REVS. W. CLEAVELAND AND JESSE BIRD.
Ministers of other Churches in the Fellowship of Suffering and on the
Rolls of Martyrdom—_Rev. Wm. Cleaveland_ Arrested for Preaching in a
Rebel Camp—Imprisoned and Insulted—Made to Pray for Mr. Lincoln on a
Loyal Cannon—Rev. Captain Cox, a Northern Methodist Preacher, his
Persecutor—Other Indignities—Indicted, Arrested and Arraigned as a
Common Felon for Preaching without taking the “Test Oath”—_Rev.
Jesse Bird_ Arrested, Silenced and Banished—Losses, Exposure and
Hardships of his Family—Returns—Arrested and put in Jail for
Preaching without taking the “Test Oath”—Public Indignation—The Most
Virulent Persecutors Subsequently Elevated to the Highest Civil
Offices.
The ministers of the M. E. Church, South, were not the only sufferers.
Persecution may sometimes be exclusive and exceptional, but oftener it
is indiscriminate. The class of persons marked, or “spotted,” for
proscription and persecution was not confined to any one Church.
Religious creeds were not so much involved as sectarian domination and
sectional hatred. To exterminate, or expel from the State, that class of
men who had not received their tone and type from New England, or had
not fallen in heartily with the loyal religion and the religious
loyalty, seemed to be a settled purpose.
It will be conceded that the ministers of the Methodist Church, South,
were the greater sufferers, for reasons heretofore given; but to deny
others who sacrificed and suffered nobly in the same cause a conspicuous
place in the history of those stirring times would be both ungenerous
and unjust. Many of the noblest martyrs of this period were connected
with other Churches, and heroically and grandly sustained the moral
heroism of the Missouri ministry. Common sufferings have sanctified the
common fellowship and softened the asperities of sectarian feeling. It
has measurably fused the religious heart and diffused the religious
charity. Such men as Cleaveland, Duval, McPheeters, Wollard and others,
are welcomed to the fellowship of suffering and the rolls of martyrdom.
The following statement is inserted as written. The language might be
softened and the spirit toned down to advantage, but a prohibition only
secures the facts; they can not be left out.
CASE OF THE REV. WM. CLEAVELAND, A MISSIONARY BAPTIST.
“I write as a witness for God and his Church, without fee or reward, to
vindicate truth and to furnish a correct history of facts concerning
myself and my acts which can neither be denied nor gainsaid.
“‘Nothing shall I extenuate,
Nor aught set down in malice.’
“I am a minister of the gospel of the Missionary Baptist order, and
pastor of the churches at Emerson, in Marion county, and Monticello and
Mount Gilead, in Lewis county, Missouri; and nearly sixty years of age.
In 1862, whilst attending as a member of an Association of the Baptist
churches of ——, Col. Martin A. Green, commanding a detachment of
Missouri troops in sympathy with the Southern cause, encamped a mile or
two off, and despatched a messenger requesting the Association to
appoint a minister to hold religious services and preach to his regiment
on the Sabbath day. I was assigned to this duty by the Association, and
performed it to the best of my humble ability. Perfect order prevailed,
much feeling was exhibited, and I received compliments and other
expressions of gratitude above measure.
“Returning to my home from the Association, after its close, I was
arrested in the presence of my family by an armed force commanded by an
officer in Federal uniform, marched off hurriedly to ‘headquarters’ in
the city of Hannibal, and there confined a close prisoner in a filthy,
cheerless hovel denominated a ‘guard-house,’ without fire to warm me, a
bed to lie upon, or food to sustain nature, until my masters chose to
permit my friends to furnish me supplies. Repeated efforts were made by
my relations, brethren of the Church and others, to communicate with me
and furnish me necessaries, but all in vain. The subalterns dressed in
uniform, who, in the character of sentinels, haunted me like spectres,
appeared much gratified to have jurisdiction around, and haughtily
domineered, ridiculed, sneered and blustered as if to torture me into
submission and humble me as in the dust. Meantime I put my trust in God,
and continued ‘instant in prayer.’ Somehow I felt an extraordinary
assurance that He whose right arm brought deliverance to Daniel, and to
Paul and Silas, would rescue me from the snare of the enemy. About nine
o’clock on the succeeding Monday morning a Northern Methodist preacher
calling himself ‘Captain Cox,’ with a squad of armed men, entered my
miserable and filthy prison, and, with an air of much authority,
commanded me to march forthwith into the presence of Col. David Moore,
who demanded that I immediately appear before him as commander of the
garrison.
“Glad of any change in my gloomy situation, I arose and started, closely
followed by my reverend persecutor, ‘Captain Cox,’ and his insolent
myrmidons, until ordered to ‘halt’ in front of the quarters of the
commanding officer. Being ushered in, I found Colonel Moore surrounded
by an ill-mannered, ruffian-like multitude, who stared and sneered as if
I were a curiosity on exhibition. The salutation of the commander was,
‘Are you a rebel?’ I answered that I had rebelled against the empire of
Satan many years before and intended to continue in that warfare while
life should last. ‘The hell and damnation you have!’ exclaimed the
gentlemanly commander, in a loud tone of voice. I then said, ‘I am a
minister of the gospel, sir, and it is my business to make war against
the kingdom of Satan. This, and this alone, is my occupation and my
daily employment, and this alone I expect to do.’ ‘Are you a Southern
man?’ asked he. ‘I was born in the South, raised and educated there, and
my sympathies irresistibly lead me in that direction. Custom, tradition,
my construction of the teachings of the Bible and ancient and modern
history convinced me and established my belief to the effect that the
institutions of the South were morally, socially, politically and
religiously right, and I could not conscientiously say that I was not a
Southern man.’ ‘Other men control their sympathies,’ said he, ‘why can
you not do the same and harmonize with the North as well as the South?’
I frankly replied that I would not believe the man that would tell me
so. Habit and education made a man’s opinions, and the convictions of a
lifetime of three score years could not be changed in an hour. ‘How do
you like old Abe?’ said he. ‘In some respects well enough; in others not
so well. On the whole, I don’t endorse him as a President.’ ‘The hell
you don’t!’ said he, whilst his surrounding admirers screamed with
laughter. ‘Did you pray for _them_ rebels?’ said he. ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘Did
you preach to them?’ ‘Yes, sir.’ ‘How long were you in Green’s camp?’
‘Two or three hours, perhaps.’ ‘Why did you go there and pray and preach
to _them_ damned rebels?’ said he. ‘Colonel Green sent a request to our
Association, then in session near his camping ground, for a minister to
be sent to preach to his men on the Sabbath day, and the Association
deputized me to the task, all of which facts would appear in our
published proceedings.’ ‘Damned glad you were to go, no doubt; and since
you love praying for rebels so well, I will make you do a little _loyal_
praying.’ ‘As to _loyal_ or _disloyal_ praying, I have no knowledge, but
being commanded to pray for all men I endeavor to do so everywhere,
lifting up holy hands without wrath and doubting.’ I then demanded to
know why I was there a prisoner; what was my offense, and who was my
accuser. He answered in a violent and spiteful manner, that ‘for
preaching and praying for rebels in a rebel camp he had ordered my
arrest, and that as a punishment for treason I should remain in the
guard-house a prisoner, on coarse fare, for nine days, and should offer
each day a public prayer for Old Abe.’ Having grown impatient at the
abuse and insults of which I had been the subject so long, I replied:
‘Col. Moore, I am told you have a praying wife; and I thank God this day
that I am counted worthy to be punished for preaching the gospel of
Jesus Christ and praying for sinners. Sir, I esteem it a privilege and
an honor, and shall not only pray, as my penance requires, for ‘Mr.
Lincoln,’ but shall pray with all my heart for all other sinners,
especially such as are associated in authority with him.’ Springing
suddenly to his feet, ‘take him,’ said he, and with much coarse abuse
added, ‘convey him under guard back to the guard-house, imprison him,
give him prisoner’s rations, keep sentinels around him; and Captain Cox,
I shall look to you to see this order executed.’ Hurried buck to the
stench and filth of my prison house, accompanied by my armed guard, I
remained until the next morning, when I was summoned to march out, and
followed by several armed men with fixed bayonets and was conducted to a
spot where the cannon were stationed. The regiment had been drawn up and
formed into an irregular hollow square, in mockery. Many of the officers
slunk away, while others stood and incited the men to giggle and perform
antics to make the scene ludicrous and mortifying. As my divine Master,
like a lamb before its shearers, was dumb, so I opened not my mouth. In
an exultant and authoritative manner, the Rev. Capt. Cox, my loving
Christian brother, a preacher of the Northern Methodist Church, as
before stated, commanded me to ‘mount that cannon and offer prayer for
Mr. Lincoln, in obedience to orders, as a penance for praying in a rebel
camp.’
“Being an old man, and weighing between two and three hundred pounds;
having had scarcely an hour’s rest for several days and nights; having
had no change of clothing and no privilege of ablutions of any kind, I
felt very badly, and with difficulty climbed to the top of the
cannon-carriage, and there lifted up my heart and hands and voice to
Jehovah in humble, fervent prayer. I felt greatly lifted up, much
revived and encouraged, and my faith seemed as it were to grasp the very
horns of the altar. The glory of the Lord shone forth, the Shekinah
appeared to come down and rest upon the camp, and fear came upon the
men. The pious rejoiced, the wicked were ashamed, and astonishment
pervaded the scene. At the conclusion of my prayer, still standing in
the ridiculous attitude I was made to occupy upon the cannon, I opened
my eyes and looking around upon what had been my fun-making and
pleasure-seeking audience of soldiers and citizens, I discovered many
weeping, others hurrying away in disorder, and even the blasphemous
Colonel Moore was said to have shed tears. Knowing I had committed no
offense against the laws of God or man, and that my blessed Master had
been stoned, spit upon, whipped with cords, dressed in mock royalty,
crowned with thorns and driven through the public streets in derision
for the sport of the mob, I took courage and hoped for the best. ‘If
they did those things in the green tree, what might they not do in the
dry?’ The weapons of my warfare were not carnal. Yet these wicked men,
actuated by the same malignant spirit which prompted their prototypes to
lay violent hands on the Son of God, seized me, an humble and obscure
preacher of righteousness, guilty of no offense, and to gratify their
malignity, dragged me around, followed by soldiers with muskets and
bayonets, exposed me to ridicule and attempted to force me to make a
mockery of religion, and thus (as they hoped) bring the Church into
dishonor and disgrace. ‘But the ways of the Lord are marvelous in our
eyes,’ for
“‘Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never failing skill,
He treasures up his bright designs
And works his sovereign will.’
“Hastened from this scene by the peremptory order of my Rev. Brother,
Capt. Cox, I was conducted by an armed guard back to the filth and
stench of the guard-house, and there remained, each day going through
the same blasphemous exhibition, except that I was allowed to stand on
the ground instead of the cannon to offer up my prayer. Many of the
soldiers professed repentance, and whilst stationed as sentinels around
me tendered me their sympathies, extended many kindnesses, and pledged
me that, dying in battle, or when or where they might, they would try to
meet me in heaven. Verily and of a truth ‘the Lord maketh the wrath of
man to praise him.’
“Shortly after these events Col. Moore and his command were ordered
South, where they participated in the battle of Shiloh, or Pittsburg
Landing, as it is sometimes called. The regiment was cut to pieces,
Colonel Moore lost a leg by a _shot from a cannon_, and his Major,
Barnabas Sing, to whose instigation my friends attributed much of my
suffering, was killed. The Rev. ‘Captain Cox’ seems to have kept out of
harm’s way on that fearful day, for—now that our homes are made a ruin,
our land shrouded in mourning, and our dwellings sad and sorrowful on
account of the absence of the loved ones who were cruelly murdered in
the presence and amid the cries and shrieks of wives, mothers and babes,
as well as the brave who fell in battle—he comes again. Not bedecked
with the tinsel and trappings of authority, to shut up old gray-headed
men in loathsome prisons, march them around surrounded by bayonets, and
force them to mount cannons and pray for the amusement and sport of the
soldiery and the mob for preaching the gospel to sinners. Lo! he comes
again in the lowly habiliments of Christianity, commissioned by the
Bishops of the Northern Methodist Church, as an accredited minister of
that Church, to teach religion and preach the gospel amongst us, for
which purpose the _Rev. ‘Captain’_ is now perambulating Marion and
adjoining counties. ‘Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord.’
“One would suppose that malignity had exhausted itself in the deeds of
the foregoing recital. Not so. While on business in Hannibal one day,
after the foregoing had occurred, word came that Col. McDaniel and his
battalion of the advance guard of the Confederate army under General
Price was marching in that direction; and, having left my wife and
daughter at home alone, I called upon Col. J. T. K. Hayward, then in
command of the post, for a permit to pass out of the city and go to my
family, who would necessarily be much alarmed, and explained my
situation. Being a member of the Church, a Presbyterian elder, I
expected, of course, Christianlike courtesy. But, to my surprise, I was
insolently repelled, vindictively insulted, and peremptorily ordered to
remain where I was. Stung with disappointment and burning with
indignation, I submitted as patiently as I could, and implored
commiseration in the name of my unprotected family. Remorseless as a
bloodhound and pitiless as a hyena, he was inexorable, and forced me to
remain until McDaniel retired and his scare subsided. At the
solicitation of leading citizens, he then granted me a permit to go, but
accompanied the paper with a gruff intimation that the issues of life
and death were in his grasp, and by the nod of his head he ‘could have
me shot.’ Perhaps this violence of feeling may have resulted from the
fact that the brave Colonel Hayward had, at a recent period, been
captured by a Confederate officer, relieved of his watch, his spurs, his
purse, his pistols, sword, epaulets, horse and equipments, and paroled
on his oath and pledge of honor, both of which he had violated, and was
again in arms wreaking vengeance on unarmed and innocent persons. I make
no mention of the particulars of the murder of a friendless stranger,
laboring under _delirium tremens_, who had just landed from a steamer,
and was by his order shot to death upon the wharf at the city of
Hannibal.
“Circumstances indicated that my life and my property were eager objects
of the pursuit of this class of men. By day or by night, at all hours,
and in different ways, my family were often disturbed and interrupted by
them. My wife and daughter were made to perform menial service for any
number who chose to demand it; whilst the filthy vagabonds, in the
uniform of Federal soldiers, would ransack the premises and deface,
destroy and steal anything of value they could find in the house or out
of it. One night myself and family were aroused about twelve o’clock by
the heavy tread of swift-moving horses, and a loud yell at the door
informed us that soldiers—two of whom, calling themselves ‘Tabor and
Watson, of Capt. John D. Meredith’s company of the 39th Missouri
regiment,’ (which Meredith is now sheriff of Marion county)—had come
with orders from their superiors to demand my horse and saddle. They
said they were in rapid pursuit of the noted Confederate scout, Bill
Anderson, and his command; were directed to press into service whatever
they needed; must have my horse, and intended to give no quarter until
the last officer and man of the enemy were slain. When this was
accomplished they should next turn their attention to those who
sympathized with the rebels, and would clean out every man, woman and
child, until they had made their lands a desolation and their homes a
solitude. Intermingling these threats with vulgar epithets and bitter
denunciation, they dashed off; and, as their receding forms faded away
in the darkness carrying off my fine young horse, my only means of
reaching my appointments at the different churches to preach and perform
other ministerial duties, a strange and fearful sensation crept over me,
as if sad events lay buried in the future. The curtain was soon lifted.
A few days brought the mournful intelligence that ‘Johnson’s battalion
had encountered the foe and was annihilated.’ On the plain, and in full
view of the city of Centralia, in Boone county, the conflict transpired,
and of all the ‘bloody 39th,’ as its commander boastfully called it, who
entered the field that day, not a platoon of officers, horses and men
escaped death, including my poor horse, which, being ridden by a
subaltern officer, is said to have sunk down with his rider in the midst
of the battle to rise no more.
“In the order of divine providence friends came to my relief, and I was
enabled, with some difficulty, to pursue my work, although much
harassed, sorely vexed and often cast down by fears without and cares
within, for my life was often threatened.
“In common with other brethren who feared God rather than Cæsar, I was
in due time indicted by the grand jury of Marion county for preaching
the gospel to lost sinners without first committing perjury by taking a
false oath. Arraigned as a felon on my blessed Lord’s account, I felt
honored, for the servant is not above his master. I stood at the bar of
justice, as he stood before Pontius Pilate; and, although surrounded by
murderers, burglars, horse thieves and others of the baser sort, I there
remained, attending their calls from court to court, until for very
shame the disgraceful and blasphemous scene was closed by the
prosecuting lawyer, Walter M. Boulware, Esq., dismissing the suit; and
the Hon. William P. Harrison, now acting as Judge of the Court,
discharged me and released my securities, who had entered into bond for
a large amount to keep me out of jail. Glory be to God! I am still
alive; and, unless sooner taken hence, I feel that there are still some
years of service in me, which shall be given with a willing heart to
that cause for which I have suffered, and am still willing, if need be,
to suffer on.
“‘God moves in a mysterious way,
His wonders to perform;
He plants his footsteps in the sea,
And rides upon the storm.’
“WILLIAM CLEAVELAND.
“_Marion County, Mo., May 8, 1869._”
The Rev. Mr. Cleaveland has for many years stood high in the part of
Missouri where he resides, as an orderly, quiet, earnest minister of the
gospel, and now looks back on the scene of his persecutions with
feelings that he can scarcely control. His only offense—that he preached
in a camp of rebel soldiers in obedience to the authority of the
Association; and for this he was not only arrested and imprisoned, but
grossly insulted and rudely maligned by the permission and authority of
one who styled himself a minister of the gospel. But he told his own
story, and it is better without note or comment.
REV. JESSE BIRD.
This able and useful minister of the gospel has long been a member of
the Missouri Annual Conference, M. E. Church, South. Few men have stood
higher in the estimation of his brethren in the ministry or the
communities where his labors have been bestowed. The positions filled by
him in the pastoral, educational and judicial departments of the Church
for many years, and the ability and fidelity with which he met every
responsibility, attest the confidence of the Church and the high
appreciation of the Conference of which he is an honored member. The
spirit that will prompt men to the exercise of such petty tyranny as
that detailed in Mr. Cleaveland’s case, and now to be narrated by Mr.
Bird, must be the spirit of Antichrist. Neither of the gentlemen was
guilty of any civil, political, military or moral offense. But hear him:
“Dear Brother—I see in the _Advocate_ a notice requesting persons to
give information of the persecutions of ministers of the gospel in
Missouri. I send you the following very concise statement of facts in my
own case.
In the fall of 1861 I was appointed by the President of the Missouri
Conference to the St. Joseph District. On my first round I went to my
Quarterly Meeting for Rockport Circuit, at Spencer’s Chapel, in Atchison
county. Arriving at the chapel at 11 o’clock Nov. 9, I found a pole had
been raised by the door with rope fastened to it for the purpose of
hoisting a flag. There was no one present. I waited a little and saw two
men approaching. They informed me that a burial was going on in the
neighborhood, and the preaching was postponed till 3 o’clock.
“In the evening I returned to the church in company with a few persons.
As we approached the house I saw two men hoisting a flag in great haste.
Fastening the rope as quickly as possible, they ran and hid themselves
inside a field. Coming up to the house and seeing what had been done, I
declined going in, stating that I would preach under no political flag;
that I should not mix my religion with politics. I was invited to preach
at a private house and did so. I was not interrupted again until on my
second round.
“On the 6th of Feb., 1862, I commenced a Quarterly Meeting at Oregon,
Holt county. The meeting went on quietly and prosperously until Monday
morning, when the flag was hoisted over the door of the church. I again
declined going in for the same reasons. In the course of two or three
hours I was arrested, cursed and abused in various ways and threatened
by some men who styled themselves solders. I was then sent in charge of
two young men to Forest City and requested to ‘take the oath,’ which I
also declined. But in order to get off and out of the hands of the law,
I agreed to go before a magistrate and take a civil oath to observe the
Constitution and laws. From Oregon I returned home and found a notice in
my postoffice at Rochester from Ben. Loan, the commander at St. Joseph,
requiring me to appear before him immediately. I went down and inquired
for what purpose he had sent for me, when he replied: ‘You are not to
preach any more in this district.’ ‘Is this all?’ I inquired. ‘You must
go and take the oath,’ he replied. I informed him that I should not take
the oath; that he could put me in prison or banish me from the State, as
he had done others. He immediately made out an order for me to leave the
State within thirty days. This was done in the city of St. Joseph, Feb.
14, 1862. I was not restricted to any particular bounds. The ground was
then covered with snow and ice to the depth of six or eight inches. I
had no money to bear expenses, save about fifty dollars. I gave about
two prices for a wagon, put what I could in it, and leaving my house and
crop of corn in the prairie, I started on a cold, stormy day (the 20th
day of Feb., 1862,) with my wife in feeble health, to go I knew not
whither, and that for no other reason than that I was a Southern
Methodist preacher and would not swear falsely.
“This move made it necessary to sacrifice the grain and stock my little
boys had worked for, together with our furniture and a good portion of
my library. I was accompanied by my daughter and two little sons, and
also by Benjamin Bird, his wife and two young children. We started South
and traveled four days, reaching the river opposite Lexington, and
finding the ice giving way, and there being no boat, we turned up the
river to Camden, Ray county, stopping at Brother Menefee’s, a most
excellent family, where we remained some three or four days. Leaving
Camden we went up the bottom to a point opposite Napoleon, in Lafayette
county, where we remained in camp two or three days, when, the ice
clearing away, we crossed the Missouri river and proceeded through cold
and storm until we had passed the town of Clinton, in Henry county.
“Here we met some men who told us, as others had the day before, that we
could not proceed beyond the Osage. The Jayhawkers and Home Guards were
robbing all who attempted to go through. We turned round and came back
to Lafayette county, and finding an empty house near Greenton, stopped
and spent the spring and summer there.
“In a few days I went down to Lexington, saw the commander of that post
and got a sound cursing for my trouble. Returning to my family and
finding the people of the neighborhood very kind and generous, we
remained until the last of August, when we returned to our home in
Andrew county.
“I will say nothing of my trials from that time till the close of the
war, except that I preached but little. A part of this time I was
nominally the Presiding Elder of St. Joseph District.
“About Christmas, 1865, I was employed by the Presiding Elder, H. H.
Hedgepeth, to take charge of the Savannah Circuit. I commenced my work
immediately, and continued preaching regularly until my last appointment
at Savannah, in August, 1866. I had been threatened at different times
during the summer by mobs, and sometimes I thought it quite likely I
should be put to death by the lawless rabble, but I was left unmolested
until I was about to finish my work on the circuit. On Sunday the people
expected an interruption while I was preaching, but all continued quiet
till night. While in the pulpit I noticed some men come in and whisper
to each other and go out, and presently return. When the services closed
I heard a lady say: ‘They are at the door.’ I quietly walked out and
went to my room, nobody disturbing me. Next morning I was told they were
preparing to arrest me.
“After I had adjusted my affairs, about 10 o’clock, I went home. Having
proceeded about two hundred yards I saw the Deputy Sheriff coming at
full speed after me. Knowing what it meant, I stopped till he came up.
He said he was authorized to arrest me. I was taken before a justice of
the peace, who had issued the warrant for my arrest upon the affidavit
of one of the party that came into the church on Sunday night. The said
justice inquired if I pleaded _guilty or not guilty to the crime of
preaching the gospel to the people, in violation of the Fundamental Law
of the State of Missouri_. I pleaded _guilty_. Whereupon the said
officer required me to give bond for my appearance at the next session
of the court, which I declined; consequently I was taken by the Sheriff
of Andrew county and lodged in the jail of Buchanan county, in the city
of St. Joseph, there being no jail in Andrew county. This was done the
27th of August, 1866. I remained in prison about three hours, when the
Sheriff of Buchanan county, accompanied by Judge Woodson and others of
St. Joseph, came and opened the door of the jail and let me out. On
Monday following the Circuit Court of Buchanan county came on, and the
judge declining to try the case I gave bond for my appearance at the
next term of the Circuit Court for Andrew county, at which time and
place I was indicted for preaching the gospel. I took a change of venue
to Buchanan county, and before the sitting of the court the decision of
the Supreme Court of the United States had set aside the Test Oath, and
that ended the matter with me.
“You can make what use of these statements you please in the forthcoming
history of the persecution in Missouri. I should have given names, but I
have forgotten most of them.
“Yours, very truly, JESSE BIRD.
“_Plattsburg, Mo., Feb. 8, 1869._”
The account of Mr. Bird’s arrest and imprisonment, and subsequent
indictment for preaching the gospel without taking the oath prescribed
in the New Constitution, could not well be separated from the narrative
of his other persecutions.
The author was in St. Joseph when he was brought down from Andrew county
and lodged in the jail with common felons. He had many friends in the
community, and to see him through the heavy iron grates, classed with
horse thieves, burglars, murderers and other criminals, caused no little
popular indignation. Men hurried to and fro after attorneys, judges,
officers and friends, and stood on the corners in animated conversation
until the public excitement boded no peace. The Sheriff of Buchanan
county acted prudently and wisely in releasing him on his verbal parole.
No other course would have appeased the public indignation or allayed
the ever-widening and deepening excitement. No threats of violence were
heard, and yet the indications in the public mind could not be mistaken.
Mr. Bird and the Church will ever be under obligations to Hon. Silas
Woodson, of St. Joseph, for his prompt and efficient attention to the
case. He made an earnest but ineffectual effort to get the case before
Judge Heron, then on the Circuit Court bench, on a writ of _habeas
corpus_. But the Judge was a little weak-kneed and did not wish to
damage his prospects for a seat in the U. S. Congress, and refused
informally to grant a writ or have anything to do with the case.
More will be said on this subject at another time and in another
connection.
It may as well be stated here, however, as a noteworthy fact, that the
military officers and others who were the most officious and efficient
in the persecution of ministers of the gospel, during the war and since,
have subsequently been elevated to the most honorable and lucrative
offices in the gift of the people. While the people have professed the
strongest disapprobation of these persecutions, it can not be denied
that for some reasons the perpetrators of the grossest outrages upon
ministers of the gospel have filled and are now filling the highest
civil offices.