Martyrdom in Missouri, Volume 1 (of 2)

Rev. A. Monroe, the Patriarch of Missouri Methodism—Age, Honor and Sanctity not Exempt from Profanation—Mr. Monroe and his Wife Arrested in Fayette—Mrs. Monroe’s Trials and Witty Retorts—How Mr. Monroe Escaped the Bond—Robbed of Everything by Kansas Soldiers in 1864—An Old Man Without his Mittens—A Tower of Strength—“Our Moses”—Calls the Palmyra Convention—Rev. W. M. Rush—The Character of Missouri Preachers—A Native Missourian—Settles in Chillicothe—In St. Joseph the First Year of the War—Caution in Public Worship—An Offensive Prayer by Rev. W. C. Toole—General Loan Closes the Church and Deposes Mr. Rush from the Ministry by Military Order—General W. P. Hall vs. Mr. Rush—Hall Publishes a Letter that Denies Mr. Rush Protection, and Exposes him to Assassination—Mr. Rush Returns to Chillicothe—His House a Stable and his Home a Desolation—Bold Attempt to Assassinate him—Correspondence with General Hall—Goes to St. Louis—Masonic Endorsement—In Charge of the Mound Church—Will Hear of Him Again—Rev. Nathaniel Wollard Murdered in Dallas County—Horrible Details—Particulars—Reflections.

Rev. Andrew Monroe.

Even this venerable and honored servant of God—now the Patriarch of Missouri Methodism—was not exempt from trials and troubles during the late war. If a venerable form, erect and majestic; grey locks, long and flowing; lofty mien, benign and saintly; a pure life, long and useful; an honored name, associated with the history of the good and pure in the State; saintly beneficence, sanctified to the highest purposes of the gospel, and a meek and quiet spirit diffused through the toil, and suffering, and labor, and triumphs of half a century in the ministry could disarm malice, awe the passions into reverence, break the force of prejudice and shield the person and property, the home and happiness, the liberty and life from vicious violation and petty profanation, then Andrew Monroe had lived in peace unmolested, and his humble house, a freeman’s sacred castle, been secure from the tread of vandalism and the hand of plunder. But no altar was too sacred, no home too pure, no name too greatly reverenced and no life too pure and holy to deter the invader or wither the sacrilegious hand of the spoiler. Meanness was not an incident of the war, and sacrilege was not confined to Mexican guerrillas. Men are naturally mean, and depravity is a fact of human nature. Nor did the war make thieves, and robbers, and murderers, and highwaymen; they were such before, the occasion only was wanting. The sunbeam does not create, it only reveals the motes in the atmosphere. The war furnished the occasion and unveiled the meanness of men; the pure gospel ministry rebuked it, and, naturally enough, provoked its malice and became its victim. Even Andrew Monroe, the noble old Roman, could not escape.

In the winter of 1862 the Rev. A. Monroe was traveling the Fayette Circuit, Missouri Conference M. E. Church, South, and living in the town of Fayette, Howard county. Fayette, like all other towns of importance in the State, was a military post, with one Major Hubbard in command.

One day of that winter Mr. Monroe and his family were surprised by the appearance of a Federal officer and a squad of men entering his humble home, placing him and his wife under arrest, and marching them off to headquarters, for what offense they never knew.

The soldiers had arrested many other ladies and gentlemen at the same time, and they had plenty of company when they reached headquarters, amongst whom was the Rev. Dr. W. H. Anderson, then President of Central College.

When Major Hubbard came in and saw the number of ladies present under arrest he affected surprise, and said that he had not ordered their arrest; that his subalterns had transcended his orders, and at once informed the ladies that they were released, remarking at the same time that when he wished to see them he would not send for them, but do himself the pleasure of calling at their homes. To which Mrs. Monroe promptly replied that she was obliged to him for releasing them so early, but as for seeing him, she had no desire whatever to see him at her house or anywhere else.

Many a true and modest woman had occasion during those troublous times to call upon her ready wit to reply to the various impertinent inquiries and demands of a ruffian soldiery; and while Mrs. Monroe was surprised at her own courage, her indignation was somewhat appeased when she observed the cutting effect of her retort. Not many days afterward she had occasion again for her ready wit and her Christian fortitude and forbearance. Very early in the morning five soldiers called and demanded breakfast. Mr. Monroe was at home, but he soon retreated from the front door and called upon his wife to meet the issue. She had no help, and the idea of cooking for so many, and these, too, whom she believed to be her enemies, and who would not hesitate to do her any injury, was very repulsive. But to get rid of them was a difficult question, as many ladies know. By the time she reached the front door and heard their request her answer was ready. She replied, “My Bible teaches me, ‘If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink;’ upon these terms and no other you can get breakfast.” To her surprise one of them said, “Madam, we will accept breakfast upon those terms, for I profess to be somewhat acquainted with the Bible.” She thought they would turn and go away in a rage, but, on the contrary, she had to turn and get breakfast for “her enemies” with the best grace she could.

It turned out that the spokesman was a local preacher in the Northern Methodist Church, and at the table he remarked to Mrs. Monroe that his father was as great a rebel as she was. To which she replied, that it was a thousand pities that he had so far departed from the ways of his father as to be a degenerate son of an honored sire. Whereupon he said, “As a loyal man, I would hate awfully to have to live with such a rebel. Gen. Price could well afford to issue a commission to you, madam.”

Not many days after this Mr. Monroe was just ready to mount his horse one morning for a tour of appointments in the country, when a soldier appeared with orders to arrest him and take him to the headquarters of Capt. Hale, then commanding the post. The venerable man of God was then marched up to headquarters at the point of the bayonet and required to take the military oath, (so-called), and give bond, with good security, for his future loyalty to the Government, and for the loyalty and good order of his family, the Captain remarking that “the secesh talk of the women of his family should be stopped.” Mr. Monroe replied that he could take the oath if he would then let him go about his Master’s work, but as for the bond, he must excuse him, as he did not wish to involve his friends and he had but little property. If it was his little property he was after, he might as well go and take charge of that at once and let him go about his business. The Captain saw the point and told him to take the oath then and “go preach the gospel to every creature.”

“In 1864 Mr. Monroe was living on a farm about eight miles from Glasgow, in Howard county, when General Price made his famous raid into Central Missouri, and took Glasgow amongst other places. The day before the battle of Glasgow Mr. Monroe was out in a field on his little farm, and his family all away from home except a servant, when a company of Kansas soldiers passing along the road halted, entered the house and robbed it of everything of value they could find. The house was literally pillaged. Mr. Monroe’s watch, a fine cloth coat, several pairs of bed-blankets, quilts, comforts, and, indeed, everything of any value to them. While thus engaged they saw a young man who lived near approaching the house, all unconscious of what was going on. He was arrested and relieved of all his money, $75. One rough-looking Dutch soldier rode out to the field and accosted the venerable man with an imperative demand for his money. When he found that he had but two dollars in the world, he would not take it, but rode back in disgust. A young man—Mr. Monroe’s nephew—was met near the house on his uncle’s only riding horse, with his only saddle and bridle. The young man was arrested, and the horse and equipments taken to Glasgow and never heard from afterward.

Thus, in one single hour, the venerable servant of God stood alone in his field, stripped of everything he had—horse, watch, clothes, blankets, bedding—everything of value. What must have been the feelings of Mrs. Monroe on returning home, after an absence of just one hour, to find her house plundered by a ruffian soldiery, and her husband beggared. To complete the work, a small squad of soldiers passed along soon afterward, and when they could find nothing else to steal or appropriate, a rough, drunken Dutchman demanded of the old man his woolen mittens, which a lady had but recently given him. He gave them up, and considered himself fortunate to get off so easy.

With such petty annoyances, involving privation and suffering, this faithful minister of the gospel—this pioneer and patriarch of Missouri Methodism—passed through the dark and trying scenes of the late civil war, always hopeful and joyful, and ready to rejoice that he was counted worthy to suffer for a cause of which himself was the finest type, and a principle to maintain which he was willing to go even to prison and to death. To the struggling cause of Christ and his suffering friends he was a tower of strength, to the discomfited and disheartened hosts of the Methodist Israel, he was “our Moses.” When “these calamities were overpassed,” and the shock of war had expended its fire and force—when the smoke of battle cleared away, and the stormcloud hung low upon the horizon, he surveyed the field, marked the desolation, measured the extent of the wreck, discovered some remains of Zion’s former beauty, while others, with indecent haste, sounded her funeral knell; and his voice, like that of a mighty chieftain, was heard over the prairies, along the railroads and in the cities of Missouri, calling the faithful to duty, and rallying the scattered forces for counsel. Upon his call a few ministers and friends convened in Palmyra, in June, 1865, and decreed the life of the Church, the resuscitation of her vital powers, the recovery of her lost ground, and the rehabilitation of her distinctive institutions and organs. (See the particulars of this Palmyra meeting in its appropriate place.)

Rev. W. M. Rush.

Few men suffered earlier, or more, than the subject of this notice. For many years the name of the Rev. W. M. Rush has been conspicuous on the rolls of Missouri Methodism. Prominent amongst her ablest and truest ministers and foremost in her aggressive evangelism, he has stood through many years of her history. Identified with her early struggles and a faithful laborer upon her broad foundations, he has grown with her growth and strengthened with her strength, until his life and her history are one. Few men have been more conspicuous in her councils or more distinguished in her fields of labor and conflict. The class-mate of Marvin, the senior and compeer of Caples, the companion of Monroe, and Jordan, and Smith, and Eads, and Johnson, and Redman, and the noble band of Methodist pioneers and patriots, his name will adorn the early annals of the Church, as it will illustrate her later persecutions.

Mr. Rush does not care to conceal the fact that he is a native of Missouri. He was converted to God July 8th, 1838, and united with the Methodist Church the following August. He was licensed to preach in Sept., 1841, and was admitted on trial in the Conference the following October, at Palmyra, Bishop Morris presiding and W. W. Redman acting as Secretary. He has ever been, since that date, an effective itinerant preacher—never sustained any other relation to the Conference.

While traveling the Brunswick district, in 1856, and by the advice of Bishop Pierce, he made arrangements to settle his family in a permanent home, and selected Chillicothe, Livingston county, as the most central and suitable location. He purchased eligible lots, with land adjoining the town, and erected an excellent and commodious residence for his large family. He also improved, furnished and stocked his adjoining lands to make them productive. Here he settled his family and remained until 1860, when he was appointed to St. Joseph station, and it became necessary for him to lease out his property in Chillicothe and move his family to St. Joseph, where he was living when the war broke out in 1861. He was deeply impressed with the necessity of caution and prudence in the conduct of his pulpit and public services, as the people to whom he ministered were divided on the questions at issue in the war. He was so careful not to give offense to any that he framed a somewhat formal prayer to be used in public services touching the troubles of the country.

It was about as follows: “O Thou, who art infinite in wisdom, in goodness and in power, we pray thee so to direct in the affairs of this country, that the events that are now transpiring may all result for thy glory and the well-being of humanity. We pray that those in authority may have wisdom to direct them in adopting such measures as shall be promotive of the best interests of all the people.”

To this form of prayer and the sentiments it contained he thought all good citizens of either party could say, Amen. He carefully abstained from every expression that would be offensive to the sectional feelings and views of any of his congregation. In this he was particular, and, he thought, successful. Matters passed on well enough until early in February, 1862, when, after preaching on Sabbath, he called on the Rev. W. C. Toole, a local preacher, to close the service with prayer. He was a strong partisan, and his language in the prayer was extremely bitter toward those in rebellion against the Government. Though the congregation was much divided in sentiment, they were at peace among themselves. This prayer was like a firebrand. It excited a good deal of feeling, and people of opposite views thought it much out of place. Upon reflection and consultation with his leading brethren, he determined thereafter to close his own services with prayer, which ministers should always do unless other ministers are present and in the pulpit. He pursued this course but one Sabbath afterward, and then a brother minister, the Rev. S. W. Cope, preached for him, when, during the week following, Brigadier-General B. F. Loan, then in command, sent for Mr. Rush to report himself at his headquarters. This he did, and Gen. Loan told him that he had concluded to close his church. Mr. Rush asked him on what account. He replied, “Because of disloyalty.” He was then asked in what respects they were disloyal, and answered that he was informed that a prayer for the Government could not be offered in that church without giving offense.

The whole matter of the prayer of Mr. Toole and the general character of the service were then explained to Gen. Loan. Mr. Rush was careful to give the reasons for avoiding the introduction of anything savoring of sectional views into the public service; that they could not settle the troubles of the country in the church service; that such an effort would only destroy the peace of the church without in the least benefiting the country; that no prayer savoring of secession had ever been offered in the church or would be tolerated on any account; that the course pursued was the only proper one; and that if all the churches in the land would attend to their appropriate work and let politics alone it would be far better for the country. To all of this the General replied that the time had come when there must be a distinction in the churches between patriots and traitors. Mr. Rush told him that he could not discriminate in his church on account of political opinions; that he had been in the ministry more than twenty-five years, and in all that time he had not in a single instance, in prayer or sermon, given utterance to a word or sentence by which his opinions could be known upon any political questions at issue before the country, and that he did not expect in the future to depart from that course. He replied that his mind was made up to close the church. The interview ended, and the church was closed.

Soon afterward the General directed a special order to be issued forbidding Mr. Rush from preaching or conducting any kind of religious service within the bounds of his military district. Thus he was silenced—deposed from the ministry, and his ordination credentials revoked by a military satrap. An ambassador for God stricken down by one stroke of a pen to which bayonets imparted power! A messenger of salvation to dying men silenced by the caprice of shoulder-straps, and one to whom the risen Messiah by his spirit said, “Go into all the world and preach the gospel to every creature,” suspended from his divine commission by the decree of human power! A “legate of the skies” at the feet of a miserable specimen of human weakness clothed with a little brief authority! Impious presumption! equaled only by sacrilegious contumely and prurient vanity.

After Gen. Loan was dismissed from the military service by Gov. Gamble, and Gen. W. P. Hall had succeeded him in command of the district, Mr. Rush addressed a note to Gen. Hall, calling his attention to the order of Gen. Loan, and asking its revocation. Mr. Rush hoped for much consideration at the hands of Gen. Hall from a somewhat intimate acquaintance of sixteen years, and the further fact that at the beginning of the troubles their views were in perfect harmony. He had no doubt whatever but that the silencing order of Gen. Loan would at once be revoked. But for once he had mistaken the man. Mr. R. did not then properly estimate the power of the German Radicals of the district nor the ambition of Gen. Hall—the necessity for him to manufacture a character for extreme loyalty, in doing which he would sacrifice any man or any principle that stood in the way of his personal promotion.

Gen. Hall not only refused to revoke the order of Gen. Loan, but published in the St. Joseph Herald, a paper that circulated extensively in the military camps, his letter to Mr. Rush, in which the latter was denounced as a traitor and unworthy the protection of the Government. While Gen. Loan, in his personal intercourse with Mr. Rush, was courteous and gentlemanly, Gen. Hall was abusive, ungentlemanly and tyrannical. His published letter unveiled his true character, while it subjected its helpless victim to suspicion, insult and attempts at brutal assassination.

Mr. Rush, in the midst of such trials and dangers, had to give up his charge and return to Chillicothe. Here he found his beautiful home laid waste; the fencing destroyed, the house broken up, horses stabled in three rooms on the first floor, and soldiers quartered on the second floor, and the fruit and shrubbery all destroyed.

He rented a house for his family, and while the officers of the post always treated him with courtesy and kindness, Gen. Hall’s letter had stirred up the common soldiery until his life and the lives of his family were in constant peril. When he discovered this state of things, he wrote Gen. Hall a polite letter, protesting against his published letter, representing the injustice he had done him, and the danger to his person and life caused by it. Gen. Hall returned his letter, and in reply threatened him with a military commission.

About the 1st of May, 1863, a bold attempt was made to assassinate him in his own house. His house was first assailed with stones and brick-bats, by which the windows were crushed in and the door battered. Pistol shots were then fired through the doors and windows; but a kind Providence protected him and his family from serious injury.

Upon reporting the facts to the officers in command, protection was promptly furnished, and a guard stationed at the house. But, at the same time, the officers advised him to seek safety elsewhere; that with all their efforts to protect him the assassin’s missile might any moment put an end to his life.

The week after this occurrence he went to St. Louis to attend the sessions of the Grand Masonic bodies of the State. These grand bodies gave to his ministerial and personal character their highest endorsement, by electing him Grand Chaplain of the Grand Lodge, also of the Grand Chapter, and also of the Convention of High Priests for the State of Missouri.

The following is the written order which Gen. Loan directed Col. King, his subordinate, to issue deposing Mr. Rush from the functions of the ministry in his military district:

“Dear Sir—I am directed by the Brigadier-General commanding the district to notify you that it is deemed advisable and necessary to suspend you from the performance of your duties as a minister, or preacher, within this military district, so far as they relate to any of the public services in the church. This will, you observe, include all preaching, the conducting of prayer meetings, &c., &c. Of said suspension you are hereby notified.

“This, I will add, results from information, deemed entirely reliable, of your disloyal sentiments, and of your very great desire to actively promote the cause of the traitors.

“I am, sir, very respectfully,

Mr. Rush had been prohibited by verbal order from preaching in St. Joseph. After he left St. Joseph he preached once in Plattsburg and once in Chillicothe, whereupon General Loan ordered Colonel King to issue the above order. It was this order which Mr. Rush requested Gen. Hall to revoke.

The reply to the letter asking the revocation of Gen. Loan’s order, besides being published, was sent as a private note also, and is as follows:

“My Dear Sir—I am in receipt of yours of the 16th inst. I regret that I am not able to comply with your request. According to my views, a religious congregation that can not endure prayers for its Government is disloyal; and a minister that encourages such a congregation in its course is also disloyal.

“I agree with you, that allegiance and protection are reciprocal. But allegiance requires the citizen to protect the Government against all enemies. This you not only refuse to do, but you are not willing to pray for the success of your Government over traitors. You claim to be neutral. A citizen has no right to be neutral when enemies are assailing his Government.

“I can not relieve you from Gen. Loan’s order.

The following letter was written to General Hall after Mr. Rush had suffered long and much from the effects of his published letter. It explains itself:

“Dear Sir: Some months ago I requested you to relieve me from Gen. Loan’s order. This you declined to do, and at the same time (unintentionally, I hope,) inflicted upon me a severe injury. Your letter was published in the Herald, and was made the basis of various actions against me. Dr. Hughs, who classified those who were exempt from military duty as loyal and disloyal, enrolled me disloyal. I asked him on what ground he so enrolled me, and told him that I claimed to be as loyal as any man in the Government, and that I challenged any man to show the contrary. He told me that he acted upon your letter and did not feel himself authorized to go behind it. He assigned no other reason. Dr. Hughs, you may know, is an extreme Radical man.

“On the 1st of January Capt. Moore, Provost-Marshal of this post, gave what are called free passes to my negro woman and girl, and they are now in Kansas. I called on him to know on what ground he based his action. He said he concluded from your letter that I was rebellious, and, therefore, gave the passes without any charge or proof.

“On the first Monday of April, at our municipal election, my vote was challenged by a Lieutenant from St. Joseph, I believe. I asked on what ground. He said my name was on the disloyal list. I told him I did not put it there. Capt. Moore said it was put there by order of Gen. Loan.

“Such are some of the open effects of your published letter, and, as a lawyer, you doubtless know the extent of your legal responsibility for such publication.

“In your published letter to me you regarded me as disloyal because, as you say, I encouraged a congregation that could not endure prayers for its Government. If by the Government you mean the country and the Constitution, I beg to inform you that prayers are regularly offered for the country, in the public congregation as well as in my private family; and in private I pray to Him who is infinite in wisdom, in goodness and in power, that he would so direct in the affairs of the nation, and so control the events that are now transpiring as that all things might yet result for his glory and the well-being of humanity; that he would grant unto our rulers wisdom to adopt such measures as would speedily bring peace and prosperity to our distracted country.

“If by the Government you mean the measures of the Administration, I must say that I do not pray for the success of the President’s Proclamation liberating the slaves of the South.

“Since these troubles began, I have claimed to be, and I believe I am, as loyal a man as there is in the country, and the Constitution does not permit you, nor any body of men, to prescribe a form of prayer as a test of my loyalty. Since the commencement of these troubles I have been a man of peace. I believed that war would be disastrous to the country, and that if persevered in it would tear down the fair fabric which my fathers helped to rear, and that my children would be left without a country.

“Sir, I boast not of family, but an ancestral name stands on the Declaration of Independence, and the family has represented the Government at Paris and at London. Sir, I can pray for peace, but I can not pray for war. I never in public or in private prayed for the success of the sword as wielded by any power on earth.

“What was my offense? I labored to preserve the peace of my congregation. I thought that the Church was not the proper arena for the strife of those contending opinions that were convulsing the nation.

“Why did not Colhoun and Lyon of the Presbyterian Church offer such prayers as that offered by W. C. Toole? I will answer. They had too high a sense of religious propriety. Sir, political preaching has sown the seeds that are bringing forth the death of the nation. In more than twenty years in the ministry I have never given utterance to a political sentiment in the pulpit. But now these political preachers are heroes, and I am without a pulpit.

“You have, also, published to the world that I have no claim upon the Government for protection. Thus I am published by you as an outlaw, to be slain by any one who may be so disposed. And this, notwithstanding I have constantly performed every duty enjoined upon me by the Constitution and laws of the country.

“On last Wednesday evening, just at dark, my son William, while feeding, was shot at by some one who had secreted himself but a few yards from him. The bullet entered his cap just over his forehead and passed out behind. An inch lower would have killed him. The shot was, no doubt, intended for me.

“When I wrote to you before, I did it that you might make your own record in my case. You had the opportunity of revoking Gen. Loan’s order or of sustaining it. You saw proper to exceed very much the order of Gen. Loan.

“One word more. I had a financial interest of $1200 a year in my pulpit so long as my pastoral relation to the Church should continue. That relation still continues, but my financial interest in the pulpit has been confiscated, without the authority of law and contrary to a general order issued by the General commanding the department. I am advised by eminent legal counsel that yourself and General Loan are financially responsible to me.

“General, I have thus written to you candidly, as I think a man of conscious integrity has a right to write to one to whom he is willing to accord equal integrity. If you think that order should still remain in force, so let it be.

To this letter General Hall made the following reply:

“Sir—I return herewith your very extraordinary letter of the 30th ult. Notwithstanding the threats contained in it against myself, you surely did not consider what you were writing. My opinion was, and is, that it would do a serious injury to the public for me to rescind Gen. Loan’s order with reference to yourself. To threaten an officer for the discharge of his duties, especially in times like these, is a serious offense, which a Military Commission would promptly punish. I bear you no malice. I have done what I have done in your case because I believed my duty required it. My advice to you is, to make no more threats.

Neither explanation nor comment is necessary to the full meaning of this instance of heartless cruelty and wanton oppression. The fact that General Hall’s mother-in-law, with whom he lived, was at the time one of the most devoted, pious and prominent members of Mr. Rush’s Church, only shades the deeper and darker the character of this Missouri Nero.

General Hall’s skepticism and political ambition made him a ready and a cruel instrument of religious persecution. Without the moral courage to avow his skepticism, and denied the force of character necessary to meet and master opposition, he was just the man to use the authority of shoulder-straps to make war upon the institutions of heaven and persecute God’s chosen ministers of salvation; and he will feel very uncomfortable in the history he has made.

Mr. Rush found it necessary for his own safety to remove his family to St. Louis, and remain there until the close of the war. He found the Mound Church without a pastor, and by the appointment of the Presiding Elder took charge of that Church, and there remained until the quiet and safety that succeeded the war was restored to the State. Mr. Rush will appear again as a victim of the New Constitution, and a noble champion of the liberty of conscience and the supremacy of Christ in his Church, which the infidel provisions of that instrument endeavored to strike down.

It will be appropriate to close this chapter with an account of the murder of the

Rev. Nathaniel Wollard,

A minister of the Calvinistic, or, as generally termed, “Hard-Shell” Baptist Church.

Elder Wollard, or “Uncle Natty,” as he was familiarly called, was an aged man, in his seventy-second year. He had lived a long time in Dallas county, Mo., where he was extensively known and very highly appreciated as a true man, a good neighbor, a kind father, an affectionate husband, a peaceable citizen and an acceptable minister—highly esteemed in love by his denomination for his character and work. He could not, nor did he desire to, take any part in the strifes, excitements and dangers of the war. He craved the boon of living at home unmolested, and spending the evening of his life in peace in the bosom of his family.

He had grown up in the olden times, and under the old regime, when men were outspoken, candid and fearless in the utterance of their sentiments; and, hence, be expressed himself in opposition to the “abolitionists,” as he called the Union men, and in sympathy with the South. He did not make himself officious or offensive in the expression of his Southern sympathies. He was not a secessionist per se, but a Southern man, deeply impressed with the conviction that the Northern fanatics intended to break up the Government and destroy the foundations of republican liberty. He honestly believed that the success of the South in the struggle would vindicate the wisdom of the fathers of the Republic, and establish firmly and forever the vital principles of civil and religious liberty for which “Washington fought and freemen died.”

The fact that he entertained such sentiments, however prudent and cautious in their utterance, “was sufficient to call forth the vengeful feelings and murderous purposes of the militia of this State.”

A detailed account of his murder has been furnished by one acquainted with all the facts, in the following language:

“The murder was committed on the evening of Sept. 1, 1863—that dark and bloody year. A cheerful fire had been made in his sitting room, and he was peacefully enjoying an evening with his family, all unconscious of the approach of danger—not dreaming that his peace would so soon be disturbed, or that his long life was so near its end. While thus in domestic tranquillity, and unconscious of danger, a squad of militia scouts rode up to the door, dismounted and walked in without any ceremony. They addressed the old man in a very rough manner, ordering him out of his house, as they wished to speak with him. Father Wollard told them that they could talk to him where he was; that he was not going to leave his house.

“The intention of the militia was evidently to get him out of his house, feign that he made an effort to escape, and shoot him. If this was their intention they were defeated by the fact that Father Wollard supposed that if he left the house, one or two men would guard him and his family while the rest of them would pillage and then burn the house.

“When they found that they could not get him out of the house, one of the militia raised his pistol and shot him, the ball taking effect in the face and inflicting a mortal wound. He was removed from the house into the yard and laid on a bed prepared for him, his head resting on the bosom of his heart-broken companion, while his son, a youth of sixteen, was wiping the blood from his face, and keeping it from his mouth, as it flowed so freely from the wound that he feared it would strangle his father. In the meantime the militia had set the house on fire and committed everything they had to the flames.

“Having finished their work of destruction, one of them came to where the dying old man was lying, and, finding that he was not yet dead, shot him again, the ball taking effect in his forehead. He instantly expired.

“The only charge they made against him was that he fed ‘bushwhackers,’ which was not true. He had fed Southern and Federal soldiers alike when they came to his house, and some of these very men had been recently fed at his table who now turned upon him and brutally and barbarously murdered him.

“The men who committed this fatal and foul deed belonged to Capt. Morgan Kelly’s company of militia. They were never punished, but are now living in Dallas county undisturbed, except by an accusing conscience. Capt. Kelly himself professes to be a minister of the gospel, of the Christian, or Campbellite, Church, yet he seems to live in peace, with this and many other crimes staring him in the face.”

The heart sickens at such a recital of cold-blooded murder; and the evidence of savage, not to say inhuman, barbarity that characterized the horrible crime is sufficient to humiliate the whole race of men and send our much vaunted Christian civilization reeling back into the dark ages. The shadow on the dial of Ahaz went back ten degrees—it was a wonderful miracle—but here, in the noon of the nineteenth century, the shadow on the dial of human progress and Christian civilization has gone down forty degrees without a miracle, and reaches the grosser, the darker and the baser passions of our fallen nature, which instigate and then execute deeds of horror at which all Christendom revolts.