“Oh if the government at Washington would only do its duty!” sighed Kate. “How can they trifle thus with the lives of innocent citizens?”
“It’s worse than that,” rejoined her husband. “Their influence protects the wolfish pack. Slavery always has need of blood-hounds to keep down the love of freedom in the human soul; and these Border Ruffians are its human blood-hounds.”
“I wonder whether Frank Pierce has any small children,” said Katie. “If he has, I wish he and his wife could have heard the feeble voice of this little one, in the midst of those shocking oaths and curses, calling out, ‘Mammy! Johnny’s ’faid.’ God of mercy! Shall I ever forget that sound!” She drew the sleeping child to her heart, with a gentle pressure, and the tears of father and mother fell fast upon him. The grandmother sat apart with her head leaning on the table, and wept also.
* * * * *
For two or three weeks after this transaction, there was a lull in the tempest. Missourian wagoners came into Lawrence often, with loads of apples, potatoes, and flour. They met with honest and kindly treatment. No one sought to take reprisals for the many loads of provisions plundered from Kansas. The bravely patient people still waited for redress by law. Soon there came news of a peaceable, industrious settler in the neighbourhood of Lawrence, who had been shot dead by a scouting party of Missourians, in mere sport, while he was pursuing his avocations. A few days after, a gang of armed ruffians entered the house of a citizen in Lawrence and carried him off, under the pretence of arresting him for treason. On their way, they were met by a company of young men from Lawrence, who had been out to inquire about the recent murder. They hailed the Missourians, and as they could show no legal authority for what they had done, they took their neighbour into their own ranks, to guard him home. They offered no violence, but, in answer to the threats of their enemies, replied, with a firmness not to be trifled with, “We are all armed; and we shall take this man home.”
Though their own horses and cattle had been seized and driven off into Missouri, drove after drove, they inquired of their neighbour whether the horse he rode belonged to those who had arrested him; and when he answered in the affirmative, they asked him to dismount and return the animal to his owners. Truly the forbearance of that persecuted people was wonderful! The United States’ government, where was vested the only power that could legally protect them, continued to receive their remonstrances and appeals with fair promises and adroit evasions; while its alliance with the slaveholding interest, in all its machinations, was too thinly veiled to be for a moment doubted. In pursuance of this policy, the President appointed Governor Shannon to rule over the Territory; a man in league with the Missourians, and bent upon carrying out their plans, as openly as it was prudent to do. Somehow or other, no outrages upon Kansas could find redress at his hands. The settlers were told to obey the laws, and be good children to their father, President Pierce, and they should be protected. “The laws!” exclaimed they. “Why these are Missouri laws, forced upon us at the point of the bayonet.” They were answered, “The President commands you to obey the laws, and if you rebel against his authority, you will be declared guilty of treason!” Meanwhile, many a smooth-tongued plotter tried to gain concessions from the friends of freedom; talking of the value of the Union, the danger of civil war, and the policy of bending before the storm; a favourite piece of advice in the mouths of those politicians, who set the storm in motion, and are guiding it in the hollow of their hands!
Was ever a people so hard bested? Disheartened by sickness; plundered of provisions; lying down every night with the prospect of murder before morning; mocked at by the government of their country; their conscientious scruples appealed to, to keep the peace where there was no peace; lured into concessions, by fair promises and false professions; threatened with a traitor’s doom, if they dared to defend their homes! And all this while, the Free States were looking on with drowsy indifference. The whig said, with bland self-importance, “They’d better obey the powers that be. I am a friend to law and order.” The democrat refused to read well-authenticated testimony on the subject, and repeated, with blind obstinacy, “I don’t believe half the stories; and if any of them are true, I dare say the free-soilers are full as much to blame as the Missourians.”
Verily, they need the trumpet of doom to waken them. And the trumpet of doom they will have, when wakening comes too late, if their slumber lasts much longer.
That little city of cabins, nestling among the lonely hills, has called and called in vain for redress and protection. The murders and robberies still go on. The Border Ruffians are assembling their forces at Franklin below, and at Douglass above. In their drunken frankness, they say they will shoot the men, violate the women, kill the children, and burn the houses; that their commission is to drive all the Yankee settlers out of the territory, by any means, and all means; and that no man will dare to prosecute them, whatever they may do. The settlers all feel that the hour for self-defence has come. Stacks of Sharpe’s rifles stand in the cabins ready loaded. Forts are erected, and breast-works thrown up. Companies of men work at them by turns, all day and all night, by the light of blazing wood. Volunteers come in from the neighbouring settlements. The Wyandott tribe of Indians offer their aid in case of need; for they have been justly treated by the Kansas people, and are unwilling to have them “wiped out.” Sentinels guard the doors of the Free State Hotel. All night, mounted patrols ride round the settlement. The drummer watches at his post, ready to beat the alarm; for they have learned that their cowardly, treacherous foes, assassin-like, prefer the midnight hour. Ever and anon, random shots come from ruffians concealed in dark corners. Women look anxiously at the doors, expecting to see the bleeding bodies of husbands, sons, or brothers, brought in. Governor Robinson, now General of the forces, still pursues his course of moderation, and orders the men not to fire till the very last extremity.
There was a small store of powder and percussion-caps in the vicinity, and various plans were devised to bring it in safely, through the scouting-parties of Missourians. “I will do it,” said Mrs. Bradford. “They will never suspect that women carry such luggage.” Another woman in the neighbourhood promptly offered to accompany her, and they started in a wagon for that purpose. They were accosted by Missouri scouts, but as their place of destination seemed to imply nothing more than visiting a friend, they deemed it gallant to let the ladies pass unmolested. The kegs of powder were covered by their ample skirts, and brought safely into Lawrence. The young men on guard threw up their caps, and cried, “Hurra! Worthy of the women of ’76!”