Record Data
Source citation
Sara Tappan Doolittle Lawrence Robinson, Diary of Sara Tappan Doolittle Lawrence Robinson, December, 1855, Kansas: Its Interior and Exterior Life, 4th edition, Boston, MA: Crosby, Nichols & Co., 1856, p. 366.
Author (from)
Robinson, Sara Tappan Doolittle Lawrence
Type
Diary
Date Certainty
Exact
Transcriber
Michael Blake
Transcription date
Transcription
The following text is presented here in complete form, as it originally appeared in print. Spelling and typographical errors have been preserved as in the original.
-- The murdered man was brought into town last night, and in his usual dress, laid upon a table in the hotel. His look was one of perfect repose, with the pallor of the death sleep. The circumstances of his death show more clearly than anything which has previously transpired, the malignity, the utter heartlessness of the foe with whom we have to deal. This certainly convinces us that no mercy will be shown any who fall into their hands.
Mr. Barber, hearing that the lives of the people of Lawrence were in peril, had come, with others in his neighborhood, to lend his aid in making good our defence. Yesterday he mounted his horse, and, bidding his comrades "Good-by," saying that he "would be back in the morning," wholly unarmed, started for his home. Doubtless, as he sped over the prairies on his way, he thought of the glad surprise his coming would give his wife after this few days' absence, and with whom, on leaving for Lawrence, the bitterness of the parting, her unwillingness for him to go, seemed but a foreshadowing of his sad fate. A little after he had left the main road, with his two friends who accompanied him, two horsemen rode out from a company of twelve on the California road, Dr. Wood being one of them. They told him to go with them. In reply to their several questions he said, he "had been to Lawrence, was unarmed, was going to his home;" and, putting spurs to his horse, rode on; but the deadly bullet of the foul creature, the tool of the administration, entered his back, and, saying "O God! I am a murdered man!" he never spoke again.
The home to which he hasted he never reached, but his spirit is an avenging witness before the Higher Court, where all these deeds of blood are held in remembrance.
General George W. Clarke, the Indian Agent, went on his way to meet Governor Shannon at the Wakarusa head-quarters, and there declared with horrid oaths, "I have sent another of these d -- d abolitionists to his winter-quarters."
The feeling that her husband would be murdered had haunted the timid wife, but friends kept this dread knowledge from her until this morning.
Words can never convey the mingling emotions which moved the crowd, or the heart-crushing agony of the young wife. There were no children in the household, and all the affections had twined around this one idol. All of life, all of happiness, were centred in him; and to be bereaved thus, was adding bitterness to the agony. It seemed as though her heart must break, and, in her distress and shrieks, the brave, strong-hearted men mingled tears and muttered imprecations of vengeance upon the murderers, and upon him who had brought these murderers into our midst.
The hour approached for the arrival of the governor, who is coming to treat of peace. Already he was coming over the prairie with his suite. The carriage was a covered double-seated one, in which he occupies the back seat. With horsemen riding front and in the rear, the cavalcade moved on. In front of the hotel, lines of citizen soldiery were drawn out, and they knew there was a prospect of a settlement of these difficulties without further bloodshed. Can these men, whose murdered comrade now lies within these walls, make peace and he be unavenged? Their feelings revolt at such a proposal; but the magnanimity of their leaders, who propose pacification, calms the troubled waters, and they realize that peace is better than war, though the hot blood, crying revenge, still chafes. The carriage passed in through the soldiery to the door, and Gen. Robinson and the governor went through the halls, and up the unfinished stairways to the council-chamber.
As the eyes of the governor fell upon the rigid limbs, and the death-pallor of the young man, who yesterday was so full of life, hope, and strength, he gave a perceptible shrug of his shoulders. The governor's suite also entered, and as they passed the silent dead, Col. Boone, of Westport, said, "I did not expect such a thing as this." What else could they expect from the barbarous men gathered here by their murderous appeals?
They were introduced to the Committee of Safety in the large reception-room. Then the governor and Col. Boone, on the part of the invaders, and Gen. Robinson and Col. Lane, on the part of the citizens, held a private session in the council-chamber. They talked over the whole matter. The governor asked that the arms be delivered up. He was soon satisfied, however, that such conditions of peace would never be complied with, and said at last that such a demand was unreasonable. The papers which are to be signed will be made out to-night, and signed by both parties on the morrow.
The governor sent for troops from the fort this morning at three o'clock. He wants to gain time, and delay signing the papers, as he said that "he could not control the force he has brought against us." "If they knew a treaty had been made, they would at once raise the black flag, and march against the town." So, as he is hoping Col. Sumner will send his troops for the defence of Lawrence, this delay is made. When our citizens sent to him days ago for aid, he refused, because he had no orders from the President; and the question is, will he come now?
About three o'clock the governor and suite, consisting of Col. Boone, of Westport, Col. Kearney, of Independence, and Col. Strickland, also of Missouri, with Col. Lane, dined with us.
The governor is a gray-haired man, tall and well-proportioned. He has coarse features and a hard-looking face, generally. Nature must bear a part of the blame, but the weather and bad whiskey, doubtless, come in for a share. However, mild eyes, and a good height of forehead, show that naturally he is not a cruel man; but his head lacks firmness, as we speak phrenologically, and his course here, as well as elsewhere, is evidence that he is vacillating, weak, ill-suited to be the leader of other men; that he is credulous, and easily made a tool in the hands of base men; that, in brief, he is the exponent of the purposes and actions of the men, or party, with whom he is most thrown in contact.
Crowds of horsemen were passing over and down the hill. Some of them were our mounted guard -- others were from the camps of the invaders. The enemy have now nearly surrounded us. The camp on the Wakarusa, just south of Lawrence, cuts off connection with the southern settlements. There are strolling bands of men all through the Delaware Reserve, while quite a body of them are camped in the woods just opposite the town, preventing people passing to and from Leavenworth, and other colonies north. They still have camps at Lecompton, and below Franklin.
Yesterday, two of our ladies went out some ten miles, and brought in two kegs of powder. The guard of the invaders halted them, but apologized by saying, "I thought you were gentlemen."
Some of the enemy entered the house of Judge Wakefield, six miles from Lawrence. They ransacked it; and, going into the chambers, fired through the floor, the ball passing directly by the head of a sick lady, who was lying on a bed in the lower room. They have committed depredations upon the property of the Indians, at which they felt outraged. They are constantly taking prisoners any people from other settlements, coming to our aid, unless in large numbers; and we feel constant anxiety for our messengers who have been out some time.
Coleman, the murderer, fired into our guard; the fire was returned, the ball taking effect in the mule he was riding. It died soon after reaching Franklin. Had the guard known the man, he would have escaped less easily.
Gov. Shannon was in town again to-day. Col. Sumner declined to send any force, because he cannot act without orders from the President. The treaty was made with the people. The governor made a speech to the soldiers, telling them he has been laboring under a mistake; that if there were Missourians here they came of their own accord; that he had called upon none but the people of the territory. They would now disperse. He believed the people of Lawrence were a law-abiding people; indeed, he had learned that he had misunderstood them, and that they were an estimable and orderly people. He was glad to find there was no occasion for an attack upon the town, and no laws had been violated, etc. Cheers were attempted, but the muffled sound was little like the spontaneous, outgushing gladness of a satisfied people. There was yet a suspicion among them that the terms of peace had been too easily entered into; that something of their rights had been conceded by their leaders. The officers in command also made addresses, which more heartily called forth the expression of the people; and, with the governor, Generals Robinson and Lane went down to Franklin to meet the officers in the invading army. The governor had desired them to do so, because many of the leaders in his army were determined upon the guns being delivered up, and he wished some other convincing arguments than his own to be used with them.
The night was exceedingly tempestuous. The wind raged with unequalled fury, and was full of driving snow and sleet. All of the afternoon it had been so strong and furious, that boards, ten or twelve feet long, lying in a pile back of the house, had been blown, end over end, in every direction. But the night had added violence to the storm, and scarcely anything could make headway against, or live long out in it. Our Scotch friend had just come in with ears almost frozen.
We pity the guard who faithfully watch for our safety in such a wild night as this. The password for the night, "Pitch in," given by our gallant Adjutant-General Dietzler, who has command in the temporary absence of General Robinson, was in strange consonance with the wildness of the terrific storm. A double guard was put on, that each man might be oftener relieved from the watch, and to be in better readiness for any attack, which many fear. The anxiety felt for the safe return of the officers from Franklin was intense, so little faith have our people in the honor or the plighted word of the invaders.
At Franklin Generals Robinson and Lane met thirteen captains of the invaders in a little room. The governor made a long statement of the existing state of things. He told them that a misunderstanding had occurred; that the people of Lawrence had violated no law; that they would not resist any properly appointed officer in the execution of the laws; that the guns would not be given up; and concluded by advising them to go home to Missouri.
An escort had been promised to Generals R. and L. back to Lawrence; and when, at about seven o'clock, they left for home, one man only was provided to go with them. After going about one hundred yards, he too bade them "Good-evening," and wheeled his horse, leaving them in the enemy's country, without escort to pass the picket-guard. In this Egyptian darkness, the wind and sleet driving, and effectually blinding their eyes, they trusted to their horses to keep their way homeward, knowing they were in the road only by the sound of their hoofs upon the frozen
earth. But safely, though once General Robinson's horse fell under him, without injury to himself or it, they reached Lawrence. Later in the night word came in that a party of the ruffians had taken possession of a house a mile or two from town, driving the family out in the storm. General Dietzler went out to bring them in. The three prisoners were armed with a large number of deadly weapons, and were almost frozen. Their plea for going to the house was that they had lost their way. Suspicion was strong against them, from all the circumstances, that they left Franklin with the design of assassinating Generals Robinson and Lane, but were unable to keep the road, and very truly may have lost their way.
Mr. Barber, hearing that the lives of the people of Lawrence were in peril, had come, with others in his neighborhood, to lend his aid in making good our defence. Yesterday he mounted his horse, and, bidding his comrades "Good-by," saying that he "would be back in the morning," wholly unarmed, started for his home. Doubtless, as he sped over the prairies on his way, he thought of the glad surprise his coming would give his wife after this few days' absence, and with whom, on leaving for Lawrence, the bitterness of the parting, her unwillingness for him to go, seemed but a foreshadowing of his sad fate. A little after he had left the main road, with his two friends who accompanied him, two horsemen rode out from a company of twelve on the California road, Dr. Wood being one of them. They told him to go with them. In reply to their several questions he said, he "had been to Lawrence, was unarmed, was going to his home;" and, putting spurs to his horse, rode on; but the deadly bullet of the foul creature, the tool of the administration, entered his back, and, saying "O God! I am a murdered man!" he never spoke again.
The home to which he hasted he never reached, but his spirit is an avenging witness before the Higher Court, where all these deeds of blood are held in remembrance.
General George W. Clarke, the Indian Agent, went on his way to meet Governor Shannon at the Wakarusa head-quarters, and there declared with horrid oaths, "I have sent another of these d -- d abolitionists to his winter-quarters."
The feeling that her husband would be murdered had haunted the timid wife, but friends kept this dread knowledge from her until this morning.
Words can never convey the mingling emotions which moved the crowd, or the heart-crushing agony of the young wife. There were no children in the household, and all the affections had twined around this one idol. All of life, all of happiness, were centred in him; and to be bereaved thus, was adding bitterness to the agony. It seemed as though her heart must break, and, in her distress and shrieks, the brave, strong-hearted men mingled tears and muttered imprecations of vengeance upon the murderers, and upon him who had brought these murderers into our midst.
The hour approached for the arrival of the governor, who is coming to treat of peace. Already he was coming over the prairie with his suite. The carriage was a covered double-seated one, in which he occupies the back seat. With horsemen riding front and in the rear, the cavalcade moved on. In front of the hotel, lines of citizen soldiery were drawn out, and they knew there was a prospect of a settlement of these difficulties without further bloodshed. Can these men, whose murdered comrade now lies within these walls, make peace and he be unavenged? Their feelings revolt at such a proposal; but the magnanimity of their leaders, who propose pacification, calms the troubled waters, and they realize that peace is better than war, though the hot blood, crying revenge, still chafes. The carriage passed in through the soldiery to the door, and Gen. Robinson and the governor went through the halls, and up the unfinished stairways to the council-chamber.
As the eyes of the governor fell upon the rigid limbs, and the death-pallor of the young man, who yesterday was so full of life, hope, and strength, he gave a perceptible shrug of his shoulders. The governor's suite also entered, and as they passed the silent dead, Col. Boone, of Westport, said, "I did not expect such a thing as this." What else could they expect from the barbarous men gathered here by their murderous appeals?
They were introduced to the Committee of Safety in the large reception-room. Then the governor and Col. Boone, on the part of the invaders, and Gen. Robinson and Col. Lane, on the part of the citizens, held a private session in the council-chamber. They talked over the whole matter. The governor asked that the arms be delivered up. He was soon satisfied, however, that such conditions of peace would never be complied with, and said at last that such a demand was unreasonable. The papers which are to be signed will be made out to-night, and signed by both parties on the morrow.
The governor sent for troops from the fort this morning at three o'clock. He wants to gain time, and delay signing the papers, as he said that "he could not control the force he has brought against us." "If they knew a treaty had been made, they would at once raise the black flag, and march against the town." So, as he is hoping Col. Sumner will send his troops for the defence of Lawrence, this delay is made. When our citizens sent to him days ago for aid, he refused, because he had no orders from the President; and the question is, will he come now?
About three o'clock the governor and suite, consisting of Col. Boone, of Westport, Col. Kearney, of Independence, and Col. Strickland, also of Missouri, with Col. Lane, dined with us.
The governor is a gray-haired man, tall and well-proportioned. He has coarse features and a hard-looking face, generally. Nature must bear a part of the blame, but the weather and bad whiskey, doubtless, come in for a share. However, mild eyes, and a good height of forehead, show that naturally he is not a cruel man; but his head lacks firmness, as we speak phrenologically, and his course here, as well as elsewhere, is evidence that he is vacillating, weak, ill-suited to be the leader of other men; that he is credulous, and easily made a tool in the hands of base men; that, in brief, he is the exponent of the purposes and actions of the men, or party, with whom he is most thrown in contact.
Crowds of horsemen were passing over and down the hill. Some of them were our mounted guard -- others were from the camps of the invaders. The enemy have now nearly surrounded us. The camp on the Wakarusa, just south of Lawrence, cuts off connection with the southern settlements. There are strolling bands of men all through the Delaware Reserve, while quite a body of them are camped in the woods just opposite the town, preventing people passing to and from Leavenworth, and other colonies north. They still have camps at Lecompton, and below Franklin.
Yesterday, two of our ladies went out some ten miles, and brought in two kegs of powder. The guard of the invaders halted them, but apologized by saying, "I thought you were gentlemen."
Some of the enemy entered the house of Judge Wakefield, six miles from Lawrence. They ransacked it; and, going into the chambers, fired through the floor, the ball passing directly by the head of a sick lady, who was lying on a bed in the lower room. They have committed depredations upon the property of the Indians, at which they felt outraged. They are constantly taking prisoners any people from other settlements, coming to our aid, unless in large numbers; and we feel constant anxiety for our messengers who have been out some time.
Coleman, the murderer, fired into our guard; the fire was returned, the ball taking effect in the mule he was riding. It died soon after reaching Franklin. Had the guard known the man, he would have escaped less easily.
Gov. Shannon was in town again to-day. Col. Sumner declined to send any force, because he cannot act without orders from the President. The treaty was made with the people. The governor made a speech to the soldiers, telling them he has been laboring under a mistake; that if there were Missourians here they came of their own accord; that he had called upon none but the people of the territory. They would now disperse. He believed the people of Lawrence were a law-abiding people; indeed, he had learned that he had misunderstood them, and that they were an estimable and orderly people. He was glad to find there was no occasion for an attack upon the town, and no laws had been violated, etc. Cheers were attempted, but the muffled sound was little like the spontaneous, outgushing gladness of a satisfied people. There was yet a suspicion among them that the terms of peace had been too easily entered into; that something of their rights had been conceded by their leaders. The officers in command also made addresses, which more heartily called forth the expression of the people; and, with the governor, Generals Robinson and Lane went down to Franklin to meet the officers in the invading army. The governor had desired them to do so, because many of the leaders in his army were determined upon the guns being delivered up, and he wished some other convincing arguments than his own to be used with them.
The night was exceedingly tempestuous. The wind raged with unequalled fury, and was full of driving snow and sleet. All of the afternoon it had been so strong and furious, that boards, ten or twelve feet long, lying in a pile back of the house, had been blown, end over end, in every direction. But the night had added violence to the storm, and scarcely anything could make headway against, or live long out in it. Our Scotch friend had just come in with ears almost frozen.
We pity the guard who faithfully watch for our safety in such a wild night as this. The password for the night, "Pitch in," given by our gallant Adjutant-General Dietzler, who has command in the temporary absence of General Robinson, was in strange consonance with the wildness of the terrific storm. A double guard was put on, that each man might be oftener relieved from the watch, and to be in better readiness for any attack, which many fear. The anxiety felt for the safe return of the officers from Franklin was intense, so little faith have our people in the honor or the plighted word of the invaders.
At Franklin Generals Robinson and Lane met thirteen captains of the invaders in a little room. The governor made a long statement of the existing state of things. He told them that a misunderstanding had occurred; that the people of Lawrence had violated no law; that they would not resist any properly appointed officer in the execution of the laws; that the guns would not be given up; and concluded by advising them to go home to Missouri.
An escort had been promised to Generals R. and L. back to Lawrence; and when, at about seven o'clock, they left for home, one man only was provided to go with them. After going about one hundred yards, he too bade them "Good-evening," and wheeled his horse, leaving them in the enemy's country, without escort to pass the picket-guard. In this Egyptian darkness, the wind and sleet driving, and effectually blinding their eyes, they trusted to their horses to keep their way homeward, knowing they were in the road only by the sound of their hoofs upon the frozen
earth. But safely, though once General Robinson's horse fell under him, without injury to himself or it, they reached Lawrence. Later in the night word came in that a party of the ruffians had taken possession of a house a mile or two from town, driving the family out in the storm. General Dietzler went out to bring them in. The three prisoners were armed with a large number of deadly weapons, and were almost frozen. Their plea for going to the house was that they had lost their way. Suspicion was strong against them, from all the circumstances, that they left Franklin with the design of assassinating Generals Robinson and Lane, but were unable to keep the road, and very truly may have lost their way.