Rev. John McGlothlin.
As a specimen of petty local persecution the case of Rev. J. McGlothlin, a worthy local preacher of the M. E. Church, South, who has long stood high in that part of the State where he resides, will be sufficient for this place.
It was with some reluctance that he yielded to the demands of history enough to furnish the following facts. He is a modest man and shrinks from notoriety.
In 1862 he was residing in Ray county, Mo., when Major Biggers, the Commander of the Post at Richmond, issued an order that no minister of the gospel should preach who did not carry with him the Union flag. A few days after the order came out Mr. McGlothlin was called upon to go to Knoxville, Caldwell county, to procure suitable burial clothing for a Mrs. Tilford, a widow, who died in his neighborhood, as he was the only man available for that service. After the purchases were made and he was ready to return, a Captain Tiffin, of Knoxville, stepped up and asked if he had “reported.” He answered in the negative, and convinced the Captain that there was no order requiring him to report, as he had license to preach. Tho officer then asked him if he had a “flag.” He told him he had not. “Will you get one?” “No,” said he, “I will recognize no State or military authority to prescribe qualifications for the work of the ministry.” The officer at once arrested him. Mr. McGlothlin acquainted Capt. Tiffin at once with the peculiar character of his business in Knoxville, and the necessity of his speedy return, offering at the same time his parole of honor to report to him at any time and place he might designate. This he promptly refused, and the officer said that he would ride out a part of the way with him. When they arrived within a few miles of the house where the dead lay waiting interment, the officer pressed a boy into service and sent the burial clothes to their destination, after detaining them three or four hours on the way.
The minister was not released, even to attend the funeral service, but was kept in close confinement, dinnerless, supperless, bedless and comfortless.
The next day, with over twenty others, he was taken to Richmond and confined in the Fair Grounds and in the old College building for five weeks, and then unconditionally released. The only charge they could bring against him was that he would not take the oath of allegiance, give bond in the sum of $1,000 for his good behavior, and buy a flag to carry about with him as an evidence of his loyalty and a symbol of authority to preach the gospel of Jesus Christ.
Few instances of petty persecution in the exercise of a little brief authority can surpass this. It needs no comment, except to add that the minister who was thus made a victim of the narrowest and meanest spitefulness was a high-toned gentleman of unblemished character, against whom even the petty military officers and their spies could never raise an accusation.