The “Witches” Killed at Salem Were Women Who Stepped Out of Line

In The Devil in the Shape of a Woman, historian Carol F. Karlsen argues that established social attitudes toward women in seventeenth-century New England, and earlier centuries in Europe, explain why women were the primary victims of witch hunts in places like Salem, Fairfield, and elsewhere.[1] Indeed, she posits, women who willingly or inadvertently stepped out of line, who violated expected gender norms, were disproportionately likely to be accused in Puritan society. After establishing that roughly 80% of accused persons in New England from 1620 to 1725 were women, and that men represented both two-thirds of accusers and all of those in positions to decide the fates of the accused, Karlsen observes women’s deviant behaviors or states of affairs that drew Puritan male ire.[2] For instance: “Most witches in New England were middle-aged or old women eligible for inheritances because they had no brothers or sons.”[3] When husbands or fathers had no choice but to leave property to daughters and wives, this violated the favored and common patrilineal succession of the era. Further, women who committed the sins of “discontent, anger, envy, malice, seduction, lying, and pride,” which were strongly associated with their sex, failed to behave as proper Christian women and thus hinted at allegiances to the devil, putting them at risk of accusation.[4] The scholar is careful to note, however, that in the historical record accusers, prosecutors, juries, magistrates, and so on did not explicitly speak of such things as evidence of witchcraft.[5] But the trends suggest that concern over these deviations, whether subliminal or considered, played a role in the trials and executions.

Karlsen’s case is well-crafted. Part of its power is its simplicity: a preexisting ideology about women primed the (male and female) residents of towns like Salem to see witches in female form far more often than male. The fifth chapter could be considered the centerpiece of the work because it most closely examines the question of what a woman was — the view of her nature by the intensely patriarchal societies of Europe and how this view was adopted and modified, or left intact, by the Puritans. Christian Europe saw women as more evil than men.[6] They were of the same nature as Eve, who sought forbidden knowledge, betrayed God, and tempted man. Believed to be “created intellectually, morally, and physically weaker,” women were thought to have “more uncontrollable appetites” for sins like the seven above.[7] It is Karlsen’s exploration of this background that is foundational to the argument. If Christians had long seen women as more evil, a notion of witches-as-women in New England would have been a natural outgrowth (America’s early female religious dissenters, among other developments, added fuel to the fire).[8] The fact that associations between women and witchcraft existed in the European mind before the Puritans set foot in North America reinforces this.[9] Karlsen quotes fifteenth- and sixteenth-century writers: “More women than men are ministers of the devil,” “All witchcraft comes from carnal lust, which in women is insatiable,” “Because Christ did not permit women to administer his sacraments…they are given more authority than men in the administration of the devil’s execrations,” and so on.[10] Another penned that middle aged and older women received no sexual attention from men so they had to seek it from the devil.[11]

Indeed, Karlsen’s use of primary sources is appreciable. She extensively cites witchcraft trials in New England and works by ministers such as Cotton Mather, not only as anecdotal evidence but also, alongside public and family records, to tabulate data, primarily to show that women were special targets of the witch hunts and that most had or might receive property.[12] The author leaves little room for disputing that witch hunt victims were not quite model Puritan women, and that the Puritans believed that those who in any way stepped outside their “place in the social order were the very embodiments of evil,” and therefore had to be destroyed.[13] The work is organized along those lines, which is sensible and engaging. But a stumble occurs during a later dalliance with secondary sources.

One piece of the story — appearing on the last couple pages of the last chapter — stands out as underdeveloped. Karlsen posits that the physical ailments the Puritans blamed on possession, such as convulsions and trances, were psychological breaks, a “physical and emotional response to a set of social conditions,” indeed the social order itself.[14] The gender hierarchy and oppressive religious system were, in other words, too much to bear. Karlsen does cite anthropologists that have studied this phenomenon in other societies, where the minds of oppressed peoples, usually women, split from normalcy and enter states that allow them to disengage from and freely lash out at their oppressors, as, Karlsen argues, possessed New England women did.[15] But the causes of physical manifestations are such a significant part of the story that they deserve far more attention, indeed their own chapter (most of Karlsen’s final chapter explores the questions of who was most likely to be possessed, how they acted, and how the Puritans explained the phenomenon, though it is framed as a culturally-created power struggle early on).[16] This would allow Karlsen room to bring in more sources and better connect the New England story to other anthropological findings, and to flesh out the argument. For instance, she writes that convulsions and other altered states would have been “most common in women raised in particularly religious households,” but does not show that this was true for possessed women in New England.[17] How the ten men who were possessed fit into this hypothesis is unclear.[18] Things also grow interpretive, a perhaps necessary but always perilous endeavor: “…in their inability to eat for days on end, [possessed women] spoke to the depths of their emotional hunger and deprivation, perhaps as well to the denial of their sexual appetites.”[19] This is unsupported. In the dim light of speculation and limited attention, other causes of “possession,” such as historian Linnda Caporael’s ergotism theory (convulsions and hallucinations due to a fungus found in rye), remain enticing.[20] Minds are forced to remain open to causes beyond social pressures, and indeed to multiple, conjoining factors. How physical symptoms arose, of course, does not affect the thesis that prior ideology led to the targeting of women. The concern is whether the anthropological theory fit so well with Karlsen’s thesis — the targeting of women and the physical ailments being the results of a repressive society — that she both gravitated toward the latter and did not grant it the lengthier study it warranted.

Overall, Karlsen’s work is important. As she noted in her introduction, prior historians had given little focus to the role of gender in American witch hunts.[21] Their witch hunts had little to do with the suspicions about women’s nature or the dismay over women pushing against the gender hierarchy and religious order. Written in the late 1980s, The Devil in the Shape of a Woman represented a breakthrough and a turning point. It is a must read for anyone interested in the topic.

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[1] Carol F. Karlsen, The Devil in the Shape of a Woman: Witchcraft in Colonial New England (New York: W.W. Norton & Company, 1998), xiii-xiv. See chapter 5, especially pages 153-162, for European origins.

[2] Ibid., 47-48.

[3] Ibid., 117.

[4] Ibid., 119.

[5] Ibid., 153.

[6] Ibid., 155.

[7] Ibid.

[8] Ibid., 127-128 and chapter 6.

[9] Ibid., chapter 5.

[10] Ibid., 155-156.

[11] Ibid., 157.

[12] See for example ibid., 48-49, 102-103.

[13] Ibid., 181.

[14] Ibid., 248-251.

[15] Ibid., 246-247, with anthropologists cited on footnote 69, page 249, and footnote 71, page 251.

[16] Ibid., 231, 246.

[17] Ibid., 250.

[18] Ibid., 224.

[19] Ibid., 250.

[20] Linnda R. Caporael, “Ergotism: The Satan Loosed in Salem?,” Science 192, no. 4234 (1976): 21–26, http://www.jstor.org/stable/1741715.

[21] Karlsen, The Devil, xii-xiii.

Scotty’s Missing Finger

James Doohan’s Montgomery Scott wasn’t often the centerpiece of “Star Trek” storylines, but he could always be counted on to save the day by eking some kind of miracle out of the Enterprise’s transporters or warp engines. Doohan’s performance was lively, and “Scotty” lovable and charismatic, even if the Canadian actor’s for-television accent was once included on the BBC’s list of “Film Crimes Against the Scottish Accent.” According to The Guardian, Doohan based the voice on that of a Scottish soldier he met in World War II.

Indeed, Doohan was a soldier before he had any interest in acting. He joined the Canadian artillery after high school, right as the largest conflict in human history was brewing. He rose to the rank of lieutenant and was sent to Britain to prepare for Operation Overlord, the invasion of Normandy (Valour Canada). Long before Scotty saved Kirk, Spock, and his other comrades from all sorts of alien enemies and celestial phenomena, he led men into the fires of D-Day, June 6, 1944. 

Following a naval and aerial bombardment, Canadian units stormed Juno Beach. James Doohan and his men unknowingly ran across an anti-tank minefield, being too light to detonate the defenses (Snopes). Bullets piercing all around, they reached cover and advanced inland. Doohan made his first two kills of the war by silencing German snipers in a church tower in Graye Sur Mer. 

After securing their positions, Doohan and his troops rested that evening. But just before midnight, everything went wrong for our future chief engineer. Stepping away from the command post for a smoke, on his way back his body was riddled with at least half a dozen bullets. The middle finger of his right hand was torn off, four bullets hit his knee, and one hit his chest, but did minimal injury because it happened to strike the silver cigarette case in his breast pocket. But this was no German attack. It was friendly fire.

According to Valour Canada, James Doohan was shot by a Canadian sentry who mistook him in the night for a German soldier. This sentry has been described as “nervous” and “trigger-happy” (Snopes). Doohan later said that his body had so much adrenaline pumping through it after the shooting that he walked to the medical post without even realizing his knee had been hit.
Doohan survived the incident and the war, moved to the United States, and started acting in 1950 (IMDb). Sixteen years later, after small roles in “Gunsmoke,” “The Twilight Zone,” “The Man from U.N.C.L.E.,” and more, he landed the part that would bring him global fame. According to StarTrek.com, Doohan had a hand double to conceal the missing finger while filming close-ups on “Star Trek.” However, it is still obvious in many shots, stills of which fans have collected, for instance on this Stack Exchange.

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Will the NFL Convert to Flag Football in the Next Century?

A big part of the fun of American football is players smashing into each other. From the gladiatorial spectacles of Rome to today’s boxing, UFC/MMA, and football, watching contestants exchange blows, draw blood, and even kill one another has proved wildly entertaining. I know I have base instincts as well that enjoy, or are at least still engrossed by, brutal sport. I write “at least still” because the NFL has become harder to watch knowing the severe brain damage it’s causing.

This prompts some moral musings. The NFL certainly has the moral responsibility to thoroughly inform every player of the risks (and to not bury the scientific findings, as they once did). If all players understand the dangers, there is probably no ethical burden on them — morality is indeed about what does harm to others, but if all volunteer to exchange CTE-producing blows that’s fine. Beating up a random person on the street is wrong, but boxing isn’t, because it’s voluntary. In a scenario where some football players know the risks but not all, that’s a bit trickier. Is there something wrong about potentially giving someone brain damage who doesn’t know that’s a possibility, when you know? As for fans, is there a moral burden to only support a league (with purchases, viewership, etc.) that educates all its players on CTE? But say everyone is educated; if afterwards the NFL still has a moral duty to make the game safer through better pads and rules to reduce concussions, does it by extension also have the moral duty to end contact and tackles to eliminate concussions? There’s much to think about.

In any case, after head trauma findings could no longer be ignored, the NFL made, and continues to make, rule changes to improve safety (to limited effect thus far). Better helmets, elimination of head-to-head blows, trying to reduce kick returns, banning blindside blocks, and so on. At training camp, players are even wearing helmets over their helmets this year. Though some complain the game is being ruined, and others suggest the NFL is hardly doing enough, all can agree that the trend is toward player safety. Meanwhile, some young NFL players have quit as they’ve come to understand the risks. They don’t want disabilities and early death.

A parallel trend is the promotion of flag football. The NFL understands, Mike Florio notes, that if flag can be popularized all over the world then the NFL itself will become more international and make boatloads more money. It’s not really about safety (except perhaps for children). The organization helped get flag football into the World Games 2022 and promoted the journeys of the U.S. men and women’s teams, and is now trying for the 2028 Olympics. NFL teams have youth flag leagues, and Michael Vick, Chad Ochocinco, and Terrell Owens are playing in the NFL-televised American Flag Football League. The Pro Bowl is being replaced with a skills competition and a flag football game.

Troy Vincent, an NFL vice president, said recently, “When we talk about the future of the game of football, it is, no question, flag. When I’ve been asked over the last 24 months, in particular, what does the next 100 years look like when you look at football, not professional football, it’s flag. It’s the inclusion and the true motto of ‘football for all.’ There is a place in flag football for all.” He was careful to exclude the professional game here, focusing on opening the sport to girls, women, and poorer kids in the U.S. and around the world, but one wonders how long that exception will hold. If current trajectories continue, with a growth of flag and a reduction of ferocity in the NFL, one day a tipping point may be reached. It won’t happen easily if the NFL thinks such a change would cut into its profits, but it’s possible. It may not be in 50 years or 100, but perhaps after 200 or 500.

Changes in sports — the rules, the equipment, everything — may be concerning but should never be surprising. Many years ago, football looked rather different, after all. You know, when you couldn’t pass the ball forward, the center used his foot instead of his hands to snap, the point after was actually four points, you could catch your own punt and keep the ball, etc. The concussion crisis has of course also spurred calls to take the NFL back to pre-1940s style of play, getting rid of helmets and other protections to potentially improve safety. There’s evidence players protect their heads and those of others better when they don’t feel armored and invincible. This is another possible future. However, it’s also a fact that early football was much deadlier, and the dozens of boys and men who died each year playing it almost ended the sport in the early 20th century, so one may not want to get rid of too many modern pads and rules if we’re to keep tackle. An apparent contradiction like this means many factors are at play, and will have to be carefully parsed out. Perhaps a balance can be found — less armor but not too little — for optimal safety.

Though my organized tackle and flag experiences ended after grade school, with only backyard versions of each popping up here and there later on, I always considered flag just as fun to play. And while I think the flag of the World Games is played on far too narrow a field, and both it and the AFFL need field goals, kicks, light-contact linemen, and running backs (my flag teams had these), they’re both fairly entertaining (watch here and here). One misses the collisions and take-downs, but the throws, nabs, jukes, picks, and dives are all good sport. No, it’s not the same, but the future rarely is.

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Why Have There Been Authoritarian Socialist Countries But Not a Democratic Socialist One?

In Christianity and Socialism Both Inspired Murderous Governments and Tyrants. Should We Abandon Both?, we observed the flawed idea that authoritarian socialist nations like the Soviet Union started as democratic socialist societies. By recognizing that socialism since its inception has existed in different forms advocated by different people (bottom-up, democratic, peaceful vs. top-down, authoritarian, violent), just like Christianity and other religions past and present (peaceful missionary work, coexistence, and church-state separation vs. violent conquest, forced conversion, and authoritarian theocracy), and by looking at history, the slippery slope argument disintegrated.

The societal changes socialists push for have already been achieved, in ways large and small, without horrors all over the world, from worker cooperatives to systems of direct democracy to universal healthcare and education, public work programs guaranteeing jobs, and Universal Basic Income (see Why America Needs Socialism). These incredible reforms have occurred in democratic, free societies, with no signs of Stalinism on the horizon. The slippery slope fallacy is constantly applied to socialism and basically any progressive policy (remember, racial integration is communism), but it doesn’t have any more merit than when it is applied to Christianity [i.e. peaceful missionary work always leading to theocracy]. Those who insist that leaders and governments set out to implement these types of positive socialistic reforms but then everything slid into dictatorship and awfulness as a result basically have no understanding of history, they’re just completely divorced from historical knowledge. Generally, when you actually study how nations turned communist, you see that a Marxist group, party, or person already deeply authoritarian achieved power and then ruled, expectedly, in an authoritarian manner, implementing policies that sometimes resemble what modern socialists call for but often do not (for example, worker ownership of the workplace is incompatible with government ownership of the workplace; direct democratic decision-making is incompatible with authoritarian control; and so forth). It’s authoritarians who are most likely to use violence in the first place; anti-authoritarians generally try to find peaceful means of creating change, if possible. (Which can take much longer, requiring the built consensus of much of the citizenry. This is one reason authoritarian socialist countries exist but no true democratic socialist society. It’s quicker to just use force. The latter needs more time.)

Note that citations are provided in the original article. Now, all this was worth a bit more commentary. If you can show someone that, despite some socialistic reforms, there hasn’t been a democratic socialist (libertarian socialist, market socialist) nation yet in human history, only authoritarian socialist (communist) ones, that there was no devolution from one to the other, the next question is Why? Why has communism existed and succeeded, with State control of all workplaces, the abolition of the market, and totalitarianism, but not democratic socialism, where workers control their workplaces, the government offers universal healthcare, education, and jobs or income, and citizens enjoy participatory democracy?

The answer was touched upon at the end of the quote above. It’s about time and values. All this is a bit like asking why there hasn’t been a Mormon theocracy yet, or a nation with Mormonism as its official religion, or a country with a majority Mormon population (saying Tonga is majority LDS is a bit of a stretch). Mormonism, a sect of Christianity, began in the 1830s, at the same time socialism was born under Robert Owen, Saint-Simon, Fourier, and others (Marx was still a boy). There hasn’t been a nation with a (serious) majority Mormon citizenry because it hasn’t grown popular enough over the past 200 years. There has never been an LDS theocracy or an officially LDS nation because 1) the belief system has yet to become popular enough, or 2) there has been no group that has overthrown existing power structures through violence or been willing to use force and oppression after legitimately ascending to power. The same can be said of democratic socialism — neither option has occurred as of this moment. In contrast, number 2 was reached by authoritarian socialist leaders and groups, even if number 1 wasn’t beforehand. (Unlike Mormonism, traditional Christianity had both enough time and the right ideologues to achieve both high popularity in some places and to violently crush anyone who stood in its way in others. So did Islam.) This all makes a great deal of sense. As noted, if authoritarians are more likely to use violence, they have a fast-track to power. To the ability to swiftly enact societal transformations. And without the consensus of the population, they may have to rule with an iron fist to get everyone in line.

Radicals who are not authoritarian socialists, and are less likely to use force to get what they want (again, what they want is something rather different), have no such shortcut. The Frenchman Ernest Lesigne wrote in his 1887 poem “The Two Socialisms” that one socialism “has faith in a cataclysm,” whereas the other “knows that social progress will result from the free play of individual efforts.” Most democratic socialists have little interest in cataclysmic violent revolution; at most, only a great nonviolent national strike. Instead, they must educate the populace, change the minds of the majority. They must push for reforms. It takes far longer, but — not that democratic socialists desire this either — you won’t have to rule by terror when it’s all over. A slow, peaceful transition not only wins but requires the consent of the governed. And as mentioned in the beginning of the quote, this metamorphosis is underway. Places like Canada, Japan, New Zealand, and Europe are moving away from free market capitalism and toward social democracy, which is a stepping stone to democratic socialism. America has drifted as well, though not as far. If a couple centuries is not enough, we’ll see where we’re at in 500 years or 1,000. There is no magic number, no predictable date of victory. Just because democratic socialism hasn’t happened yet does not mean it won’t, nor does this fact discredit the idea — Mormonism is not untrue or bad because it is not yet hugely popular, any more than embryonic Christianity in A.D. 100. Capitalism took a very long time to become the dominant world system, replacing feudalism. The full realization of the next stage will experience the same.

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The Massive Gap in Our Understanding of Why KC Doesn’t Control Its Own Police Department

The local press has produced various articles on why Kansas City does not control its own police department, with mixed explanatory success. The fact that the governor of Missouri selects almost the entirety of the KC board of police commissioners, whereas all other cities in the state form their own boards, no doubt inspires many confused and angry internet searches. Local control is step one of police reform here — the KCPD will not reform itself, and the deeply conservative state legislature will be of no assistance; both these bodies are desperate to keep control out of the hands of the relatively progressive city council. Pieces on how this absurd state of affairs came to be offer valuable information, but what is also needed is an article on what we don’t know. This is admittedly risky, as it’s possible someone knows the answers to the nagging questions herein, but if that’s the case then his or her historical research is itself difficult to find, or at least it has been for me.

Some articles, such as the one from FOX 4, only speak of 1930s Kansas City and the need to wrest police control away from mob boss Tom Pendergast. The Beacon focuses solely on this, yet notes that first Pendergast had to weasel control away from the state, without further comment. More outlets barely seem to realize that the Pendergast story is less important if Kansas City had state control before that; The Pitch and KCUR write that state management began in 1874, when the KCPD was first formed, but still focus on 1932-1939, when Tom ran it. The Star does a little better, explaining that during the Civil War, Missouri was one of the slave states that did not join the Confederacy, but sought to prevent arms and munitions in St. Louis from being used for Union purposes by seizing control of the St. Louis police department (local control was given back in 2013). The same set-up — a governor-decided board — was then used for Kansas City in 1874.

Little more is said, though this isn’t fully the fault of the journalists. It could be that no historian, professional or amateur, has researched the circumstances of 1874. Why was the St. Louis model used for Kansas City? Who were the key players? What motivated them to take their positions, whether for or against? And many other questions. Journalists typically have little time to turn around a story; if historians haven’t done the work, which can take weeks, months, or years, the article may not be properly fleshed out. This explains the focus on Pendergast and St. Louis — that’s the information available.

Some may be satisfied with the knowledge that KC’s state of affairs has its roots in St. Louis’. That is all that’s needed, after all, to show a link between American white supremacy (the desire to aid the Confederacy, which sought to preserve slavery, by controlling armories) and our lack of local control. This connection is being used in the crucial legal push to reestablish local power. (I will never forgive FOX 4 in that last link, by the way, for its headline “Woman Sues KC Police Board,” as if Gwen Grant, president of the Urban League, was a complete nobody, like some “Woman Eaten By an Alligator in Florida.” Try “Activist,” “Organizer,” “ULKC President” or something.) That historical link is undeniable, but it bothers the historian, and probably a lot of readers, that no further context is available. We want to know more. Say, for example, that those who pushed for state control of KC forces in the 1870s had their own reasons that related to race. Clearly, the Civil War had been over for a decade, but what if — and this is completely made up — they thought the state would be better than the city at keeping black officers off the force? This would be important to know for its own sake, significantly altering the meaning of state control of our police, but could also service the campaign to correct the problem. It would make any “rooted in racism” statement even more powerful; it’s a much more direct connection. Alternatively, of course, there could be an entirely different context. What if — and this is again imaginary — the intentional modeling of KC’s board on St. Louis’ was far less nefarious. Perhaps there were good intentions, even if one disagrees with the policy. Getting control of the police away from the mob in the 1930s might be a later example of this. Maybe the 1874 decision was likewise independent of racial questions. Or what if the city council was so racist someone wanted outside control? We can imagine anything we want, because we don’t know. (Uncovering a more benign motive would certainly be used against the campaign — knowledge, as much as we crave and cherish it, can come with a cost.)

The assumption seems to be that what happened in 1874 was due to mere precedent. In other words, St. Louis had a governor-appointed board of police commissioners, so it was decided KC should be the same without much thought. This is entirely possible, but without further research it could be entirely wrong.

So let’s examine what we do know of the events. We know that in 1874, representative James McDaniels introduced House Bill 866, entitled “An act creating a board of police commissioners, and authorizing the appointment of a permanent police force for the City of Kansas.” Formation and outside administration came at the same time. This language is identical to the act passed for St. Louis in the Civil War era. H.B. 866 (which one can read in its entirety here) passed easily, 92-10. In the Missouri senate, it was then called up by Senator John Wornall, a name Kansas Citians will recognize if they’ve ever driven down a certain road. In that chamber, the vote was 21-0 in favor. This is in contrast to the St. Louis bill, passing 50-32 and 24-8, with plenty of debate, as The Star documented.

Who was James McDaniels? An 1874 book offering short biographies on the members of the Missouri legislature described him as “about twenty-seven years of age” and a native of Vermont. He was a real estate agent in Kansas City, and one of three representatives from Jackson County. The book describes him as a “progressive Democrat,” which marks him as a reformer. Progressives of the late 19th (and early 20th) century tended to seek government solutions to the problems wrought by industrialization and urbanization, like poverty, political machines (that’s what Pendergast had later), and corporate power. A progressive advocating a police force, state-controlled no less, could only be thought of as odd in the context of today’s sensibilities and meanings. With cities growing rapidly, and slums and crime a problem, a larger, more organized police force would have been seen as a fine way to create a better society, at least by someone like McDaniels. However, without more information, we simply do not know McDaniels’ true motives. Overall, his time in the legislature was brief; he was elected in 1872, served for a couple years, got H.B. 866 passed his final year, and disappeared.

What of the ten who voted against the bill? There were two representatives from St. Louis, Truman A. Post and Joseph T. Tatum. There was James B. Harper, Radical Republican from Putnam County, who fought for the Union in the Missouri militia. And there was the second representative from Jackson County, Republican Stephen P. Twiss (our third representative did not vote). Twiss grew up poor in Massachusetts but eventually became a lawyer and served in that state’s legislature, according to his (much longer) biography in the 1874 text. It is carefully noted that he “voted for the Hon. Charles Sumner in his second election to the United States Senate” (this was when legislators, not ordinary voters, chose U.S. senators). Sumner was head of the Radical Republicans, the anti-slavery advocates. Twiss moved to Kansas City after the Civil War and, after losing to the Democrat Wornall in a race for Missouri senate, was elected to the Missouri house. Why was Twiss against the bill (so fiercely he tried to repeal it in 1875), when McDaniels and Wornall were for it? As before, note that Republicans shooting down a police force and/or state control must not be thought of as strange here — Republicans and Democrats were very different ideologically in past centuries compared to the modern parties. Overall, eight Republicans voted No, alongside two Democrats. Other Republicans joined the mostly Democratic legislature to pass H.B. 866. So maybe that hints at something. Those generally against the bill were Republicans, who were generally against slavery. But whether the bill had any motives connected to post-war racial politics, we do not know.

I had hoped to offer more information than just the key players, but it became clear rather quickly that this would require weeks, months, or years. Perhaps I will circle back to this if I have the time and energy for such a project. So many vital questions linger — we still know next to nothing. Why did McDaniels base his bill on St. Louis’? Was it mere precedent and ease? “That’s how it was done before, and how it passed before, so why not?” Or were there political motives? Did the city council agree with the legislation? Did the more primitive police forces that existed before the formation of the KCPD, such as the sheriff and deputies, agree with it? Why did Twiss vote against it and try to have it repealed? Was he against a police force itself, against state control, or both? Or did he dislike some other aspect of the plan? Why did the third Jackson County rep, James R. Sheley, abstain from voting? Why did two St. Louis legislators vote Nay? Did they sympathetically oppose state power over another police force, frustrated by their own city’s experience, or was there another reason? Why did Republicans oppose the legislation? Does a large majority voting for the bill in both chambers mean there wasn’t much debate on it?

To answer these questions, one must put on the historian’s helmet. We’ll have to track down the journals and diaries of all those actors, in historical archives or by finding their descendants. Newspapers from the 1870s will have to be located and studied in the archives for stories of these votes and debates. We’ll need more government records, if they exist. And did any secondary sources, such as books, comment on these things later? These are huge ifs — even if these items were created, they may not have survived nearly 150 years. McDaniels, perhaps the most important person in the story, does not appear to have been a man of prominence, and will likely prove difficult to study. Twiss is a bit easier to find, as he became a judge and ran for KC mayor (and in the 1850s may have helped found the Republican Party). His (theoretical) documents could have been better preserved. Wornall’s, too. Hopefully this writing aids whoever undertakes this endeavor, whether my future self or someone else.

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