Lawrence State Journal
Articles in database from Lawrence State Journal: 17
H. E. Lowman & Co., publishers and proprietors
**The Journal completed its third year the last issue....The first number of the first volume was issued the 21st of February, 1861. The enterprise was inaugurated by J. C. Trask and the writer of this, and was prosecuted with most flattering results up to the period of the destruction of the city by the guerrillas.
On the 20th of August, 1863, number 27 of volume 3 was issued. It went to press just before night. A few packages for southern subscribers were sent to the post office, and a few copies had been taken from the printing office by city subscribers. The main part of the edition, however, was prepared for the post and still remained in the printing office. Mr. Trask had worked hard all day in the composing room and went home early. We remained and assisted in completing the work of preparing our lists for the mails. A railroad meeting was held at the Eldridge House that night. Mr. Winchell, representing the U.P.E.D. railroad company, was the chief speaker. When our work at the printing office was finished, we repaired to the meeting. It was then not far from half past 10 o'clock....After the meeting had broken up, we went up into the hotel and had quite a conversation with Mr. Winchell about railroad matters. It was not far from 12 o'clock when we left for home.
*When we reached the street and were bending our steps homeward, a most strange and inexpressible sense of impending danger came over us, and we retraced our steps to the office, where we had left Mr. Faris, who had assisted us in preparing the paper for the mails. The lateness of the hour and fatigue had decided him to lodge in the office that night. We stated our case and asked him to accompany us home. His boarding house being up in the same neighborhood, he cheerfully responded. We had just bound four copies of Volume 2 of the Journal, and they lay on a table in the sanctum where they had been left that day by Mr. Trich, the binder. After we had proceeded a few yards from the office, we thought of them and immediately returned,...secured a copy and carried it with us home. We had a copy of Volume 1 also at our house. So by that mere chance...we saved a complete file of the Journal for the first two volumes.
When we reached home we found it impossible to shake off the singular impression that some unseen catastrophe was at hand. We sought an explanation in the nervous irritability which follows the overtasking of the brain and muscles. But that did not soothe our mind. We could not sleep, so we sat up and read. There were things and occurrences to which we did involuntarily refer as the cause for the perturbed condition of our mind. We spoke of them to our family. Quantrell had decided to destroy Lawrence. He had gathered his forces for that purpose several times. Just previously he had rendezvoused his band not far from the border with the express design of executing that purpose. That was well authenticated. He had been thwarted at that time. But there was evidence enough that the purpose was a deliberate and fixed one, and that he would be most likely to strike when the people were the least watchful and the most certain of their safety. That time had succeeded the scattering of his band....We had not slept well for nights before. Every day we saw strange and suspicious looking people in town. That day, the 20th, our attention had been particularly attracted to men in our streets whose appearance thus expressed their character. The railroad meeting, before referred to, was held in the front of the Eldridge House. When we reached the ground and glanced over the crowd, our attention was arrested by three horsemen who sat in a careless attitude upon their horses a few yards beyond the outer edge of the people assembled. They were partially in the shadow of the buildings, but their aspect was decidedly repugnant and sinister. They were daguerreotyped upon our mind.
The street was empty and silent when we started home, but we saw these horsemen and the fancy filled us with a nameless dread. Today the impression is just as vivid and chills us with an unspeakable horror.
The little rest we had that night was very troubled. When the first gun was fired and the first unearthly chorus of yells startled the air at the opening of the terrible slaughter which will make the 21st of August, 1863, forever memorable in the annals of Kansas, we were aroused and knew without a moment's hesitation what the tumult meant.
We wakened our family and hastened to dress ourself and the children. That done we fastened up the house and, provided with bread and water, we all went down cellar, where we all remained until the devils had done their dirty work and retired. Three came to our house, broke in the door, went all through it, except down cellar, kindled a fire in our bed with a copy of the Journal which we brought home the night before, and then left us without repeating the visit. That they did not come back we think is owing to the dense smoke made by the burning bed, which we took care to keep from blazing by an occasional wetting down. It filled every part of the house, and was streaming from the windows and crevices as though the whole structure was about to burst into flame.
The last time we saw Mr. Trask alive, he was standing on the balcony out upon which the window of his bedroom opened. He was partly dressed and bare headed, and was looking up the street to the hotel, which was then surrounded by horsemen. At the same time, squads were pursuing and shooting down the flying citizens on the west side of the ravine, and 10 or more were swiftly galloping up Winthrop street toward our house.
Four or five hours passed. We comprehended fully what was transpiring around us. We had not a doubt, the first gun they fired, that they would kill every man they could find. They were hours of inexpressible agony to us. We could help no one. We could not help ourself. Momentarily expecting our hiding place would be discovered, we yet saw no safety in any attempt to seek a safer one. The constant clatter of galloping steeds and the rapidly repeated report of firearms admonished us against the adoption of any plan for increasing our personal safety, which contemplated an exposure in the streets or vacant lots surrounding.
We remained where we were, and by the interposition of a good Providence were saved.
Mr. Trask was torn from the embrace of his terror stricken wife and murdered in cold blood. The Journal office and all it contained was destroyed in the general wreck which followed. An interregnum of six weeks succeeded, and then the Journal resumed its place again among the living newspapers of Kansas.
Fifty-two numbers constitute a year in the lifetime of a weekly newspaper. The six weeks that the Journal lay burned beneath the debris of the ruin of the 21st of August are so many links out of the chain of its real existence. So the anniversary of its birth is changed forever.
We promised when we resumed its publication after the raid that it should be established upon the old basis, and that we would make it, in all respects, what it had been before. We have done what we could to fulfill that promise. We have labored under such embarrassments as were incident to the changed condition of things with us all in Lawrence, and which all who suffered will readily appreciate. We will leave our patrons to decide how nearly we have made good our word. The paper has been well encouraged by our people. Our subscription list is full as long and just as remunerative as it was before the raid. It is growing as steadily as it was then.
In a few weeks we shall be occupying a new, large, and, we hope, permanent office. We have at last received our long looked for power press, and will soon have it up and running. It is Adams' patent, and the only fine book press extant. When our present plans are completed we shall be able to introduce our friends to one of the largest, best furnished, and most complete printing offices in the state of Kansas.
We have a warm place in our hearts for those friends who have helped us. Many of them have given conspicuous evidence of their interest in our success. Most all of our old patrons have returned to us and are dealing with us most liberally. We return to them our warmest words of gratitude....
H. E. Lowman & Co., editors and proprietors
**THE LAWRENCE RAID (Death of J. C. Trask; part of a series)
...There were five in the party that rode up to Dr. Griswold's house, and they were five as treacherous, merciless and bloody wretches as ever pursued murder as a vocation. J. C. Trask and wife, Hon. S. M. Thorp and family and H. W. Baker and wife were boarding with Mr. Griswold.
Mr. Trask, who was awakened early by the hideous tumult in Massachusetts street, had dressed himself and was standing out on the roof of the piazza in front of his chamber window when the guerrillas halted by the front yard gate. They instantly leveled their pistols at him and, with horrible oaths and threats, demanded the surrender of all the men in the house. Mr. Trask begged them not to shoot into rooms where the women and children were, and he and the other men in the house would immediately obey their summons. They assured him that, if he would be quick about it, and all of the men would come out and surrender themselves as prisoners, they would be treated as such.
By this time, all the inmates of the house were up. Mr. Trask went back and sought the other men, and told them that he had stipulated with the guerrillas for their surrender. The latter (guerrillas) still remained on their horses.
Mr. Trask, Dr. Griswold and Mr. Thorp passed immediately out of the house to the front gate. Mr. Baker, who had not yet finished dressing when the others went out, followed soon and stopped on the piazza. The leader of the gang demanded their names and their business. Mr. Trask answered them frankly and fully for himself and for Mr. Baker, who had not yet gone down to the fence. Thorp and Griswold did likewise for themselves.
He then demanded their money, which they handed over without delay. Then they were ordered to come out into the street. They accompanied the order with the assurance, however, that they were only designing to march them over to town and place them under guard; and that, if they would obey without unnecessary delay and would go with them without attempting to run away, they should not be harmed.
The four victims of a misplaced faith in a bushwhacker's mercy and honor passed unhesitatingly out into the street. They were formed into Indian file. Mr. Baker at the head, Dr. Griswold next, Mr. Trask next, and Mr. Thorp in the rear. The guerrillas took their places, a horseman to each man, the horses close to the prisoners, and advanced so that the latter (prisoners) were brought just front of the shoulders of the animals. This brought each horseman just behind his prisoner, and so near to him that he could almost reach him with his revolver.
The word was given to march. They started on a moderate walk. They had proceeded only a few rods before the bushwhackers began to curse them for loitering. They quickened their step. That was the signal for the opening of the slaughter.
The guerrilla at the head of the file instantly fired at Mr. Baker. He evidently intended to shoot him through the head. But, by the interposition of a kindly presiding Fate, the aim of the fiend was made unsteady and the bullet fell below the mark, hitting him in the neck. It passed through the fleshy part of his neck without touching or injuring chord, vessel, or column leading to the center of life. The blow, nevertheless, stunned him and he reeled and fell to the ground, receiving another ball through the wrist as he was falling.
A flash would more than measure the difference in the reports of the pistols of the four treacherous and brutal bushmen. And yet the first discharge of none, except the one aimed at Mr. Thorp, it would appear from the circumstances, proved fatal.
Mr. Trask was behind Mr. Baker in the file; and yet he lay three or four rods ahead of him, and the only shot that had touched him had pierced his heart. The first shot had missed entirely and he had evidently received the fatal missile while running.
Dr. Griswold may have been wounded the first discharge, as he was hit in several places. But he had not been disabled, for he too had run and got as far as his door yard fence, and was evidently killed while attempting to climb over it.
Mr. Thorp was shot the first fire, through the abdomen. The wound proved mortal. But he lingered through two days of the intensest suffering. He and Mr. Baker fell near each other, and conversed together about their injuries whenever the demons, who for over three hours longer plied their dreadful work of havoc in the immediate neighborhood, passed far enough away to make it safe for them to do so.
By and by, however, a party rode near and one of them discovered life in one of the bodies lying prone and ghastly before them. From their conversation, they were evidently the same men who had so savagely and fiendishly shot these unarmed, unresisting prisoners.
One says to the other, "Fred, one of them d----d nigger-thieving abolitionists ain't dead yet; go and kill him." "Fred" rode forward. Neither one of the two who were still alive could tell which had betrayed himself. They were not long left in suspense, however.
The horse halted. Mr. Baker said he knew he (the bushwhacker) had stopped very close to him. It was but a breath and the pistol cracked sharply. He felt a sudden sting in the right lung. Faintness followed but he knew right where he was hit. The ball entered his back under the right shoulder and passed through his lungs. The inhuman monster then rode away, indulging in the coarsest terms of self-gratulation at the finishing hand he had laid to the bloody work commenced on that ground that morning.
How horrible the situation of these wounded men! For a long time, the cruel and merciless devils watched near them and, whenever their wives attempted to come to them, they were driven back with terrible curses and menacing pistols. When, at last, there were opportunities to get to them, they dare not go for fear that some fiend would gallop by and discover that his work there was still imperfectly performed, and proceed to finish it.
For over three hours they lay there in the burning sun of a sultry August morning, tortured with a consuming thirst, and slowly bleeding away their lives; knowing, too, full well that their friends were near, and that the greatest immediate peril they were in was from such kindly attentions as they might thoughtlessly attempt to show them.
Just before the barbarous horde left the city, a straggler made these men a parting visit. Mr. Baker was lying partially on his side. The bushwhacker, observing the location of his wounds, either supposed him quite dead, or as good as dead. He turned him up still further, took out his knife, inserted it in his pantaloons' pocket, and ripped his pants down 15 inches or more. He found nothing. Then he turned him over and opened the pocket on the other side in the same manner. Mr. Baker was perfectly conscious of the operation, and said the bushwhacker cut very carelessly, as a butcher would rip down the leg of a slaughtered bullock. Very luckily, however, his knife went no deeper than the cloth. He found nothing, of course, for the ground had been harvested and gleaned three or four times by his comrades. He insisted that Mr. Baker was a "poor devil" anyhow, but that he had a good hat which he believed he would take.
In a brief time after, the band rode out of the city and Mr. Baker and Mr. Thorp were quickly cared for. The former (Baker), being a strong and robust man, got on his feet with a little assistance and, leaning on two friends, walked to the house, which was some six or eight rods distant. After anxious days of close nursing, he recovered.
Mr. Thorp, as before noticed, survived only two days....
THE KANSAS FARMER ? The officers of the State Agricultural Society have placed the Kansas Farmer under the editorial charge of the senior of this paper. Its business affairs and publication will be henceforth under the exclusive control of the Journal office firm. The first number of Vol. 2 will be issued from this office about the 15th of this month. Its publication is delayed by various causes. One is the new arrangement was not perfected until after the middle of last month. Another is the present conductors have enlarged the paper and are issuing it in a new and entirely changed form. New material had to be procured from the East, which required time. Everything needed is now in hand and the May number is progressing rapidly towards completion....
*THE LAWRENCE RAID (More on the circumstances of J. C. Trask's death; part of a series.) H. E. Lowman & Co.
The utter ferocity of these five hardened assassins still remains but partially portrayed. With fair words and pledges which a barbarian would never have broken, they decoyed four unarmed and unsuspecting men into their power, then deliberately and atrociously proceeded to butcher them.
That was not enough to satiate their demoniac appetites for human suffering. They galloped their horses back to the house, where they had driven the wives of their victims. They dismounted and entered. What a scene! How it makes the heart ache to recall it. Four young wives, but a few moments before buoyant, hopeful, happy. Then three of them widows, crushed to the earth with a great grief; helpless, hopeless, and almost speechless with a living, enduring agony!
Into this house, filled with the wailing of hearts hopelessly crushed, came the fiends who were authors of the woe. Their hands were crimson with the hot gore of the slain. They did not come to pity. Rudely they accosted the helpless and wretched women. They wanted another man to butcher. Search satisfied them that he was not there and that, if they would be gratified by a further indulgence in the bushwhackers' pastime at that house, they must kill the women.
They threatened them fiercely. They made them produce their jewelry and valuables. The golden gifts of their slain husbands ? trifles in value, but more precious then to them than the mines of Golconda, were on their fingers. They pled tearfully for them. But the bushwhackers' hearts were stone. With rough words and rougher hands, they stripped the fingers of these suppliant women of the last mementoes of the lost loved ones. They compelled them to unlock their trunks, which they rifled of everything valuable.
After they had plundered the house and stripped its inmates of whatever they felt disposed to appropriate, then they proposed to burn it. The voice of woe pleading for a roof, for a shelter, reached some tender part of one of the demons and he interceded and saved the house from destruction. Just one deed which bears some relation to those prompted by human sensations. The rest all lurid, hellish.
And now let it be written in the history of the times that these five men were but an average sample of the whole band of 300 under Quantrell that morning. Let it also be written that they were white, that they were reared in a country radiant with the light of Christian civilization....
It is proper to remark here that the almost miraculous preservation of Mr. Baker's life, and his vivid remembrance of his own and the experiences of his murdered companions on that memorable morning, has enabled the writer to gather and present to the reader a much more particular and circumstantial statement of what occurred in and about the house of Dr. Griswold than can be made in any other instance. The demoniacal attributes of the five guerrillas who visited that house will necessarily stand out with noticeable prominence. But let it be constantly borne in mind by the reader that that is because their deeds have been more minutely recited than can be those of their comrades. What they did is presented more as an example of what their blood-thirsty fellows did all over the city....
*We are glad to...announce to our friends and patrons that our new steam press has at last arrived, and we expect to have it in complete running order within a week or so. We are continually adding to our assortment of material and have large rooms and every facility for executing all kinds of job work, in style and at prices as cheap as any other establishment west of St. Louis....
The editor of the Border Sentinel is about to get out a new edition of the Bible, revised and corrected, and also a few notes by the translator. He comments thus: "The eleventh commandment readeth thus: 'Thou shalt not carry off the editor's exchanges, unless thou are sure he is done with them; neither shalt thou talk to him when he is reading proof or writing, lest he get angry and order thee out of his sanctum; neither shalt thou occupy his chair more than a hour at a time.' Chap. xi, verse 11. And when found make a note of it."
*We have been engaged for several weeks putting up and getting in running order our steam presses. It has been a big job, but we have so far succeeded as to get our jobber in running order. Our steam book press (Adams), we expect to have in complete running order within a week. In a short time we will also have our steam newspaper press going, when further delays in the publication of the Journal, and printing which our friends and patrons may favor us with, we hope will be avoided. The work on the engine and shaft has kept us back for some time, but they are now complete....
Thos. H. Ellis has retired from the Paola Crusader....We believe he intends taking a trip East.
W. Henry, one of the publishers of the Marysville Union, has retired. It will be conducted...by Mr. Manning.
Wanted at this office immediately, two good compositors. Good pay and good "sits" given.
Mr. Mitchell has retired from the Baldwin City Observer and Mount & Hollingsworth have become the proprietors.
*DESTRUCTION OF LAWRENCE (Part of a series. Hovey E. Lowman & Co.)
...Further down the street (Massachusetts) was Mr. Brechtelsbauer's saloon. Mr. Brechtelsbauer was shot and his building fired.
Near the same place, the Tribune office was situated. The building it was in was early fired. Mr. Speer, the proprietor, had two sons who worked in the office. The eldest was over 20 and the youngest 17 years of age. The former was shot through the body and head and his remains were found in the street near the burned building. No trace of the youngest has ever been discovered....
Wm. Hutchinson, formerly a resident of this city, now a citizen of Washington, is here on a flying visit. We are glad to hear that he regrets having changed his residence. We hope that this feeling will cause him again to cast his lot with us. Mr. Hutchinson, during 1855, '56 and '57, was the Kansas correspondent for the New York Times. In that position his labors were of great benefit to us. He gave to the country, at a time when our affairs were the exciting topic of discussion, the Free State history of our contest, and did much to place our record right before the world....
*DESTRUCTION OF LAWRENCE (Part of a series.)
The Kansas State Journal building was situated on Winthrop Street, across from the livery stable, one removed from the corner of Massachusetts and Winthrop streets. It was a substantial stone building, three stories high. The first floor was occupied by Jerry Willis and family. The two upper stories were devoted entirely to the uses of the printing and book-binding business. No one lodged the night before the raid in the upper part....
The upper rooms were not entered at all by the bushwhackers, and the building was not fired directly by their hands. It caught from an adjoining building, late in the morning. It was one of the last buildings burned.
The first story was half basement and the entrance was in front, down three or four steps and through a narrow door.
The only entrance to the printing office was through an outside door, on the side of the building, reached by a flight of stairs. The passage was narrow. The door heavy and set well into the wall. Everything looked unfavorable to assault from the outside, and everything looked equally favorable for defense from the inside.
The landing made an airy and unsubstantial foothold for two or three men seeking entrance through the door by forcible measures. It was an awkward and unpleasant place to be if there should happen to be resolute tenants within, watching with arms. These appearances were palpable, and such reflections natural to the bloodiest men, who might, at the same time, not be at all rash in exposing themselves.
Mr. Willis remained indoors until near the close of the tragedy. Then he escaped without harm.
David Brown, the venerable father of G. W. Brown ? the latter the founder of the Herald of Freedom and one of the most conspicuous of the champions of the Free State cause in the early struggles of Kansas ? lived alone in a little house adjoining the Journal building. Caught in the very center of the scene where the bushwhackers were thickest, the leaden storm raged the fiercest, and the fire burned the hottest, all the time exposed to the bloody hand of the infernal spirits ruling the hour, he yet, miraculously, as it would seem, passed the ordeal untouched.
He is a veteran of (the war of) 1812, well preserved, hale and sprightly; one of the heroes who fought under Macomb at Plattsburg. Three years ago (1861), when the nation was again aroused by the tocsin of war, this old soldier...marched with and drilled the recruits, organized an artillery company, and would have gone to the field had the stiffened joints and reluctant muscles seconded the purpose of the mind....
He had two guns and a pistol. How bright he kept them! On the morning of the raid, he was up when the guerrillas came and heard the firing. For some time, he thought that good news had come to town and the boys were having a jolly time exploding firecrackers. Rapidly the tumult grew nearer and louder. The rumbling sound heard in the distance became distinct. It was the clatter of the hooves of galloping horses. The crackling sound borne on the breeze grew clear and sharp. It was not caused by exploding firecrackers. It was the ring of firearms....There was mischief out. As quietly as he could, the old soldier buckled on his pistol and went into the street. Already Massachusetts Street, which was only a few rods distant, was filled with horsemen who were shooting right and left wherever a citizen exposed himself.
He was instantly discovered and, before he had any time to gather any clear idea of the strange and startling scene before him, he was confronted by five or six fierce men with drawn revolvers. They screeched like devils but, above the din, the old man heard the demand "surrender and give up your arms." The odds were greatly against him. He did not hesitate, but complied. One of them received his pistol, another said something which seemed to imply that he knew the old man. They all rode away.
He returned quietly to his home, the door of which entered in the rear. He remained there a while. The buildings on Massachusetts Street, nearby, were on fire. The woodpile of the Journal office caught. He knew that his building, which was wood, must burn....He had time to carry out his two guns in a cover lid. He left them across the street near the ruins of Mr. Allen's building on the corner of Massachusetts and Winthrop streets, which was already in ashes.
Nearby was a young man who was badly wounded. He was begging pitifully for water. The old man got a bucket and went to a well a few steps off, drew some water, and carried it to the wounded man.
At this time, he saw the guerrillas chasing and killing men all around him. He quickly decided that was no place for him. He concealed his guns and hastened back to his room. Soon he heard two men coming. They stopped on the walk opposite his house. He suspected they were seeking entrance into it. There was no door on the front nor on the side. They would come to the rear. There was a door entering the first floor of the Journal building, just a step from his door....As he passed through, the two bushwhackers came into view around the corner of his building. They did not follow him, but entered and sifted his room of everything worth carrying off.
He remained in the stone building until everything seemed to be on fire over and around him, and then went out boldly into the street, which was full of bushwhackers. They did not at once seem to observe him. He watched them narrowly. He saw them signaling each other. The motion was uniform. He decided that it was their secret signal. Soon a party rode down upon him. He faced them unconcernedly and went through with the motions. They answered and passed on.
After that, he was around in the thickest of the murderous crew and, though savagely threatened many times, the signal he had discovered proved a complete safety guard.
*A Parting Word. This issue closes my connection with the Journal as editor and publisher, and terminates my relations as journalist with the public of Kansas....For over three years and a half I have labored zealously and assiduously to build up a newspaper in Kansas that should, in some degree, reflect the character of the "true newspaper." I have been efficiently aided by those associated with me....It is a satisfaction to know that the paper is committed to men who will maintain its character and increase its usefulness. The gentlemen who succeed to its management combine good business tact with first class editorial ability.... -- H. E. Lowman.
Salutatory. With this number it will be seen that Mr. Lowman has ceased to be connected with the Journal....If the Journal while we are connected with it shall show the same fidelity to principle under the weightiest discouragements which he showed, if it shall show the same persistence in pursuit of what is deemed to be right as he exhibited, and if at the close of our labors as journalists we shall have achieved a reputation as influential, as good, as that which he appears to have gained, we shall be gratified with our career....The disturbed state of financial affairs, the great cost of all materials, and of labor, make the present a difficult period for success in new undertakings.... -- W. S. Rankin & Co.
The Editor. It is proper to announce to the readers of the Journal that the editor proper is absent from the state, in consequence of sickness in his family, and that it has fallen to the lot of the writer to act as editor pro tem....
In future we propose to publish a daily edition of the State Journal in Lawrence. This is carrying out or original plan. Various causes have delayed us until the present time, but now all things are in readiness. Having the only steam press in the state, and every convenience for printing of every description, we flatter ourselves we can issue a paper equal to any in point of mechanical execution....
The Leavenworth Times, in speaking of our new enterprise, says: "We have received the first number of the Daily State Journal, published at Lawrence by W. S. Ranking & Co. It is a five column paper, well printed, and presenting a mechanical appearance superior to any daily in the state outside Leavenworth.'
Home Again. After an absence of nearly three weeks, to which we were suddenly summoned by affliction, we have returned to assume the duties of our position. During our absence the Journal has been conducted by a friend who kindly consented to do so....During our absence, under the pressure of the political duties of the state and presidential campaign, our friends deemed it necessary to start a daily paper. Such an enterprise, at this time, when labor and material commands the highest price, unless it receives the strong and active support of its friends, is likely to become a burden to its proprietors. We shall endeavor to make it worthy of the encouragement and support of the community....
"The Lawrence State Journal is now issued daily. It is not 'printed on the only steam press in the state'." -- Bulletin. It was so when we claimed it. We are glad to see this evidence of your worldly prosperity.
Our Duty. It will be not only inconvenient but a great sacrifice on every member of the militia of this state to leave his home and...business duties to go into the field. It is, however, necessary that it should be done. It is only a question with the people whether they united will go out to meet, fight and repel the enemy or, scattered at home, allow the enemy, unmolested, unopposed, to wander wheresoever he may with his destroying hand....
Our boys having gone to the war, we were unable to issue a daily today. We shall only be able during the present excitement to issue a bulletin containing the news. We have made arrangements to secure the latest and best news from the militia in the field....
The Conservative has changed hands. Weightman has retired and a Mr. John Wright has taken the concern. It now goes for Clarke instead of Lee, and mixes the names of Lane and Wilder together most harmoniously. This indicates that Lane and Wilder have fixed up their matters. Wilder, while on the way here, denounced Lane unmercifully....
D. R. Anthony was violently assaulted at the county convention in Leavenworth. The cause of the assault originated in some severe criticisms made by Mr. Anthony in the Bulletin, and in a speech at the convention.
Our Lawrence boys have returned home. They arrived on the cars from Wyandotte at one o'clock Monday. General Deitzler arrived with them. Last night, Price, with his force, was 25 miles below Kansas City in full retreat. All our militia are relieved from duty and allowed to return home except the militia from Miami, Bourbon and Linn Counties, and one regiment from Leavenworth....Kansas is now out of danger. General Pleasanton arrived in time to save it. Martial law is revoked and the people can now resume their business. As a general thing the militia have behaved nobly....They made a wall of fire that checked the enemy until Pleasanton hurled his legions upon them and drove them flying and disordered from our border.
We have ceased the issue of the Daily Journal. Such is the price of material and labor at this time that we cannot publish it without sacrifice. When spring comes, the railroad opens, and trade revives, an opportune time will come, we believe, to start that enterprise successfully. The weekly Journal will be issued regularly....