IN the spring of 1863, Quantrell issued a proclamation to the Federal forces of Kansas that if they did not stop burning and robbing houses, killing1 old men and women, he would in return come to Lawrence at some unexpected time and paint the city blacker than hades and make its streets run with blood.
On Blackwater, in Johnson County, and at the house of Captain Purdee, Quantrell called the Guerrillas together for the Lawrence massacre2. Todd, Jarrette, Blunt, Gregg, Trow, Anderson, Yager, Younger, Estes and Holt, all were there, and when the roll was called three hundred and ten answered promptly3 to their names. Up to the mustering4 hour Quantrell had probably not let his left hand know what his right hand had intended. Secrecy5 necessarily was to be the salvation6 of the expedition, if indeed there was any salvation for it. The rendezvous8 night was an August night—a blessed, balmy, mid-summer night—just such a night as would be chosen to give force to reflections and permit the secrets of the soul to escape. The sultry summer day had lain swarthily in the sun and panting; the sultry summer winds had whispered nothing of the shadowy woods, nothing of the babble9 of unseen brooks10. Birds spoke11 goodbye to birds in the tree tops, and the foliage12 was filled with twilight13. Quantrell sat grave and calm in the midst of his chieftains142 who were grouped about him. Further away where the shadows were, the men massed themselves in silent companies or spoke low to one another, and briefly14. Something of a foreboding, occult though it was, and undefinable, made itself manifest. The shadow of a great tragedy was impending15.
Without in the least degree minimizing or magnifying the difficulties of the undertaking16, Quantrell laid before his officers his plans for attacking Lawrence. For a week a man of the command—a cool, bold, plausible17, desperate man—had been in the city—thought it, over it, about it and around it—and he was here in their midst to speak. Would they listen to him?
“Let him speak,” said Todd, sententiously.
Lieutenant18 Fletcher Taylor came out from the shadow, bowed gravely to the group, and with the brevity of a soldier who knew better how to fight than to talk, laid bare the situation. Disguised as a stock trader, or rather, assuming the role of a speculating man, he had boldly entered Lawrence. Liberal, for he was bountifully supplied with money; keeping open rooms at the Eldridge House, and agreeable in every way and upon every occasion, he had seen all that it was necessary to see, and learned all that could be of any possible advantage to the Guerrillas. The city proper was but weakly garrisoned19; the camp beyond the river was not strong; the idea of a raid by Quantrell143 was honestly derided20; the streets were broad and good for charging horsemen, and the hour for the venture was near at hand.
“You have heard the report,” Quantrell said with a deep voice, “but before you decide it is proper that you should know it all. The march to Lawrence is a long one; in every little town there are soldiers; we leave soldiers behind us; we march through soldiers; we attack the town garrisoned by soldiers; we retreat through soldiers; and when we would rest and refit after the exhaustive expedition, we have to do the best we can in the midst of a multitude of soldiers. Come, speak out, somebody. What is it, Anderson?”
“Lawrence or hell, but with one proviso, that we kill every male thing.”
“Todd?”
“Lawrence, if I knew not a man would get back alive.”
“Gregg?”
“Lawrence, it is the home of Jim Lane; the foster mother of the Red Legs; the nurse of the Jayhawkers.”
“Shepherd?”
“Lawrence. I know it of old; ‘niggers’ and white men are just the same there; its a Boston colony and it should be wiped out.”
“Jarrette?”
“Lawrence, by all means. I’ve had my eye on it for a long time. The head devil of all this killing144 and burning in Jackson County; I vote to fight it with fire—to burn it before we leave it.”
“Dick Maddox?”
“Lawrence; and an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth; God understands better than we do the equilibrium22 of Civil War.”
“Holt?”
“Lawrence, and be quick about it.”
“Yager?”
“Where my house once stood there is a heap of ruins. I haven’t a neighbor that’s got a house—Lawrence and the torch.”
“Blunt?”
“Count me whenever there is killing. Lawrence first and then some other Kansas town; the name is nothing.”
“Have you all voted?”
“All.”
“Then Lawrence it is; saddle up, men!”
Thus was the Lawrence Massacre inaugurated.
Was it justifiable23? Is there much of anything that is justifiable in Civil War? Originally, the Jayhawkers in Kansas had been very poor. They coveted24 the goods of their Missouri neighbors, made wealthy or well-to-do by prosperous years of peace and African slavery. Before they became soldiers they had been brigands25, and before they destroyed houses in the name of retaliation26 they had plundered27 them at the instance of personal145 greed. The first Federal officers operating in Kansas; that is to say, those who belonged to the state, were land pirates or pilferers. Lane was a wholesale28 plunderer29; Jennison, in the scaly30 gradation, stood next to Lane; Anthony next to Jennison; Montgomery next to Anthony; Ransom31 next to Montgomery, and so on down until it reached to the turn of captains, lieutenants32, sergeants33, corporals and privates. Stock in herds34, droves and multitudes were driven from Missouri into Kansas. Houses gave up their furniture; women, their jewels; children, their wearing apparel; store-rooms, their contents; the land, their crops, and the banks, their deposits. To robbery was added murder; to murder, arson35, and to arson depopulation. Is it any wonder, then, that the Missourian whose father was killed should kill in return, whose house was burnt should burn in return, whose property was plundered, should pillage36 in return, whose life was made miserable37, should hunt as a wild beast and rend7 accordingly? Many such were in Quantrell’s command—many whose lives were blighted38; who in a night were made orphans39 and paupers40; who saw the labor41 and accumulation of years swept away in an hour of wanton destruction; who for no reason on earth save that they were Missourians, were hunted from hiding place to hiding place; who were preyed42 upon while not a single cow remained or a single shock of grain; who were shot at, bedeviled and proscribed43, and who, no matter whether146 union or disunion, were permitted to have neither flag nor country.
It was the summer night of August 16, 1863, that the Guerilla column, having at its head its ominous44 banner, marched west from Purdee’s place on Blackwater. With its simple soldiers, or rather volunteers for the expedition, were Colonels Joseph Holt and Boaz Roberts. Officers of the regular Confederate army, who were in Missouri on recruiting service when the march began, fell into line as much from habit as from inclination46.
The first camp was made upon a stream midway between Pleasant Hill and Lone45 Jack21, where the grazing was good and the hiding places excellent. All day Quantrell concealed47 himself there, getting to saddle just at dark and ordering Todd up from the rear to the advance. Passing Pleasant Hill to the north and marching on rapidly fifteen miles, the second camp was at Harrelson’s, twenty-five miles from the place of starting. At three o’clock in the afternoon of the second day, the route was resumed and followed due west to Aubrey, a pleasant Kansas stream, abounding48 in grass and timber. Here Quantrell halted until darkness set in, feeding the horses well and permitting the men to cook and eat heartily49. At eight o’clock the march began again and continued on throughout the night, in the direction of Lawrence. Three pilots were pressed into service, carried with the command as far147 as they knew anything of the road or the country, and then shot down remorselessly in the nearest timber.
On the morning of the 21st, Lawrence was in sight. An old man a short distance upon the right of the road was feeding his hogs50 in the gray dawn, the first person seen to stir about the doomed51 place. Quantrell sent Cole Younger over to the hog-pen to catechize the industrious52 old farmer and learn from him what changes had taken place in the situation since Taylor had so thoroughly53 accomplished54 his mission. Younger, dressed as a Federal lieutenant, exhausted55 speedily the old man’s limited stock. Really, but little change had taken place. Across the Kansas river there were probably four hundred soldiers in camp, and on the Lawrence side about seventy-five. As for the rebels, he didn’t suppose there was one nearer than Missouri; certainly none within striking distance of Lawrence.
It was a lovely morning. The green of the fields and the blue of the skies were glad together. Birds sang sweetly. The footsteps of autumn had not yet been heard in the land.
“The camp first,” was the cry which ran through the ranks, and Todd, leading Quantrell’s old company, dashed down, yelling and shooting. Scarcely any resistance was made, as every time they stuck their heads out of a tent it was met with a bullet. Ridden over, shot in their blankets, paralyzed, some of them with terror, they ran frantically56 about. What could they148 do against the quickest and deadliest pistol shots along the border?
Bill Anderson, Todd, Jarrette, Little, McGuire, Long, Bill McGuire, Richard Kenney, Allen Parmer, Frank James, Clemmons, Shepherd, Hinton, Blunt, Harrison Trow, and the balance of the older men did the most of the killing. They went for revenge, and they took it. These men killed. They burned. The Federals on the opposite side of the river made scarcely any attempt to come to the rescue of their butchered comrades. A few skirmishes held them in check. It was a day of darkness and woe57. Killing ran riot. The torch was applied58 to every residence; the air was filled with cries for mercy; dead men lay in cellars, upon streets, in parlors59 where costly60 furniture was, on velvet61 carpets. The sun came up and flooded the sky with its radiance and yet the devil’s work was not done. Smoke ascended62 into the air, and the crackling of blazing rafters and crashing of falling walls filled the air. A true story of the day’s terrible work will never be told. Nobody knows it. It is a story of episodes, tragic—a story full of collossal horrors and unexpected deliverances.
Frank James, just as he was in the act of shooting a soldier in uniform who had been caught in a cellar—his pistol was at the Federal’s head—heard an exceedingly soft and penetrating63 voice calling out to him, “Do not kill him for my sake. He has eight children who149 have no mother.” James looked and saw a beautiful girl just turned sixteen, blushing at her boldness and trembling before him. In the presence of so much grace and loveliness her father was disarmed64. He remembered his own happy youth, his sister, not older than the girl beside him, his mother who had always instilled65 into his mind lessons of mercy and charity. He put up his pistol.
“Take him, he is yours. I would not harm a hair of his head for the whole state of Kansas,” said James.
Judge Carpenter was killed in the yard of H. C. Clark, and Colonel Holt, one of the Confederate officers with the expedition, saved Clark. He saved others besides Clark. He had been a union man doing business in Vernon County, Missouri, as a merchant. Jennison, belonging to old Jim Lane of Lawrence, noted66 “nigger” thief, robber and house burner, who always ran from the enemy, raided the neighborhood in which he lived, plundered him of his goods, burnt his property, insulted his family, and Holt joined the Confederate army for revenge. The notorious general, James H. Lane, to get whom Quantrell would gladly have left and sacrificed the balance of the victims, made his escape through a corn field, hotly pursued but too speedily mounted to be captured. He swam the river.
There were two camps in Lawrence at the time of the attack, one camp of the “nigger” troops being located at the southern end of Massachusetts street and150 the other camp of white soldiers were camped in the heart of the city. In this latter camp there were twenty-one infantry67, eighteen of whom were killed in the first wild charge.
Cole Younger had dragged from his hiding place in a closet a very large man who had the asthma68. In his fright and what with his hurry the poor man could not articulate. Younger’s pistol was against his heart when his old wife cried out, “For God’s sake, do not shoot him. He has not slept in a bed for nine years.” This appeal and the asthma together, caused Younger to roar out, “I never intended to harm a hair of his head.”
Todd and Jarrette, while roaming through Eldridge’s house in search of adventure, came upon a door that was locked. Todd knocked and cried out that the building was in flames and it was time to get away. “Let it burn and be d——d,” a deep voice answered, and then the voices of three men were heard in conversation. Jarrette threw his whole weight against the door, bursting it open, and as he did so Todd fired and killed one of the three, Jarrette another and Todd the third, who were hiding there. They were soldiers who had escaped in the morning’s massacre, and who did not even make an effort to defend themselves. Perhaps the number killed will never be accurately69 known, but I should say there were at least one thousand killed, and none wounded. The loss of property amounted to151 the enormous sum of $1,500,000. The total buildings consumed were one hundred and eighty-nine. In the city proper Quantrell had one man killed and two wounded. The man who lost his life was drunk when the firing began. His name was Larkin Skaggs, and the fighting at Lawrence was the first he had ever done as a Guerilla.
Fate favored Quantrell from the time he left Missouri until he returned to Missouri. A man from Johnson County, Kansas, started by an Indian trail to inform the people of Lawrence of his coming. He rode too carelessly and his horse fell and so injured him that he died. A full company of soldiers were situated70 at Oxford71, but they seemed more anxious to keep out of the way than to fight.
As Quantrell retreated from Lawrence, he sat upon the right end, William Gregg with twenty men upon the left. Bill Anderson with twenty men, Gregg took with him Frank James, Arch Clemmons, Little, Morrow, Harrison Trow and others of the most desperate men of the band. Anderson took Hockinsmith, Long, McGuire, Parmer, Hicks, Hi George, Doc Campbell and other equally desperate characters. Each was ordered to burn a swath as they marched back parallel with the main body and to kill in proportion as he burned. Soon on every hand were columns of smoke beginning to rise, and soon was heard the rattle72 of firing arms from around the consuming152 houses, and old farmers who had taken up arms were shot down as a holiday frolic. This unforgiving farewell lasted for twelve miles until pressed too heavily in the rear. Quantrell was forced to recall his detachments and look to the safety of his aggregate73 columns.
Missouriward from Kansas ten miles, Quantrell halted to rest and eat a little. Cole Younger rode out into a cabbage patch and got himself a cabbage head and began to eat it. The lady of the house came out. Younger said:
“This is a very fine cabbage you have.” The lady replied:
“I hope it will choke you to death, you d——d old rebel son-of-a-buck.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” was the reply. “Where is your husband?”
Before any of the men had finished eating, the pickets74 were drawn75 into the rear, pressed to the girth. Todd and Jarrette held out as two lines that had not broken fast. Step by step, and firing at everyone in pursuit, at arm’s length, for ten miles further the Federals would not charge. Overwhelming in numbers though they were, and capable of taking at any moment everything in opposition76 to them, they contented77 themselves with firing at long range and keeping always at and about a deadly distance from the rear. The Guerillas, relying principally upon dash and revolver,153 felt the need of a charge. Quantrell halted the whole column for a charge. The detachments on either flank had some time since been gathered up and the men brought face to face with urgent need. Turned about quickly and dressed up in line handsomely as he came trotting78 up in the rear guard Todd fell into line upon the left and Quantrell gave the word. The Federal pursuit had hardly time to fire a volley before it was rent into shreds79 and scattered80 upon the prairie.
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1
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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massacre
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| n.残杀，大屠杀；v.残杀，集体屠杀 | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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4
mustering
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| v.集合，召集，集结（尤指部队）( muster的现在分词 )；（自他人处）搜集某事物；聚集；激发 | |
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5
secrecy
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| n.秘密，保密，隐蔽 | |
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6
salvation
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| n.（尤指基督）救世，超度，拯救，解困 | |
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7
rend
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| vt.把…撕开，割裂；把…揪下来，强行夺取 | |
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8
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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9
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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10
brooks
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| n.小溪( brook的名词复数 ) | |
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11
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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12
foliage
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| n.叶子，树叶，簇叶 | |
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13
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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14
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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15
impending
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| a.imminent, about to come or happen | |
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16
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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17
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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18
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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19
garrisoned
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| 卫戍部队守备( garrison的过去式和过去分词 )； 派部队驻防 | |
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20
derided
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| v.取笑，嘲笑( deride的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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21
jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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22
equilibrium
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| n.平衡，均衡，相称，均势，平静 | |
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23
justifiable
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| adj.有理由的，无可非议的 | |
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24
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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25
brigands
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| n.土匪，强盗( brigand的名词复数 ) | |
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26
retaliation
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| n.报复，反击 | |
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27
plundered
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| 掠夺，抢劫( plunder的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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28
wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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plunderer
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| 掠夺者 | |
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30
scaly
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| adj.鱼鳞状的；干燥粗糙的 | |
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ransom
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| n.赎金，赎身；v.赎回，解救 | |
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lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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33
sergeants
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| 警官( sergeant的名词复数 )； （美国警察）警佐； （英国警察）巡佐； 陆军（或空军）中士 | |
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34
herds
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| 兽群( herd的名词复数 )； 牧群； 人群； 群众 | |
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35
arson
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| n.纵火，放火 | |
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pillage
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| v.抢劫；掠夺；n.抢劫，掠夺；掠夺物 | |
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37
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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38
blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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39
orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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40
paupers
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| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
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41
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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42
preyed
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| v.掠食( prey的过去式和过去分词 )；掠食；折磨；（人）靠欺诈为生 | |
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43
proscribed
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| v.正式宣布（某事物）有危险或被禁止( proscribe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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45
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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46
inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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47
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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48
abounding
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| adj.丰富的，大量的v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
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49
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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50
hogs
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| n.（尤指喂肥供食用的）猪( hog的名词复数 )；（供食用的）阉公猪；彻底地做某事；自私的或贪婪的人 | |
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51
doomed
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| 命定的 | |
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52
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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53
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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54
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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55
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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56
frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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57
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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58
applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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59
parlors
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| 客厅( parlor的名词复数 )； 起居室； （旅馆中的）休息室； （通常用来构成合成词）店 | |
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60
costly
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| adj.昂贵的，价值高的，豪华的 | |
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61
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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62
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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disarmed
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| v.裁军( disarm的过去式和过去分词 )；使息怒 | |
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instilled
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| v.逐渐使某人获得（某种可取的品质），逐步灌输( instill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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asthma
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| n.气喘病，哮喘病 | |
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accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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situated
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| adj.坐落在...的，处于某种境地的 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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aggregate
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| adj.总计的，集合的；n.总数；v.合计；集合 | |
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pickets
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| 罢工纠察员( picket的名词复数 ) | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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