Alexander Doniphan
Goes to Court

This article is reprinted with permission from the new book The Will of Missouri: The Life, Times and Influence of Alexander Doniphan. The book was a community history project organized by the Alexander Doniphan Committee and published by Woodneath Press, an imprint of the Mid-Continent Public Library. The book contains articles and contributions from 18 contributors exploring Doniphan’s life and influence and was endorsed by the State Historical Society of Missouri as one of the many projects to help celebrate Missouri’s 2021 Bicentennial.

Former US Sen. John Danforth, in the book’s foreword, observes:

“So when politicians encourage tribalism, when they say we should act against Muslims or Mexicans or any other group, it’s up to us to follow the example of Alexander Doniphan when he refused the order to execute the Mormons - to insist that we’re not going to do that, we’re not going to be like that. We come from many different lands, and we are of different races and religions, and we are all Americans. That’s what makes us great, and that’s what makes us proud.”

What follows is one of several excellent contributions exploring Doniphan’s extraordinary life.

By J. Bradley Pace

Some years ago, as a newly minted young lawyer, I traveled to Richmond, Missouri for a court appearance. Arriving a bit early, I took the opportunity to look around the courthouse grounds. I quickly came across an impressive larger-than-life statue of Alexander William Doniphan. I was vaguely aware he had been a lawyer and military figure, but that was about it. So, I stopped to read the inscriptions found on the brass plaques at the base of the statue:

Front plaque

In honor of Alexander W. Doniphan. Commander of First Regiment Missouri Mounted Volunteers. Born Mason County, Kentucky, July 9, 1808. Died Richmond, Missouri, August 8, 1887. On the roster of the great soldiers of the earth must always stand in a halo of glory the name of Colonel Alexander W. Doniphan of Missouri.

Rear plaque

Colonel Doniphan was of immense stature, noble appearance, brilliant parts, fearless, of great moral courage, sanguine, faithful, just, poetic in temperament, the champion of the downtrodden, eloquent beyond description, and without doubt entitled to be classed among the greatest orators and lawyers that ever lived.

Even allowing for the flattery sometimes found on statues, the inscriptions are an amazing tribute. I felt the urge to learn more about any man who could garner such praise. I would have been even more impressed had I known that over 20,000 people gathered on the Richmond square in 1918 for the unveiling of his state-commissioned statue.It is daunting to approach the study of a life as rich as Doniphan’s. Much has been written, with more to follow. There are, of course, numerous archives and museums with artifacts to help us understand his accomplishments. These are essential, but we can also learn from some relics not found in museums. Scattered across Missouri, in town squares from the Ozarks to the banks of the Mississippi, are nineteenth century county courthouses we can visit today. These structures were built during Doniphan’s legal career, yet have survived to become a part of our modern world. They are a tangible link to Missouri’s past. After well over one hundred years of service, each surviving building has a story to tell.

After studying law for two years, Doniphan was admitted to the Kentucky bar in 1829, at the tender age of twenty-one. The following year he headed west to Missouri to seek his fortune in the law. He would practice law in Missouri for the remainder of his life. He first settled in Lexington, before moving on to Liberty just three years later. In 1846, Doniphan answered the call of duty and joined the First Missouri Mounted Volunteer Regiment, leading their legendary expedition to Mexico. In 1847, he returned to Liberty to resume his law practice. There he continued to hone his legendary talents for oratory. The outbreak of the Civil War in 1861 caused Doniphan to relocate to St. Louis. Following the war, he moved again, this time setting up practice in Richmond, where he remained until his death in 1887.

Over the course of his long career as a prominent Missouri lawyer, Doniphan would have appeared in courtrooms all across the state. Lawyers in his day would sometimes follow a judge around a judicial circuit, which would typically involve several counties. Although known as a defense lawyer, most nineteenth century lawyers would have, for reasons of economic necessity, handled a variety of cases—from a contract dispute on one day, to a will or criminal matter the next. During his forty-six years of practice, Doniphan would have become a familiar courthouse figure.

The county courthouses in which Doniphan appeared were designed and built with pride. In the age before the automobile, people spent most of their lives within the confines of their county limits. A grand courthouse was proof of the greatness of the county, and a source of satisfaction for civic boosters. A courthouse might include elaborate ornamentation, or classical Romanesque or Greek design elements. Often they were topped with a large dome or costly clock tower. When first constructed, many were the most architecturally significant building in their county, and some remain so still.

Cities and towns competed vigorously for the coveted status of county seat. County government, traditionally housed in the courthouse, included school boards, tax commissions, roads, and other public offices. Legal actions, both large and small, would play out daily in the courthouse. All this additional traffic meant a bustling and prosperous town square, with the courthouse located right at the center. Communities were literally and figuratively built around their courthouses. Although somewhat diminished by today’s interstate highways, county seats historically served as market centers and transportation hubs.

The courthouses in which Doniphan appeared most often would have been in Clay County (Liberty), and Ray County (Richmond). Unfortunately, both of these structures were demolished and replaced long ago. The courthouse in Liberty stood from 1857 to 1934. The Richmond Courthouse lasted even longer. The temple design of the Richmond Courthouse, similar in appearance to the courthouse in Lafayette County, opened in 1856. It was used by the court until 1914, when it was purchased by the United Mine Workers. They then proceeded to move the entire structure to make way for the new courthouse. The 1856 courthouse lasted until it fell into disrepair and was finally razed in the 1960s. While these historic buildings are lost, we can still see and visit other nineteenth century courthouses where Doniphan could have appeared.

Doniphan would almost certainly have appeared on behalf of clients in nearby Lafayette County, named for Revolutionary War hero General Lafayette. Its courthouse was erected in 1847, and sits at the center of the charming town of Lexington. A fine example of pre–Civil War architecture, it features four massive sandstone, Ionic unfluted columns said to have been produced in a quarry near Warrensburg. Originally the courthouse cupola did not include a clock, which was added in 1886. Its interior boasts pressed tin ceilings and paintings of early Lafayette County.

Doniphan would recognize the building’s most celebrated feature—a cannon ball embedded in the east column. The ball, now held in place with an iron rod, is said to have struck the column during the siege and Battle of Lexington, September 18 to 21, 1861. During the battle, Confederate General Sterling W. Price defeated the Union forces under Colonel J. A. Mulligan. Prior to the battle, Union troops occupied Lexington and prevented Missouri State Guard forces north and south of the Missouri River from uniting. The Confederate victory broke the Union barricade. As a strong Unionist, Doniphan would have followed news of this battle closely, and mourned the result.

Today a plaque on the Lafayette County Courthouse heralds it to be the oldest in continuous use west of the Mississippi! Residents of Jackson County may take some exception to this claim since the Independence Courthouse was completed a few years earlier in 1838, based on a foundation laid ten years earlier. The Jackson County Courthouse has been substantially remodeled and expanded multiple times. During its major 1933 remodeling, overseen by Presiding Judge Harry Truman, court sessions were temporarily relocated to the 1827 log courthouse. This pause gives rise to the claim by Lafayette County as the oldest courthouse in continuous use. No doubt Colonel Doniphan would be impressed with the appearance of the Jackson County Courthouse today, with its 1933 remodeling inspired by Independence Hall in Philadelphia. Although he would not recognize the building now, parts of the original structure are still visible in the second-floor courtroom and in the attic.

During the Civil War, Clay County held definite Southern sympathies. With his strong Unionist leanings, Doniphan was likely at odds with many of his neighbors and clients. This would have influenced his decision to relocate to St. Louis in 1862, where he found work as a lawyer with the Missouri Claims Commission dealing with pension claims for war refugees. It is likely he had occasion to appear in the St. Louis County Courthouse, the grandest ever built in Missouri. This cruciform, Greek Revival–style building was constructed around an existing 1828 Federal-style courthouse, and was completed in sections from 1839 to 1862. Its massive 128 ton cast-iron dome was the last major construction phase, from 1860 to 1861. This Italian Renaissance dome was modeled after St. Peter’s Basilica in Rome. Sturdy cast-iron stairways in use for well over a century can be found throughout the courthouse. For all its extravagance, the building’s most novel feature may have been its public restrooms, said to be the first ones west of the Mississippi.

During its years as the seat of justice for St. Louis County, a wide range of landmark events occurred within the courthouse’s limestone walls. It played a key role in the escalation of tensions between the North and South when in 1847 and 1850, Dred Scott sued for his freedom from slavery. When the decision against Scott was upheld by the US Supreme Court in 1857, abolitionists and states’ rights advocates were irretrievably polarized. Doniphan would have closely followed this court case since although he strongly supported the Union, he was also a slave owner. Two years later, St. Louis area resident Ulysses S. Grant appeared at the courthouse to legally free his only slave. Slave auctions, however, continued to be held on the courthouse steps until 1861. These sales occurred as part of the settlement process for probate estates. Another early civil rights event occurred at the St. Louis courthouse when in 1872, it was the site of suffragist Virginia Louisa Minor’s unsuccessful voting rights suit. Today known as the “Old St. Louis Courthouse,” it is part of the Gateway Arch National Park, and is operated by the National Park Service.

The next courthouse on our state-wide tour is in New London, Ralls County, north from St. Louis. This structure was completed in 1858, and features a Greek Revival–style façade with a four columned front portico. Today it appears much as it did in Doniphan’s time. Its second-floor courtroom is well known among Missouri lawyers for its superior acoustics. This Stradivarius of courtrooms would have suited Doniphan’s legendary talent for oratory. Lacking modern technology, its fine acoustical quality is achieved by insulating the courtroom walls with sawdust, with the back wall being curved. This arrangement would have perfectly captured the rich timbre and pitch of Doniphan’s strong voice.

If Doniphan ever made a court appearance in Moniteau County, California, Missouri, he would have been impressed with the building’s symmetry. Its design follows the classic revival–style, and is influenced by the Missouri state capital building. The front façade features a two-story semi-circular portico, with two full brick columns and two half columns, all round and in Corinthian style. White pine woodwork and 24-paned windows add to the overall elegant appearance. Residents of Moniteau County (derived from the French spelling of the Algonquin Indian word, manito, meaning spirit) were rightfully proud of this structure when it was completed in 1868. To celebrate, they held a grand ball in the courtroom. Decades later, the party was still news when in 1937 the California Democrat, described the ball as a county social event without peer. Presumably invitations were sent far and wide, with the attendees being a who’s who in the state. Each male attendant paid $2.50 which entitled him and a female guest to four regular meals and the ball supper. On the first day of festivities, partygoers began to arrive by foot or horseback around noon. Immediately after lunch, the ball officially opened. It is reported to have continued unabated for the next twenty-four hours. Dancing and merrymaking were the order of the day, and night! The courtroom hosted, at alternate times, up to twenty-four couples dancing the cotillion, or three double lines for the Virginia reel. We will never know if the revelers included Doniphan, but his celebrity status certainly warranted an invite.

Today a courthouse might seem a bizarre place to hold a ball, but Moniteau County was not alone in this practice. When the Platte County Courthouse in Platte City was completed in 1867, a Valentine’s Day ball featuring a dance and carousel was held in the courtroom. At this time, Doniphan was living in the not-too-distant Richmond. As a prominent and socially active Missouri lawyer, he certainly could have been invited. His high regard would have ensured a full dance card!

The attention paid to a new courthouse reflected their importance in nineteenth century life. When in 1873, St. Joseph in Buchanan County held cornerstone ceremonies for its new courthouse, the festivities featured speakers and a large parade with a brass band. Numerous items were sealed in the cornerstone, including newspapers, coins, and photographs. Thousands of onlookers listened patiently through many speeches. The master of ceremonies announced to the crowd that the courthouse should promote harmony and brotherly love. Colonel John Doniphan (no relation to Alexander W. Doniphan), elaborated that it should be a place where the scales of justice would be evenly held.

At the time of its construction, the Buchanan County Courthouse was the largest in the state outside St. Louis, with a center dome rising 145 feet from ground level. Its rich history includes the arraignment and sentencing of the Ford brothers, who killed Jesse James. Tempted by a $10,000 reward offered by the express and railroad companies, and the State’s promise of immunity, Charley and Bob Ford shot and killed Jesse in St. Joseph on April 3, 1882. James had been living in St. Joseph since 1881. Unfortunately for the Ford brothers, the prosecuting attorney for Buchanan County insisted on prosecuting them. At the arraignment the Fords pled guilty. Both were sentenced to be hanged. One month prior to their execution, Governor Crittenden pardoned the two men, who were eventually able to collect their reward money. As a man of the law, Doniphan must have viewed with concern this messy chronology of events. Ironically, controversy still exists as to the true identity of the individual killed by the Fords that day in 1882.

The cornerstone ceremony held on October 8, 1888 for the new Barton County Courthouse in Lamar was a countywide celebration. Events included a parade headed by the Lamar Band, followed by the Masonic order, and area schools. The parade marched around the town square before entering a park where the official program began. Among the items sealed in the cornerstone include corn, wine, oil, coins, newspapers, the Holy Bible, and a copy of the constitution.

A good example of a building commissioned to achieve more than mere functionality is the courthouse in Maryville, Nodaway County. Completed in 1882, it was designed by the prominent architect and French native Edmond Eckel, a graduate of the Ecole des Beaux Arts in Paris. It features Romanesque motifs, ornamental stonework, and an elegant clocktower reaching 140 feet high, which still impresses after over a hundred years and counting.

A courthouse clocktower was a coveted feature on any nineteenth century town square. As a successful lawyer, Alexander W. Doniphan could afford his own pocket watch, but for many people an expensive timepiece was beyond reach. The chiming of a town clock was not just for the charm—it was a practical way for people on the square to keep time. It was also a high-tech status symbol that proclaimed the wealth and success of the county.

When the 1859 Miller County Courthouse in Tuscumbia was remodeled in 1910, no money was available for a costly clock in the tower. This Ozark-area county hoped the necessary funds would eventually be raised. In the meantime, a temporary illusion was created by simply painting a clockface in the tower, set at eight o’clock on all four sides. The tower has been repainted many times over the decades, and each time the “clocks which never ran” are renewed. The court moved out of this building in 2002. It is now in the hands of a private owner with possible plans for use as a bed and breakfast.

Just prior to the outbreak of the Civil War, Cass County purchased bricks for a new courthouse in Harrisonville. This inopportune timing forced the county to drop its plans and sell the 300,000 unused bricks. Cass County would not complete its new courthouse until 1897, and then its tower was missing a clock. Insufficient funds were the culprit. Fortunately, a grass roots citizens group came to the rescue. So it was that on May 11, 1908, the Harrisonville Town Clock Club was organized. This all female group met regularly in the courthouse ladies’ lounge, then called the “Ladies Rest Room.” This club organized all manner of fundraising events, including pie suppers, a laziest man contest, most industrious woman contest, and a female minstrel show. Including the $200 donated by the county court, the necessary $1,231 was raised within one year. The timepiece which was eventually installed boasts a 1,200 pound bell, 12 gross of screws, and 10 pounds of nails. The four dials for this impressive clock each required 250 feet of white pine lumber. By the twenty-first century, most counties had replaced their high maintenance mechanical clock workings with cheaper electric motors. In 2015, Cass County opted to repair its original clock. A state historic preservation grant covered 70 percent of the $106,450 cost.

Like Cass County, the 1887 Howard County Courthouse in Fayette, also included a “lounge” complete with comfortable furnishings and even a piano. This room was used for decades as a social gathering place, and by town square shoppers or weary travelers just needing a place to rest. Obsolete today, but a real community asset in Doniphan’s time.

Iron County erected its one and only courthouse in 1858, for the sum of approximately $14,000. Constructed largely of handmade red brick, it reflects both Greek Revival and Italian architectural elements, a combination termed Italianate Classicism. A gazebo-like bandstand added in 1899 features fanciful gingerbread ornamentation and cut-out designs in the form of stars and crescents. Like similar bandstands on small town squares, this little structure has long been a community focal point for concerts, speeches, civic events, and even Christmas caroling.

The Iron County Courthouse in Ironton played a central role in the Battle of Pilot Knob, on September 27, 1864. Confederate Major General Sterling W. Price, of Battle of Lexington fame, led a motley expedition up from Arkansas into Missouri, with the ultimate aim of St. Louis. Word of Union troops in St. Louis caused Price to divert to Pilot Knob. Eventually, Confederate and Union troops met in bloody fighting in Iron County. Skirmishing near the courthouse left cannon and rifle scars, which can still be seen today. During the battle, the courthouse served as barracks and was occupied at alternate times by Confederate and Union troops. After the fighting, which was a Union victory, it was pressed into duty as a badly needed hospital.

The Macon County courthouse also has Civil War roots. The county seat at the start of the war was Bloomington, home to many Southern sympathizers. Seen as a military threat, Union General Lewis Merrill ordered Major Thomas Moody to burn Bloomington to the ground. Perhaps mindful of his place in history, Major Moody was reluctant to follow such a harsh order.

As a compromise, Moody was allowed to run for the state legislature with the promise to introduce a bill to move the county seat from Bloomington to Macon as an “act of military necessity.” Moody was elected, and thus Macon, then a strategic railroad junction, became the new seat of justice for Macon County. Major Moody could have been influenced by Alexander W. Doniphan’s famous refusal to follow another harsh order, when as a Brigadier General in 1838, Doniphan refused an order by General Samuel D. Lucas of the State Militia to execute Joseph Smith Jr., founder of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

The courthouse in the new seat of Macon was completed in 1865, and is still in use today. In an appearance unusual for a Missouri courthouse, it features fenestration and an ornate cornice design repeated above the recessed double front doors. Originally, the building was topped with an ornate cupola and clock tower which were removed during renovations in 1940.

In 1875, Lewis County commissioned a small two-story red brick courthouse in Monticello which is still in use today. Located in northeast Missouri, the little town of Monticello prospered as a provider of supplies for area settlers. As can be seen below, it also drew strength and aspiration from its role as the county seat.

Here were the lawyers, the politicians, the ‘leading men,’ and here too, was plenty of whisky, strong and cheap. The old taverns, with all their good cheer, plenty of well-cooked and toothsome fare, comfortable beds and ample bar-rooms were the scenes of many an hour’s revel and happy season in the olden time. When the courts were in session, the best legal minds in the state were wont to congregate at Pemberton’s and other taverns, and pass the time merrily during the hours of recess.

We can’t know if Doniphan was one of the “leading men” to ever enjoy the “good cheer” of the old taverns in Monticello, but he would have been familiar with county seat revelry.

Salem, in Dent County, provides a different picture of life on a nineteenth century Missouri town square. Built for the cost of $15,500, its circa 1870, Ozark-region courthouse features a Victorian style mansard roof with dormers and cast-iron cresting. Originally its lawn was fenced with wood posts and whitewashed fence boards, with stiles at each corner. To prevent goats, hogs, cattle, and sheep from milling around on the courthouse grounds, the entry steps to this fence were made of three-quarter-inch iron rods. In 1896, the wood fence was replaced by an iron picket fence which was less successful at keeping out mules, horses, geese, and other wildlife. The following year a city “stock law” was passed to stop the animals’ abuse of the courthouse grounds.

Another county located in the beautiful Missouri Ozark Plateau  region, is Carter, which is roughly divided north to south by the   Current River. Its remote location means that Doniphan probably never visited the county seat, Van Buren. Had he done so, he would have encountered a simple 40-by-40-foot, two-story courthouse, built of Carter County lumber dressed locally by hand. This 1871 structure was remodeled during the Great Depression, with its exterior being expanded and completely  covered in native Missouri cobblestones. No doubt this meant badly needed work for citizens of the county. This unique courthouse still serves today, and bears a plaque reading “Franklin D. Roosevelt, President of the United States, W.P.A. Project No. 168, January 21, 1936.”

While there are a surprising number of surviving nineteenth century Missouri courthouses to remind of us of life and times in Doniphan’s era, their number continues to dwindle. The plight of the 1872 Warren County courthouse in Warrenton is illustrative. Though placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1972, it was none the less demolished in 1995. Costs of ongoing maintenance and renovations to meet the Americans with Disabilities Act were deemed prohibitive. Blame for destruction of this grand structure lies not just with the raw economics, but also with a lack of appreciation for the benefits of historic preservation, including heritage tourism.

Another historic Missouri courthouse recently lost was in Kahoka, Clark County, in the extreme northeast corner of the state. This 42-by-72 foot building was completed in 1872. Until the moment of its demolition in 2011, it provided great insight into 1870s courthouse design. Other than white stucco which had been applied in a 1934 Public Works Administration project, it had not been significantly altered. It is not uncommon for the cupola of an old courthouse to be removed for maintenance reasons, but this one had remained intact. The design for the octagonal-shaped cupola tower did not include a clock. With its original appearance and rural setting, one could imagine lawyers, perhaps even Doniphan himself, arriving for “law day” by horseback or wagon. Preservation groups fought to save the building, arguing that the cost of saving it would not exceed the price of a new building. Unfortunately, this piece of Clark County history was forever lost to the wrecking ball.

Alexander W. Doniphan dedicated his life to the rule of law. He would be pleased to find that so many courthouses from his era have survived. We can only wonder what he might think of today’s modern county justice centers, which have traded stylistic design elements for stark efficiency and metal detectors. They clearly have a tough act to follow. But if Doniphan were to enter a Missouri courthouse today, he would see lawyers arguing their cases just as he did over a century ago. The courthouse still embodies those elusive goals of justice and good governance.

The next time you happen to be on a Missouri town square and spot an old courthouse, stop and look around. See it up close for yourself. Read its plaques and inscriptions. Notice its scars. Take a moment to reflect on the likes of Alexander William Doniphan. Listen for the ghosts of the past.

J. Bradley Pace

Brad Pace is an attorney and past president of the Jackson County Historical Society. He regularly contributes articles to JCHS Journal and is chair of the Publications Committee.

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