Something of Men I Have Known Part 28

It so fell out that our candidate for Congress at the time mentioned was quietly threading his way on horseback to meet his appointment.

Far out from the county seat, in a wild and spa.r.s.ely populated locality, at a sudden turn in the road he found himself in the immediate presence of a wors.h.i.+pping congregation in G.o.d's first temple. It was what is known in mountain parlance as a "protracted meeting." The hour was noon, and the little flock had just been called from labor to refreshment. The cloth was spread in the shade of a large tree, and liberally supplied with ham, fried chicken, salt-rising bread, corn dodgers, cuc.u.mber pickles, and other wholesome edibles. When Vance appeared upon the scene, the leader of the little flock at once greeted him with cordial invitation to "light and take a bite with us." The candidate accepted the invitation, and fastening his horse to a convenient tree, approached the a.s.sembled wors.h.i.+ppers, introducing himself as "Zeb Vance, Whig candidate for Congress." The thought uppermost in his soul as he shook hands all around and accepted the proffered hospitality was, "What denomination is this? Methodist? Baptist?

_What?"_ As soon as this inquiry could be satisfactorily answered, he was, of course, ready to join; his "letter" was ready to be handed in. But as he quickly scanned the faces about him, he could get no gleam of light upon the all-important question. Suddenly his meditations were ended, the abstract giving way to the concrete, by the aforementioned leader abruptly inquiring, "Mr. Vance, what persuasion are you of?"

The hour had struck. The dreaded inquiry must be answered satisfactorily _and at once._ That Vance was equal to the emergency will be seen from the sequel.

Promptly laying down the chicken leg, the chunk of salt-rising bread, and cuc.u.mber pickle with which he had been abundantly supplied by one of the dear old sisters, and a.s.suming an appropriate oratorical pose, with his eyes intent upon his interrogator, he began:

"My sainted grandfather was, during the later years of his long and useful life, a ruling elder in the Presbyterian Church."

The gathering brow and shaking head of the local shepherd would even to a less observing man than the candidate have been sufficient warning that he was on the wrong trail. "But," continued the speaker, "my father during long years of faithful service in the Master's cause was an equally devout member of the Methodist Episcopalian Church."

The sombre aspect of the shepherd, with the no less significant shake of the head, was unmistakable intimation to our candidate that danger was in the very air. Rallying himself, however, for the last charge, with but one remaining shot in his locker, the orator earnestly resumed: "But, when _I_ came to the years of maturity, and was able, after prayer and meditation, to read and understand that blessed book myself, I came to the conclusion _that the old Baptist Church was right."_

"Bless G.o.d!" exclaimed the old preacher, seizing Vance by the hand.

"He is all right, brethren! Oh, you'll get all the votes in these parts, Brother Vance!"

Talking along religious lines at the time of the visit mentioned, he ill.u.s.trated the difference between profession and practice. "Now, there is my brother Bob," referring to General Robert B. Vance; "he is, you know, a Methodist, and believes in falling from grace, _but he never falls,_ while I am a Presbyterian, and don't believe in falling from grace, _but I am always falling!"_

The first wife of Senator Vance was a Presbyterian. Some years after her death, he was married to an excellent lady, a devoted member of the Roman Catholic Church. Soon thereafter, he was taken to task by an old Presbyterian neighbor, who expressed great surprise that he should marry a Catholic. "Well," replied the Senator with imperturbably good humor, "the fact is, Uncle John, as I had tried Rum, and tried Rebellion, I just thought I would try Romanism too!"

Many years ago, near the western border of Buncombe County, lived an old negro who had in early life been a member of the family of the father of Senator Vance. In a little cabin at the foot of the mountain, "Uncle Ephraim," as the old negro was familiarly called, was, as he had been for two or three decades, "living on borrowed time."

How old he was no man could tell. When in confidential mood, he would sometimes tell of the troubles he and his old master used to have with the Tories during the Revolutionary War.

Mr. Vance, in his first race for Congress, having finished his speech at the cross-roads near by, visited the old man, from whom, of course, he received a warm welcome. In reply to the inquiry of his visitor as to how he was getting along, the old negro slowly replied:

"Mighty po'ly, mighty po'ly, Mause Zeb, mighty po'ly forninst the things of dis world, but it's all right over yander, over yander."

"What church do you belong to, Uncle Ephraim?" said Vance.

"Well, Mause Zeb, I's a Presbyterian."

"Uncle Ephraim," said Vance with great solemnity, "do you believe in the doctrine of _election?"_

After a pause and with equal solemnity, the old man responded: "Mause Zeb, I don't pertend to understand fully the ins and outs of dat doctrine, but 'cordin' to my understandin', it's de doctrine of de Bible, and I bleebes it."

"Uncle Ephraim," said Vance, "do you think I have been _elected?"_

"Mause Zeb," said the old man in pathetic tone, "ef it's jest de same to you, I would a leetle ruther you would wifdraw dat question.

I's poorty ole and gittn' a little too near de grabe to tell a lie, but de fac am, I bin livin' round in dese parts nigh onto a hundred years and knowed a heap of de big mens dat's dead and gone, and I neber yet knowed nor hear tell of no man bein' 'lected, _what wan't a candidate."_

Like many other orators of his party, Senator Vance found the position of champion of the Democratic nominee for President in 1872 one of extreme embarra.s.sment. A story he occasionally told, however, relieved the situation greatly. He said: "My fellow-citizens, I am somewhat in the position of an old-time illiterate backwoods preacher, who was with great difficulty able to read off, after a fas.h.i.+on, one favorite hymn at which his book always opened at the opportune moment. One Sunday morning, just before the beginning of the services, some mischievous boys, not having the fear of the Lord before their eyes, got hold of the book and pasted 'Old Grimes' over the favorite hymn. At the auspicious moment the book opened at the accustomed place, and the old preacher, after properly adjusting his gla.s.ses, slowly began: 'Old Grimes is dead, that good old man.' Amazed beyond description, the preacher instantly suspended the reading, carefully wiped off his gla.s.ses, looked appealingly to the congregation, and again solemnly and slowly began: 'Old Grimes is dead, that good old man.' The congregation now equally astonished with himself, the aged pastor suspended the reading, carefully removed his gla.s.ses, and laying down the book, solemnly observed: 'My beloved friends, I have been a-readin'

and a-singin' outen this blessed book for nigh onto forty year, and I never seed this hymn in thar before; but it's _in thar,_ brethren, and we'll sing it through if it smashes up this meetin!'

"Now," continued Vance, "my beloved brethren, I have been a-readin'

and a-votin' of the Democrat ticket nigh onto forty year, and I never seed the name of old Horace Greeley on a Democrat ticket before; but it's _on thar,_ brethren, and we'll vote it through if it kills us--_and it does come devilish near killing the most of us!"_

XXVII NOT GUILTY OF PREACHING THE GOSPEL

THE "DRAKE CONSt.i.tUTION" IN MISSOURI--THE CRIME OF PREACHING THE GOSPEL--A PROVISION OF THIS CONSt.i.tUTION FOUND TO BE A VIOLATION OF THE CONSt.i.tUTION OF THE UNITED STATES--MINISTERS OF VARIOUS SECTS TRIED FOR PREACHING WITHOUT FIRST TAKING AN OATH TO SUPPORT THE "DRAKE CONSt.i.tUTION"--THE JUDGE FINDS THAT NOT ONE OF THEM HAS PREACHED THE GOSPEL.

The "holding" of a _nisi prius_ judge upon one of the western circuits of Missouri, near the close of the Civil War, is without a precedent, and it is quite probable that no occasion will ever arise for citing it as an authority. It will remain, however, a case in point of how a "horse-sense" judge can protect the innocent against unusual and unjust prosecution.

What is known in Missouri history as the "Drake Const.i.tution"

had then but recently supplanted the organic law under which the State had for a long time had its being. No counterpart of the Const.i.tution mentioned has ever been framed in any of the American States. It could have been only the product of the evil days when "judgment had fled to brutish beasts, and men had lost their reason."

Possibly at no time or place in our history has there been more emphatic verification of the axiom, "In the midst of arms, the laws are silent."

The "Drake Const.i.tution" was formulated at a time when fierce pa.s.sion was at its height, when the sad consequences of civil war were felt at every fireside, when neighbor was arrayed against neighbor, the hand of brother uplifted against brother, and "a man's foes were they of his own household." As is well known, certain provisions of this Const.i.tution were, at a later day--upon a writ of error--set aside by the Supreme Court of the United States as being in violation of the Federal Const.i.tution. One of the thirty distinct affirmations or tests of the Drake Const.i.tution was to the effect that, if any minister or priest should be guilty of the crime of preaching the Gospel, or of solemnizing the rite of marriage, without first having taken an oath to support said Const.i.tution, he should, upon conviction, be subjected to a fine of not less than five hundred dollars, imprisonment for six months in the common jail, or both.

Under the provision indicated, a Catholic priest was convicted in one of the circuit courts of Missouri, and duly sentenced to fine and imprisonment. Upon his appeal, the Supreme Court of the United States reversed the decision of the lower court, and virtually abrogated the provision of the Const.i.tution under which the accused had been convicted. The great court of last resort decided the test oath, imposed as above mentioned, to be a violation of that provision of the Const.i.tution of the United States which declares, "No State shall pa.s.s any bill of attainder, or _ex post facto_ law." It held a bill of attainder to be "a legislative act which inflicts punishment without a judicial trial"; and an _ex post facto_ law "one which imposes a punishment for an act which was not punishable at the time it was committed; or imposes additional punishment to that then prescribed." The court said: "The oath thus required is, for its severity, without any precedent that we can discover. In the first place, it is retrospective; it embraces all the past from this day; and if taken years hence, it will also cover all the intervening period. . . . It allows no distinction between acts springing from malignant enmity, and acts which may have been prompted by charity, or affection, or relations.h.i.+p.

. . . The clauses in question subvert the presumption of innocence, and alter the rules of evidence which heretofore, under the universally recognized principles of the common law, have been supposed to be fundamental and unchangeable. They a.s.sume that the parties are guilty; they call upon the parties to establish their innocence; and declare that such innocence can only be shown in one way--by an inquisition in the form of an expurgatory oath into the consciences of the parties." And then, as preliminary to the discharge of the priest from long imprisonment, the court concluded its opinion with a pertinent question from the writings of Alexander Hamilton: "It subst.i.tutes for the established and legal mode of investigating crimes and inflicting forfeitures, one that is unknown to the Const.i.tution, and repugnant to the genius of our law."*

[*Footnote: Fourth Wallace Reports.]

During the period extending from the promulgation of the Drake Const.i.tution to the setting aside of some of its obnoxious provisions as heretofore mentioned, an old-time judge still held court on one of the Missouri circuits. He had somehow been overlooked in the political upheaval to which the State had been subjected. He had come down from a former generation, and, unabashed by the clash of arms, still served st.u.r.dily on his wonted way. The rife spirit that boded destruction to ancient landmarks had pa.s.sed him by; Magna Charta and the Bill of Rights were to him abiding verities.

Now it so fell out that during the period mentioned, while presiding in one of the border counties of his circuit, he was greatly astonished, at the opening of his court upon a certain morning, to find half a dozen ministers of the Gospel, all of whom were personally known to him, snugly seated in the prisoners' box.

With characteristic brusqueness, the judge at once demanded of the attorney for the Commonwealth why these men were under arrest.

The not unexpected reply was, that they had been indicted for preaching without first taking an oath to support the Const.i.tution of the State of Missouri.

"Ah, Mr. Prosecutor, a very serious offence, a very serious offence indeed. The makers of our fundamental law have wisely provided that no man shall be permitted to preach the Gospel until he has first taken an oath to support the Const.i.tution of the State of Missouri. It is the duty of this court to see to it that this wholesome provision of our Const.i.tution is duly enforced."

Addressing himself now to the prisoner nearest him, His Honor inquired: "Is it possible, sir, that you have been guilty of the crime of preaching the Gospel without having first taken an oath to support the Const.i.tution of the State of Missouri?" The prisoner, a tall, venerable-appearing gentleman, in typical black, quietly replied that he could not conscientiously take the required oath, but had only continued in the pastoral work in which he had been for a lifetime engaged.

"A mere subterfuge, a mere subterfuge, Mr. Prosecutor," observed the judge, as with apparent fierceness his eyes were fixed upon the offender. "This prisoner cannot be permitted, sir, to interpose his conscience as a barrier against the enforcement of this salutary provision of our most excellent Const.i.tution. He must be punished, sir, he must be punished."

After reading aloud the penalty imposed for the commission of the offence mentioned, and with pen in hand as if about to make the appropriate entry upon the docket, His Honor again turned to the prisoner and inquired:

"Of what church are you a minister?" The steady reply, as of one prepared for the worst, was,

"I am a Presbyterian, Your Honor."

"Presbyterian! Presbyterian!" quickly observed the sage interpreter of the law. "Oh, you preach the tenets and doctrines of the Presbyterian Church, do you?" An affirmative reply was modestly given.

"You preach," continued His Honor in apparent amazement, "the doctrine of infant baptism, and of the final perseverance of the saints, do you?" An answer like the last being given, the judge remarked:

"You appear to be a man of intelligence, but don't you know, sir, that _that_ isn't the Gospel? He has not been guilty of preaching the Gospel, Mr. Prosecutor, _and will have to be discharged._ You can go, sir, but if this court ever hears that you have been actually guilty of preaching _the Gospel,_ you will be punished to the full extent of the law."

Addressing himself now to the comparatively youthful occupant of the lately vacated seat, His Honor inquired:

"What is _your_ church, sir?"

In a manner by no means aggressive, and with tones the counterpart of the humblest that ever came from an Amen corner, the reply was,

"I am a Methodist, may it please the Court."

Eying the prisoner keenly, and with a manner expressive of surprise to which all that had gone before seemed indifference itself, his Honor, with apparent difficulty, at length e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed: