The prime object of the guerrillas was to capture Gen. Jim Lane, who resided at Lawrence, and retaliate upon him for the burning and sacking of Osceola, Mo., which had been accomplished by men under his command. But Lane fled on the first alarm, and concealed himself in an adjacent cornfield. Foiled in their desire to capture him, the enraged guerrillas turned their vengeance loose upon the ill-fated town, killing every man who came within range of their deadly revolvers. Quantrell's orders were to kill all the men, but to spare the women and children. By accident, however,—possibly by design of some drunken privates—several women and children were shot; and this fact was made use of in subsequent reports of the affair to greatly exaggerate its barbarous details. It was certainly sufficiently inexcusable and barbarous without exaggeration. The torch was applied to the light frame buildings as the killing progressed, and the beautiful little city was soon enveloped in a sheet of flames. Stores and saloons were broken into and robbed of their contents, and the guerrilla band soon became a howling mob of drunken madmen. The dreadful harvest of death and destruction lasted nearly all day, and when the guerrillas took up their line of retreat toward the borders of Missouri, the city of Lawrence had disappeared from the face of the earth. In this affair Jesse James is said to have killed thirty men and Frank thirty-five. They seemed to take a sort of devilish pride in numbering their victims.
Quantrell and his men hastily retraced their steps, but they were terribly harassed during the entire return march by the Kansas militia and Federal troops that hurriedly concentrated and went in pursuit of them. This force has been reliably estimated at fully seven thousand, and nothing but hard marching, determined fighting, and an endurance that has never been equalled saved the guerrillas from total destruction. At Black Jack, about fifteen miles from Lawrence, a stand was made and some brisk fighting occurred. The guerrillas took to cover in a large barn which stood at the edge of an orchard. Several assaults were made to dislodge them but in vain. The horses of the guerrillas were suffering severely, however, and realizing that without horses they would be unable to get out of Kansas, the guerrillas made a desperate charge in which thirty-two of the militia were killed and a panic was the result. But the guerrillas did not care to follow up the victory, as every moment was precious. The militia were swarming and closing in upon them rapidly, and it was only by the rarest stroke of fortune that Quantrell and his men ever escaped from Kansas; this rare fortune was due entirely to the unparalleled cowardice of three hundred well armed and mounted men who had been organized into a militia force near Spring Hill, Kansas. These men exhibited remarkable bravery until the enemy appeared in sight, when they immediately retreated and never halted until they were ten miles from the place where they saw Quantrell. Had they engaged the enemy, which was one-third less in number, besides badly fatigued, they could either have beaten Quantrell or held him at bay until enough reinforcements were received to have annihilated every one of the guerrilla band.
It was a continual fight, however, and as Quantrell predicted, many of his followers were left dead and unburied on the hot prairies, where they became the prey of carrion birds. At Shawnee, in the northern part of Johnson county, the last stand was made, but the fight lasted only a few minutes, for the guerrillas, appreciating the critical position they occupied, with nearly five thousand militia gradually surrounding them, in the manner of early settlers who join in general hunts for the destruction of obnoxious wild animals, Quantrell soon ordered a charge and retreat. After breaking through the lines the guerrillas disbanded and each one then considered alone his own safety; this rendered a general pursuit impossible, and with a total loss of twenty-one men the bands reached the coverts of Jackson and Clay counties, where they were comparatively safe.
DESPERATE FIGHTING BY SQUADS.
After spending a month in apparent leisure, during which time Jesse and Frank James were frequent night visitors to their old home, Quantrell again called his command together for the purpose of resuming active hostilities, but he changed his tactics and added new terrors to the border counties of Missouri. The command was divided into squads of twenty and thirty, by which means they could make bold dashes at various points almost simultaneously and so confuse their enemies as to make pursuit futile. Indeed this peculiar and remorseless warfare gave rise to the strange superstition that Quantrell was some spirit of darkness who could transport himself and troops from place to place in the twinkle of an eye. He became no less dreaded by the Federal troops than by Union citizens, and day and night non-combatants as well as armed militiamen fell victims to the terrible guerrillas.
In the early part of October, Jesse James, in charge of a squad of twenty-five men, learning of the movements of a company of Federal cavalry under command of Capt. Ransom, who was marching toward Pleasant Hill, made a rapid detour and flanked the Federals five miles north of Blue Springs. Jesse selected a place near the road which was well screened by a dense thicket; here he stationed his men, and when the Federals came riding leisurely by, unconscious of any lurking danger, suddenly a storm of bullets poured upon them from the thicket and men fell like leaves in an autumn gust. The entire company was immediately thrown into the greatest confusion. The youthful commander of the guerrillas made the most of his advantage and ordered a dash into the confused and stricken ranks of the enemy, which he shot down with as little resistance as is offered by dumb animals. The havoc was terrible, for out of nearly one hundred Federals less than one-third the number escaped, while the loss of the guerrillas was only one killed and three slightly wounded.