SIX MONTHS
KANSAS.
B Y  A LADY.  I   
B Y A LADY.
FOURTH THOUSAND.
B OSTON:
PUBLISHED BY JOHN P. JEWETT AND CO.
CLEVELAND, OHIO:
JEWETT, PROCTOR AND WORTHINGTON.
NEW-YQRK:
SHELDON, BLAKEMAN AND CO.
1856.
IN
A S.
,,9j;}A' jk    -'1.
=- 4,\  
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1856, by
JOHN P. JEWETT AND CO.,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts.
LITHOTYPED BY THE AMERICAN STEREOTYPE COMPANY,
28 PH(ENIx BUILDINO, BOSTON.
PRINTED BY D. S. FORD AND CO. 
TO DYf MOTHER,
WHOSE LIFE HAS BEEN MORE BEAUTIFUL THAN A POEM,
WISER THAN A PROVERB,
THESE LETTERS WERE WRITTEN.
TO ALL WHIIOM I LOVE
IN DEAR NEW ENGLAND;
TO THE MOTHERS
WHO AT DIFFERENT TIMES HAVYB PUT ON A CHEERFUL COURAGE
TO SAY "FAREWELL " TO DEAR CHILDREN AND GRANDCHIILDREN,
PUSHING FORTH TO THIS FAROFF LAND,
THEY ARE HERE TENDERLY AND AFFECTIONATELY
INSCRIBED
LAWRENCE, Kansas Territory, 
April, 1856. 
H. A. R. 
I 
CONTENTS.
PAGN
THE JOURNEY TO KANSAS,..
FIRST EXPERIENCFS IN KANSAS,. 
THE MISSOURI INVASION,...
MURDF.R OF BARBOUR - THE TRUCE,.
WINTER EXPERIENCES AND OBSERVATIONS,.
KsANs SUmFRERS- TROUBLE TaRMTNED,.
MISCcEL AOUS LETTERS,                             2
9
45
95
129
. 153
182
. 207  
PREFACE.
THE authoress went to Kansas in September,
1855, and returned to Massachusetts in April,
1856. During her absence she wrote the following letters to her mother, and, at the suggestion
of her friends, they are here presented to the
public, with but few alterations. She makes no
pretensions to literary excellence, but asks the
reader to remember the disadvantages under
which these letters were written. The narrative
is authentic.
APM 1856.
H. A. IL  
SIX MONTHS IN KANSAS.
JOURNEY TO KANSAS.
SEPTEMBER 11, 1855.
DEA  Moln,-  We are outside of Boston,
feeling something like unweaned chickens,
whose heads, if not wrung off, are at the best,
worse for a blow. I notice the last guide
board says "Ashland." Now surely the smell
is no longer the villainous odor of the Depot
neighborhood; or the noise, the rattling over
Boston pavements. We are among the green
fields, making a great steam and noise on our
own account, and borne along - as it is sometimes good to be, by the submissiveness of
our own will - by the fretting power of an
engine. Our speed is not extreme however,
and there is a murmur through the cars, that
we are behind the time. Men grumble and
consult their watches often; they wish to
take a night train. We who stop at Albany
(9) 
SIX MONTHS
do not care so much. The heat is very
oppressive and the dust covers us. Thanks to
sister Eliza for the napkins in our basket. In
the car is a water-tank; we wet the napkins
and wipe our faces, hands, and necks. How
it cools and refreshes us! The napkins give
proof what color we are, by their own dingy
aspect. We rinse them, and dry them on the
window-sill.
The sun has been staring us in the face for
a long time, as though he would look us out
of countenance for running away from home.
What a flood of glory about him! I feel a little rebuked at his unwinking stare. I muster
up from my memory all the reasons wherewith I nerved myself to leave dear New England; but they do not stand out so clearly as
when first enrolled in my cause. Like me,
they seem wilted by the heat and marred by
the noise.
But now the sun has gone down, and we
are in Springfield - that is to say, in Springfield Depot. I hope no one ever gave out
word that he had seen a city or a town
after whisking through the back side of it in
the cars. We stop here for another train to
10 
IN KANSAS.
pass, and to take in fuel.  The lights are - set
burning, people gather back again into their
seats and make themselves comfortable after
their own fashion. Men have suddenly grown
shorter. There is nothing of them in fact.
Coat collars have gone up in a most ambitious
manner;  hats have  settled down  humbly;
there is nothing of them but the crowns.
Here and there, also, the smallest apology
for a knee braced against the seat, or palpable evidence of boots hanging midway over
the seat's end, make it rather a hazardous
excursion through the alley-way.
Our  party numbers  twenty-five, ten of
them children, and five women, who are
going to homes prepared for them and now
occupied by their husbands and fathers The
babies are now quiet with the exception of
one, a stout, healthful child of two years, such
as Barnum would rejoice in as an article of
speculation. The mother is a gentle, attractive woman, occupying a seat next to ours.
How she is to get through this journey with
the care of a child so heavy, is yet to be seen.
Every time the cars stop, little Ella sets up a
cry of indignation and injured innocence. It
11 
SIX MONTHS
is electrical: there is a spasmodic motion between the hatcrowns and boots, accompanied with a smothered grumbling sound, lost
in the onward progress of the car& Little
Ella is satisfied; flings up her arms, throws
out her plump feet in a most jaunty manner,
and passes into the land of dreams, unmindful
of the weary, aching pain in her mother's
arms. Was there ever anything so ludicrous
as a car of sleeping passengers by lamplight,
tossed hither and yon by the incessant motion? Beautiful little ELla, you are the
brightest of us all under the circumstances.
The nodding spirit is upon me; and, so my
dear mother, good night.
ept. 12th..- The hope of a good night's
rest at Albany, kept us up till eleven o'clock.
We were stiff and tired, and the children cross,
as they had a right to be, waked up at that
time of night. We went from the cars to the
boat; from the boat into the dark night,
through a silent street, entering, at last, doors
which seemed to open in walls, and to lead
nowhere, until steps were mounted, which
seemed endless and hard to be got over. But
12 
IN KANSAS.
they were at length finished, and we found
ourselves in a dimly-lighted parlor, long, narrow, and low, with a parlor carpet of otter
color and muddy green, woven into frightful
contortions of diamonds and squares:-a midnight-looking apartment, where company was
not expected nor prepared for.
Chairs were brought, enough for all; the
gas was turned up more brilliantly; a pitcher
of water and one tumbler were procured;
the hands of the timepiece pointed to twelve.
0, how tired we were! would the clerk never
show us our beds? He came in very pleasantly, and remarked, with as much composure
as though he was speaking of the weather:
"Every bed in the house is full,- you must
make yourselves comfortable til breakfast
time!"
Twenty-five of us in one room, after riding
from Boston! My first twinge of homesickness was at Springfield when the sun went
down. I now felt another spasm. The children were cross, the mothers in despair, the
little woman with the big baby looked as
though she would faint.
My first thought was of personal injustice;
2
13 
SIX MONTHS
the second was more practical. I took up the
bundle of shawls, which had been such a
trouble to us when we changed cars, feeling
amply paid, in the wealth of help they now
gave to make others comfortable.  One was
speedily folded into a mattress, and as the
chairs were stuffed haircloth, by thrusting my
hand under one, it readily slipped ouiit from
the frame. It was speedily transferred to a
corner of the room, the shawl covered over it,
and the pale little woman laid away upon it
for the remaining nighttime, while the big
baby, Ella, was spread in my lap, to be hushed
off to sleep by the scraps of baby lullabies
still lingering in my memory, as sung by you
when I was young. What a splendid great
child! How did that mother live through so
long a ride and this child in her arms?
The room was long, fortunately. The male
portion of the party soon settled off into one
end of it, with chair-bottoms for pillows; and
the women gradually spread themselves among
the children, prophesying that they could not
sleep, but yet yielding at last to "tired nature's
sweet restorer;" and the children, too, did
not, I presume, know the diflerence between
14 
IN KANSAS.
his night and any other of their lives, tent
minutes after they lay about the floor. They
never sentimentalize.
When the time pointed to two o'clock, baby
Ella was laid beside her mother; the rockingchair back laid upon the floor; my cloak
spread in it, and with little Alice, kitten-like
rolled up by my side, I took my first lesson
in Kansas camping. It was not half as bad as
I expected. A night, even on the floor, will
come to an end; ours did not commence
till midnight, and morning light came in at
the usual time. Our women looked quite
tired out, and not a little ill-used; but a good
breakfast brightened us all up, and at halfpast seven we took to the cars again.
Consider us going back through those doors
in curious places, the mystery attendant upon
them all dispersed by daylight; ten small
children, one more than the martyr Rogers
had. Surely we were martyrs, what with the
carpet-bags, the shawls, basket of provision, a
child of our own, or of some other mother,
tugging at our skirts, with incessant injunctions "not to let go'," "not to walk so slow,";'
the clamorous outcries of every other body,
15 
SIX MONTHS
or party, in which of course we had no especial interest, and to whom we were quite unwilling to waive any rights or privileges. The
sudden determination to mount the car-steps,
(were there ever any so high from the ground
before?) two children and one mother abreast,
carpetbag and basket included, pocket, too,
filled with apples, et cetera   of course was
a  failure, and of course you  took up  the
time of the next body behind; and yet, you
find yourself thrown, as it were, up those awful
steps, into the cars, by the terror of the oath
in the rear, at your delay. Blessed be the
proprieties of cars on such occasions; the
refuge of the seats; the breeze stirred by
their outward-bound motion. I take a long
breath at the safety of us all. I turn round
to congratulate the little woman upon our
triumph over difficulties, and she is not there.
My heart is in my mouth. If she is not here,
she cannot be in safety; who can take thought
for her but me, with so much of their own to
look after? I look over all my matters, as if
to make sure that I have not appropriated
her with the baby, as a portion of my luggage. There sits Alice in the safe corner, but
16 
IN KANSAS.
she could hardly hover even a little woman.
As for Ella, she is not of the sort to be hovered, now or at any future time. I conjure
up the picture of her,. left behind in that bedlam of a Depot. What is to be done? ah,
there comes the knighterrant of our party.
I will report. He makes a rapid tramp
through the whole train, and returns; she is
safe! My healt settles down in its place,
making the resolve, to look better after her in
future.
Now then for a peep at the country - Central New York, with its fine farms, its hills,
reminding one so much of the best cultivated
portions of Maine; its canals, bearing along
little arks, such as the old primer gave to us
in a wood-cut of quaint device, as the especial model of Noah's; its immiense fields of
broomcorn, hanging its richly-tasselled heads
in most wondrous profusion! Ah, it was all
very beautiful, and to me new; but the dearest memento I treasure in my memory of our
ride through central New York, is the mullenstalk, by the wayside. A rough and hairy
leaf it has, a tall and coarse blossom and seedvessel; but down in the old pasture-lane we
2*
17 
SIX MONTHS
used to gather them at your command, my
mother, to be hung in the garret, as a panacea
when winter brought us sore throats. I take
my last peep at the mullen-stalk in New
York.   I'm  brave enough  to say, it has
stirred more emotion, more lasting thought
within me, than anything I shall trace again
to day.
Evening picks us up at; we  are to
travel all night. It rains, and the air is very
close. We get tea, and beg the privilege of
getting into the cars, though they do not
start for two hours. This time, we are fortunate enough to get seats together. I have
tucked away the luggage for the night. Two
young men of our party sit in front of us,
and relieve me of the valise and carpetbag.
What a nice bed we have made. Alice is
asleep. Little Ella, too, has dispensed with
the motion of the cars for once, and lies opposite, at ftill length.  The company have all
settled off into a quiet sleep. I hear a smothered sound, a gasp like Susie's when she fell
down in the night by my bedside in a fainting fit. So much asleep am I, that it is diffi
18 
IN KANSAS.
cult to convince myself I am not going over
another edition of that scene in a dream.
O dear! the little woman has fainted! She
is in my arms What a wake up there is!
Even boots find their level on the floor; windows that no one had strength to open, are
thrown up without discussion; private little
brandy-bottles suddenly appear from the most
innocent-looking carpet-bags, and from the
most staid-looking women. What a world of
kind feeling a faint, even, will bring to the
surface of the most indifferent group, when it
is needed. I decide to keep to this woman
till she has a little sleep. Every body goes
off again; the danger is over; she sleeps quietly in my arms; while, with my feet, I keep
romping -Miss Ella, from rolling on to the
floor.
Thursday morning, long before you are up,
the cars make a ten-minutes stop in Her Majesty's dominions; and you can fancy me stepping out to an eating house, with my miniature tea-pot in hand, to get it filled with hot
tea. I go at a venture, for they sell it only to
breakfast-eaters; but it was a kindly-lookin,
woman whom I addressed, and she gave
19 
SIX MONTHS
orders to the servant to "fill it to the full,
with as much milk and sugar as the lady
liked." Hleaven bless her! I shall probably
never see her again; and should I, I could
not recognize her, but by her voice. She
gave me more than a "cup of cold water"- a
warm and inspiring cup of tea, after a sleepless night ending in a lonesome, cloudy morning; and she shall have her "reward."
Our ride in Canada was through a beautiful tall wood, and upon high table-land, level
as possible. As we neared the lake, the
country was level to painfulness. Water and
shore a continuous plain, and water the color
of dirty soapsuds. If all the lake-shore scenery is like this, I have seen all I care to see.
Now we whirl along opposite Detroit. It
is a pleasant break upon the monotony, as
we near the ferry-boat. A few moments
bring us to the (to me, awful) depot proximity. All sorts of unearthly sounds are about
us; and people of every nation seem to be
hurrying west.
It seems as though one train of cars could
never swallow up all these people. Six of
our party are seated. The baggage is not all
20 
IN KASAS.
on board. Our conductor is resolute, and will
not leave it, and calls for us to get out. I
have only time to put Alice out, my foot is
on the step, there is a bedlam noise, when
the cars start off as though they were mad,
with me standing in a bewildered maze,
with my hand on the door, my eyes gazing
deep into that now superlatively awful depot, where little Alice, basket in hand, mother's cloak safe on her arm, stands demurely,
with her own expression of sweet content
quite unruffled. One of the young knight,
errants of the party leads me back to my seat,
and says, "They will be on in the next train."
My seat looks too lonely for any long ride. I
look round for some one acquainted with the
road. There is a face close by; it is very
intent upon a newspaper, but it looks up
kindly to the question, "When will the next
train leave Detroit for Joiliet?" and he was
sorry to tell me, I should not see little Alice
till the next day! Now the blood leaps
quickly, and thought is all astir. Wait till to
morrow? No! Getchel is the prince of lads.
We get out at the first station, we wait an
hour, we take the next train back, and find all
21
. 
SIX MONTHS
taking a comfortable dinner at a hotel.  She
said all the while, "Mother will come back,";'
and at the sound of the car-whistle, came
down to meet me.
At five o'clock we took seats for Illinois;
rode all night at a furious rate; got out at
Lake Station before daylight, and were huddled into a dirty room, to wait till seven. I
have seen nothing clean to eat, drink, or sit
or stand upon, for some time. If there was
only a rock somewhere, that would, in the
very nature of it, refuse to become impregnated with this universal nastiness; or, one
of those glorious old walls, built by our grandfathers, running in curious crooks and turns
up and down  their domains, to which the
dearest little mossy forests cling, and upon
which many a weary wayfarer makes a seat,
in the dust of travel, or to get ease from pain,
when daylight deepens into darkness!
Fields of corn there are, rich in promise,
and in extent immense. Now, too, the grand
beauty of prairie scenery dawns upon us. It
is quite impossible to give you any idea of
its wonderful  expanse,- the  innumerable
herds of cattle, sheep, and horses, whose
22
0 
IN KANSAS.
distance from us can only be measured by
their diminished size; and the flowers- O0,
how beautiful and numberless! - such as you
grow in gardens, are here sown broadcast, by
luxurious nature's hand, in a most happy combination of colors, yellow, white, and purple. This is payment indeed, for the previous fatigue.   I am  only homesick, to-day,
when we come to some of the most miserable apologies for towns ever set forth in
station-books.
On the open prairie, one has nature, ill the
open space of fields unfenced, in the wide
over-hanging sky, all to one's self. There is
no need for talk; words jar upon the ear
when the eye leads the emotions of beauty
captive. The farm-houses, and hay-ricks, speck
the distance, as ships the sea. They do not
interrupt the harmony; they are a part of the
beautiful picture. But I could feel no more
at home on a prairie, than on the sea; there
is nothing individual about either.
When we arrived at Alton, darkness had
settled down about us for the night; so that
we saw nothing by which to remember the
flourishing town, always associated in my
23 
SIX MONTHS
mind with the murder of Lovejoy, twenty
years since.
From the cars, we were transferred to a
steamer, plying between Alton and St. Louis,
twenty miles distant; thence to a carriage
waiting on a muddy levee for us, under a
driving rain; thence to a hotel. We were all
very much in the condition of David Copperfield, when Mr. Dick suggested a "bath."
And after securing a chamber, the next request was for the use of a bathing-room,
which the house unfortunately did not possess. Water, however, was brought in abundance. Already the anticipated treat was
prepared for, when, imagine the astonishment
with which we witnessed the dropping into
the basin a liquid precisely the color of
dirty soap-suds! What was to be done? I
sat down to decide which was the dirtiest, we
three-days travellers in the heat and dust, or
this forlorn dip from the Mississippi. As if to
help me to a right decision, I went to the
bowl and took a new survey. The liquid had
certainly settled; the mud was not more than
a finger deep at the bottom, and the basin
was large.  Now, then, I poured it off as care
24 
IN KANSAS.
fully as you would cream from a pan of milk,
until the stir of the mud bade me stop. You
should have seen me, mother of mine, squatted on the floor at midnight, comparing
those two bowls. I could have cried at the
remembrance of all the pebbly-bottomed,
clear streams I had left in dear New England.
Now, one bowl looked like the mud-cakes we
children used to stir with a stick, in broken
china, and spread in fancy forms of cakes,
pies, and turn-overs, on the cellar windowframe facing the sunny bank of the old house.
What had been poured off was a poor edition
of the rinsing water which old Rachel used
to be so choice of in the tubs standing under
the well-sweep.
But the escape from the frst condition
seemed so great, by comparison, that actual
refreshment and rest followed an ablution in
the second. To be sure I did dream of
wading in dirty water, and working hard to
dig a well in a sand-bar; but the morning
found me laughing at my unsuccessful labors,
and also busy with the preparation to go on
board the steamer " Golden State, Capt. John
Gonsullis," bound up the Missouri to Kansas
3
25 
SIX MONTHS
City, and other landings. The rain poured in
torrents. St. Louis looked like a dirty slattern, as we drove to the boat; and the temperature was that of a close August day at
home.
Everything seemed new. "Old things,"
had indeed passed away. Half the faces we
saw were black. The horses seemed to have
run quite entirely to ears and tails; and such
queer  looking  carriages!  The  boat was
another kind of thing, too, from ours  at
home. It looked all out of the water, and
on that account awkward. The saloon is one
hundred and thirty feet long, with nice little
state-rooms on each side, opening not only
into the saloon, but-also on to the deck, with
a blind to that door through which you can
get whatever of air there may be astir, with
the strictest privacy to your apartment at the
same time.
The weather is intolerably hot.  I never
felt anything like it. We have three dozen
children on board. This saloon is the sittingroom and eating-room combined. The children have no resort, not even at meal-tine;
and as the passengers are mostly families of
26 
IN KANSAS.
emigrants, who are supposed not to be very
rich, the children, have not, of course, any
nurses but their tired-looking mothers. There
are passengers, too, from Kentucky, Indiana,
Illinois and Alabama; well-bred, and ill-bred,
gentle and simple. There is a large family
of newly bought slaves - children, with their
parents. I do not know where they pass
their time days. My first view of them, or
knowledge of their existence, was on going
into the saloon quite late. The floor was
quite covered with dark faces, sound asleep,
of every age and size, down to plump and
happy sleeping infancy. We have colored
waiters, twenty or more, as well drilled as soldiers. The table is spread with great variety
and abundance at every meal; and the motion of a boat over "six feet scant" of water,
is not sufficient to destroy the appetite.
Sept. 14th.- The Sabbath has been very
quiet on board. Prayer books are in the hands
of many of the passengers and boatmen. I
have watched with some curiosity the different
elements that settle off in eddies. I hear some
snapping of small-arms between the slavery
2;'7 
SIX MONTHS
and anti-slavery commons. There is not a good
spirit shown on either side. The subject is
very great, but the combatants are puny;
they cannot look over it fairly, because they
are not tall enough; or at each other justly,
because they are prejudiced. A David, with
a sling and trifling stone, could aim with
effect where these fail with loud and angry
words.
O dear, I wish they would not talk. I believe I hate petty argument. It leaves each
stronger in his own view. But perhaps it is
because I am a woman, and, woman-like,
jump to a conclusion without the drudgery of
measuring the intermediate steps.
Now, the aspect of things at the upper end
of the saloon changes for the better. There
is the voice of a woman surely; others are
calmed by it. The voice is very sweet, and
the face a goodly one; the dialect purely
New England.  I have noticed this woman
often: her face is remarkably fine; her person large, and well proportioned; she has
two fine boys with her, to make Kansas men
of; and she goes to meet her husband. Hiappy
woman! Her manner is simple; her words
28 
IN KANSAS.
without extravagance.  Like oil, they smooth
the rumpled feathers of antagonism. She
explains how, without being paupers, we emigrate in companies, for better security against
homesickness, and for the continuance of New
Fngland institutions. Mother, she is just such
a woman as you would like. Such as, sitting
in the shade of her home, even though it be
but a rude cabin or a tent, will, through her
children, tell upon the character of the next
generation with a force greater than that of
half a dozen "women of strong minds."
There are sitting near me, two gentlemen
and three ladies from Kentucky, and slaveowners. I like them, to look at. The young
ladies have been drawn to the upper end of
the saloon. There is an honest interest in
their faces, aside from the good breeding,
which makes them attentive listeners. The
young man of the party, a fine specimen of a
man, has also drawn his chair within hearing
distance. The discussion has changed its character. Supper has come in season to dissolve
the gathering, before bitterness again springs
up.
The old gentleman from the South introdu           3*
29 
SIX MONTHS
ces himself to me after tea. He wishes to
ask me questions about the north. He feels
her superiority, he says; but he wishes we
better understood the difficulty of their position, who are born to the inheritance of
slaves. He is one who voted for gradual
emancipation; but the bill was lost. These
are people of the old school of good breeding;
and my talk with them is one of the pleasantest rays on the sand-bars of the Missouri.
A very faint idea of this fickle, deceitful
MXs of the west can you form, without floating within her shores for a few days. There
is no such thing as hurry, upon her waters.
Put on steam, and set forth to drive a "fast
team,' and the circumstance which will make
you white in the face, and faint at heart, will
be the fangs of a "snag" driven into the
keel; or the drifts of an unseen sand-bar on
either side.
At table, I sit at the right hand of the
Captain. The bell is rung the moment he appears at the farther end of the saloon, and
every waiter watches the slightest motion of
his hand, or eye. In his personal appearance,
there is both dignity and authority; and at
30 
IN KANSAS.
table, the wants of every person are noticed
by him, at a glance. He has passed the most
of his life upon this river; and makes one at
the wheel of his boat, passing most of his
time there. He invites us up to pass an hour
with him, after the sun is down. The view is
really beautiful at times.   The shores are
thickly wooded, with the general appearance
of an  uninhabited country.   Occasionally,
there are grand columns of sand-stone, giving
a good idea of ivy covered towers in the old
world. The channel of the river is never in
the same place twice; and as the water is
muddy, it is a continued wonder how a way
is ciphered out by the Captain, at the wheel.
It is just a week since we left home, and
we are three hundred and fifty miles up this
river. It seems endless, and the immensity
just begins to dawn upon me, as well as the
distance from home. No place have I seen
yet where I could make a home. Everything
seems a world too wide for the home emotion
to root in. Crack goes the boat, with a prolonged grate beneath her, as though she was
scraped in pieces! Mother, we are on a sandbar, and perhaps may pass a week here,
31 
SIX MONTHS
Five hours!   The moon is up brightly.
The boat's crew, after most exhausting efforts,
have pushed her off into four feet of water.
She moves heavily, and as though contending
with a power by which she has once been
vanquished.  Everybody is standing near the
railing looking over anxiously. The mate is
the most villianous rascal I ever saw. How he
does treat those tired sailors. Every second
word is an oath, uttered in the voice of a
fiend, and accompanied often with the weight
of his hand or foot.
Now, two men are standing one on either
side of the lower deck, sounding. Their
voices go up cheerfully, or sadly, as the lead
sinks more or less. Their report is taken up
by another man, leaning over the third deck,
and thus reaches the captain, at the wheel, up
still another story, mid-ships. When the report sends forth the sound, "four feet large,"
then everybody says, we shall get on, our notions of water being at ebb tide just now.
The river here is very broad, with prominent sand-bars here and there, of an acre or
more in extent. Nearer the opposite shore
is another steamer, fast in the mud. Her pa~
32 
IN KANSAS.
sengers, are troops for fort Riley. She is a
mile from us, but a common curse makes us
friends. We steer towards her, still sounding as before. We pass her. Her crew forget their own dilemma in our release, and
cheer us.
We are now over the worst bars of the river.
At twelve in the night we reach Lexington,
and part company with our Southern friends,
not without regret. To-morrow we have the
promise of being in Kansas city. —To-morrow
has come. We gather up the scattered fragments of our wardrobe in our berths. The
little woman leans over the rail at my open
door; she looks pale; we quarrel about the
expediency of her taking rest, in anticipation
of the fatigue of to-morrow. I go my way,
she takes hers. In less than half an hour, I
am sent for, verily she has fainted entirely!
I send to the bar for iced wine. There is not
a breath of air cooler than that which blows
from a fLirnace.  There is no motion about
her heart; but she looks earnestly at me,
while I feed her with the wine. A gentleman
passenger from Connecticut, with rare chivalry, takes entire care of the big baby. Why
33 
SIX MONTHS
does she have these turns? Is it fatigue, or
excitement at leaving dear New England?
Toward sun-down she seems quite recovered.
We hail Kansas City in the distance, looking
really more pleasant than one could anticipate;
and glad we all are to anticipate a release from
the river, or at any rate a change. Kansas
City stands upon a clay bluff, very steep, with
one dirty street along near the landing, the
hill towering roughly above it.
We passed the night comfortably; and as
early as teams could be procured, started towards Kansas Territory. Our carriage was a
cart, covered with sail-cloth, not quite high
enough to allow us to sit with our heads up.
There were nine of us to two mules, beside the
driver.  We rode up round the hill at the
peril of our necks, expressed by the female
portion of the party in sudden starts and
broken screams. The sun came out intensely
hot; then we began to make love to the ugly
sail-cloth and draw it closely down about us.
We came into the Indian country after riding about seven miles from Kansas City. The
road, with the exception of occasional ravines,
with slight runs of water through their bot
34 
IN KANSAS.
toms, is remarkably fine-winding in most
picturesque curves through open, unfenced
prairie and grand old oak groves, as free from
underbrush as a gentleman's well-kept grounds,
with trees such as make the Saxon blood
quicken at their height and antiquity.
There is one point here which I can never
forget, midway between Kansas City and the
extreme border of the Shawnee Reserve. After walking down a steep ravine, crossing the
creek on stones, climbing the opposite bank,
tired, and out of breath, we packed away again
in the cart, and the faithful mules started off
briskly, up, up, a long way. We then came
into a broad mowing field of a thousand acres
-smooth as a lawn, but by no means a dead
level; not a fence to be seen, nor a habitation.
The sun lay at our right, nearly down; but he
did not cheat us, as he often does at home, by
the device of a hill close at hand, behind which
he seems to look over to say, with the familiarity of a near neighbor, "Good night." No
indeed, there was nothing so cozy about this
scene. Grand, beyond all conception it was,
but stern and distant, like the life of the understanding without affection. In the midst of
35 
SIX MONTHS
the awe with which it inspired us there opened
before us another view of the same pictureat some distance appeared a gentle rise, continuous for a mile or more, and stretching far
to the right and left, a perfect lawn, studded
everywhere with groups and belts of those
tall oaks, graceful in arrangement, perfect in
growth. We jumped up -we shouted, with
the newly awakened delight of tired and homesick children. But there was no response from
human voice. Our ardor exhausted itself; the
road wound gently down, leaving this part of
the wilderness on our left, and the grand
spread mowing field, with the golden sun light,
on our right. Our way now ran along the
dull prose of a country road, settling us back
into the full consciousness of the cart-its sailcloth covering knocking against our bonnets
at every jolt; its plank seats without backs;
its cramped, uncomfortable crowdedness of
people, of children, of baskets, of carpet-bags,
of cloaks and shawls; its sickening odor of
crumbled gingerbread, of bread and butter, of
cheese and dried beef. And now, the deepening twilight makes every soul turn with
struggling yearning to the thought of home.
36 
IN KANSAS.
Ah me, Mother of mine! "What went we out
into the wilderness for to see? A reed shaken
with the wind?"  Every heart in these emigrant wagons has its history, and is treading
its wine press alone.  How, to the outward
observer, we seem lifted, whether we will or
not, by the hard and rough winds of circumstances, and borne along the high road of
human life; drifting, it may be, into some
quiet, sheltered, cosey corner; or, out where
we should least expect to find ourselvesamidst immeasurable difficulties of position.
Silence has fallen upon our party. It looks
like a company of nuns, in whom all emotion
was smothered long ago, till it had died. But
not so really. Old Memory has taken us by
the shoulders and turned us round. We are
all scattered to our own homes that were.
And where is mine, my dear Mother, if not
with you? So I am in your room, to greet
you as you come in after tea. You hold the
little hand-lamp in one hand, and you are very
careful to secure the latch of the door with the
other; how you place the unlighted lamp on
the right hand corner of the mantleshlelf, and
with a care-taking glance over the room, to see
4
37 
SIX MONTHS
that all is in order, sink into the easy chair
under it.  I am sitting opposite you, looking
into your earnest eyes; you look pale and
slightly sad; you gaze into the cheerful wood
fire; your elbow rests upon your knee, and
you make an easy chair of the hand and wrist,
into which, by the right of former possession,
your chin settles down comfortably. Now you
slily adjust the spinal weakness of the immense
brass andiron nearest you, (by the way, I
always felt that you considered yourself responsible for the good appearance of that unfortunate member of the family,) and with the
hearth-brush you make an attempt at fighting
up some stray ashes or coals; as though they
had not learned long ago better than to touch
so nice a hearth-stone. Those bright old andirons, how they belong to home! and the
shovel and tongs that never knock their heads
into the jams, nor irreverently roll over with
a clattering sound; the two quaint candlesticks
of the same metal, standing so as to measure
the length of the snuffer tray, which always
occupies the centre of the mantel. Now you
light a taper, and the candle which is longest
is set burning. The knitting suddenly appears,
38 
IN KANSAS.
and you are busy. The shadows flicker over
the room, for your one wax is not brilliant.
I lift the veil from the living picture of our
dear old father; pass my hand also to the
fancy piece from the hand of a dear sister, who
thus prepared a tablet for her own name; I
smooth my hand along the household stuff of
a past century, which, in the old ballad words,
"the more it is used the brighter it shines;"
I take a gaze again at the venerable face, the
erect form, which has borne the care of four
score years without growing old and childish.
The whole atmosphere of your presence has
rested me, and now I say, "Good night, mother," for it seems as though you were at my
elbow. "Good bye, dear New England. Was
there no hearth vacant and sad by my absence?
Was there no cabin within your precincts into
which I could enter by a fee simple?"
"There;' shouts the driver, "don't you see
there!" We jump up with a shiver, and, as
in duty bound, look. We see, far in the distance, what appears like a respectable-sized
barn, forming a step between the frightfully
wide country and the clear glowing horizon.
We ask, "What is it?"
39 
SIX MONTHS
"Well now'," says he of the whip, "It'pears
like you don't know nothing of these parts.
Why, that's Paschal Fish's, where we puts up."
"How far is it from this?"
"0, a mile and a bit or so."
We never knew how long the "mile" measured; but the "bit" was a dangerous extension
of time, prostration of our tired nerves, and a
stripping to shreds of our pretty-well-worn
patience.
The driver tried to beguile the way by telling us about Paschal Fish, an Indian of the
Shawnee tribe, and of power among them. A
very honest man, don't drink a drop of whiskey, has a corn-field of a hundred acres, and
thirty acres of oats; keeps a little store, and
employs New England men to make the sales;
turns his house into a sort of a tavern, and
employs a Yankee to cook for his company.
Paschal sits with his hat on, in a ruminating
mood, the most of the time-welcomes New
England people-says, "We saw the cloud in
the east, one, two, three summers ago, and
now it is beginning to come upon us." Here
ends the driver's prattle. We are at the door
of this new hotel.
40 
IN KANSAS.
We dismount, and enter at the only door
into the first story of a large building, simply
boarded and  loosely floored.  It is dimly
lighted with poor tallow candles in Japan candlesticks, which bear evidence of having been
the support of candles before.   There is a
long table in the floor, and men, in whose
faces there is absolutely no mouth to be seen,
and only a gleam for eyes,- an entire party of
heads, covered with dirty, uncombed, unwashed
hair.  There were no more chairs.  Our baggage was brought in, and we made seats of it.
The men ate as though the intricacies from
their plates to their mouths had become a
perfect slight of hand with them. As they
passed out of the room, the dishes were wiped
out for us!
Soon we passed up a staircase, in one end
of the room, creaking and bending beneath
our weight, as though we were not safe. The
floor above was of the same stamp as that below, - one thin board of cotton-wood, which
is somewhat like willow. In the loft there
was a cotton-cloth partition. I was fortunate
enough to secure a place for Alice in a good
bed, with the wife of a physician, and drew
41 
SIX MONTHS
close before the tented door a narrow, crossbedstead, having no bed upon it, and only a
blanket for clothing. I made a pillow of my
travelling-bag, and laid myself away for the
night. It was the best bed I had seen, for
there were no occupants but myself.
Now, men, in single file, marched up and
spread themselves over most of the outer
floor. Sleep fell down upon these waifs of
humanity.  The house was quiet; and the
new day greeted us all with the blessing of a
clear sky before our sleep was over.
Before we were well awake, the male department was vacated. Now came the alwaysrecurring desire for water, and the hopelessly
small portion to be obtained. One tin basin
was most respectfully waited for, and the
square of looking-glass patiently held by each
one in turn, till our eyes were washed and our
hair set a little smooth. As for teeth, we could
not raise anything to rinse them with, till I
thought of my little mug in the basket. With
a sort of smoothed-down travelling aspect, we
went down over the stairs.  There sat Paschal
Fish, hat over lus eyes, legs crossed, looking
as though he had not moved all night.
42 
IN KANSAS.
The room looked pleasanter. Most of the
travellers had gone. A bright and cheerful
face, grown quite familiar from having been
one among our party, was assuming some of
the cares which belonged to the cook, who,
it appeared, was her husband. She gave us
clean and shining cups, saucers, and plates.
She brought us hot biscuit from the ovenjust the smell of which made us hungryand coffee, such as I never found at any hotel
before. Her husband served three years at
Myers', and the coffee was a credit to his
teachers.
After such a breakfast, we were quite in
good humor, and mounted into the old cart,
almost as good as new. Nine miles more we
were to ride before we pitched our tents.
The country did not seem as truly beautiful
coming towards Lawrence city. The Wabarusa was nearly dry, and we rode down into
its bed and up the opposite bank, which was
frightfully steep. Then we came to a little
settlement, called Franklin, entirely bare of
trees and shrubs. This open, unbroken waste
of nothing but grass, with a sprinkling of
little cabins, is inharmonious to my mind  We
43 
SIX MOMHS IN KASAS.
notice plenty of cows feeding along the way,
among this wealth of grass, and, beside most
of the cabins, ricks of hay, stacked for the
winter's feed. Meanwhile, our eyes look earnestly forward for the first indication of the
town of Lawrence. At our left, far off, the
hills rise grandly, terrace-like, one back of
the other,- and so green and smooth! Our
driver calls the most  prominent one, "Blue
Mound," where the prophets of these tribes
see fine college buildings looming in the years
of Kansas' glory and prosperity.
Soon this little wisp of a man tells us to
"Come down from the mountains," and look
at the city at our feet. One could hardly
conceive of a picture so really beautiful, of a
town one year old. As we enter, the riverwhich we do not see - forms the background,
with its thickly-wooded bank. A few nicelooking houses appear, and cabins quite numberless. We ride to the door of the Cincinnati House. And now, my dear mother, my
journey is over. I tie my knot, and, with a
nervous, trembling hand, say, good-bye.  Keep
the corner for me warm, because I shall prove,
like the dove of old, a returner to the old ark.
H. A. R.
44 
FIRST EXPERIENCES.
SEPTEMBER 20Ta, 1855.
MY DEAR MOTHER: - I closed my last letter,
and bade you good-bye, quite in a hurry.
But as soon as I had entered the "Cincinnati
House," I cast around to discover, if possible,
some nice, quiet little corner, where I could
tuck myself away, and, with a pencil, take
notes for you.  The "young lad" who drew us
out here had gone out to a claim early in the
morning, and would not return till late.
The house into which we entered appeared
outside, and perhaps within, very much like
the way-station depots at home, - made of
boards, jointed and painted dark brown, containing two square rooms, with an attache at
the back end, of a ten-footer, looking like a
wen on the side of a man's neck, but really a
cooking-room. The two rooms are plastered,
one making a nice parlor and the other a
dining-room. There are two chambers over
them; and, above all, a perfectly flat roof.
(45) 
SIX MONTHS
On the same lot, directly in the rear, is a barnlooking building, with four small rooms below, each having a door opening outside; a
flight of stairs running up at the end, into
four little attics. Each of these rooms has
slatted walls, floors, and bedsteads, and is designed to receive (I will not say accommodate)
three persons. I am thus particular in my
description because I have had a great deal to
do with these rooms, and I wish all your sympathy with everything I experience. The
parlor is furnished with one table, small, ovalshaped, hewn out from the beautiful black
walnut of the country; one rocking-chair, and
three lounges, made of round sticks of unpealed wood, over which is stretched cotton
cloth, of rather uncertain firmness of fabric,
giving one the idea of breaking through. They
are stuffed with prairie grass, and nicely covered with patch.
This house is kept by two clever women
from Lowell; one of whom kept a boardinghouse there, and the other, as an operative,
commended herself to some literary celebrity
as Editress of the "Lowell Offering."  The last
mentioned person lay upon one of these
46 
IN KANSAS.
lounges, sick with Typhoid fever. The other
bore the marks of recent sickness, from which
she considered herself recovering.
The "party" starting with us from Boston
had spread away in every direction, except
the fine woman with the two boys. Her destination was Topeka, and she had to wait till
her husband sent for her. The sun had come
out hot-hot as it could be. There was no
water that we could relish, even to wash us in;
and we were stinted, necessarily, to the smallest possible quantity. I never saw a woman
so homesick as this mother of the boys.  Her
strength was entirely exhausted and she could
not rest at all, but broke forth in the most
clamorous complaints.
In the kitchen there was a pretty girl fromni
New England, called Phebe, and a stout, good
humored'Susie,' from Illinois. One acted as
waiter; the latter as cook-her business, I
think she understood about as well as a freshly
caught Laplander would have done. Then,
there was Henry, and John, and David, who,
each and all, served when there was a "rush"
of company, or the water cask was dry.
I beli-eve that the first thing which impressed
47 
SIX MONTHS
me, as people passed in and out, was the sickly
look of everybody. All elasticity seemed to
have been drawn away from them. Not being
able to make myself or Alice particularly comfortable, I turned to Typhoid fever; straightened out the hair a little, washed the face and
hands, worked the folds from its clothing, and
Typhoid smiled gratefully upon me. I never
could remember how, after dinner, I fell into
a deep sleep, upon one of those lounges. At
any rate, as the sun was going down, a hand
pressed my head, and a voice said, "Wake up,
sick one." The eyes opened as if by magic.
Kneeling on the floor beside me was Ned,
dressed in a clean pink and white shirt, thrown
open loosely at the neck, sleeves rolled up
above the elbow, boots drawn up over his pantaloons; face, neck, and arms brown, or rather,
yellow as his hair. Typhoid turned her face
to the wall, and wiped her eyes with the corner of her shawl. Phebe was in the door
under her sun-bonnet, with flushed cheek.
She looked astonished to find the "ice man"
of sufficient consequence to bring us all the
way from dear New England. How beautiful
her face is!
48 
IN KANSAS.
Now we started out to see the cabin, which
he said was but forty rods distant. The location is particularly pretty, on a rising mound,
and looking down the river quite a distance.
The cabin is fifteen feet square, and eleven
feet high, giving room for quite a loft. The
windows were cotton cloth; and the door was
made of a frame, with a cross-piece, covered
with the same material, having quite an extensive wooden latch fastened to the crosspiece
with a wooden pin, and lifted from the outside
by a twisted string. The cabin is made by
driving joists into the ground four feet apart,
and naifling "oak shakes" outside, after the
manner of clapboards at home. These shakes
are split out with an axe, after the blocks are
sawed the proper length. This oak is a hard
and crooked wood; and the shakes, as a matter of necessity, refrain from a very close
embrace, leaving little scollops and curious
bends, through which, in the night time, the
stars can take a peep at us and we at them as
well. There were six boards stretched across
the middle of the room; and on one side a
plank was fastened for a work bench. Overhlead, as many more crooked, miserable-looking
5
49
I 
SIX MONTHS
boards were drawn along, on which, with a
buffalo skin and blanket a-piece, Ned and a
young friend laid themselves away at night to
sleep. Half a dozen of Sharpe's rifles, with
plenty of ammunition, and a drum to sound
an alarm, made up the chamber furniture.
A rude ladder stood against the wall, to afford
access to the upper story.
This was all the work of Ned's hands; and
at an outlay of sixty dollars, beside his labor!
Shakes are two dollars a hundred; good boards
thirty-five dollars a thousand. The want of
comfortable shelter is the great drawback to
new comers, and causes fearful sickness.
I went back to the hotel, feeling as though
I could not sleep in a room where half of it
was the open ground. My terror of snakes,
mice, and vermin generally, sprang into the
most intense life; and would not be put down
or reasoned with. The house was very full,
and the barn too. Susie and Phebe slept upon
the floor, in the room with four of us. Wearily
we laid ourselves away, failing to find a chair,
trunk, or even a nail, to spread our clothes
upon. But the bed felt soft to us, and we had
50 
IN KANSAS.
faith still left in the power to sleep, even under
difficulties.
It is written, "Ye know not what shall be
on the morrow." Verily, no fertile imaginings
of your daughter could have conjured up the
torture to be applied to her on this initiatory
night in the new territory. Mother, in the
first place, did you ever see a FLEA? Don't
consider the question impertinent; or as
throwing reproach upon your most respectable
housekeeping. I ask for information; because
I kave. And on this night, when I imagined
no enemy was near, they took sole possession
of us all! I think I always had some respect
for mosquitoes; they give warning always of
their approach, and their note is unmistakably
bloody; and a cheap bar over the bed secures
you from everything but the cry for "blood."
Quite another sort of villain is this black,
shambling, hydra legged "varmint; " using his
legs only to leap with; never walking off, as
though he had rights, but sneaking up from
the floor just as one hopes to take possession
of a bed, paid for, whisking in between the
sheets in columns. Yet, put your finger on
one of them if you can! Settle down and
51 
SIX MONTHS
close your eyes, for you are so tired. Hark!
now they play "hop scotch" along the ex
tremities. You give a sudden brush with
your hand; but you hit nothing. Now they
commence a tramp up, up, up! it is no longer
endurable. Out of bed, off comes the nightdress, turned wrong-side-out. In the greatest
apparent rage at the harmless piece of cotton,
you thrash it most vigorously against imaginary chairs, get into it again, lift up the sheets
and go through the same pantomime against
bed-posts and foot-boards, which exist only in
your memory of things, in an entirely past
epoch of your life's history. Now they are
spread anew over the no longer unsuspected
bed. The sleepy little Miss Alice is packed
in after having received a thorough brushing,
of which she takes cognizance only in broken
dreams. You lay yourself away wearily-oh,
so wearily -after a whole week's travel, and
no true interval of rest, hoping to get asleep
before you are again taken possession of.
What a futile hope. Here they come like a
herd of homceopathic buffaloes, as if by a preconcerted signal, making head-quarters on the
open prairie between the high bluffs of your
52 
IN KANSAS.
shoulder-blades-nice, snug, table-land thatand "catch me if you can" seems to be the
taunt with which they set up anew their
night's banquet-at your expense.
After all, it is not so much what these "varmints" take, as the manner in which they do it,
that we rebel at. Commend me to a bold,
pharisaical mosquito, who not only sounds his
horn before him but, sipping once for all a sufficiency of blood, which the poorest of us can
well enough spare, settles off upon a wall or
curtain, content to rest and let others rest,
till he feels the want of another meal: a sort
of "Robin Hood" robber is this gentleman.
While the Messrs. Flea and company are veritable " squatters" on  "1 hitherto unoccupied
territory," ostensibly for the "benefit of every
race under heaven;" but really and truly for
self-agg,randizement and gain.
With the early morning, we laugh at the
type of us emigrants, so plainly drawn in a
pocket edition; while at the same time, falling back upon our rights, said to be somehow
covered by the United States Constitution,
we say, quite boldly, "Gentlemen, these
53
I 
SIX MONTHS
'claims' are already preempted; you will please
move farther up the territory."
Our ablutions are of course of the most
superficial kind. Good old Jacob has not yet
arrived among the pilgrims; and the water
for man and beast comes from dame Nature's
kindness, in opening sundry little springs on
the ravine slopes, in this city of a year.  It
will take years to dig wells. They are not
the absolute necessity that houses are; and
the wonder to me all the while is, what can
they stone them with after they are dug?
There is nothing here but lime-stone. And
the water now is but lime-water, too hard for
cleaning purposes.
The days are intensely hot; everybody
looks wilted and dirty: how can it be otherwise?  Ex-Governor Reeder arrived here today. He is a fine4ooking, man, rather stout,
with grey hair, the mien and air of a gentleman, and of the Philadelphia stamp. The
people here seem very enthusiastic about him,
at which I am not at all surprised. He is a
brave and noble-hearted man.
Every day brings fresh loads of emigrants,
from almost every State in the Union. Many
54 
IN KANSAS.
fine-looking men, and really handsome women,
and often quite large families of children, too,
arrive. They tarry at the hotel for a night or
two, then spread away to homes commenced
for them somewhere in this bewildering wide
country. Meanwhile I go over to the cabin,
to hasten the completion of the floor. The
promise of a few boards is a mere myth.
The mill has a spasmodic "fever and ague."
Just when you most hope to receive boards
from it in return for logs, a "chill" comes on.
No work done to-day!
The "lad" and his mother walk up Massachusetts street, to select a stove. We take
time to discuss the different varieties and different prices. We go over to the cabin, and,
sitting upon the old blue chest, go into a
"committee of the whole," on finances.  The
principal question is, How little can we sustain
ourselves on?  What must we have to use, in
the way of implements? First, then, we
must have a stove.  The price, thirty-three
dollars! is qLuite frightful; but it will bring
many conveniences with it; a thought of
much moment in beginning at the foundation
of civilized house-keeping two thousand miles
55 
SIX MONTHS
from the active, ever-inventive Yankee spirit,
where a want is hardly expressed before some
ingenious mechanic, with more time than
money, and a strong desire to make money,
produces the article your necessities, whether
real or artificial, demand.
We go out again; the stove is purchased.
Across the street, at a little  "s]Take" shop, we
see tubs and pails; we pass over and purchase two cheaply-made tubs, a pail and a
broom, all amounting in price to nearly
double what you pay at home; but they are
among the necessities; our consciences are at
ease. Madam takes the broom, the lad one
side of the tubs, which she makes a level by
placing her left hand in the handle on the
other side. This is our promenade to the
cabin. Now we suspend operations, while
poor Typhoid receives the remnant of the
day in some trifling attentions to her bodily
wants. Verily she is a pattern of quiet patience, going through the routine of a fever
where people come and go in a common public room; making no complaint nor unreasonable demand.
It is quite amusing to hear travellers make
56 
IN KANSAS.
excuse to leave the apartment, when in any
way it comes out that it is "Typhoid," upon
the lounge. Not everybody, but some, perhaps
the largest proportion, are afraid. To-night
there comes one to tarry for the night who
carries in his mien the beauty of manly courage. How I wish for the power, my mother,
of graphic delineation, so that this specimen
might appear before you as he did to me.
Somewhere in an old family bible, well worn
with use and bearing a broken clasp upon
one side, I have a distinct recollection of an
engraving of one of the prophets. Often of
a Sunday, in that old east room, where few
people ever ventured (for it was the best
room), I took the heavy bible from its place
on the table between the windows into a
chair, and with a child's curiosity, took a peep
at those old pictures. No one ever explained
them. They have all passed away from my
memory with the exception of this grand
old prophet. Even now I see the fine head,
the majestic beard, the heavy masses of curling hair, the uplifted hand and upturned eyes,
with the flowing robes! Once, a very few
years since, and yet how long it seems! that
J
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SIX MONTHS
picture came to me, up among the hills,
whither; in summer, we all love to take flight.
It was August, when nature works so effectually that she can afford to seem idle; when
the stillness of every growing thing is equal
to the great progress it is making towards its
fullness; when the white rolling clouds skim
over the deep blue sky in heavy, harmless
profusion. From the tea drinking of a farmhouse, with those who were dearly beloved,
we entered a by-road for a twilight ramble.
The sunset was most magnificent. We stood
in silence till it sank below a fine wood in the
distance. Clouds of the most gorgeous colors
followed in the train: then a space of that
clear, warm blue which often is to be seen
before twilight, and, hanging above it, a heavy
white drapery. We turned to look. A cry
of one note - an instinctive clasping of every
hand. We stood before the prophet again!
clearly cut from that fleecy cloud, of size colossal, yet grandly proportioned. 0, that it
should ever fade away! The prophet of my
childhood, came to me again! Not a word
was spoken till the picture merged itself in
the masses of cloud. And, even to this day,
58 
IN KANSAS.
there is to us who saw it a sudden thrill whenever we speak about it, always ending with
the remark, "If we could only see it again!"
No actual could, of course, ever equal those
two pictures in memory's gallery. But here
comes a smaller edition of the same thing,not small, though; very large, measuring one
man with another, - a great deal of clear
white hair, and an answering white beard;
forehead high and broad; eyes deep-set under
shaggy brows, and of a piercing brightness;
a figure more than six feet; a voice mellow
as the softest bass. He sits by Typhoid and
talks, without fear of any disease, as though
he was her father and everybody's father.
He tells her of the great sickness up in the
territory, - how whole families are on their
beds, in some instances, with no one to bring
them a drop of water; the doors of their cabins standing open. They are helpless to
defend themselves, or provide for the most
trifling want. When he arose to go I stood
up, too; he  gave every one his hand, and
passed out to sleep in his wagon, under a
buffalo, with a canopy of sail-cloth.   The
grasp of his hand was a benediction. Who
59 
SIx MONTHS
ever he may be, whatever place he may fill
among men, in person and majestic manner,
I "ne'er shall look upon his like again."
Sept. 25th.- Your trio of descendants, my
dear mother, take possession of the cabin today.  The trunks, four in number, are moved
over; the boards constituting the floor are
drawn close together in the centre of the
room, so as to accommodate the cooking stove,
which we are hourly expecting. Alice and
myself are sewing up some sacks of coarse,
unbleached cotton, to be filled with prairie
hay and used as mattresses to our lounges,
which we have the promise of to-night.
We sit a while upon one trunk, then try
another, hoping it may be more comfortable;
then we mount the old blue chest; but we
cannot, in either position, cheat ourselves into
the belief that we find rest to our backs.
This leads us into another "committee of the
whole" upon the question of indulging in the
luxury of chairs. We price them, but can
find nothing cheaper than two dollars seventyfive cents for a most frightfully-painted wooden
rocking-chair, and one dollar each- for ordinary
60
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IN KANSAS.
kitchen chairs, not enough easier to sit in than
the changes of baggage to justify the expense.
Meanwhile, sewing at the sacks, we take a
peep at the chinks and corners of the cabin.
The day is intensely hot; flies are having a
home-like frolic, up midway in the room, and
number more than ever I saw in one room
before. They do not, however, seem inclined
to interfere with us, their happiness being
complete in the warmth of the day and the
merry roominess of the space between us and
the rafters. Soon I see coming down the
beam near me a cricket-looking body, only
large as a half-dozen home crickets. I move
suddenly, but say, very quietly, "Ned, what
lodger is this?" HIe is intimately acquainted
with them, for he points to quite a small army
of them in another direction, and says, "Only
crickets. Everything grows large in this
country. They won't hurt you. Why, they
lived here by right before we came." Verily
the boy is more of a philosopher than his
mother. Will she ever get rid of her fear of
bugs?
Now comes the man with two narrow frames
for beds, into which I have cords laced, after
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SIX MONTHS
the manner of a bedstead, believing they will
be softer than the bars of wood laid across.
We get them in readiness; hunt out the two
blankets and one pillow, which we brought
along in a trunk for any emergency. The
"Bay State shawls" are fastened up and
turned into tapestry against the walls, back
of the lounges. Two quilts of stripped-up
dresses, done by your hand, dear mother, are
brought from the chest, and with them sheets,
too, with the New England clean-odor still
in their folds   What  nice little beds they
seem, if they are but prairie grass. Now,
just as we light a candle, comes a dried, mottled little man, with the stove. He is equal
to what he undertakes, and soon puts it in
the right place, with the long funnel peering
out above the roof. He kindles a fire to make
sure his work is well done, and squats himself
upon the floor to watch the result, and rest
himself. I stand with the candle in a Japan
candlestick of curious pattern, having a tube
for matches, a dinner-plate-like bottom, from
the centre of which rises a spy-glass set of
tubes, which push the candle up or down as
may be desired. The little man warms his be
62
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IN KANSAS.
grimed hands by the open stove-doors. What
a picture we make in the fantastic grouping
of fire-light and candle-light; bright, clean little
beds, heavily-corded trunks, a pleasant child's
face, the dark, barn-looking roof, into which
we can only trace objects dimly and fitfully
as the fire burns up brightly or fades through
want of fuel; and, standing in the background, the carroty-haired youth, with gray
clothes, and felt hat drawn down over his
eyes. The little man seems loth to go. We
want our supper, and he wants sympathy, and
asks it, creeping closer to the fire, for the
nights are damp. He must tell me, in tedious
detail, how sick he has been in his shop, with
no one to care for him; and, child-like, goes
back to his native home in Ohio, tells me all
his little troubles, and how he always told his
mother, in his letters home, that his health
was very good, it would make her so unhappy
to hear anything else. Out into the darkness
went the little man, with a pleasant "Good
night" from those who gladly made a light
supper, and put themselves into a night position.
How much like sleeping out doors it seemed!
63
I
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SIX MONTHS.
the cabin so small and thin. Out on the main
street there were all manner of discordant
noises - loud and angry talking, with an occasional report of fire-arms; nearer, even close
to the cotton door, were the tinkle of cowbells and the lowing of cattle. I call to Ned
to explain their uneasiness. He says, an ox
was shot close by, yesterday, and the skin
hangs not far distant upon a fence, around
which the cattle paw the ground, and moan,
after the fashion of an Irish "wake."
This is too novel a position to be wasted in
sleep. The moon comes in through the cotton windows. I watch the mice (not less than
a dozen) play over the bridge of a floor, race
over our baggage, climb up our nice shawl
curtains; and, growing strong with the necessity for it, I drive them away only when they
come too near the quilt. Morning comes, with
no bread for breakfast, and no bread-store or
baker to fall back upon in such an emergency.
There is some Graham flour, so we will have
some griddle cakes. But what can we make
them up in? Our utensils consist of a washbasin of tin, a tiny tea-pot, a mug, brought
64
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IN KANSAS,
with the tea-pot in my basket, a very little tin
pail, property of the boy house-keeper, but of
quite questionable cleanness, and an iron spoon
with part of the handle broken off. The pail
and spoon are made clean. But there is no
salt-nevertheless we manufacture the cakes
without it in the little tin pail, with water, and
a pinch of soda. Just here I gained a new
idea. The water is very strongly impregnated
with lime, making bread or cakes, without
soda, quite light; some butter, which could be
dipped with a spoon, was used for frying; and
the lime-water cakes, made in a hopeless state
of ind, were light and very palatable.  Alice
turned the tubs over, the smallest tub mounted
upon the larger, and spread three plates upon
it. She was in an amusing state of dismay
when she discovered that there was no way of
sitting round her new-fashioned table, without
chairs. So we shook hands with the little teapot, having the mug for our tea cup, arranged
upon the old blue chest, and made love to the
cakes from plates settled carefully upon our
laps.  We now again went into the science of
economy, counting over our fast diminishing
store of gold, and the many things we must
6*
65 
SIX MONTHS
have; while there opened to the eyes which
had travelled the longest and saddest road, a
picture of a long, new winter, which gladly,
most gladly, she would have turned away from.
Oct 1st. - Susie, who has been poorly for
several days, has now a serious fever upon her.
I go every day to "smooth her up;" little Typhoid, still unable to go about, is taken up
stairs into the same room with Susie. They
manifest their distress, as well as their gratitude, in as different ways as possible. Typhoid
is peace and patience itself; Susie keeps up a
loud demonstration of her pains and wants.
But she is very pleasant, too. I believe she is
really much the sickest person; and am afraid
there will be more sickness in that house.
Coming home, I find the man of whom we
get our milk, at the door.  This man I must
tell you about. Just opposite my door, twenty
rods distant, stands a cabin made of turf The
man who lives in it keeps a few cows, and sells
their milk. He is rather a good4-looking specimen of a man, and quite gracious in his manner. Report says he is a clergyman from
Pennsylvania. At any rate, his mission here
66
i
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IN KANSAS.
seems to be, to make money.  He trusts no
one for milk, but sells you so many little tickets, each counting for a quart of milk, at five
cents per quart. So far, so good. Daisy kept
the tickets, and, what was more difficult, hunted up some sort of a vessel to put the milk in.
But to-night there was something on his mind,
and after I came in, he said he must raise the
price of milk to eight cents a quart. It seemed to me quite a lift, from five cents to eight,
but as I was not responsible for his plans, and
did not wish to chaffer with him, I simply said,
"We will reduce our quantity then." Thinking it over afterwards, how important milk was
to the children, I called a "council," to consider
about the expediency of buying a cow. Edward accordingly looked around and priced
cows. We could get a good cow, for this
country, for twenty-five dollars; and with her
a calf, which, we learn, is always used as a
"decoy-duck" to bring the cow home. We
made up our minds that a cow was a matter
of necessity, and of course a piece of economy,
and that we would take up the remainder of
the tickets and then set up on our own account in the milk line. Meanwhile, sickness
67 
SIX MONTHS
multiplies everywhere, and the heat is very
oppressive. I mounted the second story of
the little barn I told you of, to see some men
who, I was told, were sick there. In my hand
was a pitcher of gruel, with a cup over it, for
the double purpose of a cover and to feed them
from, and in my pocket a silver spoon. The
first man had a very sore mouth from salivation; he could hardly speak, but his fever was
entirely gone; indeed, he had been brought in
from the country, and from some "claim"
which he had taken up previous to his sickness.  He was partly dressed, and I asked him
to lay upon the other bed, while I made his
more comfortable.   He  seemed very much
surprised to see me at all, as well as at my
request; but he obeyed. I "dressed," to use
the Irish epithet, his bed as well as possible,
went out and got a pitcher of fresh water,
washed his face and hands, using a clean linen
from my pocket for the purpose. "Now,;' I said,
"You must eat; it will clear out that dreadful
mouth to swallow this gruel." He seemed to
doubt his ability to get it down; but was quite
assured by my confidence, and, taking my direction, which always is, when the mouth or
68 
IN KANSAS.
throat is sore, to drink from a cup or tumbler
large swallows, without stopping, till the vessel
is empty-he drained the cup, and held it out
for more, which I gave him. How glad he
looked! Now he spoke with comparative ease;
and I helped him into the newly-made bed,
quite refreshed.
I knocked at the next door, from which
came a faint "Come." It was a sort of closet,
opening from the other, hot as an oven, almost,
and contained two narrow racks for beds; upon
one of which a slightbuilt, young fellow lay,
looking as though he was buried, so far as
friends were concerned. He looked so young
and slight, I could have cried over him, if it
would have done anything towards making
him bigger and more fit to fight out a destiny
in Kansas. But I did not conclude it would;
on the other hand, I had made up my mind
previously, that water, as an application, could
not injure any person or thing hereabouts. So,
brushing up the young man's hair with my
hands, I kneeled beside him and tried to rouse
him. Hle did not notice me much, or indeed
anything else, till I said, "You will feel refreshed if I bathe you." So, after this pre
69
J 
SIX MONTHS
liminary, I went through with his head, face,
and arms; then took the spoon and fed him,
as you would a child. He did not need much,
and was too sick to take it if he had desired it.
But after he was through, and I turned to go
out, he threw his arms over his head, turned
his face to the wall, and I heard him say: "I
ain't been so happy this thirteen months;
'pears like my mother has come."
I crept out, down stairs, to the room below,
where David was sick. He had his share of
attention, and begged of me to come againto which I replied, he should have his share of
my spare time. I then went into the house
to ask what provision had been made for the
night. Phebe said John would lie down on
a couch by David, and take care of him.
David seemed almost too sick to be put off
with anything less than a wide-awake watcher;
but I did not like to interfere. Besides, John
was sitting upon the sill of the "wen" door,
close by me; the night was coming in damp,
and it seemed to me that he did not look well.
Phebe said, in answer to my question, that he
was not; but John did not speak to me. I
thought his manner very strange. I still
70
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IN KANSAS.
thought of it after I came into my cabin, and
could not feel easy about the night arrangement for the sick.
Without being at all "clever," according to
the English definition of the word, I do not
think any person ever had keener instincts
than myself. I often account for it on the
principle that no creature is made without
some peculiar, personal power of safety, or
monition of what course to pursue as a means
to that end. Be that as it may, certain I am,
my work was hastened in the morning so as
to be ready early to go the rounds.  Before
they were completed, a messenger came for
Edward to go out five miles, to a cabin where
four men were "down" (to use the country
expression) with chills and fever. It seemed
a clear case of duty to let him go, for a few
days at least,- provided he could secure
Paine, his old chum, to guard  us at night.
This was readily promised by Paine; and Edward rolled up his buffalo, jumped into the
wagon, and was off My visit was thus retarded.  But soon I was on hand, full of the
foreshadowing of more sickness.
Poor Davie, and poor John, indeed.  John
71
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SIX MONTHS
laid himself down at Davie's feet, so, as he
said, Davie might kick at him and wake him,
if he slept too soundly.  Davie's fever is very
severe. John sank into a dead sleep, which
often precedes sickness, not to be arouses by
the pressure of Davie's foot, but to writhe in
convulsions of which he had no cognizance.
I can hardly think of poor, honest and patient
Davie's night in that little barn-manger, without getting into a fit myself- it seems so
dreadful - suffering as he is, receiving no
help himself, and seeing this large, stout man
rolling upon his narrow bed, until at last he
springs over upon the floor, bruising his nose
and face, causing the blood to flow as though
he was butchered outright. Now, when the
excitement is too much for Davie, and the
peril to John quite serious, some one of all
the hard sleepers in those rooms wakes, gets
up, and takes the matter in hand.
My visit findjs Davie purple almost with
L.ever, three men holding John so that he may
not harm himself, and the room in the greatest confusion. John, it seems, cannot possibly
live. My anxiety is to get Davie out of the
room. I remember the two beds, one only of
72
k
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IN KANSAS.
which was occupied by Sore Mouth, up stairs,
and in less time than I take to write it out
to you, Davie was carried up there. I go up
and sit down between Sore Mouth and Davie,
and talk pleasantly for a while, making a very
free use of cold water. They both talk to me
of their moters. Verily woman is majestic to
her children, whatever she may be to any
other person. These men,with coarse, brown
features, unshaven faces, uncut hair, large and
brawny arms, rough and horny hands, how,
in this interval of repose from hard labor,
their thoughts go back to their childhood's
home! and the mothers who bore them were
the strong ties still holding them there. This
is the fine gold in their hard natures, and almost the only charm, except that of relieving
human suffering, which made their sick rooms
pleasant. Here we were, all strangers to each
other,- they confiding in mQ, and I striving
to shut out some of the painful portions of
their condition by making other portions more
prominent,- which were indeed sources of
great comfort.
There is in reality no romance in a sick room,
especially if one has no personal interest in
7
73
I
II
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SIX MONT
the parties. The romance of disease exists
only in beautififi engravings, never coming
out of the frame: like pictures of charming
children, who never have dirty faces, torn
clothes, or an evident necessity for pockethandkerchiefs, hair-brushes or fine-tooth combs;
-so, in these places of pain, where, from the
new and unfinished state of everything, comfort is not to be had, it is made pleasant to go
and come only by remembering long sicknesses of my own - blessed gifts from heaven
-wherein I learned how to suffer with those
who suffer. Getting up to finish my round,
and look in once more upon John, Sore
Mouth says, sadly, "You have not been in
this Territory long, if you had, you could not
laugh so lightly." Poor fellow, he did not know
that the laugh was designed to aid directly the
operation of his medicine-thrown in as a
part of his necessary medical attendance.
Again I went in to poor John. I tried to
make him know me; but he was wholly un conscious, and so little like a human being I
could not bear it, and, for the first time, this
morning, I went into the ten-foot wen, sat
down by the cooking-stove, and burst into
74
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IN KAiSAS.
tears. Phebe came and stood by me, weeping.
Then it dawned upon me that she loved John,
and was probably engaged to him. Meanwhile Typhoid came for me, to say that Mr.
C       had  returned  the  night previous,
very sick, and that the first person he asked
for was myself. While I stood talking with
her about it, I noticed for the first time a gentleman, to whom she immediately introduced
me as Mr., of Philadelphia.  His name
you will remember as one familiar to me-he
having been recommended to me as a proper
legal adviser, should I need one. But, now I
have seen him, I am pleasantly reminded of
your dear son-in-law, Mr. Andrews, to whom
he bears a most striking resemblance. I have
neither time nor heart now to talk with him;
I tell him so-it is my way, you know- and
then I go to see after Mr. C
Hie is in the chamber over the hotel parlor.
I knock. He answers, "Come in." He is
thrown upon a narrow bed, still dressed, just
as he came in from his political travels
through the Territory. In the room are two
wide beds, occupied by Germans with their
wives. The women have risen; the men are
75
I, 
SIX MONTHS
sick. From two more narrow beds the occupants are shaken out and gone.   Cseems more worn out than sick, and quite distracted with the confusion of his room. I ask
him if he will go home with me. He says,
"Oh yes, most gladly!" I rush down stairs and
out at the door, to see if any carriages are
standing about. While looking round, one
drives up. I attack the owner of it, like a
highway robber, asking very earnestly, not for
his purse, but for him and his carriage, to take
a sick man a few rods to a cabin. He looked
at me very curiously; but when I said Mr.
C      must suffer much from any delay, as
he was in want of immediate rest, the name
seemed to electrify him; he drew his horse
close to the hotel door, and I started for home
to be in readiness for his arrival. I had, in
fact, given the possibilities in the case no
thought at all - my poor accommodations,
want of bedding and every convenience. It
was another of those instinctive acts, which
are always pleasant afterwards for me to look
at; not as being a part of myself, but because
I attach to them what you, who are wise may
consider as a fallacy, the conviction, always
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IN KANSAS.
so pleasant, of not being alone; of having
another mne, beside this most disagreeable intractable me, who sometimes'comes to my
help, so that I may lay up some treasures,
pleasant to overhaul when the mind is in repose and solitude.
The carriage arrived almost as soon as myself; and Mr.         followed close upon it,
to offer any assistance. The cabin, after all,
did not look so very badly. It was swept up
clean, and had a sort of cleaned-up aspect, not,
withstanding the cotton-wood floor; which
you must know is very much like the downy
side of cotton-flannel, and when experimented
on with Kansas soil, becomes quite a peculiar
color to neat housekeepers, who have had but
one idea hitherto of floors, viz: that they
should be washed occasionally.
Mr. C      is a slight-built person, delicate
complexion, sandy hair, fine forehead, gentle,
manly manner, and about twenty-seven years
of age.  Is a native of Charleston, South
Carolina, has a wife and three children, and a
most devoted mother; all now living in Baltimore. I take the place of his mother at once.
I help him off with his extra clothes and his belt
77' 
SIX MONTHS
with pistols; the latter are loaded, and he asks
me to please place them under his bed within
reach. This, mother, is a necessity of the country; and sick as he is, the habit makes him
ask for the safe deposit of his means of personaldefence. I feel so glad I have one pillow here for him, and two of those large,
heavy blankets, because on this narrow couch
one blanket can be doubled so as to answer
for two. Poor fellow, he simply remarks, "How
good the bed feels," and is fast asleep. I unlock the blue chest and dig up from its capacious depths the old piano cover, out of which
I create a drapery around the front side of
the little bed. Little Daisy and myself creep
round as quietly as the mice; and the poor
worn man, just home from a tramp through
this great world of territory, sleeping in wagons or under them, speaking to assembled settlers in the open plain and under the stars,
with the damp ground to stand upon, has a
chance, I hope, to sleep away the indications
of long sickness.  But no; when he sleeps
even, there is a burning heat'fusing itself
through his frame. I bring another sort of
couch, made up for the occasion, close to the
78 
IN KANSAS.
stove, and lay myself away upon it. The
night grows very cold, and the wind creeps in
everywhere. I am in a perfect chill, and cannot get warm even by a large fire. Mr.
C      sleeps quite well, and the unnatural
heat about him makes him insensible to the
change of temperature. How I shiver, and
remember all the poor who know no other
way of passing their autumn nights or winter
days, than in this forlorn chill. If my bedclothes were only here, how comfortable we
all might be!  Strange they are so delayed!
P      sleeps soundly over-head, with a few
old quilts of his. Can I ever learn to make
so hard a bed the place of rest, forgetfulness,
or dreams? Ah, mother of mine, I do like a
nice bed, and am quite homesick without it
all the while. Though P  seers comfortable,
I cannot reconcile it to myself not to place
him more according to my ideas of ease and
rest.
Morning is met with gladness —for the days
are still warm. Morning brings the Doctor,
and he confirms my fears of a fever for Mr.
C. Now the cotton door is thronged with
calls, to see or learn of my poor patient. At
79 
SIX MONTHS
first, I hardly dare refuse admittance. But,
as the case becomes more serious, I close the
door upon all. Now, surely, this mother's son
and wife's and children's solace and support,
must be closely cared for.
I leave Alice to watch, while I make a short
call on other sick folks. Davie seems to need
me most. Hle says, if he could have me all
the time for two or three days, he should
surely be well. John is certainly better; he
takes some notice of those about him.  It
seems wonderful indeed!
Edward has returned, leaving his men all
better, and is quite tired out himself. He
has found a cow, and we are enjoying the
nice milk very much.   Mr. C's fever is
unabated, and he is very restless under it.
He is, I find, quite an important person in the
political circle of Kansas; and as there is a
State convention called to meet in about two
weeks, his progress towards recovery seems
retarded by his anxiety to be able to take his
seat.
I am beginning to get very tired; but I can
not give up my post at all.  Other sick people are getting on faster than Mr. C-.
80
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IN KANSAS.
I drop away from them, to hurry him along.
Wise men of the nation come in shoals to
to the door, to say how important he is to
them; and to express thanks for my taking
him in charge. I had not the least idea that
he was of more consequence than Davie, or
any other person, when I took him home.
But I see very plainly his temperament will
make it hard work to get him up rapidly. I
must devote myself to him. Here I sit, mother;
the cooking stove is at my right hand, my
poor invalid at my left; on the stove-hearth,
stands the last of grand-father's coffee cups,
which he fancied so much for their generous
size, and standing in it the spoon, bearing
your name at full length. I wonder how
many times I read it every day, scan each
letter, measure the whole word, knitting the
while, often with my eyes closed, from a soreness gathering into them for the want of
sleep. Now I see the lips of the sick man
move. I lift the nice old spoon to moisten
them, and return it again to the cup. Down
before me is a tin wash-basin, full of ice-water,
and a napkin old and soft.  It seems to mesmerize the heated features, by its softness and
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SIX MONTHS
coolness. The eyelids cease to quiver; quietness is in the cabin; my portfolio is at hand
and takes the place of the knitting work;
you are in my thought and close by me, with
your womanly wisdom. The pencil, however,
has no fears in limning for you, and through
you, for others. You will smooth the defects,
take in at a glance the divided thoughts
between the sick and the well, the discomfort of writing without a table or an easy
posture, day or night, without change of
ideas or condition, from the fifteen-feet square
of cabin, in which, look up or down, you feel
as though every utensil and every article of
apparel had been suddenly stricken with
spasms, or gone irrecoverably out of its place.
Oct. 10th. - Our milkman called to say
there was a very sick man in his cabin, he
would like me to come in and see what I
thought of him.  I asked if his wife was well;
whereupon he said he had no family but
this man, who had been sick some time,
though not dangerously; but now he seemed
worse, and he thought if I would stop with
82
I
I 
IN KANSAS.
broth or gruel when I went by, it would do
him good to share it. Of course I went.
The cabin is simply a roof, with a fire-place
and entrance at one end and a window at the
other. I was surprised on entering, to see
how very clean and comfortable it looked
within. The walls were covered with cotton
cloth; the ground with a cotton carpet; on
each side of the window a bed was fitted in,
and upon one of them lay the sick-man. He
was alone, and I was almost afraid to go close
to him at first. So I poured out some chickenbroth, for he had no fever, and went to his
bed with it in my hand, after having set the
door wide open. - Mother, you need not tell
anybody; but I am truly a very great coward
when my mind is in repose.
Mr.  H's hair was  very gray,  an;
turned back from his forehead; his face pale
and deathly, but dirty for want of washing.
He had a buffalo skin over him, and when
asked if he was warm, answered distinctly,
"Yes;" though it appeared at a glance, that his
mind was worn to shreds. I think his mouth
is very handsome; but there is something
about the atmosphere of his presence which
83 
SIX MONTHS
kept me wanting to run home. I said to myself, "What a fool you are, why don't you feed
him? nobody can be good when they are
hungry."
How much we talk about the wickedness
of the poor. But it's of no use trying to make
them better; no use to talk to them about
their souls, till we wash, and feed, and clothe
their bodies. The wants of the body are an
unforgotten fact, ever present. But the broth
will get cold; so I'll feed this sad old man, and
go. I ask him to take it, presenting the spoon,
and holding the mug in the palm of my hand,
with the fingers brought up over it. I am
thus particular, because of his remark, over
which Mr. C. has laughed heartily, and perhaps
you may. The broth seemed to suit; but all
the while he kept looking at the mug, as I
supposed.  Presently he smiled, and then he
looked as though he would cry, but said, with
the faintest voice, and with quite an interval
between each word, "I should like to know
who it is that feeds me." I told him I was
Edward's mother. But he did not understand,
evidently. Indeed, everything I said seemed
to break the chain of his own thoughts. Now
t
c
84 
IN KANSAS.
he rallied again, and smiled; but his only
remark while I stayed, was, "There is a great
difference in hands." Once, before I put my
hands to steep in lime-water, I should have
considered it complimentary, now I was wholly
at a loss how to take him. But I made up
my mind that the milkman should wash him
clean, and I would feed him; and I accomplished my purpose.
Now, Edward has to go for me, for I am
very lame and tired. But I have received a
blessing in the shape of a brother of Mr. C.,
Lieut. C. of Baltimore, an older man, and a
most willing, as well as excellent nurse. He
comes in fresh and strong; keeps the fire up
all night; sleeps like a soldier, with one eye
open, and upon the floor, ready at a moment.
Mr.       has been  the most devoted  of
friends. I wish you knew him, Mother, he is
so much like Mr. Andrews. The best rest I
have had has been when he has taken my
place.
Oct. 20th.-No news of my boxes yet, and
the weather has become very cold. There
never was such a wind as those rocky moun
8
85 
SIX MONTHS
tains send over the country. It rocks the
cabin like a cradle; and we can hardly hear
each other talk. I feel as though we must be
blown into the river, or off over the prairie.
I open my lips sometimes, to call out to the
mountains to "shut up that door, and not to
freeze us out entirely. Why, you are worse
than the Missourians. They want to burn us
out; and between you both, where shall we
fetch up?" Cotton windows won't do this
weather, so we put in glass ones. Mr.
holds a candle in the evening, while Mr. P
puts one in; and I keep a great shawl up as a
screen between the sick and the draught.
Now for a wooden door! It is among the
"must haves."  Now I make paste, and secure
every pair of hands I can, to help paste up
newspapers over the walls of the cabin.
For several days, another invalid, a young
clerk from Boston, has come in to be fed.
There is quite a breaking up of eating places;
perhaps because of sickness. I am too much
of a stranger to know, and too little given to
asking questions to learn. This young man I
pity very much. He has chills and fever upon
him alternately; and has no regular home.
86 
IN KANSAS.
He sleeps in an office, where I called twice to
see him.  Now, he creeps out a little; but
there never was any disease so fully up to and
really capable of, taking the entire pith out of
a man as this same chills and fever.  I could
not refilse the sad victim of such rough handling the blessing of a warm meal, at any hour
of day or night. Now, if ever, it is hard upon
me to do it heartily. I am so cold, COLD; it
seems as though my blood was frozen. Neither day nor night have I been warm this
week. But we must paper out the cold wind
- colder than any known to the oldest inhabitant.
Little Daisy keeps in bed. She does not
seem very sick. Perhaps'tis the weather.
My heart almost fails me; but it won't do;
everybody will freeze if these papers are not
put on, two or three thicknesses. One can
have no idea how much good they do, till they
live in a "shake" cabin. My paste is used up.
Two bricks are on the top of the stove, heating, to place as sentinels at the feet of my
patients, to keep the wind out. The Lieut. is
on hand, cheerful, careful for us all. I am
tired; and by the great fire which he has kin
87 
SIX MONTHS
died, my aching limbs seem quite disposed to
thaw. The day's work is over. He spreads his
buffalo over the back of the great rocking
chair, and bids me get well heated up before
bed time. Daisy sleeps; so does the boy up
over head. I think of my clerk only, just now,
anxiously.  He did not come in for his "toast
and tea." My head lies easily against the
warm buffalo. The poor clerk seems, to the
almost dozing fancy, many, very many sick
men-resting in uneasy, crazy-looking beds,
and very many in a bed; in fact, each bed
seems a nest of rough, uncombed heads, with
burning cheeks and shaggy beards;  while
hands, hard and sunburnt, reach after me; lips
move imploringly for me to moisten them. I
am hunting hopelessly-the awful hopeless
ness of nightmare-for water, napkins, and
gruel. Oh, they will all die, and I can't help
them. I utter a cry, which startles even myself. My surprise is momentary, to find myself
in bed, with people watching carefully over
me. My mind slips out of the things they say
and do, into the states in which it has been
strained to the utmost for many days. Now,
the hurry is, to keep a poor forlorn woman
88 
IN KANSAS.
from freezing. My gray travelling dress is the
first thing I put my hand to, and strip it into
narrow ribbons, to tuck into the cracks about
her bed. The excitement again gives vent to
itself in mutterings, and broken words, waking
me again to a sense of pain and sickness. Now
reason comes back to me; and close to it, for
a moment, I hear the flapping of the wings of
despair. The hub of the wheel is broken, what
will they do without me?
It is daylight.  Mr.       has just closed
the door softly after him, and gone home to
get a nap, after his night's watching. In the
rocking-chair sits the good Lieutenant, sipping
a cup of tea. Again the door opens, and Edward comes in with the milk. I lift the corner
of my curtain and look over to see how the
sick man is. ]le, too, is sipping tea. I'm sure
he must be better. It makes me better to
think he is.  The quick ears of the Lieutenant
hear me; he bobs his curling hair up above
the chair, turns his honest, cheerful face round
to me. "Tell me how many children you
have," I asked. I believe he thought me out
of my senses. But he answered me truly"Four."  "Then you can have no objections
8*
89 
SIX MONTHS
to my calling you' Uncle Jeff,' for I am in my
second childhood?"  "Call me anything you
please, so you only get well," was his reply.
Now it dawns upon me more fully, that I
am sick. I beg to get up. I beg, too, if I
cannot get up, that they will not tell you.
Indeed, I'm quite sure I can write you myself
in a few days; and, like my sick people over
the way, I am ready to speak falsely almost,
rather than you shall hear how badly-off we
are. I can form no idea of the time I have
been laid aside. By the pain and weariness,
and the dead level of thought, it seems as
though time moved sluggishly, and would
never end. How powerless we all lie here;
full of the strange fancies of sick people; longing for something quite impossible to obtain;
or if obtained, quite unsuitable for us to have.
But O! the water - the water, gushing
down the stony streams of dear New England!
-never failing in the old mossy-stoned wells
-how our lips parch for some of it! how our
thoughts dwell upon its coolness, abundance,
and sparkling - clearness, until, in feverish
dreams, we seem to reach and taste it!  How
we go back, always to pleasant home-looking
90 
IN KANSAS.
chambers, - the glare of light subdued by
green blinds without, and clean curtains
within. How our outraged sense of harmony
and good taste lingers over the conveniences,
as well as decorations belonging to a past life,
from which, by a strange and new turning of
the wheel of destiny, we seem to be entirely
and forever banished.
The habits of years, how strong they become! The tones of a piano, even though it
were but the simple practice of a new learner,
how gratefully it would break upon our ears!
The tones of a bell, telling the hour of day
or night, calling to church, or tolling a funeral
knell -the distant rumble, the nearer whirl,
and still more near shrill whistle of the steam
engine,-how, as never before, would they
make us feel not quite banished from the
earth!
Now " Uncle Jeff" comes to me with tea,
and the promise of a place by the fire tomorrow, should the weather moderate. He
tells me, too, of a grand hunt which is to
come off in a week, the game to be served up
in the dining-room of the yet-unfinished hotel.
He presents me an invitation to the supper,
91 
SIX MONTHS
and is quite sure we shall all be well enough
to attend. The week rolls round: the game
hunt is very successful; birds, turkeys, ducks,
squirrels, rabbits, and blackbirds, almost without number, are brought in to the committee
of superintendence. The tables are well laid,
and  decorated with fancy cooking, got up
under the skilful supervision of a lady from
Worcester. A pie made entirely of blackbirds is an object of general interest. Whether
there were the proper nursery number, of
"four-and-twenty blackbirds baked in one
pie,";' I am not able to learn. But the party
was very successful, and most satisfactory to a
larger number of people than ever before met
for amlusement in this territory- many of
the guests coming thirty-five miles. The
good "Uncle Jeff" does not forget those at
the cabin, whose appetites have outgrown
"toast and tea," but brings in a dish which,
if not a portion of the blackbirds, is quite palatable enough to satisfy even more particular
people than those he serves so kindly.
By way of experiment upon the returned
strength of our nerves, we have had two
shelves put up for the dishes, and a floor
92 
IN KANSAS.
spread over the whole of the chamber. It
was really quite a test of strength, and the
nailing down of the floor was set aside. Now
comes a heavy rain. How dull and dark
everything seems, and how the rain beats
against this cabin, as though it had some especial spite to vent. By way of pastime, we
open the great seal-skin trunk, where, in the
folds of sheets, pillow-cases, and napkins, are
smuggled away bits of choice China,-choice,
not only for its intrinsic value, but from long
association. I believe we are all startled to
find how large a portion of it is crushed in
pieces. As it settles down in my lap from the
folds of the linen, so utterly ruined, I scatter
it through- the cracks of the floor, where the
mice carry on their domestic arrangements.
Now we reckon up that which remains perfect and find we shall have enough for our
own use, and quite as much as the shelves
will hold. Five of your beautiful cups and
four saucers, three of Miss Sallie C's cups,
only, and seven saucers, out of a dozen. What
would the precise old lady say, could she look
down into the mice-territory under this cabin,
where glisten the fragments of what adorned
93 
SIX MONTHS IN KANSAS.
her table so many years? Two tumblers we
find whole, one saltcellar, and plenty of plates.
How rich we feel! and how we begin to
look forward, as well as backward, to a condition of civilized housekeeping! And how,
too, my dear mother, the olden-time housekeeping comes to me, as a Sabbath-rest time,
which will by some process, come round to
me again,-when you will preside, as of old,
and this me keep house within the circle of your
atmosphere. Till then, give your blessing to
your daughter.
H. A. R.
94
0 
THE MISSOURI INVASION.
NOVEMBER 4th, 1855
MY DR MOTHIR: -This is the first Sabbath in November, and we are having a pouring, beating, east-wind rain, -quite an unusual quarter from which to "scare-up" a rain,
or a wind even, in this region of the world.
Our roof does not leak; but the east side of
the cabin is its weak side. The shakes are
not so closely packed; and the newspapers
which we pasted on so carefully are loosening
with the united action of wind and rain. I
am already sliding off the papers, scattered
in such profusion by Mr. C's friends about
him, so as to have some to fall back upon
when the sun comes out again, and the wind,
getting weary, falls asleep.  The inmates of
the cabin are all dressed to-day. Night-gowns
have rolled themselves up meekly and vanished under imaginary pillows. The contents
of the dressing-gown, packed into the great
rocking-chair, with giddy head and shaking
(95) 
SIX MONTHS
hand, strives to get up a magnetic grasp of your
hand and a breath of the repose which, ever
and always, hovers over the room where my
mother lives.
I could not write any more yesterday. We
had a great many callers, gentlemen to see
Mr.C, and we all grew too weary to
make ourselves agreeable, either by talking
or writing. E. has been in quite early this
morning to attend to poor Mr. Hadley. From
E.'s account, I think he must be near the last of
his journey. I hoped in a day or two to go to
see him, he is so very near. But now, while
I write, there comes a tap at the door, which
(we all being invalids), I answer, with a cheerful "Come."  The door is opened by a young
lad about E.'s age; a stranger. He asks, " Is
this Mrs. R.?" To which I respond," Yes." He
steps in, bringing a clean shirt in his hand,
and, laying it upon my lap, asks if I will
"Please put buttons to it, as it is wanted for
Mr. Hiadley's shroud." The work-basket is
lifted down from a nail on the beam over my
head; and, while I select the proper buttons,
the young man tells me he was alone with the
dying man, and that he lived but a few mo
96 
IN KANSAS.
ments after E. came away. And now I sit
here seeing the men of years, who should not
have left these young hands to the sad work
of closing dying eyes, go to prepare the poor,
worn-out body for its safe and last repose.
Poor Hadley! and poor everybody who
comes away from home to die among stranger I am glad he had so little consciousness,
and I give thanks that heaven is as easily
reached from Kansas as from any other point
under the sun. I never, in feeding the poor
creature, could forget that somewhere, perhaps, he had a mother, or a wife, or a daughter, whose heart would wither from never
knowing his final end.  So long as I hare
known him, he has never had clearness of
mind sufficient to tell his own story.
Now the picture changes again. The door
opens to admit Grove LI,  the Governor's
private secretary. He is always welcome,
with his pleasant smile, showing a wealth of
teeth, and his ringing voice, full of the elements of music. He throws off his blanket,
and says he is "bound to stay." I look at
him with a bewildering stare, which he answers back by saying he is sick, and his death,
9
97 
SIX MONTHS
(should he fail to impress the necessity on his
part, and the duty on mine) must be inevitable.
I point up to the loft, as the only resort at
night. He gives a spring up the bars, looks
about, and comes down quite satisfied.
At night he brings his buffalo, chair, and
some books. The great chair is drawn near
enough to the stove to tend the toasting-forks,
and the bread, nicely browned, is passed from
one to another, till those who drink milk, and
those who content themselves with Kansas
tea, are all supplied. Night settles down upon
us. The pinched and faded cheeks of little
Alice are the first to be laid away behind the
piano cover,-which indeed makes a nice bedroom of that corner of the cabin. Then Mr.
C, broken to the merest wreck of manhood by his protracted and exciting sickness,
is established in the warm corner near the
stove. Dressing-gown hangs itself, with tall dignity, upon a nail, while nightgowns have their
turn. The cabin is still. Good Uncle Jeff
has taken care for us all, and at last drawn
out his pillow of wood, rolled himself up in
his buffalo, and is sleeping, as the honest
soul always should, the even sleep of childhood.
98 
IN KANSAS.
There is peace in the cabin, my dear mother.
"The angels of the Lord encamp around
about those who fear him." Far off across
the river, in my wakefulness, I hear the
whoop of the Indian, or the echo of a rifle;
or quite as often, the quarrelling sound of
angry and hungry wolves. We accustom
ourselves to new and disagreeable things with
wonderful facility. The mouse, that I have
just ordered off my bed, is no longer an object of terror, but simply a disagreeable fact,
such as one meets with, in some form, every
day of one's life.
I now calculate the amount necessary for
breakfast, for the fastidious little company in
the cabin; remember with relief the large
loaf of light bread not yet encroached upon;
the beef, from which the best steak can be
cut, if needed; the corn-cake which can be
stirred in a moment if begged for; and
sleep, so coveted, comes in and puts out my
lamp.
Nov. 8th. - We are having a very soft air,
and the most charming weather: no frosts,
and as warm as your June. It gives no
99 
SIX MONTHS
strength to invalids, however, and they get
sad under it. There is but little to interest
minds weakened by long disease. No pleasant suites of rooms to walk through; no
book-shelves to look over, or books of plates,
to beguile the time hanging so heavily; no
seats out doors to sit upon and chat; no daily
mail to stir one's blood, when the announcement is, that the "mail is open."
But here comes Typhoid, tall beyond any
woman I ever saw. An Indian head and hair,
and a fine set of teeth. She has a brown veil
tied under her chin, and a shawl thrown about
her person. We always welcome Typhoid.
She comes with an earnest message this time.
One of the party who arrived from the East,
that bitter cold week, has been there sick ever
since; no one has taken particular care of
him, and now the Doctor pronounces his disease, which is Congestion of the Lungs, so she
said, incurable. Could I go over and see him?
To be sure I would if possible. The hood is
drawn on, the dressing gown exchanged for
the dark print like yours, my shawl twisted
tightly, by the zealous boy, around me, and
with him for a body-guard, we start out.
......
,..:,:-.
.. -X..
100 
IN KANSAS.
We prefer to go into the main street, so
long unseen, and mark the progress of things.
Every step or two I stop and take an observation and give vent to an emotion of surprise
that so much is doing. A city, just one year old,
working up so many nice little stone dwelling-houses and more ambitious stores! A
hotel, too, with its windows all glazed, and its
black-walnut doors shining with the polish of
oil! I have to scramble over great piles of
sand, and heaps of the homesick-looking limestone.   All sorts of merchantable  matters
hang and lie about all sorts of curious looking shops.   Plenty of Missouri marketwagons stand up and down the street.  "Ned,"
said I, "has anybody dug a well?"  "Have n't
heard," was the boy's reply. When shall
the want of water be met? Will this generation produce no "Jacob," who has philanthropy enough to do so praisworthy an
act?  I'm sure he would deserve to have for
his epitaph those concise words: "He diggoed
a well."
But here we are at the door of the sick man.
H e    is in the chamber we occupied during
our    first week in Kansas - a thin, woiman             9*
101 
SIX MONTHS
featured face; light hair in profusion, clammy
with perspiration; not more than twentythree years old. To my inquiries, he said
with politeness, he was very well, "a little
crowded, just a little; it's choking-like to be
crowded;" and he looked about the room.
"What crowds you?" I said. He shook his
head  and  said: "Beds, Beds - very little
room - great many beds!"
"To wet his mouth and smooth the clothes
was all that could be done; and we came
away from him. He has a brother somewhere
in the territory; but, so far, no clue whereby
to find him has been discovered. If we could
only borrow a telegraph wire from you who
are so rich in means and appliances of intercommunication, or an express-train, just for
one day, then this poor youth should receive
the care and love of his brother. What can I
do for him? is the question unanswered, as
we take a cross-way home, no longer cognizant of the outer working of poor human
hands upon mortar, lime-stone and timber.
This poor youth, "crowded," as he says; looking with dim and wistful eyes over his shoulder, with the weight on his breaking faculties
102 
IN KANSAS.
of crowding beds in his sick-room, which
should be so orderly and peaceful. What has
the poor fellow done, that thus in his last
hours he should be so thrust out of home
and place? It is so pleasant to give the departing, the outward semblance of a Saturdayevening readiness and peace, in the arrangements of their rooms and persons, so that
"early," to one so weary, "ere  the day begins to dawn," the sweet repose of the Sabbath may be entered upon by anticipation.
William Dillon, what can I do for thee?
poor, tired, dying emigrant! " Crowded!" crowded indeed! I come home to think of this new
type of suffering. "If his brother -if his
brother could only be found!" I say, as in
my powerlessness I come in to the care of my
own  slowly-recovering  invalids.   I excite
their sympathies by telling them the story
of tired, crowded, dying William Dillon, of
Michigan. They forget their own miserable
feelings, in view of his more desolate condition, and begin to recount the riches of the
cabin.
NVov. 10th.- You will be glad with me, nmy
103 
SIX MONTHS
dear mother, when I announce the sudden arrival of Mr. Dillon. Do you remember a favorite expression of grandmother, that "Man's
extremity is God's opporhunity!" No one here
knew where Mr. Dillon went. The two brothers arrived here as travellers, with a crowd of
emigrants, in a most severe "spell" of weather.
William, being slightly unwell, remained; the
other went his way. Three weeks passed.
People came and went again from the little
hotel; the reserved and quiet sick man attracted no one to him enough  to communicate
his history; so that, when he became very
much worse and his mind broke down, he
could only tell what was known before, that
he had an elder brother who went up further into the Territory. To-day this brother
suddenly appeared. He is wholly overcome
to find his brother so low. Says he had an
impression so strong that his cold had become
a serious sickness, that he could not remain
where he was, at St. Joseph's, and came back
to learn the truth. William recognized him,
and seemed to rally so much that even the
physician thought he might recover. But it
was only the sudden light and warmth stirred
104 
IN KANSAS.
by the emotion of family affection, giving a
glow to brighten his last hours. At twelve
he ate quite freely from the hand of his
brother, and talked pleasantly. At five he
closed his eyes peacefully, to open them on
scenes where he will never "chill" any more,
or feel that smothering crowdedness he so
significantly expressed in his manner, when
he looked at the number of beds about him.
It seems to me now, as though it was not
so much the things there were about him, as
the discordant, unsympathizing atmosphere,
which would most naturally arise from the
ever-shifting occupants of those travellers'
berths.
Nov. 15th.- Our life is a November day,
tearfiul, lowering, and uncertain; promising
faintly, and never renewing earnestly our faith
in a clean and genial sky. My little Alice is
not so well. It does not seem to be the result of a cold, or in any way a relapse. There
is an entire change of symptoms. For three
weeks past she has simply been laid aside
with some fever. She has had bright red
cheeks a portion of the day, and no appetite,
105 
SIX MONTHS
together with a total loss of her usual animation.
The getting up was, like her going down, not
very decided; but she went out to look after
her pets with some of her former interest. I
do not think I have ever told you about a dog
which came here quite of his own accord.
One day a Missourian called with his market
cart, to sell apples and potatoes. He had a
fine dog with him, which, as he was hot,
walked into the next cabin, wnich was quite
unfinished, and laid down to sleep. That cabin
is owned by a wicked-looking man from Alabama, and occupied by another fellow of much
less capacity, from Illinois. The lastmentioned
man was the one who came and finished out
the floor, which I think I wrote you about.
This man took possession of the dog till Missouri had gone home; or, to use his own
words, he "stolehim."  The dog would not,
however, acknowledge him as master; but, as
soon as he was turned out, came and joined
himself to Alice. It seemed a genuine first
lore on both sides. Wherever she went, he
followed; and at night laid himself down close
to the cabin door of cloth, and kept faithful
watch till morning. No creature could come
106 
IN KANSAS.
near without his giving the alarm, in a deep
and terrible growl. He is very large, marked
from nose to the end of his tail in rings of
two shades of tan color, most beautifully shaded. So we gave him the name of "Tiger."
In process of time, Alabama came to live
with Illinois; and as they were in the habit
of slaughtering cattle, he took up Tiger, and
tied him near the meat, to protect it. All
night long the poor fellow howled so as to disturb the whole house. The greatest cruelty
was shown to the dog, because he would not
stay with them; as though there was a royal
road along which love and devotion could be
driven!  Ten days since, Alabama  turned
himself east as far as the old home of Illinois,
they having made an exchange of some property; and our loving, beautiful, brave Tiger
was tied into the wagon and transported also.
Alice has never talked about him, since he was
hopelessly gone. But now my little mountain
daisy is very sick; she cannot turn herself in
bed; and I watch by her, feeling as though I
had brought her into this strange country to
wither and die! In her fever-turns, her mind
wanders back to old and pleasanter objects,
107 
SIX MONTHS
and she says continually, "Please take me
home; oh, I want to go so much!" At times,
it seems quite impossible for her to recover;
but then, again, she brightens up, seems more
comfortable, and the utter impossibility to
conceive of myself trudging along in the world
without her, gives me temporary faith to believe that she will recover.
For two months we have slept upon straw,
with our skirts folded at night, to make pillows, and every garment within reach spread
about us, to keep off the piercing winds, which,
from the non-arrival of our boxes, put our lives
in peril.
There is one impression to which my friends,
in writing, often allude: it is this-that I
looked too much on the bright side of Kansas
life, and should thus suffer more in the reality.
Mother, I don't believe YOU see me in that
light. There must be a defect in me, whereby
I sometimes give an impression quite opposite
to what I intend. I suppose, if I was going to
have a limb amputated, instead of looking forlorn, and uttering sighs and moans, I should
be more likely to joke and laugh over the
matter; quite as much to keep up my own
108 
IN KANSAS.
spirits, as those who might chance to be with
me. You would understand, from instinct, that
it was simply one way of "putting the best
foot forward."
How strange it is, to be sitting here, holding
in my hand a pen, wherewith I relieve myself
by saying anything I please to you; laying
aside, very often, this same pen, which seems
to my spirit to actually touch you, that I may
moisten the parched lips lying close by my
side, powerless to do anything more than
accept the cooling draught.  The kind physician comes in often and sits awhile; but gives
no medicine. She has taken nothing but the
drops of water for nine days; and all her
requests are, "Please take me home; please
take me home."  Mr. C, slowly recovering, sits down by her, and promises to take her
home before Christmas. She believes in him.
Man is ever a gospel to woman from her earliest youth.   But how  shall he  redeem his
promise?
Nov. 21st.- My dear mother, to-day's mail
brought your invaluable letter, which has been
read very often, in curious little scraps of time;
10
109 
SIX MONTHS
coming out from my pocket while waiting for
the boiling of the tea-kettle, or between the
turnings of the toasting bread, the frying griddle-cakes, the handing up a hot meal from the
fire to the hungry sitters around the table, or
the waiting upon the faded blossom stretched
away in the tented corner-now giving hope
of a slow return to health, pleading no longer
simply for water, but bread, too. Poor little
blossom, what wanted I for thee here, that you
are coming again upon the feverish track,
where all wear out a weary or disastrous life?
She has taken your little note and read it very
carefully. Now she talks much about you,
and your nice room, and of all the family.
What strong affections she has! what shall we
do with them?
You will be glad to hear that Mr. C       is
sufficiently recovered to go up into the Territory. If I supposed it would interest you half
as much to hear of the progress of State matters, as I flatter myself it does to hear about
our domestic arrangements, I'm sure I would
pay more attention to all that is going on outside the cabin.
Since the fall elections Missourians have
110 
IN KANSAS.
kept very quiet, coming up here to supply us
with plenty of very fine apples, potatoes, poor
butter, and ordinary flour; making quite a
thriving business out of it, and, as I have supposed, settling down into the conclusion which
we all do, when we learn to know people
that they are better than we expected. Last
week, however, a man living about six miles
from here upon a claim, while walking towards
a blacksmith's shop, was shot down by a party
of Missourians, without any provocation. The
border Missourians are a horseback people;
always off somewhere; drink a great deal of
whiskey, and are quite reckless of human life.
There is no necessity for hard work to those
who have long lived in this country, the earth
yields so very abundantly. They ride fine
horses, and are strong, vigorous-looking animals themselves. To shoot a man is not much
more than to shoot a buck.  After killing this
poor Yankee, they stood around him till they
saw a man approach, and then rode deliberately away. He who first came to the dying
man went immediately to Mr. Branscome's,
where the man had boarded. The two carried the body home. Nothing was done about
111 
SIX MONTHS
it, any way, to my knowledge.'This week, on
Tuesday night, some one knocked at Branscome's cabin-door. He asked, "Who is there?"
The reply was, "A friend." This again was
replied to with a cheerful "Come in, then,"
though it was in the night-time, after people
had retired. Immediately the little cabin was
filled with armed men; the foremost one, going
close to the bed, presented a loaded pistol to
the head of Branscome, commanding him to
rise and dress quickly, for he was a prisoner.
Of course, the man did as he was commanded;
left his poor wife, and was mounted upon a
horse found ready for him by the party.
Meanwhile the party, consisting of less than
twenty, were full of expressions of regret that
no "Yankees" were there to have some fun
with. Officer Jones and his men took first
one road, then another. Branscome became
fully persuaded that his days were numbered,
but sat quietly upon his horse, knowing resistance was quite in vain. It was not long before
the oft-expressed wish of the Missourians was
most singularly gratified. A portion of the
Wakarusa militia company had been over to
see about the murdered man, and were riding
112 
IN KANSAS.
home quietly, by the usual route, when they
met the Missourians, asked "Who goes?" and
were answered, "We have a prisoner."
"Who is it?"
"Mr. Branscome."
The captain of the company said, "Mr.
Branscome, ride out here." Mr. Branscome
rode forward-the sheriff protesting against
the order, but refusing to give any reason for
the arrest; at the same time swearing he
would shoot him if he moved. Mr. Abbot
then replied, "We are all armed, and shall take
Mr. Branscome into our ranks." He then
ordered him off the horse, if it was not his
own. Branscome immediately dismounted.
Capt. Abbot commanded him to fall into his
ranks and "march."  The party from Missouri,
wholly discomfited, and having had quite
enough of "fun" with the Yankees, offered no
farther resistance.
In the short hours of the night, the sound
of a drum came from afar to my wakeful ears,
nearer and nearer, but still not like the rapid
call of a company together. It was simply
one beat, then a pause. The young man who
calls the drum-roll was asleep in the loft over
10*
113 
SIX MONTHS
my head. I was not kept long in suspense, for
he "beat" quite early, to call a citizens' meeting. Lawrence was up and dressed early,
and as wide awake as his ancestors of Seventysix.
The prisoner, and those who came to the
rescue, were called upon to state the facts,
after which my two young friends, Grove
L-and M. F. C, made most effective
speeches. I learn that they did themselves
much credit.
I dare say you may have heard Lawrence
spoken of as an ultra, headstrong young sprig,
who is always treading upon his neighbors'
corns, or otherwise exciting to a fuss. But
there never was a greater mistake. Lawrence
is a hard-working, mind-his-own-business,
money4-loving fellow.  If he hits your toes, it
is not from design, but because his boots
are stiff and clumsy and his manner anything but graceful or fascinating.  Lawrence
has seen hard times in his youth; has been
laughed at by his more prosperous neighbors,
till the ragged urchin made a bad matter
worse by wasting- some considerable emotion
upon the subject; looked round fearfully and
114 
IN KANSAS.
almost imploringly, to see if "Uncle Sam," or
some other relative, would not give a hand
to help him out on better footing. But Uncle
Sam has grown old, gouty, and unfeeling.
Much prosperity and too high living puts him
to nodding in his chair. Alas for his far-off
frontier children, when they have only him to
look to! And New England, dear New England, the very dust of which is most precious
to Lawrence! the whir of her looms, the rattle of her mills, the steam of her numberless
engines, make such a noise that poor, awkward
Lawrence's cry for help is quite unheeded,
except, perhaps, in the passing of a few wellsounding resolutions; which remind one of
champagne, long exposed to the air, from
which the life and sparkle is gone forever.
Lawrence sits down in his cabin. His floor
is of cotton-wood, rough and unwashed; his
venison and beef hang upon the wall; his
vegetables, in baskets over his head. Lawrence listens, with ears sharpened by intense
longing, for sympathy and aid where nature's
great heart prompts him to look for it,-from
his kin. He reads how New England thrusts
her hand into well-filled pockets, and, with
115 
SIX MONTHS
self-gratulation, not to say pharasaical pride,
takes out thousands to send to the sick at
Norfolk, who are surrounded with cities rolling
in wealth, where a sacrifice of any trifling
pleasure would supply many such sorely tried
and afflicted cities with any amount of assistance. -- Lawrence lifts his eyes from the cot,
ton-board floor, with a new light in them. He
thinks of all his suffering brothers and sisters,
from this to the Rocky Mountains, sick and in
want of all things,-no nurses, no water, no
comfortable shelter, no pleasant sounds of
church-bells, or busy marts of thrifty trade, to
bring back receding life, and, more than all,
no ever-returning word of cheer and remembrance from the home that was first and most
dear; and, as he reflects, Lawrence is startled
by the sound of violence within his own precincts. He sat down a homesick, disheartened
youth. He had asked help from the agent
of his great uncle at Washington, without
success. Now the hour for action has come,
and he rises, passes out of his cabin, armed
like a man, ready to defend his rights like a
man,-and may Heaven speed the RIGHT!
My dear mother, this is Saturday evening.
116 
IN KANSAS.
I am alone in the cabin with the faded Daisy.
She has been up for the first time to-day, and
borne her weight by taking hold of different
objects to support her. Now she gladly takes
her place again upon her couch, close by the
stove, and sleeps quietly. Her mind is still
very weak and child-like;-child-like, to be
sure, it always is; and the exciting condition
of the town, our own wakeful nights, do not
affect her with any emotion of fear. How
strange it will seem to you to hear that I have
loaded pistols and a bowie-knife upon my
table at night, three of Sharp's rifles, loaded,
standing in the room, and two or three men
in the cabin beside Edward, except when it is
their turn to keep guard through the little
town. All the week every preparation has
been made for our defence; and everybody is
worn with want of sleep.
The Missourians have taken awful oaths to
destroy this Yankee town, and a price is set
upon the heads of some of our most honored
citizens. Already they have assembled to the
number of two hundred at Franklin, a little
town south of us, and many more at Douglas,
a village farther up the river. They are mov
117 
SIX MONTHS.
ing with great secretiveness; but when was a
Yankee "caught  napping," in the faintest
prospect of danger?
Last night our watch were cheered by the
arrival of fifteen armed men from Ottoman
Creek, who heard of the threatened danger
and travelled till midnight to offer their aid.
And to-day twice that number marched in
with a flag, from Palmyra, another settlement fifteen miles from this.  Paschal Fish,
too, who lives ten miles nearer Missouri than
Lawrence, has heard the rumors, watched with
his Indian keenness the Missourian movement,
mounted his pony, ridden up to see us, and
offered to muster out some of his tribe, to be
on the spot to-morrow. The Wyandott tribe
have sent in one of their number to offer assistance, which is most thankfully accepted.
Your Thanksgiving evening, while you were,
I am sure, talking and thinking of us, I sat
here alone, watching by Alice, pale and faint,
with the sounds of fire-arms coming every few
moments from some direction. Standing at
my door, C's little black pony, saddled,
ready for any moment, has kept me company
all the week. Hie puts his nose against me in
118 
IN KANSAS.
the most kindly manner every time I have
occasion to go out; and we talk long talks
together, he always seeming to end the matter
by saying, "Keep heart, I can take you anywhere you wish to go.
To-night everybody is at the hall. My
orders are, if fire-arms sound like battle, to
place Alice and myself as near the floor as
possible, and be well covered with blankets.
We already have one bullet in the wall, and,
since that, one struck the "shakes" close by
the bed's head and glanced off. Now, for the
first time, I begin to take an interest in Law
rence, as a city; and, prospectively, her destiny is almost as my own. How well her
men bear themselves, in the settlement of
every question which is pressed upon them,
now so important as a matter of national history. I can but hear and know of their
plans, because Lieut. C     and Grove I
are a part of our family, and are among the
most active workers. They come in to talk,
consult with others, and write, if need be.
Sometimes things assume a most amusing aspect; as when, after a serious charge to be
sure and wake them up if the drum beats,
119 
SIX MONTHS
I, hardly daring to close my eyes, at last, halfasleep, hearing the most fiendish outcry ever
borne upon the moon-lit night air, call aloud,
"Wake up, quickly! there is trouble of some
kind, for nothing but a Missourian could utter
such sounds this side of the infernal regions!"
and the cabin is astir in an instant,-only to
laugh at me, because the unearthly sounds are
only those of a party of wolves taking a survey of the city at midnight.
Dec. 5th. -Mother of mine, I can hardly
settle down to the details of our own matters.
Everything over the town, and every rumor
borne in to us from outside of it, is more and
more dark and fearful. We now have an
armed force of five hundred men, who are
under the command of Dr. Robinson, now
commander-in-chief, and Col. Lane, both of
whom have had experience in actual battle,
in Mexico and California. Out of my south
window I can see them drilling; far off it is,
on the prairie; but you know we have a wide
scope of observation. There is not a tree anywhere to be seen; and, as I look, the expected
Indian tribe rides in, single file, at full gallop.
120 
IN KANSAS.
How well they ride! It is difficult to imagine them man and horse. They seem to be
one, so closely does each rider cling to the
well-trained animal he loves so well and passes
so much of his life with.
The sun is just putting on his night-cap,
and smiles back on the terraced hills ere he
sinks to rest. Now the militia march back into
the little town which they have come to defend.
Alice is asleep; Ned busy at the door. I put
on my hood and slip across to a nearer point,
that I may see better. It is the first time out
doors since she sickened; or rather, since I
went to see William Dillon. I enter the little
hotel where Dillon died. The landlady takes
me by both hands, with a pocket-full of questions, drawn out one after another in quick
succession, giving me no time to answer. Her
gentle heart is fluttered with fear and kindness, too! She does not want anybody hurt,
and she does not want her house torn down
over her head. She believes, still holding my
hands, I can settle the matter for her; which
is in a measure done by pleasant jokes, a
hearty laugh at her fears (hypocrite that I
am, holding at the same moment my own
11
121 
SIX MONTHS
troubled and faint heart,) and, last of all, by
reference to the better guidance which does
not forget or forsake us in the hour of need,
but, if trusted, keeps us in the hollow of His
hand, and guides us with His eye. We draw
close to the window as the soldiers pass by to
the tune played long, long ago by the military
band in our native village, far off from this;
but not farther than this woman who writes
to you is from the little girl who used to hang
out of her bed-room window and listen to the
march, believing it the finest music in the
world.-Mother, how fast I am catching up to
you! almost as old now-don't you see? We
will live together when we are old, won't we?
But what a long line of men it is! Not noisy;
and there is no rabble of boys at the roadsides.
Boys there are in the ranks; but the soberness
of manhood is upon them, and the determination of "Seventy-six" in their step.  The
blood warms in my veins as I look. The commander and his aids (one of whom is Grove
L, as brave and noble a heart as ever
strode a horse for battle) look well.   And
now,-yes, it can be no other,-passes the
prophet-head and flowing beard.  I accept it
122 
IN KANSAS.
as a good omen, slip out of the door in the
side of the "wen," and am at home in a moment.           is close upon  my path, with
another officer, by the name of Deitzler.
C      is sitting with Alice; Ned is cutting up
a pumpkin for the cow's supper. But my
presence scares them all up, with the remark,
"Shall we have any supper?"  "To be sure
you shall have some supper, in fifteen minutes." My teakettle is in my hand as I speak,
and filled and placed in the stove before I
take off my hood, a pan of biscuits thrust into
the oven as I unpin it, and, when it is laid aside
with my shawl, I uncover my wash-boiler, and
draw up from its capacious depths a piece of
corned beef.  This is cut thin, and a plate of
butter and a sheet of gingerbread are brought
out, and your cups are spread out on the
black-walnut board. The teapot is steaming
on the top of the stove, and a pot of cocoa.
My fifteen minutes are not out; but the family are ready and the officers in haste. There
is to be a council of war at seven o'clock; and
they say every token indicates action.
Teams coming up from Kansas City to-day,
loaded with freight for our merchants, have
123 
SIX MONTHS
been stopped by the mob tented near Franklin, and looked over; all bags of powder and
other ammunition taken out, receipted for,
and the teams allowed to go on; and teams of
provision-apples, flour, and potatoes, stopped
entirely. You see, mother, Lawrence is a very
forbearing fellow, not to go down to Franklin
and drive the brutes home about their business. But our people all say, we prepare for
a defensive war, not an aggressive one.
So, then, supper is over.  L       takes up
his constant companions, his belt with pistols
and his rifle; he lingers in the cabin-door for
a moment, comes back to say "good night;
everybody sleeps on their arms to-night in
the hall."
"Take your buffalo, then."
"Yes, thank you, good night. Sleep the
first part of the night; you may be called."
I shut the door.  C     is already nodding
in his chair. I rouse him, send him up to his
buffalo. Sleepy as he is, he does not forget to
say, "call me if there is a drum-roll. I want
to have a hand at the threshing of those rascals if they pounce upon us in the night."
124 
IN KANSAS.
"Ah, Uncle Jeff, you won't say your prayers,
I fear. You were cut out for a cruel soldier."
Uncle Jeff mounts up the wall-slats, saying,
"I've written to my mother, that I can't say
them, and she must keep saying them for
me!" Little Daisy is slipping herself out of
her shoes and stockings; saying, she is "so
tired, so very tired; can she ever ride all the
way to St. Louis? and will I make a calico
bag for her cakes, so that they will not soil
her carpetbag? and how soon do I think
Uncle Jeff's brother will be back to go home
with her? If she could only get there before
Christmas!"-"Before Christmas!"  0, where
will this persecuted people be before Christ
mas! Daisy does not know the creeping
chill coming over me. She did not hear my
question. She is fast asleep. Everybody is
asleep. It is a long time since I undressed
really. My dressing-gown bears me company
nights, now, instead of days; because I like
to be ready. Lucky that I am to-night. The
door opens, and I open my eyes from my final
nap.  It is L-'s cheerful voice, asking me
as he strikes a light, to help him off on a very
dangerous express-ride, to present a letter to
11*
125 
SIX MONTHS
Governor Shannon, at Westport. I am up in
a moment.  I        looks sober, and as though
the weight of years had rolled over him in
one week. But he speaks up brightly, showing his fine teeth, which of themselves are a
snile. I put him up a big paper of luncheon,
for he is to pass into the heart of the enemy's
country, who would see him die before they
would give him a crumb of bread or a drop
even of "cold water." He tells me of the
council of war; how nobly all the wise and
great men of the Territory had assembled;
and how firmly they stood by each other.
The first step to be taken, was, to address a
letter of inquiries to Governor Shannon, to
know why these tents of armed men were
infesting our borders, committing depredations
upon our people and harassing travellers who
were going about their business; and reques
ing him to order their removal.  The commander-in-chief appointed         to be the
bearer of this despatch; and Babcock, the
post-master, goes with him, probably with
other despatches.
It is nearly twelve; a cloudy, lowering
night, with gusts of chilly wind sweeping over
126
4. 
IN KANSAS.
the country. Our outposts bring in word
that our enemies are in a drunken row at
Franklin.  L       must go past them.  He
knows their password; but it is a dangerous
trip. Perhaps no better person could have
been chosen. But he seems like my own boy,
and my selfishness wishes they had chosen
some one I did not know. I have this satisfaction, he will do himself honor wherever he
goes and whatever is the result. I give him
my blessiny; while he says, quite in short-hand,
"You will write to them all, if I do not return." I promise, and he passes out into the
starless, moaning night.
Every one in the cabin has slept through it
all; but my eyes are set open for the rest of
the night.  I hear the mounted guard ride
round our cabin, with slow steps, as though
they did not wish to wake the inmates. I
listen as they advance out into the now
dreary country. I hear distant fire-arms, and
then more near. I know, now, that Missouri.
ans are just mean and cowardly enough to
creep in upon us in the night; or to fire, as
they have done, upon our watch, riding off as
soon as they have done it. I wish Frank
127 
SIX MONTHS IN KANSAS.
Pierce had to stand on an open prairie and
take his chance with better men. But that is
not a good spirit to go to sleep on - so I dismiss it. I will close this, as there is a chance
to send by express.
Yours devotedly,
128
H. A. R. 
MURDER OF BARBOUR.-TTHE TRUCE.
DECEMFER, 1855.
DEAR MoTnR OF MINE,-I yesterday closed
a long package for you, sending it by private
conveyance. But I should now feel as much
lost without a letter begun to you, as I should
be without knitting-work; and, as I invariably weave the stitches of a new stocking
prospectively upon the needles from which
one has just been completed, so I now turn
to the table where are the papers, from which
I have withdrawn all addressed to you, with
the feeling that I must begin another stocking upon paper-gathering up the stitches of
our cabin-life, and weaving them info a garment which I am quite sure will be warmly
welcomed by you.
It is hardly twenty-four hours since Lstarted on his perilous mission. But I cannot
refrain from looking out occasionally for him.
What absurd things we are always doing!
He has gone fifty miles; has no chance of
(129) 
SIX MONTHS
changing horse; not a very good road; several deep ravines to pass, difficult to cross; and
a dark night to go over them. Two days certainly he must be absent, even if he escape
the shots of the enemy; or, what is almost as
much to be dreaded, being taken prisoner.
Inside the cabin, everything remains as when
I last wrote. Daisy gains strength slowly;
walks like one upon stilts, tipping now this
way, and now that. I have cut a pile of
shirts for the boy; and, as I measure the dimensions, it dawns upon me, that he will not
always be "the boy,";' for the size has much
increased since the last were made.
Outside the cabin stands the pretty cow,
Jennie, waiting for the ears of corn she knows
very well she can coax from me when occasion calls me to the door.  Meanwhile, she
tugs slily at the bag, hoping to secure a morsel
at once. Snuggled close by her is her sixmonths-old calf, for whom she seems to have
more affection than other cows; or perhaps it
may be because I never took so much notice
of the relation between a cow and calf before.
In this unfenced country, the only way to decoy a cow home, is, to tie the calf near the
130 
IN KANSAS.
cabin. Our Jennie would have given up the
hope of corn or pumpkin, sooner than the
pleasure of coming to her baby. The haystack has still its party of hungry horses,
diminishing its size at a frightfully rapid rate.
And what is poor Jennie to do when winter
sets in? I will not worry about any future.
How can I, when I look over to the little
town, blockading itself with forts and breast
works in every direction. How the men ply
their shovels, working by turns of fifties, all
day and all night! Around each fort, now the
evening has come, are cords of blazing wood,
to light them at their labor of defence; and
over Fort Lane flutters a banner of stars and
stripes, as an encouragement, as well as a protection. Alas, for the little town! How long
could it stand against the power of a strong
State, bearing-down against it?
What a piece of news I have just heard!
General Pomeroy taken prisoner, and in the
camp below Franklin! He was here yesterday
afternoon-said he was assailed at Westport,
but frightened away his pursuers by pointing
his pistol at them; and, when still nearer this
place, forded the river three times to escape
131 
SIX MONTHS
another band of ruffians. He seemed very
tired, anxious, and uncertain for a time what
course to pursue. He thought it very important for some one to go east for assistance. No
one offered to go; and early in the afternoon
he started off on this eastern enterprise, taking
quite another route from that which passes
the Missourian camps, and is usually travelled,
as being the most direct to Kansas City. He
crossed the Kansas river from the foot of Massachusetts street, landing in the Delaware
country, intending to go down the course of
the river on that side. But we have some
Missourians living in this town who act as spies;
and the General had gone but a short distance
before he was captured. So much Typhoid
has communicated; adding, that rumor said
he was murdered. But I do not believe a
word of that part. The idea of lynching a
man so wide-awake and strong as he is, with
his mild, clear eyes, his brown, good-humored
face, reminding me always (I hope it won't
look disrespectful to you, I'm quite sure it does
not seem so to me) of the unreddened jams of
the old, time-honored fire-places, such as were,
in the time of wood, before coal was hoisted
132 
IN KANSAS.
up into stoves for heating family rooms. No,
I'm not going to believe but that I shall take
him by the hand again in this world.
Today has been as warm and pleasant as
summer. The door stands open; cabin housekeeping has had a thorough overhauling; the
broom has thrust itself into every chink and
corner, most unceremoniously; pies are baking in the oven; and loaves of bread, just
drawn from it, stand bottom up upon the
board covering the flour-barrel. The "New
York Journal of Commerce" performs the
office of screening them from the dustbroom.
Mr.,       who has been away up the Territory,
comes in upon me just as I have not finished;
the litter being marshalled in the doorway,
where he must step over it. I am so glad to
see him! he has been so kind a friend. He
comes to say, he is going home to Philadelphia
at once. Does not look well, and fears sickness. He will return in the spring, with his
wife. The tea-kettle sings upon the stove
while we talk. I have smuggled the tea-pot,
with fresh tea, and a portion of that noisy,
singing tea-kettle, applied inwardly, alongside
of it; coals are drawn out, the haunch of veni             12
133 
SIX MONTHS
son lifted down from the wall, slices broiled
quickly, laid upon a hot plate, and placed
before my pale, tired-looking friend, before
he is aware of it. The tender meat and tea
refresh him. We part at the door, he to go
to his home, I to busy myself with the unsightly surface of things, underneath which home
has made a grave, from which there can be no
resurrection!
Well, here is the expected General, safe and
sound, from the enemy's camp, and from the
presence of Gov. Shannon! looking, indeed, as
though he might have ridden fifty miles in six
hours, and passed the intervening time of his
absence without rest or sleep. But he was
successful in his mission, the Governor promises
to be here to-morrow.
And now comes another sorrowful item of
intelligence. You know I wrote you about
the faithful guardsmen who watch our little
town while we sleep. Yesterday, one of them
who lives upon a claim about six miles distant,
mounted his horse, wholly unarmed, and
started towards his home, which he had not
visited for several days. Out over the wide
prairie he sped his way, to gladden the hearts
134 
IN KANSAS.
of his parents and dear wife; when he was
met by some five or six Missourians, who commanded him to go with them. He answered
that he was wholly unarmed, and on his route
home to see his family; and putting spurs to
his horse he kept on. Poor fellow! he little
understood the cruel, heartless, dishonorable
men with whom he had to deal. They aimed
at the defenceless and wholly unconscious
young man, and shot him in the back. He
fell instantly from his horse. The released
animal kept on his way, and trotted into the
door-yard of the murdered man's friends.
They, supposing he had got loose from his
fastening in town, did not suffer at all from
anxiety; but, fearing his gentle, timid wife,
whose tears had hardly ceased to flow during
the young soldier's absence, might put another
construction upon this event, wisely kept it
from her.*
* This statement I received from a lady with whom Mrs.
Barbour remained a few days after her husband's murder. I
have since learned, that two friends were near him when he
was shot; that they did not know the ball reached him, until
he had ridden some rods, when he uttered the cry, "My God!
I am a murdered man!" and immediately slid from his horse
to the ground; never spoke again, and breathed a few moments
only.
135 
SIX MONTHS
Young Barbour's body was brought into
town as soon as discovered, and laid away in
one of the rooms of the new hotel, stretched
out upon a seat, with his usual clothes upon
him.  He looked like one asleep; for the
wound, though bleeding most profusely, did
not disfigure him; it drew the color from his
cheeks, that was all. His look of repose was
even beautiful. Hie died, performing his duty.
The wife seemed wholly conscious that he
was murdered, all the morning before the news
was conveyed to his friends, though she lives
six miles or more from here. How to bring
her in with safety, was a matter of considerable
importance, as enemies on horseback were supposed to be out in every direction. As the
safest expedient, her husband's brothers, I
think; dressed up in female apparel and accompanied her-women being allowed to pass
without much question. It is quite impossible
to describe the agony of this wife. She is a
delicate, slight-built person, wholly devoted to
this man; in fact, it seems to have been a perfect idolatry. Having no children, she centered her all of happiness upon him. The soldiers, who were witnesses to her distress,
136 
IN KANSAS.
mingled their tears with her shrieks, while
their blood stirred, naturally enough, for vengeance upon the murderers.
Gov. Shannon rides across the prairie with
his suite and an escort sent out by Gen. Robinson. He occupies the back seat of a somewhat
venerable-looking, two-horse buggy; and with
the fine-looking horsemen in front and rear,
makes a very respectable appearance. The
upper chambers of the hotel are used as headquarters of our Kansas new-made officers.
The windows are open; Gen. Robinson is preparing the somewhat restless body of soldiery,
occupying the ground in front of the hotel,
for the reception of Gov. Shannon. He points
to the moving cavalcade in the distance, and
says, it is in the hope of a speedy settlement,
without more bloodshed, that this interview is
proposed. It is not palatable to these men;
for there is but a wall between them and their
sleeping, murdered comrade. But they honor
Gen. Robinson, and he curbs their justly indignant blood, by the power of his own magnanimity. The cavalcade passes through the
opening crowd, to the hall of the hotel. Gen.
Robinson comes down to the open door, to
12'
137 
SIX MONTHS
receive the Governor, and together they pass
through the rudely-finished hall, by the murdered man, up the staircase, into a temporary
council-chamber.  In another chamber, a few
rods distant, sits the new-made widow, weeping
unconsciously; refusing food with such gentle
violence as makes one feel as though they
must gather her into their arms, and hush her
to a sleep of total forgetfulness; for the multitude and noise without, added to her utter
desolation within, have quite bewildered her.
Again the crowd open for the men of power
to pass out. There is a call for cheers for Gov.
Shannon. The cheering is more like a muffled
drum, or the toll of bells, than a spontaneous
outburst from a satisfied people.
Saturday is this eventful day.  When will
Saturday be the door-keeper of a Sabbath to
us?  Shall the Sabbath never immigrate? and
the Commandments too?
The Sabbath-sun has set, and we have gathered round our cabin-fire, preparatory to a
quiet evening of reading; when our good
Doctor and his wife come in to see us. They
are always welcome; but now they come, only
to entice me out to the hotel, where people
138 
IN KANSAS.
are to be introduced to the Governor, that he
may judge for himself what kind of settlers
Lawrence is honored with; and, for they have
a double object, to make some arrangements
for a peace party to be holden in that building
on Monday evening. My first reply was in
the negative. Public places are an aversion
to me. The book, here by the tallow candle,
on the quaint old table, is very much more to
my taste. I offered to bake any amount of
nicknacks for the party; but as for this introduction, what do I care for seeing a man for
whom I can not reasonably entertain any
respect.
No one could resist the quiet pleading of
our Doctor's wife. So, in half an hour, we
were all ushered into the council chamber of
the third story. The room was quite filled
with ladies. At the farther end stood Gov.
Shannon. When he shook hands with me,
he said, "What part of the country are you
from?"  I replied, somewhat proudly, "From
that proscribed State, Massachusetts."   He
drew a chair for me, and seated himself by
my side. He talked very well, rather too compromisingly.  Occasionally he turned his head
139 
SIX MONTHS
suddenly towards the window, reminding me
(I suppose it was wicked) of that class of persons of whom it is written, they "flee when
no man pursueth;" for it was evident he feared
something. At last he gave expression to his
thoughts and fears. A rumor had reached
him that the people at the Missourian camp
were so indignant towards him for coming up
to Lawrence, that they would make an attack
to-night, and lynch khin, as well as destroy the
town; he had, therefore, as a means of safety,
sanctioned the commissions of Gen. Robinson
and his staff, authorizing him to prepare for
defence.  I could not help replying, "You
should have come to live among your own
people, and then this trouble might never
have come upon us," at the same time assuring
him there was no man or woman here who
would not feel bound in honor to protect
him from every threatened danger. Indeed,
I felt at the moment as though I could shoulder a rifle or point a pistol in his defence, if
need be; not because of the man, but because
he was the invited guest of Lawrence.
Gov. Shannon is a tall, well-built person,
past fifty years of age, hair very gray and
140 
IN KANSAS.
stiff, coarse features, pleasant eyes, and a benevolent crown to his forehead. But, to speak
phrenologically, he has no firmness nor selfesteem; so that, when the baser portion of
his nature does not rule over his more kindly
and elevated powers, other people, no matter
of what party or principle, —just whom he
happens to be thrown in with,-sway him to
their purposes.   Like those  gutta percha
heads which the children used to have for
playthings, twisting their features into every
possible shape. Gov. Shannon has a set of
features, purposes, and actions which are but
the exponents of those who rule over him pro
tem.
Nowithstanding the night passed off without alarm, the Governor did not choose to remain to the party. HIe gave sanction to our
officers, and then turned his face towards the
twelve hundred men who were encamped
near Franklin, in order to command them to
disperse. General Robinson and others accompaniedcl him, having his promise that the
prisoners, among whom was General Pomeroy,
should be not only released, but placed beyond the reach of the mob. On their arrival,
141 
SIX MONTHS
General Robinson, with his usual magnanimity,
addressed the people, endeavoring to show
that much of this trouble had grown out of
misunderstanding and misrepresentation; that
the people on both sides, if they would but
take the trouble to see and become acquainted
with each other, would find a better state of
things existing. He closed his remarks with
an invitation for any who chose to take the
trouble, to come to "the party,"-a party of
peace and rejoicing that there was to be no
more blood-shed.
l'onday, 12 o'clock at night.- -All the morning
has been used up in various culinary preparations for the peace gathering.   There are
men here from every portion of the Territory;
and the army is not to be disbanded till this
offering of gratitude is over. L. came home
for his supper rather earlier than usual, bringing with him two gentlemen, one the Mr.
Jones who holds the office of sheriff under
Gov. Shannon; the name of the other gentleman I do not remember. It has not been as
often sounded in my ears as that of "Sheriff
Jones." Both, however, were welcome to our
142 
IN KANSAS.
cabin and to our stereotype supper of tea,
corn-cake, and venison broiled upon the hot
coals of black-walnut wood. As soon as serving was over, and my visitors were started off
to the party, the "cook" took off her apron,
slipped herself out of the warm folds of a
woollen sack,-answering in a measure instead of plastered walls, to keep off the cold,
-and, in less than half an hour, was introduced into the famous third-story councilchamber, now cheerfully lighted and agreeably
warmed. Ladies and gentlemen had already
begun to assemble; indeed, the whole building
seemed alive with the hum of human voices.
The illuminated windows sent forth a most unusual light across the night-shadows of the prairie. Sheriff Jones and his friend were in these
upper rooms, being introduced to the ladies.
They are both fine-looking men and of more
than ordinary good breeding. Gen. Robinson,
too, was showing them the attention they
deserved at his hand, as invited guests. The
General looked pale and more disturbed than
I thought possible for one of such remarkable
self-control and courage.   It seemed that
some of the hotel crowd were not ready
143 
SIX MONTHS
to give up the war spirit, and accept with
grace the peace-offering of social intercourse
offered by our great-hearted General to those
who had arrayed themselves so cruelly against
us. And, although Sheriff Jones was nothing
more nor less than an officer, acting under his
oath of office, he became an apple of discord,
because he was the only representative of
Missouri. I have to confess to a feeling of
mortification, that everybody could not at
once bridge over the rapid current sweeping
between these two contending parties, and let
"by-gones be by-gones." But perhaps this
feeling came to the surface because I had not
entered into the atmosphere of bloodshed, and
had not made the creation of awful "cartridges" the occupation of my leisure hours.
Col. Lane's voice could be heard in different
rooms, detailing to eager listeners the most painful circumstances of poor Barbour's death, and,
with wonderful ingeniousness, keeping up the
wicked spirit of vengeance among those over
whom he exercised any power. What on
earth he was driving at by such a course, it
seemed to my stupid self quite impossible to
understand; while, at the same time, I knew
144 
IN KANSAS.
very well that he aimed at something he could
not otherwise attain so well. Any reader of
human faces can never study his without a sensation very much like that with which one
stands at the edge of a slimy, sedgy, uncertain
morass. If there is any good in him, I never,
with all my industry in culling something
pleasant from the most unpropitious characters, have been able to make the discovery.
And he has not, in lieu of anything better,
that agreeable fascination of manner which so
often gives currency in society to men as hollow-hearted as he. Gen. Robinson stood like
an aggrieved king. He not only stemmed
the tide, but rolled back the surging emotions
of the crowd; and the meeting closed much
more like a gathering of peace than at one
time seemed likely. I should like very much
to have you see Gen. Robinson. He is honest
in expression, simple and unaffected in manner, and brave as a lion. I have somewhere
seen a fine engraving of John Knox, standing with uplifted finger and solemn, earnest
rebuke in his countenance, in the presence of
Queen Mary. The head, profile, and general
13
145 
SIX MONTHS
outline of figure are very much that of Gen.
Robinson.
I believe I have forgotten to tell you that
the funeral of Mr. Barbour was deferred, on
account of the important business this week
to be attended to. Another week has closed,
and the Sabbath calls all people out to pay
the last tribute of respect to poor Barbour's
memory. A December day, but clear, cloudless, dreadfully bright, and windy. The mud
is deep as one's boots; goes up over rubbers
without any apparent doubts as to the propriety of such an innovation. Yet, the whole,
neighborhood seems astir with people, picking
their way to one centre -the hotel, where
not as last Monday evening, for rejoicing, they
come together; but to mourn with the sufferers of a great sorrow: a widow, made so
by violence wholly unprovoked; brothers, bereaved in a manner never to be forgotten -
never to be thought of in years to come but
with the smartest twinges of pain. The room
we enter is a long dining-hall. The walls are
of limestone, rough and unplastered. Seats
of plank stretch in rows, closely packed,
through the whole length, with the exception
146 
IN KANSAS.
of a narrow space for the clergyman.  The
seats are al filled. The atmosphere of the
assembly is of the truest sympathy. Each
soul seems personally aggrieved and afflicted.
Silence is the only, and most emphatic, expression given to this grief. The first break upon
that silence is the tread of many feet and a
smothered, broken sob, that will not be wholly
choked down. Working his way through the
crowd, appears a tall man, with white hair,
large blue eyes, and a very benevolent countenance. You see at once that he is a Methodist. He has clinging to his arm a small,
veiled figure,- everybody knows'tis the
widow; "a widow indeed."
There comes another smothered sob as she
is borne along to the far end of the hall.
The man of white hair stoops over her tenderly and whispers words of peace to her. I
do not hear them; she does not. Now she
sinks into a seat. A hymn is read, and the
crowd sing the tune of" Martin Luther'," so familiar to everybody, and stretching back over
the whole length of oldest life present. What
a relief it is! how it gathers up and rolls
away the pent-up emotions of the multitude!
147 
SIX MONTHS.
Now the white-head sinks down over bended
knees, to the floor, and his voice utters its
prayers and supplications, while the tears
course down the cheeks of the speaker and
his audience. The sobs of that broken heart
grow fainter. Does she find a relief through
the channel of other hearts? I believe so.
Then follow short speeches from Col. Lane
and Gen. Robinson, and a sad sermon from the
white-head. All the exercises are remarkably
good of the kind. Even Col. Lane did well.
The services are over, and the people form a
procession. Men with arms reversed take the
lead; then the body and its friends; then
the whole crowd, mounted in carts drawn by
oxen, wagons led by mules, and carriages of
every pattern, form into a solemn line stretching far along the open country. Up over
Mount Pleasant curves the road to the ground
appropriated for a burial place, two miles
away. What a sight it is! One like it could
hardly be got up anywhere else, or under any
other circumstances. This grand old country,
venerable with its lofty trees, its smoothly
terraced hills, its serene repose,-where the
moccasin only has trod as at home, and crept
148 
IN KANSAS.
away in by-places to take the sleep of death!
The tread of the white man is fresh and new;
but to-day the grand old prairie witnesses the
burial of its second martyr! Now the soldiers
make a wall on either side, with lifted hats,
for the mourners to pass through. Gently
the coffin is lowered to its last rest, while the
words, "Dust to dust," "I am the Resurrection
and the Life'," are broken by the wailing wind,
and lost to the ears of the audience by the
fastcoming  sobs of that  forlorn, childless,
earth-stricken widow! The soldiers now approach; the audience and friends fall back,
giving place to them; while, standing about
the grave, at the signal of their commander,
"Uncle Jeff," one division after another bury
the contents of their rifles in the last restingplace of their much-loved and honored comrade.
Wednesday.- The people from different portions of the Territory have departed from
Lawrence, and we fall back again into the
usual routine of a new settlement. In the
early part of the month almost everybody
was busy, trying to make their places of
183
149 
SIX MONTHS
abode more suitable for the coming winter.
When destruction threatened the town, of
course all personal thrift and comfort were
lost sight of in the general danger.   Now
winter seems to hurry in upon us with unusual severity; and so great has been the tax
upon the strength of us all for the last three
weeks of sleepless anxiety, that all effort, just
now, seems quite impossible.
I cannot rid myself of the impression, that
more danger lies ahead. I do not forget the
long distance stretching between us and our
friends; the frozen rivers, cutting off the
usual means of intercourse; and the falling
snow, making our way trackless in any direction. North, south, or west, there can be seen
no help for us in an emergency. Our eyes
overleap all points but the East; and, alas!
between us and our East, there looms up a
fearful Ogre, in the shape of the State of Missouri! Perhaps a class of immigrants of so
high an order in cultivation, natural ability, or
energetic foresight and calculation, never before planted themselves as the nucleus of a
new State, as are these exiles from home in
Kansas.  Ultraism, naturally or by education,
150 
IN KANSAS.
is not the order of mind prevailing among
them. Old and early habits of conservative
obedience to the " powers that be "-the laws
under which they grew up and founld both
liberty and protection- still cling to them;
and it would be strange if the experience of
the past few weeks did not make these habits
more clear and honored than ever before.
The man who by his acts destroys our faith
in him, robs us of an inheritance wider than
the circumference of any one man, be he ever
so great, because he undermines the foundation of our trust in others.
How we, at the North, have always believed
implicitly in the chivalry of the South, and
the wide-hearted generosity of the West. It
is not till we arrive in Kansas, away from
everything dear and familiar, away from all
the ordinary comforts of older countries, that
the truth really dawns upon us. Mother,
there is no indignity to be mentioned which
has not been heaped upon us. By it I feel
myself robbed of a large estate-my faith in
human nature. I cannot understand at all
the ground of our offence. If we are poor,
should not that be a reason-why our neigh
151
O 
SIX MONTHS IN KANSAS.
bors' sympathy and cordial aid should be
poured in upon us? Why don't they call
and see these poor, benighted "Yankees;"
and out of their abundance, give us help?
Surely this vast region furnishes room for all!
Missouri is larger than New England, and
sparsely populated. I am not wise enough to
understand why, but it seems as though land
had been a bone of contention ever since the
earth was created.  Just now it is all a "muddle" to me; and as I do not know how to
moralize, or you care to hear me, I will subscribe myself,
Your most affectionate daughter,
H. A. R.
152
. 
WINTER EXPERIENCES AND OBSERVATIONS.
FEBRUARY, 1856.
MY DEAR MOTHERI, -You will feel anxious,
to have a whole month pass by without
even a word from us. It has, however,
been the fault of no one. Soon after closing
my last, sickness and the most freezing cold
weather entered hand-in-hand into the cabin.
Both were wholly unexpected guests, and
quite unprepared for. The cold never took
such a fearful grasp of this country before,
within the memory of Indian or missionary.
The cabins of new settlers, from necessity
poor at best, are made with the understanding that winters here are not severe. Think
of the thickness of a "shake" only, between
one and the cold measuring twenty degrees
below zero!
A sorry sort of experience the past month
has been to our little household; cheered
very often, it is true, by the great kindness
and constant attention of people about us;
(153) 
SIX MONTHS
yet, dreary in its details. A bed of "prairie
feathers" is not very comfortable at any time;
and warmth is not one of its inherent qualities, under any circumstances. Every twentyfour hours, almost, brought some accession to
the snow-drifts, and filled the atmosphere of
cabins with a most subtle, throat-cutting element, almost impossible to breathe. Large
cooking stoves, well heated, made but little
headway in a contest so unequal. The wood
was not always dry; and to keep it in a decent state for the fire, it was piled up in the
cabin, out of the full force of the oft-recurring snow storms.   Late  in  the  autumn,
L      had gone up into the territory on important business, and been obliged to camp
out without the usual preparation travellers
make when it is their intention to sleep under
the stars. HIe and his companion lost their
way. They had but two matches left, and
expended a good deal of unavailing effort
before they succeeded in finding anything dry
enough to kindle a fire with. The wind took
possession of the first match as soon as it ignited. You can better imagine than I describe
the state of two wanderers, totally at a loss
154 
IN KANSAS.
how to "define their position," in the darkness of a November night, many miles from
any habitation, on a prairie unmarked by any
lines of travelled roads, and a storm lowering
over their heads! One match left! With the
greatest care, not unmingled with proportional fear as to results, it was lighted. Some
good angel must have spread its wings of safe
protection between the tiny flame, and the
winds which monopolize every point of compass, for the fire was lighted. Heaps of wood
were piled up, the wagon drawn near enough
to shelter the heads of the two young men;
the horses sheltered by the "timber," corn
given them, and a portion roasted in the fire
for the supper of our travellers. With their
feet towards the fire and heads under the
wagon, they went to sleep, and did not wake
till the fire was out by the intrusion of rain
and snow, and their persons were crusted over
entirely by the frozen mixture.   Daylight
was worth more than anything else, and that
was now about them. With the hope and
elasticity belonging not only to the young,
but almost inherent in the wild freedom of
western life, the horses were harnessed and a
155 
SIX MONTHS
point taken, to reach if possible some place
of shelter and refreshment. At ten o'clock a
cabin appeared under the shelter of a wild
and most picturesque bluff; and our guests
were most cordially welcomed by its only
inhabitant, a German immigrant.
LI      has often told me, since, that he
never experienced so great a surprise. The
welcome he expected, because there are no
more hospitable people than the far-off, wideapart "squatters" on Uncle Sam's farm.  This
German, however, fed them with venison,
rubbed down the almost perishing horses, and
then gave his guests an intellectual treat of
the rarest kind. His mind seemed full of the
finest specimens of culture, and his enthusiasm over Nature's wild beauty in this western
world, seemed almost boundless.  I         and
his companion felt quite ill-used and frozen,
through the evening; but the compensation
of the morning, and indeed the whole day
and night, through which they remained as
guests to the kind German, was more than
an equivalent for all they suffered.
When the cold days of Christmas pressed
down upon us, we felt as though we were to
156 
IN KANSAS.
go through another edition of L.'s experience
on the prairie. Our spirits held out very
remarkably. Things did not look any worse
than they really were-which, to be sure,
were bad enough. Sickness pressed heavily
upon me; but the fever made me quite insensible to the danger from the cold air, until, like
poor "Joe," I began to heave hard for my
breath, like one laboring with an oar. Now
that it is past, there come to my mind distinct
pictures, vivid, and most touching, of that
period. A group of three, snuggled close
round the stove, vainly endeavoring to get
warm, leaving it in haste to get more wood,
to place a hot brick about my person, or to
break the ice for me to drink. For some time
I refused to have any watcher, it seemed too
cold for any one to stay out of bed. Alice
was placed under cover very early in the
evening. Water was all I craved, and it would
freeze solid before midnight. Edward tried
the experiment of boiling some, filling a mug
with it, and placing the mug in a tin pail, covered tight. This answered very well awhile;
but at last the mug froze down in the pail, so
that it could not be got out without being set
14
157 
SIX MONTHS
on the stove. At this time E. seemed quite
tired out with care and anxiety. One night
he went to bed early, leaving a great fire. It
was about nine when I took uip my tumbler
to drink-it was frozen solid. In a moment
the door opened for Mr. W.; my sight was
very dim and he looked a long way off, and
the bed seemed to have been moved back into
another room. I tried to speak; but could
not make a sound. I beckoned to him; for I
did not realize that the fault was mine that
he seemed so far away.  He saw my movement, came to give me the tumbler, saw that
it was full of ice, and went to the pail, which
was in the same condition. He replenished
the fire, took up the pail and vanished. The
air was fill of a driving snow-storm; and it
was a long way to the spring; but very soon
the pail and man returned into the cabin. I
had not only a "cup of cold water," but a dish
of nice cocoa, brought as soon as it could be
made. L. came in, in a few moments, and
remained the rest of the night. He says it
was the only time in his life when he thought
he was in danger of freezing; and that, with
the largest fire he could build, the water for
me to drink froze upon the stove-hearth!
158 
IN KANSAS.
Towards night the next day, I was roused
from a stupid sleep by the entrance, first, of
a fair and delicate-looking woman, then the
Dr., L., Mr. W., and several others. The lady
announced to me that I was to be moved immediately, and proceeded at once to tuck the
clothes closely about the narrow bed, and to
spread a woollen shawl over my head; the
gentlemen then raised me up, bed and all,
bore me out the door, and placed me in a cart
as gently as a mother could have laid away a
babe. The company mounted in about me,
holding a buffalo-skin over the bed. The ride
was not at all painful to me, and I did not feel
the cold in the least.
The famous hotel, which has quite a history
of its own, notwithstanding its youth, was soon
reached. It stands up quite high from the
ground; had no steps yet made; and to enter,
an inclined plane of boards rested upon the
sill and the ground. The stairs, too, in the
hall, as yet existed only in the mind of the
master-builder. The space they were to occupy was covered with narrow strips of board;
and as one flight rose over the other, from the
cellar up four stories, it was enough to malie
159 
SIX MONTHS
any head dizzy to take themselves up, without
the weight of a bed and sick person.
Now that I am well, I cannot but consider
it a remarkable feat that all these uncertain
steps were taken without injury to any one.
My head was not uncovered till the door of
L.'s office had shut me in, and the bed settled
down by the side of a wall, covered with law
books, the odor from which awakened most
pleasant remembrances of home. Those who
have had the sensation of a heavy plank bound
over the lungs, can understand how great the
relief was to breathe the warm air of this comparatively warm and finished room. It was
a long and narrow place, with one window
looking to the south; walls on two sides, of
cemented lime-stone, very rough, with occasional chinks through which the sky was visible. The other sides were thin partitions,
dividing it on one side from the "councilchamber," and on the other from the powdermagazine! Still farther along the hall, Mr.
W. had secured a room for himself. At night
a mattress was drawn by my bed-side, and
there L. and E., alternately tending the fire
and nursing me, passed the time till morning.
160 
IN KANSAS.
On the other side, close to me, was drawn
another lounge, where, in the unbroken sleep
of childhood, little Alice securely rested.
About this room there has always seemed the
atmosphere of the utmost peace and security;
and hereafter, in years to come, these young
people will, I think, forget all that it was at
the time so hard to bear, and remember it as
one of the periods of safe-keeping, and active
mental growth.
Meanwhile the snow and cold seem to keep
time with each other. The hum of voices in
the council chamber is increased by numbers.
Matters of importance are before its members.
We are startled often by the report of firearms.
There is a stone building nearly opposite, in
one part of which is a tailor's shop. Living
somewhere in this settlement is a creature,
half man, half brute, who sometimes allows
the one nature to rule him, and sometimes the
other-a noisy, uproarious bully, when warmed up with whiskey, called  Buckskin."  Some
real or imaginary cause of offence has sprung
up between him and this tailor, opposite. The
brute-nature has rule over Buckskin to-night;
14*
161 
SIX MONTHS
his grievance, whatever it may be, is athirst
for vengeance. Loud and awfully profane
talking peals forth from his mouth at this
puny strip of a tailor, who shuts and bolts his
door for safety, putting out the light within.
Buckskin fires through the door and window,
shot after shot. We are in great anxiety, expecting to hear of the tailor's murder. Quite
a mob have collected in the street. What a
strange sight this would be in Boston! and
how quickly the strong hand of a Boston
policeman would lead away the aggressor, and
disperse the gathering multitude! Late into
the night the sounds die out; even Buckskin
must have sleep.
Sheriff Jones has had quite a novel finale to
an arrest. The wife of the arrested man
should have been born on the other side of
the Atlantic; and would have made a fitting
mate to some modern Robin Hood. In the
first place, she hid the Sheriff's dragoon coat,
which in itself was very valuable as well as a
necessary appendage this cold weather. After
her husband was placed in the carriage for
removal, she drew a loaded pistol from her
person, pointed it at Sheriff Jones, and declared
162 
IN KANSAS.
she would fire if he did not release her husband. As there seemed no possible doubt of
her sincerity, and as the gentleman could not
avenge himself upon a woman, he released the
man-expressing the opinion, that he should
rather face an army of men than one furious
woman. More recently, that same woman
went into a yard of horses kept to let, and
demanded one, over which she had some real
or imaginary right, presenting at the same
time her pistol at the hostler. The shock to
his sensibility was so great, that he suffered
her to mount the horse and ride off without
molestation. This reminds me of another
"strong-minded woman."  When at the peace
party, the Doctor called my attention to a
woman, sitting very straight in a chair, quite
near an illuminated window, by the light of
which she was reading a newspaper. Her
eyes were very black; her face not only determined, but somewhat brazen. The Doctor
amused himself, as well as me, by detailing
some of her freaks during our troubles. In
one instance, when her cabin was visited by
the enemies, she passed herself off as a Missourian, and, through the statement of her
163 
SIX MONTHS
defenceless position, gained from them two
rifles! On another occasion, when going home
from Lawrence, the distance from which is
about six miles, she rode her owvn horse and
led that of her husband, who, being one of
the soldiers, could not return with her. After
riding about half way home, she saw a man
hastening after her; and, when within speaking distance, he demanded the extra horse.
She replied, "Take it if you can," and put her
pony into a fast trot. Stimulated both by the
ride and her nearer approach to her home,
she, when at a good distance, reined in her
horse and laughed at him for not taking what
he wished. The pursuer got very angry; he
was drunk before; he drew his pistol but had
not steadiness of nerve to hold it, and it slipped
from him to the ground. Fearing, half drunk
as he was, to dismount, he started on to secure
the horse, uttering oath after oath. My lady's
spirit was now up, she did not fear a drunken
man on horseback, so she made a wide circuit,
bringing herself back to where the pistol lay;
it was but the work of a moment for her to
jump to the ground, secure the prize, spring
upon the horse, and gallop home.
164 
IN KANSAS.
The quiet of the hotel, hitherto broken only
by the click of the workmen's hammers, or
the hurried step of its few inmates, has suddenly changed. There are armed men quartered again in the rooms directly beneath us.
Steps of many people press along the entries
to the "council-chamber."   Soberness settles
over the faces which have borne so lightly
and bravely the vexatious inconveniences of
a first winter in a new country. Dame Rumor has issued her bulletin, that our little
town is to be burned, and women and children must be removed or share the massacre
of men.
The forts have miserable shanties erected
in them for the soldiers stationed in each.
The cold increases. Officers sleep upon the
floor of the council-chamber. Over our heads,
upon the flat roof of the hotel, we hear the
steady, measured tread of a sentinel. The
sound is crisp and cold, with the deep snow
still increasing, driven furiously by the wind.
Each soldier at the different quarters takes his
hour's tramping watch. There is over all a
fearful sense of forsaken  helplessness.  It
seems almost as though heaven and earth had
165 
SIX MONTHS
forsaken us. Our officers, however, are strong
and brave men; they stand like a wall of fire
between us and danger. But how few of them
in numbers! Who among you whom we left
at home can ever reckon up the wear and tear
that these men are passing through? The
half-sleeping posture upon the floor or a rude
bench; the family, left at home without its
rightful protection; and the constant, reliable
impression that attack is inevitable, and that
no sufficient force is ready to meet it.
Almost every day brings some few fresh
hands and true hearts into the town. Very
often our door is opened by mistake, and men
rush close to the fire, regardless of everything
but to warm themselves. I amuse myself
scrutinizing their various wrappings, - an odd
mixture of Indian gay blankets, leggins, and
moccasins, with the remnants of a former civilization in the shape of gloves, caps, and
coats. Stupid people, we have none. The
hard attrition of border life, and the granite
roughness of every circumstance surrounding
us, brings to the surface every available element of human capability. I can readily
imagine how, unsanctified with a righteous
166 
IN KANSAS.
cause, this surface-power may become cruel
and vindictive.
Now, to the tramp of the watchmen overhead is added the more distant tread of a
wide-awake sentinel in the long hall, upon the
first floor. Early in the morning the soldiers
are astir. Their cook regales us by the pleasant flavor of his coffee and broiled beef, to say
nothing of corn-mush and hot biscuit. Like
all invalids, for want of other employment, I
trace his march through breakfast, the orders
for more water, for towels to wipe the dishes
with, intermingled with the clatter of cups
and saucers, snatches of pleasant songs, uproarious laughter, and jokes quite unintelligible to us up above; though we cannot resist
the magnetic influence to join the laugh.
Then there is a sudden rush at the material
for dinner. No joke, this, in a freezing day
-to cook for a company of soldiers, and the
days so short. Sometimes the meat burns
with the hurry, or the mush binds itself to the
bottom of the kettle, or the water boils out
from the potatoes. Every housekeeper knows
how very unpleasant the odor ascending from
such a culinary failure is.
167 
SIX MONTHS
This settled routine is at length broken in
upon, at nidniqht, by the arrival of a courier
from Fort Leavenworth. The council are
awakened to hear the news of another murder at Easton, where an election was held; and
a request for assistance in the Shape of armed
men.
There is no more sleep in the hotel. Men
are selected to start out immediately as far as
the house of Sicoxie, a friendly Delaware
Indian, and there remain for their orders from
Leavenworth. Three men are to keep on,
one of whom is L,  to get accurate information about the murder.
To-day, Captain Dicky, of Topeka, follows
their march, with quite a company. The distance is about thirty miles, I believe, through
an unbroken road, a wild Indian country.
Captain Brown lived but a few hours after
his wounds were inflicted. He was taken prisoner by men from Platte county, and confined
in a room, to be hung the next morning; but,
so greedy were his captors for his blood, that,
before he was really led out of the entrance
to his prison, hatchets were raised above his
head and bowie-knives thrust into his body.
168 
IN KANSAS.
He fell most barbarously wounded. At his
earnest request, he was placed in a wagon and
taken to his home, where, on his arrival, he
had time enough to bid farewell to his wife
and children.
Capt. Brown was born at the South; emigrated from Ohio to this Territory with his
family, and located near Fort Leavenworth.
In the autumn he came to Lawrence, and remained till our safety was no longer in jeopardy. In personal appearance he was quite a
marked man, even in a crowd. He was unusually tall, with a rich, brown complexion,
dark, abundant hair and beard, and eyes
large, dark, and sad in expression. I do not
think that any one who ever saw him will forget his personal appearance, and no dweller
in Kansas can ever forget the mark his cruel
death has made upon the pages of its early
history.
Capt. Dicky arrived on Saturday evening.
They came across the river at the foot of
Massachusetts street, and rode up in front of
this hotel, where they were received with loud
cheers. Certain military manceuvres, quite
unintelligible to my ignorant self, were per
15
169 
SIX MONTHS
formed, interspersed with cheers, speeches, and
other testimonials of rejoicing. It really was
a grand display. The moonlight, glittering
upon the snow; the fantastic, distorted
shadows of curious cabins, piles of lumber,
wood, and sleds of an entirely new pattern,
stretching out on every side; the immense,
rude, unfinished hotel, looming up behind the
smoking, tired horses, mounted with men
quite as originally dressed and as truly brave
as were the men of old revolutionary times!
After going through the (I suppose usual)
courtesies of military tactics on similar occasions, the company galloped, in single file, to
temporary places of shelter for their tired
horses; and soon after refreshed themselves
with a supper, prepared for them at a restaurant close by; then accepted the hospitality
of the hotel, wherein people are stowed away
for a night's rest, very much as trunks and
boxes are packed into a warehouse.
The distinctive lines between those who
live for themselves and those who live for
others, are never so clearly defined as in a
new, yet unpossessed country. I cannot give
you a faithful transcript of our own daily
170 
IN KANSAS.
experience, without telling something of the
kind acts of strangers, who prepare for us
nice delicacies in the shape of broiled birds,
prairie chickens, and rabbits, accompanied
with wheat-bread and ginger-cakes. Our box
in the corner, bearing upon its top our small
pattern of china and delf, rarely fails to sustain some nice little mess, carefully covered
with a napkin or newspaper to secure it alike
from the gaze of visitors, the dust of a dirty
room, and the cunning mice, who between
four and five o'clock descend from the upper
portion of the cemented walls, creeping out
from the smallest little crevices, and travelling
at the most rapid rate, to the floor below.
The little curious creatures have, as a race,
most inquiring minds. There is no space of
this room which they have not measured with
their rapid feet; and no secret hiding-place
they have not peered into. Harmless always,
except in taking a bite of everything eatable,
they make themselves perfectly at home. If
the room is still, they amuse me by their frolics upon the floor; and often they play "'possum," by rolling themselves up and dropping
from the stone wall down to the floor below.
171 
SIX MONTHS
Often, in the night, they make a short cut
across the bed's head, springing thence to the
books, scrambling among the papers, for a
night's entertainment. Woe be to any delicacy, if they get at it! We learn at home
to say, "still as mice";' but that saying grew
out of ignorance of this miniature race of
creatures. One should be deaf, to sleep well
where they are. Such dissipated night merry-makings as they have can hardly be recorded of any other race; and their grace of
motion is beautiful indeed.
There are a large proportion of remarkably
pretty women in Lawrence. Most of them
married, yet quite young; indeed, I consider
myself, for the first time in my life, quite venerable when compared with those about me.
Living in a "shake" cabin, close under my
window, is the fair little lady who helped me
into my present "quarters."   She  is from
Ohio. Her place of abode, with its one window towards me, its chimney of stove pipe,
its tiny tallow candle of an evening, is always
an object of interest; a cold little home it is.
Her feet have frozen this cold winter while
busy about her house-work. There was a
172 
IN KANSAS.
gathering moisture in her eye when she told
me; but the quiver about the mouth passed
into her usual smile of cheerful hopefulness,
and absorbed the tears before they fell. With
more than usual interest I have watched her
one room, the past week. She has taken in a
sick man, Major Robinson, of Tecumseh, who
for some time has been rather sick, at the
"Cincinnati House." That is no place for sick
people. This man has fallen into good hands;
but he is quite unconscious of those about
him. Sweet forgetfulness spreads a mantle
over his present, and memory takes him back
to other days, and to his early home. He
holds  long talks with his mother.  Almost his
last request is, "Mother, take off my shoes; my
feet are tired and swollen, I cannot travel any
iarther to-night." And so, in a state of pleasant      surroundings, a happy unconsciousness of
lis present condition, he passes into the other
life' where every want may be met, without
opposition. I know when his life ceases; for
the lady brings out the bed-clothes and
stretches them upon the line. My friend
from Paschal Fish's, formerly of Roxbury,
with another beautiful woman from Worces             156*
173 
SIX MONTHS
ter, step out with saddened faces, and walk
quickly away. Poor fellow! he had no relative near him at the close of his life, but
there are good, kind people everywhere; and
under their blessed ministry he passed away.
The body, once placed in its coffin, is brought
to this depot of all things, whether living or
dead.   This shelter is the last resort; the
place, too, for all assemblies, whether of business, pleasure, meetings for prayers, or, as in
this instance, services for the dead. Many
days passed before the honors due to this
brave young officer were attended to. The
accumulating snow and freezing cold were a
very tolerable excuse, yet not enough to satisfy those who had consciences. At last people assembled in respectable numbers; company A. trod the white, almost unbroken
snow, as escort, far out of town to the appropriate burial-ground.
E. goes up the river in company with several men every day, to haul down wood upon
the ice. They wrap up as warm as though
we had suddenly exchanged climates with
Labrador. People are very busy cutting ice
fiom the river; and, although our ears are
174 
IN KANSAS.
not enlivened with the merry jingle of bells,
we are very much amused at the numberless
new inventions in the shape of sleds and
sleighs that are each day coming into town.
The business portion of Lawrence has always
more or less of the Indian tribes within its
capacious street.   Delawares and Shawnees
mingle among our people very pleasantly, and
are not much to be distinguished from them
in dress this winter,-for our men resort to
buffalo or blanket, as the most comfortable
promenade dress. Other tribes of Indians,
living farther west and less civilized, leading
rather wandering lives, pitch their tents in the
"timber bottom-lands" not far distant, and
come hither for their food. I have amused
myself not a little, sitting by this window, so
high above the ground and overlooking every
building in sight, watching the movements of
these Indians. This afternoon is as cold as
possible, the snow dry and frozen stiff; some
wild-looking specimens have come up the
street, fastening their ponies to a pile of wood
near a grocery store. One of the squaws has
set down a tall red bag close beside the walls
of a cabin; presently she brings two bags of
175 
SIX MONTHS
flour round near her pony. She proceeds to
take off the saddle, produces a leather strap
from her pocket, ties a bag of flour to each
end of the strap, and balances them by means
of the strap thrown over pony's back. Now
the saddle is replaced and girted tightly on.
Pony is very patient, being evidenly well acquainted with his mistress' movements. There
are some small packages, too, which she fits
on some safe way, at least I hope so, for my
attention is suddenly arrested by the shrill
cry of a baby, and my eyes astonished by the
appearance of a pair of little hands and arms
thrust out through the red flannel bag. The
mother expedites her packing business, springs
quickly up over the flour on to the saddle,
while a tall Indian suddenly turns the corner,
lifts red flannel and its wondrous contents into
her lap, over which she spreads a blanket,
smothering any further attempts at crying
which the ill-used infant might have had in
view. Another woman, mounted in the same
way, appears in the street. Both ponies so
heavily laden pass slowly down to the river
and cross to the Delaware country, which
stretches along the opposite bank of the Kansas river, and is densely wooded.
176 
IN KANSAS.
It is not till the middle of Februrary that
the winter relents-the eaves of our humble
dwelling begin to drip; and travelling up and
down the river with loaded teams is set aside
as unsafe. The winter has indeed been a long
and trying one. Provisions have become
scarce, and the difficulty of providing for so
many men, a question of the utmost interest
to wise men. Everybody has denied themselves luxuries most cheerfully. But the goal
of a fruitful summer, the nearer relief even
of access to our friends, through the opening
navigation of the western rivers, all seem a
long way off. The unbridged streams between
this place and the nearest market-town in
Missouri, together with the now softening
drifts of snow, make all market communication
quite impossible. All through the winter our
mails have been most unfaithfully attended
to; to speak fairly, one half of our letters
and papers never get through the two borders of our most truly interesting neighbor,
Missouri. Numerous money-drafts, forwarded
from the East to help us in our utmost need,
have" been detained. I should certainly be
obliged, in face of all I have seen and learned
s 177 
SIX MONTHS
this winter to accept the awful doctrine of
total depravity, if it were not for my firm conviction that there is a great misunderstanding
somewhere. Certainly there must be a great
proportion of good and kind people in the
State of Missouri; this, however, is simply a
matter of faith, not of sight. To us, however
good they may be, they turn a deaf ear and
keep a cold silence.
Feb. 22d. - This twenty-second of February
witnesses a social gathering in the hall of this
hotel, or rather in the dining-room.   "Company A" give the party, and preside over it
with a great deal of hospitality. Tables are
spread in the upper entry, which is very spacious. I am quite surprised at the clean and
nice appearance of the tables, and the variety
spread upon them for our refreshment. In the
course of the evening, "Company A" entertain us with an original song got up by
them, in the ballad style, giving quite a history of this settlement. This company is a
matter of general interest to us all. Its members are young men, and very brave. One
of its members, a native of Ohio, has in sev
178 
IN KANSAS.
eral instances shown remarkable presence of
mind. Very early in the commencement of
this settlement a tented cabin took fire, there
was no person in it, but there were some
trunks of clothes belonging to absent members
of the settlement, and also, a keg of powder.
Persons who saw the fire knew the cabin could
not be saved. With a sudden cry at the remembrance of the powder, young B. sprang
down the slope, entered the burning curtain,
and took the cask, already smutty and slightly
charred, in his arms, and running out still farther down the ravine, threw it from him, and
then returned and hauled out the trunks in
safety. Another young man, from New England, succeeded in getting a team, loaded with
cannon, up from Kansas City, when camps on
the road were filled with armed men.
Feb. 24th.-The ice in our river dissolves
its winter-union to-day-this twenty-fourth day
of February-a bright, cheerful Sabbath. The
sky appears in its own peculiar clearness, bringing distant objects distinctly before the eyes.
I go from one window of the hotel to another,
uttering exclamations at the prospect. I see
179 
SIX MONTHS
the river curving quite round, up towards its
source, walled with tall, tastefully arranged
trees, and, floating sluggishly upon its surface,
cakes of ice thick enough to have done justice
to a more northern latitude. Groups of people
stand along the shore, watching with apparent
interest the indications of a clear and navigable
river. While, from many little homes, churchgoing people pick their way through the softened snow, pools of dirty water, and mud of
uncertain depth, towards the rude place of
worship. Off in the distance, towards the
south-west, Blue Mound lifts its fair proportions
against the sky, making a line with the Wakarusa river, marking its course by the fringe of
trees along its nearest banks; and its farther
shore, by the rising, terraced slopes lifting
themselves far in the distance to the line of
the horizon, sprinkled here and there with
patches of clean snow, upon a ground of dried
grass and the black mould of this truly fertile
country. Without any great stretch of the
imagination, one can fancy many distant towns
and villages nestled in those pleasant slopes.
One can never look over this beautiful country
without a feeling of astonishment that it was
never taken up for settlement before.
180 
IN KANSAS.
The month of February closes full of hope
and cheerfulness to us all.  The winter is
indeed gone, and our places of abode are still
standing unmolested. The hour of my imprisonment, too, is nearly out. We must go
back to cabin house-keeping soon; and till
then, believe me as ever, your affectionate
daughter,                           H. A. I
16
181 
KANSAS SUFFERERS. -TROUBLE THREATENED.
MARCH, 1856.
MY DEAR MoTEm,-  Your most kind and acceptable letter reached me in the same mail
with Sarah's, and gave me so great a start, lest
something unpleasant had occurred, that I
hardly dared break the seals. Since receiving
them I have written to Ellen, so that you will,
if it reaches you, know how much better I am.
We moved back to the cabin last Monday. It
was hardly warm enough weather to make
the change, but the men were plastering the
hotel, and I felt as though they would be glad
to have us leave. Besides, I recollected the
theory you always advanced, that plastering,
when fresh, was a dangerous near-neighbor.
The two first nights after I came into the
cabin I coughed almost incessantly.  The fire
went out, and the rough winds crept in everywhere. But it seemed pleasant to get back
once more and brighten up the cabin with a
(182) 
SIX MONTHS IN KANSAS.
warm fire, and a general washing of dishes,
and dusting of furniture.
We have made another improvement, too,
by covering two-thirds of the floor with carpeting. On that portion we have the bed,
bureau, washstand, grandpa's chair and the
little table. The carpet reaches close to one
side of the cooking-stove; and in front of the
stove I have a thick mat, upon which my feet
now rest as I write. The children have just
gone down to the bank of the river, to see a
skiff launched.
Kansas river is now a deep and rather goodlooking stream, but lacks motion and a clear
bottom. The ice is out as far as St. Louis, but
no boats have come up yet; and travelling
any other way is too hard for people. So far,
I have seen no improvement upon our New
England climate. One can but consider themselves most seriously taken in, by all the grand
talk about Kansas winters.  The Delawares,
however, say this is the coldest winter for very
many years. Indeed, they warned us last fall,
by various signs, to prepare for a cold winter.
But how could we get ready to be comfortable,
while watching the signs so much more mo
183 
SIX MONTHS
mentous- of war! And how could people
make tight houses, without lumber? Sawmills and grismils should have preceded
printing-presses in the proportion of a dozen
to one. Then, the little money among us
would have gone much farther. Many a field
of.corn was lost because the owner was on
guard in Lawrence, when he should have been
gathering his crops; and many a bag of meal
was emptied, and many a quarter of beef was
roasted, gladly and generously, to feed the
soldiers. These things, in a country so new,
have of course left their effects upon the whole
winter. There has been a great scarcity of
money, and of many things which money alone
could buy.  It is not possible for those who sit
in whole houses and by warm fires, to understand this winter, out in Kansas. Those who
have been on the spot and passed through its
own peculiar history, must always consider it
as a rich legacy in the line of experience.
I really wish I had more births and marriages to report to you, with fewer deaths.
The former, I am sorry to say, are quite unusual in the present epoch of Kansas history.
In this respect our history is quite in character
184 
IN KANSAS.
with the history of the early settlement of
other States and Territories; the graveyard
is one of the first apportionments, and the
soonest to be thickly inhabited. Quite late in
the autumn, one of our merchants returned
east to bring his wife out here. She died of
cholera on the Missouri river, and was buried
where many other immigrants have found a
last resting-place, upon its wild, uninhabited
banks. The forlorn husband, Mr. Wilder, continued his journey, and reached this place in
safety. He inherited consumptive tendencies,
and this sad misfortune aggravated and increased them. He died this week. He had
made every preparation to return to his former home in Vermont, and waited only for
better weather and better travelling. They
both came too late.
My first escape from the winter prison was
at the invitation of. Typhoid, to pass the day
with her. It is of necessity a crowded, depotlike house; people always coming to warm
themselves and departing, or getting a night's
lodging and then going on their way bright
and early in the morning.
On this gala-day for me, there was still
16'
185 
SIX MONTHS
some snow and frost about the earth, and a
curious- between "hay and grass"-aspect of
people, cattle, and equipages. Carts, with
oxen or horses attached, stood side by side
with sleds of most extemporaneous build; while
men with blankets or coats, or without either,
carefully picked their busy way to and from
the town. At noon, strangers and boarders
accept the call of the house-bell, and flock in
for dinner. While in the midst of the gathering aspirants for dinner, a yoke of red and
white oxen drag a most rare pattern of a sled
close before the door-steps. The man guiding
the oxen is very young; and he seems remarkably careful of his load. How could he
be otherwise? for she is a beautiful young
girl, dressed in refined taste, notwithstanding
the rude sled and the clumsy bed-comforter
with which she is so carefully wrapped. She
takes a seat by the sitting-room fire; is very
cold, and prefers the warmth to dinner. On
our return from the dining-room, she is absorbed in the perusal of letters just brought
her by her husband from the post-office. She
is so pretty, and so young-looking, one cannot
refrain from gazing at her, and wondering
186 
IN KANSAS.
how she came out here. Without undue curiosity, the impalpable atmosphere about persons gives you some kind of a clue to their
condition.
This lady finished her letters, read them
over a second time, then wrapped them up
carefully and placed them in her basket. She
was too young and unsuspicious not to trust
those about her. She seemed to crave sympathy; and began the story one most wished
to hear. She lived on a claim out ten miles,
on the road up the river, a very lonesome
place. If they only could live in the town.
She always had lived in a town before. But
now she had spoken to but two women out of
the house since September; and there was no
travelling past, wherewith to amuse herself
To be sure, her husband's mother lived with
them, and was very kind; what would they
do without her? And the house was more
comfortable than any she passed in her ride;
it was built of logs, cemented inside, and had
three rooms and quite a cellar; but she had
frozen her feet, how she could not tell, for
there was a carpet on the floor, and she had
not been out; but then the winter had been
187 
SIX MONTHS.
so cold! it was now six weeks since her feet
were first frozen, and she could not yet walk
upon them. She came out here in company
with Dr. P. and she thought the day was so
fine she would come and consult him about
her sore ankles.
A cheering little spirit she seemed to be;
telling many pleasant bits of her experience
in house-keeping. As good luck would have
it, Dr. P. came into the room where we were.
He seemed very glad to see her; questioned
her about her feet, which had neither stockings nor shoes upon them, but were wrapped
carefully and securely in an abundance of
flannel. He seemed quite anxious at some of
her replies, and said she must go home with
him and pass the night, the better to secure a
fair chance to examine the poor feet. The
team was again brought to the door; the little
lady lifted carefully into the seat, softened
with a comforter; and, the last glimpse I ever
expect to have of her, she was being faithfully escorted by her husband on one side, oxwhip in hand, and Dr. P. on the other, reining in his prancing, splendid, black horse, and
pointing over the country to the place where
188 
IN KANSAS.
his cabin stands. Through him I have since
learned that she was from Cincinnati; the only
daughter of a wealthy family, married without their knowledge or consent, while a school
girl. Dear little "child-wife," who can ever
avert the doom, sealed by your own thoughtless hand! There are men for whom, under
some rare circumstances, so great a sacrifice
might compensate, but this is not one of
them. I see nothing before her but a life of
protracted. anxiety and suffering.
Disagreeable news begins to float up the
river. A few persons from the East have arrived in town, and bring us word that a quantity of Sharpe's rifles and four guns, coming up
the river, packed in carpenter-chests, and in
charge of Boston men, were forcibly seized at
Lexington and kept. The joke of it is, some
little machinery belonging to each rifle was
packed separately, was undiscovered by the
pirates, and reached here in safety; so that if
they fire the rifles, they will discharge at both
ends! How many times, think you, will they
fire them? One of the persons who had them
in charge has gone to see Gov. Shannon, and
demand an order for them. The Governor is
.
..
189 
SIX MONTHS
now at Lecompton, a few miles farther up the
river.  What will that "gutta percha" man do
in such a dilemma? If he refuses, then he
acknowledges himself in favor of the robbers.
If he grants the order, the robbers become
his enemies.  Poor "Gutta," I am always curious, and somewhat pitiful, too, when you
have to decide a question.
Tell Ellen's "Uncle Ben" that I was very
glad to receive the letter in which he bore a
part.  Ihoped toanswerit; but I. have but
little time to write, and very few conveniences
for doing so-for a long while no table, nor
chair, nor ink fit to mark paper with. Then,
at first, I was very homesick. It seemed
chronic, like a tooth-ache or a side-ache to
which one has long been accustomed in a
milder form; for I don't think I ever made
even a temporary change of residence without
suffering somewhat from it. In this instance
I could do nothing to relieve it, and never
told it to others; that is not my way. The
heat through September was intense; the
winds, even, seemed to come from a hot furnace. The sky was remarkable for its clear
brightness. I felt almost as though I belonged
190
! —'...:..:^ ~ 
IN KANSAS.
to the owl family, it seemed so staring bright
to me. Then, when the sun went down so
grandly, so gracefully, behind the most exquisitely terraced hills in the far, far distance,
and I would have refreshed myself by a cosey
sit-down outside the cabin, to watch the stars
and muse alone, there could nothing be found
over this dreadfrally cleared-up wilderness
whereof a seat might be made! not a dear
old pasture-knoll, or rock with its mossy
cushion, or a wall holding so many nice flat
stones, where one always is tempted to sit,
alone, or with a friend, far into the night, or
the stump of a tree, could this boasting, muchtalked-of new world produce for my comfort,
and remind me of home. The next great
cause of discomfort to us was the lack of
water. Accustomed to use it as freely as a
duck-or, more to the point, perhaps, a goose
-the doled-out pitcher-full at a hotel, with
the thermometer at eighty or ninety, seemed
wholly unendurable, though chargeable to the
fault only of a certain condition of things,
which time and more advanced "city improvements" could remedy.
For the cabin, water must be brought
191
I
.:. e 
SIX MONTHS
nearly a quarter of a mile, unless taken from
the river sleeping but a few rods ofi, and settled down to its narrowest bed by the dry
hot summer, and cushioned round with shifting, strange-looking sand-bars, which partakes
too much of the properties of the broader
Missouri, into which it empties, for any Eastern house-keeper to risk her white cotton in
it, or to use it willingly about her person.
I wonder if all this sounds like fault-finding? I mean it simply as a statement of
facts, which I believe I started with to excuse
myself for not writing to all my friends. How
often they pass through my thoughts! or
rather when they are absent from my thoughts
it would be difficult to find out. Like the figures in a panorama, they come at my call,
each making way for another, as in pictures
turned by other machinery than the fancies
of a busy brain. My promises to write come
with them, like shadows on the wall; and
then follows a discussion upon the weightiness of this or that reason for the neglect.
If I really had a conscience, I dare say these
communings would be set down to its righteous upbraidiigs.  But, mother, my present
...:-..
192 
IN KANSAS.
opinion is that I have no such attendant. Certainly, whatever labors I perform are a pleasure, usually; if not, they lie so close before
me that intuition, I think, prompts to their
accomplishment. Or, it may be, they intervene between me and something which I desire in my more interior nature to come at.
Intuition helps: this puts spurs to my activity.
What I do for my friends is a whole-hearted
pleasure. Conscience does not help or hinder
me, even to the taking off any amount of me,
for their benefit. My friends! are they not
the circumference of my heaven? Then
surely it is no dt-cyeall which makes me true,
loving, and faithful to them. The world in
general is an object of such intense sympathy
and pity for all, that in its wrong-headedness
it suffers,-as well as for all it loses, by resting on so low a moral and intellectual plane,
-that  naturally, not  dutifully, I run  all
round, lifting a weary head here, or bathing an
unsightly limb or visage there, till, weary with
the energy I expend, I put myself upon the
shelf for rest, saying very privately, whispering it close in the ears of this me, "What is
their torture to yours? Has not your life been
17
193 
SIX MONTHS
a long humiliation? a solitude, broken only
upon its surface? a lone, helpless, womanly
desolation, kept from dying out only by the
often kindly grasp of the hand, the friendly
recognition of the eye, or the more demonstrative letter, costing time, thought, and remembrance?
This childish, credulous me, thus flattered
into a continued keeping upon the shelf, complacently makes out a case of justifiable repose
for its future, keeping still a neyative friendliness to the poor, pitiable portion of the world;
but no more actual service. Where, I wonder, is my conscience now? If asleep, it is
time a better sentinel was placed on guard
over my soul!
Upon the whole, mother, my pen has struck
out on the wrong road altogether.  "Uncle
Ben" did not wish a word on this highway:
make it over to his brother; it will furnish
him a theme for a sermon of rebuke to all
conscienceless people.
This "Uncle Ben" of Ellen's, once before,
wrote for my advice about the advantages to
be gained by his going West; and I urged it
with very many, to me then, strong reasons
194 
IN KANSAS.
in favor of it.  Our wise "sage of America"
says: "Let a man  speak what he thinks
to-day, and to-morrow say what he believes; even if he contradicts the words of
yesterday." Acting upon this permission, as
well as the wider experience of to-day, I
should take back whatever inducement at a
former period, and in quite a state of ignorance, I might have then presented to him.
At his age, (he will excuse me,) changes cannot be made in all one's habits of action and
position, without pain; not to speak of loss,
never to be regained-of ties, made strong
with years, and strengthened by joy and sorrow. Few cultivated minds like his can safely
go so far from everything they have known
and joined sympathy with.
Did I ever tell you about a colony of emigrants, who went south from this place some
seventy miles, or more or less? (I am never
good with numbers.) Report says it was a
most promising colony, and that they located
in a most fertile, sunny region, where the
rough winds do not have full play, as they do
here. The summer was one of delightful
weather-too fascinating for work, and too
195 
SIX MONTHS
full of promise for sufficient preparation to
be made against the coming winter-time.
Autumn settled down with damp nights and
heavy dews. The fever and ague spread among
them all. The clergyman and his family were
all down with it.
One day a brother clergyman, from New
England-who had taken up the time of his
summer vacation in coming to see his friend,
and gratify his desire to see the countryfound his way to the colony, and to the
humble cabin of his friend. Rather a sad
meeting it was; for there was no one able to
provide for his comfort or their own. He cut
wood for the fire- made his own coffee- and
provided for his horse. While taking his own
refreshment, there came in a poor, old, sicklooking man, who could hardly carry himself
about, to borrow a shovel for the purpose of
digging a grave for another man, who, he
said, had just died; and on further inquiry,
replied, that he was the only person left at
all able to perform the service. The visitor
"lifted up his voice and wept," repeating to
himself, "I never could have believed in such
a state of things without coming here to see
196 
IN KANSAS.
it! " As soon as the clergyman and his family
were well enough to be moved, they were
brought to Lawrence.
The first time I saw them, a young lad, the
only son of his mother, was suffering from a
fit of the ague, wrapped up in blankets upon
a lounge.  The mother, a'fair, gentle English
woman, sat in an adjoining room, sewing
together the breadths of a comforter. The
only cabin they could obtain was a poor
affair, leaking badly, and partly covered with
cotton cloth. This little fellow worked with
right good will to keep wood cut for the fire,
as soon as he was able; but the weather came
on so cold that fire made but little impression.
At last, when the winter was far spent, a very
comfortable house was made ready for them.
The lady, however, had fastened upon her a
serious cough, before the relief of warm air
was granted to her. Hopes were entertained
that spring would restore all she had lost
through the winter. When, very suddenly,
last week, the young lad was  siezed with
fever and total delirium. He survived but a
few days. And in less than a week, his sorrow-stricken mother passed away also. All
17*
197
I 
SIX MONTHS
who now remain, are the father, a daughter
about seventeen, and a pretty little pet, in
the shape of a little girl about five years old.
They came to stay with Typhoid, until preparations could be made for them to return
east. The little girl still has turns of ague,
but a-change of climate will probably restore
her.
This young boy's history reminds me of
another lad, still younger, who has been an
object of a great deal of interest to many
persons among us. I cannot recall his namefor we all call him " Bub."  When L. was travelling over the territory, at some place where
he stopped he heard a conversation about
this little boy, eleven years of age, who came
out with his father to look about for a place
of settlement. The father grew sick, and in
order to provide for the boy, commenced a
return journey. One night they put up, for
the night only; but it proved the last of his
life. The poor little orphan was completely
crushed  under the weight of a grief and
desolation so dreadful. L. was so interested
in the case, especially as they were Massachusetts people, that he made arrangements for
198
I* 
IN KANSAS.
the boy to be brought to Lawrence. As soon
as he arrived here, I went in often to see him.
He always met me with a smile, but made no
conversation about the past. I'm sure I could
not ask him any questions directly personal
sorrow seems so sacred.  HIe is remarkably
interesting in person; has more than the usual
share of beauty; and, through his periods of
almost daily fever or ague, he never frets nor
exacts much from others. Indeed, the strange,
bewildering loneliness of his position seems to
have paralyzed every childish emotion.  Sitting in a hard, ugly chair, close to the stove,
when the chill is upon him, it is pleasant to
witness how the roughest, sternest nature is
softened when brought close to the same stove
for warmth.  "Well, Bub, are you better today?" comes in tones so truly symnpathetic
that the child-heart leaps up to answer.
Now there arrives from the East (that muchloved "land of Egypt" to every wandering
Israelite in this far-off, strange land) a man
whom we all love and honor-to whom we
all look, as to a sheet-anchor in a storm.
General Pomeroy gives both warmth and
light to the parlor of the miniature "Cincin
199 
SIX MONTHS
nati House."  He loves children-they know
by intuition who does; and this desolate little
boy gives his unresisting hand into the great
brown palm of the General, while, as the evening settles down into approaching night, and
people pass out from the room usually so
crowdeS, the kind-hearted man touches with
so much tenderness the "aching cord" of his
little companion, that the fountain of tears
breaks open like a long pent-up flood. The
little hand is covered with another brown
palm-smoothed gently, and time given for
all the relief which sobs and tears can bestow.
Now follows, naturally, the story of his departure from home with his father-all the
details of their long journey-the coming
sickness-the final death of the father. Poor
little fellow! It would have melted the stoutest heart to hear his unaffected, simple statement of the, to him, awful tragedy. Questions
came often from the General, as well as words
of comfort, in a voice gentle as that of a loving
mother.
This man, with a heart in which the milk
of human kindness had not been permitted
to become acid, came down to the simple
200 
IN KANSAS.
plane of the child's mind; took this great dilemma of his young life in hand, and solved
it for him. He repeated his mother's name
over and over again to him, until the poor little
fellow became accustomed to the sound, and
could repeat it himself without shrinking, and
Hope lifted itself from the torpor of many a
long day. Gen. Pomeroy promised to see him
safe home to his mother; but not now. He
must get well first; and for this purpose he
would get him boarded at Dr. Barber's, long
known as a missionary among the Indians, and
well skilled in the treatment of diseases of
the country. His mother should be written
to immediately; and, when the warm spring
weather came, he should be conducted to her.
All the while I am gathering td myself
beautiful expositions of character like what I
have just related. They are riches to me, in
this far-off land, where there has been so
much to disturb and irritate everybody. I
turn from them with a sort of unutterable
soul-sickness, to watch the dark clouds heaving up over our hopeful sky, from our heartless, poor-apology of a neighbor, Missouri.
You will remember this, as the month when
201 
SIX MONTHS
our own legislative body is to meet.   We
womenkind look with fear and trembling
upon the departure of so many of our strong
men to Topeka. If it was located between
us and Missouri, I think we might enjoy the
gathering together of this political machinery
for the very laudable purpose of making laws
for our protection. But Topeka is twentyfive miles farther up the river. I remember
very well that in the winter, when Gen. L.
hesitated about accepting an invitation to pass
a portion of the cold winter with a friend in
Missouri, "Sheriff Jones," judging, rightly
enough, that it was as a soldier he hesitated,
said, very decidedly: "I give you my word, as
a man of honor, this people will be free from
all invasion for the next six weeks."
Whatever faults the sheriff has, and however strong his prejudices may be against us
unfortunate New Englanders, he pledged himself in a way not to be doubted; and he must
have had good reason for limiting the time.
That time is now up, and our people are assuming to take care of themselves.  "Uncle Sam"
feeds Missouri with sugar plums; but our cry,
to be allowed to earn bread for ourselves, is not
202 
IN KANSAS.
heard. What then can we do? Justice has
fled entirely out of the country. The position of our people has reached the highest
point of heroic desolation. Now we must "put
our trust in God, and keep our powder dry."
I hope you will read Gov. Robinson's message. It does not sound much like the voice
of a reckless renegade. I feel very proud of
it. Fifty years from now it will read quite as
well, "I reckon'," as anything Frank Pierce hat
had to offer on this subject. You will see,
too, that "his excellency, Gutta Percha" is on
his way back here; and, to arrest our wise
men and take them all to pay a visit to Washington! I only hope he will have courage
to do it. Many of them are worthy to fill
high places at the seat of government, and
only need to be seen that this may be acknowledged. Most solemnly, I declare to you,
that I do not see any reason at all why this
people have been so beset by an adjoining
State. Everybody here seems disposed to
mind their own business and let other folks
alone. The quarrel in this instance is all on
one side. We do not need couriers to bring
us intelligence of Missouri's purposes concern
203 
SIX MONTHS
ing us. We feel it in the opposing sphere
of the air around us. We hear it in the
broken bits of talk, the awful oaths poured
out upon the heads of all "Yankees "-which
includes everybody east of the Mississippi and
north of the Ohio. I smile at this wholesale
contempt for us and the land of our birth;
I smile, too, at the former narrowness of my
views, when Boston seemed to me quite a
place; its sons and daughters noble, aye, almost royal, by the right of persevering, successful effort. And, notwithstanding the new
face with which my dear old home is here
presented to me, I hug my prejudices the
closer. I am not only proud, but thankful,
very thankful, that New England is the land
of my birth. Her laws and institutions are
dearer to us than ever before; and Kansas,
without a similar elevating basis of social and
moral restraint, would not be worth travelling
two thousand miles to secure.
Young as she is, Kansas is not without her
"Moses and Aaron," to create and expound a
code of laws suitable to meet her necessities,
and worthy the epoch in which she appears
before the public. Leave her in freedom to
204 
IN KANSAS.
gather about her what she feels the need of, and
even you will live to hear of her harmonious
completeness and social comfort.
But if Kansas is to be the battle-field
whereon all the exciting questions agitating
the whole country are to be fought, in the name
of all humanity, send "Wise men from the
East" to do the work. We who came here to
make homes, have already encountered quite a
sufficiency of hardship to make our homes
dear to us when they are made secure; quite
enough of unkindness on the part of our neighbors, to settle, for a period at least, the question of" hospitality and chivalry."
I believe I have told you of the continual
annoyance we experience from having boxes,
packages, and goods generally, overhauled
while coming up the river, or after they arrive
at Kansas City. The last article looked upon
as suspicious was a box containing a piano!
I yesterday saw Professor Daniels, of Wisconsin. He informed me that while at St. Louis
he saw several hundred men from the South,
"armed and equipped" for Kansas!  I think
I shall go back to Massachusetts, for the present.  I am heartsick at all this fuss —and in
18
205 
SIX MONTHIS IN KANSAS.
the spring-time, too, when everything is beginning to look so hopeful and bright for the poor
immigrants. Ploughs are out, making furrows
in the smooth old prairies; while everywhere
can be seen oxen and cows, with their noses
close to the earth, pulling at the young blades
of grass. There is a great stir, too, among
the house-builders. Everybody is busy. I
will not believe that better days are not in
store for this sorely-tried and badly-used people. Frank Pierce can't live forever; and,
after him, we must hope and pray for a "Joseph," who can hold the reins of government
evenly, and unite contending parties by the
strong bond of mutual safety.
Let me hear from you again very soon, and
oblige your affectionate daughter,
H. A. R.
206 
MISCELLANEOUS LETTERS.*
LAWRENCE, K. T. Nov., 1855.
HON. CHARLES SUMNER:
MJ  Dear Sir,- Waiting to-night in my
cabin, for I       and C     to come in for
their supper, L       surprised me, coming in
alone to ask if he might bring home Judge
S. to tea; which of course was only a pleasure
to me, if it added at all to the comfort of any
one engaged in the wearisome work of taking
care of this "Yankee" settlement.
While sitting at the "board," L          explained to me the necessity of sending some
person immediately to Washington; and,
would I write to you, or any other person I
knew there? so that all the light possible to
throw upon our present position might be
* The following letters are added by particular request, as
throwing some rays of light upon Kansas Life, not so clearly
detailed in the journal. I have also since learned that Mrs.
Barbour has lost all consciousness, is dressed and fed as a child:
her Buffering is over; her mind totally paralized.
(207) 
SIX MONTHS
given? I can hardly refuse; and yet I feel
wholly unequal to, and quite out of place on
a subject of so much importance.
Judging from my own impressions, I fear
you Eastern people hardly do justice to the
patient forbearance and long suffering of
Kansas immigrants. Here in Lawrence, no
week has ever passed without more or less insult and contumely thrown at our people by
our nearest neighbors, the Missourians. We
never ride, even within our own territory,
and meet them, but our ears are pained with
words too wicked to repeat. And they shoot
at defenceless people with as much cool indifference as they would at partridges or prairie
chickens.
My poor woman's-head does not pretend to
sift, or unravel this state of things. I am
only cognizant of the present sad and dangerous condition in which, as a town, we find
ourselves. You who are wise and benevolent
should be able to help us who are so defenceless, and so far removed from the ordinary
means of helping ourselves. Perhaps, like
many other "wise men," you may have imbibed the impression that Lawrence is a good
208 
IN KANSAS.
for-nothing fellow, always putting himself in
the way disagreeably, or treading upon his
neighbor's corns; if so, I wish I might be able
to disabuse you of any such injustice. Lawrence is a hard-working, money-loving, mindyour-own-business sort of person; who, if it
would not pay a good profit, probably would
not take the time or trouble to look at or
travel into his nearest neighbor's inhospitable
domain. Through the most of this month,
there has been more quiet and freedom from
annoyance, than for many a week previous.
Elections were over; the Free-State people
had shown themselves three to one, and the
question seemed to be at rest. But it was a
mere seeminy, a lull before a storm. There is
not, there has not been, a single cabin safe
from outrage anywhere in the territory for the
two past weeks. Without the slightest provocation, men are cut down, leaving families in
lone places without any protection; our cattle are taken; teams of freight stopped on
the public way, and all the merchandize
handled over, to see what it contains. Ammunition withdrawn, and then the luckless
wagoner sent on his way. Market-men, too,
18*
209 
SIX MONTHS
coming to bring us apples, and potatoes, and
flour, are forbidden to proceed. Gentlemen
whom I know and honor, some of them simply
visitors, riding in their own carriages up from
Kansas City, find their horses' heads seized,
while beastly, half-drunk Missourians demand
their business, and a pledge that they will not
tell Lawrence people how near armed men
are camping around them.
It gives me pleasure to be able to affirm
that I have known of no outrage exciting to
this on the part of these poor, hard-struggling
immigrants. I can but believe it to be wholly
the result of bitter opposition to Eastern people, having the prospective chance of a feesimple in the fair and beautiful hills and plains
of Kansas. I see and believe that this feeling
has been strong enough to lead Missouri to
put forth her mean and treacherous hand,
with the will to tear up by the roots every
settlement where the southern mark is not
stamped upon its inhabitants. 0, men of
Congress! where is the use of your assembling
together, if not for the good of those who are
in need of your aid?
Last night a strong and noble specimen of
210 
IN KANSAS.
a man passed close by our cabin on his watch.
I heard his cheerful voice, and the slow tramp
of his horse, as though he did not wish to disturb our sleep, but only to assure us of safety.
To-day, while off of duty, he is cut down as a
butcher  would an ox.   Long  before this
reaches you, other victims will sleep their last
sleep. Our houses are no protection. There
is hardly a cabin which a strong man could
not tear down.
Let me add, as a relief to myself, that I am
proud of Kansas and Kansas men and women.
They live in cabins; wear shabby clothes,
and rusty boots; their whole appearance offends my intuitive love for whatsoever is
beautiful, orderly, and graceful; but the energy, courage, good judgment, and noble magnanimity shown in these nights and days of
danger, sweep away all antecedents. I see
them in the majesty and power of a true and
noble manhood.
H. A. R.
211 
SIX MONTHS
LAWRENCE, K. T., 8TH DEC., 1855.
MY DEAR MR. M.,-You are very kind to
write to me twice without hearing from me
between-whiles. I think I must have given
quite a hapless picture of our condition to
excite so much commiseration. But I made
up my mind, when I left home, to give the
"outs" of Kansas life, for I felt quite sure we
had never heard them.
I am glad to be again able to write to you,
and that my "old cheerful way" has come
back with the putting on of my usual strength;
and also, that I still have a fund of cheerful
words for those who need them so much.
A- has been the sickest patient, with one
exception, I have seen. There seemed, for a
week, almost no chance of her recovery; and
she is now a long, skinny animal, in whom you
would find hard work to recognize the roundfaced, romping little girl who was so long your
pupil; but there is now everything to give us
hope that she will recover.
E- is suffering from the badly-cooked food
and awful accommodations of last winter;
212 
IN KANSAS.
added to which he has been for months a
nurse and watchman for the sick, and finds
himself listless and easily tired out.
The cabin is papered with many thicknesses
of newspapers; glass has taken the place of
cloth, for windows; and the cotton door has
given place to one made of walnut. It is a
funny looking place; and I wish, as a matter
of mere curiosity, aside from the desire to see
you, you could all look in and call as of old.
So much for us, personally; which I am
sure it has been difficult for me to come back
to or hunt up, amid all we have to do and
plan for.
Long before this reaches you, the note of
alarm will have sounded among you, and you
will tremble for our safety. We are now a
city under martial law. Many men are on
guard every night; and the unfinished hotel
is the head-quarters of our Commander-inChief, Dr. Robinson, where he and his aids,
with an armed force, sleep, and have done so
for more than a week. Our friend General
Pomeroy is a prisoner of war in the camp,
six miles east of us. As soon as this was
known, martial law was instituted. Now it
213 
SIX MONTHS
will be known who comes and goes. So far,
everything has been done to defend the town;
but not to provoke blood-shed. General Robinson grows with our needs; and there is as
fine a set of men now assembled as council of
war, in the rude hotel, as could probably be
gathered in any state in the Union. Young
men of education, who, had they remained in
old towns and cities, would have passed through
life as agreeable, refined, literary men, of midling rank in some profession-transplanted
here-stripped of all the appointments of
effeminacy- pushed  to exertion, with  the
penalty of starvation affixed-driven, by Missourians, to stand up tall, or be run down-to
fire, or be shot-how can they help putting
forth new powers? There is still another
class here-men of the wisdom which comes
even to the stupid, with age-whom the turning of the wheel of fortune has left poor.
They renew life in this new state of things.
Ministers of the gospel, even, are in the ranks
to-day, at the drill. Gray hairs float in the
breeze over furrowed brows, mounted on
horses that show they have come a long journey from farther up the country. L. brought
214 
IN KANSAS.
home one with him, to partake of our cabin
fare, who came here from New Jersey, and
now lives at Leavenworth. Perhaps I may as
well add, for the amusement of your girls,
that they took refreshment from a walnut
board, made into a cross-legged table, pushed,
for want of room, half way under the shelf
where I keep my dishes. The tea was from
Mr. Kendall's store at home, which the gentleman pronounced the best he had tasted in
the territory, and gave me the better proof
by handing his cup many times to be filled.
In the midst of all this, I ask L. if there is
danger of famine. He replies, with his merry
laugh, "One huntmdred bushels of corn were
ground last night." One man, who fastens
his horse at our stand, told me he should
have four thousand bushels of corn from his
claim. So you can see that we can stand
something of a seige.
To-day, Gov. Shannon and Gen. Robinson
are trying to make peace on some satisfactory
terms to all parties. I am no politician, do
not understand the ground of our offence, and
cannot give you properly the results.
Tell D. the "shake-down" provided for him
has rarely been vacant at all.      H. A. R.
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SIX MONTHS
LAWRENCE, K. T., 5TH FEB., 1856.
MY DEAR MRS. M.,- I always like to think
there is a time for all things which we ought
to do, or that it is our lawful pleasure to do;
so, very many times in the autumn, after your
very kind note, I said to myself, "the day or
hour to give to Mrs. M. must be hereabouts."
But the close-crowding of things to be done
for some one, made it quite impossible for me
to give aught to you and very many other
friends, except long periods of thought, while
watching in silence over the sick, or going
through the routine of cabin house-keeping.
Our cabin is fifteen feet square, with a nice
room over it. Our common clothing hangs
over the walls, around the corners appropriated
to our beds. Opposite these opens the door,
at the right side of which are shelves of black
walnut, very roughly put up, for dishes, and
a table of the same beautiful wood. On the
left side are arranged the materials for cooking; while pendant from the beams overhead,
hang, in curious.proximity, venison, beef, the
potato-basket, bags for beans, nice dried
216 
IN KANSAS.
apple, and patches, together with workbaskets.
The earth, everywhere where the turf is
off, is the blackest and richest of garden-loam.
When moistened by rain or heavy dew, it becomes like ink and flower. This, applied with
many feet to the cotton boards, creates a
decidedly brown color, which no person, after a
week's experience, would ever attempt to remove with any other implement than a
broom.
For a new country, this is surprisingly well
provided with a variety of food. We get very
fine, large appres in the fall, for a dollar a
bushel; sweet potatoes, for a quarter more.
These things are brought fifty miles, over deep
ravines which would quite frighten you to
look into.
The west portion of Missouri is mostly inhabited with a partially civilized race, fifty
years behind you in all manner of improvements. In November a wagon load of thirty
bushels of apples, none of which would measure less than a pint bowl, and one of which
could hardly be stowed in a pie, were sold in
this market at the price just mentioned.
217
19 
SIX MONTHS
They were a red-striped apple, somewhat like
the "Baldwin" in appearance. The taste of all
this fruit is peculiar; and though they vary
in color, size and value, this flavor in a degree
pervades them all. Another noticeable fact
is their total freedom from worms. Much of
this fruit is raised by the Indians of this Territory. The hard-working immigrants have,
even during this first summer of their new
life, raised an abundance of potatoes, squashes,
pumpkins, tomatoes, together with a large
amount of corn. We bought for our cow,
pumpkins for nine shillings a hundred. Some
of these things grow to an immense size.
Squashes weighing from a hundred to a hundred and fifty pounds. A- says, one she saw
at the hotel was large enough for a cradle.
Corn-meal has sold at the same price of apples. It is very much nicer than any I ever
saw before - sweet, delicate, as white as rice.
A hot corn-cake never leaves a crumb to tell
of its existence. The meats of the country
are cheap, compared with Eastern prices.
Flour is high, and never of the best quality.
Butter poor, and thirty cents a pound. Milk,
ten cents a quart, two thirds of the year.
218 
IN KANSAS.
Every advantage is taken of the necessities of
new comers.
You will perceive that I have taken you
back to the months of Autumn, the date and
subject of your letter. Half the time, too,
(and I am sure you will excuse it) it has
seeemed as I write, as though I was talking to
your father, whose love for moral and political economy, in connection with every portion of his country, seems to reach and animate me.
You will hear, by other ways, of the necessary guard about our ill-fated little town. All
that serves us now is the severity of cold
winter weather and the deep snow, still dropping steadily; as though, in the absence of
all pity in Congress, and all help from good
men in the States, it would cover us securely
with its shroud-like mantle.
How kind it is of you, to remember so
constantly one whose life is almost too broken
to come in the range of what you see and
hear.                              H. A. R.
219 
ELM hALL, BROOKLINE, May 29, 1856.
To J. M. W. ESQ.,
Independence, Mo.
[My Dear Sir, - I have not forgotten the
promise I made, to send you a paper from
Boston, as a token of our safe arrival home.
I suppose an apology will seem to you very
much in want of another to cover it, when I
say, - all the papers I read contained some
items of intelligence about your State which
it did not seem courteous for me to place
upon your table.
Could I have given them to you personally,
I dare say we should have talked the contents
over as kindly and rationally as we did the
same subject during those long, quiet, sunny
days when together we "steamed" down your
beautifully wide and grand old river.
Our party of returning emigrants had just
come out from under the weight of evil
foreboding, which rested alike upon everybody
in Kansas. We gave ourselves up to the
beauty of river-journeying and the pleasant
(220) 
IN KANSAS.
society of your excursion-party of Missourians.
Almost always, in looking back, we discover
more to mourn over than to rejoice in. Our
self-gratulation is at the escapes we make from
wrong, rather than the positive good we do.
But this journey along the turbid waters of
the Missouri, and subsequently in the cars to
Indianapolis, the kindness we received, the
good feeling expressed by you and most certainly felt by us, keep that week of adventure
pleasantly green and fresh in my memory.
It was a phase of Missouri character quite
unlike the brutal specimens we had seen and
lived in constant fear of for a long winter,
and compelled me almost into the belief that
I had awakened from the horrors of the nightmare.  And had there been no new outrage
to remind us of what we had suffered from
our cruel neighbors, that source of suffering
would in time have been wholly forgotten,
or remembered only as the result of misapprehension on the part of your people.
I am sorry now that I did not write to you
immediately after my return home. I should
have had so many pleasant things to say. My
19'
221 
SIX MONTHS
faith in the race was quickened into new life
by our friendly conversations. I now remember them sadly, as numbered with many other
states of the strongest trust in man, -passed
away to return no more.
Now, I wish to remind you of graphic descriptions given by different members of our
party, of Kansas. Let me take you by the
hand and go with you to the thrifty little
town of Lawrence. Dear little village of
cabins! a petted "Benjamin" to those of us
who are no longer young. Stand outside my
cabin, and look with me and listen. The sun
sinks down with a train of glory never surpassed in any country. Many cabins nestle
close to the ground before you, and hundreds
of people trace their way to their own, busy
with their own thoughts, plans and purposes
for the future.
The laborer places away his hod, his trowel
and his hammer.  He sings as he plods along,
for his work is done and his supper is' ready.
How still the place is, broken now only by
the distant tinkle of the cow-bell. Night unfolds her tentlike curtain of darkness. Listen! "while he, the man of prayer, commends
222 
SIX MONTIIS
to God the weary here;" across the stillness
floats his voice, subdued with reverence, and
earnest with thanksgiving and supplication.
Hle asks that "those who wait to shed innocent blood may be forgiven, and that the
hearts of unfeeling strangers may be turned
towards us." He gives thanks for returning
Spring. We return to our poor cabins full of
peace.
-The last month of spring is come.  Hope
springs anew in hearts almost broken. The
hotel is finished. Strangers now have a home
in good earnest, for there never was a more
hospitable landlord than Mr. Eldridge. Take
heart, little city of immigrants, "for the time
for the singing of birds is come," and you are
not destroyed.-The last week of spring is
here, and where, alas! is the little defenceless
town?
What a boiling, surging chaldron your Missouri must be, to pour over a scum of robbers
and assassins so often into a neighboring territory! Surely, after such a clarifying, there
ought to remain an element clear, strong, and
powerful, to work righteousness, justice, and
mercy.  If there is any such element, it seems
223 
SIX MONTHS
to be hid and useless; else it would come to
our rescue.
Stretching along the north side of Lawrence,
sweeps the Kansas River, making an impassible
barrier between us and our friends, the Deleware Indians. Our southern limit is walled in
by Mount Oread; upon the top of which
stretches a dark line of Missourians. On the
same highland is the house of Gov. Robinson;
and midway from its base stands the unfinished
church. East and west you will see a still
more fearful army of armed men. Sweeping
across the prairies, too, are groups of horsemen.
Fastened in the town are tents of United
States troops. All this parade is against us!
incredible as it seems. What we have done,
to be thus proscribed by Missouri, and, worse
than all, unheeded by our President, it will
certainly take the crooked head of a statesman to unravel. I willingly leave it to you
lawyers. We, who suffer from this protracted
apprehension, know very well what the sensation is. History will take account of the facts,
in this unparalleled confusion of right and
wroig.  History will immortalize the brave
and true men who had the c6urage to give
224 
IN KANSAS.
up their arms and surrender, when successful
resistance to outrage was no longer possible.
But only the "Recording Angel" keeps  a
truthful reckoning of the pitiful cry from the
hopeless, despairing women, and frightened,
bewildered children.
Sheriffs Jones and Donaldson ate of our
bread and drank of our cup, and then, Judaslike, straightway went forth to destroy us.
The brave boy, who stood by us and gave
them welcome, now sees, for the second time,
his cabin destroyed by your people. God only
knows if his life is spared. His last words
to me were: "Mother, go back to Boston;
I never knew how to value the laws of old
Massachusetts till I came out here. Never
you fear for me, mother; I must stand in my
lot. Shouldn't you be ashamed of me if I
went away?" And the answer was, "YEs,
MIY SON."
Now I perceive more fully the rare wisdom
of this boy-man.
On the 22d of May, your mob closed in
* around our little town.   Spider-like, they
wove their web of destruction.
For two weeks, the most intense anxiety
225 
SIX MONTHS
and fear have worn out the strength and
hearts of our people. After midnight, when,
if ever, the weary watcher falls asleep, there
is a startling, wolf-like whoop, penetrating
every soul of man, woman or child, and they
spring to their feet. Day has not yet dawned;
but through the dim light preceding morning,
may be seen the approaching army of madmen. Some little show of order is preserved,
while a few more sham arrests are madethus to secure all the leading men of the
town. This done, all houses are broken into;
everything of value stolen; all left behind,
unsuitable to move, broken up. The next
step was to assemble in Massachusetts Street,
front of the hotel, with cannon. On the opposite side of the street stood a cabin, occupied
by Mr. Brown, editor of the " Herald of Freedom;" and in the rear of the cabin, a fine
stone building, three stories high, built, under
great difficulty, and just finished, for a printing
office. Close at the side of the hotel stood
another cabin, occupied  by Mrs. Wood,  a
beautiful young woman, wife of D. N. Wood,.
who is a prisoner. A printing office joined
this cabin. In the centre of these proscribed
226 
IN KANSAS.
buildings were placed the cannon, and charge
followed charge upon the strong stone hotel.
The sturdy walls looked cooly at the fuss and
noise, but did not move nor tremble. Now
platoons fired at the windows of it. The
sheriff refused any time, or aid, to remove
women or children. This hotel had been
built as a pleasant home for strangers; and
also as a place of safety to all of us in the
time of danger. But now, in the utmost
terror, these people flee from it, and from the
sheriff and his posse. Along the banks of the
river they run wildly, creeping into deep
ravines to hide from the fury of the drunken
men.
Dear little children-God help them! What
compensation can life ever give to atone for
this page of awful reality?
My dear sir, you have but to imagine your
own wife and beatdiful boy among these exiles,
to give force to the picture, and stir aright
your sympathy. This wrong cries aloudby blood, rapine, and robbery-to just Heaven
for redress.' In my humble opinion there is
no page of history so revolting as this; and
the wounds are doubly bitter because they
come from a SISTER STATE.
227 
SIX MONTHS
After placing powder in the cellar, the hotel
surrendered. The printing presses were laid
to rest in the river; and at last the post office
gave up its honored credentials of office to
those hired assassins of that most uwzmiztgaed
calamity Heaven ever suffered upon the earth
-FRANKLIN PIERCE.
We who have escaped alive are in painful
uncertainty of the small notes in this sad
history. Some of us have risked our all in
that territory, and LOST ALL. Our sons, if living, may now be hungry and naked; yet we
have no power to reach and succor them.
The walls of this pleasant chamber have
seemed like a prison, as, in the hours when
others sleep, I walk up and down it; while
every thought and affection overleaps your
truly dreadful State, to stoop, in tearful sympathy, over the forsaken, dying Lawrence.
I open the blinds, and look forth for the
early morning, "when the day begins to
dawn;" but my thoughts will not come hbme.
I now remember, and enter into the states of
those women of old, who stood at the cross
and the sepulchre weeping, and to whom was
given the voice of hope and consolation, in
228 
IN KANSAS.
these words: "He is not here, but risen!"
Thought goes back a page farther in the
old history, when two women wept over the
grave of their only brother, and Jesus, standing by, "wept" also.  He did not give us the
example of expending all his sympathy in
tears; no! "With a loud voice he said,'Lazarus, come forth!"'
Lawrence is dead! but as surely as there is
justice in Heaven, this death by violence,
wholly unprovoked, will be avenged. As surely as there are disciples of Jesus still doing his
work on the earth, so surely shall this martyrdom become the seed of a true church, to
lighten the heathen world about it.
Lawrence shall hear the words, spoken by
the up-rising better nature of man, saying,
"come forth!" and the glory of the newlybuilt city shall far surpass the degredation of
its present ruin.
I do not ask you to excuse the sorry words
dropping from my pen. I hold you still by
the hand, and, as your superior in years, demand your rational attention. You are young,
earnest, and honest. I believe you truly desire to do what is right.
20
229 
SIX MONTHS
Lawrence is dead! toll the bells all over
your State, for the skirts of your garments
are dripping with blood.  This is murder, deliberately planned, and coolly carried out. Which
of you did it? You are a citizen of Missouri.
Call your people together, and charge the
deed where it belongs. There is restitution
to be made.
As a State, pray try the experiment for
once, of high minded magnanimity. If there
is anywhere within your precints a record of
Jewish Laws, originally written upon "two
tables of stone," and, by common consent,
called "The Ten Commandments"- if the
words of Jesus, "a new commandment give I
unto you, that ye love one another," are to
to be found within your territory-take them
before your "wise men,";' for action. Your
people have outraged society by the crimes of
murder, arson, and robbery. No power of
yours can give us back the slain! Our great
Master gives us the prayer to meet your case,
and we will use it always when we remember
you: "Father, forgive them, for they know
not what they do."
The houses you have burnt you can rebuild;
230 
IN KANSAS.
and the goods you have stolen, you can restore. You as a State, are rich and strong; we
were poor and weak, and from us you have
taken the little that we had. We went to
Kansas to make homes; and violated no law
by so doing. We do not intend to give up
the plan of remaining; and when you are better acquainted with us proscribed Yankees,
your animosity will have passed away. Hoping that you will be able and willing to redeem your name from dishonor among the
States, I remain yours very truly,
H. A. R.
231