestion of remonetization 
 entering largely into local campaigns, particularly in 
 ^Vestern congressional fights. A wave of poi)ular sen 
 timent favoring the remonetization measure swept over 
 portions of the country. Mr. Bland brought it for the 
 tir.st time into ^lissouri jtolitics and the begiuuing of a 
 new fight for the white metal was already under way. 
 The interest felt, especially by farmers of the Western 
 and Middle States, was not to be ignored, and the poli- 
 ticians of the period bore it carefully in mind, though 
 apparimtly absorbed in other issues, inyolving partisan 
 and |>ersonal consideriitions. The far-siglited feU that 
 
138 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOI IMANS. 
 
 llie determiiiatiou of Mr. Bland would bring the ques- 
 tion into still greater prominence in future sessions of 
 Congress. He was assuredly fearless and undoubtedly 
 unswerving and was an obstacle in the way of evasion 
 of the question. It was known that he would force it, 
 and immediately after the campaign of ISTti had sub- 
 sided and the excitement had about died away, plans 
 were being laid to compromise with the situation and 
 endeavor to silence the bold, candid member from 
 Missouri. 
 
 The November election, which, it had been vainly 
 hoped, would appease the intense partisan rivalry, in- 
 stead brought one of the most momentous (piestions 
 which ever confronted the American people. The 
 gravest possible situation was faced, while the country 
 was a seething vortex of hatred and partisan clamoring. 
 
 The second session of the Forty-fourth Congress 
 met on December 5, 1870, and great danger was felt 
 would abound in the approaching electoral count. 
 Neither party would consent to allowing a revision of 
 the joint rules governing the count. The House, which 
 was Democratic, feared to permit the Vice-President to 
 open and announce the electoral returns, on account of 
 I he contests in several States, the party leaders fearing 
 that the Vice-President would declare Hayes elected, 
 while the Senate insisted that its right was to open the 
 ballots and announce the result. 
 
RICHARD P. BLARD. 
 
 139 
 
 Amid intense excitement, conferences began be- 
 tween the Repnblicans and Democrats to discuss the 
 situation, and to consider Senator Conkling’s proposed 
 Electoral Commission Bill. The conference resulted 
 favorably to the measure, and it was passed in the 
 Senate by a vote of 47 to 17 ; in the House by a vote of 
 191 to 80. 
 
 Mr. Bland was earnestly and persistently opposed 
 to this compromise measure, and was one of a few 
 Democratic members of the House who ignored the ad- 
 vice of party leaders and voted against the measure. 
 He did so after the Missouri delegation had caucused 
 and decided to support it. 
 
 Mr. Bland’s protests were long and continued dur- 
 ing the discnssion_^of the proposition. He gave as his 
 reasons for this position, first, that the Constitution had 
 reposed upon the Senate and House of Representatives 
 the duty of declaring who had been elected President, 
 and that the Constitution had not given power to Con- 
 gress to delegate this authority to the Supreme Court 
 or any other body on earth. He repeatedly wmrned 
 the Democrats of Congress that the creation of the 
 Electoral Commission would result in cheating Mr. 
 Tilden out of the office of President, to which Mr. Bland 
 believed he had been elected by a majority vote of the 
 people of the United States, in full compliance with 
 and conformity to the terms and provisions of the Con- 
 stitution. Mr. Bland considered the compromise as 
 
140 
 
 /■7 17v’ /''.1.170?7.S' .V/,S'.S'01jT/.lA7s'. 
 
 an iiifaiiious measure, eontroveiiiiig the Constitution 
 itself. H(' ridienled the fears out of wliieh the Coin- 
 inission a.i-ose, and stood firm to tlie end in his opposi- 
 tion to this plan, creating a new bod.y, to wliicli 
 was delegated I lie settlement of a ,(]nestion for the 
 arhil lament of which the Constitution of the Ignited 
 States had jdainly provided. 
 
 During this Congress, the act wdiich authorized the 
 famous Silver Commission was passed, and by virtue 
 of its jirovisions. Senators Jones of Nevada, Ifoutw'ell 
 of .Massachusetts, and Bogy of Missouri, and Represent- 
 atives Bland of Missouri, Cihson of Louisiana., and Wil- 
 lard of Michigan, were a]i]iointed as a commission to 
 make an examination of the silver ipiestion, which was 
 done. iMr. Bland was one of the most active workers 
 on the ( 'ommission and the report is chiefly his work. 
 This report is om* of the most exliaustive reviews of an 
 economic ipiestion ever made hy a commission of Con- 
 gri*ss, and ranks among the highest and best authori- 
 ties on the Ipiestion. 
 
 The report has been translated into almost every 
 civilized tongue and is found in the archives and libra- 
 ries of almost every government on earth. Every eco- 
 nomic student of the period deemed his stock of avail 
 able information incomjdete without a copy of this re- 
 jtoi t, for which there has been such a demand that there 
 is not a, copy to be found for sale, even at exorbitant 
 tigiires, at any ]dace in the world. 
 
mCEATiD P. BLAXI). 
 
 141 
 
 It is one of the undying nionnments to the research 
 of Mr. Bliind, and coinniemorates the great study he 
 made of one of the greatest political questions that 
 ever vexed a congress or a people. 
 
 Mr. Bland had been re-elected to the Fortj’-tifth 
 Congress, in which he renewed his famous tight for the 
 white metal; this session with opposition scarcely so 
 pronounced or so loud. The firm judgment of the people 
 of the country seemed to be that silver should be re- 
 stored to its old place, or at least be re-endowed with 
 legal-tender (jualities; therefore, the inembers of Con- 
 gress were fearful of the people. 
 
 This Congress witnessed scenes in its halls which 
 often rose out of the mists of history to confound cer- 
 tain colleagues of Mr. Bland who in after years de- 
 serted positions they took in this Congress. The House 
 passed the silver bill introduced by Mr. Bland, provid- 
 ing for the free and unlimited coinage of silver. Mr. 
 Bland, with the tidelity to purpose and the persistency 
 which marked his support or opposition all through 
 life, had waged a faithful warfare and was now about 
 to be rewarded with success. The Senate Avas afraid 
 to pass the bill with the free coinage features, so an 
 ainembnent ottered by Senator Allison was adopted. 
 This amendment, Avhile striking out the free coinage 
 provisions of the Bland Bill, provided for the ])urchase 
 of silver bullion in (pmutities not less than f2,0()0,00() 
 and not more than |I, 000,000 a month, to be coined into 
 
142 
 
 nVE FAMOUS MISSOVlllANS. 
 
 silver dollars as fast as purcliased. The bill also re- 
 stored silver’s legal tender powers. It not being pos- 
 sible to secure a better bill at that time,' the House 
 agreed to the amendment, and, so amended, the bill 
 went to the President, who promptly vetoed it. Thus, 
 on the 28th of February, 1878, five years and sixteen 
 days after the demonetization act became a law, the 
 House and Senate passed, over the veto of the Pres- 
 ident, a bill which controverted the provisions of the 
 former law, and the first step was taken toward the re- 
 habilitation of the white metal. It was then the only 
 law on the statutes of the United States providing for 
 the coinage of the silver dollar. 
 
 Up to the time of the repeal of this law, by the 
 Sherman law of 1890, about |400, 000,000 had been 
 coined and added to the currency of the country. The 
 Bland-Allison Act, to which Mr. Bland’s name is given 
 in history, therefore, added to the commerce of the 
 United States fully four-fifths of the metallic money in 
 constant, everyday use by the plain people of the land. 
 Those same silver dollars probably constitute one- 
 third of the gold and silver money in existence in the 
 United States, and, according to the estimates of the 
 Bureau of the Mint, the coinage of the Bland-Allison 
 Act constitutes one-twentieth of the metallic money in 
 existence in the world. 
 
 Mr. Bland will therefore be remembered in history 
 as the author of one of the most successful coinage 
 laws ever operating in the United States. 
 
BIOHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 143 
 
 It would be doing Mr. Bland’s memory an injustice 
 to assume that his fame is chargeable alone to his pur- 
 poseful advocacy of the white metal, though great may 
 be his preeminence on account of the years he spent in 
 the service of the economic idea of bimetallism. It is 
 asserted for a fact that were Mr. Bland’s record on the 
 silver question to be blotted from memory, and his 
 votes and speeches on this subject stricken from the 
 record of his life’s service in Congress, there would still 
 remain* enough of the accomplishments of true states- 
 manship to justify the position he holds in the eyes of 
 the world at the present time. Because of his personal 
 integrity alone, he might be famous, disregarding the 
 application of that spirit of integrity to the silver ques- 
 tion, for the impress such a man as Bland leaves upon 
 the history of his country, by a lifetime spent in its 
 service, is almost beyond the estimation of those who 
 cannot discern the full extent of posterity’s esteem. 
 
 Mr. Bland’s record for usefulness and service on 
 any public question arising during the years he was a 
 member of the American Congress is unsurpassed by 
 any Missourian of this day and generation. 
 
 During the sessions of Congress ensuing after the 
 passage of the Bland-Allison Act, Mr. Bland held his 
 position as a leader among thoughtful men, regardless 
 of the public questions arising. In the Forty-sixth Con- 
 gress his record as one of the best informed advisers 
 and clearest thinkers in the matter of custom duties 
 
 — 10 — 
 
144 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 and tariffs was established, a record which he bore to 
 his death. He made more speeches on the tariff ques- 
 tion while he was in Congress than William R. Morri- 
 son himself, who was known as the most prominent sup- 
 porter of tariff reform. Mr. Bland introduced and ad- 
 vocated during his career more measures affecting the 
 tariff than did Morrison or any of the other conspicuous 
 advocates of tariff reform. 
 
 In the Fiftieth Congress, Roger Q. Mills himself 
 was scarcely more active and prominent in the support 
 of the Mills Bill than Mr. Bland. 
 
 lu the Fifty-first Congress, Mr. Bland’s opposition 
 to the McKinley Bill was pronounced. Toward the 
 close of the famous debate on this bill, Mr. Bland 
 offered an amendment which fairly took away the 
 breath of the Republican members of the House and 
 precipitated one of the most exciting scenes ever wit- 
 nessed during the discussion of a tariff measure. The 
 amendment provided that all articles and goods pur- 
 chased in foreign countries, by the importation to those 
 countries of American farm products, and obtained 
 by exchange for American^ farm products, should be 
 brought into the United States free of duty. When 
 this amendment was offered, the advocates of the bill 
 were seized with consternation when they contem- 
 plated the consequences of the adoption of such an in- 
 nocent-appearing amendment. If the Bland amend- 
 ment should be adopted, they foresaw, it would draw 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 145 
 
 the life out of the entire McKinley Bill and defeat its 
 purposes. 
 
 The organization of the Eepublicans in the Fifty- 
 iirst Congress was thorough, yet in spite of this thor- 
 oughness it required every effort of the Republicans to 
 defeat the amendment. When the roll-call began,- 
 couriers were sent into every part of the capital to 
 bring in absentees; the roll-call was hindered as much 
 as possible by the Republican leaders, who were 
 aroused to the sense of danger the McKinley measure 
 was in; and, when the roll had been completed, and it 
 seemed problematic whether the result was favorable 
 or unfavorable to the amendment, so close was the vote, 
 they delayed the announcement of the result until the 
 absent Republicans could be brought in. At last it 
 was revealed by the announcement of the vote, that the 
 amendment had been defeated by only four or five votes. 
 
 The McKinley tariff law was never in such great 
 danger during the entire debate. 
 
 Mr. Bland was a leader in the fioor of the House on 
 the question of the improvement of Western water- 
 ways. His opinions on this subject were respected and 
 widely quoted. He fought, with that energy which 
 always characterized his opposition, the infamous 
 “Force Bill.” The use of the Federal troops at the 
 polls he always opposed, as well as the government of 
 the American people by the injunctions of the United 
 States Court, which he deemed a perversion of the 
 
146 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 spirit of the Constitution and a violation of popular 
 rights. 
 
 He opposed the passage of the so-called “Civil Serv- 
 ice La'vvs/’ believing them to be un-Democratic and 
 not in accord with the principles of the American 
 government. 
 
 It is noticeable that the life of Mr. Bland has been 
 most fruitful in the acceptance of his principles by the 
 Democratic party, which probably owes more to Bland 
 for its present-day principles than it does to any other 
 man of his time. He stood throughout life so firmly, so 
 faithfully in the support of ideas he promulgated as 
 right and true, that the Democratic party has finally ac- 
 cepted them as inspirations. Mr. Bland s life is re- 
 sponsible largely for the existence of the Democratic 
 party as an organization. 
 
 When he and his supporters in the silver crusade 
 began their work, the Democratic party,' although 
 scarcely one year removed from the greatest victory in 
 its post-bellum history, was demoralized, discouraged, 
 disrupted, and torn asunder with vital differences. Mr. 
 Bland began the renowned fight for the rehabilitation 
 of the Democratic party, and only by taking the firm 
 stand it did and by adopting his views as party prin- 
 ciples did it assume proportions of a great party, after 
 the crushing defeat of 1894. Mr. Bland stood so long 
 upon the ramparts of Jeffersonian Democracy, fighting 
 for its tenets, that at last he forced his party to rally 
 
RICHARD F. BLAND. 
 
 147 
 
 around the standard he had lifted in life, and to return 
 to the fundamental party principles. 
 
 The compromise act of 1878, known as the Bland- 
 Allison Act, did not terminate the fight for the fullest 
 restoration of silver to coinage privileges. It was 
 practically the beginning of attempts at remedial 
 legislation. 
 
 During the years intervening between the Forty- 
 Fifth and Forty-Ninth Congresses, the forces opposing 
 ]\Ir. Bland were organizing, developing a'strength they 
 did not have in 1878. This organization culminated in 
 an effort to repeal the famous act which restored sil- 
 ver’s legal-tender functions. This effort was made in 
 the Foily-niuth Congress, but Mr. Bland and his fol 
 lowers rose supreme to the hour’s emergency and suc- 
 ceeded in defeating these efforts to overthrow the exist- 
 ing ’coinage system. Mr. Bland mustered to his sup- 
 port in this fight over two-thirds of the House of 
 Representatives. 
 
 In 1890, the forces of silver coinage seemed again 
 about to win a final victory, when another compromise 
 measure was brought out. Senator Sherman gave his 
 name to a bill which repealed the Bland-Allison Act 
 and substituted a bill with different provisions, but 
 still authorizing the purchase of silver bullion; instead 
 of for coinage purposes, however, legal-tender silver 
 
148 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIAFS. 
 
 certificates were to be issued, based upon the bullion 
 thus purchased. 
 
 The Sherman Act was unsatisfactory to the advo- 
 cates of free coinage and was condemned by them as a 
 makeshift. Every possible effort was made to secure 
 its I’epeal, by substituting for it a law providing for 
 absolute free-silver coinage. 
 
 The Democratic platform of 1892, upon which 
 Grover Cleveland was elected President of the United 
 States for the second time, denounced the Sherman 
 law and demanded its repeal. This declaration was so 
 framed that, in the eyes of the Eastern advocates of the 
 gold standard, it committed the party to the uncondi- 
 tional repeal of the law, while the greater part of the 
 Western Democracy regarded the declaration as mean- 
 ing that the party would stand firmly for the silver and 
 gold coinage of the Oonstitution. Thus arose a contro- 
 versy which terminated in the drawing of new lines of 
 difference in the Democratic party. 
 
 When the Fifty-third Congress was elected, the 
 question of the repeal of the Sherman law was para- 
 mount. President Cleveland interpreted the demands 
 of the times to be the unconditional repeal of the law. 
 The supporters of his position insisted that the then 
 existing unsettled conditions were due to the distrust 
 of business circles in the workings of the Sherman law. 
 
 An extraordinary session of Congress was called, 
 meeting on August 7, 1'893, at which time President 
 
RIGHARB P. BLAND. 
 
 149 
 
 Cleveland presented Ms message, wliich, embodying 
 his views, declared that the existing unsettled condi- 
 tions and depression in commercial affairs were due to 
 the workings of the silver-purchasing clause of the 
 Sherman Act, which he termed a truce between the ad- 
 vocates of free-silver coinage and “those more conserv- 
 ative."” He asked Congress to repeal this purchasing 
 clause without delay. 
 
 On Thursday, August 11th, Mr. Wilson, of West Vir- 
 ginia, the leader of the Administration forces in the 
 House, presented a bill wMch contained the desired 
 legislative enactments, mentioned by the President. 
 He offered the bill for immediate consideration. Mr. 
 Pland, the recognized leader of the non-partisan advo- 
 cates of free-silver coinage, offered the bill being urged 
 by those differing from the President on the subject. 
 The bill of Mr. Bland pro-snded for the restoration of 
 the coinage system prevailing before 187.3, and re-estab- 
 lished the free coinage of silver. The purchasing 
 clause of the Sherman Act of 1890 was repealed by the 
 provisions of the Bland Bill. 
 
 A plan of debate, formulated by Mr. Bland and 
 agreed upon by the House, contemplated discussion of 
 the subject matter for two weeks. This renowned de- 
 bate began on August 11th, by a speech by Mr. Rayner, 
 of Maryland, in support of the Wilson Bill. On this 
 memorable afternoon Mr. Bland delivered a speech, 
 denominated in the annals of politics as “the parting of 
 
150 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 the ways speech,” because it was the first aflSrmation of 
 the sacrifice of party interest the supporters of free- 
 silver coinage would make in standing for their 
 principles. 
 
 The circumstances which attended this speech de- 
 serve commemoration because of their political signifi- 
 cance. Mr. Bland was just then wearied of the double- 
 dealing manners of some of his colleagues from Mis- 
 souri and other States. He sought to have the lines 
 drawn more clearly between the holders of the two 
 opinions within the Democratic party; hence the em- 
 phatic declarations he made on that occasion. A 
 number of the IMissouri delegation were undecided as 
 to the course to pursue. They were intense partisans, 
 entertaining the highest regard for President Cleve- 
 land, yet knew that their constituency were opposed to 
 Cleveland’s financial views, and they further knew that 
 to pursue Cleveland’s course would mean disaster at 
 home. Mr. Bland was desirous that they should de- 
 clare themselves and cease their halting “between two 
 opinions,” hence the serious, firm manner in which he 
 hurled defiance at the opponents of his conception of 
 Democracy, and spoke without mincing words in de- 
 claring the intention of those of his colleagues who 
 were avowedly with him. 
 
 After dwelling upon the details of the question and 
 making a masterful argument against the proposed 
 course of President Cleveland, he came to the period 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 151 
 
 of his speech dealing with the political phases of the 
 discussion. ' He declared that the sacrifices of popular 
 interests were only to appease English greed, following 
 this with his memorable declarations, from which 
 dates the fight for the capture of the organization of 
 the Democratic party : 
 
 “Will you crush the people of your own land 
 and send them abroad as tramps, will you kill and 
 destroy your own industries and especially the pro- 
 duction of your precious metals that ought to be sent 
 abroad eAmrywhere — will you do this simply to satisfy 
 the greed of Wall Street, the mere agent of Lombard 
 Street in oppressing the people of Europe and of this 
 country? It cannot be done, it shall not be done! 
 I speak for the great masses of the Mississi]>pi Valley, 
 and those west of it, when I say you shall not do it! 
 
 “Any pofitical party that undertakes to-do it will, 
 in God’s name, be trampled, as it ought to be trampled, 
 into the dust of condemnation now and in the future. 
 Speaking as a Democrat, all my life battling for what I 
 conceived to be Democracy and what I conceived to be 
 right, I am yet an American above Democracy. I do 
 not intend, we do not intend, that any party shall sur- 
 vive, if we can help it, that will lay the confiscating 
 hand upon Americans in the interests of England or of 
 Europe. Now mark it. This may be strong language, 
 but heed it. The people mean it, and, my friends of 
 
152 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Eastern Democracy, we bid farewell when you do that 
 thing.” 
 
 The Chamber rang with applause as Mr. Bland con- 
 cluded this earnest protest and challenge. He paused, 
 then uttered the words which more than any others 
 perpetuated the speech in public memory: “Now you 
 
 can take your choice of sustaining England against 
 America, American interests, and American laborers 
 and producers, or you can go out of power. We have 
 come to the parting of the ways. I do not pretend to 
 speak for anybody but myself and my constituents, but 
 I believe that I do speak for the great masses of the 
 great Mississippi Valley when I say that we will not 
 submit to the domination of any political party, how- 
 ever much we may love it, that lays the sacrificing hand 
 upon silver and will demonetize it in this country.” 
 
 From the hour of this speech the wavering con- 
 gressmen took firm stands upon the question, at least 
 until the conclusion of the debate, for every Demo- 
 cratic member of the Missouri delegation voted with 
 Mr, Bland on the final issue, although in after years 
 certain of them drifted from his standard and as a re- 
 sult lost all political infiuence they ever possessed and 
 died ignominious political deaths. It was not long, 
 however, before they witnessed the reformation of the 
 Democratic party along the lines Mr. Bland indicated 
 in his famous speech. They all lived, also, to see the 
 day when the great silver champion passed away. 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 153 
 
 moiirued as the source of established Democratic 
 doctrines by every American Democrat. 
 
 “The parting of the ways” became a slogan of free- 
 silver Democrats in this debate. Senator Vest took 
 up the phrase in a speech in the Senate on August 14th, 
 and the country was brought to realize that a great po- 
 litical party was confronted by a crisis in which it was 
 sorely and seemingly hopelessly divided. The party, 
 however, emerged finally with the field of the battle 
 strewn with the remnants of the vaunted claims of 
 leaders who sought to foist an un-Democratic principle 
 upon the party, whei’eby these leaders were shown that 
 there was firm, invincible, unconquerable determina- 
 tion back of the men who pointed out “the parting of 
 the ways.” 
 
 The famous discussion of the extra session term- 
 inated with a Auctory for the gold-standard forces, an 
 unconditional repeal bill being passed by the House 
 and Senate. The Administration used its powers uu 
 ceasingly to secure this result, and was successful. 
 
 Congress later passed a bill, of which Mr. Bland 
 was the author, which provided for the coinage of the 
 seignorage on the silver purchased under the workings 
 of the Sherman law, but President Cleveland vetoed it, 
 and the silver forces were not sufliciently strong to 
 carry it over the executive veto. 
 
154 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 During the closing days of the Fifty-third Congress 
 the silver Democrats of Congress, comprising Mr. 
 Bland, Mr. Bryan, and others in both the House and 
 Senate, issued an address to the American people, urg- 
 ing the money question as the paramount issue of 1896. 
 This address was the outcome of a conference of the 
 silver leaders and was a consequential factor in the 
 subsequent events, having relations with the question 
 of silver’s restoration. 
 
 In 1894 a Republican landslide swept over the 
 Unit€‘d States, similar to the Democratic landslide 
 which carried into power the first Democratic Congress 
 in which Mr. Bland served and in which he was chaii'- 
 man of the Committee on Mines and Mining, in 1874. 
 Ill Missouri, as in other parts of the United States, many 
 Democratic voters failed to vote, and Mr. Bland was 
 defeated for the first time since liis election in 1872. Dr. 
 Joel D. Hubbard, of Versailles, was elected in his 
 stead. 
 
 Mr. Bland’s retirement was devoted to the organiza- 
 tion of the forces of free silver for the capture of the 
 organization of the Democratic party. He was in 
 touch with the leaders of the nation and was looked to 
 as the great leader of the believers in bimetallism. 
 Mr. Bland was first most interested in Missouri. He, 
 in common with the other Democratic leaders of the 
 State, was confident that the disaster of 1894 was 
 caused by the desire of the independent Democratic 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 155 
 
 Toter to administer a rebuke to President Cleveland 
 and the supporters of the Administration’s financial 
 views. 
 
 In 1894 the party of the State had met in conven- 
 tion at Kansas City, at which time Mr. Bland had pre- 
 sided over its deliberations, and it had adopted a free- 
 silver platform, but the advocates of the gold standard 
 were still powerful in the council chambers of the 
 party. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MR. BLAND AND THE PRESIDENCY.— HIS PER 
 SONAL CHARACTERISTICS.— HIS 
 LIFE’S USEFULNESS. 
 
 In the early part of 1895, a movement was started 
 in Missouri, which constitutes the inception of the 
 famous struggle for the control of the organization of 
 the Democratic party. The object of this political 
 move was to bring about the holding of a State conven- 
 tion to define the position of the party in Missouri upon 
 the money question. This the more conservative 
 members of the party, and especially those who were 
 sympathizers with Mr. Cleveland, dej>recated as an un- 
 precedented move. It was bitterly opposed by every 
 lukewarm believer in free silver and by the radical 
 supporters of the Cleveland ideas. It was argued by 
 them that the party had never before felt it necessary 
 to hold such an extraordinary convention and attempt 
 to dictate the policies of the national organization. 
 
 ]\fr. Bland gave his hearty approval to the move- 
 ment. It was in fact following after the famous “part- 
 ing of the ways” speech made by him. It evidenced 
 the determination of Mr. Bland and those who held to 
 his opinions, and showed that there was nothing which 
 would restrain them from making every effort, ordinary 
 
RICHARD P. BLAHD. 
 
 157 
 
 and extraordinary, to capture and overthrow the po- 
 sition of the gold standard advocate in the Democratic 
 party. They were burning bridges behind them. Mr. 
 Bland saw readily the far-reaching effect of a conven- 
 tion held in Missouri, for the purpose of speaking for 
 silver. He saw that it would start a tide of enthusi- 
 asm to rolling over the nation that would sweep all 
 opposition in the Democratic party before it. He real- 
 ized that the time had come to give his life’s idea the 
 life and vigor which would make it a most important 
 factor in national politics. 
 
 On the other hand, the ardent administrationists 
 saw that if this convention should be held, the unques- 
 tioned sentiment of the party in Missouri would spring 
 to a fountain-head and pour forth destruction upon the 
 men who sought to restrain it; hence every possible 
 effort was put forth against it. 
 
 The State Central Committee seemed to be in the 
 control of the gold standard supporters and the pros- 
 pects were looked upon as unfavorable to the proj- 
 ect, when the counties favorable to silver called the 
 convention themselves. This convention was held at 
 Pertle Springs, Mo., in August, 1895. An enthusiastic 
 throng of silver Democrats predominated and a strong 
 platform was adopted, committing the party to Mr. 
 Bland’s ideas on the money question. The convention, 
 among other things, directed Mr. Bland, as the chair- 
 man of the convention, to appoint a committee com- 
 
158 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 posed of two from each congressional district in the 
 State, to represent the State in a conference, called by 
 Senators Turpie of Indiana, Jones of Arkansas, and 
 Harris of Tennessee, to be held at Washington. This 
 committee was appointed by Mr. Bland and the organi- 
 zation of the silver forces was much aided by the con- 
 ference resulting. 
 
 The silver element of the Missouri Democracy at 
 last controlled the State organization and Mr. Bland 
 was the acknowledged leader, sharing his position with 
 none. The crusade which followed the Pertle Springs 
 convention, resulting in the Chicago convention and 
 the Chicago platform, extended over every State of the 
 Union and was one of the most thorough campaigns 
 for mastery ever conducted inside the ranks of a 
 political party, 
 
 Mr. Bland was referred to as the logical presiden- 
 tial candidate of the silver party, but to all the urging 
 of friends he responded deprecatingly. He was not 
 desirous of converting the forthcoming silver campaign 
 into a contest for the furtherment of his personal 
 interests. 
 
 Eaidy in 1896, the Democratic voters of Missouri 
 began holding conventions and primaries to elect dele- 
 gates to the State convention, which was to select dele- 
 gates to the national convention. The greater part of 
 the counties instructing for the election of delegates- 
 at-large, named Mr. Bland as the first choice for dele- 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 159 
 
 gate-at-large. However, when the convention met at 
 Sedalia on April 15, 1896, the State leaders set about 
 to start a campaign for the nomination of Mr. Bland 
 for the presidency. He again protested, saying on 
 more than one occasion : “I hope my friends will not in- 
 sist upon introducing a resolution endorsing me for 
 President. This is a struggle for principle, and, with 
 Missouri leading the fight, we should not place our- 
 selves in a position to be charged with selfish motives.” 
 - At last he saw it useless to resist the calls of his 
 friends and consented to the offering of a resolution 
 endorsing him for the presidency and instructing the 
 delegates chosen to use all their influence to secure his 
 nomination. 
 
 A campaign was then inaugurated, which at one 
 time seemed likely to culminate with success. A wave 
 of enthusiasm for Mr. Bland was observant. The cam- 
 paign was in charge of some of the ablest Democratic 
 leaders in Missouri, who visited other States in the 
 interests of the Bland candidacy. Mr. Bland himself 
 took little, if any, part in the contest, for his sole inter- 
 est was for the success of the silver cause and he did 
 not care for the presidency, except that it might place 
 him where he could benefit the cause of free silver. 
 
 Mr. Bland’s lack of selfish interest in the campaign 
 for his nomination is shown by an incident which oc- 
 curred shortly before the convention met at Chicago. 
 
 Governor Stone and many of Mr. Bland’s supporters 
 — 11 — 
 
160 
 
 FIYE F AMOVE MI8E0VRIAF8. 
 
 thought that it would be a good plan to have Mr. Bland 
 present at Chicago, that his cause might be advanced 
 by his presence. It was believed that if Mr. Bland 
 went to Chicago, not only would the cause of free silver 
 be successful in the convention, for that was then prac- 
 tically certain, bnt that the enthusiastic silver men 
 would not be able to resist the inspiration lent by Mr. 
 Bland, the father of the movement, and his presence. 
 Along in the latter part of June, jnst after the adjourn- 
 ment of Congress, Governor Stone sent for Major T. O. 
 Towles, one of Mr. Bland’s closest personal friends and 
 for years Chief Clerk of the House of Representatives, 
 and asked Major Towles if he thought he could induce 
 Mr. Bland to go to Chicago, as others had failed. 
 Major Towles advised the Governor that he feai'ed if 
 Mr. Bland had said he would not go, no possible influ- 
 ence could induce him to go, but he agreed to visit Mr. 
 Bland at Lebanon and join in the pleas for him to pur- 
 sue this course. So Major Towles went to Lebanon on 
 this mission. 
 
 Mr. Bland received him cordially and was affable 
 and pleasant throughout the interview. Major Towles, 
 in relating the story, said: “I talked with Mr. Bland; 
 finally, upon the subject of his candidacy for the pres- 
 idency, and urged him to go to Chicago, saying that his 
 presence there would be practically certain to secure 
 his nomination, but he shook his head repeatedly. 
 ‘Towles,’ he said at length, ‘I don’t want that nomina- 
 
niCUARD P. BLiyD. 
 
 161 
 
 tiou, and my friends must not put my personal inter- 
 ests above principles. I will accept the nomination if 
 it is given me, but so far as making an effort to secure 
 it myself, that I will not do.’ ” Continuing, Major 
 Towles said: “I saw that the situation was this: If 
 
 Bland was to be nominated, it must be done without 
 his presence at the convention. When I started to go, 
 Mr. Bland followed me to the gate, talking all the way 
 about the coming convention, in which he showed the 
 keenest interest, not by any means as a candidate, but 
 for the success of the cause of free silver and the judi- 
 cious beginning of the bitter fight which his experi- 
 enced mind told him was coming. At the gate, when I 
 turned to tell him good-bye, I again asked him if he 
 would not reconsider, heed the requests of his friends 
 and go to Chicago. ‘No,’ said he with characteristic 
 firnmess, that I knew permitted no swerving; ‘as I said 
 before, Towles, I don’t want that nomination. If ft 
 comes to me, well and good; if not, well and good. I 
 shall not turn my hand over to win it. If I knew I could 
 get the nomination by going to Chicago, I would not 
 go.’ ” 
 
 Even the appeals of a confidential friend and polit- 
 ical adviser were unavailing and could not induce him 
 to bring himself into prominence at Chicago by his 
 own efforts. 
 
 Before the convention a thorough campaign was 
 conducted in behalf of the Bland candidacy, and when 
 
162 FIYE FAMOUS MISSOVRIAFS. 
 
 the convention met the Missourian was regarded as the 
 logical candidate and the strongest probability. At the 
 convention every possible effort was made and the suc- 
 cess of Bland seemed imminent until Mr. Bryan loomed 
 into prominence because of his brilliant speech, deliv- 
 ered at an opportune moment before the convention. 
 Bryan drew toward him the very large element of the 
 convention who did not believe that Mr. Bland’s candi- 
 dacy would lend the enthusiasm to the campaign that 
 Bryan’s would give. Some thought the Nebraskan 
 was the ablest advocate of silver coinage in the Demo- 
 cratic party and his nomination was practically assured 
 from the hour that his prominence before the conven- 
 tion began. Mr. Bland led on the first three ballots, 
 Bryan began to gain on the fourth ballot, while the 
 fifth resulted in a stampede to Bryan, one of the most 
 wonderful in the history of political conventions. 
 
 Just before the nomination of Bryan, but when the 
 progress of the balloting indicated beyond all doubt 
 the impending nomination, Governor Stone read a note 
 which Mr. Bland had placed in his hands before the 
 meeting of the convention. It said: “If it should at 
 
 any time appear that my candidacy is an obstruction 
 to the nomination of any candidate who is acceptable 
 to the free coinage delegation, or one more acceptable 
 than myself, I wish my name at once withdrawn from 
 further consideration. Put the cause above men.” 
 
 Thus ended Bland’s candidacy for the presidency, in 
 
RICHARD P. BLAHD. 
 
 163 
 
 which he took no part himself and which he allowed to 
 be launched only for the advancement of the cause of 
 free silver. Mr. Bryan was nominated and the cam- 
 paign forthcoming drew to it the staunchest support of 
 the Missouri father of the silver movement. 
 
 From that day the great Missouri champion of bi- 
 metallism passed into the ranks of the great Americans 
 with undying fame, but who never became presidents. 
 
 That he was not nominated was a source of more or 
 less personal relief to Mr. Bland. He consented to the 
 use of his name because of the representations made to 
 him that he would be the strongest man the silver 
 forces could find. When Mr. Bryan was brought be- 
 fore the country in the role of a presidential candidate, 
 Mr. Bland willingly cast his mantle upon younger and 
 stronger shoulders. The father of the great crusade 
 for silver’s restoration felt only interest in the success 
 of the cause, and if it could have approached victory as 
 easily under the leadership of Bryan as under his own, 
 the personal side of the matter vanished. 
 
 The defeat which Mr. Bryan and the Democratic 
 party met at the polls in 1896 was not felt more keenly 
 by anyone than by Mr. Bland, but, reconciled as he 
 had been in defeats many times before, by a firm con- 
 viction that he was in the right, he felt that the time 
 for Truth’s triumph had not yet appeared, so he took 
 up his duties in Congress with the old determination 
 and confidence in the future. His election to the Fifty- 
 fifth Congress wms accomplished by a large majority. 
 
164 
 
 FIVE FAMOES MI8S0VRIAES. 
 
 Tlie absolute absence of selfish consideration from 
 Mr. Bland’s character is as strongly evidenced by his 
 course in the campaign of 1800 as by any other fact. 
 After his retirement from the race for the presidency, 
 he had the nomination for governor in Missouri within 
 his grasp to be had for the asking. But he realized 
 that in no way could he aid the silver cause by serving 
 as Missouri’s chief executive, and he instantly forced 
 the dismissal of all such proposals from public con- 
 sideration b}^ declining firmly to receive any nomina- 
 tion within the gift of the people outside of that for 
 Congress in his old district, which he received and was 
 enthusiastically re-elected after a retirement of two 
 years. 
 
 The closing years of his long congressional service 
 were marked largely with his relinquishment of active 
 leadership. He refused to become the leader of the 
 Democratic minority in the Honse of Representatives, 
 although the party representatives in the lower house 
 of Congress were never so earnestly devoted to him 
 and his ideas as in the sessions of the Fifty-fifth Con- 
 gress. For the first time in his long career, the men of 
 his party left in Congress were practically united upon 
 the great issue he represented and personified in so 
 many ways. Never had he commanded the respect 
 and faithful following that he had in those latter years; 
 yet withal he declined to pose before the country in 
 the conspicuous position of minority leader of the 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 165 
 
 Lower House. But notwithstanding this fact he stood 
 as the actual leader and the harmonizing factor among 
 his party men. 
 
 In the Fifty-fifth Congress he carried his brilliant 
 career to a consistent close. He opposed in this Con- 
 gress the efforts to establish the gold standard more 
 firmly by a so-called reform of the currency. He an- 
 tagonized, as in former years, the advocates of the pro- 
 tective tariff system. He saw the far-reaching effects 
 of the two fold policy of the Republican party — to 
 maintain a high tariff and foster the development of 
 commercial combinations and monopolies; to maintain 
 a gold standard and render easy fhe control of the 
 metallic money of the country by limiting the coinage 
 and privileges of certain metals, thus placing the peo- 
 ple of the United States at the mercy of wealth, ena- 
 bling control of the prices of commodities, necessary to 
 existence, by commercial combines, and forcing down 
 the iirices of labor and articles not under the control of 
 the trust by the conti’action of the money supply of the 
 land. 
 
 During Mr. Bland’s last term in Congress, there 
 arose the great questions of the Spanish-American 
 War. Prior to the war, his ardent sympathies were 
 with the Cuban peoxde; during the war, his patriotic 
 purpose was to urge the war’s successful prosecution; 
 after the war and the arising of its results as political 
 questions, he opposed vigorously the plans to defeat 
 
166 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 the humane purposes of the war and for the acquire- 
 ment of conquered territory without the consent of the 
 people. The position Mr. Bland took on the questions 
 of the Spanish War was the most conspicuous feature 
 of the last few months of his life, and to those who op- 
 posed his ideas, later, came the time when they realized 
 that the l)emoeratic party would find it necessary to 
 apply at least the central idea of the revered Demo- 
 cratic statesman to the issues of the time. In part and 
 and in detail, however, Mr. Bland dilfered widely from 
 many who were his most ardent supporters on the 
 silver issue. 
 
 When the time came to meet the great question of 
 preparing for the financial demands of the war, Mr. 
 Bland offered a bill providing for the coinage of the 
 seignorage on silver bullion purchased for the payment 
 of the expenses of the war, but that was not the plan of 
 the Administration, the Secretary of the Treasury 
 instead being directed to issue bonds. 
 
 In the last days of the Fifty-fifth Congress, there 
 was witnessed the development of one of the greatest 
 political questions of modern times. Clouds were then 
 gathered and are 3'et hanging ominously over American 
 commerce, — the giant forms of the trust and combine. 
 For years Mr. Bland had seen approaching the exi- 
 gencies these creatures of legislative injustice would 
 bring. He had hurled the charge against the early ad- 
 \ ocates of the gold standard that their policies would 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 16 
 
 result in the crushing of individual effort; therefore, 
 the period in which he passed to the grave was the hour 
 for the vindication of his views. From every corner 
 of the continent arose the complaints of those who were 
 feeling the crushing effects of the trust’s domination. 
 Mr. Bland years before had known that the germ 
 placed in the body of American politics at the outset 
 of his political career, by the first concession to greed, 
 was but beginning to work its dreaded evils by the 
 depreciating of silver. He saw whence proceeded the 
 impending mastery of the dollar and the financial 
 serfdom of man. 
 
 In 1898, Mr. Bland was returned to Congress for the 
 last time, being then elected to the Fifty-sixth Con- 
 gress, whose first session he did not live to see. 
 
 On the 15th of June, 1899, after a lingering illness, 
 he passed from this world’s work and turmoil into rest 
 everlasting. The end came to him with peace. ThirO'- 
 six hours before the moment in which he ceased to 
 breathe, he had fallen into a sleep from which he never 
 awoke. On Tuesday, June 13th, he seemed to realize 
 the approach of the end and called all the members of 
 his family to his bedside. In those last moments of con- 
 sciousness he confided to his loving family the last mes- 
 sage of his sixty-four years of life. When the physi- 
 cians entered the room shortly after, he was found 
 asleep, with his youngest daughter, Virginia, clasped 
 in his last loving embrace. 
 
168 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 At 4 ;30 Thursday morning death came without the 
 return of consciousness, and Missouri’s Great Com- 
 moner had breathed his last. The light of a useful life 
 had gone out. 
 
 On Saturday following he was laid to rest in the 
 Lebanon Cemetery with a simple, impressive cere- 
 mony, witnessed by a distinguished throng, comprising 
 famous men of all political faiths from Missouri and 
 surrounding States. 
 
 A personal review of Mr. Bland would require a 
 volume in itself. Few men have been advanced so 
 high as he wms placed, w'ho possessed the force of char- 
 acter and elements of sterling manhood that he had. 
 He was almost destitute of selfish ambition, always 
 singularly modest, and at times almost bashful from 
 manner and appearance. He wms by no means an 
 orator or graceful speaker. The attention he com- 
 manded w'as rather because of his candor, his honesty 
 and evident sincerity of purpose, and the logic of his 
 facts. The tricks and enthusing periods of a campaign 
 orator were matters^of which he was esiiecially igno- 
 rant. However, whenever he spoke he swayed more 
 minds by his energy and forceful speech than the rhet- 
 oric and polished manners of the orator. The Housp 
 of Representatives, during the twenty-six years of his 
 ser\dce, had few men superior to him in debate, par- 
 ticularly upon economic questions. His mind was 
 
BIGHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 169 
 
 quick, his retort was mild but firm, his intelligeuce and 
 kuowledge of every position he assumed made him 
 feared as a powerful advocate, an ally to be desired, 
 and a foe to be avoided. 
 
 His vast fund of information upon financial ques- 
 tions served him so well that few men, not familiar 
 with the details of a public question, could meet him 
 nith discretion. The pen he wdelded only to record 
 some of his pow^erful thoughts, and when he wrote 
 upon any economic subject, within the range of his 
 capable mind, his writings were so lucid, clear, logical, 
 and perfect in j'hrase and diction as to call forth re- 
 mark that the author w^as an unassuming farmer dwell- 
 ing in the hills of southern Missouri. 
 
 A Washington newspaper correspondent relates an 
 incident serving to stamp the man as wonderfully sup- 
 plied with facts. During the debate upon the repeal 
 of the purchasing clause of the Sherman law, he was 
 asked by a leading magazine to contribute an article 
 embodying his opinions upon the questions under de- 
 bate. Mr. Bland expressed regret to the correspond- 
 ent that he had not the time to prepare the article, 
 when the newspaper man said, “MTiy not dictate it to 
 our stenographer?” 
 
 Mr. Bland smiled and said that he did not wish to 
 take up the time of the newspaper office, but, being 
 assured that it would not be at all inconvenient, he sat 
 dowm by the stenographer, turned to the letter from the. 
 
170 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 magazine, noted the scope of discussion, and began 
 dictating his article with great rapidity. After the dic- 
 tation had been completed, he glanced it over hastily, 
 and made only a few corrections before sending it to 
 the magazine. Upon publication, the article proved 
 to be a model in that it was so concisely constructed 
 and the opinions of the writer so logically expressed. 
 
 In the work of legislation Mr. Bland belonged to a 
 class embodying only a few of latter-day statesmen, 
 those of whom it is said with truth, ‘‘they court rather 
 than evade an issue.” His mind was never absorbed 
 in plans to reserve his views from public comment 
 until he could catch the drift of sentiment, as many do. 
 He met every question fearlessly and never paused to. 
 Ihink what a position consistent with conviction would 
 cost him politically. He was so destitute of selfish- 
 ness that his regard for office and for public favor was 
 such that he would have gone into political exile had 
 necessity demanded that he do so for his principles. 
 
 He was firm in all things he thought right. No 
 man, great or insignificant, could swerve him from 
 wliat he thought right. He was a despiser of weak 
 convictions; hence never permitted himself to falter in 
 his allegiance to his own conscience. 
 
 He cared as little for what the press or public said 
 or thought of him, personally, as any man ever promi- 
 nent in American politics. His only regard for what 
 men said of him was in the event that their words 
 
RICHARD P. BLAND. 
 
 171 
 
 would help or injure the great cause for which he lived 
 and strived. Every man he treated with unquestioned 
 justice and fairness. No man rose so high in the pub- 
 lic eyes or possessed such power and influence as to 
 impel Bland’s obeisance to him. No man ever fell so 
 deep into the mire of society or filled positions so ob- 
 scure as to be beyond his great heart’s consideration. 
 The word of the poor, uninfluential man counted for as 
 much with him as that of the man with power at the 
 tips of every finger. 
 
 His manner in dealing with friend or foe was above 
 all manner of suspicion. No one could have urged any- 
 thing dishonest against him, for the charges would 
 have disproved themselves. He started into public life 
 with the open declaration that he did not want a con- 
 gressional nomination by any means in any way sug- 
 gestive of fraud or dishonorable methods. He stood 
 firm to his original intention while other public men, 
 weaker men, fell by the way-side of political life and 
 lost their laurels in the mire of political dishonor. 
 
 Bland was as near akin to Andrew Jackson as any 
 man since Jackson’s time. In type different in many 
 particulars, yet in purpose, in integrity and fearless- 
 ness they were two men after the same heart. 
 
 Bland was legitimately the successor of Thomas 
 Hart Benton, yet was without the selfish nature, the 
 egotism, the presumption of the famous Missouri sen- 
 
172 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 ator, although both men fought the people’s battles 
 against combined wealth and concerted greed. 
 
 When “the breath of the eternal morn” touched 
 Bland, it found him spotless and clean in heart and soul. 
 It brought him rest, peace, and renewed honor. Lfosser 
 men who ridiculed him may live and fall forgotten, in 
 time fill nameless graves, but the name of Bland is 
 graven too glitteringly upon history’s pages for his 
 fame to ever lose one particle of its brightness. 
 
 Fifty years hence proud heads will bow to his name 
 and nations do reverence to his honor, his integrity, his 
 high, uiKpiestioned purpose, his faithful, untiring serv- 
 ice of truth against all odds. His is a fame which 
 gathers luster and brilliancy with passing years — all 
 because events must and will serve as irrefutable, un- 
 impeachable testimonials to his great life’s worth. 
 
CnA/nP CLARK, 
 
 ORA TOR. STA TESMAN, WRITER, AND LA WYER. 
 
. . ^ 
 
 ■ . «r. • ■ • 
 
 
 i 
 
 f 
 
 
 X. 
 
 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The subject of this sketch is well entitled to a place 
 among “Famous Missourians,” and he has earned his 
 right to it by great ability, by lidelity to his principles, 
 and by unswerving honesty. There may be Missouri- 
 ans about whom the public press prints more frequent 
 comments; but there is not one living to-day, and I 
 very much doubt if one ever lived, whose writings 
 and whose speeches have been so widely copied 
 and read as have those of Champ Clark during 
 the last four years. There is scarcely a weekly 
 newspaper in the United States that has not printed 
 extracts from his letters or his speeches several 
 times each year since 1804, and what he has Avritten or 
 spoken has been read and enjoyed in almost every 
 household iii this Eejoiblic. 
 
 I haA^e heard his unfriendly critics declare that it 
 Avas the (piaiutness of his speech and writing that com- 
 manded such universal attention; but the men avIio say 
 that have not considered the matter carefully. It is 
 true there is a peculiarity all his oavu iu his Avay of say- 
 ing things; but apart from all of that, Avhat he says is 
 always worth reading, and nearly . always Avorth re- 
 membering. At lirst I was simply entertained by his 
 aphoristic style of speaking, but when I examined the 
 
 — 12 — 
 
176 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 matter independently of the manner, I found that there 
 was always meat in his odd sentences; and after an 
 intimate association with him in Congress for four 
 years, during which time I read or heard everything 
 he has written or spoken, I regard him as one of the 
 strongest men in the American Congress. There are 
 others there as strong in speech, and others as strong 
 in thought; but it is rare to find any man either in or 
 out of Congress who is his equal both in thought and 
 speech. And what is better still than the way he 
 thinks or the way he speaks is his rugged hoinesty, 
 which knows “no variableness nor shadow of turning.” 
 Not only is Champ Clark entitled to a place among 
 “Famous Missourians,” but I am willing to put myself 
 on record in this print that if he lives and keeps his 
 healih he is destined to become the most “Famous 
 IMissourian” of his generation. 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE FAMILY OF CHAMP CLARK.— HIS BOY- 
 HOOD AND EARLY EXPERIENCES.— 
 YOUTHFUL SCHOOL-TEACH- 
 INO.— UNIVERSITY 
 CAREER. 
 
 In the eai-ly twenties, educational facilities in Ken- 
 tucky were extremely limited. Common schools were 
 almost unknown, colleges were rare, and where they 
 did exist their patronage was obtained almost ex- 
 clusively from th(! wealthier class of Kentucky people. 
 Naturally, with these conditions prevailing, there was 
 slight use for the professional man. Of course, the old- 
 time doctor, with his saddle-pockets tilled with bottles 
 of calomel, castor oil, salts, laudanum, and pills of 
 many sorts and mysterious composition, was a neces- 
 sary complement of the community. Likewise the cir- 
 cuit-rider came into the untutored community to 
 preach, without pecuniary recompense, the tidings of 
 salvation, sometimes in the cabins and oftentimes with 
 only the canopy of heaven for an enclosure. 
 
 Last of all, the lawyer was needed. - Jealousy, envy, 
 and strife were practically unknown in those pioneer 
 days, for a common interest and a common sympathy 
 made people brothers — almost communistic in their re- 
 
178 
 
 FITE FAM0V8 MIB80VRTA-N8. 
 
 lations. Where the lawyer was foiiml, he secured the 
 means for sustenance by writing deeds and wills, set- 
 tling land claims, or occasionally participating as coun- 
 sel in some murder case of those early days. He was 
 rarely needed, and when his services were necessitated, 
 he received small fees for his services. 
 
 In the early twenties, so environed, two noble young 
 men of Kentucky origin, James T. Beauchamp and 
 Jeroboam O. Beauchamp, cousins, were reared, after 
 the manner of the days of that period. The home-circle 
 was proud of these youths and society honored them 
 with its favor on account of their strict morals, hand- 
 some persons, keen intelligence, and polished manners. 
 
 Despite the unpromising outlook for the man of a 
 lu’ofession, James T. Beauchamp thought he foresav; 
 that, in the future, his services would l)e needed when 
 the country should liecome more fully develo])ed. Ac- 
 cordingly, he entered the profession of law, and next 
 chose a helpmeet in the person of Miss Elizabeth Jetl, 
 renowned in all the neighboring region for her beauty 
 and accomplishments. Miss Jett was the daughter of 
 a i-ich widow who had emigrated to Kentucky from 
 Virginia. jNIrs. Jett's maiden name was Kobertsoii. 
 She was a cousin to Chief Justice Bobertson, of Ken- 
 tucky. Elizabeth Jett's brother, Dr. Hiram Jett, 
 whose name is familiar to many Kentuckians, became 
 one of the most conspicuous men of the State. 
 
 James T. Beauchami:) and Elizabeth Jett were the 
 maternal grandparents of Champ Clark. 
 
CHAMP GLARE. 
 
 179 
 
 For some }'eai-s after liis marriage, James T. Beau- 
 eliamp was liappy and prosperous, amassing consider- 
 able wealtli. He rose into prominence as a lawyer and 
 was tinally elected to the Legislature, soon after he 
 became eligible to the office. 
 
 Scarcely a year after James T. Beauchamp was 
 married, Jeroboam O. Beauchamp, his lirst cousin, 
 chanced to meet a celebrated beauty (jf the period. Miss 
 Anna Cooper, with whom he became enamored. Then 
 he learned her sad story — that she had been Itetrayed 
 liy a vile scoundrel, a Colonel Sharp, who for several 
 years was a member of Congress from the Creeii Kiver 
 District. Upon being importuned for A'erilication of 
 the stoi-y by y(»ung Beaucham]», Miss <'ooi»er told him 
 of the wrongs indicted upcm her, whereupon Beau 
 chamj) espoused her misfortunes, became her chanijiion 
 and avenger, and killed Sharp, but not without provo- 
 cation, however, foi-, it is said. Sharp had continued 
 to add insult to previous injury, which occasioned his 
 being killed. As a result of this tragedy, young Beau- 
 champ met death on the gallows, despite that all Ken- 
 t ucky 1 0'Se in cries for his libei-atiou. This Beauchamp- 
 Sharp tragedy is one of the most famous in the annals 
 of Kentucky jurisprudence. 
 
 From this fateful time, it is related, James T. Beau- 
 champ mn'er smiled and lived but a few years, dying 
 eventually of a broken heart, leaving a beautiful young 
 widow and four little children, for whom he had well 
 
180 
 
 FIVE FAMiJUS MISSOURIAEB. 
 
 provided. Because of tlie implicit confidence reposed 
 in his wife, Beauchamp aa illed her all his property, be- 
 lieving that she would be just to her children. Scarce- 
 ly had a feAV years passed w^hen she married a man 
 named Mars, possessed of nothing save his debts. It 
 Avas then the law that Avhen a woman married, her 
 property became her husband’s. Mars’ creditors, hear- 
 ing of his marriage to the widow of considerable 
 Avealth, immediately went to Paducah and took all of 
 IMrs. Beauchamp’s possessions; thus the Beauchamp 
 children were left penniless. For four 3'ears, Mrs. 
 Mars did all in her poAver to provide for her children, 
 Avhen the typhoid fever occasioned the death of Mars, 
 his Avife, young Beauchamp, aged fourteen, and the two 
 IMars children, all during one fall. Grandmother Jett 
 then came to the rescue, took the remaining Beau- 
 champ children to the old Robertson farm, now a part 
 of Avhat comprises the present site of Lawrenceburg, to 
 live with her brother and tAvo sisters, all of whom were 
 very elderly. The children she adopted Avere Aletha 
 Jane, Margaret, and Hiram Beauchamp. 
 
 Aletha was sixteen years old at that time, beautiful 
 of face and form, Avell educated for her years, and a 
 musician of more than ordinary ability. Said one who 
 kneAv her: “She became a Christian early in her ’teens, 
 and Avas ever true and devoted and the sunshine of her 
 adopted home. IIoav those old people loved her! Many 
 Avere made juAenile again by her Avarm and loving 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 181 
 
 heart. The old house that had stood nearly half a cen- 
 tury was transformed into a thing of beauty by her 
 presence, for we saw her and felt the influence of the 
 halo that surrounded her.” 
 
 In Louis’sille there lived a wealthy relative of hers, 
 Mrs. Miller, the wife of the celebrated Doctor Miller, 
 author of medical works, who offered to educate her in 
 any college, of her choice, and introduce her to society, 
 but she declined in these words: “My grandmother 
 has been kind to me; she needs me now and I cannot 
 go.” Mrs. Letche, wife of Governor R. P. Letche, 
 another cousin of her mother, also made a similar offer, 
 but her reply was in substance the same: “My grand- 
 
 mother must lean on me in her declining j'ears.” The 
 neighbors marvelled at the noble traits evinced in this 
 young girl, whose early life might have been one con- 
 tinual record of pleasure. Another woman who knew 
 her well once said : “We looked upon this bright speci- 
 
 men of humanity with wonder. How one so young and 
 whose life had been a vale of tears would be so happy 
 and joyous, living as though life were only love and 
 pleasure, was a mystery to us. She won all hearts; she 
 softened the hardest and infused light and warmth 
 into the darkest and coldest. She did not care for 
 wealth; she could have married rich and good men too, 
 hut she said: ‘I cannot make merchandise of myself.’ 
 We want but little here below, nor want that little 
 long,’ was a favorite quotation of hers. It seemed 
 
182 
 
 FIVE FIMOUE MISmVIUANf^. 
 
 that the Spirit of God was whispering to her that her 
 days would be few.” 
 
 Before slie was twenty, Aletha Jane Beauchamp 
 met a handsome, intelligent gentleman from New 
 Jersey, whose name was John Hampton Clark. He 
 was a teacher of vocal music and a traveling dentist; an 
 incongruous combination, yet not out of the ordinary in 
 those days. F-ach was enamored of the other, and a 
 year after this acquaintance began they were married. 
 John Hampton Claik and Aletha Jane Beauchamp are 
 tlie X'arents of Chami) Claik. 
 
 Three children Avere born to this union — Elizabeth. 
 Margai-et, and Chamj). A few years after her marriage, 
 and when little Champ was but seA^eral mouths over 
 three years of age, the mother died, at the early age of 
 twenty-seven years. On her death-bed she called to 
 lier children and pressed each to her heart, saying, 
 “They will not remember their mother, but do, my dear 
 friends and relatives, tell them how I loved them.” 
 DraAving her only boy. Chain]), to her bedside, frequent- 
 ly slie Avoiild lay her hand upon his head and say: “I 
 
 Avaiit this little head tilled Avith wisdom.” When she 
 realized that her death was near, she called for her 
 cousin and asked her to care for her only son; her last 
 injunction being to have him educated for the ministry. 
 
 The devotioin of little Champ to his mother was 
 wonderful even for one of his precocity. Although not 
 four years of age, he refused to leave her bedside, and 
 
GHAMP CLARK. 
 
 183 
 
 when compelled to do so, cried so yociferouslv that the 
 attendants were forced to take him back. After his 
 mother was buried and while the funeral parri’ was 
 leaving the cemetery, a shower of rain came up. Little 
 Cliami) eluded his relatives, ran back to the family lot, 
 mounted his mother's grave, and declared: “I will not 
 
 leave my mamma in the rain.” It necessitated forcible 
 means to get the little fellow to the house, where he 
 became in a high state of nervous excitement. As a 
 result, brain fever came on, and for many weeks the 
 child hovered between life and death, but the careful 
 nursing of his aunt, Margaret Beauchamp, and his 
 Grandmother Jett finally restored him to his wonted 
 health. During his sickness little Champ formed an 
 attachment for them that was never effaced. The 
 father at last deemed it best to take the children away 
 from the old scenes of sorrow. Soon after their depart- 
 ure the good grandmother died, and his aunt married 
 one Captain Jordan. 
 
 So much for Mr. Clark's maternal ancestors. His 
 I)aterual grandfather was named Adrial Clark, who 
 married Elizabeth Archer, a well known Quaker belle of 
 the ijeriod. At one time Captain Clark was immensely 
 rich, owning many sea-going vessels, and also was the 
 joint proprietor of very valuable glass works; but died 
 almost in poverty, his vessels being wrecked by storms 
 and his partner absconding with the profits of the glass- 
 blowing industry. 
 
184 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOUFTANS. 
 
 Mr. Clark’s father was born near Little Egg Harbor 
 in New Jersey; he was the youngest of thirteen chil- 
 dren, and was named for a half-brother, who was 
 drowned at sea while sailing on one of his father’s 
 ships as captain of the vessel. He was ambitious and 
 wanted to study for one of the learned i>rofessious, but 
 his mother was very poor and unable to educate her 
 children, after the death of her husband. At an early 
 age he was apprenticed to a wagon- and buggy-maker 
 to learn the trade, and, it is said, to the day of his death 
 he was always vexed to see a poorly constructed vehi- 
 cle. His mother’s apprenticing him made him angry, 
 and as soon as he reached his majority he came West, 
 thereafter having no communication whatever with his 
 kindred in New Jersey. For several years he followed 
 his trade in Kentucky, when, his health failing, he first 
 taught singing schools and then practiced dentistry, 
 as has been told. 
 
 When Champ Clark was a child, his father as an 
 itinerant dentist rode around over four or five counties 
 with a huge pair of saddle-bags, one end of which was 
 filled with dental implements, the other with speeches 
 of Stephen A. Douglas, John C. Breckinridge, and 
 other great Democrats of the times. He was a natural 
 controversialist, arguing on any subject. His convic- 
 tions on politics and religion were strong, and his prej- 
 udices equally so. He Avas thoroughly Democratic in 
 
VBAMP CLARK. 
 
 185 
 
 l>olitioal faith, with Thomas Jefferson and Andrew 
 Jackson as his political idols. 
 
 It is related that while on these journejs of mingled 
 doctoring and preaching, all the Whigs and Eepuh- 
 lica.ns on his circuit were made miserable by his argu- 
 ments for Democratic principles and by his appropriate 
 quotations from the speeches of Breckinridge and 
 Douglas, which he always had at his lips’ end. Said 
 one who knew him well: “He would corner them up 
 
 and argufy with them till they were dizzy, shooting 
 into them choice excerpts from these speeches.” Al- 
 though theoretically delighting in politics, John H. 
 Clark was never a candidate for any office; in fact, he 
 had no ambition to become prominent in any field of 
 labor, which characterized him all through life. 
 
 It is deplorable that he was not educated and did 
 not devote his time to some intellectual pursuit. He 
 possessed but a rudimentary English education, but 
 was very well informed.for he was an omnivorous reader 
 and possessed a large fund of information on many 
 topics. Aot having the advantages of a college educa- 
 tion himself, he determined that his children should 
 have the advantages accruing from a higher education, 
 and he coustantlj’ urged them to secure such, which both 
 of his children eventually did. 
 
 Toward the close of his life, while relinquishing 
 none of his interest in political issues, he devoted the 
 greater part of his time to religious affairs. His knowl- 
 
186 
 
 FITE FAMOUS J77.S'8'01^y^'7.l^■*S'. 
 
 edge of the Bible was marvelous, aud, like his sou, he 
 was familiar with almost every passage. He auiiotated 
 a, Bible for himself, and in au iustaut could find any 
 passage -i-elatiug- to any subject in question. Couceru- 
 iug matters of religion he was just as ready and eager 
 to argue as in matters ])olitical. 
 
 He was possessed of no desire for riches, yet was 
 not indolent. It is told that he never possessed, at one 
 time in his life, property or cniTency to the value of five 
 hundred dollars. 
 
 By nature he was a teachei' and was always engaged 
 in instructing some youth in one manner or another. 
 M any men to-day in Kentucky, ])roniinent more or less 
 in the ]ml])it, at the bai-, or in the class-i-oom, were in 
 youth jmpils of John Hampton Clark. 
 
 He was an interesting conversationalist, a forcible 
 jniblic speaker, and an excellent leader, as well as one 
 of the best tellers of anecdotes found anywhere. It is 
 readily discerned from whence Champ Clark derived 
 many of his characteristics. 
 
 In personal appearance he was prepossessing; a 
 man of tine physique, about six feet tall, rather slender, 
 and weighing 105 pounds. His hair was curly and dark 
 brown in color. His eyes and head were peculiarly 
 formed, one of his optics being blue, the other black, 
 while his head was very large, most of it being in front 
 of his ears. 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 187 
 
 In Anderson County, Kentucky, on March 7, 1850, 
 Champ Clark was horn. The environments of his 
 childhood and the incidents of his early life have been 
 related. 
 
 MTien Champ Clark was a child, he had a very large 
 head and a small neck, which combination made his 
 father fear that the youth had a weak constitution. So 
 he set him — with Yankee timeliness — to chinning poles, 
 swinging on hand-swings, and practicing other athletic 
 sports to develop his neck and chest. To those who 
 have seen Mr. Clark in later life, it is superfluous to 
 state how well he succeeded, and to those who have not 
 seen him it might be stated that he wears a collar 
 and a coat of 44 inches chest measurement. As a part 
 of his physical training, Clark's father hired the youth 
 to work on a farm from the time he was large enough 
 to thin corn until he was large enough to do mostly as 
 he pleased. The farm of Clark ^lontgomery, on which 
 Chami) first worked, and for years thereafter, was poor, 
 hilly, and rocky. It is said that the limestone crop far 
 exceeded the production of corn, and that young Clark 
 must have broken enough rock with a sledge-hammer, 
 while working for ^Montgomery, to enclose a townshi]i 
 with a stone fence. 
 
 As a farm-hand Clark was a success. At the age of 
 fourteen there was no man in all the neighborhood 
 where he lived who could bind more wheat than he. 
 The last money the youth made on a farm was in I860, 
 
188 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MIS80URIAES. 
 
 when David Best, a neighboring farmer, paid him 
 twelve dollars for binding wheat six days. 
 
 When he was somewhat over fourteen years of age. 
 Champ tired of farm-work and determined to engage 
 in some more remunerative labor, and accordingly ap- 
 plied for the position of clerk in a country store at the 
 Cross-roads about half-way between Mackville and 
 Willisburg. The country merchant accepted the ap- 
 idication and Champ served in the cajjacity of clerk 
 about three months. In those days in Kentucky, guer- 
 rillas and thieves were prevalent. One day the propri- 
 etor was going away, and before he left he instructed 
 Champ, in case he received considerable money that 
 day, to secrete it in some out-of-the-way place in the 
 store. The advice was heeded — to the sorrow of 
 Champ. About one hundred dollars’ worth of goods 
 was sold that day and Champ hid the proceeds where it 
 was impossible for a robber to discover the where- 
 abouts. The next day, upon his employer’s return, 
 when Champ went to get the money, he found that rob- 
 bers had not molested it, but alas! the rats and mice 
 had found it and had cut it into such small bits that 
 one could not distinguish between a twenty-dollar bill 
 and a two. Champ’s dreams of becoming a merchant 
 prince then ended — as did his career as clerk. He went 
 back to the farm and worked for a few months once 
 more as a farm-hand. 
 
GEAMP GLARE. 
 
 189 
 
 But this sort of work was not congenial to young 
 Champ, so he got up a subscription school in the same 
 neighborhood where he had gone to school, having 
 for his pupils many of his former fellow-pupils. Mr. 
 Clark encountered many difficulties in this school; the 
 scholars who had been his former school-mates were 
 inclined to be too familiar and not to obey the rules, 
 but Clark, before many weeks had passed, made them 
 understand that he was master of the situation, and 
 before the school closed it is doubtful if there was ever 
 a more thoroughly disciplined school. From that day 
 to the time he quit teaching, he never had any difficulty 
 in obtaining a position as a teacher. Mr. Clark does 
 not believe in corporal punishment now, but he did then 
 — it was necessitated, and the boys who were rebellious 
 were made to obey by force of that muscle acquired in 
 wielding the sledge, the axe, the maul, the scythe, and 
 the cradle. 
 
 It soon came about that, boy though he was, young 
 Clark was sent for to teach in unruly districts and at 
 more than usual prices. 
 
 Undoubtedly Champ Clark began school-teaching 
 as early in life as anyone in the world. He was biit 
 fourteen when he began the life of a pedagogue, 
 “Once upon a time,” said Mr. Clark one day, “a dis- 
 tinguished Missouri statesman was nominated for Vice- 
 President. He was a graduate from Yale, and shortly 
 after his nomination he attended a Yale Alumni 
 
190 
 
 FIVE FAMOUIS MIl^SOVniANS. 
 
 banquet. It was charged by the opposition papers 
 that lie was drunk on that occasion. He made an 
 astounding and equirocal answer. He did not plead 
 Huilty.’ He did not plead ‘iSTot guilty.’ He simply 
 said, ‘I have been a temperance man all my life — at 
 intervals.’ So, I was a school-teacher at intervals 
 from the time I was between fourteen and fifteen until 
 I was past thirty-six.” 
 
 It was about this time that Mr. Clark witnessed a 
 lawsuit, which made a vivid impression ui)on his mind 
 and occasioned his receiving an awful tanning. It was 
 a preliminary trial in a justice court at Mackville, Ken- 
 tucky; for assault with intent to kill. One of Kous- 
 seau’s famous “Louisville Legion,” a wdld and reckless 
 fellow^ got his leg fractured by a musket ball at tlu^ 
 battle of Shiloh and wms home on a furlough. There 
 was no saloon then at Mackville, but a druggist named 
 Perkins, a New Yorker, administered to the thirsty by 
 selling them “Log Cabin Bitters,” which consisted jirin- 
 cipally of the vilest article of whisky ever put into a 
 bottle. A half-pint of the stuff w'as sufficient to prompt 
 a man to commit almost any deed. 
 
 On Christmas eve the boys “tanked up” on the Log- 
 Cabin Bitters, Tom Peters among the rest. After he 
 became hilarious in his inebriety, Perkins refused to 
 sell him more and they got into a quarrel, which ended 
 by Peters running after Perkins with a knife and the 
 latter shooting Peters through-and-through with an 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 191 
 
 old single-barreled pistol, then a favorite fire-arm. For 
 several weeks Peters hovered between life and death, 
 but finally got sufficiently better to have his statement 
 taken and written down. Then the preliminary came 
 on. The prosecuting attorney, one Charles Butner, 
 was renowned more as a wit and a wag than as a 
 lawyer of keen ability; therefore, Peters’ friends em- 
 ployed Hon. Bob Harding, subsequently chief justice 
 of Kentucky’s Supreme Court, to assist Butner in the 
 prosecution. Perkins, not to be outdone, retained J. 
 Proctor Knott, since world-famous, and the rural com- 
 munity of Mackville and the people of the surrounding 
 country were out in large numbers to hear and se<! 
 these two able and distinguished disciples of Sir 
 'WTlliam Blackstone. Champ ran off from school to 
 witness that forensic battle, though he knew that his 
 father Avould inflict upon him a dreadful whipping — 
 which he did; but Champ attended his first trial and 
 was convinced that it was well worth the subsequent 
 thrashing. 
 
 Towards the close of the trial, they put upon the 
 witness-stand a well-known Springfield surgeon. Dr. 
 Frank Polin, to testify as to the probabilities of 
 Peters’ recovery. Polin was somewhat intoxicated. 
 He said: “Peters will apptarently get well. He will 
 
 get up and get as fat as a butter-ball; but he will die in 
 less than three years from that bullet-wound, and will 
 
 — 13 — 
 
192 
 
 FIVE FAM0V8 MI8S0VKIAE8. 
 
 turn green as a gourd before he dies — for he is shot 
 squarely through the liver.” 
 
 This was the youthful Chain] >’s first knowledge of 
 the fact that a man possessed a liver, or that, if he had 
 one, it could be classed among the vital organs. The 
 statement of the surgeon made a deeji impression on 
 the mind of young Clark and he watched Peters as a 
 hawk watches a chicken. Peters got up. He became 
 as fat as a butter-ball, so to speak, and died in less than 
 three years — all as Polin had predicted — in the Kocky 
 Mountains, while driving cattle to California. Whether 
 he turned green as a gourd is not known, but one thing 
 certain — as Champ vividly remembers — tliat night his 
 beloved father made the youth’s back red as a lobster 
 with a hickory withe, which in the retrospect appears 
 to Mr. Clark that they grew tougher in Kentucky than 
 elsewhere. 
 
 The justice bound over Perkins, the grand jury in- 
 dicted him, and the petit jury acquitted him on grounds 
 of self-defense. 
 
 Since this memorable trial, Mr. Clark has been con- 
 cerned in many tiials, but none ever fascinated him as 
 did that of the “Commonwealth against Perkins.” 
 Knott and Harding were in the flower of their years, 
 and Butner was the most comical human monkey that 
 ever appeared in court. 
 
 While Clark was teaching in the public schools 
 of Kentucky, Mr. 'William Stevens, locally known as 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 193 
 
 “Uncle Billie” Stevens, of Camden, Anderson Comity, 
 Kentucky, offered to educate Clark at any college in 
 America or Europe if lie would become a preacher in 
 the Christian Church, and on another occasion offered 
 him the education and one-half of his estate, then con 
 sidered a large one, so to do; both of which generous 
 offers he declined, ‘intending all the time to become a 
 lawyer. These offers of “Uncle Billie” were very 
 fempting ami would have saved Mr. Clark a great deal 
 of hard work, some years of time, and many vicissi- 
 tudes. He was a tall, lank, awkward, green, gawky 
 boy. All his worldly possessions consisted of |150 and 
 a gold watch worth about .'fTo, which he had earned by 
 teaching school — a small beginning for a college educa- 
 tion. The acceptance of “Uncle Billie's” proj)osition 
 would have made his way ( asy ; but, whil ^ Chirk always 
 i-egarded the ministry of the gospel as the highest voca 
 lion known among men, he declined the tempting oimr- 
 tures for fear that, when fully growu-ni), he might not 
 have his whole heart in preaching, which Mr. Clark 
 deemed right and essential to success in the ministry. 
 
 But if “Uncle Billie” Stevens did not succeed in 
 making a preacher out of Clark, he did make a Sunday- 
 school teacher and superintendent of him. While he 
 was teaching the public school at Camden, he boarded 
 with “Uncle Billie,” and the latter persisted until he 
 succeeded in getting Clark to first teach a class, ami 
 eventually he was chosen superintendent of the organi- 
 
194 
 
 Fivn I’’.! 14017, S' MIFFOVIUANH. 
 
 zatioii. As ill almost evei-ytliing else, lie made a suc- 
 cess of it. He taught the childreu music — the round- 
 note syslem — in (he school, introducing Sunday-school 
 literal lire, and made the school so interesting that 
 jieojile came for miles evei'y Sunday, when the weath- 
 er was jiropitious, to hear the children sing. In this 
 connection might he interjiolated that he afterward 
 organiz(‘d a class of grown-up men and women for the 
 Sunday-schools at Louisiana, Missouri, and later, one 
 of the same sort at Howling (Ireeu, his present home. 
 
 The foregoing disiu-oves one of the jiopular fictions 
 coiiceruiiig Cliaiui) ( hark — that he was educated for the 
 ( 'hristian ministry. 
 
 In 18()T, at the age of seventeen, Champ Clark 
 entered the University of Kentucky, at Lexington. The 
 requisite money for tuition and other expenses he had 
 acciimnlated by teaching school. 
 
 Champ Clark was at Kentucky University three 
 years. His career there, as well as at other institu- 
 tions he attended, was characterized by application to 
 his studies and brilliancw in the class-room. He was 
 universally first in all his classes. 
 
 Mr. Clark, however, was not graduated from the 
 University, but at the end of three years he resumed the 
 vocation of teaching at the Camden [uiblic school. As 
 one of the queer experiences of a busy life, a man sixty- 
 four years old — a veteran teacher — went to school to 
 him to learn to read the Kew Testament in Greek. The 
 
CEAMP CLARK. 
 
 195 
 
 old man would hear Clark’s classes recite for two hours 
 daily iu exchange for one hour devoted by Clark to 
 teaching him Greek. During Clark’s three years in the 
 University he had become very proficient in the knowl- 
 edge of that ancient language. 
 
 An insatiable desire for higher education has al- 
 ways been one of the distinct traits of Champ Clark's 
 personality. So in 1872 he determined to resume his 
 collegiate studies, accordingly entering Bethany Col- 
 lege, located at Bethany, West Virginia. 
 
 With unusual power and persistence do the echoes 
 of the footsteps of men of genius linger in the halls of 
 learning. The great English University, Cambridge, 
 was first the Cambridge of Milton, then of Byron, and 
 lastly of Tennyson. In like manner Oxford has be- 
 come associated witli the names of ^Vddison, Arnold, 
 and Gladstone. In America we find many instances of 
 this. The University of Virginia is rich in memories of 
 Edgar Allen Toe, while the career of Eugene Field at 
 Colundjia has become one of Missouri University's 
 traditions. 
 
 80 , at Bethany College, is the record of Champ 
 ('lark’s career in that institution of learning, one that 
 is yet talked of by the students, faculty, and folk about, 
 and has since never been surpassed. 
 
 As stated, he entered Bethany College in 1872. On 
 July 15th of that year he arrived at Bethany. During 
 Ihe following year he took one-fourth the Sophomore 
 
196 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 year, one-lialf the Junior, and the full Senior, and stood 
 lirst in every class — a record probably unprecedented. 
 As lirst-honor man of a graduating class of twenty-six, 
 the duty of delivering the Latin Salutatoi\v devolved 
 upon Clark. In addition to his rank in the class-room. 
 Champ Clark was first in forensic ability and surpassed 
 by none in the literary exercises in which he partici- 
 pated. As a writer, even at that time, he began to as- 
 sume prominence by his contributions to various relig- 
 ious and political periodicals. It may not be generally 
 known, but at that period of his life he had attained 
 more than local distinction as a poet of genius. He 
 also translated coiisiderable German poetry into Eng- 
 lish metrical composition, which was published in 
 vanous publications under the nom de guerre “Sans 
 I-'eur.” 
 
 The local newspaper, in giving an account of the 
 commencement exercises of Bethany College, at the 
 time of Mr. Clark’s graduation, gave this biography of 
 him; “Chant]:* Clark, the honor man of the classical 
 cnurse, is a young man of marked talent and varied at- 
 tainments. He is 2.3 years of age, G feet 2 inches in 
 height, and is a hearty, robust young chap, and looks 
 
 the true chivalrous Kentuckian 
 
 He fitted himself for a teacher, and at the age of four- 
 teen commenced teaching in a rude, backwoods school- 
 house, where he was forced to carry a pair of biavies’ to 
 and from school to keep the old folks from ‘consuming 
 
CHAMP CLARE. 
 
 197 
 
 him.’ In 1867 he entered the Kentucky University, 
 where he studied three years and was universally first 
 in all the classes. After quitting the University, he 
 taught school for two years. On the 15th of July 
 last (1872), after many invitations from the faculty to 
 re-enter the Kentucky University, he arrived at Beth- 
 any. During the year he has taken one-fourth the 
 Sophomore year, oiie-half the Junior, and the full 
 Senior, and has stood first in every class. In the 
 future Mr. Clark intends to ])raotice law, and will, 
 from his proclivities and tastes, eventually become 
 a jioliticiaii. For him we predict a lirilliant future, 
 and every person who knows him (and all who know 
 him love him) will join with us in wishing that 
 Champ (dark may in the world do what he has done at 
 Bethany — viz., carry off the highest honors,” 
 
 A few days after he was graduated from Bethany, 
 Colonel Alexander Cami)hell, of AAst Virginia, sou of 
 the famous theologian, asked Clark what he intended 
 doing in the future. He replied that he was going to 
 teach a year or so and then practice law. He told Clark 
 to write out an application, give it to him, and he 
 thought he could secure a college ])residency for the 
 young graduate. Having no idea that such a thing was 
 possible, Clark wrote an application, which must have 
 taken away the breath of the college curators and 
 which, it is likely, on account of uniqueness and the 
 confidence expressed, secured him a position. The ap- 
 
198 
 
 FIVE FAM0V8 .MISSOURLANS. 
 
 plication read: “I liave just graduated at Bethany 
 
 willi highest honors, am 23 years old, over 0 feet high, 
 weigh 170 pounds, iiumai-ried, am a Kentuckian by 
 birtli, a Cami)bellite in religion, a Democrat in politics, 
 and a Master Mason.” 
 
 ]\Ir. Chuic did not secure the presidency of the 
 school, lV>st Libei-ty State Kornial, for wducli he had 
 applied, but was surprised a few days later when he 
 was notified that he had been elected, not president 
 of t^'est Lilierty, but of Marshall College, the first 
 noruud school of West Virginia, located at Hunting 
 ((tn, at a better salary. At this time he was but 
 Iweiity-three years of age, and umjuestionably the 
 youngest college president in the world. In 1899 John 
 Henry IMcCracken, of New York, at the age of tweuty- 
 foui', was elected ju-esident of Wstminster College at 
 Fulton, Mo. The newspapers of the country, in giving 
 the occasion wide ]tublicity and commenting upon the 
 youllifulness of the new president, stated that he was 
 the youngest man ever elected to a college presidency. 
 This statement was certainly erroneous, foi' Mr. Clark 
 was one 3 'ear the junior of I’resident McCracken. 
 
 Because of Clark's youth, a number of the students 
 at Marshall, some of whom were older than the pres- 
 ident, concluded that they could conduct themselves to 
 suit their own fancies, but this conclusion proved an 
 illusion. Clark soon undeceived them. 
 
CHAMP CLARE. 
 
 199 
 
 Oue incident served to dispel the students’ hope of 
 many “larks” under the Clark regime. Soon after his 
 term began, four young men blacked and greased the 
 face of a fellow-student while he slept, an act that 
 greatly humiliated the victim. He made complaint to 
 the young president, who, upon investigation, discov- 
 ered the guilty ones. Hunting up the perpetrators, he 
 said: “Boys, you did wrong, and you must do the man- 
 
 ly thing and apologize publicly at chapel exercises.” 
 Three of them did so cheerfully, but the fourth declared 
 that he would not. President Clark said to him; “One 
 of three things will happen — you will apologize public- 
 ly, I will expel you publicly, or I will thrash you within 
 an inch of your life.” To this the student rejdied with 
 a question, “How much time will you give me to reflect 
 upon these propositions?” “One hour, sir,” answered 
 the president. At the expiration of the allotted time, 
 the offender returned and said: “I don't want to be 
 
 exi)elled; I don't want to tight; I will apologize.’’ He 
 did, and henceforth was one of the president's staunch- 
 est friends and most industrious students. There was 
 no more trouble in maintaining discipline. 
 
 Champ Clark held the presidency of Marshall Col- 
 lege but one year when he resigned to enter the 
 Cincinnati Law School. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 KART.Y STRUGGLES AND ULTIMATE SUCCESS. 
 
 —HE BECOMES A MISSOURIAN 
 BY ADOPTION. 
 
 It was ill 1874 that Champ Clark bef^aii the study of 
 law at Ciuciiiiiati. He remained a student at the Law 
 School for one year; then, upon graduation from the 
 Cincinnati institul ion, lie determined to locate in 
 Kansas. 
 
 In the law class at Cincinnati was a. man several 
 years older than Clark, named Thomas Jefferson Hud 
 son, popularly called Jeff Hudson, from Fredonia, 
 Kansas. Before coming to the law school, Hudson 
 had been a member of the Kansas Legislature and 
 prosecuting attorney of his county and had built uji a 
 good law pi-actice. While they were attending law 
 school in the winter of 1874 u, as Mr. Clark once styled 
 it, “Gen. Phil Sheridan was jiitching a Democratic 
 legislature out of the window with his liayonets down 
 in New Orleans.” The law lectures were at night, and 
 aftei’ they were over, the students would resolve them- 
 selves into a politi<-al debating society, characterized 
 by the rivalry and intense interest manifested. Bryan, 
 of Covington, Kentucky, afterwards lieutenant-gov- 
 ernor of that State, Jeff Hudson, and Champ Clark 
 
CHAMP CLARE. 
 
 201 
 
 were conspicuously among those who upheld the Dem 
 ocratic side, and, although outnumbered three to one, 
 they fought these battles with a forensic fierceness un- 
 precedented. A fellow-feeling makes men “wondrous 
 kind” and congenial. Hudson and Clark became fast 
 friends, and as a result the former proposed to Clark 
 to go to Fredouia and assume a law partnership, agree- 
 ing to give Clark one-third the profits the first year and 
 one-half every year thereafter. Mr. Clark accepted, 
 and started to Kansas “to grow' up with the country,’’ 
 yet he never went to Fredouia — in fact, has never seen 
 the town. 
 
 He sto]iped at Eni})oria to visit a man named Lynn, 
 a Kentucky University class-mate. He induced Clark 
 to believe that Adchita was a veritable paradise for 
 lawyers. To use his words, “Wichita is the center of 
 the Texas cattle trade. Greasers are constantly cut- 
 ting each other's throats and Spanish milled dollars 
 are rolling around loose.” With the enthusiasm of 
 youth, Clark wrote to Hudson, cancelled their partner- 
 ship, and went to Wichita. Arriving there, he dis- 
 C(»vered that ihe Texas cattle trade, like the Levite, had 
 gone by on the other sid<^ — to Great Bend; the festive, 
 throat-cutting Greaser was non esf, and the Spanish 
 milled dollars were scarce as living Spaniards in Monte- 
 jo's th^et after the battle of Manila. In fact, at that 
 time, A\ i( hita. was experiencing her first financial de 
 pression, and the prospect of a grasshopper plague made 
 
202 
 
 FITE F AMOVE MISEOURIAFE. 
 
 everybody restless and most anxious to get away. To 
 be laconic, Mr. Clark “got”; going on twenty-live dol- 
 lars, wliicli a student at Kentucky University sent liim 
 for writing the collegian a graduating speech. 
 
 Of his eleven weeks’ residence in Kansas, Mr. Clark, 
 growing reminiscent, once said: “The grasshoppers 
 
 drove me out of the Sunflower State. That was the 
 year Grovernor Hardin prayed them out of Missouri. 
 People can make fun of that performance as much as 
 they please; but I believe that prayers are ausw'ered 
 and that the prayers of Missourians saved the State 
 from devastation by the Rocky Mountain pests.”' 
 
 Clark did not see Jett Hudson again until the ses- 
 sions of the Fifty-third Congress, when they sat side by 
 side in Congress and fought together the same battles 
 Ihey fought in pairs in that improvised political de- 
 bating societ3" in the Cincinnati Law School. 
 
 For once l\Ir. Clark was disconcerted in his enthusi- 
 asm foi- Ihe ]>rofession, and determined to abandon its 
 l>ractice, temporarily at least, and re-engage in teach- 
 ii)g. He came to ^lobeiiy, iMissouri, not knowing a 
 dozen ])cople in the State and not knowng where they 
 were located. He was iiractically penniless and began 
 to searcli for a school. He found one at Reuick, Ran 
 dolph County, at tifty-tive dollars a month. He ex- 
 plained to the directors that he would not have it save 
 for the fact that he did not possess a cent. They were 
 kind enough to insert a clause in the contract releasing 
 
CHAMP CLARE. 
 
 203 
 
 him, provided he could get a better position, which he 
 did and purely by accident. The man (named Ruther- 
 ford) to whom he went for a certificate was a native 
 of Pike County, and when Clark exhibited his diplomas, 
 certificates, etc., said: “You are very foolish to accept 
 
 that school. Judge Orr, of Louisiana, Missouri, was 
 here to-day, and he told me that Professor Osborn had 
 l)een elected president of the Warrensl)urg Normal, 
 thereby leaving the superiutendency of the Louisiana 
 schools vacant. It is worth flSOO a year. Go down 
 and get it.” Clark went, got the second place at .flOO 
 a month, and taught one year. This was in 1875. In 
 the spring of 18TG he quit teaching for the remainder 
 of his life. As a teacher in Louisiana, Champ Clark was 
 efficient and gave complete satisfaction. In reminisc- 
 ing over his (last life, Mr. Clark says his school-teaching 
 days were his happiest. In an address before an as- 
 semblage of teachers he once said : 
 
 “In looking back to my career as a teacher, I have 
 one abiding consolation and it is this: Wherever 
 
 my pupils are, by land or sea, and in whatever oc- 
 cupation they are employed, they are my sworn 
 friends. That glory cannot l)e taken away from 
 me. I hear one of them j^reach occasionally, and 
 I take jjride in the fact that some people say he speaks 
 like me. When I was in the crisis of my political 
 career, another, voluntarily and without being asked, 
 sent me more money than any other three men in 
 
204 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOVRTAFS. 
 
 the State, and wouldn’t even take my note as evidence 
 of the debt. Such pupils are a joy forever. 
 
 “I sometimes regret that I ever quit teaching, for 
 while I have succeeded fairly well in both law and poli- 
 tics, a lawyer is not always certain that he has ren- 
 dered the State a service by acquitting his client, and 
 a congressman, through ignorance or inadvertence, 
 may vote in such a way as to adversely affect the for- 
 tunes of 70,000,000 people; but a teaclier knows that he 
 is doing good when teaching the alphabet, Ihe ninlli- 
 plication table, and the rudiments of grammar and 
 geography. It is oiil}'- wdien he strikes history that his 
 feet get into Ihe (piicksands.” 
 
 Thus it was that Chaiiq) Clark came to locate in Pike 
 County, INIissouii, a county rich in history and liistor- 
 ical characters. It existed before Missouri as a State 
 was formed and admitted to the Union, and ever since 
 ‘‘Joe Bowers and his brother Ike came all the way from 
 Pike” its name has been known to all the civilized 
 world. 
 
 In the summer of 1876, during the heated Tilden- 
 Hayes campaign, Mr. Clark edited the Louisiana Daily 
 News with his usual ability and perspicacity. 
 
 Although he tried one law-suit in a justice court at 
 Cincinnati while attending law school, which he gained 
 and of which lie was very proud, and although he filed 
 one petition in the district court at AVichita, he never 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 205 
 
 really began practicing law until the sninmer of 1876, 
 at Louisiana, after his school closed. 
 
 As most law}'ers of experience will testify, the law 
 is abont the slowest of all professions in which to get a 
 start. IVebster's splendiferous dictum, ‘“There is room 
 at the top”- — which is partly fallacious — induces many 
 a stout young fellow to waste several of the best 3 ’ears 
 of life practically starving, while waiting for a practice. 
 Getting a start in Tike Countj“ in 1876-7-8 was an aggra- 
 vatingly tedious process, for there were twice as many 
 lawyers — good ones, too — as the legal business justi- 
 tied. Clark endeavored to practice for three years be- 
 fore he secured a case out of which Daniel tVebster, 
 ratiick Henry, or even Ben Hardin could have made 
 any reputation, could they have returmul to earth in 
 the prime of life. 
 
 In October, 1876, during the Tilden-Hayes cam- 
 paign, it so happened that David A. Ball and Chainj) 
 Clark together made a stumxjing tour of Bike County. 
 One result of that association was that Ball and Clark 
 formed a partnership, beginning January 1, 1877, and 
 continuing for fourteen months, when they dissolved 
 partnership by mutual consent and with mutual good- 
 will, Ball to run for prosecuting attorney of Bike Conn- 
 t}', Clark to make the race for representative from the 
 Eastern District of Bike County. In the Democratic 
 primary that preceded this race, Clark defeated Hugh 
 C. Duffy, who was afterwards in the Legislature, but at 
 
206 
 
 FlYE FAMOUS MISSOUIlIAFfS. 
 
 the general election he was defeated by Enoch Pepper, 
 now of Los Angeles, California. This was in 1878, the 
 year of the Greenback enthusiasm, and Pepper’s Green- 
 back proclivities, aided by a Eepublican alliance, occa- 
 sioned Mr. Clark’s defeat. The position of the Demo- 
 cratic nominee for Congress had largely to do with the 
 defeat of Clark. The congressional candidate was op- 
 posed to the position taken very largely by the people 
 of the county, and his position weakened candidates 
 for legislative offices. 
 
 The law partnership of Clark and Ball ended March 
 1, 1878. Since that time they have been the closest 
 friends. In their political encounters and canvasses 
 each has assisted the other in all ways honorable, and 
 naturally their relations have ever been friendly and 
 harmonions. Of their early struggles as lawyers and 
 his appreciation of Mr. Ball’s character and ability, Mr. 
 Clark has said; “Though Ball had been practicing two 
 or three years at the time we dissolved partnership, 
 and though he is now one of the best trial lawyers in 
 Missouri, has a large and lucrative practice, and has 
 won triumphs in the Supreme Court of which any law- 
 yer may be proud, at that time it was very short graz 
 ing with us. The Pike County bar has always been 
 strong. At that time it was unusually so, having upon 
 its rolls sixty-seven licensed lawyers, about forty of 
 them in more or less active practice. Ball was elected 
 prosecuting attorney, State senator, and became lieu- 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 207 
 
 teiiaut-govei-iioi-. He is destined for higher honors. A 
 more generous man never lived, wliile in his vocabulary 
 there is no such word as fail.” 
 
 Clark's ])redilectiou for newspaper work again 
 manifested itself, and on October 1, 1879, he bought the 
 Jlicerside Press, of Louisiana, from J. C. Jamison, 
 Hitherto the Press had been an independent imper, but 
 Clark converted it into an organ of pure Democracy. 
 For eleven months he successfully edited the publica- 
 tion. It sparkled with scintillating wit, was dignified 
 with logic, and re]:)lete with the many original adapta- 
 tions of the figures of i-hetoric which none other than 
 ( 'hamp (Park can apply. His reputation as a writei- at 
 this time became more than provincial. The paper 
 attained a wide circulation under his editorship. 
 
 Of Ml'. Clark's disposition and character several 
 stories of incidents occurring about this period of his 
 life are told. 
 
 Those who knew him best in those days liked him 
 best. His intimate friends generously i-egarded and 
 considered him a true man. He was generous to the 
 last degree. His friends have often seen him borrow 
 money to give to beggars, then work to repay the debt. 
 When approached by alms-seekers, he would listen to 
 their tales and gruffly tell them to wait a minute, then 
 borrow what he desired to give them, if he did not then 
 possess it, and hand the amount to the beggars with a 
 
 — 14 — 
 
208 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MISSOURI AFS. 
 
 snarl; but lie was always as liberal as liis means 
 permitted. 
 
 Pike County in those days was peopled with varied 
 sorts of cdiaractei'S and many instances show that the 
 times had not quite cooled from the stirring scenes of 
 bordei- and ]>ioneer days. David A. Ball tells the 
 following anecdote with great glee, as indicating 
 I he method ]\Ir. Clark had of dealing with obstreper- 
 ous l*ike Conntians: “Adien Champ Clark and I 
 
 were partners in 1ST7,’’ says Mi“. Ball, “he kejit me 
 fi-om getting an awful thrashing. Clark was an 
 nnnsnally tine specimen of physical manhood in those 
 days, tall, athletic, without a pound of surplus flesh, 
 and with muscles of steel. He was just out of school, 
 where, among other things, he had practiced in gym- 
 nasinms foi* hours daily at every exercise intended to 
 develoj) strength, including boxing. Like most Ken- 
 tuckians, he was fond of a i^istol and always kept two 
 or three on hand. One day three big rough fellows, 
 who had taken offense at me about a law-suit, came into 
 the oflice and picked a fuss with me. They cursed and 
 abused me for ten minutes, during which Clark was sit- 
 ting at his desk, pretending to read a book and a]»- 
 parently taking no interest in the rumpus. I did not 
 know whether he would help me out or not, conseipient- 
 ly I did not talk back to the fellows very much. At 
 last they concluded to give me a beating and advanced 
 towards me. Quick as a flash, Clark pulled open the 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 209 
 
 drawer of his table, exposing two glittering pistols to 
 the view of my would-be assailants and yelled; ‘Hi-yi, 
 yon ruffians! I do the fighting for this firm and I ’ll 
 give yon just three seconds to get out of here, or I ’ll 
 throw 3 'ou out of the window and break your necks!’ 
 Within the limit he allowed, those fellows were going 
 down stairs three steps at a jump. Clark shut up the 
 drawer with a grim smile and resumed his reading. I 
 thought then he was the handsomest man I ever saw. 
 He has long since given up carrying pistols, but I was 
 glad he had them that day.” 
 
 After Clark and Ball dissolved partnership, until 
 December, 1880, Clark practiced law alone at Louisiana. 
 For four or five weeks he was in partnership with Judge 
 Chappell G. White, now of Eureka Springs, Arkansas. 
 That partnershix) was ended by White’s removal to Van- 
 dalia. For twenty-five months of his residence in 
 Louisiana, Clark was ciW attorney of that place. He 
 resigned the attorneyship because, he says, it was weari- 
 some prosecuting j)eople for petty offenses. 
 
 In 1878, as stated, David A. Ball became a candidate 
 for xn-osecuting attorney. Matt G. Reynolds was Mr. 
 Ball’s competitor for this office — undoubtedly the 
 greatest to which a county can elect a man. It requires 
 a goodlj' amount of courage, common sense, and in- 
 dusti\y, coupled with a fair knowledge of the law, and 
 a general knowledge of everything else, including 
 human nature, to make an ideal prosecuting attor- 
 
210 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MIE80VRIAF8. 
 
 ney. Ball was the Democratic nominee; Reynolds 
 was the nominee of tlie Greenbackers, with the Repub- 
 lican endorsement and a, larj>e and powerful family 
 connection also to aid him. Both weie splendid cam- 
 ]»aigners, and it was a most spirited race from begin- 
 ning to end. 
 
 A few days before the election, down in Calumet 
 Township, a most fertile region and where there are 
 more negroes to the same area than anywhere in north- 
 ern iMissouri, a colored man named Jerry Hill killed 
 another negro. The murdered man was of powerful 
 ]diysi(jue, strong as Sandow, who was not afraid of 
 anyone and who had thrashed several negroes and a 
 few whites, lie had become a local terror and a num- 
 ber of ])eople had talked it around that anybody who 
 would kill him would be hailed as a public benefactor. 
 Jerry Hill took them at their word and killed him. As 
 there are about a thousand negro votes in Bike County 
 — quite an item in a close contest — both Reynolds and 
 Ball volunteered to defend Jerry, each hoping thereby 
 to bag the coloi-ed vote and to make sure his own call 
 ing and election. Ball was elected, but his volunteer- 
 ing to defend Hill, of course, disqualitied him from pros- 
 ecuting in that jtarticular case. As Ball had defeated 
 the prosecuting attorney, Edwaial T. vSmith, for the 
 nominal ion, Mr. Smith refused to prosecute Jerry after 
 his term expired. So Judge Porter ai)pointed Champ 
 Clark to prosecute the case. 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 211 
 
 Xobodj tliouglit there was au^hhing in the case. 
 The prisoner's bail had been fixed at three hundred dol- 
 lars; but Clark had nothing to do and he studied that 
 case as he never has studied before or since. He did 
 what is rarely done or what can be rarely done in a law 
 case — wrote out thirty ininntes of exordium and thirty 
 minutes of peroration — applicable to most any murder 
 case, and, what is more, committed them to memory. 
 He set-ured a first-class jury and prosecuted the case as 
 though his own life were at stake as well as the prison- 
 er's. When the time came for argument, Clark felt 
 confident of a conviction and he spoke that prepared 
 speech, together with a good deal that he had not pre- 
 l)ared, with all the grace and power of delivery he 
 could command. The court-house was crowded, a situ- 
 ation which greatly increased his zeal. The jury was 
 out about half an hour and brought in a verdict of 
 murder in the first degree — to the utter amazement of 
 most persons in the county. 
 
 Though the case was reversed and remanded by the 
 Supreme Court because the jury was allowed to sepa- 
 i-ate, and though Clark permitted Jerry to plead guilty 
 to murder in the second degree and take a twenty-five 
 years' sentence because Judge Porter informed him 
 that he would not instruct for murder in the first de- 
 gree, the conduct of that case by Champ Clark gave 
 him a standing at the bar and was the beginning of a 
 good practice. It took him twenty j'ears to convince 
 
212 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 some people tliat he ever again made so good a speech 
 in a murder case as he did on that occasion, though he 
 has certainly made a dozen better. 
 
 It is most certainly true that upon seemingly the 
 most trivial incidents depend the success or failure of 
 a career. Without doubt the accident of Ball’s dis- 
 ipialifying himself to prosecute after election by volun- 
 teering to defend Jerry Hill before election kept Champ 
 Clark in Pike County, for he could not much longer 
 have endured the “starving process,” as he once re- 
 ferred to those days. Had he left Pike County, it was 
 his intention to again engage himself as a teacher, and 
 Champ Clark, the lawyer, orator, and wit of future 
 years, would perhaps have been unknown. 
 
 Already he had a reputation as an orator and his 
 position on the newspaper made him a reimtation as a 
 writer of exceptional ability. He made several cam- 
 paigns over the county; was an eloquent speaker even 
 at this time, and received many compliments upon his 
 oratorical ability. 
 
 Clark was editor of the Riverside Press at Louisiana 
 until September 1, 1880. 
 
 In December, 1880, he removed to Bowling Green, 
 the county seat of Pike County, to serve as assistant 
 prosecuting attorney under Ball, who, as has been 
 stated, was elected in 1878. The year of his removal 
 to Bowling Green (1880), Mr. Clark served as presiden- 
 tial elector on the Hancock and English ticket. 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 213 
 
 Shortly after his removal to Bowling Green, he was 
 made city attorney of the town, and later resigned the 
 otiice for the same reasons that he resigned the city 
 attorneyship of Louisiana; however, nntil January 1, 
 1883, he remained in office as assistant prosecutor of 
 the county. 
 
 Clark's editorials in lighter vein published in local 
 newspapers were characterized by the adverseness f»f 
 I heir writer to marriage and marriageable young ladies; 
 in fact, many of the uewspai:)er men in near-by towns 
 styled him a misogynist, or at least one having little 
 faith in and love for the female constitution. But 
 whatever his adverse views on matrimony, there came 
 to Louisiana, after Clark quit teaching, a young woman 
 from Callaway County, who had been employed as a 
 teacher in the public schools. She was then Miss Gene- 
 vieve Bennett, but soon thereafter (December 14, 1881) 
 l)ecame Mrs. Champ Clark, and Clark no longer ]»os 
 sessed such an antipathy for marriage as was charged to 
 him shortly before. 
 
 In 1883, David A. Ball retired from the prosecutor- 
 ship and practiced law in Louisiana. Clark at this 
 time was practicing in Bowling Green. Both were 
 still fast friends and assisted each other greatly. Ball, 
 being in a fairly good practice for a country lawyer, 
 aided Clark materially by dividing as much of his 
 practice as he could with him. 
 
214 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MI8S0VFIANS. 
 
 Olai-k’s i‘ei)utatiou as an oiutor was steadily increas- 
 ing, until he was known all over eastern Missouri as 
 one ot the ablest speakers in that section. 
 
 In 188h, he entered into a law partnership with 
 Jose]di Tapley, ot Howling (ireen, the partnership con- 
 1 inning nnlil 1887. 
 
 In 1881, ]\lr. Clark was a candidate for the prosecnt- 
 ing attorneyship of Pike Comity and the same yeai' 
 David A. Ball sought the office of State senator. Find- 
 ing out that attempts would be made by the opposition 
 to defeat both candidates at the primaries, they allied 
 themselves and determined to win or lose together. 
 The result of this spirited canvas was that Clark's 
 majority in the primaries was 1,250 and Ball’s 1,500. 
 
 Clark’s record as prosecuting attorney of Piki* 
 County was a, memorable one and was characterized by 
 the vigor with which he upheld the law and prosecuted 
 all its violators. A story illustrating his use of his 
 forensic and oratorical ability while prosecutor is 
 related. 
 
 During the time he held the office of county at- 
 torney, a man naimsl Latimer shot and killed a man 
 naim-d Griffith. Imtimer was a popular citizen, while 
 the mui'dered imin was decidedly unjHjpular. Ihe evi- 
 dence against Latimer was circumstantial testimony 
 and scarcely any of that, but when the time came ba 
 the cause to be argued, Clark prepared to make a tre- 
 mendous effort to sway not only public opinion, but the 
 
CHAMP CLARE. 
 
 215 
 
 jury also, by a strong speech prosecutiug Latimei-. 
 The court-house was filled on the closing day of the 
 trial, probably five or six hundred people being there. 
 Of this number perhaps not more than two or three in 
 the room were in sympatln' with the i»rosecution, the 
 remainder wanting Latimer to be set at liberty. Clark 
 arose to close for the State. He saw jilainly that he 
 was contending against heavy odds, yet began to make 
 a vigorous denunciation of Latimer in a crowd com- 
 posed of the accused man’s friends. To illustrate the 
 power of his eloquence, he had been speaking scarcely 
 ail half-hour before the crowd of Latimer partisans 
 liroke into prolonged applause at one of Clark’s light- 
 ning-like arguments directed against the head of Lat- 
 imer. The Court became angry at this disiilay of lack 
 of court etiquette on the part of the crowd and severe!}- 
 rebuked the applause. Clark waited for the excite- 
 ment to subside, then, after talking twenty minutes, he 
 reaclied the climax iii his arraignment, at which the 
 crowd shouted terrifically, fairly shaking the building 
 with its thunderous applause, for few such speeches 
 had ever been heard in the court room of Pike County. 
 1 )es])airingly the Court gave u[) the attempt and made 
 no effort to restrain the great demonstration. Despite 
 this masterful speech-making effort of Clark’s, made in 
 the face of lack of evidence, the jury cleared Latimer, 
 as it wavs practically forced to do, because of the insuf- 
 ticient proof. 
 
216 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Clark continued in the office of prosecuting attorney 
 until January 1, 1889. In tlie meanwliile (1888) the 
 people of Pike County elected him as their representa- 
 tive in the Missouri Legislature. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 A GKAXD JURY’S DOMINATION.— SERVICE IN 
 THE LEGISEATURE.— THE UNIVERSITY 
 FIGHT.— CLARK-NORTON EEUD.— 
 ELECTION TO CONGRESS.— 
 TAMMANY HALL 
 SPEECH. 
 
 Champ Clark can claim a distinction to which, in all 
 I)roha])ility, no other man, living or dead, can lay claim. 
 He was nominated for an oflice by a grand jury, in the 
 spring of 1888, toward the close of his term as prosecut- 
 ing attorney. Not only was he nominated in such an 
 unusual way, but from that session of the Pike Counts" 
 Grand J ury went out the propaganda which resulted in 
 Mr. Clark's election to the Missouri Legislature and the 
 opening of a brilliant legislative career, which has since 
 become famous. 
 
 The Circuit Court of Pike County began the first 
 Monday in March, 1888. Judge John McCune, for 
 twenty years a county judge of Pike County, was fore- 
 man of the grand jury. As the jury completed its 
 work, the foreman spoke to l\Ir. Clark, saying, “Clark, 
 how would you like to go to the Legislature?” The 
 prosecutor said he thought his prospects for a good 
 
218 
 
 FIVE FAM0V8 MISSOURIANS. 
 
 and liicTalive law i)racitice were too Hattering for 
 liiui to enter jtolitics again. '“lint it is a revising 
 session," diidge iMcCnne argued, “and von must go. 
 The people ^\ant yon to go, and if yon refuse to serve 
 them now, they may refuse yon something on which 
 yon setyoni heart in the future." AN'herenpon he turned 
 to the grand jury and said: “All who are in favor of 
 
 l\!i‘. Clark going to the Legislature say ‘Aye’; those o]>- 
 posed, ‘A’o.’ ■’ The vote was unanimous, although an 
 intensely bitter Kepublican was on the grand jury. So 
 Mr. Clark was nominated by a grand jury for the Legis- 
 lature, an office he did not want. 
 
 The nominee regarded the performance as a joke, 
 but Foreman i\lc(tune and the jurors did not. They 
 staid ed a movement among the people which soon be- 
 came irresistible }»ressure. The propagators of Clark's 
 boom jiersuaded three out of four avowed candidates to 
 withdraw, and announced Clark’s candidacy in the 
 county papers, ])aying the fees themselves. At the en- 
 suing county jiriinary election, the grand jury’s irreg- 
 ulai- nominal ion was ratified, while Clark himself, with 
 (diaracteristic inditference, was at home working in his 
 garden during the greater part of the day. 
 
 INIr. Clark had not asked a man to vote for him, nor 
 had he intimated that he wanted to go to the Legisla- 
 ture, simply assuring his supporters that he would 
 serve if nominated and elected. 
 
CEAMP GLARE. 
 
 219 
 
 Of his nomiuation aud electiou, Mr. Clark once said 
 reminiscently: “I prize it greatly, as it was a yoluntary 
 gift from those Ayho knew me best. Sometimes I think 
 that political position is worth haying only when it 
 comes as did mj election to the Legislature in 1888.” 
 ^Ir. Clark has of late years said that he was tiring 
 of strife in political ri^■alry; that he used to think, 
 “when in the days of his callow youth, ” that he did not 
 want a nomination or election to any office unless it 
 came after a long, hard siege aud with great opposition, 
 hut after experience had taught him the cost of strife in 
 elections, he wanted, or at least preferred to receiye nom- 
 inations without opposition, as came this nomination in 
 1888. HoweA'er, seyeral years elapsed before he con- 
 yerted himself entirely to this way of thinking, eyen 
 after his nomination for the Legislature. His battles 
 were many and his Auctories mingled with defeats, and 
 all with terrible strain and at the sacrifice of great 
 energy and effort, before he grew to the opinion of 
 Thomas B. Reed, whose words in his A aledictoiw to the 
 people of the First Maine District haye often been 
 ((noted by iNfr. Clark since the big Yankee Republican 
 deliyered them : “Office as a ribbon to stick in your coat 
 is worth nobody’s consideration. Office as an oppor- 
 tunity is worth all consideration.” Offices haye come 
 to Champ Clark a number of times as badges of great 
 political A'ictories, but the grand jury’s nomination 
 came. to him as an opportunity. How well the oppor- 
 
220 
 
 FITE F AMOVE MISSOURIANS. 
 
 tunity was used is evidenced by the steady growth of 
 his reputation and fame down to the present time. 
 
 During the summer of 1888, Mr. Clark stepped into 
 undisputed fame as an orator from the hour in which he 
 aroused the Democratic State Convention with one of 
 his characteristic spurts of brilliancy in nominating 
 David A. Ball for lieutenant-governor. As Lord Byron 
 said, “I woke one morning and found myself famous,’’ 
 with truth could Clark say that he went to the State 
 Convention without the least idea of attracting any 
 extraordinary attention, and a day or two later stepped 
 into fame of State proportions as an orator of power 
 and wonderful influence over a bod.y of men. 
 
 On August 22d the State Convention met and nomi- 
 nated David R. Francis for governor, after having wit- 
 nessed no remarkable displays of oratorical ability by 
 any of the many speakers. TJie time came for the nom- 
 ination of a candidate for lieutenant-governor, and 
 (dark, known only to a few of the delegates, with an ac- 
 (piaintance spreading over only two or three counties in 
 the State, delivered a set, carefully-prepared speech, 
 nominating his life-long friend. Senator Ball, then serv- 
 ing as lieutenant-govenior and a candidate for election 
 to that office. His first words seized the convention’s at- 
 tention, and before he uttered many more sentences the 
 entire assembly was in a furore of enthusiastic excite- 
 ment. The speech was replete with sarcasm,’ wit, and 
 eloquence. He captured the ear of the convention and 
 
GEAMP GLARE. 
 
 221 
 
 was carried into prominence as the ablest convention 
 orator of the year. The daily papers of the State ex- 
 ploited his speech as the oratorical feature of the Con- 
 vention. He assnmed a position as an orator shared 
 by few in the eyes of the Convention. 
 
 Later on in the session of the Convention he ap- 
 peared to speak extempore in nominating General 
 Jamison for register of lands, and was' received with 
 nproarions applause, and climbed another notch higher 
 as an orator. 
 
 During the campaign of 1888, Clark was much in de 
 mand. He went with the nominee for governor, David 
 K. Francis, all over the Sthte, and everywhere cap 
 lined the attention of the crowds and won the admira- 
 tion of the whole State. No campaign orator was more 
 eagerly sought. 
 
 At the November election the entire Democratic 
 ticket was elected in Missouri and Pike County, and 
 Clark was sent to the Legislature from Pike County, 
 after having spent ten years in the pursuit of his pro- 
 fession since his defeat in 1878. 
 
 As the opening of the Thirty-fifth General Assembly 
 of Missouri approached, he loomed into greater promi- 
 nence than ever before. He was proposed and urged 
 as a prospective candidate for speaker of the House; 
 then, a few daj’s before the session began, he was re- 
 garded as practically certain to be chosen speaker pro 
 tern., but, for reasons of his own, he declined to become 
 
222 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MIESOVIUAFE. 
 
 a oanrliclate either for speaker or speaker pro tern., al- 
 tliongli his candidacy for either place would have 
 broken all slates and in all probability have resulted in 
 his preferment. 
 
 Mr. Clark announced that he preferred to be a hard- 
 working member than either speaker or speaker pro 
 tern., and his name was instantly connected with the im- 
 portant committees as a prospective chairman. 
 
 At the Democratic caucus to nominate candidates 
 for offices of the House, Mr. (dark won the laurels of 
 an oi'ator by a short, witty, and uni(iue nominating 
 speech wliicli captivated the House, just as his Ball 
 and Jamison speeches had won for him the admiring 
 attention of the Ktate Democi-atic Convention. Mr. 
 ( lark was asked to place in nomination for chaplain 
 Keverend Peter Trone, of Henry County, and in doing 
 so brought down the House and unquestionably se- 
 cured the election of the venerable minister. 
 
 This speech was one of Clark’s happiest efforts. It 
 wgs widely quoted among the papers and people of Mis- 
 souri and attained fame for the s])eech and speaker, 
 which the latter had undoubtedly not expected. It 
 was delivered in Clark’s usual inanner and worded 
 in much the same style that won national fame for 
 the Tammany Hall speech. Clark’s description and 
 personal references to his respected candidate for 
 chaplain were esi»eciaily unique and quoted in all parts 
 
CHAMP CLARE. 
 
 223 
 
 of the State. Keferriug to Reverend Trone, Mr. Clark 
 said: 
 
 “Born on the soil of Virginia, his parents brought 
 him, as a babe in arms, to Missouri, when it was still 
 the habitat of the red Indian and the wild beast, and he 
 has done liis full part in laying the broad foundations 
 of this mighty State. He was a pioneer farmer and a 
 frontier blacksmith. A leonine soldier of Joe Shelby, 
 the bosom friend of Major Edwards, honored and be- 
 loved by all who ever looked into his honest e.yes. At 
 the close of the war, he returned to his little farm, poor 
 as Lazarus, to hud his home in ashes and his^ wife and 
 children huddled in a negro cabin. He didn’t 'vvliine. 
 He doesn't belong to that school of soldiers. He spent 
 no time in crying over spilt milk; he had too much 
 sense for that. Bravely and resolutely, he took up the 
 burdens of life — without vain regrets on account of the 
 inevitable. Early and late upon his anvil he celebrated 
 the jubilee of peace. Industriously he tickled with the 
 hoe the rich face of a Henry County farm and it smiled 
 with abundant harvest. Joyfully and liberally obey- 
 ing the scriptui-al injunction to ‘multiply and replenish 
 the earth,' he has the honor to be the proud and happy 
 father of eleven Missouri Democrats. 
 
 “In naming him, placid and majestic Northeast 
 Missouri sends hearty greeting to the glowing and 
 gorgeous Southwest; the old and historic county of 
 Pike clasps hands with the young and ambitious 
 
 — 15 — 
 
224 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 comity of Henry; the kid Democrats bow their pro- 
 foiindest acknowh‘dgments to the veterans of the Old 
 Onard; the running-water Campbellite backs tlie 
 shouting Methodist. I jiresent for your suffrages the 
 name of Keverend Peter H. Trone.” 
 
 Of course Trone was nominated and elected. After 
 the roars of applause and laughter that had greeted 
 Clark’s speech, nothing^ could have beaten him. 
 
 Immediately after the organization of the House, 
 8)»eaker J. J. Kussell, of Mississipjii County, appointed 
 INIr. Clark chairman of the Committee on Criminal 
 Jurisjn udence, for which position Mr. Clark was espi'- 
 cially fitted, having just completed four years’ tenure 
 in the office of prosecuting attorney. 
 
 The great event of this session was the re-organiza- 
 tion of the Missouri State Dniversity, which placed the 
 leading educational institution of Missouri among the 
 foremost in the land. In this great fight for the Uni- 
 versity’s reorganization, Mr. (i’lark, with his powers of 
 logic, his withering sarcasm, his relentless and deter- 
 mined sjiirit, his searching inquiries, his keen and prac- 
 tical judgment in things i»ertaining to educational 
 work, and withal his blunt and candid manner, was ad- 
 mitted to be the leader in the fight, which resulted in 
 the resignation of Dr. Laws and the retirement of Pro- 
 fessoi' Sanborn, dean of the Agricultural College. Mr. 
 Clark’s crusade for the reorganization of the Missouri 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 225 
 
 T'liiversity made him feared as was none other, when 
 opposition to his plans was contemplated. 
 
 The contest opened with a resolntion for the investi- 
 "■ation of the State Agricultural School, olfered by 
 Itepresentative W'ebb, of Jackson County, on January 
 22d. Mr. Clark at once took a prominent part in the 
 matter, and offered a substitute for the resolution of 
 Mr. M'ebb, the substitute providing for an investiga- 
 tion of the State University simultaneously with the 
 Agricultural School. On the following day the House 
 and Senate adopted resolutions similar to the substi- 
 tute offered by Mr. Clark, and the member from Pike 
 County was made chairman of the committee which 
 made the investigation, resulting in the renovation of 
 both institutions. The investigation proved many of 
 the charges preferred against Dr. Laws and Prof. San- 
 born to be well founded, and the result was the resig- 
 nation of both. 
 
 The University light was one of the most bitter ever 
 known in the history of the Missouri Legislature. It 
 culminated beneficently, clearing the great State ed- 
 ucational institution of all obstacles in the way of 
 its progress and jilacing it in positions and under 
 management that have made, the school as successful 
 as any State university in the United States. His 
 friends assert, and his enemies admit, that this largely 
 was the work of Champ Clark, whose warfare upon 
 the management of the State University has become 
 
226 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 memorable and was pointed to a successful end. His 
 interest in educational matters led to the position he 
 took, and the fact that the Missouri University ranks 
 to day among tlie best in the United States proves that 
 Champ Clark’s service in the Missouri Legislature was 
 (iniely, Ids vigorous work perhaps saving the much- 
 cherislu d iiistilution from ruin. 
 
 An associate of J\Ir. Clark in the Legislature refers 
 to him as the ablest debater then in the Missouri Legis- 
 lature and the hardest worker in committees. 
 
 Clark it was w'ho introduced and forced to a passage 
 the bill assessing express companies 2 per cent of their 
 gross earnings, whose constitutionality was tested and 
 sustained in the courts. From this Clark bill alone, 
 thousands of dollars in revenue are annually paid to 
 the State of Missouri. 
 
 Many of the measures which Mr. Clark fathered in 
 the Thirty-fifth Assembly were defeated then, but 
 passed in subsequent sessions, and have been exceed- 
 ingly successful in operation. Particularly among 
 these bills were the acts levying taxes, similar to the 
 express company tax, upon insurance, telegraph, and 
 transportation companies. 
 
 He advocated election bills in that session, which, 
 had they then become laws, would have tended largely 
 to the reform and adi ancement of elections in Missouri. 
 Among these measures were acts regulating primary 
 elections. In this session Mr. Clark championed and 
 
CEAMP CLARE. 
 
 227 
 
 had adopted the Australian ballot system for cities of 
 5,000 population and more, since made of general 
 application in the State. 
 
 April 30, 1889, before the two Houses of the Legis- 
 lature, Mr. Clark delivered an oration, which many 
 deem the greatest and ablest speech he ever delivered. 
 It was on the occasion of the hundredth anniversary 
 of the inaugnration of President Washington. The 
 oration was a i>atriotic tribute to Washington and his 
 compeers. The effort, if full justice be ever done to 
 the orations of Champ Clark, deserves commemora- 
 tion as one of the greatest ever delivered on Missouri 
 soil. 
 
 It was in Champ Clark’s style, was classical, histor- 
 ical, full of independent thought, a careful, studious, 
 scholarly review of the character of Washington. 
 
 “What the fruit is to the blossom, what achieve- 
 ment is to promise, what fruition is to hope, what mar- 
 riage is to courtship, the crowning glory of the thirti- 
 eth of April was to the immortal declaration of July 
 fourth,” was the opening sentence of the oration, and 
 from the utterance of these words Mr. Clark's masterv 
 of his snbject was complete. It was not an oration 
 after the manner of the average one delivered on that 
 day, but uncommonly bright and interesting. Had it 
 been delivered in Massachusetts by a iXew England 
 orator, it would have been quoted around the world as 
 one of the greatest orations in the English language, 
 
228 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 but as it was delivered only by a member of the Mis- 
 souri Legislature, and he one out of line with the book- 
 makers of the effete home of “greatness,” it will re- 
 main eutoiubed in tiles of the newspapers that contained 
 it at the ti)ue, until a complete collection of Champ 
 Clark’s orations is published; then the masterly effort 
 of April 3(1, 1889, will deserve a front place among the 
 addresses of his time. 
 
 Out of the one hundred and forty-four members of 
 lhat Legislature, only two ever went to Congress, 
 all hough the session brought to the front some of the 
 brainiest men the State afforded. The two were 
 Mr. Clark and II. AL Bodine, the latter lepresenting 
 Monroe County. In the case of the former, his elec- 
 tion to Congress was inevitable from the day of the ad- 
 journment of the Legislature in which he served. He 
 was admitted to be one of the ablest legislators in the 
 State, having won renown in a body famous for the 
 high quality of its members. Nothing could prevent 
 Clai'k from sooner or later going to Congress and tak- 
 ing a front i ank among the members of the American 
 House of Representatives. 
 
 If anyone is interested in Clark’s persistent advo 
 cacy of primary elections, it might be well enough for 
 them to know that Clark witnessed in his congressional 
 district some of the most sensational conventions i»er- 
 ha])S known in the West. His personal experience 
 with conventions no doubt stimulated to a large de- 
 
CHAMP CLAPE. 
 
 229 
 
 gree his constant distrust in the time-honored method 
 of political nomination. 
 
 In 1884 and 1S8(>, his district won the sobri(iuet of 
 ‘‘Bloody” by holding two conventions each year, taking 
 thousands of ballots. 
 
 First, in 1888, Clark with other prominent men of 
 Pike County saw a prime favorite, Elijah Bobinson, 
 defeated in a convention by “a penny tossed.’’ Then 
 four years later, after Clark's defeat in 1890, he was 
 one of two conspicuous figures in a convention which 
 has gone down in the political annals as by far the 
 most exciting and turi)iilent convention of all Missouri 
 1 >emocratic conventions. He witnessed in each com- 
 ing year reneAved bitterness of spirit and tenseness of 
 disagreement between two factions. Each caininiign 
 added fuel to haTues already raging furiously. Each 
 year saw personal differences assume more threatening 
 proportions, until the people began to speak in primary 
 elections and cleared away complications and settled 
 all strife. The sum of all political peace in Clark's dis- 
 trict is due alone to primary elections. Therefore, 
 there can be little Avonder that he has supported that 
 method so ably and constantly. 
 
 In 1888, Eichard II. Norton, of Troy, and Elijah 
 Eobinson, of Louisiana, Avere the leading candidates 
 for Congress in the Pike (''ouuty district. Eobinson 
 Avas Avithin a feAv A'otes of a nomination, but a long 
 siege of balloting presaged no settlement of the con- 
 
230 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 test. Judge Kobinson was becoming w'earied with the 
 strain of the deadlock, and when a Norton manager 
 came to him with a strange proposition to settle, he 
 grasped it as a final means of arbitrament. The Nor- 
 ton men proposed that a coin should be tossed, and 
 therebjf decide which of the two, Robinson or Norton, 
 should wilhdraw. The coin was flipi)ed in an upper 
 i-oom in AVarrenton, where the convention wms being 
 held. Norton won, and the Robinson forces retired from 
 Ihe field. Richard H. Norton’s chances of election to 
 (jongi'ess therefore were poised upon the finger that 
 tossed that famous coin, and he won. 
 
 Two years later Norton was called upon to measure 
 swoimIs with Champ Clark, another Pike County 
 favonte. Q'hen was opened an historic struggle. Nor- 
 ton and Clark were politically lined up against each 
 other from that time for several years. A contest was 
 l)egun which strained the nerves of the district and 
 sorely divided Democratic households. 
 
 It became a feud about which columns have been 
 written in almost every Missouri newspaper. On this 
 contest all political Missouri focused eyes. At last it 
 was not settled until the State Committee directed a 
 primary election. 
 
 Everybody else stayed out of the race in 1890. 
 Clai-k and Norton fought alone. They contended for 
 advantage in every county of the district. Norton was 
 immensely popular in his own county and had staunch 
 
CUAMF CLARK. 
 
 231 
 
 support from Iris friends. Clark had a State reputation 
 without a blemish and Mms likewise admired and en- 
 thusiastically supported bj' his many friends in tlie 
 district. 
 
 Finally it develoi)ed that Audrain County was the 
 I»ivotal county. Upon its vote depended the whole re- 
 sult. Ill this county Clark was at a decided disadvan- 
 iage. Both of the Mexico iiapers were against him. 
 lie had no Ueiuocratic newspaper supporter in the 
 county, actively and aggressively at work. Sam II. 
 <’nok and Robert M.tVhite,of Mexico, whose newspaper 
 dUTerences have become paid and parcel of Democratic 
 (laditious in Missouri, were united on Congressman 
 Aorlou. A primary was held, and Norton defeated 
 Claik by a narrow margin of ST votes out of a vote 
 polled of 4,100. A cliange of 44 votes in Audrain 
 County would have sent Champ Clark to Congress two 
 years sooner; but he bided his time, and prepared for 
 the struggle of 4892. 
 
 In the interval Clark engaged in the ]>ractice of law 
 in Howling Green, adding to his reputation by occa- 
 sional speeches. He was made chairman of the IMis- 
 souri delegation of the Trans-Mississippi Commercial 
 Congress, which met at Denver, Colorado, May 19, 1891. 
 These congresses have had more to do with the develop- 
 ment of Western sentiment on public questions than 
 any other one inlluence. AVilliam J. Bryan’s first 
 national prominence was attained liy his speeches and 
 
232 
 
 FIVJS FAMOUS MISSOVB.TA'N'S. 
 
 (“ommittee work in these sessions of a con<>'ress of 
 Western business men. This body nnnibered amonj; 
 its members and delegates the ablest and most famous 
 of ^^'estern men, and its sessions were the connoil- 
 (diambers of the brains of the West. 
 
 Champ Clark assumed the greatest prominence of 
 any new member in the session of 1891. He figured 
 with the strongest men of the country, and laid tin* 
 foundations for a national fame. 
 
 The camjtaign of 1892 came on, and with it the 
 climax of the Clark-Norton fend. Again they meas- 
 ured swords in Audrain County, and Clark carried the 
 cftiinty by a majoi'ity of St>8. Lieutenant-Governor Kail, 
 Clark’s closest personal friend, went to Mexico and 
 fought the contest assiduously to the end. The contest 
 shifted to Montgomery County, where the battle was 
 fought vigorously. Then to Crawford County the con- 
 testants turned. A mass convention was to be held 
 at Cuba, and Mr. Ball prepared to make arrange- 
 ments to bring Clark men fr(tm all ]>arts of Crawford 
 ('ounty to Cuba. He went lo St. Louis and chartered a 
 special train for Clark’s use. Norton heard of the j)lans 
 of Ball while down in the southern part of Crawford 
 County, so he boarded a hand-car at a little way-station, 
 went to Cuba, caught a freight train, and brought back 
 from St. Louis two special trains for the Norton men. 
 So was evidenced the des](eration on both sides in the 
 contest. 
 
CUAMP CLARK. 
 
 233 
 
 Clavk secured Hie Crawford delef^ation, but Xorton 
 got up a contesting delegation. Tlie District Commit- 
 tee, fav orable to Xorton, undertook to settle the con- 
 tests. This aroused the party of Clark, and vigorous 
 protests were made b}' them. AVhen the conven- 
 tion met at Montgomeiw City, tlie forces discovered 
 themselves to be tied on the ballots, unless the 
 contests should be settled. For several days the con- 
 vention met in turmoil, then adjourned after all at- 
 tempts to compromise failing. The body of Ninth 
 District Democrats, ‘‘tossed on the waves of excite- 
 ment,'-’ met again a short time later, after the State con- 
 vention had met and nominated a ticket. Finally the 
 Clark and Norton delegates resolved themselves into 
 two conventions and nominated both of the favorites. 
 The vState Committee here interfered and ordered a 
 primary election, which resulted in Champ Clark’s 
 nomination. In November, iS!)2, he was triumiihantly 
 elected. 
 
 The excitement of the summer of 1893 is too familinr 
 to warrant recounting it. Clark took sides naturallv 
 with Bland and Bland’s views, espou.sing the doctrine 
 of free silver ardently. 
 
 During the summer, he was invited by the Tam- 
 many Society to speak in famous Tammany Hall on 
 July Fourth. Here by his wit, his blunt statement of 
 facts which the Tammany braves had never heard, 
 his quaint sentences, his amusing figures, his side-split- 
 
231 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MISEOURIAFfS. 
 
 ting stories, his prophetic analysis of national politics, 
 Champ Clark set New Yoi-k ahre. Tlie metropolis was 
 accnstomed to hearing platitudes and spread-eagle 
 s])eeches on July Fourth. It had never dreamed that 
 the big, deep-voiced Missourian in their midst had such 
 a surprise in store. 
 
 Champ Clark knocked the provincialism and con- 
 ceit of New York Democracy into nothingness, at the 
 same time giving New York a fair sample of the brains 
 and determination of the ’Western Democracy. 
 
 As an evidence of the fame his Tammany Llall 
 speech gave him, the leading paragraphs from the New 
 \'ork World's account of the Ikimmany celebration may 
 be given. The M’urlcl headed the story in big, black 
 hdters, “Hark to Champ Clark.” 
 
 “Tammany Hall celebrated Independence Day with 
 becoming zeal and patriotism. A genuine Missouri 
 Ibker was with them to assist in doing honor to the 
 glorious occasion, to himself, his fellow-Pikers, the 
 State of Missouri, and the boundless and nntrammelled 
 West. It vA'as a great day for Tammany and a truly 
 ]neniorable one for Pikers. 
 
 “Congressman Champ Clark was the Piker. He 
 made an undeniable hit. He was down on the Fourth 
 of July ])rogram for a short talk, but he made a long 
 one. Pikers never make short talks. 
 
 “Clark is a new congressma,n. He comes from the 
 town of Dowling Green, in Pik(* County, the best known 
 
CHAMP CLARE. 
 
 235 
 
 comity of his State. The Tammany celebrants hailed 
 the congressional representativ e of the Pikers with en- 
 thusiasm and listened to him with astonishment and 
 awe. 
 
 “He told the braves that Missouri was the hoiie of 
 Democracy and of the country, and that in half a cen- 
 tury it would be the center of civilization, of wealth, 
 and of population. One astounded Tammany man man- 
 aged to gasp: ‘What ’s the matter with New York?’ 
 
 “ ‘Oh, I ’ll say something about New York in a 
 minute,’ said the Piker nonchalantly. 
 
 “The congressman is gray-haired, but young and 
 active-looking. He is rather over middle height, sturd- 
 ily built, and was well dressed in a gray suit. The coat 
 was of the shad-belly cut. Champ Clark’s face is clean 
 shaven. He used to have a moustache, but sacrificed 
 it before coming to New Yoi'k. The removal of his 
 moustache has brought to view a firm ipiper lip and a 
 generous mouth.” 
 
 After devoting columns to Clark’s speech and some 
 inimitable stories, with profuse illustrations, the World 
 said: 
 
 ‘‘The brazen ^dkings that stand at either end of 
 the Tammany Hall stage wolvbled on their pedestals as 
 Champ Clark went to his seat. These Vikings had 
 heard a good many speeches, but they were unaccus- 
 tomed to the audacious oratory of a Piker. WTieu the 
 aiidieuce recovered its ecpianimity, it applauded Con- 
 
236 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 f^i'essiuau Clark. The otlier features of the eelebra- 
 tiou were tame compared witli the outburst of Mis- 
 souri’s fiery sou.” 
 
 “For mauy other reasons than Conj^i'essmau Chamjr 
 Clark’s first appeai-ance in New York and the receii)t 
 of many letters of p\iblic inter(‘st,’’ the World said, 
 “Tammanr-’s one hundred-and-seventeenth celebration 
 was remarkable.” 
 
 The New York World, with the audience that heard 
 Clark’s speech, lived to see the day when the empire of 
 American Democracy moved its capital to Missouri, as 
 Clark had told thcnn il would do. Those who were 
 astonished at Clark’s (juaint speech saw realized the 
 declarations he made; therefore, the acapiaintance New 
 York has since cultivated with Champ Clark is to be 
 (“asily accounted for. 
 
 jMr. (,’lark was not in New York to cater to New 
 York tastes, nor there to ]tay homage to the powers of 
 the nieti'oi)olis, but to speak his thoughts and opinions 
 in a style which amazed men accustomed only to mild- 
 ness and e(iuivocation. Yet New York, who thought 
 luu-self amused because Clark tore away the veil that 
 shaded the powers of the tVest fi-oni New York e.yes, 
 has since grasped the meaning of his woi'ds, and has 
 looked where lie bade hei' look. New York’s rep- 
 representatives in Congress have lived to respect and 
 admire the congressman whom they once regarded as 
 only uui<iue. Champ Clark the wit, at Tammany Hall, 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 237 
 
 has since been supplanted Champ Clark the student, 
 the man of national affairs, the scholar, the man of 
 letters. New York’s first judgment of a coming man 
 was faulty, but not for the first time in her history. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 CLARK’S IL\riI) RISE TO PROMINENCE IN 
 
 con(;ress.— ms famous orations.— 
 
 REMINISCENCES AND PERSON- 
 AL characteristics. 
 
 When Champ Clark entered the House of Repr, sent- 
 alives, the fame from'his Tammany Hall speech per- 
 vaded Washington, and ])eculiar conceptions had been 
 formed of the Missourian who was coming, as the New 
 ’i'oi k V,h)iid put it, to rei»resent Pike County and his 
 fellow-Pikers in the American Congress. He was in- 
 stantly one of the most interesting figures among the 
 new inembers, that body of men watched so carefully 
 at the recurrence of each new session. His first speech 
 was awaited with more than ordinary interest. This 
 speech took x>lace during the extra session of Congress, 
 in and was on the subject of money. It was cal- 
 culated to increase rather than lessen the ilissourian’s 
 fame as a speaker given to the use of unique figures, 
 powerful logic, and remarkable language. 
 
 Clark’s entire career is one of a continuation of for- 
 ensic victories; each speech, each heated debate, each 
 spirited colloquy marked a rise in the estimation of 
 those who heard him. He grew as a man of scholarly 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 239 
 
 attainments nuist, when the jtopnlai- conception of him 
 is eiToneons at the outset. 
 
 The ideas formed of Clark in many quarters wei’e at 
 first mistaken. He was looked upon and regarded 
 with more curiosity than respect. He had come into 
 Congress possessed of a reputation gained from exag- 
 gerated and distorted stories in the New York papers. 
 Although at first those who did not know Clark inti- 
 mately underestimated him, lie was soon learned to be 
 a man of more than ordinary ability, and his words 
 were widely quoted, often in quarters where abuse and 
 ridicule had first been heaped upon him. 
 
 His maiden elfort was deliyered August 10, 1803, its 
 subject being the all-absorbing topic, to consider which 
 the Congress of the United States had been called into 
 extraoi-dinai-y session. It was one of the most forcible 
 and pointed etforts deliyered during the entire session 
 and was widely commented upon and quoted in all 
 ])arts of the country. ^Ir. Clark was thoroughly famil- 
 iar with the question under discussion and had ideas 
 of his own upon the subject. He beiieyed with all 
 his heart in the doctrines of Richard P. Bland, 
 and few of Bland's lieutenants in debate proyed 
 so able, powerful, and adroit as Clark. Few could 
 put a principle in a sentence or an entire speech in a 
 j»aragraph as he could. In his first speech he gaye 
 an apt and striking description of the panic of 1893, 
 which contained as much truth as wit. He declared 
 
 — 16 — 
 
240 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 lliat the great business depression had been produced 
 I)V AVall Street, but that it had gone beyond tlieir con- 
 trol. Said he: “They started it, but could not guide 
 
 it. They sowed the wind and reaped the whirlwind. 
 They huA^e realized the truth of the old dictum that 
 ‘wicked inventions sometimes return to plague the in- 
 ventors.’ They are in the condition of the philosopher 
 who took a few pieces of wood, leather, and iron and 
 made him a devil, and after he had made him, dis- 
 covered that the devil controlled him instead of his 
 controlling the devil.” 
 
 The power of this part of the s])eech is instanced 
 moi'e tlian otherwise by the manner in which Clark was 
 Jlayed by those who saw things so dimly that they 
 failed in an appreciation of the truth of his statements, 
 kbit if ever histoi-y does justice to the American people, 
 it will find ample evidence to bear out Clark’s asser- 
 tions and will discoveu” that the panic of 1893 was in 
 truth a plan of interested ones to force upon the people 
 the repeal of a measure hatched in and by Wall Street. 
 Clark’s sentences contained meat, food for thought; 
 they made clear, or, rather, drove into the hearers, a 
 serious fad, upon which the .Vmerican people may j'et 
 hnd it judicious to ponder. 
 
 In Congress, Clark’s speeches are few in number. 
 Like his course in the Missouri Legislature, he never 
 spoke unless he said something worth saying, and 
 while his speeches are not so great in number, they are 
 
CHAMP CLARE. 
 
 241 
 
 more widely read than those of members -who effervesce 
 so frequently that their words carry little weight. This 
 is due not alone to the way in which he says things, but 
 to the way in which his deductions reach home, the 
 keenness with which his sentences are pointed, the way 
 his paragraphs are illumined with bright sayings, the 
 way in which he includes aphorisms in his speeches; 
 aphorisms which in instances have reached into every 
 home and been repeated in practically every fireside to 
 which fhe multifarious American newspaper goes. 
 
 In debate Clark has always been a dangerous foe. 
 In a debate during the extra session, on October 2, 
 18!k>, Clark spoke on the race question, delivering an 
 immensely practical and truthful speech, although it 
 overthrew some pet theories. Mr. Wilson, of Washing- 
 ton, interrupted Mr. Cdark, during this sjieech, by en- 
 deavoring to draw him away from his subject and 
 answer some interrogatories upon the subject of the 
 appointment of non-resident Indian agents in the West. 
 The big IMissourian was stormed by Wilson with all 
 sorts of questions, which Clark stood for awhile good- 
 naruredly; then W'ilson said that “scalawags” from 
 Missouri and other States were imported and made In- 
 dian agents in the West. This aroused Mr. Clark, and 
 he summarily informed the inquisitive member from 
 Washington that to his certain knowledge there was 
 not a syllable of truth in the statement. “For Mis- 
 
242 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS AlWHOVRIASF. 
 
 soui'i.’’ said lu*, “lias fiiniislied AVasliiiif^ton with iiiiie- 
 ti nllis of till liraiiis of tlu* Stale.’' 
 
 On anotliei- occasion, Air. Bon telle interrn])ted Mr. 
 (’lark with a sneering i-eiuark, to wliich (’lark thunder- 
 ously re])li(‘d: “Yon keep yonr month shut. Yon have 
 
 mor(‘ monlh and less brains than any man that ever sat 
 in the American ('onsi’ess.” This sally was crnshiiif;', 
 and Mr. Bontelle has not since tieen known to interrupt 
 the “member from Alissouri.” 
 
 On om* occasion Mr. ( 'lark’s readiness of retort was 
 illnsti'ated by an instance which occni'red during the 
 debate on the bond issue in 18!)8. Air. Clark had .just 
 i-eferred to -Judas Iscariot as a ti-aitor who had, despite 
 his other faults, “the good grace to hang himself," 
 when Air. laicey, of Iowa, asked him: “AVas not Judas 
 
 Iscariot tlie original silver inanT’ to which Air. Clark, 
 (|uick as a flash, retorted : “No; so far as I knowy a Re- 
 
 jmblican wms the original silver man. The hrst free 
 silver s]ieech ever made in the American Congress was 
 made bv AVilliam H. Allison, of Iowa, a man you wmr- 
 ship." It was some minutes before the laughter and 
 ap]daiise at the ex|)cnse of Air. Lacey subsided. 
 
 During the first two years of Champ Clark’s service 
 in (Jongress, he made tw’o or three sjieeches that made 
 him famous and built up a rejmtation held in reserve 
 by fortune for few. His versatility was evidenced by 
 his ability in debate on all ipiestions before Congress. 
 The members and galleries wamld sometimes laugh. 
 
CEIMP CLAEK 
 
 243 
 
 liiit, as Mr. Bailey says, in lime it would be learned that 
 Clark's wit and odd sentences were mediums of con- 
 veying- some striking ideas and practical views. 
 
 A \Vashiugton newspaper coi res])ondent, whose 
 writings and sayings are widely cpioted, once wrote 
 of the lirst speech he ever heard Air. Clark make 
 in Congress. Said he: “I shall never forget the 
 first time J heard him speak. Jt was on one of S])ring- 
 er’s ‘i»op-gnn' tai-iff bills. I had started to leave when 
 1 was arrested by his 'Air. Chairman.' I sat down and, 
 after making impury of several persons in my vicinity, 
 a gentleman informed me that it was Cham]) Clark, of 
 Alissouri. There was no atteni])t at flow of oratory, 
 there were no ‘tears' in his voice, no 'flowers’ in his 
 s])eech, no elo)[nence, no rhetoric. It was a 'kitchen 
 knife whetted on a brick-bat.’ He was standing near 
 the centei' of the Democratic side, and as he started 
 into a sentence that yon knew was going to })rove 
 both argnment and epigram, he advanced toward the 
 s]>eaker, and after going about a dozen feet, he would 
 stop in front of some member's desk, and as he a])- 
 ])roached the climax he would lean over the desk and 
 shake his head like a terrier shaking a rat. all the while 
 words ])onring out of his month like a cataract, and 
 thus he would |)onr a bi-oadside into the enemy. In 
 my day. and I have been about this capital twenty 
 years, I have known few men of the House so much 
 feai-ed. There are better orators in Congress than he; 
 
244 
 
 FIVE FAM0V8 MIESOVRIAFIS. 
 
 but lliere are ‘orators’ and ‘orators.’ One day Andy 
 Jackson came out of the Senate and roared: ‘There 
 
 are too many great men in this country who are fit for 
 nothing.’ He was thinking of your ‘orator’ — your 
 orator with a voice and nothing else. About the poor- 
 est stick a constituency can send to Congress is an 
 orator who is an ignoramus.” 
 
 In the election of 1894, Mr. Clark suffered from 
 the general Democratic defeat, being defeated in the 
 Ninth District by William M. Treloar, of Mexico, Mo., 
 by a plurality of 132, although the vote indicated that 
 between three thousand and thirty-five hundred Demo- 
 crats had failed to vote. 
 
 Just after the November election and his defeat 
 for reelection, Mr. Clark made a sjieech in the House 
 of Representatives that gave him a very substantial 
 standing among the scholars of the American Congress 
 and which will undoubtedly live in the memory of the 
 American people because of its historical value. It 
 has been published in part in almost every newspaper 
 in the United States. It became known as “The Ob- 
 scure Heroes Speech.’’ 
 
 ]Mr. Holman, known as the “Great Objector,” had 
 been engaged in a warfare to defeat the passage of a 
 bill relating to the revenue-cutter service, and he called 
 Clark to his assistance and asked him to make a speech 
 against time, that the bill might be killed. Mr. Clark 
 did so, and such a speech for such a purpose was proba- 
 
CniMP CLARK. 
 
 245 
 
 biy never delivered before that time in Coiif^ress. No- 
 time-killing speech -was ever listened to more attent- 
 i\ ely and with more interest than this one. Mr. Clark 
 spoke for forty minutes on December 11, 1891, and tlie 
 bill was eternally killed, while Chamj) Clark had im- 
 mortalized himself and in so doing had made a speech 
 dealing wiih the obscure heroes of the American Revo- 
 lution and Civil War, which made for him the fame of 
 a scholar and patriot. The speech showed more plainly 
 than ever the speaker's remarkable memory and well- 
 stocked mind. It was one of the truly great efforts, de- 
 tailied from politics and political issues, made in the 
 past twenty years in Congress. 
 
 In the course of the speech, IMr. Clark went into th(> 
 intricacies of border history, and in his inimitable style 
 bronght out of the depths many incidents showing the 
 unexampled bravery and sacrificial daring of the men 
 who made np the border military expeditions, both in 
 the Re^ olntion and the Civil War. The traditions and 
 fireside tales of the border were for the first time 
 told in Congress. Names and deeds lost in history 
 were rescued by Champ Clark and reinstated in the 
 hearts of the American jieople, all while he was su]i- 
 ]»oi-ting his position in defense of the obscure hero, to 
 whom another representative had a short time before- 
 alluded scornfully. Clark wrote on the pages of his- 
 tory names which had been overlooked in the formei' 
 distributions of favor; he drew from their obscurity the 
 
246 
 
 FIYE FAMOVS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 liei'oes in skins and hoinespnn, against whom there 
 was ne\’(H- again lifted a voice in Congress. Clark took 
 ohscnre lives and made them famous, showing that be 
 hind the nameless and foi'gotten hero lay the spirit of 
 the time in which he lived. 
 
 The speech won for Clark many friendships, none 
 more st:il>le and lasting Than that of Mr. Holman, who 
 Ihrew his aims atfectionately around the young Mis- 
 souri member's neck, at the close of his iirilliant etfoi t, 
 and bestowed n]»on him lavish congratnlations. 
 
 In rebinary, 18!>4, Mic ('lark s]»oke on the tariff 
 (piestion, winning recognition as a trenchant thinker 
 on economic subjects. This speech was one of Mr. 
 ( lai’k's ablest and most ])owerfnl efforts on an eco- 
 nomic snbject. 
 
 After his retirement fi'om Congress, Mr. Clark re- 
 entered into iiractice af Bowling Creen, living a quiet 
 life for two years. The most notable incident occurring 
 during his retirement was the trial of Dr. J. ( k Hearne, 
 the alleged murderer of Amos Stilwell, a well-known 
 ])ork-])acker of Hannibal, Missouri. Mr. Clark was 
 associated with the pi-osecution in this famous case, 
 which stands with few ]jarallels as a criminal action 
 of national fame. One interesting fact connected with 
 this case is that David A. Ball, Clark's old-time friend 
 and law partner, was one of the attorneys conducting 
 the defense. The trial was replete with incidents of 
 interest, in which ('lark and Ball figured. One or two 
 
CB.UIP CLARE. 
 
 247 
 
 will suHice, and those relate to the aroumeuts in the 
 case. 
 
 When Lieutenant-tJovenior Ball made his argu- 
 ment in defense of Hearne, he made an able ])lea for the 
 defendant, weighiii”- the evidence ciiticall y. He drew 
 to a climax by summariziiif* his arguments, and punctu- 
 ated Ids I'emarks by defying ( 'lark, who was to follow' 
 him, to reply to his arguments and refute his i>roposi- 
 tions. In the jiresence of a crowded court room, Ball 
 would jiaiise at the close of some argumentative state- 
 ment, taji Clark on the head, and bend over him, utter 
 ing an audible detiance: “Let me hear yon answ'er that, 
 Clark." This Mr. Ball kejit u[) for some time, much 
 to the ap])arent annoyance of ('lark, who was sitting 
 writing out his own si)eech. Bail was attemi)ting to 
 disconcert him, so tinally (.'lark apjaailed to the (.'ourt 
 to ]»rotect him. 
 
 (.'lark rose to reply to Bali while deathlike stillness 
 filled the room. B, I*, (tiles, one t)f C'lark's associate 
 counsel, who was afterwai'd elected to (''cmgress, but 
 died before taking his seat, leaned over and whis])ered 
 to ('lark in audible tones, the great audience bending 
 over to catch his words, the groups of newspaper cor- 
 resjiondents reaching over to hear what (tiles would 
 say to (tlai-k; “Bcmember, ('lark, that the eyes of Mis- 
 souri are on you, just as the eyes of the nation w'ere on 
 yon at Tammany Hall. Make the speech of your life.” 
 All eyes were turned toward ('lark, who w'as standing 
 
24S 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 ready to address the jury, under circumstances seldom 
 witnessed in a court room, and after hearing from an 
 associate counsel words seldom heai-d in a murder trial. 
 A fter a moment’s stillness, Clark heftan one of the most 
 stirring ]>rosecuting speeches ever heard in Missouri. 
 It set the court room afire and made the defendani 
 wince under the cutting assaults of Clark, who cast 
 aside mercy, and clung to the rigid lines of cold, harsh, 
 unanswerable justice. ITis denunciation of Hearne 
 was ringing and vigorous. When he drew to a close 
 with a powerful excoriation of the defendant, the great 
 crowd broke into cheers, while Hearne sat and shiv- 
 ei'ed under the hard words of his accuser. 
 
 In 18!1() ]\Ir. Clark was returned to Congress by an 
 overwhelming majority. 
 
 lie was made one of the members of the impoidant 
 Committee on Foreign Relations in the Fifty-fifth Con- 
 gress, which committee had one of the most ini])drtant 
 l»osts to fill during the troublesome days preceding the 
 Spanish- American AV'ar. Mr. Clark justified this ap- 
 ]»ointment and honor from Speaker Reed by marked 
 ability and signal yuitriotism. He was very ofteii 
 called upon to draft imi)ortant re])orts of the commit 
 tee and deal with some of the most important questions 
 of the time. He was one of the most useful members. 
 
 During the discussions of the situation in Cuba, Mr. 
 Clark took a strong position in favor of the recognition 
 of Cuba, and was one of the most ardent supporters of 
 
CnAMP CLARK. 
 
 249 
 
 the war with Spain, although he differed, as did some 
 of the Republicans and all the Democrats of the House 
 of .Rej)resentatiTes, with the administration’s policy 
 after the war was closed. 
 
 .AFr. Clark delivered speeches in this Congress which 
 added materially to his fame, notably the speech known 
 as “The Country Editor Speech,” which was the means 
 of killing a measure calculated to do harm, as Jkir. 
 Clark saw it, to thousands of ])ublishers in the country, 
 for no particnlar object of pul)lic good. This speech 
 was prot)ably more widely quoted than any other ever 
 delivered by Mi\ Clark, nnless it be “The Obscure 
 Hentes Speech.” It won for the IMissourian the evei-- 
 lasting friendship of the rnral press. Some criticisms 
 were passed uj)ou him at the time, which have since 
 died out practically unnoticed. These wmre to the 
 effect that the speech was calculated as a sail trimmed 
 to catch the favor of the rural press, but those who re- 
 numdmr IMr. Clark’s own trials as a country editor will 
 su]>i»ort a ]40sition assunnng his absolute honesty and 
 sincerity in that speech. 
 
 Another speech, especially line and probably as 
 logical and statesmanlike as any delivered in Congress 
 in exposition of the position of those who patriotically 
 opj;K)sed the annexation of Hawaii, was delivered June 
 11, 1S9S. This speech was replete with striking argu- 
 ments against a new depaiture in the administrative 
 policies of the American Rei)ublic. Clark used satire 
 
250 
 
 FITE FAM0V8 3II8SOURIAN8. 
 
 in tliis oi'tition to accoiii])lis]i his ])urpose and drive his 
 loi’ic home. Ihtrts of tliis speecli oecasioned more re- 
 seutmeul from the o])])osition than any speech of like 
 jtosifion. Clai-k’s text was the ])er])etnity of the Re- 
 ]ml)lic, and Ids S])eech will commend itself for all time 
 as a ])atriotic, sensible, and 1hoii<i'htfnl view. 
 
 I’ei-haps the jireatest oration of Mr. Clark’s entire 
 careei- wais his address on the life and character of 
 Francis Freston Iflai)-, jnnior, delivered on the occa- 
 sion of the ])i esenlation of statues of Blair and Benton, 
 Ihe two j>reatest Missourians in history; the latter gr, at 
 in Jacksonian statc'smanship, the othei- in war. This 
 oration was a serious, scholarly elfort, more biograph- 
 ic, il and historical in its nature than oj'atorical. It has 
 been incbided by Associate ,fnstice David J. Brewer, of 
 Ihe Fnited Slates Supreme Court, and other eminent 
 American scholars, in a work entitled “The World’s 
 (ireatest Orations,” the compilation of which is the 
 work of dustice Brewei- and othei“ distinguished men. 
 The oration cerlainly deserves ])lace among American 
 orations as one of the brightest and truest i)ortraits of 
 a gi’eat American, whose place is w'ell fixed in his conn 
 try’s histoi-y. It stands as a scholar’s tribute to a war- 
 rior and is without ecjnal. Clark’s studious contem- 
 jdation and analysis of the man who had more to do 
 with saving the border States to the Fnion than any 
 other one great leader will alwaiys be of interest as long 
 as the American rebellion and its environments are of 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 251 
 
 interest. Clark ])nt into language the most dignitied 
 and masterful estimate of a great (diaracter pro- 
 nounced in (’ongress in several decades. It breathed 
 the s])irit of its subject. It told ho^Y it was that IMis- 
 souri gave to the American '\hilhalla the statue of Fran- 
 cis P. Blair, the gifted, honored son of a famous char- 
 acter. who is always of interest because of his close yet 
 indei)endent relations with Andrew .Jackson, whose 
 name itself is an American classic. 
 
 One of ^Ir. Clark’s speeches on the Cuban situation 
 aroused so much interest and enthusiasm iu Congress, 
 at a time Avhen excitement 'was almost at fever heat, 
 that his utterances were taken as representative of the 
 idea of the times, and the speech was translated into 
 French and Oerman and extensively reco])ied in Euro- 
 ]>ean countries with edilorial comment. This is a dis- 
 tinction which comes to few re]»resentatives in the 
 Lower House of Congress. 
 
 Though Hr. ('lark is possessed of sound judgiiieiir. 
 of a statesman's courage and fearlessness iu convic- 
 tion. and is an able, jiaiustaking worker in committees 
 and the other departments of legislation aside from the 
 arena of debate, he may I)e said to stand u]K.m a lasting 
 fame founded u])on a score of great orations, some of 
 them in theii* class desermng to be received by the 
 -student of the future as some of the greatest iu the 
 language. 
 
252 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURI AFIS. 
 
 Some of his best efforts have been delivered outside 
 of the halls of Congress or of legislative bodies. Many 
 of his speeches which have won him high position in 
 Tmblic esteem were delivered without the I'ange of par- 
 tisan politics and upon subjects in no way allied with 
 ]>olitics. As a lecturer, his success has been distinct- 
 ive, having been cordially and enthusiastically re- 
 ceived by some of the most critical and cultured aud- 
 iences in the United t^tates. His utterances attract 
 as much attention as those of any man in public life. 
 Even some of the metropolitan press, opposing him 
 most bitterly and hatiiig him most religiously, are 
 eager to get his speeches and utterances into their 
 [u-iiits. Cham]) Claik is one of the most successful 
 ])ublic speakers in the United states. Not only is his 
 success substantial at the time of delivery, but the 
 closer the scrutiny of his speeches and orations, when 
 ‘embalnn'd in type," the more food for thought, the 
 more interest, and the more information can be found. 
 Cham]) Clark will be quoted for years after he is dead; 
 therefore, it must be admitted that his success as a 
 sjjeaker is not due to his oratorical ability, for, strictly 
 s])eaking, that is but ordinary. His delivery is force- 
 ful, but not polished; it is what he says, and not how he 
 says it, that wins attention. Ilis success as a speaker 
 and writer is due to the fact that he has mastered the 
 art of expression in the English tongue. 
 
CHAMP CL AUK. 
 
 253 
 
 Despite this success, Avhich involves delivery and 
 construction of liis speeches, Mr. Clark himself not lonj>- 
 a”'o said: “it may interest young speakers who suffer 
 
 from that most excruciating and exasperating disease 
 or affliction known as ‘stage fright’ to learn that even 
 veterans are liable to suffer from it. At any rate, 1 
 have had it so bad twice in the last eleven years that T 
 could hardly speak at all. In 1S8S, when I placed 
 David A. Ball in nominatioji for lieutenant-governor, 
 my tongue was so dry that I thought it would stick to 
 the roof of my mouth in spite of all 1 could do, and my 
 knees knocked together as though I had ague. Again, 
 in 1S!)?>, at Tammany Hall, when I began I had as severe 
 a case of stage fright as any girl that ever appeared be- 
 fore the foot-ligliTs for the first time. But, in each in- 
 stance, there was something in the first sentence that 
 set the audience to laughing and applauding, and the 
 dreadful sensation — for that ’s what it is — passed off' 
 suddenly. So far as I know. There is neither jireventa- 
 tive nor cure for this strange disease, if disease it may 
 be called. There is just a little unpleasant nerv- 
 ousness immediately jireceding The beginning of any 
 sjieech of importance that I make. Governor Charles 
 r. Johnson — a rare judge in matters oratorical — once 
 told me that if I ever ceased to feel that way, it would 
 be an infallible sign that my powers as a public speaker 
 were on the wane.” 
 
254 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MI880VRIAFS. 
 
 ]\]r. Clark's orations and speec lies are ordinarily 
 earefnlly inepai-eil 1>,\ liini. lie molds each sentenee 
 and eonstrnets mndi ]);ii-ayrai)li willi care; therefore a 
 laiy(‘ jiart of the weight they eari-y. ftebates hy the 
 score in the iMissonri Li'gislatim' and in Congress, how- 
 evm-, ]>ro'e that he does not have to ]ire]»ai-e his 
 speeches, for his ready wit and his ability to think and 
 weigh argnrnent earefnlly in a inoinent jila.ce him at 
 (lie head id' exleinpoianeons speakers; but his greatest 
 speeches and orations are based n]Hm serious thought, 
 lie is an assiduous student, as may be inferred from his 
 writings and sjieeches. llis methods of study have 
 been careful and conducted w ith a i ('tentive mind ujion 
 fiuitfnl lines. No man in public life has been moi'e 
 misr(']>resented than he, chiefly bm-ause of his inde- 
 jiendence of character and tin* manner in which he very 
 often condncts a wordy war. llis eccentricities of 
 character, exaggerated and distorted beyond recogni- 
 tion, have also led to a misconception of him. Clark’s 
 sjieeches are sometimes assumed to rejiresent him as a 
 juggler of woi-ds, yet nothing could be falser. He uses 
 words in a peculiar way for the sinijde reason that he 
 thinks that way. He thinks to the point, sti-ikes from 
 his thought, and hits the mark. 
 
 IMr. Clark imssesses a hajipy facility in coining 
 jihi'asi^s w’hich stick to the memory. In the Tammany 
 Hall s]ieech he (hristened the State of his adojition 
 and residence “Imperial ^Missouri,” an apiijellation so 
 
GEAMP CLARK. 
 
 255 
 
 fittiiig and fetching that it will stick forever. In all 
 likelihood Missouri writers and orators will use the 
 I)hrase years after Missourians have forgotten wdio 
 first apj)lied it. He fastened upon Congressman Joseph 
 Cr. Cannon, of Illinois, chairman of the great Commit- 
 lee on Api>ropriations, the sobriquet of “the Dancing- 
 Dervish of Danville,” because of Cannon's queer g.yra- 
 tions in debate. The phrase had a great run in the 
 papers at the time, and to its appropriateness the 
 Chicago C'h7'onide devoted three columns with a number 
 of illustrations. He conferred upon General Charles 
 H. Grosvenor, of Ohio, the nickname of “the Grim Old 
 Lion of Athens,” which the gray-haired, vitriolic gener- 
 al took in good jtart and which is yet frequently used 
 in the public prints. “Free Trade incubators” was 
 the unique phrase which Mr. Clark applied in debate 
 once to the opponents of the Wilson Tariff Bill, and it 
 had great vogue at the time. The New York Journal 
 gives Clark credit for denominating the supporters of 
 the McKinley administration “McHannaites,” which 
 word rapidly came into use among the political oppo- 
 nents of President McKinley. 
 
 Mr. Clark is regarded as an intense partisan, yet to 
 his intimate friends and acquaintances he is known as 
 one of the most forgiving foes and faithful friends, de- 
 spite political differences. In Congress he commands 
 the universal respect of the Republicans, who fear him 
 
 in debate, and some of the great Republican leaders 
 —n~ 
 
256 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURI A~NS. 
 
 know liini so well that they comit him among their fast 
 friends. Mr. t'lark's attitude to Speaker Keed invoked 
 the ])olilical wi-atii and j)ersona1 friendliness of that 
 fearless, inde[»enden1 , and brainy son of IMaine. Mr. 
 Keed and IMi-. ('lark have often sjtoken of each other 
 comjdinientarily. Ahov(' all things, Mr. ('lark admires 
 in Reed his ])oli(ieal independence. The force of char- 
 act(M' which rules the Maine statesman is of the sort 
 which is found dominating ('hamp ('lark, and in many 
 ways they are kindred s]»irits, althongh ])olitically they 
 divide and differ on e\ery line. 
 
 The friendshi])S of ('hamp Clark are interesting. 
 Probably the best knowm in Missouri is his friendship 
 with David A. Kail, formerly lieutenant-governor. 
 Kail and (>lark started into life ])ractically togethei’; 
 they have been allied many times, and though some- 
 times clouds have gathered over each, the frieudshi]) of 
 ('al ly days has stood snjueme. This fiieiidshii) is well 
 known to those familiar with the political history of 
 Democi-atic IMissouii. For two such leaders as (!'lark 
 and Kail to srait and travel thi'ough life arm in arm, 
 allied in \ icfory and defeat, is a most interesting sight. 
 Kail's nature is as loyal as loyalty evei- becomes, while 
 Clark's friendship reaches out past ambition, jiast self- 
 ishness, until it luei'ts its object, tried, tested, and true. 
 Kail and Clark have stood togiThei- in more than one 
 battle in .Missouri jiolitics as w'ell as in life, and may 
 stand together in many more before the inexorable laws 
 
CHAMP CLARK. 
 
 257 
 
 of Xatiire tenuiiiate tlieii- earthly relations. Both are 
 men whose lignres have been targets for malicious 
 slanders, but neither has fallen under such assaults, 
 nor will either, for both are men of true manly worth 
 and are needed for their worth. 
 
 In Washington, Clark's friendship with Joseph "Uh 
 Bailey approaches a number of friendships of publi<' 
 men in interest. Bailey and ('lark are vastly different 
 in many ways, \et somewhere in each other's nature 
 they find a res])onsive chord, ('lark's fi-iendship with 
 personages of lesser im[)ortance will someday be of 
 greater interest than they are to-day, for nothing can 
 illustrate the man better than his friendships. 
 
 Clark is known for one i)eculiar fact, rare in many 
 types of i)ublic men — for his familiarity with the Bible. 
 This is })ractically a matter of common knowledge. Xo 
 man in public life quotes the Scriptures more frequent- 
 ly. more accurately, or more appropriately. Upon read- 
 ing his famous oration on Blair, an eminent minister of 
 the gospel, whose name carries weight and catches 
 attentive ears in religious circles everywhere, said: 
 ‘‘f'hani]) Clark knows more about the Bible than many 
 preachers.” Someone once asked IMr. ('lark how he 
 came to read (he Bible so much. He rejilied: 
 
 “H'hen I was a boy, my father wanted me to study 
 the Bible, and I would not do it very much. So he ran 
 across a small book, .a sort of vest-pocket volume — con- 
 taining the Declaration of Indei)endence, the old Arti- 
 
258 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 cles of Confederation, tlie Constitution of the United 
 States, and Washington’s Farewell Address, which he 
 gave to me with these words : ‘My son, as jmu will not 
 
 read your Bible, here is the next best book; study it.’ 
 
 “J followed his advice. ‘Yon can lead a horse to the 
 branch, but you can’t make him drink.’ So, while my 
 father could make me go to church, he could not force 
 me to study theology. We attended Sunday worship 
 at a log meeting-house called ‘den’s Creek,’ in Wash- 
 ington Coiintj', Kentucky. Year the center was a 
 huge, square post to hold up the roof. When the ser- 
 mon did not interest me, I would curl myself u]j behind 
 that j)OSt, get out my ‘political Bible,’ and go to work on 
 it. I keitt that up until I knew by heart the Declara 
 tion of Independence, the old Articles of Confederation, 
 the Constitution, and Washington’s Farewell Address, 
 — not an unhealthy mental exercise, by any manner of 
 means. 
 
 “T am not certain that I wonld ever have studied the 
 Bible excej)t for a sort of accident. My father was 
 bitterly opposed to my reading novels. He kept me 
 from it as long as he could control me. That I made 
 up for lost time in that regard goes without saying. He 
 was always buying and borrowing histories and biog- 
 raphies for me to read — and thus formed in me a habit 
 which abides to this day. Once, however, he came 
 across the most fascinating romance ever written. It 
 was published in the guise of a biography, and was en- 
 
CHAMP CLAPE. 
 
 259 
 
 titled ‘William Wirt’s Life of Patrick Henry.’ Neither 
 good Sir Walter Scott nor Rider Haggard ever drew on 
 their imagination more than did William Wirt in the 
 prex)aration of that book. Father brought it home and 
 I read it as Old Harper, of Kentncky, ran his horses, 
 ‘from eend to eend.' It contained Patrick's great lyric 
 speech before the Virginia House of Burgesses; precix*- 
 itating the Revolution, which still stirs the heart like 
 strains of martial music. Of course it completely fas- 
 cinated me; but the sentence which took most thorough 
 l)OSsession of my mind was this: ‘The race is not always 
 to the swift, nor the battle to the strong.’ I pondered 
 that jiaradox wonderingly in my heart. I told my 
 father what a great speech it was and what a magnifi- 
 cent sentence it was. He took my breath away by say- 
 ing; ‘My son, King Solomon, and not Patrick Henry, 
 wrote that sentence which you admire so much. Read 
 your Bible as eagerly as yon do histories and biogra- 
 phies and you will hnd hundreds of others fully as mag- 
 nificent.’ I was much surprised, but took him at his 
 word, and have been reading the Bible ever since, with 
 constantly increasing jirofit and delight. To say noth- 
 ing of its religions value, it is the best book in the world 
 to quote from. Whatever knowledge I have of it dates 
 from the day that my father placed William Wirt’s 
 ‘Life of Patrick Henry’ in my hands.” 
 
 Mr. Clark has an interesting family and lives in the 
 utmost simiilicity. Mrs. Clark is a brtght woman, in 
 
260 
 
 FlYE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 whom Champ Clai-k’s life, since his marriage, has cen 
 tered. Tlie two children of the honsehohl are splendid 
 sjiecimens of tyiiical American child-intellioence. The 
 golden-hairi'd little dan<>hter, Genevieve, named after 
 her mother, is the joy of her parents. Tfennett, born on 
 Jackson’s Day, is a promising young Democrat, with 
 yonthfnl precocity and remarkable boyish shrewdness. 
 Two children have been lost by l\Ir. Clark and wdfe, 
 little Cliani]) and Ann Hamilton, who became known at 
 the Missouri capital as the “belle of Pike.” Neither 
 lived to ten yeai-s of age. 
 
 Mr. Clark's life is brightened with an accomplished 
 fame, growing brighter in each jiassing year, and if he 
 lives to serve many more terms in Congress, he will 
 rank among the most famous men of his generation, for 
 he builds upon his fame with every oration he delivers. 
 
 Those who have misrepresented him, slandered him, 
 abused him, sometimes for that which he could nor 
 lielp, have already In ed to be chagrined. The chagrin 
 will grow until envy itself is consumed. 
 
 His is a life of greatest interest, in conception, in its 
 formative periods, in its successes and defeats, in its 
 prime, in its apiiroaching zenith, and the end is not yet. 
 He has built unconsciously, undesignedly upon a good 
 foundation, laid by a careful father, until the struct- 
 ure commands admiration everywhere. His footsteps 
 
CTIAMP CLARK. 
 
 261 
 
 have been upward, tliougli bis bglit lias been always 
 against the greatest odds. 
 
 The brilliant Ileauchanips, whose name Kentucky 
 cherishes, have an illnstrions descendant who will 
 carry their name to pedestals high and great. 
 
 
I 
 
 
 \ 
 
 
 
 
'yVL . ^ 
 
JAMES n. GREENWOOD. LL.D., 
 
 SCHOLAR AND EDUCATOR. 
 

 ■ - Oi 
 
 : v*.- 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The life of Dr. (ireeinvood is typical of the develoji- 
 meut possible in the middle West during the last half 
 of the nineteenth century. Born and reared on tlie 
 farm, he endured the hardships and reaped the benefits 
 incident to pioneer life on the broad prairies of Illinois 
 and in the diyersitied fields of northern Missouri. Ac- 
 customed to hard work and fond of the chase, this 
 young Missourian of fine physique and abundant neryi? 
 force enjoyed excei»tional opportunities for the deyeh 
 opment of the senses; hence yery keen perceptions 
 which haye characterized the man. To him rural life 
 was a fitting school, a real stimulus to an unusually act- 
 iye, yaried. and successful career. 
 
 Here among the plain common people, where life is 
 always serious, he acquired the clear’ insight into the 
 ways and purposes of people that constitutes a basic 
 element in eyery great character. 
 
 Superintendent Greenwood has little taste for the 
 ordinary amusements of life. Unlike many other great 
 men, he is always accessible, yery genial and sociable. 
 He has lived a notably busy life; he has traveled much 
 and read widely; he has enjoyed companionship and 
 business relations with all sorts of people; a delightful 
 conversationalist among scholars and men of affairs, 
 he, like Gladstone, has been fond of mingling, at times, 
 among people in the simplest walks of life. 
 
266 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 He has long been known as an unusually expert 
 mathematician. This, however, is only one of many 
 attainments, and probably not his greatest; for his . 
 resources in history, literature, philosophy, and art are, 
 beyond doubt, equally great. Herein lies the charm of 
 the man, — possessed of remarkable talent in many 
 fields of human endeavor, he is characterized by ex- 
 treme modesty and unusual simplicity in style of dress 
 and manner of life. In educational circles Superintend- 
 ent Greenwood has been a dread to superficial innova- 
 toi'S, quacks, and shams; he has for a (piarter of a cen- 
 tury held his own in the vei'y vanguard of the progres 
 sive educational column. For many years a conspicu- 
 ous figure in the national councils of education, he is 
 universally respected and admired by the school men of 
 America. In the committees of the National Educa- 
 tional Association, which have formulated the great 
 principles now controlling our educational practice, he 
 has been a potent factor; doubtless there has not been a 
 single measure of far-reaching consequence before that 
 organization for twenty years on which Dr. Greenwood 
 has not been heard. As a public lecturer, a magazine 
 writer, and an author he is widely known, and has 
 exerted no small inlluence in making up the body of our 
 permanent educational doctrine. 
 
 He is possessed of rare judgment in discriminating 
 among men and measures. To this is due more largely 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 267 
 
 than to any other cause tlie uniciue and envied position 
 of Kansas City in the educational world. 
 
 He is above all a fair man, a frank and honest man, ' 
 never known to screen himself or to disguise his 
 purposes behind masks of any sort. He is a gener- 
 ous, whole-souled, great-hearted iMissourian, in whose 
 achievements onr splendid State and all its citizens 
 have reason to take profound pride, wlu)se life every 
 aspiring young iMissourian may well afford to emnlate. 
 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 I5RIEF ACCOl'NT OF AXCESTRY.— EARLY LIFE 
 IN ILLINOLS AND MIi<b>OLAIL— KECOMEvS 
 A STUDENT AND FITS HIMSELF 
 FOR TEACHING. 
 
 It is doubtful if there has ever lived a man. not 
 graduated from any institution of learning, who has 
 attained the prominence in educational affairs that has 
 James ^1. Greenwood. 
 
 In the person of Dr. Oreenwodd is found an exam 
 ])le of the superintendent of one of the leading school 
 systems of America, honored with the highest offices 
 within the gift of his co-workers, who is not an alumnus 
 of any instit^6on and who attended school but seven 
 years of his life I 
 
 Perhaps it was best for himself, as well as those 
 whom he inHuenced in his professional province, that 
 he was not educated within the bounds of an university 
 curriculum, for the world has been Greenwood's school, 
 from which he has derived some of the most beneficial 
 lessons, which doubtless he could not have learned had 
 he been educated elsewhere; and from this experience 
 many traits of his personality were developed that are 
 not common to many university-trained educators. 
 
270 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 During the reigns of James I. and Charles I., tlie 
 spint of Puritanism, which had been developing in 
 England for many years, continued more than ever to 
 leaven the society of the country and even Parliament 
 itself. And so when the court of High Commission be- 
 gan its lutiless persecution of the Puritans, that sect 
 could no longer subject itself to tortures more excruci 
 atiug than those of the most barbarous ages, and ac- 
 cordingly they secured patents and companies for the 
 organization of settlements in the New World. 
 
 From 1G29 to 1G40 the Puritan exodus continued, 
 and the coast of New England, from Maine to Virgin- 
 ia, was peopled with their settlements. Among the 
 twenty thousand or more who came to America in this 
 interim was a band who settled in Virginia in 1635 — ■ 
 five years after John Winthroj) had fouuded Boston. 
 In this band of people who had left “dcn^ohl England” 
 for a place where they might have ‘‘freednm to worship 
 God,” was a family bearing the name of Greenwood, 
 former residents of Yorkshire. 
 
 In common with the other colonists, this rugged 
 family braved the storms of winter in their rude huts, 
 fought the wild beasits and treacherous Indians and 
 adapted the soil to cultivation. This family became 
 more or less conspicuous all during the colonial history 
 of Virginia. James M. Greenwood is a lineal descend- 
 ant of this family, they having been his paternal 
 ancestors, 
 
■JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 271 
 
 About the middle of the eighteenth century, there 
 emigrated to America from Scotland a family by the 
 name of Mickleborough. The father and mother of this 
 Scotch family were the maternal great-grandparents of 
 James ]\I. Greenwood. One of the daughters of this 
 household married a man named Daniel, Greenwood's 
 great-grandfather. A daug'hter of this union married 
 I’eytoii Foster, a son of William Foster, a South Caro- 
 linan by birth and a descendant of a French family that 
 settled in the Palmetto State. AMlliam Foster served 
 with distinction under George Washington. Peyton 
 Foster's eldest daughter, Jeannette Foster, married 
 Edmund Greenwood — the jtarents of Dr. James M. 
 Greenwood. 
 
 In 1837 the JNIississippi Valley was in most places a 
 desert region. Here and there, of course, the sturdy 
 pioneers had begun to reclaim spots of it from the abo- 
 rigines, but in the main the whole region presented 
 the same asjiect that it did when the creation of the 
 vast domain was completed. 
 
 In no country does time bring about such revolu- 
 tionary changes as in America, particularly in the 
 ^^'est. Even it is difficult for those well learned in his 
 lory to conceive that there are men to-day active in the 
 world's affairs who in boyhood lived in the great Miss- 
 issippi A'alley when the greater part of that enormous 
 territory was a land luactically primeval. 
 
 —18— 
 
272 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 In the western part of this country the buffalo 
 roamed in countless herds; in the foi’est the bear, deer, 
 turkey, and wild-cat lived undisturbed. Near the 
 northern limits of this domain the woodman’s axe had 
 not cleared a pathway through the dense forests, while 
 in the central j)ortion of this productive area only here 
 and there were occasional settlements, principally emi- 
 grants from Virginia and Kentucky. Where now are 
 located many cities, sustaining factories, mills and 
 varied industries, there were then waving prairies un- 
 disturbed by the ]»low of progress, or dense forests un- 
 touched l»y the axe of civilization. St. Louis was then 
 a cit,y of only a few thousand inhabitants, while the 
 present site of Kansas City was then peopled by In- 
 dians. St. Paul was not founded until one year later, 
 and New Orleans, at the extreme southern limit of this 
 territory, was the principal city contained within its 
 approximate borders. Chicago, now the second city of 
 America, had just received its first charter. 
 
 It Avas during the existence of such conditions, and 
 in such environments, that James Mickleborough 
 < ireeiiAVO(»d was born, November 15, 1837, in Sangamon 
 Cotiuty, Illinois — where his grandfather had moved 
 from ^J]'glnia in 1824— in the heart of a vast expanse 
 of rolling prairie that Avas then being reclaimed from a 
 wilderness by y)ioneer settlers. The Aullage, Lick 
 Creek, noAV Loami, near AA’hich he Avas born, in the next 
 
JAMES M. aREENWOOD. 
 
 273 
 
 sixty-two years attained to a population not exceeding 
 a thousand jjersons. 
 
 The life-stories of America’s successful men are 
 always interesting to Americans when the inceptions 
 of their careers are attended with struggles and vicissi- 
 tudes. The recounting of these stories reminds Amer- 
 icans that the institutions of our country are now just 
 as liberal in their overtures of success to ambitious 
 young men as they have been in the past. 
 
 J. M. Greenwood’s early life was spent amid the 
 vicissitudes of pioneer life, but it was indeed fortunate 
 for the youth that he spent his boyhood amid such con- 
 ditions, for there the spirit of self-reliance was culti- 
 vated; there he lived with Nature, deriving the many 
 lessons always the result of communion with her; there 
 he came to know the difficulties to be overcome in life, 
 and learned that each time he met and overcame them 
 he was so much the stronger and better prepared to 
 battle with those the future holds in store for all. 
 
 The elder Greenwood encountered all the muta- 
 tions common to denizens of the period and place. It 
 is related that until he was twenty years old he had 
 never worn mittens or gloves of any sort. Born in a 
 log cabin in Virginia at an early day, he Avas, as a 
 baby, “rocked to sleep in a sugar-trough” for a cradle, 
 and was a playmate of Abrahtim Lincoln, the vicissi- 
 tudinous story of the youthful experiences of both 
 being very much alike. After paying for his marriage 
 
274 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 license, and upon taking an inventory of liis material 
 possessions, lie found that they aggregated the sum of 
 seventy-live cents, ilardly had he gotten well on the 
 way lo a better hnancial condition when the com- 
 mercial panic of 1837, brought about by the wild specu- 
 lation in \Vestern lauds, came on, and the effect of it was 
 everywhere felt. (Ireenwood, like others of the vicin- 
 age, expeiienced keenly the period of financial strin- 
 gency, and he was compelled to labor hard in order to 
 provide the means of sustenance for his family. It was 
 in this year that James M. Greenwood was born, and in 
 the snbseiiuent years of his childhood he encountered 
 the hardships peculiar to the time and locality. 
 
 Asa child he was precocious, a desire for learning 
 being one of his elements of character early manifested. 
 The first money he ever possessed was fifty cents, which 
 amount was given liim by his parents as a compensa- 
 tion for taking some unpalatable medicine that the 
 doctor had prescribed for a rising in his head. His 
 sickness lasted several weeks, and during which, al- 
 though but six years old, he evidenced a remarkable 
 spirit of magnanimity toward his brother and sister. 
 
 “Father," said he, beckoning his parent to the bed 
 side, “yon take these bits and pickaynnes when you go 
 to fhe store and get sister a spelling-book, Pate a prim- 
 er, and me a second reader.” His father bought the 
 books and distributed them as James had specified. 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 275 
 
 At ten years of age he entered the country school, 
 attending until he was sixteen 3'ears of age. An insati- 
 al'le desire for knowledge characterized his school life. 
 As soon as he had learned to read, the sn])plies of the 
 School and neighborhood were exhausted, regardless of 
 authors or subjects. A fondness for mathematics was 
 early manifested, and while in the country school he 
 worked through all the arithmetics obtainable in the 
 neighborhood. Also, before he had been in school two 
 terms he could spell all AVebster's “Blue Back.” In 
 order that his studying might not conflict with his 
 farm duties, he found it necessary to study on rainy 
 days and Sundays that he might progress as a student. 
 However, despite his application to his work, James 
 always found some unoccupied time, which was invari- 
 ably utilized in playing unotfendiug pranks upon his 
 companions. 
 
 The many stories of mischievous boyhood which 
 are interspersed with graver and more important data 
 in biographical sketches of America's foremost men, 
 aside from their anecdotal interest, serve to show 
 that out of a boyhood, teeming Avith innocent fun, 
 emerges the character and personality which in later 
 years rank higher, under a more diguifled cogno- 
 men than the boy’s nickname. From this the keen ob- 
 server might deduce a line moral and trace the origin of 
 the strength of such a character as well as the causes 
 
276 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 that lead it to develop into such a different aspect in 
 later years. 
 
 In 1852 his father moved to Adair County, Missouri, 
 settling near the present site of Kirksville, and where 
 he still lives. 
 
 Like Allan Quartermain, of Haggard’s creation, 
 young Greenwood was a “mighty hunter'’ in his youth. 
 His boyhood was spent in Adair County during the 
 time of its settlement and when the country abounded 
 in deer and wild turkeys. His early playmates assert 
 that it was no unusual occurrence for him to kill three 
 deer in one day. Dr. Greenwood himself says the most 
 thrilling experience of his life was the first time his 
 father permitted him to go hunting alone. 
 
 “I will never forget the first time,” said Dr. Green- 
 wood, “that father let me take his rifle and go into the 
 woods to hunt deer. The rifle was a short one, the 
 barrel being only thirty-two inches long, and I had 
 never shot a gun more than a dozen times in my life. 
 It was in December, and I called up the two dogs that 
 morning and started into the woods. As I went along 
 I began to think of all the tales that had ever been told 
 me of ‘bucks’ fighting with their horns when wounded, 
 and particularly the admonition of ‘Uncle George,’ an 
 old colored man, who had killed many deer in Kentucky 
 and Missouri, who said: ‘I tells you, chile, neber git 
 
 close to a buck tell he is done dead; ef you do, he ’ll jes 
 turn his ha.ii“ all backwards, and his eyes git green, an’ 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 he ’ll run his prongs right frn you.’ I had gone about 
 a mile and a half when I started into a bend of Salt 
 Itiver; it was nearly a mile around on Ihe inside of the 
 head, forming what is called a horseshoe. The opening 
 of the shoe, where I started iu, was about sixty .yards 
 across, and just inside was a tree that had been blown 
 down during the summer, and the leaves had dried on 
 the branches and still remained there. Out of this 
 ti-eetop bounded a deer and the two dogs took after it. 
 The trees were thick and there was a heav.y nnder 
 growth, so that I got only a glimpse of the deer. I 
 stationed myself about midway of the opening b.y a big 
 tree, with the gun cocked ready to shoot as the deer 
 would rim back to get out of the bend. In a minute or 
 1 wo the dogs began to bark furiously at the farther end 
 of ihe bend, and 1 thought that rather than run on the 
 ice, the buck had turned upon the dogs and was fight- 
 ing them, and that my situation was perilous, indeed, 
 should he whip the dogs. More furious grew the bark- 
 ing and I hated to run, but I felt moi e like running than 
 going forward. I looked ahead to see a tree or sapling 
 lliat I could climb quickly in case of extreme peril. I 
 saw a tree that would afford a means of escape. So I 
 began a series of forward movements from one tree or 
 sa]»ling to another, ready to shoot at the first opportu- 
 nity. The baying of Ihe dogs never ceased for a moment, 
 and theii- position did not appear to change. This gave 
 a little more hope, bui no more courage. By a series of 
 
278 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 diagonal movements, covering about two hours, it 
 seemed to me, I reached a clnmj) of three large soft 
 maples that branched out about live feet from the 
 gi-ound, and I got up there finally, which was about 
 lifly yards from whei-e tlie dogs were. Here I stood 
 with the litle in my hand, trembling and scared, await- 
 ing developments. Hut, notwithstanding the position 
 I now occupied, I could nor see over the bank where Hie 
 dogs were, but 1 could hear splashing in the water. 
 There was no tree or sapling between me and the dogs 
 that I could climb, should the buck attack me. So I 
 decided to remain where 1 was till one side or the other 
 gave uj). I must have been there fully a half-hour 
 whim I saw a wet, dirty liltle sheeji, as I thought, drag 
 itself up the ojtposife bank and strike out across the 
 jirairie boltom in a very slow, weak little gallop. The 
 sheep had gone itOO or 400 yards when it stuck up its 
 muddy tail, and then it Hashed over me that There is 
 till' deer.’ ddie dogs puit barking, and I now felt re- 
 lieved and boldly went to the bank. The’ dogs had 
 chased the deer so closely, and in order to escape it 
 had run in on the ice, which slanted down on each side, 
 leaving an open current of water in the middle of the 
 si ream. The deer was in the water, which did not 
 cover it, while Ihe dogs were on the ice barking at it. 
 Finally it had scrambled up the bank and started otf. 
 
 “A few weeks later I shot my first deer, and many 
 others afterwards, but this to me was the most thrill- 
 
JAMES J\[. GREEyWOOD. 
 
 279 
 
 iiig exj^erience of my life. The old neighbors, where 
 my father still lives, indulge their dry humor at my 
 expense over my narrow escajie.’’ 
 
 The authenticity of snake stories is usually dis- 
 credited. but this incident, in which Dr. Greenwood 
 ligured conspicuously, is not apociyphal: One spring 
 day when he was about eighteen years of age, James 
 and his younger brother were plowing on their father’s 
 farm. AVhen noon-time came, they rode their horses to 
 a creek near by, as was their cust(mi, to allow them to 
 drink. As James rode his horse into the stream, he 
 espied about liftywater moccasin snakes sunning thean- 
 selves on a sand-bar near the bank and on the other side 
 of the pool. ATth his accustomed fearlessness, he 
 spuj red his hoise on until he was alongside the small 
 sand-bar, and then jumped into the midst of the snakes. 
 His brother, in relating the subsequent part of the inci- 
 dent, described it thus: “Such a squirming and wrig- 
 
 gling among snakes I have never seen. All of them 
 tumbled into the water except one big fellow, who fast- 
 ened his fangs into Mick’s [Dr. Greenwood’s] blue over- 
 alls, and such jumping and cracking of heels together I 
 never before witnessed on the part of my brother. I 
 verily believe that Mick cracked his heels together five 
 limes every time he jumped into the air and before he 
 landed on the .sand-bar. Finally the snake, frightened 
 at such phenomenal actions, I presume, loosened his 
 hold and dropped into the water.’’ 
 
280 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 It is needless to add that Dr. Greenwood has not 
 since acted in the rule of snake-charmer. 
 
 Perhaps Dr. Greenwood remembers more vividp 
 than anyone else the day of Polk’s election to the presi- 
 dency — it was the day he '‘took his first chew of tobac- 
 co.” James and his brother had re(|iiested of their 
 father permission to go to a near-by village, where the 
 election was being lield. The retpiest was not granted, 
 and so the younger Greenwood said to his brother: 
 “Never mind, Mick; we’ll go to father’s tobacco- 
 shed and get some ‘long green’ to cheyv.” 
 
 ’I'he boys immediately went to the shed and pro- 
 cured the tobacco, after which they went to a wagon 
 bridge near by, where each put a large amount of the 
 narcotic into his mouth, and, lying down upon the 
 bridge, expectorat(>d the excretion into the running 
 .water. 
 
 “Say, Mick,” said the younger Greenwood, “pa will 
 be sorry he didn't let us go to the election, won’t he'.'”’ 
 “Yes, Pate,” rcidied “Mick,” turning deathly pale; 
 “I ’m sorry I didn’t go myself.” - 
 
 “Why, what ’s the matter, Mick?” said Pate, noticii'g 
 his brother’s uneasiness. 
 
 “Oh, I ’in nearly dead,” replied “Mick” between 
 groans. “Everything seems in a whirl and 1 can’t get 
 up. Oh, I ’m going to die — I know it!” 
 
 Thoroughly alarmed, Pate ran rapidly to the house 
 and summoned his mother and other ladies who were 
 visiting them. 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 281 
 
 “Come to the bridge, quick,” he said. “Mick’s 
 dying.” 
 
 When the party reached the spot, they found “Mick” 
 apparently in the most excruciating agony. He was 
 carried to the house, and it was several hours before he 
 recovered. Dr. Greenwood never attempted the prac- 
 tice again and has not used tobacco in any form since. 
 
 One day during his youth he, in company with a 
 comy»anioJi, went to a neighboring town to dispose of 
 some coon-skins — tlie result of a winter’s trapping, 
 iiis companion was fortunate enough to be the posses- 
 sor of five cents which his mother had given him, in- 
 styucting him to sy)end it in ymrchase of a spool of 
 thread. 
 
 When they made known their desire, the store-keep- 
 er rey)lied that they did not have the commodity in 
 stock, but added, “"We have souie fine apples, though,” 
 at the same time taking numerous fine specimens of 
 the fruit out of the barrel and displa;ydng them on the 
 counter. 
 
 The boys immediately began to fill their pockets, 
 and, witli a ytolite “thank you,” yiroceeded to walk out of 
 the store. 
 
 “Hold on,” cried the storekeeper; “you don’t get 
 them for nothing.” 
 
 “M'hy did you offer them to us, then?’’ retorted the 
 youthful Greenwood, with a mischievous twinkle in his 
 eyes. “We thought you were giving them to us, as we 
 
282 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 didn’t ask you for tlieui and you didn’t say anything 
 about the ]U'ice.” 
 
 Tlie merchant was at first angry, but finally became 
 so amused at the humor of the situation that he told 
 the boys to k(*ep the apples, as they well deserved them. 
 
 James M. Greenwood's father became postmaster at 
 Timbered Ib anch, now Brashear, soon after he came to 
 Missouri, and, in addition to the performance of this 
 duty, he cultivated a small farm. Ilis son’s stay there 
 was alternately spent in assisting his father on the 
 farm, in studying, and in hunting. Educational advan- 
 tages in that section of Missouri were then extremely 
 limited. The nearest school being situated seven miles 
 distant, he was compelled to pursue his studies at home 
 b,v studying on evenings and rainy days, and, unaided, 
 he mastered Latin, algebi-a, geometry', and a work on 
 trigonometry and surveying. 
 
 In those days the settlers were so much engrossed in 
 adai»ting their farms for cultivation that little atten- 
 tion was paid to educational matters. The family 
 library comprised only the Bible, a few standard works, 
 such as “Pilgrim’s Progress,” “Scottish Chiefs,” “Rob- 
 inson Crusoe,” and so forth, while text-books, aside 
 from those included in the limited curriculum of the 
 pioneer school, were scarcely to be found. 
 
 Greenwood, having exhausted the limited supply of 
 books to be found in the community, was disconcerted 
 about the prospects of securing other volumes, but 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 283 
 
 aboul this time a man of considerable learning died not 
 far from the youth's home. This indi^ idnal had been 
 tlie possessor of a number of text-books and works on 
 general topics, so (Ireenwood determined to secure at 
 least a portion of the deceased man’s library. With 
 the proceeds from a calf whi(di he had sold, he pur- 
 chased several volumes, comprising A^irgil, Stoddard s 
 Latin Grammar, Salkeld’s hirst Spanish Book, But- 
 ler’s Analogy, Olinstead’s Bhilnsophy, and Davies’ Ele- 
 mentary Algebra, Geometry, and Surveying. L^uaided 
 he j»ored over these volumes, mastering the mathemat- 
 ics with ease and obtaining more than an ordinary 
 knowledge of the Latin and S[)anish languages. In th ■ 
 philoso})hical studies he became especially proticient. 
 In the work on algebra he solved every problem, de- 
 sp’ite that he had never seen that text-book until h ^ 
 bought one, as told. 
 
 <• 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 BEGINS ms LIFE-WORK.— EARLY SCHOOL- 
 TEACHING.— SERVES IN UNION ARMY. 
 
 —TEACHES AT HUNTSVILLE 
 AND KTRKSVILLE. 
 
 Greenwood’s removal to Missouri, in 18.52, was at 
 an opportune time. Tlie State was then beginning to 
 rapidly develop both in commercial and educational 
 ways. The commonwealth then had but a population 
 of 685,000; the construction of the Missouri Pacific 
 Railroad from St. Louis to the western border of the 
 Slate was in progress. At the same time the construc- 
 tion of the St. Louis A San Francisco, -the Hannibal 
 & St. Joseph, the Wabash, and the Iron Mountain 
 railroads was projected. The State was just turning 
 its attention in a concerted way towards the betterment 
 of its school system. Tliat Dr. Greenwood’s progress 
 in his profession has been Commensurate with his 
 adoi»ted State’s the perusal of the story of his life will 
 substantiate. 
 
 The country school has always been a sort of train- 
 ing-place for men who have taken up the work of a 
 rural teacher in order to fit themselves for other work 
 and to secure finances for the pursuance of study for 
 other professions. Out of the pioneer district schools 
 
JAMES M. aREENWOOD. 
 
 285 
 
 have emanated maiiT of the leaders of the world’s prog- 
 ress in thought, speech, and action. Excepting Mark 
 Twain, all the subjects of these sketches were, at early 
 stages of their life, teachers in obscure schools. 
 
 Dr. Greenwood is the only one of this number who 
 continued in the profession, the remainder adopting 
 other vocations. His desire to become a teacher was 
 early evinced, and although he later spent some time in 
 the study of law, he soon abandoned the project, for his 
 predilection for teaching again asserted itself. His 
 reason for discontinuing the study of law was, to use 
 his own words, “Xot being suited for the profession, I 
 found it to be a splendid opportunity for starving to 
 death, and for that reason quit.” 
 
 His first school was taught in Adair County, Mis 
 souri, when he was sixteen years of age. Because of his 
 youthful appearance, some of the older pupils evinced 
 a disposition to disobey the rules of the young peda- 
 gogue, and thought that Greenwood would be incapable 
 of managing them. But in This they were soon unde- 
 ceived, for they soon learned that their teacher was not 
 lacking in the qualities that constitute a good disciplin- 
 arian. Xo particular event or feature of his early 
 teaching characterized this period, save that his schools 
 were well conducted and his patrons considered him an 
 efficient instructor. 
 
 lintil he was sixteen years old. Greenwood had at- 
 tended school only six seasons. From the time he was 
 
286 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 sixteen until he was twenty the youth was in attendance 
 at school only twenty-five days, hut in the meanwhile he 
 had been absorbed in study at home, when books were 
 procurable. 
 
 In 1857, he entered the Methodist Seminary at Can- 
 ton, Missouri, where he left a most brilliant record. 
 This institution was at that time one of the strongest 
 in northeastern Missouri. 
 
 Greenwood was undemonstrative in his dress and 
 demeanor, and vhen as an unsophisticated country 
 youth he entei-ed the school, some of his fellow-students 
 were disposed to excite fun at his rustic appearance. 
 Nothing daunted, he ignored their effrontery and quick- 
 ly forced a change in their attitude and opinions, for 
 they soon realized and appreciated his ability and clear 
 intellect, which w'ere always shown in the class-rojin 
 and elsewhere. 
 
 A friend and schoolmate said of him: “Dr. Green- 
 
 wood devouily loved two things — fun and niatht'- 
 matics.” Anent the former predilection an incident 
 connected with his school life in Canton is related; 
 Greenwood had attached a piece of paper to the back of 
 a schoolmafe’s coat, with some humorous phrase writ- 
 teen thereon. This afforded much amusement for the 
 students, but the butt of the joke failed to appreciate 
 the situation, and, turning to those who were laughing, 
 very vehemently said, “I ’ll thrash the fellow to an inch 
 of his life who did this.” Greenwood, with an amused 
 
JAMES M. aREENWOOD. 
 
 287 
 
 twinkle and fearless expression in his eyes, arose and 
 replied to the challenge: “Very well, sir; I’m the 
 
 man; come on.” When his wonld-be assailant surveyed 
 young Greenwood’s splendid physique, he very wisely 
 declined to accept the challenge, saying, “All right, but 
 not to-day.” 
 
 One day during the recitation period he rose to 
 answer some question propounded by the preceptor. It 
 so chanced that Greenwood had been sitting under the 
 stairs that led to an upper room and in arising his head 
 came in violent contact with the slanting wall. Of 
 course the entire assemblage laughed, and, much dis 
 concerted, the subject of their amusement sat down. 
 That night he resolved to get revenge upon his mirth- 
 ful associates by so thoroughly learning his lesson for 
 the morrow that they would no longer scoff at him, and 
 he did. The next day at the recitation he gave a cor- 
 rect response to every question asked him, and to-day 
 he is familiar with nearly the entire contents of the text- 
 book — Sillimau's Chemistry. 
 
 His former classmates, many of whom live in north- 
 ern Missouri, aver that his record at the Seminary was 
 without a parallel in the history of the institution. 
 Certainly few, if any, have equalled it, for, had his 
 health not failed a short time before the close of the 
 term, he would have been graduated after having com- 
 pleted a four-years course in the short period of nine 
 moutlis. He discontinued his studies at the school in 
 — 19 — 
 
288 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Api il, 1S5S, and, although not receiving a degree from 
 lh(* inslilnlion, lie ja actically completed the course, and 
 successfully passed examinations in twenty dilTerent 
 hraiiehes, including lln* common branches. 
 
 hil(‘ at the Methodist Seminaiy he was appointed 
 to invite Smiator daim's Ste]dien (treeii, then in the 
 zmiitli of his career, to address tin* literary society of 
 which (ireemwood was a member. Senator Green was 
 so favorably imjii-essed with the young student that he 
 said to him: ‘'Young man, I will do so with pleasui'o, 
 and shall be glad to aid you in any way in the future, if 
 it be possible." The Senator ]>res(*nted Greenwood with 
 the current issue of the Smithsoniau rei»orts, which was 
 the nucleus of a voluminous scientitic library that he 
 now ])ossess(‘s. 
 
 ^^'hen (treenwood hd't the Seminary, he completed 
 his career as a student in school, having attended places 
 of instruction but seven years. 
 
 ^Vfter leaving the Seminary, Dr. Greenwood siieni 
 several years on his father's farm, and while living there 
 he was mari'ied, November 1, ISoh, to Miss Amanda 
 McDaniel, who at that time was a teacher in Kirksville. 
 
 On July 4th of that year he delivered a speech. at a 
 local celebration and for several years annually spoke 
 on these occasions. Ills speeches were always jiatriotic 
 in character, and in this connection it might be added 
 that he has never made a political s]»eech of any sort. 
 
 In 18ti2 he enlisted in the Missouri militia, serving 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 289 
 
 until December 10, 1804, when he was mustered out. 
 
 Greenwood, while a member of the militia, chanced 
 to read a copy of the Safiirdai/ Evening Post, which at 
 that time was conducting a column of matheniatica] 
 problems. The leading mathematicians of America 
 and Europe were contributors to the department, either 
 sending in propositions or solutions of those previously 
 published. One of the }>ropositions in the issue Green- 
 wood secured, read: “If a cube be thrown in the air, 
 
 and a musket ball be hi-ed at it, what is the chance that 
 the ball will pass through opjiosite faces?” Solutions 
 were sent in by the leading mathematicians of the 
 Enited States and Europe. Prof, ll'oolhouse, head of 
 the department of mathematics in the Koyal Military 
 Arademy of England, was the author of the problem, 
 and, as Greenwood's jirocess of solving the problem 
 was the simpler, his exidanation was awarded }uec(‘- 
 dence. This incident is made tlie more remarkable 
 when it is remend)ered that the young mathematician, 
 excepting one year in college, had puisued his studies 
 along that line unaided and at his home. The award- 
 ing of the honors in the contest to this young man, 
 whose reputation was only ])rovincial, excited interesi 
 in his personality on the part of prominent American 
 educators, and he received letters of congratulation and 
 impiiry from all over the United States. 
 
 Among his comrades in the Civil War was a resident 
 of Lima, Illinois, who wrote to Greenwood stating that 
 
290 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MISSOURI AFS. 
 
 a teacher was soon to be elected to teach a school in a 
 district adjacent to the village, and urged him to apply, 
 lie re[)lied that he had never formally applied for a 
 scliool, and never would, but if the directors decided to 
 consider his name, it would be satisfactory to him. 
 Upon the recommendation of his friend, the directors 
 wrote to Greenwood asking him to come to Lima, as 
 they desired to make his acquaintance. 
 
 Greenwood went to Lima, where he met two of the 
 directors in the village drug store, the other one irot 
 being in town at the time. It so happened that these 
 two were Dennwrats, while the absentee was a Repub- 
 lican. The two of similar political belief escorted the 
 teacher to the rear of the store; then the spokesman 
 said, “What ’s your ]»olitics?” Whereupon Greenwood 
 re])lied, “None of your business.” Before the astounded 
 directoi's could comment upon this fearless and unusual 
 declaration, the young teacher continued : “If you want 
 pnlitics taught in your school, you will be compelled to 
 look about for another teacher, for I hn too good a 
 patriot to be a partisan and too good a Christian to be a 
 sectarian.” 
 
 'When the other director arrived, the two who had 
 interrogated Greenwood told him of the teacher’s reply. 
 After a short consultation, they decided to employ 
 Greenwood as teacher of the school. 
 
 One warm day in August he went to Quincy to be 
 examined for a certificate by the school commissioner 
 
JAMES M. GltEENWOOD. 
 
 291 
 
 of Adams Coimty, Illinois. The commissioner went 
 with him to his oflice, where he wrote the required ques- 
 tions upon a black-board, and said that the examinee 
 might have three hours in which to complete the re- 
 (piired examination. 
 
 Greenwood said to him: '‘Can you come back here 
 
 in twenG’ minutes'?” 
 
 “Why do you wish me to come back at the expiration 
 of that time?” asked the commissioner. 
 
 “Well, sir,” said Greenwood, “I can answer those 
 (piestions in that time, and I would like to know 
 whether I have successfnll}- passed the examination, as 
 1 am in a hnii-y to go back to Lima.” 
 
 “I cannot come back at that time, for I will be busy 
 nearly all the afternoon,” replied the commissioner. 
 
 “Then give me an oral examination. I can answer 
 the questions quickly,” Greenwood said with assurance. 
 
 The examiner consented, and began to ask him nu- 
 merous questions, all of which the candidate answered 
 satisfactorily. Then the commissioner requested him 
 to give all the sounds of the letter a. Greenwood 
 gaA'e them so quickly and in such a loud tone that the 
 examiner said: “That will do; you are entitled to a cer- 
 tiftcate, and a first grade at that. It will be the first 
 one of that class that has been issued in this county.” 
 
 When he was employed to teach this school, the 
 board of directors was somewhat perplexed over the 
 situation in the district. One of the directors has since 
 
292 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 said that it was with luuch misgiving that Greenwood 
 was em])loved. This, however, was soon disj>elled, for 
 no teacher there had won half the success Greenwood 
 achieved. The secret of his success is said to have been 
 liis exceptional discernment' of liuman nature, and espe- 
 cially his peculiar capacity for winning the friendship 
 and confidence of his scholars. 
 
 This was in 18G:>-4. As soon as his school was com- 
 pleted, he reenlisted in the Union Army, April, 18(14, 
 and was in service until the tenth of December, 18(i-l, 
 when he was again mustered out. 
 
 Ileturniug to his Adair County home, he was em- 
 I)loyed to teach a three-months term of school near his 
 home. Shortly after the school term began, the presi- 
 dent of the board of education went to Quincy, Illinois, 
 where he .contracted the small-pox. His return home 
 excited the community, and, fearing that the continu- 
 ance of the school might propagate the disease, the 
 directors deemed it best to close the school after six 
 weeks’ session. 
 
 He then went to Kirksville, where he obtained em- 
 ]iloyment in the ottice of the circuit clerk of Adair 
 County; Init the court-house burned on the day of Lee's 
 sm-render. Returning to his father's home, he worked 
 all the summer on the farm. 
 
 In August, 1 805, tlie directors of the school at Lima 
 ^^'rote to him that they desired him to again conduct 
 their school. He accepted their olTer, teaching one sea- 
 
■LUfES OnEEXJVOOD. 
 
 293 
 
 son with as muoh success as he had conducted their 
 scho(d two years before. 
 
 His next school was tauf^ht in Knox County in 186G. 
 beginning in September, at the completion of which he 
 again went to his father’s farm, where he lived until 
 September, 1 807. 
 
 In September, 1807, Dr. Joseph Baldwin, an edu- 
 cator, who probably did more for the cause of poi>ular 
 education than any other man in the State during his 
 fourteen years of residence in Missouri, opened a private 
 normal school at Kirksville, Missouri, having associated 
 with him James ^1. Greenwood, ^Irs. Amanda A. Green- 
 wood, W. I’. Nason, Frank L. Ferris, and !Mis. Kate 
 h\u-ris. 
 
 The story of how Dr. and ^Irs. Greenwood became 
 connected wdlli the institution is uni({ue. One day dur- 
 ing the summer preceding the opening of the school, Dr. 
 Baldwin went out to the Greenwood homestead intend- 
 ing to purchase a cow. As a result of this common- 
 place incident. Dr. Greenwood and his wife became 
 teachers in the school. Baldwin and Greenwood con- 
 versed for some time after the trade relating to the cow 
 had been made, and the former said to Greenwood: 
 “Mr. Greenwood, how would you like to teach next 
 season in the Normal’?” 
 
 “I don’t know, but I think perhaps 1 would like to 
 do so,” answered Greenwood. 
 
294 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 “Well, with your permission, I will recommend yon 
 lo the hoard of regents,"’ Dr. Baldwin said. 
 
 Dr. (treenwood cons<mted to this proposition, and 
 the board of regents, acting upon 1‘resident Baldwin's 
 suggestion, tendered him Ihe chair of mathematics and 
 logic, which he successfully held for six years. Bald- 
 win also recommended Mrs. Greenwood as itrincipal of 
 the model training department of the school, to which 
 jMtsition she was elected. 
 
 As teacher of mathematics in this institution over a 
 (puu'ter of. a century ago he lu'came recognized through- 
 out Missouri and other States as an unusually able 
 mathematician. Throughout Missouri are many teach- 
 (‘I's of mathematical science who were pupils of James 
 M. Greenwood in this school. 
 
 About this lime the first teachers’ institute was held 
 in northeaslern Missouri. The statement sometimes 
 made that Mi‘. Greenwood is the originator of the teach- 
 ers' institute in Missouri is en’oneons. 
 
 In Adair County, Janies M. Greenwood, Rev. W. B. 
 Nason, and Rev. Daniel Kinter conceived the idea of 
 holding an institute for the general improvement of 
 teachers in northeastern Missouri. Accordingly they 
 rented a hall in Kirksville one summer mouth and an- 
 nounced a forthcoming “teachers’ institute,” hut the 
 teachers of the county were chary and paid but little 
 h(‘ed to the innovative iirocedure in their midst. How- 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 295 
 
 ever, not disconcerted, Greenwood, Nason, and Kinter 
 met, selected topics, and proceeded to hold an institute, 
 ignoring the situation that they were alone in their 
 etl'orts. Dar' after day they met, determined to make 
 the institute a success despite the lack of attendance 
 and absence of enthusiasm from their fellow-teachers. 
 Curiosity brought a few to the hall where the three en- 
 tlmsiasts were conducting a teachers' institute with as 
 much assurance as if the hall were tilled with attentive 
 hundreds. 
 
 Without application, Dr. and Mrs. Greenwood were 
 made members of the faculty of Mount Pleasant Col- 
 lege, at ITuntsville, Missouri. Mr. Greenwood taught 
 mathematics, logic, rhetoric, and reading, while his wife 
 instructed in botany, history, and primary work. They 
 taught in this college six months, at the end of which 
 time both resigned, in order that Mr. (treenwood might 
 accept the chair of mathematics in Kirksville Normal, 
 which had been tendered him. 
 
 Two and a half years after the establishment of the 
 Kirksville Normal it was adopted as the first State 
 normal school of I\Iissouri. The board of regents of- 
 fered Greenwood the presidency of the school, which 
 he declined, giving as his reason: ‘‘Dr. Baldwin estab- 
 
 lished the school; has labored hard to sustain and pro- 
 mote it; is a competent and efficient educator, and 
 should be retained as its president.” The regents re- 
 
296 
 
 FIVE FAA^)ES MI880ERIAN8. 
 
 taiiied Baldwin as president and Greenwood became 
 teaclier of matlieniatics in the school. 
 
 About this time l>r. (ireenwood began contributing 
 to mathematical journals of the United States, which he 
 rontiniied to do until recent years. ‘ 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 ELECTED SEPEKIXTEXDEXT OF KANSAS CITY 
 J’TDU.K ' SCHOOLS.— A QUAKTEK CENT- 
 ER ^VORK.— ELECTED TO OF- 
 
 FICES IN EDUCATIONAL 
 ORGANIZATIONS. 
 
 Two facts pertain to two of these famous Missouri- 
 ans that are not usually peculiar to the careers of such 
 men: Richard Parks Rlaiid never had made nor owned 
 
 a cut of himself, while Di-. tireeiiwood never in all his 
 career aj)plied for the juiucipalshi]) or superiuteudeucy 
 of a school. 
 
 Many public men, at least in the inception of their 
 careers, have at their disposition a number of cuts to as- 
 sist news])apers in advocating their interests, and school 
 teachers are usually accustomed to make applications 
 for positions, but in these men there have ever been 
 exce]jtions to the customs. 
 
 In June, 1874, J. V. C. Karnes, who was at that time 
 treasurer of the Board of Education of Kansas City, 
 wrote Dr. Greemvond, statin^- that there would soon be 
 a vacancy in the office of superintendent of the Kansas 
 City public schools, and urged Dr. Greenwood to make 
 apjdication for the office. His friends urged him to 
 rejjly, but he at first refused' to do so, saying that he 
 
298 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MIESOVRIANE. 
 
 had l^eeii elected for two years at Kirksville, and, more- 
 over, that a number of the applicants for the superin- 
 tejidency were personal friends of his and he disliked to 
 contest with them tor the office. 
 
 Kventually, however. Greenwood was induced by his 
 friends to go to Kansas City. Karnes wanted to intro- 
 duce him to the directors and asked him to apply for the 
 superintendency, but he replied: “1 have never made 
 
 formal ap])lication for a school and I do not care to 
 now. If the board elects me, then I will serve, but 1 
 will not apj)ly for the position.” After a stay of a day 
 or two in Kansas City, Greenwood returned to Kirks- 
 ville, where he found a telegram awaiting him, an- 
 nouncing that he had been selected superintendent. 
 
 His election was a recognition of Mr. Greenwood’s 
 reputation aud ability as an educator, for among the 
 sixteen applicants for the superintendency at Kansas 
 City, there were many men who were eminent in west- 
 ern educational affairs. 
 
 Kansas City, now a city with an estimated popula- 
 liou of 225,(100, then conlained but 28,000 people. Her 
 schools 'were just beginning to grow- in a manner com 
 meusurate with the city’s development. Hitherto 
 there had been discordant elements within and without 
 the schools of Kansas <Mty, but Greenwood’s coming 
 disi)elled them. l‘>y keen insight’ into (he difficulties 
 and by cai'eful management, he soon succeeded in har- 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 299 
 
 mnnizing these elements, which liave, because of his 
 prudence and tact, remained ever since in harmony. 
 
 Perhai>s no better estimate of a superintendent’s 
 policy and ideals can be secured than from his annual 
 report. In his lirst auiinal report for the year ending 
 June IS, 1875, submitted to the Board of Education, he 
 said, among other things: 
 
 “The most important and resijonsilde duty the board 
 is i-equired to perform is the selection of competent 
 teachers. The best talent salary will command should 
 be eni])loyed. It is a peremptory duty to the children 
 and also to the public to secure the services of well- 
 (pialified, skillful, and judicious teachers. Xo system 
 of schools having incompetent teachers can achieve real 
 success. As the teacher is so will the school be — the 
 stream never rising above its fountain. 
 
 “Tu an economic point of view, the poor teacher is 
 dear at any price. It is not only a reckless waste of 
 money to cmjdoy such, but the positive injury inflicted 
 uiK)n the children can not be estimated in dollars and 
 cents. 
 
 “At times, it re<|uires all the heroism of a martyr for 
 members of a school board to say Xo! when besieged by 
 a]ij)licants for positions. 
 
 “Rather than employ incompetent teachers, it would 
 be far better to make charitable donations to such and 
 then advise them to follow some other vocation. 
 
300 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MIS80V1UAF8. 
 
 “Managing? and teaching require tact and skill; tact 
 in management and skill in imparting instruction. The 
 teacher must know ivlial to do, and //cm; to do. Novices 
 and experimenters should practice npon other material 
 than mere school-children. 
 
 “Teachers learn how to tea/di either in a regular 
 training school, or after years of experience in the 
 school-room. 
 
 “To ennmerate the essential (lualifications of the 
 successful teacher w’ould exceed the limits of this arti 
 cle; hut among other considerations the following are 
 perha])s lueeminent ; 
 
 “1, commoii sense; 2, ability to manage and to har- 
 monize confiicting interests; 3, adaptability to school 
 room work ; 4, a good knowledge of what education 
 means and what it is; 5, knowledge of the branches to 
 be taught; 0, skill and ingenuity in ini])arting instruc- 
 tion; 7, a deep and abiding interest in the welfare of the 
 (diildren; 8. a culti-yated v(»ice and manner ; 9, a love for 
 the work.” 
 
 Greenwood’s second yeai- at Kansas City, 1875-6, 
 witnessed a prosperous condition of the schools. A 
 net gain of 255 in average daily attendance was made 
 over the preceding year. The per cent of attendance 
 was 92.00, while in 1874-5 it was 91.85. One of the most 
 important lessons tauglit in the schools was that of 
 punctuality, which Greenwood said was “certainly akin 
 to the cardinal virtues.” 
 
JAMES M. aREENWOOD. 
 
 301 
 
 111 his second aiiiiiial i-e]»oit, Dr. Greenwood had to 
 say about corporal pnnishmeiit: “Last year I ^aye 
 
 iniicli patient thought to the subject of corporal punish- 
 menf; not with the ayowed purpose of excluding it en- 
 tirely from our schools, because such action would, iu 
 ni_v opinion, haye been injudicious and siibyersiye to the 
 ends sought to be accouijilished; but to regulate its ad- 
 ministration in such a manner as to make it beneficial, 
 if jmssible, wheneyer it should be inflicted. Careful in- 
 yestigation and practical experience conyince me that 
 in nine cases out of ten in which corporal punishment 
 (Ayhippingl is inflicted, that either the parent or teacher 
 ought to be whijtped instead of the child. ■ This is n 
 harsh sentence, yet it is true."’ 
 
 Greenwood’s second year was eminently a sm'cessfiil 
 one. Decided improyement in teaching manj branches 
 was made: reading was better taught; geography was 
 taught in an attractive manner not hitherto employed; 
 penmanshi]) had just begun to be instructed upon a 
 scientific basis, while drawing had been introduced and 
 jiroved to be a most im]iortant factor in cultiyafing the 
 hand, the eye, and the imagination. A teachers' insti- 
 tute met regularly on the last Saturday of each school 
 month in the High School building. Class recitations. 
 (liscii)line. management, teachers' (pialiftcations.and the 
 interjiretation of the principles of education were pre- 
 sented and discussed in their several relations to public 
 schools, which proved to be of much benefit to the corps 
 
302 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 of toachers. The institute was an effective agency for 
 connminicating tlie superintendent’s plans of instruc- 
 tion and of discipline to the teachers, simplifying the 
 management of the schools and moving every depart- 
 TiK'nt with harmony and ])recision. 
 
 In 1870, Dr. Greenwood was elected President of 
 the ^lissouri State Teachers' Association, serving as its 
 chief officer for one year. 
 
 The school year 1870-77 placed the Kansas City 
 scliool system upou a higher plane. Superinteudeut 
 Gi'eenwood once said, in one of his reports: “Low ideals 
 ]uw)dnce poor schools, and just in j)roportion as the 
 tf'acher's notion of what good teaching is will the school 
 im])i'ove or degenerate in quality. The only motto we 
 Imve is to gather in the best there is in teaching in the 
 whole country, and use it in our schools.” He con- 
 stantly urged the elevation of the scholarship of teach- 
 ers employed in Kansas City. “There is but one way to 
 keep the schools up to the standard of excellence they 
 have already obtained, and that is to employ teachers 
 competent to do the work. * * * * Ex-Governor 
 
 Hardin was fullj' impressed with the importance of the 
 teacher's position when he said it required more skill 
 and judgment to manage propei ly all of the interests of 
 a large school than to govern the State of Missouri. 
 While this may be a strong figure of speech, it never- 
 theless contains a great deal of truth.” He urged the 
 teachers to read educational works; to be diligent in- 
 
JAMEii M. ah'EEXWOOD. 
 
 303 
 
 tei'preters of mental phenomena; and to familiarize 
 themselves with the best that there is in progressive 
 education. 
 
 From a small beginning in the fall of 1867, the pub- 
 lic schools of Kansas City grew in prosperity and use- 
 fulness until the close of the school year 1877-78, when 
 they became recognized as unsurpassed by any public 
 school system of the entire West. 
 
 The year 1878-79 was marked by the increased fa- 
 cilities for the accommodation of the rapidly increasing 
 enrollment. The year 1879-80 also witnessed a rapid 
 increase in the attendance, the enumeration being an 
 increase of three thousand eight hundred and fifty over 
 the preceding year. 
 
 In 1884, Superintendent Greenwood was elected a 
 member of the Xational Council of the Educational As- 
 sociation, and for years was chairman of the Committee 
 on Statistics, etc. 
 
 He was selected to revise Ray's Higher Arithmetic, 
 the revision being completed in 1885. 
 
 Two years later his well-known work, ‘‘Principles of 
 Education Practically Applied,” was issued from the 
 publishing house of D. Appleton & Company. The 
 same year he was elected a life director of the National 
 Educational Association. 
 
 In 1888. Dr. Greenwood wrote the historical sketch 
 of Missouri for Butler's Advanced Geography. This 
 supplement is equivalent to a 12mo book of eighty 
 
 pages. 
 
 — 20 — 
 
304 
 
 FIVE FUIOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 For many years there has existed a close friendshij) 
 between Greenwood and Dr. William T. Harris, Nation- 
 al Commissioner of Education. This incident serves to 
 illustrate their intimacy and at the same time tells of 
 Harris’ remarkable apx)ointment to a bureau chiefshij). 
 
 At the time of President Benjamin Harrison’s in- 
 auguration, the Dei)artment of Sux)erintendents held 
 its annual meeting in Washington. This organization 
 is nou-i)artisan, and there was consequently consider- 
 able speculation among the suiierintendents regarding 
 the ai)pointment to be made by the President. About 
 a dozen Eepublican educators were aspiring to the Co , n- 
 missionership of Education, but there was a concensus 
 of opinion, irrespective of the superintendents’ par- 
 tisan opinions, that Dr. William T. Harris, formerly 
 superintendent of tbe St. Louis city schools, was the 
 proper man for the i^osition if he would accept the 
 office. To this all the aspirants agreed save one, who 
 had, during the Civil War, been commander of a bri- 
 gade under General Harrison. At the time the con- 
 sultation was held. Dr. Harris was not in Washington, 
 but was expected to arrive ihere before the close of the 
 session. Since leaving the St. Lonis schools he had 
 been busily engaged in editing various publications for 
 D. Appleton & Co. It was agreed by the aspirants 
 for the commissionership, except the one previously 
 indicated, that Dr. Greenwood, because of his intimate 
 acquaintance with Harris, should ascertain the proba- 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 305 
 
 bility of the latter’s acceptance, if the position were 
 tendered him. Greenwood replied that he would do 
 so with pleasure, and report the result, all the candi- 
 dates being his warm personal friends. At luncheon, 
 the second day of the session, he asked Dr. Harris if 
 he would accept the position. He replied: “I voted 
 against President Harrison. I do not agree with the 
 Republicans on the tariff, and, besides, I can do noth- 
 ing whatever toward securing the position.” Then 
 Dr. Greenwood said: “Mr. Harris, the educators of 
 this country want you at the head of the system of the 
 United States.” Harris then replied to this statement; 
 “If, under the circumstances I have mentioned, the 
 President should offer it to me, I will accept it.” “All 
 right,” said Dr. Greenwood; “we will do our best.’’ 
 
 The third day of the session the superintendents 
 were invited to the White House at 12 m. While be- 
 ing introduced to the President, about fifteen of the 
 superintendents, among them Dr. Greenwood, were 
 invited to remain a few minutes, and then each had a 
 few minutes’ conversation with the President. It was 
 the opinion of Greenwood that he was “sizing-up’’ the 
 Republican candidates. 
 
 But when the time came for making the appoint- 
 ment, President Harrison sent for Dr. Harris, and the 
 latter frankly told the President how he had voted and 
 that politically he would do nothing to secure the ap- 
 pointment. The President replied to this that the edu- 
 
306 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 caloi's of I lie count l y wanted liiin appointed and that 
 he would nominate him. Pending the nomination, the 
 other candidate, as is told h_v a I'esident of Boston, 
 W(*nt to see Pi(*sident Ilarrison to urge his own candi-' 
 dacy. ^^’hen the candidate hroacdied the subject, the 
 President ipiickly asked him: ^‘How would Dr. Harris 
 do?’’ The candidate, knowing Harris’ eminent quali- 
 fications, conld but rejdy, “Admirably.” “Well,” said 
 Harrison, “I will ap]ioint him.” 
 
 P]ion the election of Grover Cleveland to the jn'esi- 
 dency, he retained Dr. Harris in oftice, as has his snc- 
 cessoi'. President ^IcKinley. 
 
 Thus the present Commissioner enjoys the unique 
 distinction of being a bureau chief appointed without 
 any consideration of his partisan opinions and by a 
 member of a political jiarty against wdiich he had 
 always voted. In this respect the well-known and 
 scholarly Commissioner has been fortnnate, having held 
 the office during the administrations of three presidents, 
 re]iresenting two political parties. 
 
 “A Complete Manual on Teaching Arithmetic, 
 Algebra, and Geometry, including a Brief History of 
 tlu'se Branches,” was written by Dr. Greenwood, and 
 published by Maynard, Merrill Company, New York, 
 1890. The same year he was elected Treasurer of the 
 National Educational Association, and held the office 
 for live years, resigning in 1895 in order to go to Europe. 
 
JAMES M. riREEXWOOI). 
 
 307 
 
 111 the years 1890-91 he revised Welsh’s English 
 Grammars. 
 
 In 1893 he was one of the members of the “Com- 
 mittee of Fifteen” which reported to the National 
 Education on Pllementary Education. This committee 
 was divided into three subcommittees, consisting of live 
 members each: on the Training of Teachers; on the 
 Correlation of Studies; on the Organization of City 
 School Systems. The Committee on Correlation of 
 Studies was Hon. W. T. Harris, Commissioner of Edu- 
 cation, IV'ashingtou, chairman; Siipt. J. M. Greenwood, 
 Kansas City, Mo., secretary; Supt. C. B. Gilbert, St. 
 Paul, Minn.; Supt. L. H. Jones, Cleveland, Ohio; and 
 Supt. W. H. Maxwell, Brooklyn, N. Y. 
 
 In June, 1895, he left for Europe to enjoy a much 
 needed rest and to observe the progress of education in 
 Ihe principal European countries. The steamship’s 
 passengers comprised United States Commissioner of 
 fiducation Harris, Dr. J. M. Greenwood, Charles A. 
 Dana, of the New York Sun, General Wilson, of Min- 
 nesota. a number of doctors and preachers, and many 
 artists, poets, and consuls. His trip was of much profit 
 both to himself and the educational interests of the 
 United States, since he gave to the public, from the 
 rostrum and through the ])ress, a detailed account of 
 the educational situation in the countries through 
 which he traveled. 
 
308 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Ten years after Superintendent Greenwood was 
 elected a life director of the National Educational As- 
 sociation, he was elected President of that body. That 
 same year, 1897, the curators of the Missouri State Uni- 
 versity, without solicitation or application from any 
 source and without his knowledge, conferred the degree 
 of Doctor of Laws upon Superintendent Greenwood. 
 This act was a fitting recognition of his scholarly 
 attainments. 
 
 Wars are about the most efficient map-changers, but 
 without a war — save of words, and they were mild and 
 diplomatic — Dr. Greenwood was chiefly instrumental 
 in greatly changing the map of the United States. 
 
 Just after the official map of 1897 was issued by the 
 Commissioner General of the Land Office, a copy was 
 sent to the Kansas City public library from the Interior 
 Department at Washington. The map was printed in 
 diversified colors, which showed the expansion of the 
 country from the thirteen Colonies to the time of its 
 issuance. 
 
 One day Dr. Greenwood was looking at the new 
 map and observed that the color which denoted the 
 Louisana Purchase extended to the Pacific coast, and 
 included Oregon and Washington and parts of Mon- 
 tana, Idaho, and Wyoming. 
 
 “I ’m not a master student of American history,” 
 said Dr. Greenwood in relating the incident, “but I 
 know a good deal about my country’s history, and the 
 
'.JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 309 
 
 minute I looked at that map I said to myself: ‘Did the 
 
 Louisiana Purchase extend to the Pacific coast?’ 
 
 “The thought grew on me, and I determined to in- 
 vestigate the matter. I read Ihe letters of Jefferson and 
 Marbios,- one of the French commissioners, and they 
 agreed with my opinion — that the purchase extended 
 only to the foot of what were then known as the Stony 
 Mountains, now the Rockies. I consulted other authori- 
 ties, and they all upheld me. But I looked at a great 
 many maps and found them like the Government map. 
 
 “One afternoon I mentioned the fact to a newspaper 
 reporter. He made a note of it and the next day a long 
 article in regard to the matter was published. That 
 was in December, 1 think. Well, in a few weeks I was 
 getting newspaper clippings and letters from all over 
 the country. Some persons and papers agreed with me 
 and others did not. I still felt certain that I was right, 
 and when Prof. A. B. Hinsdale, of the University of 
 Michigan, came out in a statement upholding me, I 
 knew I was. He is authority on all such things. 
 
 “The matter was discussed in the press for months, 
 the New York papers giving special attention to it. 
 Finally, the Secretary of the Interior Department took 
 it up. When I was in Washington later on, I went to 
 the library and looked over the old maps. They npheld 
 me, showing that the Louisiana Purchase extended only 
 to the Rocky Mountains. One day I stepped into the 
 Department of Engraving and Printing, and, pointing 
 
310 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MIESOVRIAES. 
 
 to the iiiaj) of 1807, asked llie liead of tliat de]»ai-tmeiit 
 Avlieii the ma]) A\'oiild be coiTected. He answered that 
 the matter was under investigation. And I later 
 learned that the change was ordered and that the Com- 
 missiomn- General of the laind Ofiice had recommended 
 that a new map be made. It was, ])erhaps, a mistake 
 of the engraver’s or iM'intei'’s, but it was a mistake, and 
 I knew it when I first looked at the nui]). I am glad 
 that it was cori-ecded.” 
 
 To-day the Kansas City public school system is a 
 criterion after which many Avesteni, and CAmn some 
 eastern, schools are patterned. Their rating and sup- 
 ](ort is mainly due to Dr. GreeiiAAmod’s prudent, skillful, 
 and magnetic intlnence; his ability to grasp relations 
 and determine results. The growth and excellence of 
 the public school system at Kansas City Avas not the 
 result of a year's or live years' Avoik, but is the result of 
 Dr. (ireeuAvood's unceasing labor for a quarter of a cen- 
 tury. He has never been spasmodic in his efforts; on 
 the contrary, they have l)een well-outlined and AA^ell- 
 directed, Avith the A'ieAA’ of theii- ultimately accomplish- 
 ing the end to Avhich he directed his laboi's. 
 
 Thei'e is perha])S no school system in the world 
 Avhere details sncli as ventilation of school rooms, the 
 comfort of children, the possibilities of improvement, 
 the nurturing of every sjiark of character, are looked 
 after with such cai'e as in Kansas City under the super- 
 vision of James M. Greemvood. Himself a tireless 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 311 
 
 worker in every brancli of a teacher’s work, he is coutiu- 
 uously watching the vast system under his control, so 
 assiduously striving for improvement that each passing 
 season witnesses ttie placing of Kansas ('ity educa- 
 tional interests upon a higher plane. 
 
CITAPTER IV. 
 
 DR. GREENWOOD’S PERSONALITY.— HIS LIFE- 
 WORK.— HIS PROMINENCE IN THE 
 EDUCATIONAL WORLD. 
 
 The renowned physiologist, Axenfield, once said: 
 “Men of genius are always the first-born of their 
 parents. Second or third sons may be eminent men, 
 and sons born later may be men of talent, but they can 
 never be great.” 
 
 Axenfield’s assertion is not an infallible law, for 
 many notables have been younger sous. Bismarck and 
 Gladstone were fourth sons. ■ Shakespeare, Charles 
 James Fox, the Duke of Wellington, Lord Lytton, Ten- 
 nyson, and Philip of Macedon were third sons. Other 
 men eminent in literature or affairs of state have been 
 even younger sons of their parents. Benjamin Frank- 
 lin was fifteenth son; Sir Joshua Reynolds, seventh son; 
 Alfred the Great, fifth sou; Sir R. Arkwright, thir- 
 teenth; and so forth. 
 
 Be it as it may, certainly it is a remarkable coinci- 
 dence that four of these five famous Missourians were 
 first-born sous: James M. Greenwood, Champ Clark, 
 
 Richard Parks Bland, and Joseph Orville Shelby. 
 
 In general the transmission of genius can scarcely 
 be questioned, but, as someone has aptly put it, “there 
 
JAMESi M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 313 
 
 is no genius but bard work,” and whatever claim to dis- 
 tinction James M. Greenwood may have is attributed to 
 a life replete with energy directed in the proper chan- 
 nels. He is an incessant worker, and many incidents 
 are told illustrative of this trait. A fellow-teacher and 
 friend related this incident : “When Bowser’s Geometry 
 first appeared, both Supt. Greenwood and I started in 
 to solve the nine hundred original exercises in it. Of 
 course we sometimes consulted one another as to dem- 
 onstrations. I was fresh in the subject, being engaged 
 in teaching it, and took delight in the problems, but, to 
 my great surprise, the old gentleman beat me through 
 by about a month.” 
 
 In Dr. Greenwood there is a conspicuous example of 
 one whose whole soul is in his work. Every fibre of his 
 being is permeated with educational ideas; every stroke 
 of his pen, every wmrd from his mouth, every movement 
 of his body is to the development of a supreme ideal. 
 
 A comprehensive judgment appreciates not only the 
 force of circumstances which creates opportunities for 
 famous men, but the individual and separate links in 
 the chain of life, which, welded together, form the 
 entirety. The judgment is most complete when it dis- 
 cerns the inner personality known to the intimate 
 friends and associates. The world of educators see 
 Dr. Greenwood as one of their trusted fellow-workers, 
 but those who have known him in every-day life in Kan- 
 sas City catch glimpses of the detailed elements of the 
 
314 
 
 FIVE FAMOVE MIESOERI AUS. 
 
 mail's real greatness, while many others see only the 
 prominent features in the contour of his life. 
 
 Ilis personal side is by no means less attractive than 
 his general professional work. Without the self-assur- 
 ance and inij)Osing manner, frecpiently found in the 
 scholarly man, Di-. Greenwood meets an associate or 
 stranger uj)on a friendly footing, always impressing 
 OHe as a man given to the most careful reasoning, the 
 most searching impiiry, the clearest thinking. His 
 characteristic simplicity, frankness of manner and of 
 speech are especially charming. The quiet: and modest 
 reserve usually environing the person of the truly edu- 
 cated and cultured man shows forth plainly in him. 
 The scores of -teachers who labored with him for more 
 than a decade testify to their ajipreciation of him. They 
 speak of him as one of the most constairt of friends, the 
 frankest and sincerest of advisers, as well as the most 
 untiring of workers. 
 
 He has ever been on the alert to familiarize himself 
 with the best that is going on in the educational world. 
 As an evidence of his progressiveness, he was the first 
 American to snl)scribe for the Educational Times, pub- 
 lished in London, the international organ of affairs of 
 education. This was in 18d5, and he has been a contin- 
 uous reader ever since. He has always utilized a por- 
 tion of his time in making his scholarship higher and 
 familiarizing himself with current ideas on his work. 
 ‘Tdow can a teacher inspire children with a burning 
 
JAMES M. (IREENWOOD. 
 
 315 
 
 thirst for kuowledj^o unless llie tire first hiiriit with a 
 fervent glow' n[»on the altar (»f a teacher's heart T’ he 
 said. "How can a teachei- go forth (*ach year to the 
 coin[uest of new realms of thought without enthusiasm 
 and an insatiable desire to extend the boundaries of 
 knowledge? Would that all the teachers in this l»road 
 land of ours could he touched by some magic wand that 
 would arouse them t(» the most intense activity, and fill 
 their souls with a thirst for knowledge that dims not 
 with declining years.” 
 
 Perhaps the nu»st notew'orthy trait in his personality 
 is his originality in thought, speech, and work. He be- 
 lieves in an exercise of the greatest possible individual- 
 ity on the part of principals and their assistant teachers. 
 One of his co-workers, anent this, said: "Nobody w'eais 
 a brass collar in Kansas City. Everyone is expected to 
 think for himself and say what he thinks.” If a teacher 
 has an educational ideal, he is permitted to w'ork it out 
 in practice. Many such ex])eriments have been tried 
 by the principals of the resi>ective schools with high- 
 ly satisfactory results. 
 
 He advocated special chairs of English in colleges 
 and high schools several years before many of the heads 
 of higher institutions would consent to such innova- 
 tions. That he was ultimately successful in his advo- 
 cacy is exemplified by the fact that the Kansas City 
 high school w-as the first in the entire West to effectual- 
 ly and systematically' organize both laboratory science 
 
316 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 and literature, and that many schools have since fol- 
 lowed the precedent he established. 
 
 Another element of Superintendent Greenwood’s 
 policy is his original method of selecting principals and 
 teachers, in which, it is said, Kansas City is unlike any 
 other city in the United States. In many cities there 
 is an objection to “outsiders” and “home talent” is al- 
 lowed to discriminate against persons who have been 
 educated abroad and who are doubtless better flitted and 
 better trained for the school-room. In Superintendent 
 Greenwood’s policy tliere is entirely absent what is 
 termed “inbreeding,’’ principals and teachers being se- 
 lected from all i)arts of the United States. With the 
 exception of fltuess, which, of course, embraces the 
 elements constituting a reflued and cultured character, 
 professional capacity and skill, no other modifying or 
 conditional circumstance is employed in the selection of 
 those under him. The best of educators, irrespective 
 of sex, nationality, residence, politics, or religion, are 
 selected to be his co-workers. 
 
 While he has always been on the alert to introduce 
 new policies and methods in the school system under 
 his charge, he has always been very cautious in testing 
 experiments and fads. His policy in this particular is 
 probably best summed up in his own words: “Sound 
 
 sense is the best qualiflcation in a superintendent. He 
 should know when to undertake a new scheme without 
 bankrupting the community; when to take a dog by the 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 317 
 
 ears to avoid getting bit, and when to let said dog loose 
 and hie to the ‘mountains of Heijsidam.’ ” 
 
 Although very original in his methods, he is a re- 
 specter of the opinions and methods of others. He has 
 visited the leading school systems of the United States, 
 and many of Europe, in order to observe their workings 
 and to discern the ditference in their methods and poli- 
 cies; at the same time to inform himself with progress of 
 schools other than his own. 
 
 He has ever been characterized by a commendable 
 broadness of mind in school work, and in caring for the 
 interests of children whose education is entrusted to 
 the teacher. Nothing exemplifies this more than the 
 position he assumed a few years after locating in Kan- 
 sas City in regard to keeping children after school. 
 This time-honored custom Dr. (treenwood opposed most 
 strenuously. “If a pupil is kept in after regular school 
 hours,” said he, “it should be only for discipline and to 
 learn lessons he had failed to prepare. • Study as a 
 means of punishment is radically wrong. Study must 
 come from glad and voluntary effort. Any other kind 
 of study is unnatural, a delusion and a fraud. Interest 
 in books cannot be awakened by detaining classes after 
 school hours.” 
 
 Dr. Greenwood’s annual reports of the Kansas City 
 public schools are most able, interesting, and suggestive 
 educational documents. Prof. T. F. Donnelly, of New 
 York, once wrote to Greenwood: “You are one of the 
 
318 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 few siijiei-intendeiits of the country wlio liave made an 
 indelible iniiiression u])on the educational thought of 
 the day, and you have every reason to be proud of the 
 work you Imve already done. I trust that you will be 
 spared many years to witness the full fruition of your 
 work.” W. T. Harris, Commissioner of Elducation, 
 ordered from Mr. Ci'eeiiwood a number of his reports, 
 writing: “I should be pleased to have a nundier of the 
 
 ju'esent rej)orts on hand to send or ])resent from time to 
 time to European scholars and others especially inter 
 ested in our educational development.” Professor J. 
 II. 1 loose, a personal friend of Dr. Greenwood, for some 
 time P]-esident of the State Normal School at Cortland, 
 New Yoi k, several years ago wrote to his much-admired 
 Kansas t’ity friend, referring to one of Greenwood's 
 widely-((uoted reports: “I am deeply iuqiressed with 
 
 your rejKU't, for its words of penetration and wisdom. 
 Your reports explain the ])e]'Sonality which underlies 
 the high character of the Kansas City })ublic schools — 
 i. e. the personality is Superintendent Greenwood.” 
 Kansas City, which in 1874, when Greenwood be- 
 came su])erintendent of its schools, contained a popu- 
 lation of about 28,00(1, now claims a population of over 
 200,000. The growth and elticiency of its public-school 
 system is keeping pace with other enterprises. Their 
 rating and support is mostly due to Superintendent 
 Greenwood’s prudent, skillful, and magnetic influence; 
 his ability to grasp relations and determine results. 
 
JAMES M. GEEEXMOOD. 
 
 319 
 
 Every ward school in Kansas City is connected with 
 the iSnperintendent as if it were with an electrical cui‘- 
 rent; everything is in absolute harmony; all are in 
 touch with the progressive head. Yet, after all, there is 
 a conscious freedom of action, of thought, and of en- 
 deavor that tends to invigorate and strengthen the 
 whole. 
 
 A prominent Kansas Cityan has said: “I know of 
 
 no greater assurance of Kansas City's future greatness 
 than the domination of Dr. Greenwood’s progressive 
 spirit in our local schools. He has a vast army under 
 him, molding the type of the future Kansas Cityans; 
 and I know that when these students have gone into 
 active life, there will be no lack of energetic, progres- 
 sive men and women in Kansas City.” 
 
 It might be said that there are two sides to Di'. 
 Greenwood’s professional character, the literary and 
 the educational. Eeferring to the former, the assertion 
 may be made that few educators rank as high as he in 
 literary work. Others may be as erudite in general 
 literature, but certainly a limited number have devel- 
 oped the art of expression possessed by him. 
 
 As an editorial writer in metropolitan papers, a con- 
 tributor to reviews and magazines, as a lecturer and as 
 an author of pedagogical and educational works. Dr. 
 Greenwood has achieved notable success. 
 
 He is widely known as a writer in educational pub 
 lications; his articles, because of their lucidity of 
 — 21 — 
 
320 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 thought, are iu demand by magazines and reviews. For 
 many years he contributed to many American mathe- 
 matical journals. He is a regular contributor to the 
 National Journal of Echication, Education, Popular Edu 
 cator, New York School J ournal, Educational Review, School 
 and Home, Intelligence, Missouri School Journal, and 
 numerous other publications. His articles are exten- 
 sively copied in other journals to which he is not a 
 contributor. * 
 
 He is a magnetic, an original, a logical, and on cer- 
 tain occasions an exceedingly eloquent lecturer. Since 
 1870 he has delivered more than a thousand addresses 
 iu the States, of Missouri, Iowa, Kansas, Illinois, Ohio, 
 Nebraska, Pennsylvania, New York, Mississippi, Massa- 
 chusetts, Minnesota, California, Arkansas, and Florida. 
 
 Greenwood’s opinions upon any phase of education 
 are valued by publishers and all interested in higher 
 education. For a number of years few standard text- 
 books have been issued that he has not assisted either 
 iu the preparation or revision of the publications. 
 
 In 1887 D. Appleton & Company published “Prin- 
 ciples of Education Practically Applied,” written by 
 James M. Greenwood. 
 
 “A Complete Manual on Teaching Arithmetic, Al- 
 gebra, and Geometry,” published by Maynard, Merrill & 
 Company, was issued in 1890. In its scope and methods 
 this treatise is unlike any other work ever published in 
 America. As the author says in the preface to the 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 321 
 
 work : “Two distinct lines of thought are developed in 
 
 the treatment of each branch — the historical phase on 
 the one hand, and the scientific method of presentation 
 on the other.” The book has had a wide sale and is a 
 recognized authority on the topics discussed in it. 
 
 In collaboration with Dr. Artemas Martin, editor of 
 the Mathematical Magazine, Greenwood has written “A 
 History of American Arithmetics and a Biographical 
 Sketch of the Authors,” and which has been issued as 
 a Government publication. The occasion of the book 
 being written is told by Dr. Greenwood; Several 
 years ago. in studying the history of arithmetic, he se- 
 cured a copy of “Arithmetical Books,” by Prof. August- 
 us De Morgan, published in London in 1847. In this 
 work Professor De Morgan mentions 1,580 names of 
 authors and editors of works on arithmetic, but actu- 
 ally examined and briefly described less than one-third 
 of these books. Strange as it may appear, De Morgan 
 knew nothing, comparatively, of our American arith- 
 metics. When “Arithmetical Books” appeared, more 
 than eighty different American authors had written 
 text-books on arithmetic. Finding this blank in the 
 mathematical literature of our country. Greenwood de- 
 cided to make a collection of American works, describe 
 them, and, whenever possible, to give a brief sketch of 
 each author. Public and private libraries from Boston 
 to San Francisco w^ere examined with a view of furnish- 
 ing as complete a list of authors as possible. Th.e most 
 
322 
 
 FITE F AMOVE MI8E0VRIAF8. 
 
 extensive works on American biography contain few 
 names, comparatively, of oiir school-book anlhors; 
 therefore, the work fills a held pecnliarly its own and is 
 a valuable acquisition to arithmetical libraries. 
 
 As a reviser of standard arithmetics. Dr. Greenwood 
 is in demand by publishers, and has revised numerous 
 other mathematical works. Gouldwin Brown was a 
 grammarian of such versatile and extensive knowledge 
 tliat he wrote the famous “Grammar of Grammars,” 
 nearly half a century ago; the works of Dr. Greenwood 
 testify that he is so gifted in mathematics that he could 
 write with success an “Arithmetic of Arithmetics.” 
 
 In historical writing he is proficient, having pro- 
 duced a number of historical sketches for encyclopedias 
 and other compilations. 
 
 lie spent some time in the study of law, but soon 
 abandoned the study, for his predilection for teaching 
 asserted itself. His reason for discontinuing the study 
 was, to use his own words: “Not being suited for the 
 
 profession, I found it to be a splendid opportunity for 
 starving to death, and for that reason quit.” Then con- 
 tinuing, he said: “I know but two occupations well — 
 
 farming and school-teaching.” When but a mere youth, 
 he read Blackstone through in five days. Dr. Green- 
 wood is exceptionally posted in affairs of law, especially 
 the law of contracts and evictence, for one who is not a 
 practitioner. 
 
JAMES M. GREENWOOD. 
 
 323 
 
 Few Americans have been honored with as many 
 high and responsible offices in educational organiza- 
 tions as has James M. Greenwood. He has been Pres- 
 ident of the Missouri State Teachers’ Association; 
 member of the National Council 'of the Educational As- 
 sociation; member of the Committee on Elementary 
 Education; President of the National Educational As- 
 sociation, and is now First Vice-President and a life 
 director of that body. 
 
 For a completion of this sketch the reader is per- 
 force referred to the future, for only a careful observa- 
 tion of Dr. James M. Greenwood in time subsequent to 
 the present can complete our contemplation of him. He 
 now stands as one of the most complete successes of 
 educational and intellectual development in the Middle 
 West. 
 

 X 
 
ciOSEPn ORVILLE SMELBY. 
 
 SOLDIER. 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 Events and changes come into life unbidden, and 
 whether they be clouds or sunshine, the inevitable is 
 accepted. 
 
 To carve out one’s own destiny is simply to control 
 or shape them, but to “bear ye one another’s burdens,” 
 “and so fulfill the law of Christ,” upon whose promise, 
 “And I, if I be lifted tip, will draw all men unto me,’’ 
 hangs the filmy thread of hope. 
 
 The unwary have said a picture can be painted with- 
 out a blemish; but the master’s brush when true to 
 nature, though dipped in the roseate hues of an Italian 
 sunset or the crystal imagery of a halcyon dream, dis- 
 closes some scars that mar its beauty; yet, when beheld 
 in tender memory, its smiles and softer lineaments 
 stand out in bold relief. It is mine to show the smiles; 
 it is God’s to take care of the scars. What wall of ada- 
 mantine resolution can steel itself impregnable to the 
 tempter’s dart? Or whence that immortal paraphrase 
 on which hinges the supplication of all eternity; “Lead 
 us not into temptation”? 
 
 With some life begins a little rivulet, coursing along 
 unnoticed through quiet meadows and shady wood- 
 lands; wild flowers and grasses its only beneficiaries, 
 until lost in the mythical space of Time. Another 
 shoots up strong and gushing from the mountain-top, 
 
328 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 gathering strength and volume as it goes; the gentle 
 spray and mist from its cataracts permeate and fructify 
 all vegetation within its scope. It thunders against 
 huge boulders and swallows them; it tears the roots of 
 overhanging trees, implanted by waves of the deluge; it 
 nnstratifies the layers of impending cliffs, formed from 
 epoch to epoch, and, unresisted, plunges into a great 
 whirlpool at the base, to mingle with powers that help 
 to move the world. No obstacle too great, no public 
 opinion too strong to swerve General Shelby from his 
 conception of duty. Those who knew him best will 
 endorse this similitude, and that he was a born warrior, 
 a feai'less leader, all will agree. His leadership mani- 
 fested itself in early childhood. 
 
 Once Miss was visiting her aunt in Lexing- 
 
 ton, Kentucky. A general in the Eegular Army on fur- 
 lough visited that city at the same time. Little Joe 
 Shelby, thinking his visits to the young lady too fre- 
 quent, slipped over one night and hung the following 
 placard on the front gate; ‘‘General ’s Head- 
 
 quarters, U. S. A.” She was very indignant then, at 
 what proved a blessing after many years. During the 
 Civil War this officer was ordered to Lexington, and, 
 locating his troops near this same house, proceeded to 
 occupy it in reality for “Headquarters.” The owner 
 treated the intruder with her usual courtesy, but asked 
 him if he did not remember this joke; at the same time 
 offering him a room in her commodious house for an 
 
INTRODTJOTIO'M. 
 
 329 
 
 office, which he positively refused, saying instead: “I 
 will send a guard to protect you so long as I stay here,” 
 ^^ich promise he faithfully kept. She often told this 
 story and said little Joe’s daring piece of fun — show- 
 ing the gushing fountain at ten years — saved her home 
 from destruction, for she was the mother of the great 
 Southern raider, John Morgan. 
 
 General Shelby was a man of indomitable will, sub- 
 serving to its power those within its jurisdiction, but 
 never descending from that high degree of courtesy and 
 kindlier attributes of his nature. A friend from his 
 own ranks, who stood by the bier weeping, said : ‘‘There 
 lies the Bayard of America.” Another, from the judicial 
 chamber — an opposing officer iu the great internecine 
 struggle — in his grand eulogy before the largest audi- 
 ence ever assembled in Kansas City on a similar occa- 
 sion, said : “I have never seen such courtesy in all my 
 
 experience.” “Among the many gallant acts in our of- 
 ficial intercourse, he always removed his hat when in 
 my presence” — not like a subaltern, but a prince ready 
 to be crowned. 
 
 All writers have agreed on his intuitive skill upon 
 the battle-field. To have heard the impassioned though 
 steady voice; to have seen the calm demeanor of a vet- 
 eran tactician, as the young soldier deployed his small 
 command for the first time against a regiment of Reg- 
 ulars, was soul-stirring; giving him the confidence and 
 
830 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I)laudits of soldiers aud civilians, and bringing him 
 recruits from every quarter. 
 
 In the subsequent history a brief detail of his first 
 engagement may interest the reader. 
 
 At last the shadows fell upon the evening of a very 
 checkered life, rebounding unsullied from the accidents 
 and struggles of its- storms; conquered only by the 
 sword of Death. The gratitude for his magnanimity 
 to fallen enemies upon the battle-field made them 
 friends under his solemn tent now. With grievous 
 hearts and bowed heads, the old Confederate boys — as 
 he once called them — from all over Missouri and other 
 S^tates, gathered around their chieftain in the re])Ose 
 of death, and Avith whispering sorrow offered all that 
 Avas left them, the undying faith in a Confederate sol- 
 dier’s love. 
 
 With one sad pleasure this young noble-hearted city 
 bared her head to the bitter wind, and, bowing unani- 
 mously with pride and solemnity to her adopted hero, 
 laid him to rest by the side of his intrepid soldiers, in 
 their oAvn blood bought l)attle-ground at Forest Hill. 
 
 fhJ^ lI J ■ 
 
CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE FAMILY OF OENERAL SHELBY.— BOY- 
 HOOD AND SCHOOL DAYS.— THREE 
 FAMOUS COUSINS.— REMOVAL 
 TO MISSOURI.— EARLY 
 HOSTILITIES. 
 
 The familj' from which General Joseph Orville 
 Shelby is sprung is one of the rare old families upon 
 which Kentucky justly prides herself. He comes of a 
 noble race, which has been productive of many who 
 have been accorded fame in the various walks of life; a 
 race chai'acterized by a wondrous intellectual power 
 and an indescribable courage, which never learned to 
 falter; a race with a chivalrous nature pouring down 
 from the heights of chevalier history. 
 
 The race that gave to the Trans-Mississippi Con- 
 federacy its leader Shelby was the same that plac; d 
 Thomas Hart Benton, Francis Preston Blair, and Ben- 
 jamin Gratz Brown in a world from whose reluctanct^ 
 these men snatched honors and undying fame. It was 
 a race in which was mingled the hardy spirit of the 
 pioneer with the refined tastes and aspirations of the 
 Virginian of the Colonial period. It was a race that 
 fostered the growth of the elements of heroism in its 
 numbers; a race that made history with its footprints 
 
332 
 
 FlYE FAM0V8 MISSOURI AFS. 
 
 left on Kentucky soil, Avith its racial voice lifted in 
 council-chambers and with the clash in battle of arms 
 held in its sous’ hands. Even the smiles and beauty of 
 its daughters have contributed to the making of Ken- 
 tucky history. Yet in the prime period of its fruitful- 
 ness, it was broken upon an intruding rock. The Civil 
 severed and divided it so sorely that nothing 
 to-day remains but scattered branches and the glory of 
 its brightest days. 
 
 Out of Virginia came, about the close of the eight- 
 eenth century, a distinguished officer of the American 
 Kevolution, Colonel Nathaniel Gist. He settled in 
 Montgomery County, Kentucky, and reared four fair 
 daughters. The Gists were among Kentucky’s first 
 pioneers. 
 
 One daughter of Colonel Gist married Judge Jesse 
 Bledsoe, one Mr. Benjamin Gratz, one Mr. Thomas Bos- 
 well, while the youngest became the wife of Francis 
 Preston Blair, senior. 
 
 Judge Bledsoe was an eloquent and distinguished 
 man, but unfortunately of infiini habits. His daughter 
 married Judge Mason Brown, of Frankfort, and, dying 
 early in life, left one child, a son, Benjamin Gratz 
 Brown, a namesake of Benjamin Gratz, the wealthy 
 hemp manufacturer of Lexington, under Avhose hospit- 
 able roof three famous cousins, Frank Blair, Gratz 
 Brown, and Joseph O. Shelby, spent much of their 
 youth. 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 333 
 
 One of the daughters of Thomas Boswell married 
 Orville Shelby, a son of Isaac Shelby, first governor of 
 Kentucky. 
 
 Isaac Shelby, a familiar figure in Kentucky history, 
 possessed many traits of character embodied in Joseph 
 Orville, the son of Orville Shelby and Anna Boswell. 
 He was an officer in the American Revolution, born 
 near Hagerstown, Maryland, December 11, 1750; re- 
 moved to the West in 1771. When the Revolution was 
 born of the patriotic ardor of the Colonists, Lieutenant 
 Shelby became captain of a military company in Vir 
 ginia. In 1779 he was elected to the House of Delegates 
 of Virginia, receiving about the same time a major's 
 commission. In 17S0 Isaac Shelby was made a colonel. 
 
 At the battle of King’s Mountain, on October 7, 
 1780, he showed conspicuous bravery and received a 
 vote of thanks and a sword from the Korth Carolina 
 Legislature, of which he became a member in 1781 and 
 1782. In 1781 he served in Marion’s campaign. 
 
 The State of Kentucky was organized in 1792 and 
 Colonel Isaac Shelby was chosen its first governor. 
 This ofQce he held for four years, during his first in- 
 cumbency; then, after an interim of sixteen years, was 
 elected governor in 1812, serving another term of four 
 years. In 1813, while governor of Kentucky, he joined 
 General William Henry Harrison with four thousand 
 Kentuckians in his command. At the battle of the 
 Thames the Shelby command won the admiration of 
 
334 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MISS0VK1AN8. 
 
 the entire nation, and Congress voted a gold medal to 
 Governor Shelby for his bravery and skill in leader- 
 ship. He died in Lincoln Comity, Kentucky, July IS, 
 182(). 
 
 Orville Shell)}-, the father of Joseph Orville, lived 
 but a few years after his marriage, dying in 1835, leav- 
 ing a widow with one son, who afterward became the 
 famous leader in the Trans-Mississippi Confederacy. 
 Mrs. Shelby was a talented woman and a favorite in the 
 family. Her sou was an active, interesting, and bright 
 boy. 
 
 The daughter of Colonel Gist who married Ben- 
 jamin Gratz died a shoii time after the death of Orville 
 Shelby. Mr. Gratz later married his first wife’s niece, 
 the widow of Orville Shelby and the mother of the 
 General. 
 
 Francis Preston Blair, senior, who married the 
 youngest of the Gist sisters and who was the uncle of 
 General Shelby’s mother, was an illustrious American 
 journalist, born at Abingdon, Washington County, Vir- 
 ginia, Ajjril 12, 1791. His father, James Blair, after- 
 ward attorney-general of Kentucky, removed to that 
 State about 1800.. The son was graduated from Tran- 
 sylvania University in Lexington and prepared for the 
 legal profession. 
 
 Early in the administration of Andrew Jackson, at 
 the height of the historic fight for the United States 
 Bank, Blair wrote an anonymous article in the Frank 
 
JOl^EPri 0. SHELBY. 
 
 335 
 
 foti (Keiitiirkv) Argus, coiicerniug t he {H)1itical issues of 
 the time. Jackson saw the article and sought out the 
 man wlio wrote it. jdacing him in charge of .the Ad- 
 ministration organ at Washington, in which cajtacitv 
 Itlair reached extensive fame as a journalist. Francis 
 Preston Blair, junior, is tlie son of the famous Jackson- 
 ian editor li_v his union with ]\Iiss Gist. 
 
 Much of the early life of young Blair was spent 
 under the roof of Benjamin Gratz in Lexington, where 
 Benjamin Gratz Brown attended school and Joe Shelby 
 spent the greater part of his minor years. The three 
 cousins, though apart in age, became closest friends 
 and comjianions. 
 
 In addition to the ties of kinship which make Blair, 
 Brown, and Joe Shelby related through Shelby’s mother, 
 Mrs. Gratz, there were other connections which made 
 the relationship closer. Francis Preston Blair, the 
 elder, and Mason Brown, father of Gratz Brown and 
 uncle of General Shelby’s mother, were kinsmen them- 
 selves, being descendants of John Preston, of Augusta 
 County, Virginia. 
 
 John Preston is the patrician source from which 
 came the families of the Prestons, Breckinridges, Mar- 
 shalls, Blairs, Browns, Hamptons, and certain other 
 families constituting the essence of Kentucky’s aristoc- 
 racy of brains, valor, and blood. The wife of Thomas 
 Hart Benton was a McDowell , a granddaughtt r of 
 John Preston. 
 
 ^ 22 — 
 
336 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Tlioiiias Hai-t Benton liimself was descended from 
 (he kinsmen of Governor Shelby and General Shelby's 
 father. The wife of the first governor of Kentucky was 
 of the family of Harts, whose relationship to Benton is 
 immortalized in the illustrious senator’s given name. 
 
 Thus, through a dozen channels, Benton, Brown, 
 Blair, and Shelby received the same rich blood from the 
 same high sources and were related in a way of more 
 than ordinary historic interest. 
 
 Benjamin Gratz, who married the widow of Orville 
 Shelby, was a man of exceptionally high character and 
 of considerable wealth. He and his first wife were 
 foster-parents of Mrs. (Mason Brown, who gave to her 
 only son the name of Benjamin Gratz, which was car- 
 ried by him into the most exciting periods of American 
 history. 
 
 Francis Preston Blair had his Kentucky home in 
 Frankfort, and Mason Brown resided there for years, 
 and their families were on the most intimate tenns. 
 
 Joseph Orville Shelby was born in Lexington, Ken- 
 tucky, December 12, 1830, his parents having family 
 origins as stated. He lost his father at the age of five, 
 and three years later, after the marriage of his widowed 
 mother to Mr. Gratz, in 1838, he went to live at the 
 home of his step-father, whose many kindnesses to him 
 were received gratefully and borne in mind through 
 life. While here he received his education at the Tran- 
 sylvania University,, which has a place of its own in 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 337 
 
 Kentucky biography and history, a position shared by 
 few educational institutions in the far-famed Bluegrass 
 Htate. 
 
 General Shelby in his yonth was thrown with a 
 group of young men whose names are household words 
 in their own State and many of them familiar in the 
 nation. The influence arising from the constant influx 
 of intellectual youth from the old family mansions of 
 iKentucky pouring in upon Transylvania University 
 assisted materially in the developing of Joseph Orville 
 Shelby, whose intrepid spirit had its source in youth, 
 whose valor, later sacrificed upon the altar of an un- 
 kind fate, was tutored here, and whose life was spent 
 in the most studious devotion to the chivalrous and 
 honorable principles taught by associations in Lexing- 
 ton from 1834 or ’35 to 1854 or ’55. 
 
 John C. Breckinridge, James S. Beck, afterwards 
 in the United States Senate, Samuel M. Breckinridge, 
 General James S. Jackson, General John H. Morgan, 
 and scores more of the flower of ante-bellum Kentucky 
 youth were the school-mates and associates of Joseph 
 Shelby. 
 
 By nature, in boyhood and in youth, Joseph Shelby 
 was bright and shrewd. He was a manly young fellow, 
 full of life and activity, and the pride of the cultured 
 household of the wealthy manufacturer wherein he 
 lived for so many years. He was brave and intrepid, 
 fearless and the perfect soul of honor, vivacious, yet 
 
338 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 always courteous. He was nine j’ears the junior of 
 Frank Blair and four years younger than Gratz Brown, 
 hut was thrown with them very much. 
 
 The elder Blair, at the time of Shelby’s early man- 
 hood, was passing from active control of the Adminis 
 i ration organ at Washington, and his son was spending 
 a great deal of his time in Lexiugton with his cousin in 
 the Gratz home. He had attended Transylvania Uni- 
 versity and lived at the Gratz mansion. He was, about 
 the time of Shelby’s approach to the age of fifteen, a 
 student at Princeton and one of the finest examples of 
 young manhood in Fayette County. Then it was, 
 though young Joe was behind Blair in his classes and 
 in years, that they formed a friendship which spanned 
 battle-fields, political differences, and the Civil War, 
 closing only in death. 
 
 The life of Frank Blair began in Lexington, Ken- 
 tucky, February 19, 1821. It was not long after he 
 reached an age in which he began to retain the impres 
 sions of environment that his father was made editor of 
 the \A"ashington organ of the great Andrew Jackson, 
 and the youthful Frank Blair was honored with the at- 
 tentions of one of the world’s most popular and famous 
 rulers. He received much of his schooling in Washing- 
 ton, profiting in the later days of his earl}" manhood by 
 his father’s intimate friendship with Thomas Hart Ben- 
 ton, whose relationship to the family has been men- 
 tioned. Young Blair was a splendid specimen of young 
 
JOHEPIJ (). EJIBIJiy. 
 
 339 
 
 mauliood when he became a S'tudent at Lexington and 
 the associate of Joe Shelby. He was tall, lithe, hand- 
 some, courageous, courteous, and true to every duty. 
 
 From Frank Blair, Joe Shelby received many favors 
 in the days through which he struggled for an educa- 
 tion. From Blair’s manliness the younger man re- 
 ceived an inspiration under which he grew to a fully 
 developed manhood of the highest order. Mrs. Gratz, 
 his mother, was a woman whose character drew to her 
 the conlidences and love of such young men as Blair 
 and Brown; hence their sojourns in Lexington were 
 frequent. Gratz Brown’s parents lived in Frankfort, 
 but a large portion of his time was spent in Lexington. 
 
 Gratz Brown was born in Lexington, May 28, 1820, 
 and was educated there. He was closely associated 
 with Shelby and was perhaps his most intimate friend, 
 with the possible exception of George G. Vest, with 
 whom young Shelby Avas thrown very much during 
 ^ est’s school days at Transylvania University. 
 
 At the age of fifteen, Joseph Shelby entered Ti-an- 
 sylvania Lmiversity, remaining there for three years, 
 then entering college at Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, 
 he was graduated there, at the age of nineteen. 
 
 Returning to Kentucky, he spent three years in Lex- 
 ington and acquired a knowledge of the manufacturing 
 of hemp which served him well in Missouri after his re- 
 moval from his native State. Under his uncle he de- 
 veloped a good business judgment, Avhich aided him in 
 
340 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 building up a fortune of no small proportions for its 
 lime, alihougb it was swept away by the war, and was 
 never recuperated. 
 
 Frank Blair had Tenioved to Missouri through the 
 influence of Senator Benton, his father’s close friend 
 and kinsman. He had located in St. Louis, and when 
 the Mexican War came on, served in Alexander W. 
 Doniphan's heroic regiment of Missourians. In 1862 
 he was elected to the Missouri Legislature. Gratz 
 Brown had also removed to St. Louis about the time of 
 his cousin's removal. In 1852, like Blair, he was sent 
 to the Missouri House of Rej>re^entatives, both serving 
 the city of St. Louis in the Missouri General Assembly. 
 
 Joseph Shelby was interested in Missouri, although 
 his ambitious were not professional. In 1852, the year 
 of his elder cousins’ election to the legislature, he re- 
 moved to Lafayette County, Missouri, and began the 
 manufacture of hemp at Berlin. 
 
 Here he met his future wife, Elizabeth N. Shelby, 
 daughter of William Shelby, of another branch of the 
 old Shelby family, and distantly related to the descend- 
 ants of Governor Shelby. 
 
 William Shelby himself was also a native of Ken- 
 tucky, who had removed to Missouri in 1838 and had 
 entered Government lands. William Shelby, along in 
 the fifties, was the owner of considerable land in west- 
 ern and central Missouri. He married Miss Elizabeth 
 Barnett, of Kentucky, in 1839. His settlement in La- 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 341 
 
 fayette County was one of the earliest made in the 
 county, and to the present time the Shelby family of 
 Lafaj'ette County has had prominence as one of the 
 oldest and most thrifty families in the State. 
 
 Joseph Shelby was married at ’Waverly, Missouri, in 
 1858. Elizabeth X. Shelby, his wife, made a faithful 
 companion, even during' the terrible days of war when 
 private property was confiscated, private pai>ers and 
 possessions destroyed and personal life and liberty con- 
 stantly endangered. She stood with him in dreary 
 camps in obscure places in the Arkansas and southern 
 Missouri mountains, suffered banishment from the place 
 of her nativity, Lafayette County, Missouri, because of 
 her husband’s prominence in the Confederate cause, and 
 at last followed him to Mexico with his forlorn hope 
 and straggling band of hero-soldiers of fortune, after 
 the struggles of the Civil War had broken the fortunes 
 of their loved Confederacy. 
 
 The proximity of Lafayette County to Kansas made 
 its ijeople intensely interested in the border struggles, 
 and the fact that the district was populated chiefly by 
 Kentuckians and slave-holders occasioned many sharp 
 controversies with the free-State champions across the 
 line in Kansas. For six or eight years before the out- 
 break of the war, these western Missouri farmers and 
 the early settlers of Kansas carried on a civil war of 
 their own. Shelby was soon plunged into the center of 
 these controversies, his full sympathies being with his 
 
342 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURI AH8. 
 
 neighbors, so when border troubles broke out, about the 
 time he had built ui> a lucrative business in Missouri, 
 he left it, went to Kentucky, and raised a military com- 
 pany for service in “bleeding Kansas,” in support of 
 the Southern side of the controversies current along the 
 border. With characteristic dash and daring his first 
 military exploits were carried out, with the result of 
 rendering considerable aid to the pro-slavery settlers. 
 The storm reached a lull, however, and his men retrrncd 
 to their Kentucky homes, their commander to his ropi* 
 factory in Lafayette County, Missouri. 
 
 The advance of the tide of rebellion and sectional 
 disagreement found the future major-general of the 
 Confederacy engaged in hard work in his rope factory 
 in Lafayette County, Missouri, near the little town of 
 Waverly. After various ebbs and fiows of his fortune, 
 he had become an extensive slave-holder and land 
 owner and was commonly accounted one of the wealthi- 
 est men in the community. 
 
 When the campaign of 1860 brought the issues to 
 division point, its passing bringing into plain view the 
 premonitory symptoms of an internecine struggle, Mis- 
 souri was stirred from center to circumference. It 
 had two ditferent elements within its borders, so con- 
 stant changes in matters political were had. iMass 
 meetings in a number of counties in the State had en- 
 dorsed secession, in the event of action of the South. 
 The Legislature met and struggled with the question 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 343 
 
 brouglit to a personal issue. There was a vacancy en- 
 suing in the United States Senate, which the Legis- 
 lature, divided in its ideas upon the questions of the 
 period, was striving to fill. James S. Green, the in- 
 cumbent, was believed to be an aialent Secessionist, so, 
 to satisfy the objections of the Union men within the 
 Missouri Legislature, Green was I'etired, and W/ildo P. 
 -Johnson elected in his stead. 
 
 Francis Preston Blair, the cousin of Shelby, was 
 preaching the doctrine of freedom in the streets and 
 halls of St. Louis, slowly, deliberately, but effectively 
 organizing the forces of the Union, gathering converts 
 every day. Blair's invincible wisdom gathered thou- 
 sands of Union men about the national flag in Mis.souri’s 
 largest city. IMass meetings, grown into lai'ge propor- 
 tions, expressed strong Union sentiments. The spiiit 
 of the Southern .sympathizer in Missouri was rapidly 
 being overawed by the strength of Blair's organiza- 
 tion. From St. Louis went out over the enlire State 
 encouragement to the Union men, so that at an early 
 period, though Southern men plainly outnumbered the 
 Unionists of the State, it was almost a settled fact tlia r 
 Missouri would remain to be a part of the National 
 ITiiion. 
 
 In a few weeks Charleston’s harbor resounded with 
 the roar of the cannon levelled at Fort Sumter, and, 
 with the subsequent fall of the latter stronghold, men 
 with impetuous spirits in all parts of the country rushed 
 
344 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 to arms. The clamor for revenge for an insulted flag 
 and for the rehabilitation of a disrupted Union was met 
 on the other hand by all the fury slowly-kindled hatred 
 could develop. The independence of the Southern 
 States was the fond dream of the people who made iip 
 the Confederacy. 
 
 Frank Blair telegrajdied to Shelby, his brave and 
 fearless cousin, asking him to come to St. Louis. 
 Shelby went and scornfully refused a commission in the 
 Federal Army, severing for a season the fond relations 
 formed in earlier years in Lexington. He returned to 
 Lafayette County, fired with the military ardor of three 
 generations, and gathered around him a company of 
 cavalry composed of western Missouri farmers. They 
 were soon mounted, armed, uniformed, and on the 
 march toward Independence, Jackson County, which 
 was just then threatened with a Federal assault. Here 
 ('ai)tain Shelby and his company cooperated with the 
 State troops. A general engagement failed to ensue, 
 so Shelby’s troops were camped at Lexington to await 
 the advance of General Price. 
 
 Meanwhile Jefferson Citj’, the State capital, was 
 evacuated by the State Government and occupied by 
 General Lyon, who had been making progress up the 
 IMissoui'i River with a well-organized army of Fedei-al 
 Iroops. Governor Jackson halted at Boonville, in 
 Cooper County, w'here a few days later the Confederate 
 forces suffered losses. 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 345 
 
 The troops gathered at Lexington were directed by 
 General Price to inarch southward to meet and succor, 
 if possible, the forces of General McCnllogh, who was 
 proceeding from the central portion of Arkansas north 
 to Missouri. This moyement of the Missouri troops 
 was the first step toward an active alliance with the 
 cause of the Confederacy. 
 
 Moving rapidl}' to the south, Price’s army was pur- 
 sued by Generals Sturgis and Sigel. An encounter 
 occurred near Carthage, when the Federal troops ap 
 proached. Captain Shelby’s troops were in the van 
 and received the first fire of the opposing army early in 
 the morning just after the troops discovered their close 
 proximity to each other. Shelby’s command of La- 
 fayette County farmers was thus the first to receive 
 Federal fire in Missouri in the summer of 1861. The 
 encounter resulted in about an equal loss, the Missouri 
 troops marched to Cowskiu Prairie, when they were 
 halted to prepare for a decisive struggle with theii- 
 pursuers. 
 
 While Price’s army was thus engaged at Cowskiu 
 Prairie, Captain Shelby returned to Lafayette County 
 to recruit a regiment. 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 SHEI.BY'S lIEROLSiM IN AN EART.Y ENGAGE- 
 IMENT.— IIIH FAMOUS MA ROHES.— HIS 
 HRIGADE’S OATEI.— BATTLE OF 
 CANE HILL.— 1801 -1802. 
 
 Iipou I'ol iiniiiij;' to Lafjiyettt* County, Captain 
 Shelliy lound that Iho Fedeial stitnij-th made it difiicult 
 to organize a regiment, hut with ids liundred men he 
 juooeeded to annoy the enemy as mucli as possible. 
 About this tiine he received word of the murder of a 
 personal friend in Lexington, on board a gunboat, 
 where a number of i)rivate citizens were detained and 
 treated as t)ilsoners of war. Fired by what he thought 
 an insult, but more so l)y tlie agony of the widow and 
 the sudden orphanage of her infant children, he hastily 
 equipped a lieutenant with a flag of truce, improvised 
 from a soiled handkerchief tied to a green pawpaw 
 jiole cut from his ambuscade, a note to tlie Federal of- 
 ficer comanding, and a guard of foui-, all that could be 
 s])ared from his company. The lieutenant departed on 
 his mission, concerning Avhich he, now a resident of 
 Lexington, Kentucky, recently said: ‘T reached Lex- 
 ington, Missom i, at dark, and was held while Captain 
 Shelb^^’s note was delivered, which ran like this at the 
 close: ‘If Mr. -was murdered, as I am informed, 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 347 
 
 in the name of hit bleeding eountiy, the widow and her 
 helpless orphans, I demand retributive justice; if I 
 have to storm the city and retaliate on your army.’ A 
 satisfactory answer was sent; but I also learned that 
 the lieutenant-colonel said he would run Shelby out of 
 the country.” The attempt to “run Shelby out of the 
 country” was made the next day. In the contest which 
 ensued some of the most interesting incidents in 
 Shelby’s early military career took place. An eye- 
 witness of the snbse(iuent events gives the following 
 account : 
 
 ‘‘The little camp not far from my gate slept peace- 
 fully that night; when at daybreak three boats dropped 
 noiselessly down from Lexington to the mouth of Tab 
 bo, a small tributary to the Missouri, famous for the 
 burning of its bridges by General Price, and the en- 
 trenchments built by Shelby, which for a long time, re- 
 strained the invaders and protected the farmers there- 
 about, enabling them to sustain their families. The 
 boom of cannon awakened the camp and alarmed the 
 sleeping inhabitants of the country. The young cap- 
 tain’s first order was to a courier (a beardless lieuten- 
 ant in the Mexican AVar, a private in this engagement, 
 and subsequently a major in Morgan’s raid). ‘Warn 
 the women and children,’ came Shelby's stentorian 
 command. Like a great funeral train at John Gilpin 
 speed, they came pouring along, screaming and crying 
 at what they did not understand, no warning having 
 
348 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 hoeii given, and the shells falling everywhere bnt in the 
 (•amp, some very near my feet, rolling off in the long 
 blnegrass. Shelby came dashing down the main road 
 at thahead of his slender column, firing and retreating 
 as they came, until a x>lace of momentary safety was 
 reached. The hill just left, ox^posite his camp, was in a 
 moment covered with bluecoats; the road to the river 
 lined nxj with glittering bayonets, which could have sur- 
 rounded and annihilated him and his undaunted boys. 
 The stars and stripes waved there; but here, on a chest- 
 nut sorrel, his favorite courser, sat the young captain, 
 a Murat in soldierly bearing, a Kentuckian in horse- 
 manship; and while his long black plume waved in the 
 breeze, it was like the second scene in Byron’s ‘Water- 
 loo.’ ‘The hurrying to and fro, the gathering tears and 
 tremblings of distress,’ had just passed by on a living 
 panorama. At this hazardous moment a cry was heard. 
 A belated mother with two helpless babes on either 
 arm and a faithful servant with her four rushed to 
 Captain Shelby for protection. Forgetting his own 
 X^eril, with one glance at the foe, he was down at her 
 side in a twinkling, and, stooping to disentangle her 
 (altered morning gown from his sx)ur, placed her in the 
 saddle, against her weeping protestations, and, bidding 
 her ride for her life, turned to the frightened negress 
 and provided for her and her little ones in a fleeing 
 wagon. The lips of that young mother — one of Vir- 
 ginia’s fairest daughters— and her trusted slave are 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 349 
 
 silent now, but they lived to bless the great cavalry 
 brigadier and tell of how he saved them. 
 
 ‘•In a few hours of skirmishing and waiting, the reg- 
 iment withdrew from that gallant field. The tables 
 Avere turned. The threat of the Federal officer to drive 
 Shelby from the country was rescinded. The gunboats 
 swung into mid-stream, and to the sound of martial 
 music sailed away, shelling the couutiwsides as they 
 steamed along.” 
 
 From this point a minute history of Shelby’s mili- 
 tary exploits would be a complete account of the Civil 
 'NVar in the West. Shelby participated in the main 
 features of the war in the Trans-Mississippi Division. 
 After recruiting his command, he dashed rapidly south- 
 ward to join the Confederate forces, then advancing on 
 Oak Hill. General McCullogh was moving on Spring- 
 field, then occupied by General Lyon, General Price 
 ad\mncing simultaneously by a different road, finally 
 bivouacking at Wilson’s Creek, twelve miles from the 
 headquarters of the enemy. 
 
 The ensuing of the battle of Wilson’s Creek after 
 the advance of Price and McCullogh, resulted in more 
 bloodshed than in anA" other battle of the Trans-Missis- 
 sippi Division. With severe losses, after the heroic 
 death of General Nathaniel Lyon, the Federal troops 
 AA-ere driA'en back; General Price, after considerable loss 
 in men and officers, moving to Springfield. General 
 McCullogh at this juncture refused to assist Price in 
 
350 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 ail (expedition against Northeni Missouri. From that 
 time the fortunes of the Missouri Confederate army 
 were on the wane. If MeCullogh had advanced north- 
 ward, with the foi'ce which strove so valiantly and fear- 
 lessly at ^Vilson’s Creek, the result of the war in Mis 
 souri might have been vastly different. 
 
 Captain Shelby was ordered about this time to jiro- 
 ceed to his home in Lafayette County and renew' efforts 
 to organize and equip a regiment. Upon his return to 
 the Fortli, Shelby with his men engaged in the siege 
 of Lexington, Missouri, one of the longest contested 
 struggles betw'een the two armies in Missouri, resulting 
 in the surrender of Colonel Mulligan, Federal, to a 
 larger host wliich overpowered and conquered him. 
 
 After the victory at Lexington, General Price fell 
 back with his army to Springfield. He w'as pursued by 
 General Fremont, who wms endeavoring to cut off com- 
 munications of Price and his army wdth MeCullogh. 
 The course of the Confederate Army from Lexington 
 south was therefore a test of physical strength; the 
 former seeking his base; the latter, wdth a stronger 
 force, seeking the rear of his enemy. Shelby wdth his 
 command led the advancing column of Price’s army, 
 leading the troops one of those dare-devil marches for 
 wdiich Shelby’s men became famous in later years, w'ith 
 an energj' and activity surpassed by few. A halt was 
 had at Pineville, below Springfield, when Fremont was 
 relieved by Hunter. Preparations w'ere made for 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 351 
 
 battle ill the two armies. A struggle resulted in the re- 
 juilsiiig of the entire Federal Army, so Hunter, with. 
 Fremont, retired, leaving Springtield to Price with the 
 control of all southwest Missouri. 
 
 Price established headquarters at Springfleld, while 
 Shelby again returned to Lafayette Comity and re- 
 sumed recruiting forces at Lexington. 
 
 The winter was a rigid one and its cold months had 
 but few periods when drilling for the arduous and 
 blood}" work of 1862 was possible. It was during these 
 few months that Shelby's men learned the full meaning 
 of war and all its hardships, particularly the hardships 
 and trials of the warfare in which they were engaged — 
 war. removed from the vital centers of military activity, 
 war along the border States between forces constantly 
 fluctuating in size and varying in spirits. 
 
 It was in this rigorous winter of 1861-2 that the 
 American people realized they faced a struggle without 
 early end; a civil war promising one of the greatest and 
 bloodiest series of campaigns known in military history. 
 It was passed in preparation for the work known to 
 lie ahead. In the West, particularly, was this true. 
 Shelby was but one of a great number of captains 
 engaged in recruiting and organizing. 
 
 He passed the greater part of the winter in Lexing- 
 ton, being menaced at fre(pient intervals by General 
 Pope's men; so, with one of those exhausting marches, 
 conceived by Shelby's daring spirit, his men rode south 
 
 —23— 
 
352 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 and joined Price, then leaving Springfield. The con- 
 junction was formed some distance north of the Boston 
 Mountains in Arkansas. 
 
 General Van Dorn, who had been placed in com- 
 mand of the Trans-Mississippi Division of the Confed- 
 erate Army, was in the neighborhood of Price, and upon 
 learning that the Federal troops were at Elkhorn, or 
 what later became known as the battle-field of Pea 
 Ridge, McCullogh and Price prepared for battle. 
 
 On the fourth of March, 1862, one year after the in- 
 auguration of President Lincoln, occurred the battle v)f 
 Pea Ridge, in which Shelby’s company was hotly 
 engaged. The day opened favorably for the Confed- 
 erates, but closed with disaster. General Price, on. real- 
 izing the effect of the blow administered on that field, 
 determined to cover the retreat of McCullogh with his 
 own army. Captain Shelby was given a conspicuous 
 position in Price’s column. To Shelby’s efforts was 
 largely due the success of Price’s attempt. 
 
 At this period Price was commissioned a major- 
 general; and upon the general advance to Corinth, 
 Shelby with his men followed to assist in meeting the 
 appeals for help which came from that quarter. Here 
 his men served under the balmy Mississippi skies, with- 
 out special incident; with only an occasional skirmish 
 with some of Halleck’s command. Shelby’s company 
 of Missourians were first placed to guard an approach 
 to the rebel lines on the Tuscumbia River; then was 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 353 
 
 ordered back to Corinth, which Beauregard was just 
 evacuating, driven away by pestilence and disease. 
 
 On the tenth of June, 1802, Joe Shelby’s term as a 
 captain in the State service expired, and he was com- 
 missioned to raise a cavalry regiment and ordered to 
 return to Lafayette County, Missouri, for that purpose. 
 On his journey homeward — a distance of one thousand 
 miles — dangers beset him and his band of soldiers on 
 every hand, the first being the crossing of the Missis- 
 sippi at a point protected by Federal gunboats and 
 Federal forts. Six soldiers, however, were sent in a 
 skiff over the river just above Helena. Arkansas, with 
 instructions to recounoiter, enter Helena, and seek as 
 sistance. A few hours later, under cover of the moon- 
 light, the entire company was transported over the river 
 on large flatboats, almost within range of the Federal 
 guns. 
 
 The Mississippi crossed, the Shelby company spent 
 several weeks in the interior of Arkansas. The battles 
 of St. Charles and Duvall’s Bluff over, Shelby offered 
 his services Jo General Rains, located a few miles below 
 ^^an Buren, who was then engaged in organizing an 
 expedition to Missouri. His proffered services were ac- 
 cepted, and as soon as the organization was completely 
 equipped, preparations to march north were made. 
 Before starting, Shelby and his men made an oath 
 without a parallel in the annals of the Rebellion. They 
 swore by all that was good and holy that they would 
 never lay down arms until the war was ended, and to 
 
354 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 fight for the Confederac}^ until the struggle was de- 
 clared off, no matter, it was stijmlated, if it lasted 
 twenty years. 
 
 Marching north, the expedition under command of 
 Colonel Cockrell participated in the battle of New- 
 tonia, advancing thi“ough the intervening counties to 
 Lone Jack, Jackson County, where, on the sixteenth 
 day of August, 1862, occurred the battle of Lone Jack. 
 
 Captain Bhelby came to Dover and Waverly, which 
 latter place was selected as his recruiting station. 
 Ten companies were organized, and in two days one 
 thousand of the flower of Lafayette County . manhood 
 was under Shelby's command. With his raw recruits, 
 Shelby proceeded with Cockrell to Arkansas, as usual 
 leading the way with a march extending, without a 
 pause for rest or sleep, from the Missouri River to Jas- 
 per Count;^'t An army associate of Shelby, one of those 
 who followed him through many a march, once said of 
 this march and many like it; “No man could ride with 
 Shelby for four years as I did and be worth his salt 
 afterwards.” For eight days this expedition marched 
 without sleep or rest, pressing forward to gain Arkansas 
 and form a junction with the Confederate Army in the 
 South. The men in Shelby’s command were fairly 
 crazy and blinded with loss of sleep and test of energy 
 when the first rest was made in Jasper County. 
 
 “Shelby was never tired,” said a soldier who fol- 
 lowed him on this march, as well as others. “I have 
 
.IOtUU‘11 (). .SJlELBr. 
 
 355 
 
 known him more than once to be in the saddle twenty- 
 tour hours straight, and at the close he would dismount 
 as lightly and apijarentlj^ as fresh as when he mounted. 
 Nor was he ever sick. I never heard of him taking 
 medicine. He had an iron nerve. In one battle he was 
 shot through the wrist with a Minie-ball, which came 
 out near the elbow. I was with him, and he did not 
 even draw in his breath.” 
 
 From Coon Creek, in Jasper County, the command 
 moved to Newtonia, in Xewton County, where the three 
 regiments that had marched from the Missouri River 
 were organized into a cavalry brigade under the com- 
 mand of Shelby, Avho was then commissioned a colonel. 
 
 The hist engagement of this famous brigade was 
 with Colonel Solliman's German troops at Xewtouia, 
 which resulted disastrously to the Federal troops, Solli- 
 man leaving the field after a loss of one thousand men. 
 General Schofield had not anticipated such a result, so 
 he proceeded to throw his entire army into line to as- 
 sault the town of Xewtonia, which had been wrenched 
 from Solliman by Shelby’s brigade. Superior numbers 
 overpowered the gallant cavalry, so a retreat into Ar- 
 kansas followed. , The next camp was at Cross Hollows, 
 in northwestern Arkansas. 
 
 During the autumn of 1802, the brigade stayed 
 around Huntsville, Arkansas, awaiting orders. General 
 Marmaduke assumed command of the cavalry in the 
 Trans-Mississippi Division, and sent orders to Shelby to 
 
256 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURI ATsS. 
 
 advance to Van Buren, where Marmaduke was expect- 
 ing an attack from the Federal Army. Shelby therc'- 
 fore left winter headcpiarters and joined Marmaduke. 
 
 Orders came to advance, and in less than twenty 
 minutes after marching orders came from Marmaduke, 
 Shelby’s brigade was in motion, but the enemy halted 
 five miles beyond Marmaduke and no engagement was 
 then had. The brigade then went into camp below Van 
 Buren. 
 
 On the evening of November 17th Colonel Shelby 
 took his command toward Cane Hill. The march was 
 rapid, but General Blunt with seven thousand Federal 
 troops pursued closely. The fourth day after reaching 
 Cane Hill, Shelby met an advancing regiment of Fed- 
 eral cavalry, which was marching northeast from Fort 
 Smith in the Fayetteville road. Stationing men along 
 the roadside, a fiery greeting was given the bluecoats 
 by Colonel Shelby. 
 
 Shelby made repeated efforts to engage the outlying 
 companies of Blunt’s army, which then lay around 
 Fayetteville, but did not succeed in securing an engage- 
 ment until Marmaduke gave orders to advance upon 
 Fayetteville. This advance was met by Blunt, who 
 moved eight thousand men to meet Marmaduke on De- 
 cember 3d. Shelby’s brigade and all of Marmaduke’s 
 men lay in fighting line all day on the fourth, but Blunt 
 did not come. The next morning the blue-uniformed 
 men of the Third Kansas were seen in the distance 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 357 
 
 among the trees in the valley, which lay below Shelby’s 
 position on the summit of a hill. Marmaduke, hearing 
 the sound of Shelby’s cannon, moved his lines at a 
 gallop to the front, while Blunt’s splendidly equij>ped 
 battle-array came on. The fight was opened with 
 Collins’ artillery, and for an hour the ordnance was in 
 action. Blunt threw a large force of infantry forward 
 to try to take Shelby’s position on the hillside, from 
 which death-dealing fire was poured steadily into the 
 Federal lines. Marmaduke saw the inadvisability of 
 contending against such heavy odds, and the bugles 
 sounded retreat, but not until after the heroes of 
 Shelby’s brigade had sent the lengthy line of Federal 
 infantry three times down the hill with heavy losses. 
 
 Upon the orders to retreat, Shelby brought into play 
 his manner of fighting on a retreat to remarkable ad- 
 vantage. He stationed his thirty companies at thirty 
 difterent places on each side of the road back down the 
 hillside. The company next the enemy fired at point- 
 blank range, formed rapidly in column and galloped 
 away, leaving still formed the other twenty-nine com- 
 panies, whose duties consisted in like maneuvers, sub- 
 jecting the enemy to a constant hurricane of fire in their 
 very faces, while the retreating companies had ample 
 time to reload and select good positions further on. 
 
 The fight along this mountain road was wonderfully 
 illustrative of Shelby’s military genius and intrepidity. 
 Blunt threw his cavalry in waves of blue upon Shelby’s 
 
358 
 
 FIVE F AMOVE MlEEOVRIAFfE. 
 
 retreating phalanx. Up the road stretched another hill- 
 side, rugged, bare, and pointed at the summit, around 
 which Shell)}' placed a regiment. Here, under a blaz- 
 ing sky, the onslaughts of Blunt’s eight thousand men, 
 directed against a brigade, were borne with heroism. 
 The blood of a brave young fallen Confederate spurted 
 in Shell)y’s face just as his horse fell. Lingering with 
 the company farthest to the rear and closest to the 
 enemy, Shelby lost his second horse, while his uniform 
 was torn with flying bullets and his person covered 
 with blood. The enemy was gaining ground and the 
 last company was moving forward when Shelby’s third 
 horse fell. The peril was great, but, dashing forward, 
 his command was reached just as he determined to 
 make a last stand. 
 
 The sun had been obscured all day, but had burst in 
 full glory just as the brigade’s fighting line was flung 
 around the hillside, and now a cloud passed over the 
 full-orbed light and the heroic brigade swung into a 
 mountain gorge, here to stand or die. A torrent of 
 freezing water was to the left, a rugged cliff to the 
 right. With some waist deep in the water, others high 
 in the cliff, the approach of Blunt was awaited. Fresh 
 Federal troops poured up again and again, but Shelby 
 held the gorge until night came on just as his fourth 
 horse fell from under him. Darkness brought a Fed- 
 eral ofticer with a flag of truce. 
 
.K)f<F.PI{ O. PJIELBT. 
 
 359 
 
 Advancing under the truce, General Blunt spoke to 
 ^Mariuadnke and asked him 'svliose troops had fought 
 him that day. “Shelby's brigade,” came the reply. 
 “How did these men behave themselves'?" “Behave'?” 
 thundered Blunt; “they behaved not like men, but lik(“ 
 devils. Two hundred and fifty of my best men are 
 dead, hundreds more wounded.'’ 
 
 This instance is but one among scores that have 
 never found their places in established history, yet 
 few are the evidences of gi‘eater heroism found in mili- 
 tary annals. 
 
 In the winter months during which Marmaduke and 
 Shelby stayed in northwestern Arkansas the engage- 
 ments with Blunt were of almost daily occurrence. 
 Later, in one of these encounters in the neighborhood 
 of Cane Hill, an incident occurred which has been 
 fixapiently recalled. 
 
 It was during the battle of Prairie Grove; Colonel 
 Shelby gave orders to Major Shanks to advance, “to at- 
 tack anything and everything in sight, charge the 
 moment a blnecoat is seen,” promising to support him 
 with the entire brigade. Away dashed Shanks, meeting 
 an old Xewtouia antagonist. Major Hubbard, and the 
 Third Missouri Infantry, al)0ut a mile forward. The 
 fearless cavalrymen cai-ried everything before them, 
 routing the Federal train completely. Shelby followed, 
 to find Shanks closely pursuing the enemy, which had 
 scattered through the woods in all directions. Shanks’ 
 
360 
 
 FIVE Fy\MOTJSl ML^FOUFTANE. 
 
 men were also chasing “bluecoats” in the forest, while 
 Hhelby, supiiosing the advance guard to be directly in 
 front, rushed forward with only a few of his staff and 
 two guns. Hubbard quickly gathered a hundred men 
 and rushed upon the apparently undefended squad of 
 rebel officers. “Surrender!” Hubbard shouted to Shel- 
 by; “you are surrounded and overpowered.” Shelby 
 fell back out, with characteristic coolness, remem- 
 bering Shanks’ proximity, and while his men were 
 engaged with Hubbard’s in hand-to-hand encounters 
 with SAVords and sabers, he waited. Hubbard threw a 
 pistol to Shelby’s forehead. “Surrender! do you hear? 
 Surrender, or I fire.” Shanks’ men came crashing 
 fhrough the Avoods in the distance. “You are mis- 
 taken,” coolly answered Shelby; “it is you who are my 
 prisoner. Call off your men and listen behind you.” 
 Hubbard paled as rebel cavalrymen poured in around 
 him. “I am caught,” he said, “nicely caught, and here 
 is my sword. I only ask quarter for my men.” “Take 
 back dhat sword. Major,” responded Shelby; “it was 
 neAmr staimM Avith the blood of the helpless around 
 NeAvtonia. I ahvays respect an honorable foe.” 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 HEROISM AT HELENA.— ASSAULT ON STEELE. 
 
 —THE LUCKLESS RAID OF ’64.— DEFEAT 
 AT WESTPORT.— NEWTONIA.— 
 SURRENDER. 
 
 The battle of Prairie Grove continued throughout an 
 entire day, its fury waning only after the sun had set. 
 On the battle-field that frosty night, which followed a 
 day of stirring scenes, Shelby’s men bivouacked amid 
 the dead and dying and were the last to leave the scene 
 of bloodshed. 
 
 December 31, 1862, camp at Lewisburg, Arkansas, 
 was broken and a dash into Missouri began. The outer 
 line of defenses about Springfield was captured when 
 Marmaduke ordered a return. A dreadful march 
 through snow to Batesville, Arkansas, followed a bat- 
 tle at Hartville. Batesville reached, a halt was made 
 until spring, when the “Cape Girardeau expedition” 
 was organized. 
 
 The advance upon southeastern Missouri was at 
 tended with difficulties, and after a long series of skir- 
 mishes about Cape Girardeau, the expedition was aban- 
 doned for the famous assault upon Helena. This last 
 assault was one of the hopes that the Trans-Mississip- 
 pi Confederacy last cherished, for it involved a plan to 
 
362 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIAIfS. 
 
 retain Vicksburg and circumvent one of the most dis- 
 astrous events of the Civil War to the Confederacy, the 
 loss of the Mississippi city. It was planned to capture 
 Helena and thus interrupt the transportation of sup- 
 plies to Grant. The command of the upper Mississippi 
 was an object. 
 
 General Holmes, a graduate of West Point and a 
 favorite of Jefferson Davis, was in command of about 
 8,000 men, consisting of Fagan’s Arkansas brigade, 
 Price’s Missourians, and Marmaduke’s cavalry, compris- 
 ing the Shelby brigade. Holmes, seeing the hopeless- 
 ness of success in the engagements about Cape Girard- 
 eau, one day in the latter part of June, 1863, telegraphed 
 to his superior officers that he believed he could take 
 Helena. Immediately authority came and the advance 
 upon the river town was begun. 
 
 The Confederates outnumbered the Helena garrison 
 nearly two fold, and confidence in victory prevailed all 
 through the Confederate lines. Helena lies on the river 
 lowlands. The water front was guarded by the gunboat 
 Tyler, famous at Forts -Henry and Donelson. On the 
 laud side there was an unbroken line of fortifications, 
 extending from the river bank above the town to tlu' 
 bank below. The city’s western front was about a mile 
 in length. Though these defenses were good, the 
 chances were with the Confederates because of inex- 
 perienced gnu tiers being in charge of the Federal 
 defenses. 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 368 
 
 On July 4, 1863, while Grant’s soldiers were cheering 
 victorious “Old Glory” in the streets of Vicksburg, the 
 three columns of cavalry. Price’s, Marmadnke’s, and 
 Fagan’s, all unconscious of the events on the lower 
 river, moved against the fortifications at Helena. 
 
 Attempts were made to bring field artillery, but 
 about a mile from the Federal lines deep ravines cut 
 across the road formed almost impassable obstructions. 
 The men were comjjelled to dismount. A gorge inter- 
 vened between the advancing columns- and the lines, a 
 steep hillside loomed up at the sides, and the thickets 
 and trenches were alive with Federal sharpshooters. 
 
 ■ A continuous fire ensued; charge after charge was 
 made and several outlying pits were carried. The guns 
 on the hills soon oj>ened and rebel soldiers began to 
 drop. Price’s line marched to assault Graveyard Hill, 
 while Fagan charged Hindman’s Hill, which was cap- 
 tured and held for a time. Shelby, with his famous 
 battery of Hying artillery, manned by Dick Collins and 
 famed along the border for the spirit with which it 
 entered a struggle, moved to capture Battery A. He 
 found the road barricaded, so Collins cut loose the teams 
 and the gunners hauled the pieces by hand around the 
 obstructions. Shelby advanced too far without sup- 
 port and the guns from a field battery opened upon him. 
 A counter-charge ensued and Shelby was wounded. 
 The horses around the artillei’y were all shot down and 
 the line was forced to retreat. Shelby, though sustain- 
 
364 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIAFS. 
 
 iiig great loss of blood from an artery severed at the 
 wrist, leaped from the saddle and called for volunteers 
 to save Collins’ guns. “The battery is in danger!” came 
 the cry and hundreds of troopers turned back. Shelby 
 shouted, “Fifty, only fifty I” “Bring the battery back or 
 remain yourselves !” Collins and his men fought brave- 
 ly, but in vain for some time; at last the dead horses 
 were cut away, ropes attached, and the guns dragged 
 safely away. Twenty of the fifty brave volunteers werc‘ 
 left dead where they fell, while only fifteen of the re- 
 maining number escaped unscathed. 
 
 Repulsed and defeated, Shelby moved back to Jack- 
 sonport, while he himself went into the care of a sur- 
 geon at Batesville. 
 
 General Holmes, the unfortunate leader in the dis- 
 aster of Helena, moved gloomily away from the scene 
 of his army’s defeat. He had displayed great courage 
 on the field, but had reckoned on results that never 
 came. Shelby was not altogether in sympathy with 
 his associate and superior officer, but entertained high 
 opinions of Holmes in his conducting of certain details 
 of the army’s affairs. 
 
 Once Holmes sent for Shelby and said: “Colonel, 
 
 your men have been stealing and it must be stopped. 
 They are thieves.” 
 
 “Sir,” vociferated Shelby, resenting vigorously the 
 general’s offensive language, “whoever told you so lies.” 
 
 “I believe it is true.” 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 365 
 
 “Why?’’ asked Shelby. 
 
 “Because everybody says so.” 
 
 “Do you believe a thing when everybody says so?” 
 
 “I do.” 
 
 “Do you know what everybody says about you?” 
 
 “I do not; what do they say?” 
 
 “They say you are a damned old fool.” And Shelby 
 walked away. 
 
 The battle of Helena had been passed some time 
 when Shelby’s brigade was ordered to proceed to Mis- 
 souri on the famous raid of 1863, the most renowned of 
 its many movements. His arm in a sling, Joe Shelby, 
 at the head of his determined men, dashed fearlessly 
 into the heart of Missouri, fighting and cutting their 
 way to Boonville, Jefferson City being the objective 
 point. Neosho, Stockton, Humansville were all cap- 
 tured, prisoners taken, and munitions of war secured. 
 General Brown, however, had covered Jefferson City 
 with 8,000 men and it was sheer madness to attempt to 
 capture it, so Shelby marched to Marshall and then 
 back into Arkansas. 
 
 During the spring of 1864, after spending the winter 
 in quarters at Camden, Ark., numerous battles in the 
 southern part of the State were participated in by 
 Shelby and his men. 
 
 On the 3d of March, 1864, Shelby was ordered north 
 of Washita River to garrison Princeton, hold this line of 
 the Saline River, cover all roads leading into Camden, 
 and annoy the enemy in every way conceivable. 
 
366 
 
 FIVE FAMOVS MISSOURI AF! 8. 
 
 Two large armies were then gatliering and march- 
 ing simnltaneouslj on Shreveport, Banks’ and Steele’s: 
 the tirst the larger, the lattei' the better equipped, one 
 moving by the Red River, the other by land upon 
 Camden. The Trans-Mississippi Department of the 
 Confederacy was never in greater danger. Both of 
 these armies had to be driven back or disaster would 
 follow. The infantry was sent to harass Banks, the 
 cavalry advancing to interfere with Steele, until the 
 great battle lines along the Red River should be drawn. 
 Here ensued an incident in which Shelby illustrated his 
 daring in a conspicuous way. 
 
 Steele had fifteen thousand men and Shelby a thou 
 sand, yet the latter prepared to give battle to the for- 
 mer ! The vast command under Steele crossed the river 
 at Arkadelphia, Shelby, eight miles below, sending a 
 scouting party to the front and capturing two cavalry 
 companies in Steele’s rear guard, officers, horses, men, 
 and all. 
 
 At this point, in the midst of his preparations to en- 
 gage a host fifteen times larger than his own, he re- 
 ceived notice that the Confederate Congress had con- 
 firmed his appointment as brigadier general. His 
 preparatiohs for battle were not deterred in the least, 
 and about sunset one night orders were issm d for tlie 
 brigade to move at moonrise — midnight exac'ly. Shel 
 by’s ordeis were giv'en thus: 
 
J08EPR 0. SHELBY. 
 
 367 
 
 “Soldiers of Shelby’s Brigade: You march in four 
 
 hours to attack the enemy. He is strong, well equipped, 
 and not dehcient in courage, but I intend that you shall 
 ride down his infantry and scatter his battalions by the 
 splendor of your charge. You have just four hours in 
 which to say your prayers, make your needful prepara- 
 tions, and nerve your hearts for the onset. It will be 
 desperate, because you are brave; bloody, because you 
 are reckless and tenacious; because I am to-day a briga- 
 dier general. I have told you often about our homes, 
 our country, and our glorious cause. To-day I simi)ly 
 appeal to your ambition, your fame, your spotless repn- 
 tation, and your eternal renown.” 
 
 This stirring aj)peal did not fail to arouse the great- 
 est courage possible in the brigade. Early in the morn- 
 ing the battle began. A veteran of Steele’s command 
 once said: “Shelby made them attack the rear of 
 
 Steele’s army of 15,000 men — only a thousand of them, 
 yet they charged like they had been the vanguard of au 
 army of thirty thousand. We drove them back, it is 
 true, but they charged again; we drove them back and 
 they charged again; we drove them l)ack and they 
 charged again; and thus they charged unlil night put an 
 end to the remarkalde contest.” 
 
 In the summer of 1804, the Department of the West 
 in the Confederate Army determined to make a second 
 
 assault upon Missouri, seeking thereby to divert at- 
 —24— 
 
368 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 teution from the activity in the East and force Grant to 
 pay more attention to the West by harassing the Feder 
 at outposts and strongholds in Missouri. It was also 
 thought that recruits numbering thousands would be 
 gathered around the wavering banner of the Southern 
 Confederacy in Missouri, which would create an upris- 
 ing in the State, capture St. Louis, then move east 
 through Illinois, Ohio, Kentucky, and then to the relief 
 of Richmond. Various agencies were emjdoyed to ac- 
 complish these ends, no little dependence being placed 
 by Price and Marmaduke in the secret society known as 
 the Knights of the Golden Circle. 
 
 For these people “Fighting Jo” Shelby, with his 
 Iron Brigade, had no use. They had nothing in com- 
 mon with the men who would refuse to die for a con 
 viction, or to imperil life, home, family, and fortunes for 
 an ideal. The stay-at-home Southerner, the Copper- 
 head, and the Yankee who refused to fight for his Un- 
 ion, in which he vociferously professed belief, were syn- 
 onymous in Shelby’s mind with cowardice. 
 
 Once, on the first raid into Missouri, a boyhood 
 friend of Shelby in Kentucky, now a captaip in the Fed- 
 eral Army, was met at the head of his com]»any and 
 given an opportunity to defend himself, but, being su- 
 premely discreet, he refused to show fight and galloped 
 away. Shelby watched the dust rising in the distanc(^ 
 and with a countenance full of disgust and in a voice in 
 which rage mingled with surprise he cried: “My God! 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 369 
 
 is that yonder a Kentuckian, a Southerner, refusing to 
 light for Avhat he says is right?” 
 
 No man cherished beliefs more than Shelby; no man 
 loved a principle more devotedly, and no man would 
 sacritice his life quicker than Shelby if conviction or 
 duty called. 
 
 General Shelby was the youngest general in the 
 Trans-Mississippi Department of the Confederate Army, 
 and was not given charge of the expedition of 18b4. be- 
 cause it was thought that it would be improper to put 
 so young an officer over other ranking officers. Sterling 
 Price was therefore placed in charge. With the expe- 
 dition were James F. Fagan with live luigades and a 
 battery of artillery and Gen. Shelby with three brigades 
 and a battery and Marmaduke’s cavalry. On the march 
 from the South through the State of Missouri, Marma- 
 duke held the right, nearest the Mississippi River; 
 Shelby held the left, with Fagan in the center, guarding 
 an enormous train of 500 wagons, and thousands of 
 cattle. . 
 
 This caravan moved at the rate of fifteen milts a 
 day, although Price’s officers insisted that this was too 
 slow to insure safety and success. 
 
 The advance was made through southeastern Mis- 
 souri, until Price reached a point of indecision. He 
 was uncertain whether he should go on and attempt to 
 occupy St. Louis, then cross the river into Illinois and 
 the States of the Ohio valley, as dashing Magruder and 
 
370 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURI AES. 
 
 fearless Shelby proposed be done, or to march into Kan- 
 sas. The slowness of his army’s movements and other 
 considerations induced him to choose the latter plan. A 
 march across Missouri ensued, with engagements at 
 various points along the march. A force of Kansas 
 troops led by James H.- Lane was met at Lexington 
 and repulsed. 
 
 A force of Federal soldiers was forming in front of 
 Price’s expedition, while General William S. Rosecrans 
 was pursuing from St. Louis, supported by General 
 Alfred ITeasonton, in command of a large force of cav- 
 alry. A Fedei-al force* under General Ford was met at 
 the Little Blue, and, after a hard fight, was driven 
 through Independence, while Price with his men moved 
 on to Westport. 
 
 The 23d of October, 18G4, the day of the battle of 
 A'estjmrt, dawned clear, cold, and full of promise to the 
 Confederate host. Shelby’s division moved against the 
 enemy about 8 o’clock, in the direction of Westijort, ami 
 very soon became fiercely engaged all around. Shelby's 
 men were the first on the field and the last to leave it. 
 They fell against the Federal positions gained the day 
 before and drove the enemy back in sight of the tow)i 
 of Westport. At 12 o’clock came the report to Shelby 
 that Marmaduke had fallen back before the Federal 
 fire, thus exposing Shelby’s whole flank and rear. Gen. 
 Fagan sent word that he was nearly overpowered by the 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 371 
 
 Federals, wlio filled the prairie to his front. Jackman’s 
 brigade went to his relief. 
 
 Heroic elforts made by Jackman upon the open 
 prairie were practically fruitless. He was compelled 
 to fall back before the Federal fire. Shelby was thus 
 placed in a perilous condition, so he withdrew a part of 
 his men from the town of Westport and attempted to 
 fall back and reach the retreating army of Price. The 
 prairie in his rear was at once covered with a long line 
 of troops, which Shelby at first supposed to be his own 
 men. Upon the dis]ielliug of this illusion, the prospect 
 seemed dark and desperate. 
 
 XeiUnu- tree nor bush was lo be seen for miles and 
 no hel])ing army was to be seen anywhere. Shelby as 
 sumed Ihe only salvation was to charge the nearest 
 line, break it if possible, and then retreat rapidly, fight- 
 ing the other. The order was given. A short while 
 l>assed and breaks in Shelby’s line caused confusion, his 
 men starting to run for life. The Federals ]mshed for- 
 ward in pursuit, while Shelby’s men would turn and 
 fight hand to hand and then gallop atvay. A string of 
 stone fences was observed in the distance two miles off 
 and the retreating men dashed for it. They reached it 
 and were rallied here for a stand until death, fighting- 
 like lions at bay. The fences became lines of fire and 
 the bullets sputtered and rained thicker on the charg- 
 ing enemy. They halted, faced about, and withdrew out 
 
372 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 of range, while Shelby, with his saved command, moved 
 rapidly after the main army, traveling all night. 
 
 Price’s last expedition was thus a failure, but not 
 because of Shelby’s fault. General Price had wit- 
 nessed the intrepid spirit of Shell)3'’s command, and in 
 the last throes of military distress he called to Shelby 
 to take command of the rear guard of his retreating 
 army, “for you alone can save it.” 
 
 The salvation was accomplished by Shelby. He 
 fought the way back to Newtonia, Mo., where was 
 waged the last battle of the Civil War occurring west 
 of the Mississippi. Here the Price army halted to rest 
 and forage. Dangers abounded everywhere and Price 
 grew averse to remaining there. Shelby urged a rest, 
 promising with characteristic bravery to see to it that 
 the enemy would be successfully withstood. Though 
 the commanders were opposed to remaining, a halt was 
 made until the enemy was announced approaching. 
 They then opposed battle, but Shelby insisted and 
 dashed into an engagement, covering himself all over 
 with glory. Other officers pleaded in extenuation that 
 the army was demoralized. Shelby said “No,” and pro- 
 ceeded to n)arch on foot to meet Blunt. Said he to his 
 men: “I will carry you so far from your horses that in 
 
 your efforts to reach them, if you are defeated, you will 
 be killed or captured. We are able to whip Blunt, the 
 safety of the entire army depends upon it, and by the 
 grace of God it shall be done!” 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 373 
 
 And done it was ! Shelby’s men. fought like demons ; 
 their loss was heavy and their ammunition almost ex- 
 hausted before the battle was over, but charge after 
 charge drove Blunt back, defeated. Shelby’s last bat- 
 tle was a victory which enabled a starving army to 
 proceed in comparative safety to Texas. 
 
 The suffering of the army was great, and. as one 
 soldier has since put it, “hard riding and hard lighting 
 made a hard appetite, and they were no respecters <)f 
 other people’s pigs and poultry.” One day Shelby Avas 
 standing on the White EAer, watering his horse. .\ 
 gallant private was similarly engaged in a group of 
 soldiers just bel'oAv Shelby, Avhile slung across his sad- 
 dle Avas a sack carefully tied and bleeding at one end. 
 “What you got there?” Shelby demanded of him. 
 “Been havin’ my clothes washed,” ansAvered the 
 private with a grin. 
 
 “You'd better get back to camp.” said Shelby, “or 
 your clothes will bleed to death.” 
 
 The private was put into the guard-house, but. when 
 that night, a quarter of fresh pork was found in the 
 General’s tent, Shelby, with a sense of humor, and after- 
 eyeing the pork hungrily, said : “I have no idea where 
 
 this came from, but go ’round to the guard-house, 
 orderly, and tell 'em to turn Gentry loose. There 's no 
 use in shutting a man up for life for a little laundry.” 
 General Price took up his headquarters at Clarks- 
 ville. Texas, where he was stationed at the close of the 
 war. It was here that the news of the surrender of Lee 
 
374 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOU RIAFS. 
 
 was lieard and that tidings of tlie assassination of 
 Lincoln reached Shelby. 
 
 An incident connected with the receipt of this latter 
 news clearly illustrates Shelby’s respect for an honor- 
 able foe. The men were on review' w'hen the courier 
 ap])roachcd, bearing the new'S of Booth’s fatal shol. 
 The knowdedge flashed dow'ii the line and some of the 
 men thoughtlessly cheered. Their commander straight- 
 ened himself in his saddle, bared his head, and rais(‘d 
 one hand depiecatingiy, saying reverently: “Boys,” — 
 (he line sto]>pcd to listen, — “(Ids is the lieaAdest blow 
 y(‘t dealt ns. Ijincoln’s slaughter w'as (he act of a mad 
 man. If he had lived, he wonld hate been jnst and 
 genei'ons to the South.” 
 
 The army stood silent for an instant, struck wdth the 
 sight of the grim, deternnned t’onfedei'ate commander, 
 siauding with bared head, speaking kind w'oids of 
 Abraham Lincoln, the ]>ersonificatiou of (he princi]d ■ 
 (hey had o])]H)sed in scores of bloody battle-fields. 
 
 General Kiiby Smith, in command of the Trans- 
 Id ississi]i])i 1 )e])artment, was anxious to surrender, near 
 the clos(' of th(" war, eai ly in the s])ring of I 8 O. 0 , bur 
 Shelby was e<iually anxious for continued resistance. 
 lb‘ thougld that the French would I'ecognize the Con- 
 federacy in a fiwv months and relief would be had from 
 that (piarter, but Smith and his successoi-. Buckner, 
 ignored the ])rotest and the surrender was later made 
 .by Buckner al Shreve]K)r( and the army declared 
 disbanded. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EXPEDITION TO MEXICO.— ROMANTIC ENDING 
 OF SHELBY’S MILITARY CAREER.— 
 PERSONAL CHARACTER- 
 ISTICS. 
 
 Conditions in Mexico now began to attract tlie at- 
 tention of the men wlio had fallen with the Southern 
 Confederacy, and Shelby and his brigade were not ex- 
 ceptions to the rule. His army stood by him like 
 brothers, though it forced them to stand in the shoes of 
 exiles and political ontcasts. When Buckner's sur- 
 render brought about the disbanding of the Trans-Mis- 
 sissippi Department, Shelby’s men were well equii)ped, 
 armed, mounted, and vigorous, many of them refusing 
 to believe that they could not even yet conquer the 
 hated Northern troops and witness the triumph of their 
 cherished cause. 
 
 The gallant leader of the Shelby brigade now took 
 occasion to inq)ress upon the men the utter uselessness 
 of further contending against the Fnion, because, he 
 urged, the generals of the South had laid down their 
 arms and Shelby’s men were now without recognition 
 as soldiers in an organized army. Shelby then advised 
 his men to follow him in an expedition to Mexico, Avhere 
 they would cast their fortunes Avith Maximilian or 
 
376 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 Juarez, tlien striving for mastery across the border, 
 and rise as soldiers of fortune and brave men should in 
 war. About a thousand of his command fell in with 
 their general’s plans and concluded to follow him into 
 IMexico. The remainder of the courageous baud parted 
 with their companions of four years of bloody strife, 
 hai'dsliijis, and adversity to return to their homes, in 
 instances devastated by the cruel fortunes of war. 
 
 .\n election was held at Corsicana, Texas, and Shel- 
 by received the vote of every man in the army for com 
 mander. The column marched down through Texas, 
 crossing into Mexico at Eagle Pass, halting at Piedras 
 Negras, on the Mexican side. Here Governor Biesca, a 
 Juarez leader, came forward and ottered General Shel- 
 by full and unlimited command of the Liberal armies 
 of the States of Nuevo Leon and Ooahuila. Before giv- 
 ing the Juarez leader a deliuite answer. General Shelby 
 consulted the wishes of the officers of his army, but 
 found that the majority were Imperialists or sympa- 
 thizers with Maximilian and were opposed to fighting 
 for Juarez or the Republic. Though personally in 
 sympathy with the Republic, Shelby abided by the 
 wishes of his men, and declined the otter. The men 
 who thus lost an opportunity to win honor in what 
 proved a winning cause lived to see the day when they 
 wished that Shelby had acted less in deference to their 
 wishes and more in kee])iug with his own desires. 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 377 
 
 Before preparations were made to march southward 
 through Mexico the little band of exiles gathered along 
 the banks of the Rio Grande on the morning of July i, 
 1865, and in a picturesque spot bowed their heads and 
 with tearful eyes and trembling hands laid away in 
 the flowing water the flag they had borne for over foui- 
 years all through the West and Southwest. 
 
 Perhaps no scene in American history or any con- 
 nected with the annals of the race which populates 
 America is so pathetic and tinged with romance so 
 much as this, when a band of heroes, the like of whom 
 have seldom ever been known, laid away a priceless 
 trophy of their heroism and buried in a river’s shifting 
 sands the battle-scarred banner of a brigade which 
 should ever remain famous in the annals of the border- 
 land, upon whose vicissitudes the destiny of a nation 
 veered. 
 
 From this time on, Shelby’s Mexican expedition, 
 linked with Maximilian, rose and prospered in a patron- 
 ized colony, as Maximilian’s cause was favored, then 
 fell and failed with the ill-starred Austrian, whose 
 meteoric appearance in the politics of the New World 
 will always arouse attention from the student of 
 history. 
 
 Shelby’s advancing column was soon at the City of 
 ^lexico, and one night, in company with Maury and Ma- 
 gruder, he waited on the young Emperor and in blunt, 
 plain fashion proffered his services to the Empire. 
 
378 
 
 FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 There was no compliance with court etiquette in the 
 grim cavalry commander’s manner as he held his old 
 brown hat in his hand without any deference to the 
 kingly presence, making Maximilian an offer which, if 
 accepted, would undoubtedly have changed the drift of 
 history both iu the Old World and in the New. He told 
 Maximiliau tliat France’s armies would soon be with- 
 drawn and that he must have American troops if he ex- 
 pected to survive. Maximiliau treated Shelby politely, 
 but, as the chivalrous and eutliusiastic Southerner him- 
 self told the Emperor’s interpreter, Maximilian laid 
 faith, but no enthusiasm. “Why,” said Shelby, “not 
 once could 1 bring blood to his face.” The Emperor 
 bowed Shelby out with a substantial declination of the 
 American’s offer to recruit 40,000 Coufedei'ate soldiers 
 to establish the Empire firmly. 
 
 Not disheartened, but declaring that he had ex- 
 pected it, Shelby went back to his imperialistic officers 
 and told them, in laconic sentences: ‘AVe are not 
 
 wanted. I see that you are disappointed. I know 
 why. You have dreamed that France and the United 
 States might come to blows. Bah! The day for that 
 has long gone by. Louis Napoleon has slept too long.” 
 
 The jdans of the men were thus changed. There 
 was no o]»portuuity presented for military glory, and 
 iheir faces must be turi}ed elsewhere. At length, the 
 Emperor looked after their welfare and gave them val 
 liable grants of laud iu a feilile province, where a 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 379 
 
 colony was established, named Oarlotta, after the 
 Empress. 
 
 Nearly two years were spent in changing fortunes in 
 the colony. The members of the band which had 
 crossed the Eio Grande with such buoyant hopes and 
 liigh ambitions gradually scattered, numbers, of them 
 leaving one by one and returning to the United States, 
 where they scattered in the various sections of the 
 country. Others remained and struggled under heavy 
 burdens in Maximilian’s fading realm until the crisis 
 came. Just before the French troops were withdrawn 
 from the Empire, as Shelby warned Maximilian, Em- 
 press Oarlotta started to Paris to i,)lead for the Latin 
 Empire before a Bonaparte. Before her' departure a 
 band of guerrillas attacked her train, but were driven 
 back by attendants. Shelby’s colonists were hastily 
 called together and taken to the assistance of the 
 French at Cesnola. Days and nights were spent in 
 lighting and the purpose of the struggle acconi})lished, 
 ihe siege was raised. The downfall of the Empire 
 was delayed for a season, largely by the valor of Shel- 
 by’s men. 
 
 The last detachment of departing French troops 
 sailed in March, 18G7, and the Mexicans began to close 
 about the fallen Emperor. Maximilian now sent for 
 file blunt, brusque, brave, and faithful Confederate 
 exile and asked for aid. 
 
380 
 
 FIYE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 “How many Americans are there in the country?" 
 he iminired. 
 
 “Xot a corporal's guard who could be gotlen to- 
 gether,” Shelby told him promptly. 
 
 Maximilian again appealed, “I need 20,000 men.” 
 
 “Pardon me,” said Shelby, “if I speak plainly. Yon 
 need 40,000 men. Yon cannot count upon a single regi- 
 ment in your service. There is desertion, desertion — 
 everywhere! Why, the regiment of the Empress, tin' 
 epaulets of whose commander the Empress made, have 
 deserted. You cannot now rely upon numbers — all you 
 can look to now is devotion. I am but one man, but I 
 am at your service.'' 
 
 Maximilian lifted his head, looked at the plain- 
 spoken warrior iidmiringly, then grasped his hands in 
 his, with tears in his eyes and faltering voice, saying: 
 “It is refreshing to listen to the truth. I feel that 
 you told it to me as one who neither fears nor flatters. 
 Accej)t this in parting, and remember that circum- 
 stances never render impossible the light to die for a 
 princi{)le.” 
 
 The gift was the golden cross of the Order of Guade 
 lou])e which the ruler had worn upon his own breast, 
 and which Carlotta had kissed and blessed before her 
 departure. 
 
 With 5,000 men the Emperor moved to the north, 
 evacuating the cai)ital foi' ever. Queretaro was 
 reached. It was at once besieged by the advancing 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 381 
 
 army of Juarists, under General Escobedo. Mexico^ 
 Puebla, and Vera Cruz were simultaneously invested, 
 and the Empire’s fall was about complete. On May 
 15th the Emperor was captured, later tried by court- 
 martial, and then shot. 
 
 Thus went out the Latin Empire, the dream of Na- 
 poleon III., who thought to unite the Latin races in 
 America and consummate the greatest event of modern 
 history. 
 
 If Shelby had been permitted to recruit the army he 
 had proposed to Maximilian, the latter’s fate would 
 probably have been different. On the other hand, a 
 continual war between the ITnited States and France 
 might have followed and an uprising in the South 
 might have occurred, the outcome of which would have 
 been difficult to surmise. 
 
 A word from Maximilian to Shelby that eventful 
 night at Chapultei)ec might have changed the current 
 of history. 
 
 The Civil War had its first chapter in the border 
 strifes, in which Shelby became prominent, and its last 
 chapter in Shelby’s attempt to succor Maximilian. 
 Maximilian's tragic end with the sad breaking up of 
 Carlotta Colony was in fact the close of the War of the 
 Rebellion. 
 
 After the execution of Shelby’s emperor-friend and 
 the restoration of the Eeimblic, there was no longer 
 hope in the straggling members of the Confederate col- 
 
382 
 
 . FIVE FAMOUS MISSOURIANS. 
 
 ony of Carlotta. They therefore abandoned their vari- 
 ous occupations, and severally and in little groups the 
 exiled followers of Shelby returned to the land of their 
 nativity, forever to dwell in peace with all men under 
 the Stars and Stripes. Some of them went to the fai’ 
 west, settling in that portion of the country which had 
 never known the horrors of the Civil War or of the 
 hordei' struggles; others went to various places in the 
 South; while Shelby himself returned to Missouri. 
 
 After the downfall of the Colony of Carlotta and 
 the sul)se(juent return of Shelby to Missouri, he set- 
 lied doAvn to peaceful pui-snits in life and remained in 
 loyal relations Avilh the Union to the day of his deatli. 
 He settled in Uat('S County and set about to recuperate 
 his broken fortunes. He Avas for years the idol of Wes;- 
 ern Coufedei-ates and ]u ominent in the councils of tlie 
 veterans of the Eehellion. He was urged frequently Ip 
 accept polilical honors from his admirers, hut always 
 refused them. At one time he had the Democratii- 
 nomination for goA'ernor of Missouri jiractically Avithin 
 his grasp. 
 
 In 18911 he became a candidate for United States 
 Marshal and received the' ap])ointment fi om President 
 CleA’eland. As an officer of the Federal Government 
 feAA' men Avere so strict in the enforcement of the law 
 and the performance of official duty. He was fearless 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 383 
 
 and determined in his official acts. The last illness of 
 his life was occasioned by a sacrifice in the interests of 
 his official work. He made a trip to southern Mis- 
 souri in the winter of 1896-7 in the pursuit of his duties 
 as a Government officer, and on this trip contracted a 
 cold that resulted in his death, which occurred in 
 February, 1897. He was buried in Forest Hill Cem- 
 etery, Kansas City, Mo. 
 
 OUR SHELBY.* 
 
 BY MRS. T. J. HENRY. 
 
 A Star from out our firmament of adoration 
 
 Went down too soon — its radiance at its height-— 
 
 Amid the grand, resplendent honor of a nation, 
 
 Entrammelled, yet untarnished, in her sorrowing night. 
 
 Within the azure vault of heaven’s own great painting 
 Bright lights grow dim, and fade from mortal eye; 
 
 While others fixed; each round its orbit never feinting. 
 
 Till earth is merged into eternity. 
 
 ♦This poem was written after General Shelby’s death, and 
 read over his grave in Forest Hill Cemetery, by the author, 
 prompted by the following incident; 
 
 When General Shelby left for Richmond to attend the 
 meeting of the United Confederate Veterans for the last time, 
 he expressed a doubt to Mrs. Henry whether he would ever 
 return, and a request for her son to accompany him in case 
 of accident. She said: “You are despondent. General; you will 
 live to write my obituary and many more.” “Never, madam, 
 — 25 — 
 
384 
 
 FIVE FAilOOS MISSOUFIAyS. 
 
 Beleaguered rays still glint, to lume the dark horizon 
 That settles down upon his helpless sleep; 
 
 And scintillations oft will, come and help to liven 
 Around the fragment of His scattered sheep. 
 
 Too soon! Ah, soon!! The dreaded death cloud gathered 
 o’er us. 
 
 In vain we reach to touch his guiding wand; 
 
 In memory see it point, and always press before us 
 To plant our flagstaff tow’rd the mother land. 
 
 His eagle vision flashed athwart this vast dominion, 
 
 And pierced the future as it rose and fell; 
 
 His hovering crest was ours — poor, broken pinion! 
 
 Is folded up too soon — Farewell ! Farewell ! !^ 
 
 A life so woven in with war and peace together; 
 
 The gallant trophies of exalted dreams 
 Will come to us of olden times in roughest weather. 
 
 And clear some dangers from these sullen streams. 
 
 Though threatening onslaughts now menace with wild in- 
 flections. 
 
 And deep imbroglios rise from sea to sea. 
 
 His bulwark stands beside in hallow’d recollection, 
 
 Anfl brings some transport back to you and me. 
 
 With woof and warp entangled, came this great hiatus. 
 
 The stoppage of the shuttle working strong in death. 
 
 On life’s platform standing, while hopes and fears await us. 
 But the rushing engine ’s throttled; we ’re left, 
 
 never,” he replied; and grasping each other’s hand to say good- 
 bye, with tears in his eyes, again he insisted, “You will write 
 mine.” At that moment, before the farewell was finished, a 
 stranger called him into his office. Mrs. Henry observed that 
 the door closed after him, and remarked to a gentleman stand- 
 ing near, “I fear we shall never see the General again,” which 
 proved to be true. 
 
JOSEPH 0. SHELBY. 
 
 385 
 
 Distressed, dismayed, alas! and know not whither trending, 
 The leader gone; the hapless flock astray; 
 
 Like splintei’ed reeds aghast in consternation bending; 
 
 The wind-break taken, nor the storm at bay. 
 
 And here we stand, distraught with grief and desolation; 
 
 The night upon us, and no star to see; 
 
 All tethered down by age, in need of consolation 
 That oped unstinted to his boundless lee. 
 
 Wherein the old ship riding safely, with top-sail furled, 
 
 I’ve heard the hailing of his seamen. Come! 
 
 Leaking! Sinking!! Foundered!!! Back the welcome echo 
 hurled. 
 
 Steady, soldiei-s; out of breakers; here ’s room! 
 
 I ’ve heard the wails of widows, orphans, wives — aye, strangers. 
 
 Struggling, crowding on that crippled starboard; 
 
 I ’ve seen the friendly handshake dripping out of dangers; 
 Beggar, courtier, friend, alike were harbored. 
 
 Upon this fleld with watch-fires quenched, nor colors flying. 
 We’ve come to lay him by his own in sleep; 
 
 The hard-fought battle here, the val’rous heroes dying; 
 
 A soldier’s vigils by our troths we ’ll keep. 
 
 Our darlings slain in youth’s bright manhood here to cherish, 
 Though many years have passed in bitter grief; 
 
 With loving 6are, each cycling season come to nourish. 
 
 The trees, the flowers, and the rip’ning sheaf. 
 
 These luscious perfumes seem so freighted down with sadness. 
 To ’ve caught the drifting of our thoughts to-day; 
 
 The cheery little songsters have suppressed their gladness. 
 Their whistlings seem like music far away. 
 
386 
 
 FITE FAMOUS MISSOURI AES. 
 
 Till wave ou wave, may ’ve reached to distant homesteads 
 broken; 
 
 Poor mothers! If their souls had arms, would be 
 To-day around us weeping, with a loving token 
 More plaintive far than this weird minstrelsy. 
 
 Forget not, oh! the widow, ’reft and broken-hearted; 
 
 For sunny days can come to her no more, 
 
 The blighting traces of this aching wound have smarted. 
 
 Till life-blood trickles from the anguished sore. 
 
 Let vandal tongues deride and scoff our soul’s lost treasure; 
 
 The scum on swelling tides must come and go; 
 
 But dreams and joys, crushed hopes in retrospective measure,. 
 Grow stronger, purer, as they ebb and flow. 
 
 Somewhere in mystic future, armies, friends once plighted. 
 
 Will rise together on those happier planes. 
 
 And there, in glorious judgment, wrongs will be righted; 
 
 For God Almighty still supremely reigns. 
 
 THE END.