“Hold up there!” called someone from behind. Startled out of the monotony of the trail, Reuben looked back. A rider was approaching. He looked like a rough, crude frontiersman; shaggy beard and all. Reuben brought the wagon to a halt and waited.
“Hello friend,” said the man as he approached Reuben’s perch on the wagon seat. “I’m James Montgomery,” he said putting out his hand.
“Reuben DeLay,” he responded extending his hand for a firm, friendly handshake.
“What brings you to Linn County young man?”
“Fixin’ to settle if I can find the right place..”
“Where do you hail from?”
Reuben paused. He now understood that being from the wrong place could cause problems in Kansas. “Why do you ask?”
“Well normally it would be none of my business, but if you happen to come from somewhere up north, you might want to be on the lookout for the Bourbon County Posse.”
“Posse? What are they looking for?”
“They’re patrolling this road to see that no Free-Staters try to settle here.”
“Now that doesn’t sound very neighborly. Aren’t they a little bit out of their jurisdiction?”
“Bourbon County is full of squatters from Missouri. They mean to make Kansas a slave state.”
“Looks like some of your local folks feel the same way. I ran into a man named Morgan a few miles back. He didn’t seem to like that I was from Iowa.”
“Morgan’s a hard case. He came over here from Missouri to stir up trouble. He’s been telling the Missouri Ruffians and the posse who to drive off. You’re lucky he didn’t shoot you in the back.”
“He had a colored slave who seemed a whole lot friendlier.”
“That would be Sam. There are maybe a hundred slaves like him in the whole territory. Their owners figure it’s too easy to escape here, so they leave them home. Yet they want the whole of Kansas to become slave country. I’d help Sam, but he’s got family back in Missouri. He can’t leave them behind and it’s hard to get all of them to the Underground.”
“That’s kinda low, using a man’s family like that..”
“I’m working with some folks to get his family freed so I can spring him at the same time. We’ll probably send them all through Iowa. Do you have any contacts with the Underground?”
“I might, “Reuben responded cautiously. “I’m not sure I should be takin sides though.”
“You need to choose. This is no place for folks who are afraid to fight for what’s right. Two years ago, we had a lot of Quakers come here from Pennsylvania. They figured they were doing the Lord’s work by plowing a few acres and voting to make Kansas free. None of them were willing to fight though. Most were gone before their first harvest was done.”
“Driven off? asked Reuben.
“That’s right. This is no place for folks who can’t stand their ground. It appears you have a lot to learn about Kansas. Mind if I ride along for a spell?”
Reuben made room on the wagon seat and said, “Hitch your horse in the back next to mine and we’ll talk a spell, Mr. Montgomery.”
Montgomery dismounted, tied his horse’s reins to the wagon, and pulled his rifle from its scabbard. Reuben noted that it was the very latest in modern rifles; a breech-loading Sharps.
“You need that?” queried Reuben as Montgomery climbed aboard with the riffle.
“I get shot at regularly. Last year they burned me out. If you want to settle here, you need to defend yourself and fight for what’s yours.”
“I was hoping not to get involved with your troubles. All I want is a piece of land.”
“Maybe you should be looking for a place in Nebraska. In Kansas, we fight.”
By now, Reuben realized Montgomery was far from the rough-cut frontiersman he first supposed him to be. The conversation revealed him as a thoughtful, educated man. His zeal for the free state cause was also obvious.
“I had hoped I wouldn’t have to take a side.”
“This is Kansas. No one is neutral here.”
“So, tell me how am I supposed to make a go of it here.”
“Now we’re getting somewhere. First, you need to be more alert. I was well within pistol range before I hollered at you back there. You could have been dead, bushwhacked by a posse. Keep your weapons close and look for safe places to hole up. If the posse catches up with you, don’t tell them you’re from Iowa. Are you familiar with any places in Missouri?”
“Yes, Appanoose County is right on the border. We did business in Putnam County.”
“OK. Any time you deal with territorial officials, the Land Office, or anyone who talks, looks, or acts like a Southerner, you are from Putnam County, Missouri. Don’t be afraid to drop a few names. Make them up if you must.”
“I guess I can do that. I learned from my encounter with Morgan that it’s Missour-AH, not Missour-EE.”
“GooD! Now, why is it that you don’t have strong feelings about human bondage?”
“Well,” stammered Reuben, “I know it’s wrong, but I never figured I could do much about it.”
“You need to make up your mind right now!” barked Montgomery. “If you don’t have the gumption to take a side, you don’t belong in Kansas. You might as well turn this wagon around and head back to Iowa with your tail tucked between your legs.
“Are you a man of faith?” Montgomery continued.
“Yes Sir.”
“And what does the Lord, your God, tell you about slavery?”
“My Uncle Jacob is a man of the cloth and calls it an abomination.”
“Well son, you should have listened to your uncle. Slavery is an abomination. It is practiced by the meanest of men for the worst of reasons. It is a stain upon the soul of this great nation. Now its proprietors are trying to expand it onto this untainted soil. Slavery doesn’t belong anywhere, least of all in Kansas.”
Reuben nodded respectfully as Montgomery continued.
“See that tall grass around us? It was put there by the Almighty for our use. We can till it, use it for grazing, or harvest the honey, nuts, and berries that abound here. There’s plenty of wild game for the table here too. Deer, turkey, waterfowl, you name it. We’ve got everything except buffalo and you can find them a day’s ride to the west.
“All the Lord expects of us is to be good stewards. That means we take care of the land and work it in His name. If he wanted the land worked by slaves, he would have made you and me slaves. We can make this a promised land of milk and honey if we follow God’s will. So long as we are good custodians, it will sustain us for generations.
“Before I got here this was Indian country. They took care of it and left not a mark on it. Thanks to greedy Southerners, they have been forced to move on. The slavers from Missouri want to take their place and use up this land for personal gain while exploiting their fellow man. They care nothing about this land. They are here to extend the power of the slave-holding class. If Kansas comes in as a slave state, Colorado and New Mexico will become slave states too. This will give the South more seats in Congress and perpetuate their evil aims for all time. If the good Lord allows our side to prevail, the whole country will be free. You should understand that no man can be free until all men are free. I believe the Lord wants you to be on his side.”
James Montgomery was sounding a lot like Uncle Jacob. Their main difference was their domain. Uncle Jacob ministered in the safe environs of the free state of Iowa. The locals understood his aims and protected him. Taking such a stand in Kansas could get you burned out and run off the land. It might even get you killed. Men like Montgomery would put their liberty and lives on the line for a just cause.
“I didn’t come to Kansas to pick a fight. I’m here to find a place to settle on. I sold everything I had back in Iowa to get this outfit,” Reuben said pointing to the back of the wagon. “I’ve come too far now to turn back. I don’t want a fight, but I’m here and I’ll take a stand if need be.”
“Good. We need folks like you to fill Kansas up. That means fighting for your land and the end of slavery. It’s a good fight. I hope you don’t waver.”
“I can stand my ground if I have to. I hope I wont be standing alone though.”
“You won’t be alone. I’ve organized the free-state men along Sugar Creek for mutual defense. When one calls, we all respond. Three shots in quick succession bring a dozen armed men. Sometimes we organize retaliatory posses to get back at the bushwhackers. Thanks to our efforts Sugar Creek is mostly settled by free-soilers.
“We are having a meeting at my place next Thursday evening. That would be a good time for you to meet the men. You will, of course, need to convince them that you are with them to be accepted.”
“Are you saying there’s room for me on Sugar Creek?” asked Reuben.
“Funny you should ask. There’s one pro-slavery holdout from Arkansas that is about to leave. Some good folks visited him the other night and used a little persuasion. I hear he’s scared of his own shadow now. He still hasn’t paid the government for the land and you could buy out his claim with pocket money. The land is good; fertile and well-watered. His improvements aren’t much though. His cabin burned down the other night. Must have been an accident.”
Reuben winced at the idea of taking advantage of someone who had just been intimidated into leaving. He was starting to realize, however, that this was the way things got done in Kansas. The meek would not inherit this land.
“I suppose I ought to go see him then.”
“Good. Just remember when you talk to him that you’re from Putnam County, Missour-AH.”
Reuben didn’t like lying, but a white lie to accomplish the Lord’s work and get him set up in Kansas wouldn’t hurt much.
“I’m interested,” he said. “Just point me in the right direction.”
“Ok. We need to separate before we get to his place. It wouldn’t do for him to see us together. Just turn west up Sugar Creek from Sugar Mound. His place is two miles up on the left. His name is Bayliss, Tom Bayliss.”
“Well, I look forward to doing business with Mr. Bayliss.”
“Meanwhile you need to be more alert when you travel through these parts. Got any arms?”
“Musket back there,” Ruben said nodding toward the wagon box.
“Better get it out. Remember, three quick shots to summon help.”
“It’s a muzzle-loader. It may not fire all that fast.”
“Three shots,” responded Montgomery, holding up three fingers. “You might want to get a revolver. I’ll be taking my leave now. See you on Thursday.”
Chapter 1, Damn Yankee & Chap 2: Farm Boy- Damn Yankee – Outlaws, Outrages and Outright Lies (azrockdodger.com)
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Outlaws, Outrages and Outright Lies 