CHAPTER 1

Missouri Almanac

“Feminine Support”(Missouri State Archives, Putman Collection)

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Missouri State Capitol, c1860s.(Missouri State Archives)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 13

Political cynics charge thatelections do not mean verymuch. The more things change,the more they stay the same.“Here comes the new boss, sameas the old boss,” the rock band,The Who sang in their 1971song, “Won’t Get Fooled Again.”Today, the cynicism among theyoung, has, if anything, gottenworse. The National Youth Sur-vey recently reported that half ofall young people they questionedthought voting unimportant.

Familiarity with history showsthe contrary. Elections do mat-ter. For good or ill, yesterday’selections shape today, andtoday’s elections shape ourtomorrow. That does not meanthat elections are not ironic, oreven tragic. In Missouri’s firststatehood election famed ex-plorer, Indian agent, and back-woodsman, William Clark, wentdown to inglorious defeat as the“aristocratic” candidate of theold French and colonial elite.His equally “aristocratic” ally,Thomas Hart Benton, narrowlywon election to the Senate onlyto emerge as one of America’sgreatest spokesmen for Jackson-ian democracy and the commonyeoman farmer. In 1860Claiborne Fox Jackson won theMissouri governorship with

hopes of aligning the state withsouthern slaveholders, but diedin an Arkansas exile, his stateself-destructing in vicious gue-rilla warfare.

People make history, but notalways as they choose. Even so,things can be changed, and forthe better when people take themaking of history into theirhands. Progressive governors likeDemocrat Joseph Folk and Re-publican Herbert Hadley effec-tively challenged the common-place political corruption of theearly twentieth century. The 1945Missouri constitution, forged inworld war and informed by thebleak reality of economic de-pression, still determines thecharacter of our state’s politicstoday.

In the following essays—twofrom the nineteenth century,two from the twentieth—fourMissouri historians use the1820, 1860, and 1904 gover-norship elections; and the refer-endum on the 1945 constitutionto illuminate our past, teach ushow these past choices madeour present; and inspire us howwe might, through the exampleof our ancestors and forerun-ners, make in our own day, abetter tomorrow.

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William E. Foley

Contemporary Missourians put off by thenasty and accusatory tone of many modern polit-ical campaigns may find solace if not comfort inknowing that such practices are not unique to ourown times. No less an American icon thanWilliam Clark, the celebrated coleader of theLewis and Clark expedition and Missouri’s mostsuccessful territorial governor, had to endure abarrage of exaggerated and ill-founded allega-tions during his failed attempt to become the stateof Missouri’s first elected governor in 1820. Whenthe illustrious westerner’s political opponentsspread tales characterizing him as a snobbish aris-tocrat with little sympathy for plain folk as well asan Indian lover willing to subject exposed frontiersettlers to devastation at the hands of ruthless sav-ages, they found a ready audience among thenewly arrived farmers and mechanics whose bur-geoning numbers had made Missouri’s pendingadmission to the Union possible.

In truth, the partisan words and rhetoricalflourishes uttered on the stump and circulated inlocal newspapers during this campaign weremerely surface manifestations of Missouri’schanging social and political climate. A combat-ive new brand of popular democracy groundedon a belief that the most ordinary of men couldaspire to greatness had already begun to takehold in Missouri. A companion view that Indiansstood in the way of settlement and progress hadsupplanted earlier more tolerant notions aboutnative people prevalent under the colonialregimes of France and Spain. These new ideas,epitomized in the popular imagination by therising fortunes of Clark’s friend Andrew Jackson,drew strength from “Old Hickory’s” image as aself-made, tough-as-nails, soldier, Indian fighter,and politician eager to champion the people’sinterests. While Clark too was a soldier, Indianfighter and public servant, his patrician upbring-ing, unwavering loyalty to friends, preference forold republican principles, and reputation as afair-minded Indian negotiator landed him on thewrong side of the political divide in 1820.

Missouri politics had never been a place forthe fainthearted. Name-calling, threats of bodilyharm, and allegations of military interference werecommonplace in the territory’s highly charged and

intensely personal political culture. An attempt tochallenge the rising political newcomer ThomasHart Benton’s eligibility to vote in a hotly contest-ed 1817 territorial election culminated with a trag-ic affair of honor that left the promising youngattorney Charles Lucas dead by Benton’s hand onBloody Island, a notorious Mississippi River duel-ing ground near St. Louis. Election day antics sel-dom degenerated into mortal combat, but partisansquabbles had become the order of the day in theturbulent Missouri Territory.

Missouri’s long and arduous struggle for state-hood added to the muddle. The territorial assem-bly’s 1818 petition to Congress seeking admissionto the union as a slave state unleashed a heatednational debate that in the words of former presi-dent Thomas Jefferson sounded an alarm “like afirebell in the night.” Congressional efforts toimpose restrictions designed to gradually elimi-nate slavery from Missouri caught most territorialresidents unawares. Angered by what they per-ceived to be unwarranted federal intervention intheir affairs, they rallied to voice their unalterableobjection to all such restrictionist proposals.

Eventually the chieftans in Washington, D.C.hammered out an agreement aimed at reconcil-ing national divisions over slavery while sustain-ing the Union. Missourians (with the obviousexception of the territory’s ten thousand AfricanAmerican slaves who were never allowed toexpress themselves publicly on such matters)proclaimed their satisfaction with the final settle-

“William Clark by Charles Willson Peale, From Life,1807–1808.” (Independence National Historical Park)

dered his family’s future. The prospect of raisingalone five children all under the age of elevengave him pause. But when his political alliesfailed to find a suitable alternate, even as theprospects for his wife’s recovery dimmed, heconsented to allow his candidacy to proceed.Shortly thereafter Clark set out for Virginia, wherehe had placed Julia and their children under thewatchful care of her family. He did not return toMissouri until the fall, and by then the votes hadbeen counted and his political future sealed.

When Governor Clark officially threw his hatinto the ring he advised his constituents that per-sonal circumstances would keep him away fromthe state during the campaign. He hastened toadd that his absence would be of little importsince the election was the people’s business andeven if he were present he would steer clear ofany direct involvement. This view, fully comport-

ment because it authorized Missouri’s admissionto the Union as a slave state. That 1820 agree-ment, known as the Missouri Compromise, alsosanctioned Maine’s admission as a free state as acounterbalance to Missouri and closed to slaveryall remaining portions of the Louisiana Territorynorth of Missouri’s southern latitude (36° 30’).

Following receipt of this welcome news,Missouri officials wasted little time in schedulingelections to select delegates for a constitutionalconvention charged with drafting a framework ofgovernment for the soon-to-be twenty-fourthstate. In the contest for convention seats, mem-bers of the territorial old guard skillfully held atbay the newcomers intent on making the electiona referendum on broadening participation in thepolitical process. By keeping public attentionfocused on the specter of slavery restriction, theold elite persuaded a majority of Missouri votersto play it safe by selecting prominent proslaveryproperty holders to write their constitution.

That momentary victory had by no meansended the opposition. When the convention’sproceedings got underway the old divides quick-ly resurfaced. A conservative coalition represent-ing the territorial establishment successfully fend-ed off a series of newfangled democratic reformproposals. Dubbed the “caucus” by their oppo-nents, the conservatives blocked attempts tomake judges elective and not appointive, andthey placed gubernatorial and judicial salariesoutside the legislature’s purview by fixing them inthe constitution. The outnumbered pro-democra-cy delegates strenuously objected to both provi-sions and branded the two thousand dollarsalaries awarded the governor and judges exorbi-tant. Notwithstanding those successes, caucusmembers wisely chose not to buck the powerfulnational trend that favored universal white man-hood suffrage without property qualifications.

While delegates debated these issues, thecontesting factions set their sights on the newstate’s upcoming elections. In the absence oforganized political parties, members of the cau-cus proposed a ticket headed by territorialGovernor Clark, while their opponents quicklyrallied around the banner of Alexander McNair.Clark’s supporters believed that his long years ofpublic service and governmental experiencewould make him a virtual shoo-in, but McNair’sbackers correctly sensed that the governor’slengthy record might in fact prove to be a liabil-ity. Each side agreed upon a slate of candidatesfor the other state elective offices, and all was inreadiness for a spirited campaign.

Clark had declared his availability for thestate’s highest office in 1819. The rapidly deterio-rating health of his beloved wife Julia, who wasstricken with breast cancer, however, had givenhim second thoughts. He vacillated as he pon-

Campaign pamphlet found in St. Charles CircuitCourt case file “Rector v. Roberts and Nash, 1822.”(St. Charles Circuit Court)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 15

ed with the electoral behavior expected byAmerica’s Founding Fathers. From this perspec-tive it would have been unseemly for him to taketo the hustings in support of his own candidacy.

In a prepared statement, Clark briefly outlinedhis qualifications for those who did not know himand pledged simply to do his best “to contributeto your prosperity, and to maintain the honor of aState whose name must forever be dear to me.”He touted his republican credentials earned in theschool of Washington, Jefferson, Madison, andMonroe and offered Missouri’s old inhabitantsand the Creole elite as character references. Asthe establishment candidate, Clark was content torun on his record of bringing peace, order, andstability to the fast growing territory.

In contrast, Clark’s opponent AlexanderMcNair, a popular militia officer, capitalized onthe growing appeal of political democratizationand expanded opportunities for white men. Aonetime member of the “St. Louis Clique,” hestealthily maneuvered to bring his public stancesinto closer conformity with America’s changingsocial and political attitudes. As register of pub-lic lands he championed squatters’ rights andpreemption, policies especially popular inMissouri’s rapidly growing outstate region. In theconstitutional convention McNair artfully posi-tioned himself to run for governor by voting reg-ularly with the populist minority, further distanc-ing himself from old friends in the caucus.

Once on the campaign trail McNair soughtto differentiate himself from Clark, who he nowbranded a captive of special interests. Heassured voters that in the conduct of his publicduties he had never, and would never, showfavoritism based on friendship or party. By pre-senting himself as a man of the people, McNairmade farmers, mechanics, and the popular mul-titude the focus of his attention.

The lines were drawn, and by mid-July polit-ical campaigning was already underway.Missouri’s partisan newspaper publishers madeno effort to disguise their political preferences asthey rushed to define issues and shape popularperceptions of the candidates. Joseph Charless,the Missouri Gazette’s fiery publisher, plantedhimself firmly in McNair’s camp, with behind-the-scenes support from the acerbic federaljudge, John B.C. Lucas. Working together theyset about to settle old scores and tarnish the pub-lic image of their longtime nemesis Clark. Lucasstill smarted from the death of his son at thehands of Clark’s most strident sponsor, ThomasHart Benton, and employed his pen to portraythe governor as an aloof Virginia aristocrat, outof touch with ordinary voters, and a toady for theold guard. Clark’s willingness to identify himselfwith establishment figures and his aversion todirect campaigning made him vulnerable tosuch charges. In so doing, he revealed a tin ear,deaf to an evolving political culture that expect-ed candidates to affect a common touch. Equallydamaging were the relentless allegations that inhis dealings with Indians he favored his nativecharges over his frontier constituents.

J.B.C. Lucas.(Missouri State Archives)

Alexander McNair.(Missouri State Archives)

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Sensing that this carefully scripted portrait ofClark was gaining popular acceptance, ThomasHart Benton, editor of the St. Louis Enquirer firedback, questioning McNair’s qualifications for thejob. After acknowledging McNair as a good man,“An Old Citizen” openly scoffed at attempts tocompare McNair with Henry Clay, asserting thatMcNair’s record as a public servant had beenlackluster. But it was McNair’s campaigning tech-niques that drew the greatest fire from his foes.They accused him of pitting the recently arrivedfarmers and the poor against Missouri’s old inhab-itants and lambasted his vote begging excursionsin underground grog shops and back alleys, andhis willingness to resort to the use of hard cider(cheaper than whiskey) to attract a crowd.

Cognizant that things were not going hisuncle’s way, John O’Fallon drafted a sixteen-pagecampaign biography calling attention to Clark’ssterling record of public service and his manyaccomplishments. But it was to no avail. Whenthe votes were counted McNair had defeatedClark by a margin of nearly three to one. In thelieutenant governor’s race William H. Ashley, amilitia officer and rising entrepreneur outpolledNathaniel Cook, the candidate preferred by theold-timers. The contest for both houses in theGeneral Assembly produced similar results asvoters eager for change opted for candidates whofavored Indian removal and embraced a populistpolitical dynamic championing the commonman. John Scott, the territorial delegate inCongress, who ran for Congress unopposed, wasthe only statewide establishment candidate toescape the onslaught. The only glimmer of hope

for the old guard came when members of thenewly elected General Assembly chose ThomasHart Benton as one of the state’s U.S. Senators.The other slot went to another traditionalist,David Barton, who would inevitably be unable tomake the switch to the new order.

For Missourians, the 1820 elections markedthe end of an era. An electorate that includedmany first time voters took the reigns of govern-ment from the hands of a well-entrenched St.Louis-based political establishment controlled bya small clique of wealthy special interest groups,French Creoles and willing American allies, andturned them over to an assemblage of relativepolitical novices. That triumph dramatized thegrowing power and influence of the legions ofnewly arrived, democratic-minded farmers incentral Missouri’s thriving Boonslick country. St.Louis, soon to become America’s dominantinland city, lost its designation as the capital, asthe shifting locus of political power moved to St.Charles, and then more-tellingly six years later, toJefferson City in the state’s center.

A new style of electioneering was anotherlegacy of this campaign. Henceforth candidatesfor office in Missouri, whatever their views, foundit necessary to court the rank and file voters whonow drove the political process. That lesson wasnot lost on Thomas Hart Benton, who rushed toembrace the causes of democratic politics and thecommon man. Senator Benton’s close identifica-tion with the tenets of Jacksonian Democracy andhis rising stature in state and national political cir-cles soon signaled the opening of yet anotherchapter in Missouri’s storied political history.

“The Assembly of the Legislature at St. Charles in June, 1821,” by Richard E. Miller.(Missouri State Archives)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 17

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Christopher Phillips

Most American slaveholders considered theexpansion of black servitude into the westernterritories the life’s blood of southern civiliza-tion, but few felt it so keenly as Missouri’s slave-holders. When Congress announced the open-ing of Kansas territory for settlement in 1854,Missouri’s masters declared it was essential thatthe new territory embrace slavery if their ownhuman property was to remain secure. Borderedon the east by the “free-soil” state of Illinois andon the north by the “free-soil” state of Iowa,Missouri masters felt isolated. If Kansas to itswest also became “free,” then runaway slaveswould have a haven at every turn, and the exam-ple of free blacks practically living among them.Like their fathers before them, Missouri slave-holders also wanted the option of western migra-tion, should they choose. It was an infringementof their liberty to have this opportunity closed tothem. To that end, thousands of Missouri slave-holders and their sympathizers temporarily“invaded” Kansas to vote in its elections andeventually to engage in violence against north-ern free-soil immigrants. By 1856, the escalatingconflict known as “Bleeding Kansas” became anational crisis. As the harsh drama unfolded, theinitial proslavery “Lecompton Constitution”—adopted with the help of the votes of thousandsof “one-day” Kansans from Missouri—failed.To the consternation of southern slaveholdersgenerally, and those in Missouri in particular, itbecame clear that antislavery settlers from thenorth outnumbered proslavery settlers from thesouth, and that Kansas would be “free.”

In the wake of slavery’s Kansas defeat, manyMissourians embraced a proslavery militancythat had only a limited appeal to them previous-ly. Missouri’s governor at the onset of the Kansascrisis, Sterling Price, had ineffectively attemptedto moderate the growing proslavery belligerencyamong some political leaders. Although a largeslaveholder himself, Price’s unwillingness topander to the proslavery electorate angeredthose who once looked to him as their leader.Price’s successor, Robert M. Stewart, a nativeNew Yorker who had moved to St. Joseph in1840, did not make the same mistake. He nar-rowly won election in a special election in1857, almost exclusively by proslavery voters.From Andrew Jackson’s presidency to the late1850s, a variety of issues had guided theDemocratic party. These now collapsed underthe single issue of slavery. Recognizing this state

of affairs, Stewart stood up strongly for slaveryand states’ rights throughout his term.

The 1858 midterm election only confirmedMissouri’s transition toward this stronger proslav-ery stance. Fearful of the Republican party’semergence and its opposition to slavery’s west-ward extension, Democratic voters favoredproslavery over free-soil Democrats, even in thefree-soil stronghold of St. Louis. Outside of St.Louis, proslavery candidates had even greatersupport. In all, seventy-four Democrats wonseats in the Missouri House, most of themproslavery, while the heavily proslavery SenateDemocrats dominated their opposition, twenty-four seats to nine. Separate factional Democraticconventions held at Georgetown and Fayetteboth adopted resolutions declaring the Demo-cratic Party as the lone barrier to the “BlackRepublican” onslaught. The author of both ofthese sets of resolutions was the once discredit-ed politician, Claiborne Fox Jackson.

An address given at a pro-slavery convention.Robert L. Hawkins III Collection, 1855.(Missouri State Archives)

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Jackson, a former Howard County state sen-ator, had been exiled from Missouri politics in1852 for his role in introducing a series ofproslavery resolutions in the state legislature in1849. The so-called “Jackson Resolutions” weredesigned to forcefully declare the state’s enthusi-asm for slavery’s western expansion, and morespecifically, to end Missouri senior senatorThomas Hart Benton’s work on behalf of the free-soil movement. The result was highly con-tentious. Both Benton and Jackson lost theirrespective seats, and the political fallout stifledthe militant proslavery “Ultras,” as they becameknown, for much of the decade. By the late1850s, however, Jackson’s popularity was againon the rise, and by the fall of 1859 he was ready,announcing to a close group of supporters thathe intended to run for Missouri’s governorship.

Despite his remarkable reversal of fortune,Claib Jackson did not enjoy the unified supportof the pro-Southern Ultras, much less the entireMissouri Democratic party. The 1860 party con-vention, which Jackson chaired, was stormy. Atits center stood the presidential candidacy ofStephen A. Douglas, who represented the tradi-tional mainstream of the Democratic party, butwhose seemingly equivocal stance on slaverythe Ultras found wanting. Discord erupted uponJackson’s relinquishing the chair’s gavel in orderto seek the convention’s gubernatorial nomina-tion. That proved just the beginning. Raucousconfusion and violent invective reached itscrescendo during the nomination of pro- andanti-Douglas delegates to the national conven-tion. Amidst the tumult, Jackson received theparty’s nomination for governor on the fourthballot. In the end, the proslavery faction carriedevery contest in the convention, from the nomi-nations of Jackson, to that of Thomas CauteReynolds for lieutenant governor, to the dictatingof the Democratic platform. Still, the discordantconvention clearly indicated that Jackson wouldhave no party mandate in the fall election.

While widely regarded as an Ultra, Jacksonaccepted his role as the standard-bearer for allMissouri Democrats. As such, he sought to har-monize the competing factions, a difficult taskthat national events soon rendered impossible.The country’s political edifice crumbled duringthe spring, with four candidates running for pres-ident, two of whom came from the Democraticparty. While Illinoisan Stephen Douglas hadreceived the traditional Democratic nomination,breakaway southern Democrats nominatedKentuckian John C. Breckinridge. TennesseanJohn Bell represented the Constitutional Unionparty, an alignment of old-line southern Whigs(the Whig party now being defunct), and mem-bers of the short-lived nativist, anti-immigrant“Know-Nothing” party. The Constitutional

Unionists attempted to assuage the nation’s divi-sion over slavery by appealing to Union-lovingborder residents. The final candidate, IllinoisanAbraham Lincoln, led the antislavery Republi-cans in their party’s second national campaign.This slate approximated the nation’s sectionalalignment. Since the Republicans had takencontrol of the U.S. House in 1858, proslaveryvoters grimly had to consider the possibility thatRepublicans would win the presidency as wellin 1860. Many voters, consequently, mergedstate and national elections in their minds, as areferendum on the fate of the nation.

By endorsing neither Douglas, the party’s“regular” nominee, nor Breckinridge, the south-ern rights candidate, Jackson hoped to maintainparty unity through the maelstrom of popularpolitics. Any hope of remaining neutral ended,however, as powerful St. Louisans began pres-suring him to announce his choice of presiden-tial preference. Believing the largest portion ofthe state was secure for the Ultras, Jackson deter-mined that his best electoral advantage lay incatering to St. Louis. Boasting nearly 160,000residents–a full fifteen percent of the state’s freepopulation–antislavery St. Louis could not beignored. Its voters, however, were resistant toout-state candidates from the politically influen-tial central river counties, particularly a candi-date recognized as an anti-Benton, proslaveryUltra. In light of the secessionist flashes emittingfrom the cotton states, St. Louisans neededassurance that Jackson intended a moderatecourse if he was elected to the state’s highestoffice. To keep their favor Jackson concluded tosupport Douglas, but attempted to straddle thefence by trying to make clear that he–beyond allparty affiliation–remained staunchly proslavery,and unwaveringly states’ rights in his views.

Jackson gambled that his reputation wouldlet him hang onto the majority of proslaveryDemocrats no matter which national candidatehe supported. With St. Louis and centralMissouri planned for, Jackson campaigned

Claiborne Fox Jackson.(Missouri State Archives)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 19

extensively in the more sparsely settled south-western portion of the state, a region normallyall but ignored by Missouri politicians. The deci-sion was not so quixotic; southwestern Missouriwas the home ground of Waldo P. Johnson, whohad been Jackson’s leading Democratic rival forgubernatorial nomination. Johnson had carriedtwice as many committed delegates to the recentconvention as any of the other candidates.Jackson now sought votes among Johnson’s sup-porters, most of whom shared common originsfrom the border south. It was only at the end ofthe campaign did Jackson and Reynolds publiclyannounce their support for Douglas as theDemocratic presidential nominee. As a stunnedproslavery audience listened in his Fayettehometown, Jackson argued, somewhat weakly,that the Illinoisan’s stance against abolitionismmade the party safe in his hands if elected pres-ident. Yet Jackson attempted to appease theUltras by balancing his favorable commentsabout the controversial Douglas with warmremarks about Breckinridge, who he claimed ashis personal favorite. He supported the “regular”candidate, he said, only in pursuit of party unity.

Missouri’s gubernatorial race mirrored thenational fracture in another way; followingJackson’s declaration of support for Douglas, twoother candidates jumped into the race. WhenJackson embraced the “regular” Democrats,conservative Breckinridge Democrats renouncedhim as their candidate and named Hancock L.Jackson, a former governor, as their choice. Atthe same time, an ephemeral coalition of mod-erate Benton Democrats, former Whigs andKnow-Nothings, and even some Republicans,rallied behind Sample Orr. Those supporting Orrbecame known simply as the “Opposition” andmade common cause with the ConstitutionalUnion Party. Orr, himself, was a conservativesouthwest Missouri judge and farmer. Hedogged Jackson for much of his campaign, evenspeaking in opposition to him at the end of

Jackson’s own rallies. James B. Gardenhire ofCole County was the Republican nominee.

The election proved tight. Tension ran highon election day, and for the days thereafter, untilstate officials finally released the results. Jacksonhad won by 7,863 votes, carrying forty-sevenpercent of the 158,579 popular votes cast;Sample Orr finished second with forty-two per-cent of the votes. The remaining candidates,Hancock Jackson and Republican JamesGardenhire, together carried just eleven percentof the electorate. The governor-elect drew sup-port relatively evenly from the various sectionsof the state; he carried seventy counties whilereceiving respectable ballots in all of the remain-ing thirty-five. In the slaveholding Boon’s Lickriver counties of central Missouri, Jackson drewa mixed response, splitting them fairly evenlywith Orr. In St. Louis, the state’s only Republicanstronghold, Jackson ran a strong second, pre-sumably because of his support for StephenDouglas (validating his strategy of announcingfor Douglas).

With the three-month wait between thestate’s election and the national election, manymoderate Missourians became edgy about thenation’s future. The state election saw a raft ofBreckinridge Democrats elected to the GeneralAssembly, having claimed 15 of 33 seats in theSenate and 47 of 132 seats in the House. Theirstrong performance in the state’s legislative con-tests had obvious implications for the Novemberpresidential election. Moderate fears, however,were unfounded. Missouri proved the only statein the Union that “the regular Democratic can-didate” Douglas fully carried in the calamitouselection. Breckinridge and Lincoln’s candidacieswere as sectional in Missouri as that ofBreckinridge and Lincoln in the nation. Virtuallyall of Breckenridge’s votes came from sparselypopulated counties in the south-central portionof the state, while most of Lincoln’s Missourivotes came from Germans in St. Louis and the

Stephen A. Douglas.(The State Historical Societyof Missouri, Columbia)

John C. Breckinridge.(The State Historical Societyof Missouri, Columbia)

John Bell.(The State Historical Societyof Missouri, Columbia)

Abraham Lincoln.(The State Historical Societyof Missouri, Columbia)

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nearby German settlements along the MissouriRiver. By and large, Missourians rejected both“Union splitters and rail splitters” at the polls.Compromise candidates Bell and Douglas gar-nered nine-tenths of the state’s votes, and morethan seven of every ten of the Boon’s Lickers’ballots. Significantly, moderate Douglas pre-vailed over moderate Bell in the region by a mar-gin, while not one of the state’s largest slavehold-ing counties gave their votes to Breckinridge.Despite the inroads of the Breckinridge Demo-crats in the state legislature, moderate Demo-crats and Constitutional Unionists outnumberedthem ninety to sixty-two. In St. Louis, the state’sRepublican stronghold, Douglas ran a strongsecond to Lincoln, while Breckinridge polledonly 544 votes. In the national election,Missourians, above all, had called for temperateaction on the issues of slavery and union.

While Missourians evinced a sympathy forthe “southern rights,” they did so only as fellowslaveholders, not as secessionists. Unlike south-ern “fireaters,” Missourians held that individualstates could still protect themselves from the

northern majority by invoking, rather than aban-doning, the national Union. Even when Douglashad opposed Kansas’ corrupt attempt to enterthe Union as a slave state, he opposed it as thechampion of individual rights. But individualrights, he added, must include the right to ownslaves where legal. Missourians agreed. So longas democracy, however imperfect, prevailed inthe Union, and so long as the federal govern-ment protected liberty by upholding individualrights (including slaveholding where it existed),Missourians would remain loyal.

Within weeks of Abraham Lincoln’s presi-dential election, and ten days before Missouri’sGeneral Assembly convened on January 4,1861, South Carolina claimed as the ultimatestate’s “right” to withdraw from the union. Sixother cotton states, then holding elections fordelegates to conventions, would choose a simi-lar response. The American house was divided.Missouri, the crossroads of the nation, nowstood at its own crossroads of union or disunion.To Governor Jackson’s great disappointment,Missouri alone among those states calling a con-

Wounded Soldiers and Stragglers, c1860.(The State Historical Society of Missouri, Columbia)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 21

stitutional convention decided not to secede. Itwished to be both slaveholding and Union. Atthe advent of the war, Missourians opted forarmed neutrality, even as many of the neighbor-ing border south states seceded after Lincoln’scall for troops to maintain the Union followingSouth Carolina’s attack on Sumter, the federalisland fortress in Charleston harbor.

Ironically, the neutrality desired by mostMissourians opened the state to four years of ananarchical civil war within its boundaries, onethat operated on the margin of the formal mili-tary conflict. One-fourth of Missouri’s eligiblemen fought in the federal and confederatearmies: 109,000 Missourians for the North andas many as 30,000 for the South. Thousandsmore fought as guerrillas, subjecting Union sol-diers and civilians in virtually all sections of thestate to more than three years of rampant bush-whacking, sniping, hit-and-run raiding, arson,and murder. While these partisans representedbut a fraction of those who served in theConfederate army, their influence on the state’spopulace far surpassed any mustered byMissourians in gray. But both sides participated.By one estimate, nearly twenty-seven thousandMissouri citizens lost their lives at the hands ofsouthern and union sympathizing raiders, mak-ing Missouri, more than any other state, thescene of such vicious savagery as to leave localhatreds lasting decades after the guns of the CivilWar had stilled.

More peaceable Missourians, however,shared much of the same high emotion as thebushwhackers, but used politics to avenge theirwartime grievances. The harsh Drake Constitu-tion, enacted in 1865 by Missouri’s pro-LincolnRadicals, barred former confederates from vot-ing or office-holding until 1871. After that datethey soon swept into state offices, including con-federate Lieutenant Governor Thomas CauteReynolds, who served in the state legislature;Francis M. Cockrell, a former Confederate gener-al, who became a U.S. Senator; and George G.Vest (who had represented Missouri in bothhouses of the Confederate Congress), who sub-sequently joined Cockrell in the U.S. Senate in

1879. Cockrell eventually served three decadesin the Senate, while Vest stayed nearly a quartercentury. The postwar Confederate rise culminat-ed with John Sappington Marmaduke’s electionas Missouri governor in 1884. Marmaduke, aformer Confederate general, was not only theson of a former governor, but the nephew of itsexiled rebel governor, Claiborne F. Jackson.

Evidence suggests that Missourians’ pro-Southern political defiance merged with a newConfederate identity in which their former statusas westerners and unionists became obscured.Many Missourians now claimed the state hadbeen southern all along. Within a few years ofthe war’s end, small towns and cities throughoutMissouri erected monuments honoring theirConfederate dead. Former Confederates, such asGeneral Daniel M. Frost, championed the estab-lishment of a confederate veterans home andconfederate cemetery in Higginsville. Suchmemorials not only honored the valiant dead,but also served as a counterweight to chargesthat these soldiers were unpatriotic and treason-ous by fighting for the South. Indeed,Missourians sought to preserve the memory ofthose who sacrificed their lives repelling federalinvaders from their state. Memorializationbound Missourians with other Confederate stateresidents, not only in the replication of suchactivities as was occurring throughout the South,but also by entwining their shared experience ofwar.

Once complete, Missouri’s Confederate mys-tique capped a process that spanned decades.Perhaps the most lasting symbol of Missouri’sConfederate heritage was the adoption of theterm “Little Dixie” as the name of the formerslaveholding center of the state. The commonsobriquet reflected more than voting trends; itstood as a distorted symbol of what manyMissourians believed they were culturally, yetnever were, and what they never were political-ly, yet now believed they had always been.These once-westerners now looked to the regionthat embodied their sense of betrayal and victim-ization—the beleaguered south—for their identi-ty.

OFFICIAL MANUAL22

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Bonnie Stepenoff

In 1902, journalist Lincoln Steffens came to St.Louis to find out if democracy had failed there.With the help of a local reporter, he exposedbribery, corruption, bad government, and collu-sion between powerful businessmen and politi-cians. But he also made a hero, Joseph Folk, theprosecutor who fought to bring these men to jus-tice. Democracy might have stumbled in St. Louis,but it had not fallen. Its future depended on peo-ple’s willingness to act in the best interest of thecommunity and to make their leaders do the same.Faith in human decency, the impulse to create abetter society, and belief in the possibility of cleangovernment carried progressive candidates to vic-tory in Missouri’s path-breaking election of 1904.

Forty years earlier, the Civil War had batteredthese simple articles of faith. Among the casual-ties that limped from the battlefields were threeantebellum reform movements: abolition,women’s rights, and temperance. When slaveryended, the old abolitionists scattered, leaving thestruggle for racial equality to future generations.After the Fifteenth Amendment pointedly omittedthe word “sex” from its promise of voting rights,the women’s movement faltered. During the Civil

War and Reconstruction, the temperance move-ment failed to find a comfortable home in theRepublican and Democratic parties.

In the decades following the war, reform-minded people gradually regained their enthusi-asm. In the 1870s, thousands of disenfranchisedwomen rallied to the anti-liquor banner with asurprisingly powerful organization, the Women’sChristian Temperance Union (WCTU). Otherpeople responded to other causes. “Populist”farmers swelled the presidential crusades ofNebraska Democrat William Jennings Bryan,who stood up for the common man against themoneyed interests. “Single-taxers,” like WilliamMarion Reedy, editor of the St. Louis Mirror,pleaded for economic equality through taxreform. Labor reformers demanded factoryinspections, wage and hour laws, workmen’scompensation, and a ban on child labor.Clubwomen spoke out against tainted food,spoiled milk, and ineffective drugs. Having beenenergized by other reform efforts, womenresumed their struggle for the right to vote. Thethreads connecting all these groups were thedesire for change and an adamant optimism.

This was not the optimism tied to dreams ofthe expanding frontier. The war and its aftermathhad tarnished that. The trailblazer in buckskinbelonged to the past. On Missouri’s burned-outwestern border, Jesse James came to symbolizehopeless resistance to the power of banks andrailroads. Passenger trains brought businessmen instarched collars and derby hats. In booming St.

William Jennings Bryan Campaigning at Blackburn, Mo., c1900.(Missouri State Archives)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 23

Joseph, Pony Express riders enjoyed a moment ofglory, but grain dealers and livestock tycoons builtfar more substantial monuments. The lavish man-sions of the city’s Hall Street proclaimed a newera of big money, big spending, and even biggerdreams. Mark Twain called it the Gilded Age.

Steffens was not alone in wondering ifAmerican cities had surrendered their souls togreed, arrogance, and corruption. In Kansas City,William Rockhill Nelson, publisher of the EveningStar, declared that his city was no longer a bordertown and demanded responsible government,street cleaning, building inspections, better sanita-tion, parks, and boulevards. Beginning in the1880s, he exposed election fraud and wrongdoingby public utility companies. On the positive side,he praised the creation of wide, tree-lined park-ways, gardens, and fountains, springing from theideal of the well-planned modern city. Accordingto historians A. Theodore Brown and Lyle Dorsett,Nelson represented the “urban Jeffersonians,” whowanted to bring the ethics of the old agriculturalrepublic to a new industrial society.

Industrial development penetrated every cor-ner of Missouri. Louis Houck, a lawyer and anentrepreneur, moved heaven and earth to buildrailroad lines connecting the wetlands of theBootheel to Cape Girardeau and the widerworld. Sawmills whirred at every depot, as lum-ber companies harvested the hardwood andcypress trees of the southeastern lowlands. By1905, the Little River Drainage District hadbegun digging a massive system of ditches tocarry water out of the swamps and funnel it intothe Mississippi River.

With the ground shifting under their feet, peo-ple looked for ways to control the world aroundthem. Temperance advocates found sympatheticaudiences in Missouri. Rural areas offered thestrongest support for a ban on liquor, but someurban middle class progressives viewed it as away to clean up corruption, elevate the lowerclasses, and strengthen democracy. The flamboy-ant reformer, Carry Nation, famous for her hack-et-wielding attacks on bars, made dramaticappearances in the state. Less theatrically, butperhaps more effectively, other women handedout pamphlets and taught Sunday school lessonsabout the evils of strong drink. Many Protestantclergymen supported the cause. In 1887, thestate legislature had passed a local liquor optionlaw, allowing counties to decide whether or notto issue liquor licenses. By 1917, 96 of Missouri’s114 counties had gone dry.

The temperance crusade underscored divi-sions in Missouri society. Rural counties votedfor prohibition, while urban areas opposed it.Some cities, such as Joplin, remained “wet”holdouts in dry counties. St. Louis dependedheavily on the brewing industry and so hadmuch to lose. Kansas City, which had a powerfultemperance movement, remained sharply divid-ed on the issue. Baptists, Methodists, and evan-gelical Protestants generally supported temper-ance. Catholics, Lutherans, and Jews tended tobe against it. The counties with large German-American populations along the Missouri andMississippi rivers remained staunchly “wet” in astate that was going dry.

OFFICIAL MANUAL24

Cleared timber, Little River Drainage District, Southeast Missouri, 1919.(Missouri State Archives)

In a more positive effort to cope with achanging world, Missourians improved their sys-tem of elementary, secondary, and higher educa-tion. St. Louis school superintendent WilliamTorrey Harris promoted the public schools asallies of industrial progress. Throughout the state,citizens built colleges and universities to trainyoung people for careers and professions. TheUniversity of Missouri extended its offerings toinclude law and medicine at Columbia andengineering at Rolla. To provide the publicschools with teachers, the state created normalschools at Kirksville, Warrensburg, CapeGirardeau, Springfield, and Maryville. LincolnInstitute in Jefferson City trained African-Amer-icans to teach in the black schools. All ofMissouri’s public schools were still segregated.

On the eve of the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair,Missouri was a state with persistent racial divi-sions, tension between urban and rural commu-nities, corrupt municipal governments, but pos-sessed of a strong desire to make a positiveimpression on the world. Steffens’ revelationscould not have come at a worse moment. InOctober 1902 and March 1903, McClure’s Mag-azine published articles, written by ClaudeWetmore and edited by Steffens, proclaimingthat St. Louis had the second worst city govern-ment in the United States (after Philadelphia) atthe same time it was inviting everyone to comethere for the fair.

It was in this context that one man – oneslightly built man with a firm chin and a softvoice – emerged as the hero of the day. His

name, Joseph W. Folk, suggested honesty and aconnection to the common people. His ene-mies, and some of his friends, called him “HolyJoe.” He had a solid middle class background, arecord of prosecuting grafters as St. Louis circuitattorney, a healthy political ambition, and a pro-gram that he called “The Missouri Idea.”Basically Folk wanted to bring the state back to“Jeffersonian orthodoxy,” restoring honesty togovernment and moral rectitude to the people.Although he did not push for prohibition, herigidly enforced the dram-shop (saloon-licens-ing) laws and dry Sundays, and closed the race-tracks. He also supported a wide range of reformthat placed him at the center of Missouri’sProgressive Movement.

The state’s Democratic convention nominatedhim for governor by an overwhelming majority in1904. His rise to fame had been rapid. He helpedorganize the Jefferson Club, an organization ofyoung Democrats, who campaigned for Bryan asPresident in 1896. A great admirer of Bryan andan active member of the club, Folk headed theorganization in 1898-1899. In 1900, he mediateda transit strike and won the support of organizedlabor. During that same year, he won election asSt. Louis circuit attorney. The McClure’s articleshelped give him national recognition as areformer. His platform rested on morality andhonesty in public life, faith in the common peo-ple, and opposition to special privilege. In the1904 election, he was the only Democrat to wina statewide executive office. Indeed, presidentialcandidate Theodore Roosevelt was the first

Lincoln Institute, Jefferson City, Mo., c1900.(Missouri State Archives)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 25

Republican to carry Missouri since Ulysses S.Grant in 1868. Progressivism, which crossedparty lines, swept the state.

Folk’s inaugural address in January 1905sounded more like a sermon than a politicalspeech, but his administration achieved impor-tant reforms. Anti-bribery legislation attempted toclean up state politics. A statewide primary lawgave the people a greater role in choosing publicofficials. Folk proposed amending the state con-stitution to allow the initiative and referendum.Passed in 1908, the measure opened the doorsfor citizens to place issues on the ballot. (In 1910,1916, and 1918, anti-liquor advocates placedprohibition referenda on the ballot. The large“no” vote in St. Louis clinched their defeat. Butthe temperance crusaders did not give up.)

Under Folk’s leadership, Missouri adoptedprotective legislation for workers and children.An eight-hour law applied to workers in minesand smelters. New legislation limited railroadworkers to no more than sixteen straight hours ofwork followed by at least eight hours of rest. Thegovernor signed a law prohibiting childrenunder the age of fourteen from working in facto-ries. School attendance became compulsory forchildren between the ages of eight and fourteen,and the state established detention homes fordelinquent and dependent children, who mightotherwise end up in jails or poor houses.

The Folk administration strenuously enforcedanti-trust laws, attempting to curb the power ofbig business. Herbert Hadley, the RepublicanAttorney General, initiated significant legalaction against Standard Oil. By taking on thiscorporate giant, Hadley rose to national promi-nence. His investigation provided the basis forsimilar actions in other states and at the federallevel. According to Missouri’s constitution, Folkcould not succeed himself as governor. Hadley,who headed the statewide Republican ticket in1908, won a decisive victory and continued topush a progressive agenda.

Folk’s political opponents however, succeed-ed in bringing an abrupt end to his career. In1908, he ran for his party’s nomination to theUnited States Senate, but he lost. Lined upagainst him were business interests and partyregulars. His anti-vice campaign alienated somepowerful men in urban centers like Kansas City,where Tom Pendergast was rising as a politicalboss. Hadley, a Kansas City man, continued tofight crime and corruption in his hometown, buteventually Pendergast and his cronies prevailedover the Republican Progressive’s good intentionas well. Folk, who still had a national reputation,made an unsuccessful bid for the Democraticnomination to the Presidency in 1912.Woodrow Wilson, who was also a ProgressiveDemocrat, won that election.

Progressive enthusiasm waned quickly in theaftermath of World War I, just as earlier reformefforts had crumbled during the Civil War. Theaging William Jennings Bryan opposed Americaninvolvement in the European conflict, insistingthat the three great reform movements of his daywere peace, prohibition, and women’s suffrage.In 1917, on a nationwide speaking tour, he deliv-ered an impassioned address to the Missouri leg-islature. The 49th General Assembly issued 7,500printed copies of his oration, including 2,500copies in German. After the war, Missouri ratifiedthe 18th Amendment to the United States Con-stitution, preparing the way for national prohibi-tion. Women finally won their voting rights whenthe 19th Amendment became part of the Con-stitution in 1920. Peace remained an elusiveideal.

The legacy of Progressivism was mixed. Onthe plus side, women won their voting rights, andworkers gained some protection from exploita-tion. The state embraced the idea that all childrendeserved an education. In the negative column,prohibition proved to be bad public policy.Corrupt political bosses continued to wieldpower in the cities. Big corporations found waysto evade government regulations. Economicinequality, urban-rural tension, and ethnic divi-sions triumphed over good will. Folk’s adminis-tration gave citizens more control over the elec-toral process, but did not guarantee all peoplethe full rights of citizenship. Progressive reformsdid nothing to alleviate racial discrimination.

Still, with all its faults and complexities, theProgressive Movement had hit upon one essen-tial truth. In order to create a better society, itwas necessary to appeal to the conscience of thepeople. The civil rights movement in the 1950sand 1960s would test this idea and prove itspower. Human beings are far from perfect, andtherefore, political leaders are far from perfect.But democracy depends on a belief in the funda-mental decency of humans, and an insistencethat leaders must answer to the people.

OFFICIAL MANUAL26

Joseph Folk(Missouri State Archives)

Herbert Hadley(Missouri State Archives)

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John Korasick

On February 27, 1945, Missourians voted toadopt a new constitution to better manage theproblems presented by the modern world. Theprevious constitution, adopted in 1875, was pri-marily designed to place a severe limit on thepower of state government. This led to the writ-ing of a highly detailed document, but forced theregular adoption of amendments to keep itviable. Indeed, the people amended the consti-tution sixty times. The first attempt at a compre-hensive revision of the 1875 constitution camethrough an initiative petition in 1920, resultingin a convention in 1922-1923, but produced lit-tle by way of reform. The conven-tion, however, successfully pro-posed a referendum on the holdingof a constitutional convention everytwenty years. The first required votecame in 1942. With support frommany organizations, most promi-nently the Statewide Committee forthe Revision of the MissouriConstitution and the MissouriLeague of Women Voters, the meas-ure authorizing a conventionpassed. The ensuing assembly, heldin 1943-1944, produced a newconstitution, which won voterapproval in 1945.

If the 1945 constitution wasmeant to modernize and reformMissouri government, its 1875predecessor was intended to rightthe wrongs wrought by the 1865constitution. Adopted by theRadical Republicans at the end ofthe Civil War, the infamous “DrakeConstitution,” so-named for theconvention’s dominant spirit,Charles Drake, contained provi-sions meant to permanently disfran-chise Southern sympathizers andkeep the Radicals in power.Historians estimate that the consti-tution disfranchised as many asone-third of all adult males throughits infamous “Ironclad Oath,” whichrequired a potential voter to avowthat he had never fought for, aided,or sympathized with the Confed-eracy. It also barred Southern sym-pathizers from working as attorneys,

teachers, clergymen, or serving on corporationboards. To ensure the judiciary’s sympathy forRadical measures, the convention adopted an“Ousting Ordinance,” turning out of office allincumbent judges, county clerks, circuit attor-neys, sheriffs, and recorders, and filling theirplaces by gubernatorial appointment.

From the beginning many Missourians,including many Unionists, opposed the dracon-ian elements within the new constitution. By1870, a coalition of Liberal Republicans andDemocrats successfully captured the governor’soffice and the General Assembly, and adopted aconstitutional amendment abolishing the hatedtest oath. In the 1874 election, the Democratsgained decisive control of state government, aswell as all thirteen Congressional seats. With for-mer confederates fully enfranchised, the pres-sure for change lessened. There, nevertheless,remained a desire for a permanent bulwarkagainst the “tyranny” endured under the

1875 Constitutional Convention of Missouri Composite.(Missouri State Archives)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 27

Radicals. That year, the General Assemblypassed an act authorizing the people to vote fora constitutional convention. Reflecting the eas-ing of tension, the widely ignored propositionnarrowly passed by fewer than three hundredvotes.

What the conventioneers drew up was amasterpiece of nineteenth century localism.While it reflected the Democrats’ general anti-government resentment born of their experienceunder the Drake Constitution, it even morespecifically aimed at curbing the power of theGeneral Assembly. Before the Civil War, the leg-islature had issued bonds to fund private railroadconstruction. By 1860, nearly twenty-five mil-lion dollars in bonds had been issued. By thewar’s end, many of these railroads went bank-rupt, and the legislature foreclosed on the loans.But the practices of the commissioners chargedwith recouping the thirty-one million dollars ofdebt led to charges of corruption. The St. Louisand Iron Mountain Railroad, for example, wassold for $550,000 when it was really worth near-ly $3 million. The legislature’s role in these out-rages convinced many Missourians that it couldnot be trusted.

Thus, the framers of the 1875 constitutiondisplayed a hostility to government, based onthe perceived abuse of both political power andthe power of the purse. They equated cheap andlimited government with good government. Anarticle from the January 1876 edition of TheAmerican Law Review marveled that Missouri’selected representatives should be so severelyrestricted in their power. Surely “these changesin the Constitution of Missouri,” the articledeclared, “are a departure from the theory of ourform of government.”

While harsh legislative limitations were pop-ular and workable in a rural society, as time pro-gressed, Missouri, like the rest of the country,became increasingly urban and economicallycomplex. The need for governmental, particular-ly legislative, flexibility became apparent tomany observers. In 1900, nearly sixty-four per-cent of Missourians lived in rural areas. By 1920,the percentage of rural Missourians had fallen tofifty-three, and was rapidly declining.

It was in this context that in 1920 a group ofprivate citizens called the New ConstitutionAssociation successfully circulated a petitioncalling for a constitutional convention. In theend, the subsequent 1922 convention failed tosignificantly change the 1875 constitutionbecause it could not muster the support of ruralvoters. While urban voters generally backed theamendments, rural voters overwhelminglyturned against them. Even though the GreatDepression remained some years off, theMissouri farm economy had already plunged

into depression. The rural way of life faced anuncertain future. In this context, the expenseincurred in the long convention incited anger. Tomake matters worse, rural cultural valuesseemed under siege. Urban social change asso-ciated with the “loose living” of the “roaringtwenties” was anathema to many rural citizens.Mired in economic hardship and surrounded bysocial transformation conservative ruralMissourians voted for the status quo.

When Missourians were legally obliged toconsider calling a new constitutional conventiontwenty years later, the population shifts, evidentsince the beginning of the twentieth century, hadmade urban voters a majority. This time supportfor a new constitution was much stronger. Or-ganizations like the Statewide Committee for theRevision of the Missouri Constitution, theMissouri League of Women Voters, and theMissouri State Teacher’s Association waged aneducational campaign in support of a constitu-tional convention on radio, billboards, andnewspapers.

Opponents to a constitutional conventionoffered essentially three arguments—two relatedto America’s participation in the World War.First, the constitution should not be revised dur-ing a time of war when many Missourians wereoverseas. Everyone should have a voice. Second,even the Missourians at home were really toopreoccupied with the war to give the issue dueconsideration. The final objection focused on thehigh cost of a convention.

Proponents responded to these charges byarguing that reorganizing state governmentwould actually help the war effort by makinggovernment more efficient. They also assertedthat the 1875 constitution was so outdated itwould be wholly inadequate for dealing withpost-war issues. The final argument in favor ofcalling a convention in 1942 was that it was like-ly going to be the last opportunity to do so fortwenty years. Demands on state government hadchanged. Proponents stressed that the 1875 con-stitution had been written before telephones,electric lights, cars, airplanes, and concretehighways. Missouri had industrialized, and wasnow the home of sophisticated business enter-prises with greater governmental needs. TheGreat Depression had, moreover, produced anew “welfare state.” Demands for old age assis-tance, aid to dependent children, and directrelief—things never dreamed of in late nine-teenth century Missouri—were now common-place.

On election day, voter turnout was very low.The “hottest” issue on the ballot was the race forState Superintendent of Schools, then an electedpost. The number of votes cast for theSuperintendent was 924,683, only about half of

OFFICIAL MANUAL28

the turnout for the 1940 election, and two-thirdsof the turnout for the 1938 election. Just two-thirds of those voting for the Superintendentbothered to vote on the convention question,which passed 366,018 to 265,294. Almost one-third of the “yes” votes were cast in St. Louis. Itwas, in fact, the urban vote that carried the ques-tion.

Eighty-three delegates were selected for theconvention. Following the rules established forthe 1922–1923 convention, voters chose two del-egates from each of the thirty-four Senate dis-tricts—one Democrat and one Republican. Theremaining fifteen delegates were, in theory, non-partisan, placed on the ballot by petition. Civicgroups, in particular the League of Women Voters,had organized the petition process, though inreality, each party approved seven “non-partisan”candidates, and agreed that a fifteenth, Robert E.Blake, an anti-New Deal Democrat would serveas president of the convention.

Of the eighty-three delegates, forty-one werelawyers. Farm interests were represented byseven representatives, including R.W. Brown,President of the Missouri Farm Bureau. Therewere six newspaper editors, four college profes-sors, and two labor representatives, includingReuben T. Wood, President of the MissouriFederation of Labor. There were also two womendelegates, down from four in 1922-1923. Sixty-nine delegates were native Missourians, and twowere foreign born. Twenty-six were from St. Louisor Kansas City, and twenty-eight came fromtowns of less than five thousand inhabitants.

The delegates possessed a wealth of politicalexperience. Among their numbers were a formergovernor, two former Congressmen, a St. Louismayor, twenty-four state legislators, five circuitjudges, three probate judges, a justice of thepeace, and eleven prosecutors. The average del-egate’s age was fifty-five. Nearly two-thirds ofthe convention members had attended college.

The convention met for two hundred fifteendays between September 21, 1943, andSeptember 28, 1944. Using the 1875 constitu-tion as their starting place, delegates deletedmany sections, reworded others, and adoptedmany new ones. The resulting document waseleven thousand words shorter than the 1875constitution. The convention considered threehundred seventy-seven proposals. In months ofpublic hearings, organizations and individualMissourians offered testimony as to how the newconstitution should be shaped. Ultimately theconvention decided to submit the document tothe electorate as an undividable whole. That is,voters would not be allowed to rummagethrough the document and pick among its vari-ous parts. The authors of the proposed constitu-tion had conceived it as a single piece, and intheir view, the rejection of any part of it wouldrender the whole unsatisfactory.

The proposed bill of rights included manymodern social reforms: the right of women toserve on juries, the expansion of freedom ofspeech to include media broadcasts, and theright of workers to bargain collectively. Themajor change in the legislative section involved

Constitution cartoon, 1943.(The State Historical Society of Missouri, Columbia)

Missouri State Government employee, c1950.(Missouri State Archives)

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 29

OFFICIAL MANUAL30

the reapportionment of senatorial districts everyten years. Regarding the executive branch, therehad been a strong push to eliminate moststatewide offices in favor of a cabinet system,though, in the end, all offices were retained,except for the State Superintendent of Schools.The conventioneers, nevertheless, attempted toeliminate the problem of the “six little gover-nors” by carefully defining each office’s duties.New departments also came into being. All taxcollecting was routed to the new Department ofRevenue. The constitution also established theDepartments of Agriculture and Public Healthand Welfare. The constitution, furthermore, sig-naled the growing interest in depoliticizing someparts of government. Heretofore, partisans hadrun all divisions of government, no matter howspecialized. Now, for the first time, a “merit sys-tem” was proposed for the hiring of staff for thestate prisons, and eleemosynary institutions,such as Missouri’s mental health hospitals, itsBlind Commission, and the state’s veteranshomes. In the judicial section, the nonpartisancourt plan originally approved by the voters in1940 was retained despite a spirited attempt todestroy it. The justice of the peace system, datingfrom statehood, was fully replaced by magistratecourts. Other provisions adopted included: stateaid to libraries, forestry, state parks, historicalsites, and home rule for cities and counties. Oneof the most controversial provisions authorizedthe legislature to make exceptions to mandatoryschool segregation.

Missouri politicians, by and large, did notsupport the document; it upset too much of theirworld. Its promotion also had to compete withwar news. But many Missourians found the argu-ments on behalf of a new constitution com-pelling. Despite the obstacles placed in its path,the new constitution won overwhelmingapproval, garnering sixty-three percent of thevote, albeit in a light electoral turnout. Onceagain, the urban vote carried the measure, win-ning by four to one in Jackson County and threeto one in St. Louis City and County. Despitesome innovative measures, most people stillregarded the 1945 constitution as a conservativedocument, sharply limiting the power of stategovernment. Nevertheless, because citizensfrom outside the formal political structurethought the time for change had come, Missourireceived a new, more modern constitution,which remains the state’s basic law today.

Since its adoption sixty years ago theMissouri Constitution has weathered manycrises. Like its predecessor, it, too, has beenamended many times. Some amendments havebeen quite mundane, others controversial.Despite frequently voiced unhappiness with itsrestrictive nature, three opportunities to call aconvention have come and gone. Given thereluctance to call a convention through the leg-islature or initiative petition, it seems likely thatthe 1945 constitution will become the longest-lived constitution in Missouri history.

AAbboouutt tthhee AAuutthhoorrssWilliam E. Foley is Professor Emeritus of History at Central Missouri State University. He is the

author of many books and articles, including Wilderness Journey: The Life of William Clark and TheGenesis of Missouri.

Christopher Phillips is Associate Professor of History at the University of Cincinnati. Among hisbooks are: Missouri’s Confederate: Claiborne Fox Jackson and the Creation of Southern Identity in theBorder West and The Union on Trial: The Political Journals of Judge William Barclay Napton, 1829-1883.

Bonnie Stepenoff is Professor of History at Southeast Missouri State University. Her books includeThad Snow: A Life of Social Reform in the Missouri Bootheel.

John Korasick, Ph.D., is Judicial Records Archivist at the Missouri State Archives. He is the con-tributor of nearly fifty entries in the Encyclopedia of American History.

FFoorr FFuurrtthheerr RReeaaddiinngg

The 1820 Election

Foley, William E. “After the Applause: WilliamClark’s Failed 1820 Gubernatorial Campaign,”Gateway Heritage 24(2004): 105-111.

______. The Genesis of Missouri: From Wilder-ness Outpost to Statehood. Columbia: Uni-versity of Missouri Press, 1989.

______. Wilderness Journey: The Life of WilliamClark. Columbia: University of MissouriPress, 2004.

Kastor, Peter J. “Making Missouri American: ACrowded Frontier in the Age of Lewis andClark,” Official Manual, State of Missouri(2003-2004): 12-35.

McCandless, Perry. “Alexander McNair,” inLawrence O. Christensen, William E. Foley,Gary R. Kremer, and Kenneth H. Winn, eds.Dictionary of Missouri Biography. Columbia:University of Missouri Press, 1999: 538-540.

_____. A History of Missouri, 1820-1860.Columbia: University of Missouri Press,1972.

The 1860 Election

McPherson, James M. Battle Cry of Freedom:The Civil War Era. New York: Oxford Uni-versity Press, 1986.

Parrish, William E. Turbulent Partnership:Missouri and the Union, 1861-1865. Colum-bia: University of Missouri Press, 1963.

Phillips, Christopher. Missouri’s Confederate:Claiborne Fox Jackson and the Creation ofSouthern Identity in the Border West.Columbia: University of Missouri Press,2000.

The 1904 Election

Brown, A. Theodore, and Lyle W. Dorsett. K. C.:A History of Kansas City, Missouri. Boulder,Colorado: Pruett Publishing Co., 1978.

Geiger, Louis G. Joseph W. Folk of Missouri.Columbia, Missouri: University of MissouriStudies No. 2, 1953.

Miller, William T. “The Progressive Movement inMissouri,” Missouri Historical Review 22(July 1928): 456-501.

Nagel, Paul C. Missouri: A Bicentennial History.New York: W. W. Norton, 1977.

Piott, Steven L. Holy Joe: Joseph W. Folk and theMissouri Idea. Columbia: University ofMissouri Press, 1997.

Renner, G. K. “Prohibition Comes to Missouri,1900-1919,” Missouri Historical Review 62(July 1968): 363-397.

Steffens, Lincoln. The Shame of the Cities. NewYork: Hill and Wang, [1904], 1957.

1945 Constitution

The original records of the 1943-1944 con-stitutional convention are in the Missouri StateArchives.

Bradshaw, William L. “Missouri’s Proposed NewConstitution.” American Political ScienceReview 39 (February 1945): 61-65.

Buyer, Robert E. “The St. Louis Post-Dispatch andthe 1945 Missouri Constitution: A Study ofThis Newspaper’s Coverage and Influence.”Masters thesis, University of Missouri, 1949.

Faust, Martin L. Five Years Under the NewMissouri Constitution: A Progress Report.Jefferson City: Missouri Public ExpenditureSurvey, 1950.

Gabbert, Jack Benton. “The Missouri Constitu-tional Convention of 1943-1944: Calling theConvention and Electing the Delegates.”Master’s thesis, University of Missouri, 1947.

Loeb, Isidor. “The Missouri Constitutional Con-vention.” American Political Science Review18 (February 1924): 18-33.

Schmandt, Henry J. “The Personnel of the1943–1944 Missouri Constitutional Conven-tion.” Missouri Historical Review 45 (3): 235-251.

“Symposium on the Missouri Constitution.”Washington University Law Quarterly 27(April 1942): 309-431.

HISTORY IN HAND: FOUR PIVOTAL MISSOURI ELECTIONS 31

FOUNDATIONS OF MISSOURI:EXPRESSIONS OF ARCHITECTURE

AND THE BUILDING BLOCKS

OF MISSOURIDear Fellow Missourians:

For many of us, the physical foundations of our state pass by unno-ticed. But those frequently underappreciated “brick and mortar”buildings are important parts of our everyday lives. The architectureand structures that surround us help define our lifestyles, affect ourfamilies and reveal the history of our communities.

When we take a moment to examine some of these structures, weoften discover something meaningful or unique. Photographersfrom across the state have taken the opportunity to express theirindividual perspectives by composing the images included in thissection.

I am especially pleased to present to you this special section of the2005-2006 edition of the Official Manual. Our theme for this year’sBlue Book photo contest, “Foundations of Missouri: Expressions ofArchitecture and the Building Blocks of Missouri,” is a tribute tothose Missouri buildings and structures that play a role in our dailylives.

We received a large number of photographs from Missouriansthroughout the state. The photographs show the diverse elements ofcontemporary and historic architecture in Missouri. Choosing thewinners among all of the outstanding entries was extremely diffi-cult. I am grateful to everyone who submitted photos and to the staffmembers who assisted with the selection process.

I hope this collection of photographs will serve as a reminder of theunique beauty and character of the foundations of our state — thestate of Missouri.

Very truly yours,

Secretary’s Choice

Yang Shen — Jefferson CitySpire atop the Missouri State Capitol.

People andArchitecture

Joel West Ray — Cape GirardeauReflections of workers and their work at the Bill Emerson Memorial Bridge.

First Place

John Langholz — St. LouisMissouri Botanical Garden.

Carrie Pierce— Cabool“Sole Provider” sculpture atMissouri Botanical Garden.Presented as a gift to thePeople of the United States, bythe People of Zimbabwe and theChapungu Sculpture Garden, inmemory of 9/11/01.

Second Place

Third Place

Buildings of Industry& Commerce

First Place

Martin Spilker—ColumbiaAmish farmers, near Clark, gathering wheat shocks, threshing and storing

grain in a barn.

Kyle Whiteside —KoshkonongWinfield’s Restaurantsign in Eminence.

Second Place

Third Place

Joel West Ray — Cape GirardeauConstruction workers leave the deck of the Bill EmersonMemorial Bridge at the end of a hard day.

Places of Worship

First Place Michelle Ochonicky—EurekaOld Peace Chapel, at the Daniel Boone Home & Boonesfield Village in

Defiance.

Second Place

Third Place

John Langholz — St. LouisAll Saints Chapel, designed by LouisComfort Tiffany, at the Cathedral Basilica ofSt. Louis.

Erin Cutraro — St. LouisSculpture depicting the TenCommandments in Hebrew atShaare Zedek Synagogue inSt. Louis.

ArchitecturalElements &EmbellishmentsFirst Place John Langholz — St. Louis

Detail of the Soldier's Memorial Military Museum in St.Louis.

Second Place

ThirdPlace

Jane Linders — Maryland HeightsPosts and gates at Lafayette Park in St. Louis.

Danelle Engel— WorthOrnamentalfinial on an oldgrain bin inWorth County.

First Place

Landmarks

Kelly Sanders Smith — Jefferson CityA portion of the Berlin Wall at the Winston ChurchillMemorial in Fulton. The steeple of the 17th century churchof St. Mary Aldermanbury rises in the background.

Second Place

Erica C. Brandel —Jefferson CityShuttlecocks, part of aninstallation in thesculpture garden of theNelson-Atkins Museumof Art in Kansas City.

Sheila HaidWilson —Jefferson CityConstruction ofthe GatewayArch at theJeffersonNationalExpansionMemorial in St.Louis, with “TheOld Cathedral”framed by theconstruction.

Third Place

First Place

Residential

Rebecca Seitz — LexingtonAntebellum Queen Anne style Victorian home in Lexington.

LindaMayes—RepublicCardinal

Second PlaceJane Linders —Maryland HeightsInfrared, black andwhite photo of theHenry Shaw Home atthe Missouri BotanicalGardens in St. Louis.

Matthew Staats —RogersvilleLog home, ChristianCounty.

Third Place

46 OFFICIAL MANUAL

THE GREAT SEAL OF MISSOURI

The Great Seal was designed by Judge Robert William Wells and adopted bythe Missouri General Assembly on January 11, 1822. The center of the state sealis composed of two parts. On the right is the United States coat-of-arms con-taining the bald eagle. In its claws are arrows and olive branches, signifying thatthe power of war and peace lies with the U.S. federal government. On the leftside of the shield, the state side, are a grizzly bear and a silver crescent moon.The crescent symbolizes Missouri at the time of the state seal’s creation, a stateof small population and wealth which would increase like the new or crescentmoon; it also symbolizes the “second son,” meaning Missouri was the secondstate formed out of the Louisiana Territory.

This shield is encircled by a belt inscribed with the motto, “United we stand,divided we fall,” which indicates Missouri’s advantage as a member of theUnited States. The two grizzlies on either side of the shield symbolize the state’sstrength and its citizens’ bravery. The bears stand atop a scroll bearing the statemotto, “Salus Populi Suprema Lex Esto,” which means, “The welfare of the peo-ple shall be the supreme law.” Below this scroll are the Roman numerals for1820, the year Missouri began its functions as a state.

The helmet above the shield represents state sovereignty, and the large staratop the helmet surrounded by 23 smaller stars signifies Missouri’s status as the24th state. The cloud around the large star indicates the problems Missouri hadin becoming a state. The whole state seal is enclosed by a scroll bearing thewords, “The Great Seal of the State of Missouri.” (RSMo 10.060)

State Symbols of Missouri

47STATE SYMBOLS OF MISSOURI

THE STATE FLORAL EMBLEM

On March 16, 1923, a bill wassigned naming the white hawthornblossom the official state floralemblem of Missouri. Known as the“red haw” or “white haw,” thehawthorn (Crataegus) is a memberof the great rose family, whichresembles the apple group. Thehawthorn blossoms have greenish-yellow centers and form in white

clusters. More than 75 species of the hawthorn grow in Missouri, particularly inthe Ozarks. (RSMo 10.030)

THE STATE BIRD

On March 30, 1927, the nativebluebird (Sialia Sialis) became theofficial state bird of Missouri. Thebluebird, considered a symbol ofhappiness, is usually 6½ to 7 inch-es long. While its upper parts arecovered with light blue plumage,its breast is cinnamon red, turningrust-colored in the fall. The blue-bird is common in Missouri fromearly spring until late November. (RSMo 10.010)

THE STATE FLAG

Nearly 100 years after achievingstatehood, Missouri adopted anofficial flag on March 22, 1913.The flag was designed by the lateMrs. Marie Elizabeth WatkinsOliver, wife of former State SenatorR.B. Oliver. The flag consists ofthree horizontal stripes of red,white and blue. These representvalor, purity, vigilance and justice.In the center white stripe is the Missouri coat-of-arms, circled by a blue bandcontaining 24 stars, denoting that Missouri was the 24th state. (RSMo 10.020)

48 OFFICIAL MANUAL

THE STATE SONG

The “Missouri Waltz” became the state songunder an act adopted by the General Assembly onJune 30, 1949. The song came from a melody byJohn V. Eppel and was arranged by Frederic KnightLogan, using lyrics written by J.R. Shannon. Firstpublished in 1914, the song did not sell well andwas considered a failure. By 1939, the song hadgained popularity and six million copies had beensold. Sales increased substantially after MissourianHarry S Truman became president. (RSMo 10.050)

THE STATE TREE

On June 20, 1955, the flower-ing dogwood (Cornus Florida L.)became Missouri’s official tree. Thetree is small in size, rarely growingover 40 feet in height or 18 inchesin diameter. The dogwood sproutstiny greenish-yellow flowers inclusters, with each flower sur-rounded by four white petals. Theparied, oval leaves are olive greenabove and covered with silvery hairs underneath. In the fall, the upper part ofthe leaves turn scarlet or orange and bright red fruits grow on the tree. (RSMo10.040)

THE STATE MINERAL

On July 21, 1967, the mineralgalena was adopted as the officialmineral of Missouri. Galena is themajor source of lead ore, and therecognition of this mineral by thestate legislature was to emphasizeMissouri’s status as the nation’s topproducer of lead. Galena is darkgray in color and breaks into smallcubes. Mining of galena has flour-

ished in the Joplin-Granby area of southwest Missouri, and rich deposits havebeen located in such places as Crawford, Washington, Iron and Reynolds coun-ties. (RSMo 10.047)

49STATE SYMBOLS OF MISSOURI

THE STATE ROCK

Mozarkite was adopted as theofficial state rock on July 21, 1967,by the 74th General Assembly. Anattractive rock, mozarkite appearsin a variety of colors, most pre-dominantly green, red or purple.The rock’s beauty is enhanced bycutting and polishing into orna-mental shapes for jewelry.Mozarkite is most commonlyfound in Benton County. (RSMo 10.045)

THE STATE INSECT

On July 3, 1985, the honeybeewas designated as Missouri’s stateinsect. The honeybee, (ApisMellifera) yellow or orange andblack in color, is a social insectwhich collects nectar and pollenfrom flower blossoms in order toproduce honey. The honeybee iscommon to Missouri and is culti-vated by beekeepers for honeyproduction. (RSMo 10.070)

THE STATE MUSICAL INSTRUMENT

The fiddle became the state’sofficial musical instrument on July17, 1987. Brought to Missouri inthe late 1700s by fur traders andsettlers, the fiddle quickly becamepopular. The instrument was adapt-able to many forms of music,could be played without extensiveformal training and was light andeasy to carry. For generations, thelocal fiddle player was the sole source of entertainment in many communitiesand held a position of great respect in the region. (RSMo 10.080)

50 OFFICIAL MANUAL

THE STATE FOSSIL

The crinoid became the state’sofficial fossil on June 16, 1989,after a group of Lee’s Summitschool students worked throughthe legislative process to promoteit as a state symbol. The crinoid(Delocrinus missouriensis) is a min-eralization of an animal which,because of its plant-like appear-ance, was called the “sea lily.”

Related to the starfish, the crinoid which covered Missouri lived in the oceanmore than 250 million years ago. (RSMo 10.090)

THE STATE TREE NUT

The nut produced by the blackwalnut tree (Juglans Nigra), knownas the eastern black walnut,became the state tree nut on July9, 1990. The nut has a variety ofuses. The meat is used in icecream, baked goods and candies.The shell provides the soft gritabrasive used in metal cleaningand polishing, and oil well drilling.It is also used in paint products and as a filler in dynamite. (RSMo 10.100)

THE STATE ANIMAL

On May 31, 1995, the Missourimule was designated as the officialstate animal. The mule is a hybrid,the offspring of a mare (femalehorse) and a jack (male donkey).After its introduction to the state inthe 1820s, the mule quickly becamepopular with farmers and settlersbecause of its hardy nature. Missourimules pulled pioneer wagons to the

Wild West during the 19th century and played a crucial role in moving troops andsupplies in World Wars I and II. For decades, Missouri was the nation’s premiermule producer. (RSMo 10.110)

51STATE SYMBOLS OF MISSOURI

THE STATE AMERICAN

FOLK DANCE

The square dance was adoptedas Missouri’s official American folkdance on May 31, 1995. Squaredances are derived from folk andcourtship dances brought to theUnited States by European immi-grants. Lively music and callers arehallmarks of square dancing. Thecaller directs the dancers bysinging the names of figures and steps to be performed. (RSMo 10.120)

THE STATE AQUATIC ANIMAL

The paddlefish (PolyodonSpathula) became Missouri’s offi-cial aquatic animal on May 23,1997. Only three rivers in Missourisupport substantial populations ofthe paddlefish: the Mississippi,Missouri and the Osage. They arealso present in some of the state’slarger lakes. The paddlefish isprimitive, with a cartilage skeleton,

rather than bone.They commonly exceed five feet in length and weights of 60pounds; 20-year olds are common, and some live 30 years or more. (RSMo10.130)

THE STATE FISH

On May 23, 1997, the channelcatfish became the official fish ofMissouri. The channel catfish(Ictalurus Punctatus) is slender,with a deeply forked tail. Younghave spots that disappear with age.The catfish does not rely on sightto find its food; instead, it uses cat-like whiskers to assist in the hunt.The channel cat is the most abun-dant large catfish in Missouri streams. Its diet includes animal and plant materi-al. Adults are normally 12 to 32 inches long and weigh from a half-pound to 15pounds. (RSMo 10.135)

52 OFFICIAL MANUAL

THE STATE HORSE

On June 4, 2002, the Missouri foxtrotting horse became Missouri’sofficial state horse. Missouri fox trot-ters were developed in the ruggedOzark hills of Missouri during theearly 19th century. Bloodlines canbe traced from early settlers toMissouri from the neighboring statesof Kentucky, Illinois, Tennessee andArkansas. The distinguishing charac-

teristic of the fox trotter is its rhythmic gait, in which the horse walks with the frontfeet and trots with the hind feet. This gait gives the rider a smooth gentle ride.(RSMo 10.140)

THE STATE GRAPE

On July 11, 2003, theNorton/Cynthiana grape (VitisAestivalis) was adopted as the offi-cial state grape. This adaptable,self-pollinating variety has beencultivated since the 1830s and islikely North America’s oldest grapevariety still commercially grown.Norton/Cynthiana has long beenprized by Missouri vintners for itshardy growth habit and intense flavor characteristics, which produce lush, drypremium red wines of world-class quality and distinction. (RSMo 10.160)

THE STATE DINOSAUR

Hypsibema missouriense is atype of dinosaur called aHadrosaur or “duck billed”dinosaur. It was a herbivore withjaws that contained over 1,000teeth. Hypsibema had evolved spe-cialized teeth to handle the tough,fibrous vegetation of the time.Hypsibema lived in Missouri dur-ing the Late Cretaceous Period.

Hypsibema was first discovered in 1942 by Dan Stewart, near the town of GlenAllen, MO, and became the state’s offical dinosaur on July 9, 2004. (RSMo10.095)

53STATE SYMBOLS OF MISSOURI

MISSOURI DAY

On March 22, 1915, the 48th General Assembly set aside the first Monday inOctober each year as “Missouri Day,” due to the efforts of Mrs. Anna BrosiusKorn, a native Missourian. In 1969, the 75th General Assembly changed thedate to the third Wednesday in October. Missouri Day is a time for schools tohonor the state and for the people of the state to celebrate the achievements ofall Missourians. (RSMo 9.040)

THE STATE AMPHIBIAN

On June 5, 2005, the AmericanBullfrog (Rana catesbeiana)became the official state amphib-ian. The bullfrog is the largest frognative to Missouri and is found inevery county. Most Missourians arefamiliar with the deep, resonant“jug-of-rum” call, which is typical-ly heard on warm, rainy nightsbetween mid-May and early July.The idea for the bullfrog designation came from a fourth grade class at ChinnElementary School in Kansas City. (RSMo 10.170)

OFFICIAL MANUAL54

“Cattle Buyer”(Missouri State Archives, Putman Collection)