Then Governor Robinson’s house, on the brow of the hill, was a pleasant object in the scenery; for he was a courteous and cultivated man, with a good library, always at their disposal. There was so much quiet gentle strength about him, that his presence seemed to ensure protection. The last and strongest reason why Alice loved Mount Oread was that William had taken land a little beyond it, and there was to be their future home, snug as a bird’s nest, in a “sunny nook of greenery.” He was building a cabin there, and every day she saw him descending toward Lawrence, with the axe on his shoulder; and as he came nearer, she could hear him whistling, “Home, sweet home.” She was watching for him now, and hoping he would return in season for dinner. Therefore she had not noticed the flurried manner with which Kate hastened to wash her face, and wipe the tobacco stains from her bonnet. While she was thus employed, the old lady said to her youngest daughter, “Flora, go and call John and Thomas from the field. Dinner is nearly ready.”
“No, mother! No!” exclaimed Katie. “Never send her out! Never!” Perceiving that her quick emphatic manner had arrested the attention of all the inmates of her dwelling, she added in a lower tone, “I will go, myself.”
But her words had aroused a train of thoughts, which was becoming more and more familiar to Alice. The men in the vicinity often came to ask council of Mr. Bradford and Mr. Bruce; and of course their talk was mainly concerning the neighbouring state of Missouri. She heard them tell how ruffians and rowdies came over the border with bowie-knives and pistols to drive the free citizens of Kansas away from the polls; to deprive them of liberty to make their own laws, and compel them to be governed by the code of Missouri, which in many ways violated their moral sense. She heard them say that spies from Missouri were in every neighbourhood, watching those emigrants who dared to say any thing in favour of having the soil of Kansas free. Why was Katie so flushed and flurried? Was the danger approaching nearer than she was aware of? She turned anxiously toward Mount Oread, and longed for a sight of William. What if he should not return till after night-fall? He, whose honest mouth would never utter a word that was false to freedom, whatever might be his personal risk? Unable to keep back the crowding tears, she slipped behind the cotton curtain that screened their sleeping apartment, and kneeling beside their rude couch, she prayed earnestly to God to protect her husband.
William had not arrived when they sat down to dine, and his wife made various pretences for rising to remove a plate, or bring a cup of water; but in reality to look out upon Mount Oread. At last, she heard his voice, and rushed out to meet him, with an outburst of emotion that surprised them all. John shook his head mournfully, and sighed as he said, “Poor Alice! How she idolizes him!”
Katie had the discretion not to mention her rencontre with the Border Ruffian to any but her husband, who grew red in the face and clenched his fist, while he listened, but immediately subsided into a calmer mood, and said, “We must be careful never to lose sight of the best interests of Kansas, in our resentment at the wrongs and insults we are continually receiving. We will give these lawless rascals no excuse for molesting us, and wait with patience for the American government to protect its unoffending citizens.”
On the afternoon of the same day, a gawky lad, with a “long nine” in his mouth, and hands in his trowsers pockets, came to the door, saying, “The ole woman’s tuk wi’ fits almighty strong; and the ole man wants you to cum, and bring along some o’ yer doctor’s stuff. He’s heern tell that yer death on fits.”
Mrs. Bradford had become so accustomed to the South-Western lingo, that she understood “the ole man” to be the lad’s father. She knew very well that he was a Missouri spy, of the lowest order, an accomplice in many villainous proceedings against the free-soil citizens of Kansas. She felt a loathing of the whole family, not unmingled with resentment; but she rose quickly to prepare the medicines; thinking to herself, “What hypocrisy it is for me to profess to be a believer in Christianity, if I cannot cheerfully return good for evil, in such a case as this.” She administered relief to the sufferer, as tenderly as if she had been her own sister; and the poor woman expressed gratitude for it, in her uncouth way. When Kate remarked that they would feel more kindly toward the Yankees, if they knew them better, she replied, “I allers tole my ole man I wished they wouldn’t keep up such a muss. But Lor’, what the use o’ speakin’. It’s jist like spittin’ agin the wind.”
That night, Mr. Bradford’s horse and saddle were stolen. They never knew by whom; but they were afterward seen in Missouri.
In the midst of discouragements and dangers, the brave band of settlers went on with their work. Better stores were erected, and, one after another, the temporary cabins gave place to comfortable stone houses.
An Emigrant Aid Society had been formed in the North, whose object it was to assist in the erection of mills, school-houses, and other buildings, for the public benefit. Their motive was partly financial, inasmuch as all such improvements rapidly increased the value of property in Kansas; and they were well aware that the outward prosperity, as well as the moral strength of a state depended greatly upon encouraging emigrants to go from communities where they had been accustomed to free institutions, educational privileges, orderly habits, and salutary laws. Their motives in extending a helping hand to these infant colonies, were both morally good and worldly wise. There was no partiality in their management of affairs. Emigrants from the Southern states shared their benefits equally with those from the North. Settlers were pouring in from all sections of the country; but chiefly from the North and West, because the hardy inhabitants of those states are always ready for enterprise and toil. Many of them had large families of children, and the small half-furnished tavern, called the Cincinnati House, was quite insufficient to afford them shelter while cabins were prepared for them. In the course of their first summer, John Bradford and his band of pilgrims had the satisfaction of seeing a noble stone hotel, of three stories, rise in Massachusetts street, making the place beautiful with its glazed windows, and doors of polished black walnut.