Stark Mad Abolitionists

by Robert K. Sutton

  Even before Reeder’s removal, the legislature had gained the upper hand. The law establishing Kansas Territory allowed the territorial legislature to override a territorial governor’s veto, and the pro-slavery legislature wasted little time overturning Governor Reeder’s vetoes. Of the laws it passed, the slave code was particularly heinous. Three sections carried the death penalty for anyone who attempted to incite a slave rebellion. Assisting a slave to escape carried a ten-year sentence. Anyone who deigned to “print, write, introduce into, publish or circulate, or cause to be brought into, printed, written, published or circulated,” or anything to induce “slaves to escape from the service of their masters, or to resist their authority, … shall be guilty of felony, and be punished by imprisonment and hard labor for a term not less than five years.” And, finally, “no person who is conscientiously opposed to holding slaves, or who does not admit the right to hold slaves in this territory, shall sit as a juror on the trial of any prosecution for any violation of any of the sections of this act.”77

  As the “bogus legislature”—the title contemporary antislavery residents tacked onto the pro-slavery territorial legislature—was in session, Charles Robinson called for a convention of free-state Kansans in Lawrence on June 8, 1855. This small gathering called for a larger convention on June 25, also in Lawrence, which was attended by representatives from nearly every community in the territory. They debated a course of action and passed resolutions, stating that they were in “favor of making Kansas a free territory, and as a consequence a free state.” In one resolution, they voted to not meddle in the affairs of Missouri, but vowed that Missouri would not be allowed to participate in Kansas politics. The final resolution declared that since the territorial legislators owed “their election to a combined system of force and fraud, we do not feel bound to obey any law of their enacting.”78 While these resolutions held no legal authority, they served to meld the antislavery residents in the territory into a cohesive body.

  Shortly after the June 25, 1855 convention, and while the “bogus legislature” was in session, the residents of Lawrence celebrated their first Fourth of July in Kansas. In many ways, the festivities did more to galvanize antislavery Kansans together than anything up to that time. According to Sara Robinson, everyone in Lawrence and the surrounding area was invited, including delegations from the Delaware and Shawnee Indian tribes (the Delaware Nation continued to occupy the land just north of the Kansas River from Lawrence). She estimated that between 1,500 and 2,000 attended. “After the reading of the Declaration of Independence, whose embodied truths seemed to have gained new vitality, new force, since we last listened to it,” Sara Robinson wrote, next “came the oration,” by her husband, Charles Robinson. He concluded his speech, saying: “Fellow-citizens, … shall we have freedom for all the people, and consequent prosperity, or slavery for a part, with the blight and mildew inseparable from it? Choose ye this day which you will serve, Slavery or Freedom…. If slavery is best for Kansas, then choose it; but, if liberty, then choose that.”79

  Charles Robinson was quickly expanding his role beyond the Kansas agent for the Emigrant Aid Company to the de facto leader of antislavery residents in the territory. In addition to his political efforts, marshaling the antislavery residents to oppose the “bogus legislature,” it was becoming clear that violence was a real possibility. Again, Amos Lawrence came to the rescue. In his diary, he wrote that “I must trust Providence and try to do my duty,” and clearly he saw his duty as taking a more aggressive position on supporting the antislavery efforts in Kansas. Later in the same diary entry, he reported that he “paid $4,000 for rifles for Kansas settlers.” To ensure that the weapons safely reached the intended recipients in Kansas—without raising suspicion—he ordered the crates labeled for shipment to the “church of the pilgrims” in Lawrence.80

  At the same time Lawrence purchased and shipped rifles to Kansas, James B. Abbott, a member of the third Emigrant Aid Company party, traveled to the East to acquire weapons. Abbott was a personal friend of the owner of the Sharps Rifle Manufacturing Company in Connecticut; he sold his property in Lawrence to fund his trip and left for Connecticut in July 1855. At that time, Sharps Rifles were considered superior to all other rifles available.

  Years later, Abbott wrote about his adventure while he was the director of the Kansas Historical Society. He visited the Sharps Company and negotiated an excellent price for one hundred rifles since “they [the company owners] were good free-state men and would sell us arms on generous terms.” He arrived in Boston on August 10 and “presented [his] credentials and letters to Mr. Eli Thayer and Amos A. Lawrence…. After an hour’s consultation with a few friends, Mr. Lawrence gave me an order on the Sharpe’s [sic] Rifle Company for one hundred rifles—costing $2,600.”81

  From Boston, Abbot went to Providence, where he “collected between two and three hundred dollars, and thence to Hartford and arranged for the packing of the rifles in a manner not to excite the suspicions of our pro-slavery neighbors, as the packages should pass up the Missouri river.” His next stop was New York, where he “called upon Horace Greeley, who gave his influence and zealous efforts to the raising of funds for our cause. At Mr. Greeley’s suggestion, a meeting was called to be held at the Astor House,” where “special invitations were given to over twenty of the active and wealthy opponents of slavery in New York” He concluded, writing that “my efforts in behalf of army organization in Kansas were successful. Sufficient money was collected to pay for 117 Sharpe’s [sic] rifles, a twelve-pound brass howitzer, and quite a large quantity of fixed ammunition, and enough to pay the freight to Lawrence.”

  For fear that he would be recognized on the return journey, Abbott disguised himself with different clothing, such that even his friends did not recognize him. He directed that the rifles be shipped in pieces, marked as books, on the theory that no one would bother to open the crates, and even if someone did, most inspectors would not see that the crates contained rifle parts. As a further precaution, he traveled separately from the crates, for fear that even with the disguise, he might be recognized in connection with the shipment. When he returned to Lawrence, he found that the five crates, on which the bills of lading marked the contents as “books,” had arrived safely, that the rifles and howitzer were properly assembled, and that the free-state army was well armed with the finest rifles then available.82

  In time, more “books” arrived in Kansas. As more and more Emigrant Aid Company emigrants bought (or were given) Sharps rifles, they soon became known as “Beecher’s Bibles.” The Reverend Henry Ward Beecher was quoted as saying that he “believed that the Sharps Rifle was a truly moral agency, and that there was more moral power in one of those instruments, so far as the slaveholders of Kansas were concerned, than in a hundred Bibles. You might just as well … read the Bible to Buffaloes as to those fellows who follow Atchison; … but they have a supreme respect for the logic that is embodied in [the] Sharps rifle.” To back up his words, Beecher donated and urged his congregation to donate funds for purchasing the rifles. Beecher’s pronouncement was a sign of the times. If a minister of Christian principles would not only advocate an end to slavery, but would also admonish his flock to contribute to the purchase of guns for the residents of Kansas, little room is left to wonder at the strength of passions at that time.83

  Henry Ward Beecher. Brady-Handy Collection, Library of Congress.

  As Charles Robinson was beginning to organize the antislavery faction in Kansas to oppose the “bogus legislature,” another political figure entered the scene. James Lane moved to Lawrence from Indiana in the spring of 1855. Lane had been active in Indiana politics, serving as lieutenant governor and as a member of the US House of Representatives. At the end of his term in Congress, James Lane decided to seek his political fortunes in Kansas Territory. At first, it was unclear where Lane’s political views would land. He had voted for the Kansas-Nebraska Act while serving in Congress, and he earlier had been quoted as saying
that he “would as soon buy a negro as a mule,” suggesting that he was sympathetic to the institution of slavery. When he arrived in Kansas, however, he underwent a transformation. He was an opportunist, and he quickly recognized that his best chances for political success lay with the antislavery faction, rather than with the pro-slavery side. So he threw his support behind the antislavery camp.84

  James Henry Lane, Brady-Handy Collection, Library of Congress.

  James Lane had a gift, crucial to political success at the time—he was a spellbinding orator. He could modulate his voice from shrill to grave. One minute he had his audience rolling with laughter; in the next, they were in tears. Although Lane allied with the antislavery side by wholeheartedly opposing the introduction of slavery into Kansas, he just as strongly opposed admitting free blacks into the territory, believing that blacks were inferior to whites. Robinson and many New Englanders, on the other hand, believed that African Americans were equal to whites and had as much right to live in Kansas, with the same rights and privileges.

  Lane was an opportunist. Years later, John J. Ingalls, a future US senator from Kansas, said of Lane that “to reach the goal of his ambition he had no conviction he would not sell, made no promise he would not break, and had no friend he would not betray.”85 Lane calculated that his political fortunes in Kansas were with the antislavery faction. He also observed that many Kansas immigrants opposed the institution of slavery but were prejudiced against free blacks as well. He calculated an opening and aspired to place himself at the head of that faction.

  Charles Robinson continued to hold antislavery conventions in Lawrence. Each one drew larger crowds, culminating in the largest meeting to date in August 1855. At that meeting, there was a call for an even larger convention to be held in Big Springs, a small community between Topeka and Lawrence. Each community was authorized to elect a delegate. At the conclusion of the August meeting, James Lane announced that he would give a major speech on the issues of the day. He marshaled his oratorical skills, had his audience completely enraptured, and when Lawrence voted to send a delegate to the Big Springs convention—to the surprise of many—he was elected as the community’s representative over Charles Robinson.

  If Robinson was unhappy with his non-election as a delegate, he did not share this in his autobiography or any of his letters, nor did his wife reference this in her book. Instead, he continued to do everything in his power to ensure that Kansas would become a free state. He discussed the Big Springs Convention, held on September 5, and noted that former Governor Reeder had joined the antislavery forces and attended the convention. The convention passed resolutions to refute the “bogus legislature” and the officials it appointed, and called for free-state citizens to ignore or take whatever action was necessary to remove any power from that body. In other words, they were taking the very risky stance of saying that they would not obey the laws passed by the territorial legislature. For all intents and purposes, it declared that the Free-State Party, created by the convention, was the legal arm of the territory. It called for new elections, and placed Reeder in nomination as the territorial representative to Congress.

  Robinson noted that the platform committee, chaired by James Lane, proposed planks that would ban free blacks from the territory and condemn radical abolitionists. It also proposed the non-interference of slavery where it existed and defended the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850. Further, it proposed that any slaveholders in the territory would be treated fairly, so that they would be protected from financial ruin if and when the territory became a free state. Robinson noted that there was one, and only one, dissenting vote in the convention—that of Charles Stearns—whom Robinson referred to as a Garrisonian. Stearns rebuked the convention for not going far enough. Kansas becoming a free state was but one effort; he wanted the convention platform written to also make a statement that slavery should be immediately abolished throughout the entire country.86

  Robinson did not agree with much of the Big Springs platform. He and Eli Thayer saw the effort in Kansas as a wedge driven into the institution of slavery nationwide. As he continued the discussion of the convention, he wrote that the fight against slavery would end when all men were “free and abolitionists would disappear when there was no slavery to abolish.” In other words, he believed that both moderates and radicals had the same goal—to end slavery. Several sentences later, Robinson noted another man who arrived in the territory about a month after the Big Springs Convention, who was as disgusted with the convention as Charles Stearns. This man was against the Free-State Party, and was particularly incensed with the provision that banned free blacks from the territory. His name was John Brown.87

  All free-state residents, whether they were radical or moderate, were unified in their opposition to the “bogus legislature,” and together they were waiting to see what was in store with the new territorial governor. They did not need to wait long. A week before President Pierce fired Governor Reeder, he appointed Wilson Shannon, a former governor of Ohio, a member of Congress, and a former minister to Mexico to the post. Shannon arrived in Kansas and assumed his duties on September 7, 1855. He had solid Democratic Party credentials, had voted for the Kansas-Nebraska Act as a congressman, and was known to have pro-slavery sentiments. Pro-slavery advocates in Kansas and western Missouri were pleased with the selection; free-staters were not happy, but they were willing to wait to see how Shannon would govern.

  Shortly after Governor Shannon took office, the Territorial Legislature called for the election of the territorial representative to Congress on October 1, 1855. The Free-State Party members refused to participate in this election, and J. W. Whitfield, the already seated pro-slavery candidate, received 2,721 of the 2,738 votes cast. A week later, the Free-State Party held its own election, unanimously electing former governor Reeder with 2,849 votes. The party also elected delegates to a constitutional convention, scheduled for Topeka on October 23. Not to be outdone, the pro-slavery faction established the Law and Order Party, or States Rights Party, and called for a convention in Leavenworth for November 14.

  In writing their constitution, the free-state delegates squabbled over a number of issues—such as admitting free blacks into the state—but ultimately left many contentious issues alone. They opted instead for a document that made slavery illegal, along with provisions that made it virtually impossible to amend the document. The Law and Order Party convention elected Governor Shannon as its chair, thus proclaiming which side he was on. It passed resolutions calling every action by the Free-State Party treasonous; it condemned the election of Reeder as delegate to Congress, and it called for the strict enforcement of all laws passed by the pro-slavery Territorial Legislature.88

  Josiah Miller, editor of the Kansas Free State newspaper, wrote his parents in South Carolina on October 15, 1855, saying that the arrival of Governor Shannon and his alignment with the pro-slavery legislature and the territorial officials would be pitted “against the [free-state] people” in a “tug of war” for dominance. He went on, “this is an awful crisis in our affairs at present. How it will go we know not.”89

  Indeed, no one could predict the outcome in Kansas in the fall of 1855. Pro-slavery forces believed they were in control of the territory’s destiny, holding all seats in the territorial legislature, all territorial appointed positions, and having a new governor who, by all indications, was sympathetic to their side. And they were the legally constituted political body in territorial Kansas. Antislavery residents, on the other hand, had written a constitution, elected their own delegate to Congress, and openly rebuked, ignored, or simply disobeyed legislation repugnant to them. But they had no legal authority for anything they had done. By late fall, it seemed that the smallest provocation could set off a firestorm.

  PART II

  THE CONFLICT

  5 The Almost Bloodless Wakarusa War

  HORACE GREELEY, EDITOR OF THE New York Tribune and a strong antislavery advocate, is credited with coining the term that desc
ribes this era and has stuck for over 150 years—“Bleeding Kansas.” Bleeding Kansas evokes images of daily violence and blood running in the streets. But how bloody was Kansas during this period?

  Contemporaries created and perpetuated the image of uncontrolled violence, such as this description by Thomas H. Gladstone, an Englishman who recorded his observations in The Englishman in Kansas: Or, Squatter Life and Border Warfare in 1857: “Murder and coldblooded assassination were of almost daily occurrence at the time of my visit.”90 A more educated guess was offered by the congressionally appointed Hoagland Claims Commission in 1859, which concluded that the number of deaths that could be attributed to political violence between November 1855 and the end of 1856—the period most often cited as the period of Bleeding Kansas—was something like two hundred.91 Robert W. Richmond, state archivist and assistant director of the Kansas State Historical Society, looked at the numbers of political deaths in his Kansas: A Land of Contrasts (1974) and concluded that the numbers were much lower—closer to fifty.92 Then, in a 1995 article in Kansas History, appropriately titled, “How Bloody Was Bleeding Kansas?,” Dale E. Watts painstakingly searched records from the territorial period and concluded that in the period from 1854 until statehood in 1861, fifty-six political killings occurred in Kansas, with the highest concentration—thirty-eight—in 1856. In other words, Kansas, during this period, was not very bloody after all. Watts did find that there were a total of 157 violent deaths in Kansas during this time frame, from brawls, domestic violence, fights over land claims, and lynchings for cattle rustling. But through his impressive research that found only fifty-six political killings, the term “Bleeding Kansas” seems an exaggeration.93