But during this period of turmoil General Schofield was wide awake. On June 22d, very soon after these devastating raids began, he issued an order in which he held “rebels and rebel-sympathizers responsible in their property, and, if need be, in their persons, for damages thereafter committed by guerrillas or marauding parties.” And while this had no immediate effect the order was not in vain. It was the precursor of energetic action. On the 22d of July, Governor Gamble authorized the general to organize the entire militia of the State, and to order so much of it into active service, as he should deem necessary to put down all marauders, and to defend the peaceable citizens of the commonwealth. On the same day, Schofield commanded the immediate organization of the militia “for the purpose of exterminating the guerrillas infesting the State.” This difficult work was pushed with great rapidity and was soon effected.

In September, Missouri, Kansas and Arkansas were made a single military district, and over it was put in command General Curtis, with headquarters at St. Louis. General Schofield now took the field. It is important that each army have a name, and the one that he led, made up largely of State militia, was quite appropriately called the “Army of the Frontier.” He moved his forces wisely, and with great energy. He vanquished his enemies in battle, and by October 10th had cleared southwest Missouri of them, and driven them into Arkansas, which was a refuge for rebels worsted in our State. By the close of the month, two able Union colonels had driven all rebel guerrillas from southeast Missouri into the same haven. So ended that memorable guerrilla uprising, and for a season our State was quite generally free from the turmoil of war.

Now we in St. Louis were bound up, as in one bundle, with all that transpired in the State. We learned by manifold experiences that there was a depth of meaning in the phrase, “body politic.” The sensation from a stinging blow on toe or finger is no more certainly conveyed to the brain, than were the distresses in the State quickly felt in our city. When any part of our commonwealth suffered, we suffered. So we realized with ever-increasing clearness that our destiny was one with that of the State at large. Whatever our differences might be, together we should stay in the Union, or together go out of it. So when in June came the unexpected guerrilla uprising, that seemed simultaneously to burst out of the earth in all parts of the commonwealth, it put all St. Louis in an attitude of defence. Most of the army that had been our protection were in the field far to the south. For many months we had had an organization of Home Guards, and now with fresh zeal they gave themselves to military drill. Many hitherto supine joined them. One regiment was made up of old men. To see them in uniform and under arms was an inspiration. Their ranks were full. They marched along the streets with firm, determined tread, their gray hair and white beards speaking eloquently of their devotion and patriotism.

New regiments were formed. I joined one of them. We were drilled on the ground floor of a defunct brewery. There we marched and countermarched and went through with the manual of arms, so that if the city should be attacked we might defend it with some degree of efficiency.

But stirring us up to make more complete preparation for the defence of the city was not the sole outcome of the guerrilla uprising; the devastation wrought by it in the State sent flying to us for succor another swarm of refugees. Fortunately, many of them could care for themselves, still a large contingent were dependent on the government and on private charity for the necessaries of life.

But the saddest result of the ruthless guerrilla campaign was the shutting up for many months of the common schools in nearly every county of the State. Such a calamity was measureless. And while our city schools were undisturbed, we keenly sympathized with our fellow-citizens in the State, and learned anew that, in what was of highest worth, we were kin.

CHAPTER XX
CHARCOALS AND CLAYBANKS

In our hot fight for Missouri and the Union we unhappily split up into factions. We not only contended against secession but against each other. And the warring factions were significantly named Charcoals and Claybanks. The Charcoals taken as a whole were uncompromising radicals, while the Claybanks were the conservatives. Many of the Claybanks had been born and educated in the North, while some of the blackest of the Charcoals had been reared in the midst of slavery. They were recent converts to Unionism and gloried in their new-found faith.

What gave birth to these party names no one can certainly tell. Apparently, like Topsy, they “just growed.” The clay of Missouri is of a decidedly neutral tint. Perhaps an extremist, indignant at a conservative for his colorless views, called him a claybank; and since the name was descriptive, fitting, and easily understood by Missourians, it stuck. The conservative, stung by the epithet, may have warmly retorted, “You are a charcoal.” And that name, equally descriptive and fitting, also stuck. At all events each faction named the other, and each adopted the name hostilely given and gloried in it. And for many months these names bandied by the opposing factions played an important part in the heated controversies of our State.

Both Charcoals and Claybanks were loyal to the Federal government. Upon the main issue, the preservation of the Union, they agreed; but they were at swords’ points upon the statement of the problem in hand and the method of its solution. The Claybanks contended that the foremost question was the maintenance of the Union. They were ready to preserve it either with or without slavery. So their cry was: “Let us first save the Union, and afterwards adjust the matter of slavery.”