“That hereafter, in this State, there shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except in punishment of crime, whereof the party shall have been duly convicted; and all persons held to service or labor as slaves are hereby declared free.”

The hall was packed with spectators; and when the almost unanimous vote for this ordinance was announced by the president they broke out into loud applause; they swung hats, waved handkerchiefs, stamped, clapped their hands and cheered. The president cried, “Order, order,” pounded with his gavel and called on the sergeant-at-arms to suppress the exultant uproar; but every effort was futile; he might as well have attempted to still a hurricane by pounding on a board with a gavel and by threatening it with an attack by one man armed. And how foolish it was to try. For many years men in that shouting crowd had longed for that hour; they had often feared that they should die without the sight. And now that it had come in such unexpected ways their joy must have vent. And in spite of all efforts to quiet them they continued to cheer until they were exhausted. No wonder. The event that excited them was great and significant. More than a hundred thousand slaves were in a moment made freemen and the greatest obstacle to the progress of Missouri was swept out of the way.

When at last the glad cries of the onlooking throng died away, Dr. Eliot was called upon to voice the gratitude of all present by returning thanks to Almighty God. He came to the president’s desk and from a full heart poured out in tremulous tones this fitting petition:

“Most merciful God, before whom we are all equal, we look up to thee who hast declared thyself our Father and our helper and our strong defence, to thank thee that thou art no respecter of persons, to thank thee that thou didst send Jesus Christ into the world to redeem the world from sin, and that he was the friend of the poor, that he came to break the manacles of the slaves, ‘that the oppressed might go free.’ We thank thee that this day the people of this State have had grace given them to do as they would be done by. We pray that thy blessing may rest upon the proceedings of this Convention, that no evil may come to this State from the wrong position of those who do not agree with the action of to-day, but that we, all of us, may be united to sustain this which is the law of the land. We pray, O God! but our hearts are too full to express our thanksgiving! Thanks be to God for this day that light has now come out of darkness, that all things are now promising a future of peace and quietness to our distracted State. Grant that this voice may go over the whole land until the Ordinance of Emancipation is made perfect throughout the States. We ask it through the name of our dear Lord and Redeemer. Amen.”

This prayer was followed by some moments of reverent silence; the hearts of all present had been deeply touched. Then the hush that had fallen alike on delegates and spectators was reluctantly broken. In subdued tones a motion was offered that the Ordinance of Emancipation be engrossed on parchment, attested by the secretary and signed by the members of the Convention. This was unanimously adopted.

Without a moment’s delay, it was moved and carried that a duly authenticated copy of the Ordinance be sent by special messenger to the Governor of the State, at Jefferson City, and that he be requested to issue a proclamation to the people of the commonwealth, apprising them that, “by the irrevocable action of the Convention, slavery is abolished in the State of Missouri, now and forever.”

The Convention, being in no mood to take up other business, adjourned till the next day. But the report of what they had done had already spread through the whole city. It outran the newsboys who were soon vociferously hawking on every street the extras that had been quickly sent forth from the newspaper presses. All business for the rest of the day was suspended. The joyful peal of bells from tower and steeple struck every ear. Crowds spontaneously gathered on the streets. They eagerly rehearsed and animatedly discussed what the Convention had done. Most approved it; a few condemned it. Public buildings and most private dwellings quickly hung out in profusion the national banner, and when night came hundreds of buildings were illuminated. There was a carnival of joy.

The negroes filled their churches, sang songs of deliverance, and poured out their quaint thanksgiving to God that the day for which they had so long sighed had come. As their leaders prayed, those in the pews, swaying their bodies back and forth, cried: “Bress de Lawd, Amen, Glory, Hal’luah, We’s free.” To them it was the day of days. Their year of jubilee had come. They shouted, and sang their touching melodies till long after midnight.

But our picture would be far from complete without a glance at the capital of the State. Before the special messenger, bearing the Ordinance of Emancipation, had reached Jefferson City, the telegraph had anticipated both him and his message. The legislature was in session. On receipt of the news, business was at once suspended and the members of both houses, with rare exceptions, gave themselves up to rejoicing. By a resolution enthusiastically adopted, Colonel Jameson of St. Louis, Mr. Kützner of Hannibal, and Mr. Doan of Grundy were invited to sing “John Brown.” Standing in front of the speaker’s desk they sang it amid hearty applause, the members of the legislature joining in the chorus, “Glory, glory Hallelujah.” When the legislature adjourned, there were several spontaneous gatherings of the citizens of Jefferson City. These meetings were addressed by the ablest speakers residing at the capital; also by some members of the legislature, and by the Congressman of the district. National banners were run up on all public buildings, and out from the windows of most of the private houses; bells rang, bands played, and in the evening tar barrels were burned in the streets, while every window-pane of the Capitol seemed to be illuminated. The trees and the neighboring hills caught up the light and seemed to rejoice with the city; reminding many of the rapt words of the prophet; “The mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands.”

On the same day, January 11th, as “requested” by the Convention, Governor Fletcher, reciting the Ordinance of Emancipation, proclaimed to all the inhabitants of the commonwealth “that henceforth and forever no person within the jurisdiction of this State shall be subject to any abridgement of liberty, except such as the law may prescribe for the common good, or know any master but God.”