by Paul Colt
“Pa, they’s showin’ a white flag,” Salmon said.
Brown stood. “Cover me. Be ready on my mark.” He stood, taking a few steps down the slope toward the creek bank, folded his arms, and squinted at the flag. The man carrying it rose and came forward to the water’s edge.
“May we discuss terms?”
“Terms of what?”
“Terms to bring this standoff to a close without further bloodshed.”
“You may cross.”
Pate eyed the man. Could the old firebrand be trusted? Given his position, he felt he had little choice. He waded into the creek and crossed.
“How do you want to settle this affair?” Pate asked.
“Your surrender, if it please. Order your men to lay down their arms.”
“I have no such intention. We shall withdraw peaceably.”
“Indeed you shall.” Brown drew his pistol and cocked it. “Now order your men to lay down their arms.”
“We are under a flag of truce!”
“You may be. You are also under arrest.”
“You intend to hold me?”
“I do.”
“I’ve never heard of such a breach of military protocol.”
“And I’ve never encountered a band of border hooligans deserving of military courtesy. You may dismiss your men as soon as they lay down their arms. Boys!”
Salmon and Owen stepped over the rise, pistols leveled at Pate.
Fort Leavenworth
June 3, 1856
Bull Sumner read the governor’s order.
By authority of President Franklin Pierce, you are to establish a military constabulary to serve at my request. You are hereby requested to dispatch troops for the purpose of suppressing certain guerrilla factions operating in and about the vicinity of Lawrence and Osawatomie, Kansas Territory, under the command of one John Brown. Said guerrilla groups, also known as Jayhawkers, have precipitated border provocations and hostilities.
Wilson Shannon,
Governor, Kansas Territory
He’d been warned. Now they meant to do it. The request suggested Kansans are the problem; Missouri, men have no part in it. The president’s order on its face grated on the constitution. To make matters worse, the governor intended to use the army to enforce partisan pro-slavery policies of dubious legal standing. Undoubtedly, he did so with the president’s full support. He had his orders. As a military man, he could only put his personal reservations aside.
Brown’s Station
Osawatomie, Kansas
June 5, 1856
The Brown compound consisted of cabins occupied by the clan. While not exactly fortified, it created a highly defensible position in a clearing that afforded ample fields of fire. Colonel Sumner drew his column to a halt a hundred yards east. He drew his glass from its case, fitted it to his eye, and inspected the place. Hot summer sun shimmered in a dusty yard pecked by a handful of chickens. He handed the glass to his aide, 1st Lieutenant James E. B. Stuart, more commonly known by the initials, J.E.B.
“Short of the gun ports I see no obvious signs of resistance.”
Stuart swept the glass across the property. “I don’t see anything, either, sir. Still, knowing what these people are capable of argues for caution.”
“Do you refer to the Pottawatomie incident or Black Jack Springs?”
“Both. I doubt the old man will give up Captain Pate without a fight.”
“Likely not; though I believe we should try reason first. Put up a white pennant.”
Stuart lifted a brow. “Sergeant.” Sufficed to relay the order. “May I remind you, sir, that didn’t work out too well for Captain Pate?”
“I’m aware of that, Lieutenant. We’ll respect our flag and retain our arms. Hold the troops here, Lieutenant. Sergeant.” He nudged his horse forward.
“Company comin’!” Owen called.
John Brown stepped out on the porch of Salmon’s cabin and followed Owen’s attention east. Salmon appeared at his side.
“Looks like regular army,” Brown said.
“Wonder what’s on their mind.”
“Likely them border ruffians we run off.”
“What’s their call on the army?”
“By the look of that flag, we’re about to find out.”
Two riders, one gold braided and a standard bearer, drew rein at the compound perimeter.
“Yo, John Brown!”
“You found him. Who’s askin’?”
“Colonel Edwin Sumner, first cavalry out of Fort Leavenworth.”
“State your business.”
“I’ve come to secure the release of Captain Henry Clay Pate. I understand you have him in your possession.”
“By whose authority?”
“Governor Wilson Shannon on the authority of President Pierce.”
“What’s Pierce and the army got to do with a civil matter?”
“Treason is no civilian matter.”
“Treason?”
“The president has determined that trespass against territorial law is a treasonous offense.”
“Territorial law! Do you speak of that kangaroo courthouse in Lecompton?”
“That is the duly elected territorial government in Kansas.”
“ ‘Duly elected.’ Surely a man of your pedigree, Colonel Sumner, knows the falsehood in that.”
“I understand your frustration, sir. Still, I have my orders. May I ask by whose authority you hold Captain Pate?”
“By authority of the duly elected free-state legislature.”
“I’m afraid, sir, that claim of authority has been determined to be invalid. Lecompton is the recognized territorial authority, and Governor Shannon is its duly appointed administrator. Now, I must ask that you hand over the prisoner at once.”
“And, should I, what do you propose be done with the leader of the ruthless mob who invaded our land?”
“That will be for the governor to decide.”
“The governor.” Brown shook his head in disgust. “And if I refuse?”
“I should hope we’d not come to that.”
“He hopes.” Brown shook his head again.
“He means to take the man by force, Father,” Owen said.
“I can see that.”
“We’ve made our point. We sent the Missouri men packing at Black Jack. Surely, they will think twice about marching on us again. Trying Pate won’t amount to much. If the army tries to take him by force, we have wives and children in danger.”
“There is that. All right; it’s against my better judgment, but release him.”
Salmon scurried off. Brown turned to the expectant Sumner.
“We’ll not oppose the army here this day, Colonel, though I deeply regret as you must, seeing the army used as the partisan instrument of immoral slave-holders. It is a crime against God, nature, and the very founding principles of this country.”
Sumner held his peace.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
* * *
Lecompton
Convention Hall
June 23, 1856
Governor Wilson Shannon stood, hands clasped behind his back, silhouetted in golden light streaming through tall windows near the head of the cavernous hall. The sound of boot heels signaled the approach of a new arrival. He glanced over his shoulder.
“Colonel Sumner, thank you for coming.”
“I’m under orders, Governor. What’s on your mind?”
Shannon overlooked the edge on the question. “Straight to the point, then. You are aware, I presume, the Free State party plans a convention in Topeka on the eve of convening their so called free-state legislature on Independence Day.”
“I have heard that.”
“Then you must know that rogue assembly is not legally constituted under Kansas law. Such an assemblage can only serve to foment mischief or, at worst, rebellion. These malicious agitators must be stopped. As the duly appointed governor of Kansas, I hereby request that you disperse that illici
t body, peacefully if possible, or by harsher means should they be required.”
Sumner rubbed his chin in thought. “Are you not concerned at the prospect such action may violate the participants’ rights to free association and freedom of expression?”
“Such rights do not extend to impersonating a lawful legislative assembly.”
“They are a legislative body elected by Kansans to represent them.”
“Elected, if you will, by unlawful ballot.”
“Elected, they would charge, in response to a fraudulent ballot stolen by ineligible votes.”
“Colonel, those election results have been certified by appropriate authorities. Our opinions and the opinions of those disgruntled by defeat are of no consequence. You and I have but one duty and that is to uphold the law. Now, have I made my instructions sufficiently clear?”
“You have, sir.” Sumner turned on his heel and strode to the back of the hall.
Sycamore
They finished the house by the end of June. Micah, Clare, and little Elizabeth moved in. Caleb tunneled a passage between the smaller dugout he and Miriam shared to the adjoining larger one Micah and Clare left behind. The addition would make room for the baby budding in Miriam’s belly. They gathered around the supper table in the house to celebrate the new arrangement.
“My, my, it sure do look fine in here.” Caleb admired the spacious, comfortable room for his part in building it.
“It does, thanks to you,” Micah said. “After this crop is in next spring, we’ll build one for you up the creek on your section.”
Miriam smiled a faraway thought. “A house of our own . . . think of it. Pinch me, Caleb, so I know I ain’t dreamin’. Things sure be lookin’ up by then if the free-state legislature do right by us.”
“The legislature plans to hold its first session on Independence Day,” Micah said.
“Them Lecompton Missouri men gonna let ’em?” Caleb asked.
“The free-state legislature was elected by a fair ballot of Kansans.”
“Ain’t stopped them Missouri men from makin’ mischief before.”
“I suppose you can’t rule out trouble, but I haven’t heard any talk of Missouri opposition.”
“Them scallywags ain’t nothin’ but trouble. I don’t trust ’em no how.”
“Can’t say I blame you for that.”
“Are you men going to talk politics through the whole of a Sunday supper?” Clare asked. “There’s apple pie for dessert. Perhaps that will sweeten the two of you up.”
“Amen, sister.” Miriam rose. “Let me help you clear them dishes.”
Dear Ma and Pa,
Much has happened since last I took pen in hand. The house is finished. It is a luxury and a blessing. The dugout sheltered our needs along with all manner of burrowing creatures. I shall not miss sharing our home with nature. As if a house with a roof weren’t enough, I now have a stove to make light work of the cooking.
Hard as it is to believe, your granddaughter is a year old and toddling about the house with a curiosity to everything. Ma, you well understand the pleasures and pandemonium attendant to that. She is a delight as she threatens to utter her first words. Still more news, our Miriam is expecting a child in fall. Our days are filled with promise.
The border hostilities with Missouri continue. Micah was called to serve in the defense of Lawrence this past winter. Fortunately, that incident ended without bloodshed. We’ve not been so fortunate in recent months, though the fighting thus far has not affected us here at Sycamore.
We think of all of you often and with fondness. Know that we miss you but know, too, our purposes in moving west have indeed been rewarded. Until next time then I remain,
Clare
Thorne passing by on his way to Topeka and drew rein at the cart path leading to the Mason place. A fine new house stood in the trees by the creek. The fields beyond grew golden lush with the season’s wheat waving on a sunny summer breeze. The crop would fetch a handsome price. Mason would prosper. His property would only increase in value. How had he been so foolish as to let it slip through his fingers? Rogue stomped, impatient. All in good time. He’d have his opportunity all in good time. He let out the black at a jog.
The black-clad rider astride a prancing, black stallion passed beneath her shade. A chill storm cloud of a man ruffled her leaves at his passing. No good attended this one. He coveted close to home. A larger storm gathered beyond her horizon in the east. Which might pose the greater danger? She couldn’t say. Hers was but to watch and, in her own way, pray. Time would tell in seasons to come. For now, the house was a home. More life budded in her small brood. Her fields grew ripe as her days passed in peace.
Constitution Hall, Topeka
July 4, 1856
Thorne joined the sweating throng on the Constitution Hall steps. A holiday atmosphere buoyed spirits in spite of oppressive midsummer heat. The free-state legislature convened in commemoration of the nation’s founding. As he took in the crowd a lone horseman trotted down Kansas Street and drew rein at the hall. He tethered his horse and made his way through the crowd, climbing the steps to the entrance. Thorne followed. He entered the chamber and found Lane and Montgomery observing the proceedings. Lane lifted his chin to the man making his way down the central aisle to the dais.
“Marshal Donelson,” he said as much to himself as his companions.
Recently released, Charles Robinson looked down on the new arrival.
“Mr. Chairman.”
“Marshal Donelson. Am I to be arrested again?”
“Let us hope not, sir. I request permission to address this assembly for the purpose of reading an official proclamation by the president of the United States and the territorial governor of Kansas.”
“You are addressing the duly elected governor of Kansas Territory.”
“Your assertion; the president wishes to express his opinion on the matter.”
Robinson made a gesture of welcome. Donelson climbed the podium and addressed the free-state assembly.
“By order of the president of the United States and the governor of the Territory of Kansas, this body is hereby notified that it is not lawfully constituted to enact legislation under the laws of the Territory of Kansas.”
The chamber erupted in jeering and cat calls. Donelson reddened. He let the outburst die down.
“This assembly is hereby ordered to disperse and give no further appearance as to legislative pretense.”
The crowd grew louder and more strident.
“Very well, then. You leave me no choice.” He glanced at Robinson. “I suggest you persuade these men to comply.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“Think it more a warning.” He descended the podium and marched up the aisle to the shouts and jeers of those assembled.
“What do you suppose happens next?” Thorne asked.
“I reckon we’ll find out soon enough,” Lane said.
Donelson retreated south on Kansas. Colonel Sumner waited with a force of some two-hundred-fifty men and artillery near the Garvey Hotel.
“It’s in your hands, Colonel,” Donelson said.
“Very well.” Sumner mounted.
“Column of twos.”
“Forward, ho!”
The column marched north on Kansas to Constitution Hall. Sumner deployed his cavalry left and right anchored by artillery, giving enfilade cover to Kansas Street. Three platoons of infantry held the center, with the centermost platoon slightly withdrawn. The crowd gathered around Constitution Hall grew progressively more uneasy and angry at the show of force.
Sumner dismounted and crossed the street. The crowd parted, allowing him to climb the steps to the entry. Inside, the assembly instinctively sensed his presence. Conversation quieted as he strode down the center aisle under the expectant eye of Charles Robinson.
“Good morning, Colonel. Would you care to join us?”
“If I might.”
“Please, sir, hav
e a seat.”
Sumner took the offered chair on the dais.
Robinson turned to the assembly. “Gentlemen, the assembly will come to order for the purpose—”
Sumner rose. “I’m sorry, gentlemen, I’m afraid I must object.”
A murmur rippled through the hall to silence. Attention riveted to the speaker.
“It is my duty today to enforce the proclamations of the president and governor that you have previously heard read by duly authorized civilian authority. I am ordered to disperse this unlawful assembly as decreed under Kansas law.”
“Unlawful, or contrary to the wishes of our federal overlords?” someone shouted.
“I have no partisan feeling in the matter. I am merely a soldier under orders.”
“Orders under what constitutional authority?” Robinson asked.
“By authority of the president of the United States and his appointed representative, the territorial governor of Kansas.”
“The Constitution assures us the right of free assembly.”
“The Constitution assures your right to assemble; it does not convey the right to act as an unlawfully constituted legislative body.”
“In this case, that right has been granted to a legislative body established as the result of a fraudulent election.”
“I have no knowledge of such allegation. Now I must insist this assembly disperse with no further pretense to the purposes that brought you here.”
“Are we then to assume this order is backed by the threat of force?”
“It is, though I pray that should not be necessary.” He resumed his seat.
Unintelligible babble washed through the hall, gradually dying away as the representatives began to leave, one by one or in small groups.
When the hall was clear, Sumner followed Robinson up the aisle. Outside they were greeted by an angry crowd, frustrated by the dismissal of their representatives. Robinson took in the scene. He read the mood of the crowd and the threat implied by federal troops. He raised his hands for quiet.