The vast majority of North Carolinians still believed in an old-fashioned orthodoxy. The population was predominantly rural. People went to church on Sunday, and most of them accepted the Bible as the literal word of God. North Carolina, they were convinced, was a "Christian Commonwealth." It disturbed them, therefore, when evangelists began to use the word evolution and to condemn the theory that it represented. Charles Darwin's theory was not explained to them nor did they understand it, yet they got the idea that it said that human beings were descended from monkeys. "God-or-gorilla" seemed to be the choice.
In 1924 Governor Cameron Morrison, as ex officio chairman of the State Board of Education, banned a biology textbook from the public high schools because it discussed the theory of evolution. Soon afterward religious fundamentalists launched a campaign to eliminate from the faculty of church-related colleges all "evolutionists" and to introduce Bible courses in the public school curriculum. This, they maintained, would help defeat "the forces of the devil."
At the notorious "Monkey Trial" held in Tennessee in June 1925, a high school teacher, John Thomas Scopes, was tried for teaching the theory of evolution in violation of a state law. The trial, held out-of-doors because it was feared the large crowd would cause the floor of the courtroom to collapse, made Tennessee the laughing stock of the nation. Yet Scopes was found guilty and fined. On appeal to the state supreme court the verdict was set aside.
Advocates pointed out that the Poole bill was not an attack on the freedom of speech nor an attempt to regulate religious beliefs; rather, it was an admonition that a theory not be taught as the truth. Representative Samuel J. Ervin, Jr., of Burke County, maintained that all it did was "absolve monkeys from all responsibility for the human race," but it did, nevertheless, curb free speech. R. O. Everett of Durham objected to such an attempt by the legislature to regulate religious views, and he moved to have the bill tabled. Although his motion was rejected, the measure itself was defeated by a vote of 67 to 46.
National antievolution forces, after their recent victories in Tennessee, Mississippi, and Arkansas, were anxious to prevail in the Tar Heel state. In time, they anticipated, they would secure national legislation to prohibit the teaching of evolution throughout the country. To that end, speakers from Tennessee, Texas, Mississippi, and elsewhere joined local supporters in a North Carolina crusade; leaders of the Anti- Evolution League of America also appeared in the state. At a meeting in Charlotte in May 1926, a Committee of One Hundred made up of naive fundamentalists was formed to conduct a statewide campaign. Newspaper reporters described the gathering as intemperate and disorderly, and adverse publicity limited the committee's effectiveness. Both Harry Woodburn Chase, president of the University of North Carolina, and William Louis Poteat, president of Wake Forest College, were supported by their respective alumni after being harshly criticized for permitting Darwin's theory to be discussed in classes.
The evolution debate became an issue in the political campaign of 1926 when the antievolutionists declared that they were going to elect legislators sympathetic to their views. The Democratic party declined to include any mention of the subject in their platform, but the Committee of One Hundred demanded that every candidate take a public stand on the question. Unopposed in Hoke County, D. Scott Poole took the lead in advocating antievolution legislation, and the vote in Mecklenburg Count, considered "the mecca of fundamentalism," attracted considerable attention. In a runoff primary, Julia Alexander, a Presbyterian who was closely identified with the Committee of One Hundred, was defeated by Carrie MacLean, an attorney and a Baptist who opposed attempts to restrict freedom of speech.
Once again Representative Poole introduced a bill to prohibit the teaching of the evolution theory. It was referred to the committee on education where it was soundly rejected. Antievolutionists got the message and they made no attempt to get the measure to the floor of the house on a minority report. It was clear, nevertheless, that a majority of North Carolinians were fundamentalists and that they would have been pleased never again to hear of Charles Darwin or his strange theory. But a law to prohibit the discussion of any subject, even evolution, was another matter. To appear to offer legislative support to a particular religious belief, as Poole's bill certainly did, was also unacceptable. Even more dreaded was the possibility that North Carolina might become the target of derisive remarks from other states if it passed such a measure.