One of the most vehement attacks on Order No. 11 was delivered by General Frank P. Blair in St. Louis. Blair was astonished that a commander could lay waste a large section of Missouri by means of devastation, rapine and murder simply because Ewing lacked the courage to follow Quantrill. “It is the subterfuge of an imbecile,” remarked Blair. Blair continued by pointing out that 20,000 citizens were being punished because Ewing lacked the power or ability to seek out the 400 or 500 outlaws and murderers. Ewing had instead found it necessary to punish helpless people and destroy one of the finest sections of Missouri.19
It is significant that the first Governor of Kansas, Charles Robinson, concurred that Order No. 11 cast much cruelty upon the people of Missouri. Robinson, a Kansan, was a strong defender of the conduct of Kansas troops but vigorously attacked the role played by the “Red-legs” in Missouri. Robinson’s criticism of fellow Kansans should not be taken lightly.20
One of Quantrill’s officers, William Gregg, said that Order No. 11, “issued by the monster of monsters, General Ewing,” caused the people of Jackson County to suffer great hardships, by being forced to leave their homes with no money or food.”21 It is reasonable to assume that when 20,000 people are forced to leave their homes with so little, considerable suffering will occur. The cruelty of the Jayhawkers did not go unnoticed by the Missouri government. Governor Hamilton Gamble, as reported in the Missouri Democrat of 30 September, authorized the arming of men in some of the western counties to protect them- selves from raiding parties. The real leader of opposition against Ewing was Missouri State Treasurer George Caleb Bingham. Governor Gamble or Jered Bingham to Kansas City to see what could be done following the Lawrence massacre. Bingham went to Ewing’s headquarters in Kansas City and demanded that Order No. 11 be rescinded. Upon Ewing’s refusal to retract the Order, Bingham is reported to have said, “If you persist in executing that order, I will make you infamous with pen and brush as far as I am able.”22
George Bingham made good his promise. His large painting entitled “Order Number Eleven” which shows Ewing astride his horse supervising his troops as they brutally expel Missourians from their homes presents an interpretation of Ewing’s actions which is today generally accepted. The painting depicts a “Kansas Jayhawker” who has just shot a young man and is about to shoot an older man disregarding the pleas of a young girl begging for the life of the elderly gentlemen. Colonel Jennison is pictured with a number of blankets on his horse; he plans apparently to re- turn to Kansas with this booty. In the background is a funeral-like procession of people leaving their homes; columns of smoke from their burning homes and fields rise around them. This painting, as Albert Castel has pointed out, “did more than anything else to create the popular conception of Order No. 11.”23
Richard C. Vaughan, in a letter to Edward Bates, Attorney General of the United States, 28 August 1863, wrote that hundreds of loyal Union men in Jackson and Cass counties were being insulted, robbed, and even murdered. The implementation policy, he said, has caused many good men to leave their homes and seek protection in the brush. Many, he added, joined the guerrillas to insure their own safety.
Even staunch supporters of Order No. 11 saw the severity of its enforcement. Lawrence newspaper editor John Speer wrote, “Neither Sherman in his march to the sea, nor Butler at New Orleans, exceeded it in severity, but it was a just severity, conscientiously administrated by a just man. It was the extreme of humanity com- pared with the fiendish slaughters concocted and carried out by the community which it punished.24
The reaction of the South to Order No. 11 was as could be expected. Order No. 11 was not only denounced but it led to demands that guerrilla activities be increased as reported in the Daily Dispatch of Richmond, Virginia on 1 September, 1863:
The savage and inhuman measures adopted by the Yankees to put down guerrilla warfare proves that this mode of defending a country other- wise unprotected is more annoying and more dreaded by them than any other. . . . Let the guerrilla system . . . be thoroughly carried out, and if the barbarous retaliate . . . let the guerrillas, without waiting for orders exact an eye for an eye and a life for a life.
The Lexington Union on 5 September, 1863, centered its attack both on the cruelty of the order and on the possibility that the number of counties to be depopulated would be increased. It was feared that Order No. 11 might be expanded to the next tier of counties and then the next. The Union, as did many Missourians, feared an in- crease in the control the military had over local and state governments.
Ewing cannot be excused for not knowing what was going on. The enforcement was taking place only a few miles from his headquarters in Kansas City. Ewing had ridden through the district with General Schofield on his way to speak at Independence, Missouri. Many of the dislocated people of the district were flocking to Kansas City to depart for new homes. The press, alone, with its criticism of the enforcement procedure should have made Ewing aware of what was taking place. Ewing, himself, had ordered his men to track and find the bush- whackers and to take no prisoners. Another example of the extreme measures Ewing took is evidenced by his request to General Schofield made 18 September, 1863. The steamer Marcella had been stopped by guerrillas, and three Union soldiers had been shot. Ewing reported, “I have guerrillas here, convicted and unconvicted. Shall I retaliate?” Schofield’s answer was that, in his opinion, it would be just, but unwise, as it was too easy for the guerrillas to find victims for revenge.
The Official Records indicated that Ewing did little to stop the plundering until General Orders, No. 16, issued 2 October, 1863. Four days later, Ewing wrote Colonel William Weer: “There is a good deal of feeling against me already amongst Missourians. Don’t let the troops take stock except from guerrillas.” He also told Weer to leave General E. B. Brown’s people alone and reminded Weer that the second tier of counties was now in his district.25
Perhaps Ewing should not take the blame alone. The dilemma in which he found himself placed was not of his making. The cruelty of any war and especially of a civil war is great. The duration of violence was longer on the Kansas-Missouri border than in any other section during the Civil War. The “total war” of the border had begun early and ended late, as many guerrillas continued their professions as bank and train robbers. The “no holds barred” attitude of the combatants, the lack of civil authority, the political struggles among leaders, both military and civil, all added to Ewing’s woes.

To judge the effectiveness of Order No. 11 a look at guerrilla activity after the order was issued is necessary. We find that it did curtail guerrilla activity in Ewing’s district, but it did not stop it. The guerrillas simply moved into central Missouri in 1864 following their return from wintering in the South. The order may have stopped any future raids into Kansas, but the borders were also better guarded and the people of Kansas better prepared after the raid on Lawrence in 1863, and this might have been the discouraging factor. The order did cause the guerrillas to move south a little earlier than usual. As to its effectiveness then we can only conclude that Order No. 11 cur- tailed guerrilla activity in western Missouri by moving it to central Missouri.
To justify Order No. l1 as necessary is a different matter. First, the people involved were citizens of the State of Missouri and the United States, not the Confederacy. Although regulations regarding martial law are not covered in our Constitution, there is no doubt that the citizens of Missouri lost a great many of their personal liberties. General Ewing undoubtedly believed the order was justified; even so, he could have enforced Order No. 11 with disciplined Iowa, Illinois, or Colorado troops rather than with the revenge-seeking Kansans. As indicated by this paper, the Order made many loyal Missourians turn to the guerrillas for protection and caused many others to leave the state. The drastic acts of cruelty could only have been committed by angry, revenge-seeking men on both sides.
The timing of the order was unfortunate and created much hardship. Most of these people were small farmers with crops in their fields, little money, no place to go, no means of transportation, and many of the men were away fighting for the Confederacy or for the Union. With winter approaching and the bushwhackers “Jayhawkers” and “Red-legs,” General Orders, No. 11 – is that it contributed little to the outcome of the war. Preparing to go south, Ewing could have waited for spring to demand depopulation. It is perhaps most obvious here that Ewing was influenced by the cries of the press. The press crying for action, the Kansans for revenge, and Lane for “blood and fire” apparently influenced him to take immediate action. The order cannot be justified when, with a little more time and a little less emotionalism, a more sympathetic and effective means might have been devised to separate and remove the disloyal people from these Missouri communities.

There were large numbers of Kansas troops in Ewing’s district in 1863. In fact, all the Kansas troops in Ewing’s district with the exception of one company were stationed in the four counties affected by Order No. 11; the great majority of Missouri troops in Ewing’s district were found in the counties not affected by Order No. 11. The order explicitly stated that the depopulation would be vigorously executed by officers commanding in the parts of the district affected by the orders. Thus, the argument that the enforcement was undertaken by Kansas troops is justified. In addition, the Kansas City Daily Journal of Commerce on 5 and 17 September reported other Kansas troops were sent into the district. The 19 Missouri companies in Ewing’s district could have been called upon to enforce the order, or Ewing could have asked for troops from Illinois, Colorado, or Iowa. But Ewing turned instead to Kansas troops to enforce his order. An answer to the question of why Ewing used Kansas troops might possibly solve the mystery of Lane’s satisfaction with Order No. 11. General Ewing set the stage for the brutal reprisals in his efforts to punish the guerrillas. In a report to Schofield, his commanding general, Ewing wrote, “No prisoners have been taken and none will be. All the houses in which Lawrence goods have been found have been destroyed, as well as all the houses of known guerrillas, wherever our troops have gone.” Thus Ewing, by ordering no prisoners taken and allowing the troops, most of whom were Kansans, to decide who was a guerrilla and what goods came from Lawrence, was giving a sense of legality to the revenge-seeking troopers.

Order No. 11 and its enforcement brought most of the press down on Ewing. According to the St. Louis Missouri Republican: “We do not know what reasons operated upon General Ewing to issue Order No. 11 … It is inhuman, unmanly, barbarous . . . It is a prelude as we take it, to a raid by Lane and Jennison, from Kansas, when everything that remains in those rich and populous counties is to be swept away and carried into Kansas.”9 The Lexington Union on 5 September wrote that a lieutenant returning from a scouting patrol in Jackson County said: “It would make a man’s heart melt though it were of stone to witness what I have seen.” He felt sorry for the “helpless women and children driven out by the cruel or- der.” The Union continued:

. . .we have seen these refugees passing through our streets, ill clad, often times barefooted, leaving their only shelter, and their only means of substance during the approaching winter-the crops now maturing-in numerous cases without money to buy food or pay rent going they know not whether. We have found ourselves asking: can it be possible, that this is the work of an officer wearing the uniform of our country?

On 22 September the New York Times in summing up the situation in Missouri reported:

. . .Missouri is today more dangerously disturbed if not more dangerously disloyal than Mississippi. More contempt for the army and the Government is daily poured forth there-more turbulence in talk and in action is indulged in-and human life is less safe than anywhere else within all the military lives of the United States.

Newspaper criticism of Ewing and Order No. 11 was not unanimous. The Journal of Commerce continuously backed both. It had supported Order No. 10 before the Lawrence raid and on 25 August, 1863, the day Order No. 11 was issued, it asked its readers to read the order as it was “unavoidable necessary.” On the following day, 26 August, 1863, the Journal of Commerce reported: “Our advice to every man who wishes to see peace ever restored to the border is to stand by General Ewing, and especially in the execution of Order, No. 11 . . .” On 4 September 1863, the Journal of Commerce attacked both the Lexington Union and the Missouri Republican which had found great fault in Order No. 11. Their criticism, the Commerce said, was due “to their ignorance of affairs on the Border,” and the Commerce writers pointed out that the St. Louis editors were complaining more than the Union people on the Border. Ewing and his order also gained support from the Union League of Kansas City and the Jackson County Union Association.10 Ewing was, therefore, criticized by many and praised by some. But his image would always be somewhat hazy-black to some, white to others. He would be judged then and later in regard to two questions: Did Order No. 11 stop guerrilla activity, and could the Order be justified as necessary in any sense of the word even if its purpose was accomplished?

Assuming Ewing’s objective was to stop the guerrillas by removing their families and friends, how well did the order accomplish its purpose?

Militarily, Ewing was backed by his commanding general. General Schofield drafted a similar order, also on 25 August, 1863, and wrote Ewing: “. . . I am pretty much convinced that the mode of carrying on the war on the border during the past two years has produced such a state of feeling that nothing short of total devastation of the districts which are made the haunts of guerrillas will be sufficient to put a stop to the evil . . .” Schofield understood that some loyal people would suffer. He sympathized, “The commanding general is aware that some innocent persons must suffer from these extreme measures, but such suffering is unavoidable, and will be made as light as possible.” On paper Schofield’s order was harsher than Ewing’s. Schofield’s order provided for the destruction of houses, barns, and personal property; Ewing’s included only hay and grain among those items to be destroyed. When Ewing’s order was enforced by Kansas troops, however, it evidenced all the harshness of Schofield’s and more. The important issue is that Schofield agreed that some type of order requiring the depopulation of the District of the Border was necessary.

The order was supported by Colonel Bazel F. Lazear, a member of Ewing’s force, in a letter to his wife, on 17 September. Although Ewing’s order was thought unjust and cruel by some, he thought it “one of the best orders that has been issued, and I think will have good effect.” He commented that the order would prove troublesome for only a few union people as most of them had already left the area.”11

The Journal of Commerce fully supported Order No. 11 when on 29 August, 1863, it editorialized that due to General Order No. 11 the families of the bushwhackers were leaving and that the bushwhackers themselves would soon follow. And on 1 September, 1863, the journal complimented the vigorous campaign carried on by Ewing’s troops and asked for the same energy to be applied in the future. Ewing’s order accomplished the military objectives, according to the Journal. Two months later on 7 November this same source observed that great changes had taken place on the border and that the farmers of southern Kansas now felt safe for the first time since the war began.

Major Wyllis C. Ransom, speaking at a farewell supper for the 10th Kansas stated that, “Upon our immediate Border, by the grace of God, with the assistance of General Ewing and General Orders No. 11 we have peace-peace which I trust may be permanent and lasting.”’12 Ransom believed, like many, that peace had come to the Border because of Order No. 11. Peace had come, in part, because of increased difficulty facing guerrilla operations. We must also take into consideration the fact that the guerrillas always went south in the winter, thus with or without the order they would have been relatively inactive at this time.

The effectiveness of the Order No. 11 can be seen in guerrilla leader William Gregg’s statement, “The country having been depopulated under General Ewing’s Order Number Eleven, the men were sorely tried for food, apples being the only edible thing found in Missouri after leaving Lafayette County, and the boys nearly starved. . .”13 Ewing’s hope that the guerrillas would not be able to live off the land is apparently confirmed by Gregg’s statement. Guerrilla scout John McCorkle reported that on re- turning to Missouri after the winter of 1864, the irregulars could not find food for man or horse in Cass County.14

There is little doubt that Order No. 11 was a severe blow to the guerrillas. It served, however, only to hinder their operations in the District of the Border. When they returned after the winter, they began their activities again in central rather than western Missouri. If Ewing’s intention was to stop the guerrillas from raiding Kansas and operating within his district, his order was effective.

President Abraham Lincoln could see the potential evils of such an order. He informed General Schofield:

. . with the matters of removing the inhabitants of certain counties en masse; and of removing certain individuals from time to time, who are supposed to be mischievous, I am not now interfering, but am leaving to your own discretion. . . But, in like manner, you will repress assumptions of unauthorized individuals to perform the same service; because under pretense of doing this, they become marauders and murderers themselves.15

President Lincoln perceived that the men performing such a service could be as destructive as the guerrillas; he believed the orders could be carried out by a military force. But the troops called upon to perform the service were the Kansans, who carried out their orders with hatred and a burning desire for revenge. Albert Castel wrote in 1963: “In fact, with the exception of the hysteria-motivated herding of Japanese-Americans into concentration camps during World War II, it stands as the harshest treatment ever imposed on United States citizens under the plea of military necessity in our nation’s history.16 Col. B. F. Lazear who supported Ewing’s action observed in a letter to his wife, 10 September, 1863, that: “It is heart sickening to see what I have seen since I have been back here. A desolated country of women and children, some of them almost naked. Some on foot and some in old wagons. Oh, God.”17 Many Missourians were not happy with the hardships placed on some of their population by Order No. 11. John McCorkle observed that the people were banished and robbed by the same order and that so much was stolen that they had little to move.

Continued in Part III

Were such an edict issued by the Czar of Russia, towards any part of Poland, it would stamp him with infamy before the civilized world. Such, we believe, will be the verdict of history in regard to this order. Lexington Weekly Union (Mo.), 5 September 1863.

AT approximately five o’clock the morning of 21 August 1863, guerrilla leader William Clarke Quantrill and 450 men attacked the sleeping town of Lawrence, Kansas. After gaining control of the town, the guerrillas began their grisly task of looting, murder, and arson. Quantrill had ordered his men to kill every man big enough to carry a gun, and his orders were obeyed. Within four hours the guerrillas had killed approximately 150 unarmed men and had left 80 widows and 250 orphans. Most of the stores and banks of Lawrence had been robbed; 185 buildings, including one-fourth of the town’s private residences, had been destroyed. This was guerrilla warfare at its ugliest.

Following the raid on Lawrence, Quantrill and his guerrillas fled to the supposed safety of the Missouri border counties. Here the guerrillas di vided into smaller groups and headed for hiding places hoping to make their detection unlikely. The raid on Lawrence placed great pressure on the commanding general of the district, General Thomas Ewing, Jr. Ewing found himself faced both with the problem of tracking down the bush whackers and protecting Kansas from future raids and with the far more serious and immediate problem of keeping vengeful Kansans out of Missouri.

Quantrill’s forces had crossed into Missouri near Morristown, Missouri; it was here that United States Senator (Kansas) James Lane and Thomas Ewing met the night of August 22, 1863 and drew up Order No. 11.

General Orders, No. 11 of 25 August 1863, has been considered one of the cruelest and most unusual orders issued by a general during the Civil War. This order banished from four Missouri counties most inhabitants regardless of their sympathies. The only exceptions were that people living within one mile of a military post could remain, and those persons who could establish their loyalty could move to any military post or into Kansas except for the counties on the eastern border of that state.1 The four counties – Jackson, Bates, Cass, and the upper section of Vernon – were located in western Missouri, a state that remained in the Union. In Bates County, which did not have a military post, the entire population had to leave. The homes of 20,000 people were looted and burned, and their crops were confiscated or destroyed. In the 15 days allowed before they would be forcibly removed, they had too little time, too little money, and too little transportation to save many of their belongings.

Many saw the order as an act of vengeance, to punish the guerrillas for the “Sack of Lawrence,” The Lexington Union of September 5, 1863 asked, “Is this order designed to avenge this atrocity? Does a just government take vengeance for crime upon the innocent and helpless?” On September 1, 1863 the Daily Dispatch of Richmond, Virginia stated, “Quantrill’s raid upon Lawrence, Kansas, seems to have provoked a war of extermination against the people of Northern Missouri.”

In reality Order No. 11 was not issued as a punitive measure for the sack of Lawrence. As the Kansas City, Missouri Journal of Commerce of September 3, 1863 stated: “The Lawrence massacre was its occasion, not its cause.” The evacuation policy was apparently already in Ewing’s mind. The Official Records provide evidence that Order No. 10, issued 18 August 1863, three days before the raid, was similar in policy to Order No. 11; according to Order No. 10 families of known Southern Sympathizers were to be removed. Ewing wrote Colonel C. W. Marsh on 3 August 1863 that he believed the only possible way to curtail guerrilla activity was to remove the guerrillas and their families. Ewing’s action was an expansion of Order No. 10 but much harsher.

This study seeks to answer two questions: Was Order No. 11 effective and was it necessary?

One explanation offered for the order suggests its purpose was to assure the people of Kansas that they would be protected against future raids. Another reason for the Order was to curtail any attempt by Kansas to launch a raid of vengeance on Missouri. There seemed to be no doubt in the minds of most Missourians that such a raid would be forthcoming. Missourians who read Jim Lane’s speech which appeared in Missouri newspapers had a right to be frightened. Lane threatened as reported in the Daily Missouri Democrat (St. Louis) of 1 September 1863:

I will tell you what I want to see. I want to see every foot of ground in Jackson, Cass, and Bates counties burned over everything laid waste. Then we shall have no further trouble. The bushwhackers cannot remain in the country, for they will have nobody to feed them nobody to harbor them nobody to provide them with transportation no place to sleep in, and will have thirty-five miles further to march before they reach Kansas.

Lane then offered the following resolution to the people of Leavenworth which was unanimously adopted: “Resolved. That so many of the loyal men of the border as can be spared from home protection, be requested to assemble at Paola on the 8th day of September, with such arms and ammunition as they can procure Lane also told General John M. Schofield that he was going to “lay waste to the border counties of Missouri and exterminate the disloyal people.”2

On 3 September the White Cloud Kansas Chief (Troy), as well as other Kansas papers, asked that all citizens of Kansas who wished to assist in clearing out the Missouri bush whackers meet at Paola on 8 September.

General Schofield informed General Henry W. Halleck that Lane would not be permitted to enter Missouri. The Daily Missouri Republican on 6 September declared: “If Jim Lane attempts it, as he has threatened to do, Federal bayonets will protect the integrity of our soil.” But Missourians were frightened. The Neve Anzeiger des Westens (St. Louis), as reported in the Lexington Daily Union (Missouri) on 5 September described the people of Missouri as filled with terror and predicted that if Kansans, led by Lane, invaded Missouri, the Missourians could expect murder, plunder, robbery, slaughter, and “burning butchery.” To add to the Missourians’ fears the notorious Col. Charles Jennison, the most vicious and feared of the Kansas Jayhawkers, was given authority to recruit men into Union service.

Many border cities, hoping to escape retaliation from the Kansans, collected money for Lawrence 3. The Daily Missouri Democrat on 27 August reported that in Platte County 50 men gave from one to 10 dollars each in hopes of escaping the anticipated raid. Weston, Missouri gave 200 dollars to Lawrence. The Kansas City Journal of Commerce, which strongly supported the order, told its readers on 26 August that the order might satisfy the people of Kansas and save Missouri from a raid by Kansans. Ewing believed, or perhaps simply hoped, that this order, if enforced, might satisfy the Kansans. He was not going to allow a mass march on Missouri by Kansans as indicated by his correspondence with Schofield, 26 August, and 27 August, 1863.

Historian Albert Castel has pointed to a fourth Ewing motive which was both personal and political. The massacre took place in Ewing’s home state and among his friends. Thus a great deal of the blame for the raid was placed on his shoulders by his political enemies.4 The White Cloud Chief on 27 August announced: “If for every curse that has been be- stowed upon Ewing in Kansas, since Friday last, were [sic] a dollar there would be sufficient to rebuild Lawrence more substantially than ever, and to make every man in the state rich.” Kansas Governor Thomas Carney informed Schofield that many influential citizens of Kansas were against Ewing.5 General Frank Preston Blair, a Missourian, in a fiery speech in St. Louis called the desolation of Western Missouri a game between Ewing and Lane for the Senate seat of Kansas.6

Still another factor in the issuance of the order, it appears, was the pressure which Lane had brought to bear on Ewing. Ewing as a politician realized that Lane was the political leader in Kansas and that his own future could be brightened by acceding to Lane’s wishes. When the two men met at Morristown on 22 August 1863, William Mowdry, a Union officer who was present, reported that Lane told Ewing he would have him removed as soon as he could get to Washington. Ewing then begged Lane’s forgiveness, and Lane agreed to save Ewing if he would issue the order. After writing the order, Mowdry allegedly heard Lane say to Ewing, “You are a dead dog if you fail to issue that order as agreed between us.”7

Accepting the fact that the two men, met, an unanswered question remains. Why would Jim Lane, whose home and possessions were destroyed in the “Sack of Lawrence,” a man who screamed for blood and fire, be satisfied by a purely military order of orderly depopulation of a section of Missouri. Historian Richard Brownlee wrote, “Is it possible then, that Jim Lane would ever have accepted the order as a remedy unless there was an additional unwritten provision to it which he demanded and to which Ewing agreed?” Brownlee thought there was a bargain that the order would be “enforced by federalized Kansas troops. …”8 It should be pointed out that it was after the Lane- Ewing meeting that Lane stated that he wished to see the district burned and destroyed and the disloyal people exterminated.

Continued in Part II

John Armstrong was the closest free-stater living north of Albert Stokes on the northwest quarter of Section 28, also located on Washington Creek. John was born at Oxford, Canada West, on June 8, 1824, the son of Thomas and Sarah Dodge Armstrong. He was an avid abolitionist and always acted with the Abolition party before he came to Kansas. He voted for Martin Van Buren when the latter was the anti-slavery candidate for President. He well remembered the excitement in New York State and New England when the Kansas-Nebraska Bill passed, and he resolved that he would come to Kansas and help make it a free state. Leaving western New York on November 1, 1854, he arrived at Kansas City on approximately the 17th or 18th of November.

We found at Kansas City on the levee, one Hotel, one barn and six warerooms, and where now the market square is located was a horse mill. We went to Westport where there was quite a village and from there traveled west into Kansas.

At Kansas City, John met the notorious Sam Wood, and after ascertaining the latter’s anti-slavery sentiments made arrangements with him to carry his baggage and trunks. There were five in this party which arrived in Lawrence on the night of November 20. Armstrong established his claim on Washington Creek and immediately became involved in the Underground Railroad.

A proslavery family named Bowen lived on an adjoining claim, which was traversed by a trail from McGee’s Crossing (the main trail crossing the Wakarusa). This family had brought with them from Kentucky a family of slaves, including a father, mother and eight children, the eldest a boy about twenty. According to John’s reminiscences, his sister, Sarah, taught these children their letters. They came to the Armstrong house on Sunday for this purpose, unbeknownst to their master. There were other slaves in the neighborhood (a few grown ones), but this was the largest slave family.

There were a few slaves who lived up on the head of Washington creek, in the proslavery settlement, where about sixty proslavery men lived. The Negroes told us that Bowen was afraid of our Sharps rifles. He though they would shoot a mile.

Bowen’s colored people built his log house and did general farm work. He brought them there in the spring of 1855, as early as April. He brought his own family at that time too. There might have been 3 or 4 in his family. His son-in-law was a part of the family. The negroes built a little cabin out about ten rods from the house. All of the buildings were of logs. The house was what is called a double-log house, two rooms and an open space between.

John states that the proslavery people would get drunk and come and threaten him. He told the Lawrence boys about it, and one night Capt. Randlet and a party of free-state men in Lawrence came out to his place on Washington Creek. From there they went over to Bowen’s, cleaned out his whiskey and gave him three days to leave.

The Armstrong and Bowen cabins were only a quarter of a mile apart. The eldest colored boy came to John’s house that night with the rest of the children and cried, “Master Armstrong! Some men have

come to Master Bowen’s, and I am afraid they are going to kill us.” John let them all in – the whole colored family – and asked them who was in the crowd, but the children did not know if the men they were free-state or proslavery men; they just wanted John to run them off. Armstrong had previously talked to them about leaving their master. But a Lawrence Journal World article states that ” . . . the slave family wanted Miss Armstrong’s brother (John) to start them on the way to Canada, but the risk was too great and he did not do so.” They (the Bowens) took the slaves with them to Westport, Mo.

John Armstrong credited himself with persuading Jim Lane to come to Kansas. He had met Lane in the spring of 1855 on a boat on the Missouri River the morning after leaving St. Louis. John had been in Kansas since 1854 and had explored with Governor Robinson as far up as the Blue River. He recounted his meeting with Lane at an Old Settlers’ Meeting in 1879

Lane was on his way to Kansas, and when he found out that I had been in the Territory, he wanted to learn all about the country . . . I gave them a general description of the country from the mouth of the Kaw River up to where Manhattan now stands, and of all the country. The location of Lawrence and the Kansas bottom pleased my eyes better than any where else, and I gave them a glowing description of it, and told them that I believed that Lawrence was the place where we should eventually build up a great city. I know I did prevail upon Lane to come to Lawrence, for three days after I got here he came up here with his family. *emphasis author’s”

Later, in an 1896 interview when he was seventy-two, Armstrong further elaborated on his this meeting:

If Jim Lane was the greatest man Kansas ever produced – and a good many people think he was – then John Armstrong deserves the credit of discovering the greatest man and starting him in the proper channel. Mr. Armstrong says he came to Kansas to make it a free state, and he didn’t content himself with settling down in the Topeka town site, but he joined Stubbs’ company at Lawrence, received his Sharps’ rifle and marched and practiced with the boys. His meeting with Jim Lane is thus recounted by him: ” I had shipped a large nursery stock to Kansas which I started in 1851 and I expected it to arrive in Kansas City as soon as I returned from up the country, but it only reached St. Louis that fall. I had to go to St. Louis to look after it and in the early spring of 1855 I shipped it to Kansas. The morning I left St. Louis the clerk of the boat came to me and said, ‘Colonel Lane from Indiana and Thomas Shoemaker want to see you and have a talk about Kansas.’ I went down to the ladies’ cabin and was introduced to Colonel Lane and to Mr. Shoemaker, who had been appointed land receiver of the Kickapoo district. I had a pleasant talk with them, and from that time until we arrived in Kansas City we had frequent talks about Kansas. I became satisfied in my own mind that Lane’s object was to organize a Democratic party in Kansas and be its leader. He wanted to settle in the biggest place in the territory and asked me particularly about what I thought would be the best place to go. I gave him the best information I could, and a couple of days after I arrived in Lawrence, Colonel Lane came there with his family. “I introduced him to the boys and we vied with one another in doing what we could for him in running out lines and building a cabin. The willingness of the free-state people to help him, and the willingness of the proslavery party to carry out the Douglas squatter sovereignty bill to the territory, the driving away of true settlers from the polls and the frequent raids of the border ruffians, was what, I think, made such men as James H. Lane and hundreds of others as radical as any of us.”

Lane soon began to come over to the free-state side and became one of the great leaders for the cause; John became one of his lieutenants.

I also started an Underground Railroad in 1857 from Topeka to Civil Bend, Iowa. I hired a closed carriage and span of mules. I lived in Topeka then. I took up a subscription to start the thing, and amongst the number that gave me money was Dr. Charles Robinson, who was at Topeka at the time. He gave me ten dollars. I think Sam Wood gave five dollars and Maj. J. B. Abbott five. They were attending the Legislature. I don’t remember all that helped start the first train on the Underground Railroad and I helped establish the depots from Topeka to Civil Bend, Iowa.

In Reminiscences of Slave Days in Kansas, John tells how he encountered his first “passenger” on the “Topeka line” of the Underground Railroad.

The first slave I took out of Kansas was a woman. She got away from her masters, and came up to Howard’s, who lived about 2 miles s.e. of Topeka, staied [sic] there about five or six weeks, when some proslavery men from Deer Creek found that she was there and took her back to Lecompton for the reward. One or two of Edward’s boys was with the party that returned her. They lived on the Shunganunga near Frank Dawson’s … Howard had no chance to get the woman onto the Underground Railway. Her name was Ann Clarke. [. . . ] When they got her back to Lecompton it was about evening. They sent out in the country for Clarke to come in and pay the reward. Ann went out in the kitchen to clean herself up. By this time it was pretty dark, and she was studying how to get away. They had given her some cakes to eat, and she put some of these in her budget (a small bag or pouch). The men were in a frolic, had been drinking some. The women only were watching her, but she kept on the watch herself for a chance to escape and finally seizing an opportunity when they were off guard, ran out of the kitchen and up a ravine which was situated near where the foundations of the Territorial Capital State House is in Lecompton.

It was a very brushy ravine. She hid in a thick place in the brush, and hid there until most morning. They came out and hunted for her, coming very near her. When it became light enough she followed the ravine up s.e. and came up out onto the top of the hill on the edge of the prairie. Being now daybreak, she could see all about and took her bearings. She finally saw a man coming along the road s.w. of Lecompton and running east towards Lawrence. He had a book under his arm. She thot [sic] a man with a book must be free-state, and went out to talk to him. It was Dr. Barker, the father of Senator Barker of Douglas County. She asked him who lived in the different houses. Finally she found that he was Dr. Barker, a neighbor of G. W. Clarke who owned her (jointly with Col. Titus). He lived east of Lecompton and was credited with the murder of Thomas Barber in 1855. He was a former Indian agent and a prominent border ruffian. He had been out to see a sick woman, and was returning home. She [the slave woman, Ann] asked him to take her to his house and help her get free. He told her to go farther south, to walk down the ravine and come up back of his house. He kept her at his house a day or two, hitched up his team, put in several comforts, covered her over and took her down towards Lawrence, to the house of the father-in-law of George Earle, who brot [sic] her up to me at Topeka, to the residence of Mrs. Scales . . . Mrs. Scales kept her hid for a week before Mr. Scales found it out. Capt. Henry came in on her one morning when she was helping Mrs. Scales wash dishes. He was a strong proslavery man, and was boarding at the house. Mrs. Scales said, “You can keep a secret?” He did and never gave us away . . . We kept her there for about six weeks at our house, while I made arrangements to take her to Iowa.

Much has been written about this house – the residence of Mrs. Scales – at 429 Quincy Street in Topeka. There is some discrepancy as to who actually built it. Armstrong, in his Reminiscences, states that

Mrs. Scales, when he built the house placed a sugar hogshead, (a cask capable of containing large amounts of liquid), which he had shipped things from the east in, down in the cellar. When Ann came, we put some straw, clothes, and blankets into the hogshead, and had her stay in it. Mrs. Scales kept boarders, and during the day, while they were out, Ann used to come up in the kitchen and do a great deal of housework.

A newspaper article from 1913 also states that “*t+he stone house at 429 Quincy Street was erected by a Mrs. Scales, who emigrated from New York.” But the Topeka Mail & Kansas Breeze article from 1896 states that at the time of that interview, John Armstrong was still living in “the little stone house at 429 Quincy in Topeka, where he had lived ever since coming there in the early 1850’s,” and a 1910 newspaper article states that the house was built by John Armstrong himself. A 1929 newspaper article corroborates this, stating that “. . . it was constructed in 1856 by John Armstrong, a pioneer in Topeka, when the town had scarcely two dozen houses to break the nakedness of the plains.”

Whether built by him or not, the house eventually came into John Armstrong’s stewardship – if not ownership – when, after the sudden death of their younger daughter, “the Scales family moved from the house and returned east, leaving Armstrong in possession of the place.” And there can be no doubt as to its usage in Armstrong’s hands. “From this time on the place was the center of a very flood of anti-slavery sentiment. And at this time came the hogshead from New Orleans, and the disappearances of many slaves from the homes of their masters.”

“I suppose I have kept three hundred slaves in the house at 429 Quincy St., all told,” Armstrong is quoted as saying in the 1910 newspaper article, “and every one of them was taken north and eventually reached Canada.”

Many newspaper articles over the years have recounted the legend of the little stone house in Topeka. From the Topeka Daily Capital of April 21, 1929:

[I]n the basement was placed an immense hogshead, big enough to hold a score of persons comfortably. The hogshead originally had contained sugar, and was shipped up the Mississippi River to St. Louis, up the Missouri to Westport Landing, thence up the Kaw to Topeka. Emptied, it was put in the basement before the joists for the building were laid. At the time Armstrong obtained it, he thought that it would make an admirable hiding place for fleeing slaves . . . Armstrong was the first Topekan to have a station on the Underground Railroad. He received the blacks at night, placed them in the cellar and held them until it was safe for them to continue their journey.

Southern soldiers, in pursuit of the escaping Negroes, often halted in Topeka. Pitched battles, in which deaths sometimes occurred, took place in this vicinity. The Old Topeka House, situated where the post office now stands, was thought to be the hiding place of the slaves. This frequently was searched, but the fugitives never were found.

No suspicion was attached to the little stone building, just back of the Topeka House. It was so small and innocent appearing, and there seemed no places in it where anyone could be concealed. But had the pursuing soldiers only known it, on many occasions there were a dozen or more slaves concealed in the hogshead at the time they were futilely searching the Topeka House.

From the Topeka Daily Capital of Tuesday, July 5, 1938:

“Old ‘ Undergound Railway’ Cabin in Topeka on Block”

Slaves were hidden in the basement, which was entered by a long passage that originally reached to the Shunganunga Creek draw near what is now Fifteenth Street. The entrance to this passage still remains in the basement of the house.

The house contains three rooms, one large room on the main floor and two smaller rooms in the basement.

Cottonwood was used in the frame of the structure, but it is the walnut siding that gives the house its principal claim to architectural distinction.

The little stone house and the activities that took place there are perhaps best described in an earlier Topeka Daily Capital article, which states:

Slaves were hidden in the cellar . . . there were oftimes as many as a dozen runaway slaves taken care of by Mr. Armstrong and other anti-slavery people . . . The old stone house, which was the refuge of so many runaway slaves, has never been remodeled except for a new roof some years ago and is now the home of a colored family who probably do not know the same roof which shelters them, sheltered people of their own race over fifty years ago who were trying to escape the bonds of slavery.

For the runaway slaves, the stay at the Scales/Armstrong house at 429 Quincy St. in Topeka was only the beginning of what could turn into a harrowing Slaves were hidden in the cellar . . . there were oftimes as many as a dozen runaway slaves taken care of by Mr. Armstrong and other anti-slavery people . . . The old stone house, which was the refuge of so many runaway slaves, has never journey to freedom. In the 1910 Topeka Daily Capital article, Armstrong related that

. . . [w]e used to ford the Kaw River about where the bridge now stands always traveling by night and lying under cover during the day. Holton was the first station north and from there we went to Nebraska City and crossed the Missouri River at that point. After reaching Silver Bend, Iowa, we turned the slaves over to the Quakers and from that point it was an easy matter to place them on Canadian soil . . . I sometimes rode a pony on my trips, but unless I had some women in the party I usually walked and slept on the ground.

I took up one other woman. I don’t remember how she came to me. A Mr. Mills, a Topeka man, went with me all the way thru and returned with me . . . The road was about this way: We went first to Rochester, to Bowker’s in the night. The next stopping place would be Holton, at Smith’s or at Reynold’s, who lived a mile west of Holton, on the Creek. Another place was five miles north of Holton, where Brown was caught at the Battle of the Spurs. In crossing that creek, I got stuck, and had to get the woman out of the buggy. This was on the Jim Lane road. On my way up that first time I followed the track of Kagi [John Brown’s right-hand man who later died in the raid on Harper’s Ferry], who had started out three weeks before me to visit his father . . . We afterwards sent several women up. Some came from Missouri, some from Kansas.

Armstrong and Mills took the slaves from Topeka north over the Lane Trail. They were covered in a wagon, which was closed. The wagon had a false bottom to be used in cases of emergency; over this false bottom were spread hay and straw. The first stopping place north of Topeka was the farm of William Bowker. William Owens lived next door to Bowker, and sometimes his house also was used as a station on the Underground Railroad.

On his first trip with the slave Ann Clarke, Armstrong recounts, “We started in the very last days of February 1857, and I was gone three weeks. We went to Civil Bend, Iowa, to Dr. Blanchard. From there we sent her on the Chicago. The trip was without incident as far as Nebraska City. Approaching there, Armstrong concealed the Negroes beneath the false bottom in the wagon bed. Border ruffians halted him and looked in his wagon for slaves, but did not find them. That night Armstrong drove to Civil Bend, several miles up the Missouri. Kagi had been sent ahead of this first consignment over the underground, and was waiting for Armstrong at Nebraska City. He conducted the cargo of slaves to the ferry at Civil Bend, where he aided Armstrong to cross the Missouri River. The crossing was a dangerous matter, as ice was running in large pieces. The ferryman had to be persuaded with a Colt’s navy (revolver) before he would undertake the passage. The boat was carried down the river half a mile by the ice but finally made the east shore safely. The slaves were delivered to Dr. Ira D. Blanchard, who lived near Civil Bend on the Lane Trail, and a few miles from Tabor, Iowa. Kagi’s father lived at the time in Nebraska City and he also aided Armstrong to escape from the town with the slaves. The Underground Railroad over the Lane Trail was in operation as long as it was necessary for slaves to leave Kansas for Canada.

John Brown himself left Kansas forever over the Lane Trail in late January 1859. On his last exit from Kansas, while delivering slaves, he ran into trouble north of Holton, Kansas. He sent a farmer named Wasson, whose anti-slavery sentiments were well-known, back to Topeka to tell Colonel John Richie that John Brown was surrounded in a cabin (Fuller’s) on Straight Creek. It was Sunday morning when Wasson reached Topeka, and Richie and his family were part of a congregation gathered at a schoolhouse which stood at Fifth and Harrison and served as the meeting place for Congregationalists. A commotion was heard at the rear of the building causing people to turn toward the door. John Armstrong walked immediately to Richie’s seat and whispered in his ear. They both left the church and after hastily collecting a few men, hurried to the aid of the “Old Puritan”. They helped disperse the enemy at the crossing on Straight Creek near the Fuller cabin, in the Battle of the Spurs.

This battle, which occurred on January 31, 1859, received its name from Richard J. Hinton, an eastern correspondent who had come to Kansas. “As spurs were the most effective weapon used, the title is not altogether inappropriate. Not a shot was fired on either side.

A different explanation for the battle’s odd name was written by G. M. Seaman:

Some (of the men) had gotten their horses and some were afoot, but as they got out of the woods those that were afoot grabbed hold of the tails of the horses of those who were mounted and away they went sailing over the prairie, hence it was dubbed the “Battle of the Spurs.”

John Armstrong went on to live a long life. As stated above, he was still living in the stone house in 1896. The 1910 Topeka Capital article states that Armstrong, then 86, was living at Keith’s Hospital. He died less than a year later, on Dec. 19, 1911. His obituary appeared in the Topeka State Journal for December 20, 1911:

Anti Slavery Fighter Dies

John Armstrong, 87 years old, and the last survivor of the handful of pioneers which selected the location for a city where a town site company a fortnight later founded Topeka in December 1854, died last evening at St. Patrick’s Hospital and will be buried in Rochester Cemetery, where he already has had his monument erected and inscribed with the exception of the date of his death* . . . He was active in making Kansas a free state and established an underground railroad north from Topeka. He was with both Lane and Brown in their border warfare. He never married, remaining true to Eunice Scales, a young woman he met shortly after coming to Topeka, but who died of smallpox before their wedding could be arranged.

The above sad account may hold a key to the fervor with which John Armstrong approached his Underground Railroad activities.

The peculiar recklessness and energy for excitement that possessed John Armstrong might be hinged on a pathetic romance that filled his life during the first two years in Kansas. Mrs. Scales brought with her two daughters when she came to Kansas and old-timers who know the facts state beyond a doubt that the Scales home was a popular place in the eyes of the young men of Topeka. But above all suitors for the younger of the two daughters stood John Armstrong. He had followed the family from New York to Kansas and in this Far Western State stopped with them and continued the avowal of his loyalty.

All went well with the pioneer lovers and the affair was settled in the minds of Topekans. Then Miss Scales died with a contagious disease after a sickness of but a few days. After the funeral John Armstrong walked the streets for many days, seemingly without energy.

Was it John Armstrong’s abolitionist fervor that brought him to Kansas, or did he follow his heart here and turn to anti-slavery zeal only after his heart was broken? One thing is for certain; it has been 145 years since John Armstrong set foot on Kansas soil, but his footprints left an indelible imprint on the struggle to make Kansas free.

 

The name “Red Legs” is often confused with the name “Jayhawkers” that describes the Kansas men who supported the Free-State cause in the border wars along the Missouri-Kansas border prior to the American Civil War.

Red Legs were a paramilitary group that was supported by Union generals such as Thomas Ewing Jr., James Blunt, and Senator James H. Lane. It was financed officially by the Kansas governor, Thomas Carney, and saw its first muster under the command of Charles R. “Doc” Jennison and Captain George H. Hoyt, a Massachusetts lawyer who defended John Brown at his trial after the Harpers Ferry Raid. These men were ardent abolitionists, but were equally as vicious as the bushwhackers in Missouri. Buffalo Bill Cody was a Red Leg and admitted that “We were the biggest thieves on record.”

Historian Albert Castel points out that,

Kansas jayhawkers and Red Legs made devastating raids into Missouri during which they plundered and murdered, burned farmhouses and crops, and liberated hundreds of slaves. These forays in turn caused pro-Southern guerrilla bands to retaliate against Kansas. Led by Quantrill, the Missouri bushwhackers sacked Kansas border settlements and shot down unarmed civilians “like so many hogs.” At the same time they waged a deadly partisan warfare against Federal troops and Union adherents in Missouri itself.

This consistent fighting along the border, and the incursions by the pro-southern Missourians into Kansas seeking retribution, led to General Thomas Ewing to issue the infamous General Order No. 11 on August 25, 1863. This depopulation of the Missouri counties of Jackson, Bates, Cass and parts of Vernon, left Missourians with an even stronger hate for their Kansas neighbors, which led to more incursions by bushwhackers and more violence.

In a compilation of letters from the era of the war put together in 1920, there is this account by Sam P. Gott;

About the first of January, 1864, a band of Kansas Red Leg soldiers same into the northwestern part of Johnson county, Missouri, and robbed, burned and murdered in that part of the country for two or three days. An old man named Shafer was killed and the house and barn were burned. An eyewitness told the writer that he saw the smoke going up from twenty-seven houses and barns at one time.

These murderers, claiming to be Jennison’s soldiers, under the command of Jim Lane, returned to Kansas City with their booty and remained there until the first of April, 1864. They then came back into southwestern Lafayette County, apparently to complete the work of devastation in that part of the country. It was on Sunday afternoon that they came into the neighborhood of Chapel Hill (I think it was at this time they burned Chapel Hill College). They hung an old man nearly eighty years old in a barn belonging to a man named William Harris. Old Uncle Joe Johnson was the man who was hung. That night they camped on the farm of Mr. Alph Cobb, about three miles east of Chapel Hill. Early the next morning they went to Washington Martin’s and took away about fifteen head of good mules and horses, besides whatever other valuables they could load into wagons and haul away.

Near Lone Jack in southeast Jackson County, an expedition led by Colonel Charles S. Clark of the Ninth Kansas Cavalry provides an example of how events involving any Red Leg imbedded with the Union troops often turned out.

Martin Rice was a loyal Unionist, but was forced from his home and land. He had obtained the required papers showing his loyalty to the Union but on his five mile journey to his new home in Johnson County, along with a number of his neighbors he was met by the Ninth Kansas Cavalry and arrested. After being questioned by the arresting officer, Captain Charles F. Coleman, Rice was instructed to ‘”Travel!”’ and set back out on his journey. He then heard shots fired and turned around to find that his neighbors and travelling companions all had been accused of assisting a group of guerillas the night before and therefore all had been shot and killed.

Historian Bruce Nichols points out that this event “was purely and act of cruelty or the result of wrong assumptions, it certainly was a case of “shoot first and ask questions later” which typified many of the actions of Union troops in this region during this period…”

Another example of how these Union soldiers went against what Order No. 11 stated was in how they destroyed property and land. Daniel B. Holmes wrote that he and his fellow members of the Seventh Kansas Cavalry lived quite well

Not from what we draw from the commissary but what we jayhawked. When we are traveling through secesh country we come to the home of some leading secesh, or of some man in the secesh army, then we take his horses and property, burn his house, or as we say, clean them out, well, in the operation we generally get a young hog … some turkeys, chickens, once in a while a crock of honey, then don’t we live.

By the end of the war the Red Leg’s faded from the scene afterwards as guerilla war diminished along the border, and “Doc” Jennison was court martialed and dismissed from service in June 1865. Even after 150 years, though, the deeds of the Red Legs are not forgotten on either side of the state line.

After the destruction of Osceola, Mo., on Sept. 24, 1861, the Kansas Brigade commanded by Brig. Gen. James Henry Lane was ordered to Kansas City to assist in the defense of that metropolis.

Eventually, the “brigade” was to join a large combined Union force commanded by Maj. Gen. John C. Fremont to attack and destroy the Confederate forces that had recently won the “Battle of the Hemp Bales” at Lexington, Mo., and who now and occupied it. This never happened.

However, the following description of Gen. Lane, whose nickname was the “Grim Chieftain,” and the Kansas Brigade was published in the Oct. 2, 1861, edition of the Leavenworth Daily Times Newspaper while the brigade was in Kansas City.

“At an early hour Col. Anthony (Note: brother of Susan B. Anthony) took his men out to meet Brig. Gen. Lane’s large force that was met about one mile out of town and as fresh and jubilant as if it had just entered the field.

They have been marching almost every day since Gen. Lane took command. They have traveled some 300 miles, often met the foe and have never been defeated. Gen. Lane has nearly recovered from his recent illness. Disease cannot wither nor ague beat his restless activity. Lane still wears a straw hat, plain coat and a grey woolen shirt and is the most marked and unmilitary man in the brigade!

The camp is on the upland west of McGee’s Addition. The tents cover several acres of ground and present a scene picturesque. Cols. Montgomery, Ritchie and Weer are here and eager for a march on Lexington.

Their account of the recent engagements in Missouri differs somewhat from the published statements and will be sent to you hereafter.

At Osceola, not less than a million dollars worth of property was taken or destroyed. The impression is general that secession is dried up in Southwest Missouri.

A force has been left at Westpoint, (Mo.), Barnesville and Fort Lincoln, (Kan.) to attend to possible emergencies. The junction of (Gens.) Lane and Sturgis disposes of many fears hitherto entertained. We hope it has not been too late.

The great object attraction here is Lane’s Brigade and the eccentric commandant of that institution is the “rage” all about here. Hundreds — and a chronicler of ordinarily brilliant imagination and less regard for strict numerical accuracy than myself would say thousands — of curious people are constantly thronging his quarters to get a glimpse of the great leader or to shove a letter from some influential individual under his nose.

However, the ubiquitous gentleman rather beat them yesterday; and he accomplished the skillful maneuver in this way:

When he arrived here on Monday, he was habilitated (dressed) in an old straw hat, cowhide boots, blue blouse which had been thrown away by a private in Montgomery’s regiment, some sort of apology for pantaloons and a butternut brown woolen shirt with beard, hair and face to correspond, and thus decorated, everyone, by instinct, could detect the hero of Black Jack and Hickory Point.

Yesterday morning, at 9 o’clock, I visited his tent and found an immense crowd wandering about the neighborhood, each inquiring of the other if he had seen or knew the whereabouts of “Ginerl Lane.”

Upon approaching his tent, I found therein a solitary gentleman seated upon an old split bottommed chair, one leg thrown across the other, intently engaged in caressing, with thumb and finger of his right hand, a beard, if not remarkably luxurious, yet splendidly variegated in color.

Upon a careful reconnaissance, I discovered this figure to be the very specimen of mortality which the adjacent crowd were so anxious to see. He had donned the new rig made especially for him in Boston — blue coat and pants, buff vest, black chapeau and feather as long as a war-leader in the “times” and such boots as would make Gen. Losee, or any other fast horseman, stick his eyes out far enough for Sam Stinson’s Thanksgiving turkey (which he is going to buy and not eat alone) to roost upon.

In this make-up, he sat as quiet and undisturbed as if he were in a wilderness, seemingly enjoying the discomfiture of the multitude about him, when a man with long whiskers, who looked as if he traveled once with a show, approached and asked if Gen. Lane were in?

“No” was the laconic reply of the hero, with the least bit of a twinkle in the northeast corner of his left eye — (I sat northeast of him) — and the victim evaporated. “Such” is war.

I see a great many Leavenworth gentlemen here, each on his own errand. For example, Col. Delahay is offering Gen. Lane a contract to lay out quarters and fractions of the city of Lexington.

R. Crozier, Esq., is trying to persuade Lane that if he will resign his seat in the senate (Lane was one of the two original U.S. senators from Kansas) and revive the old Territorial Legislature, he –Crozier — can, by a skillfully worded provision in a special act, repeal the war and revive the trade and prosperity of the country. Lane, being a little incredulous, naturally, is not quite convinced and, hence, does not resign.

Capts. Insly and Wilder are head and ears in the business of getting things ready for the contemplated march (to Lexington). Besides these gentlemen, there may be seen sitting around on stumps and old boxes and hanging on pegs and limbs of trees all that crew of familiars (people) you may see lounging about the lobby and committee rooms of the legislature aforesaid, asking for an appropriation to build a territorial road or urging the passage of an act incorporating a ferry across three mile creek where the road to the region — commonly called Pike’s Peak — crosses the same.”

The attack on Lexington, Mo., never materialized because the Confederate forces evacuated the city and marched to southwest Missouri.

In October of 1861, Gen. Lane and the Kansas Brigade eventually marched south through Missouri to Springfield and, of course, the war went on!