Chapter 5: Fort Montgomery

            There it is, Reuben thought as he rounded a bend and first gazed on Montgomery’s place. It was built against a hillside and was larger than most frontier cabins. The only visible window was on the attic level. The little window offered a commanding view of the approaches to the cabin. As Reuben rode closer the building appeared ever more formidable and foreboding. No wonder the locals called it Fort Montgomery.

            Two men were lounging on the porch. Alerted as Reuben drew near, both stood to eye him. One grabbed the barrel of a rifle that was leaning against the wall.

            Everyone in Kansas thinks he’s a fighter, Reuben thought. One of the men appeared to call for someone inside the house. Then he stepped toward Reuben.  The man with the rifle continued to watch Reuben cautiously. Reuben noted that the weapon was one of those Sharps breechloaders he had begun to covet.

            “State yer business.”

            “I’m Reuben DeLay. Mr. Montgomery invited me here.”

            James Montgomery abruptly emerged from the doorway.

            “Well, hello there young fellow. I see you made it.”

The other two men relaxed. Dismounting, Reuben tied the reins to a hitching post.

“Good to see you, Mr. Montgomery. You’ll be pleased to know I’m your new neighbor. I made a deal on the Bayliss place.”

“That’s good to know. Glad that rascal finally saw the light.”

“He seemed to have had a bit of help in reaching his decision,” Reuben smirked. “I traded him a worn-out wagon and an old horse for it. He couldn’t wait to load up and leave.”

Montgomery chuckled. “The Lord works in mysterious ways, doesn’t He? Why, a year ago Bayliss was trying to run me off. I saw him with the Border Ruffians when they burned down my old cabin.”

“That makes me feel better about the deal I got,” Reuben said as the two men approached the door.

“Gentlemen, meet Reuben DeLay from Iowa,” said Montgomery introducing him to the two men on the porch. “We’re going to make a Free-Stater out of him.”

The men exchanged greetings and shook hands.

“Come on in! The Misses is making some coffee. We’re still waiting on some of the company before we start the meeting.”

Reuben noted that the wall was about a foot thick as the two men approached the door. Unlike any cabin he’d ever seen, the logs were hewn square and set vertically. He paused for a moment to admire the work.

“Bulletproof,” said Montgomery pointing to a hole near the top of the door where a fifty-caliber ball had hit but failed to penetrate.

Reuben was impressed. Inside, the room was dark, the only outside light coming from some slits in the thick walls. They were gunports. This house really is a fort, Reuben thought. A small pile of red-hot coals glowed in the stone fireplace on the back wall of the house. Montgomery’s wife, Clarinda, picked up the coffee pot from the hearth and poured Reuben a cup.

“Milk, sugar?”

“No Ma’am, I’ll take it black,” Reuben responded. He’d need the pick-me-up if the meeting lasted into the night. He sat down at the table with Montgomery and took a sip. The aroma filled his nostrils as he touched the hot tin cup to his lips. He looked forward to what Montgomery had to say.

“Have you thought any more about getting better healed?” Montgomery queried, tapping his revolver with his fingers.

“Yes Sir, I’m off to Trading Post next week to get one. These Missourah folks are makin’ me nervous.”

“Trading Post? Be careful there. A bunch of those ruffians from Missouri hang out there.”

“I’m gittin’ good at fittin’ in with that crowd, bein’ from Putnam County, Missourah and all.”

“You’re a quick learner there, DeLay. Just be careful you don’t get someone from our side to burn you out. Best we get you acquainted as soon as possible. You will meet most of your Sugar Creek neighbors this afternoon. They are a good bunch who have hung on through some tough times. They aren’t afraid to stand up to the pro-slavery scum from Missouri.”

“Good to know Sir.”

More men had arrived outside. They were talking and making loud boasts.

“I pulled my gun on that son-of-a-bitch and told him to get the hell off of mah property.”

“Shot that bastard’s horse right out from under him!”

Reuben noted that some of the men were smoking and chewing tobacco. A flask was passed between a couple of them. These were rough frontiersmen, accustomed to course behavior and strong words. Then it occurred to him, he had never heard Montgomery swear. He was different from the men outside, but he was their leader. At Montgomery’s beckoning, the men stopped their raucous conversation and moved to the doorway, removing their hats as they entered. No one dared smoke or cuss in James Montgomery’s home.

There was a steep set of stairs into the upper loft. One by one, the men climbed through the opening above. With the lone window in the front, the loft was better lit than the ground floor. Montgomery took his place by the stone chimney. The other men grabbed chairs or stools or stood against the wall. There were a dozen men in total.

“Let us begin with prayer.”

The men bowed their heads and waited for Montgomery.

“Dear Heavenly Father, we beseech you to bless this noble group and its mission. May you empower us to drive the stain of bondage forever from this good land that you have given us. Give us, Dear Lord, the strength, and the tools we need to accomplish your will…”

Reuben felt like he was listening to one of Uncle Jacob’s sermons.

“…and protect each of us as we do your work.

In the name of the Savior, Amen!”

There was a chorus of amens from the group.

“Now let us get on with our business. Brother James, you may take the roll.”

As the Secretary called out the names, Reuben noticed something was amiss. The men were answering to different names from the ones they had just been introduced to him as. Why the pseudonyms? He wondered. Were these men in fear of associating their given names with their activities?

“Has anyone heard from Brother Walker?” asked Montgomery after the roll had been completed.

“He went to Lawrence to sell a hog,” was the answer.

“How is the plowing going? Anyone in need of help?”

Reuben figured it was too early to ask for help and didn’t answer. It was good to know that these men were available when needed. He had been to many brandings, harvests, and barn raisings in Iowa. It was encouraging to see such community efforts in Kansas. The men continued with a discussion of topics mostly of interest to farmers. Reuben cataloged this useful information in the back of his mind. It would help him make a go of his new place.

With the talk of farming in Kansas over, everyone turned toward Reuben. Montgomery’s eyes bored into him.

“Not to cause you any unease Brother DeLay, but we need to get to know you better. We will survive and hopefully prosper here because we support each other.” Montgomery swept his hand across the room. “These men have all sworn an oath to uphold our sacred cause and defend each other. Each one will gladly lay down his life to make Kansas free. Is this a cause you are willing to die for?”

“Yes,” Reuben stammered without thinking. It was a commitment that would shape the next decade of his life.

“These men have questions for you,” Montgomery said as his eyes scanned the room. A man named Bern stepped forward from his position on the wall.

“Yer from Iowa. Any kin in the South?

“No Sir, My family once lived in Virginia before moving to Ohio about 1800.”

“Any of them ever own slaves?”

“No, my Grandpa was a Methodist preacher who hated slavery. My Uncle Jacob is a conductor on the Underground through Iowa. He’s pretty good at it too.”

“How do you feel about the Fugitive Slave Act?”

“It’s a damnable law that makes us all slave-catchers. I’d go to jail before turning in someone.”

“Good. Now tell us why you came to Kansas?”

Well, mostly to find some land and get set up in life. It looks like the land in these parts comes with a few strings though. I can’t settle here without taking a side. I will be throwing my lot in with the Free-State faction.”

“Here! Here!”

“Are we ready to vote on Brother DeLay? asked Montgomery.

The men nodded. Montgomery handed out pieces of paper and a couple of pencils for a secret ballot. The men scribbled on the paper scraps and put them in a hat. Montgomery began pulling out the papers to tabulate the vote. Then he looked sternly at Reuben.

“To be admitted to this company requires a unanimous vote.”

Reuben shuddered, not daring to look around.

“Congratulations brother DeLay, you are in.”

Reuben breathed a sigh of relief.

“Administer the oath, Brother James!”

Mr. James fumbled in his pocket and brought out a sheet of paper. He beckoned Reuben to rise and stand by a small table where a Bible was sitting.

“Raise your right hand and place the other on God’s word.”

“Repeat after me, I, Reuben Delay, do solemnly swear to serve the Lord in defense of the free territory of Kansas.”

“I, Reuben DeLay do solemnly, swear…,” Rueben repeated.

“I will take up arms, as necessary, to remove the abomination of slavery.”

Reuben thought about his aging musket as he repeated this part of the oath.

“I solemnly covenant that I will never reveal the signs, grips, or secrets of this combination on pain of death…”

“I promise I will never speak ill of my fellow warriors in the fight against slavery. Nor will I reveal their names to the enemies of the Lord…”

“I take this obligation of my own free will and will suffer unto death for the cause of human liberty, so help me God.”

“…So help me God!” Reuben swore as he thought about the implications. This was a blood oath, much like the Masons and the Mormons allegedly swore. In this case, there was no doubt that the men were willing to risk their lives and fortunes for the cause.

Then Brother James demonstrated the secret signs and grips of the order to Reuben.

“Your name on the rolls will be Isaac Smythe. You will use this name any time you are conducting business with or on behalf of the company. The challenge is, ‘Where has your brother gone?’ The password is ‘Up! Up! Up!’

With Reuben’s initiation over, Montgomery called for new business.

One of the men raised his hand and asked, “When are we goin’ after that no-good tyrant Judge Davis?”

“Good question,” answered Montgomery. “We need to keep an eye on him, but right now, he’s too well placed. He has the ear of the territorial governor. I hear he’s been appointed as a captain in the militia. He’s tied in with the crowd from across the line and those bushwhackers from Bourbon County too. If we watch his place, we’ll know more about who the ruffians are and what they are up to. Meanwhile, I’ll tell Davis that if anything happens to us, his place goes up in smoke first. He needs to know we mean business.”

“I’m  good with that, but a late-night visit might be fun.”

“We don’t want to escalate the trouble any more than we have to,” counseled Montgomery. “Retribution brings on more retribution; an eye for an eye. Our goal here is to overcome them at the ballot box. That means making this place safe for more Free-State settlers. Then, and only then, the pro-slavery crowd might return to whatever part of Sodom and Gomorrah they came from. If we prevail in Kansas, the slave states will lose their power. That is how we win. We only fight to protect what is ours and see God’s will fulfilled.”

“What if they attack us again?”

“If that happens, we go after them as always. We must be careful to only go after the real enemies. I’ve got a list started.”

“Any chance we’ll get some more Bibles and Testaments from Beecher?” asked one of the men.

“Any day now.”

“Bibles and Testaments?” Reuben muttered out loud.

The man next to him elbowed him in the ribs. Smiling, he said, “You’ll find out about Beecher’s Bibles soon enough son.”

It was after dark when the meeting broke up. Mrs. Montgomery offered the men more coffee and some biscuits before they left. They took them outside where the men could smoke and swear. Montgomery remained inside.

“So, how does it feel to be sworn in for the good fight?” asked one of the men of Reuben.

“I reckon I’ll find out soon enough.”

            man- https://azrockdodger.com/2025/02/06/unbowed-the-saga-of-a-civil-war-cavalryman-index/