Now if we ask in what direction at the beginning of the war, the press of St. Louis threw its influence, we see that taken as a whole, like the pulpit, it was double-tongued. Some journals were for and some against secession. Some were vacillating, at times both for and against—they blew both hot and cold; some were simply bewildered; some half-apologized for the rebellion; some were lost in the fog of State sovereignty. The editors on either side of the national question, and those on the fence, were doubtless honest; nevertheless their varied and discordant voices confused the public mind. It was not strange that the people were divided. They listened to a divided pulpit; they read the deliverances of a divided press. But while amid this din of antagonistic voices some were confused, many in downright earnestness began to think for themselves, and in spite of the clashing utterances of the pulpit and the press, at last thought themselves out of the mist into the clear light of day. CHAPTER IX DECISION AND DIVISION As soon as Camp Jackson had been taken, and the panic which so closely followed it was over, a new spirit pervaded the entire community. Those who had been halting between Unionism and secession felt almost irresistibly impelled to decide with which party they would act. And those who from the start had quietly but firmly allied themselves with the one or the other, and for prudential reasons had refrained from declaring their political faith, now felt constrained to show their true colors. The process of open alignment was rapid. Society seemed to be suddenly transformed. We felt as though we had been transported in a state of unconsciousness to another world and when there had waked up in astonishment, gazing upon new and strange scenes. At first some thought that the celerity with which men were being converted to Unionism was marvellous; but in this they were deceived. There were, to be sure, many striking political conversions, but in the vast majority of cases, what amazed observers was not conversion, but a frank and open declaration of principles that up to that hour had been secretly held. Almost everybody seemed to be confessing his political faith. The star-spangled banner which, out of deference to the feelings of secession neighbors, had been so long concealed, began to be hung out from the balconies and windows of public buildings and private dwellings. It now waved from the cupolas of schoolhouses and even from the steeples of some of the churches. Union teamsters decked their mules and horses with it. Little children on their way to school, or playing in the streets, carried it. Just as sometimes in the spring the sudden coming of the warm sunshine and showers stars the cherry and apple trees all over with blossoms, so our city, so long bannerless, all at once bloomed with the Stars and Stripes. Badges made of strips of red, white and blue were also