H. Miles Moore talked to other Kansans and learned how they felt about he and his Missourian comrades hijacking the election:
I had a conversation with several free State men who resided in Leavenworth city and its vicinity, in which they stated that they were disgusted with the manner in which the election was being conducted, and that the free State men would not vote, but would contest the election.
tried to persuade them to vote, and their reply was that the people of Missouri were controlling the election, and they would not take part in it.
Moore’s own opinions of the Missourian effort evolved, as mentioned previously. I don’t know that he came around to agree with his fellow Kansans that they should have sat out the election, but he had moved away from his past justification of the electoral theft.
That change of heart had consequences for Moore. As a man of prominence, a member of Leavenworth’s town association, his activities drew the eye far more than those of some farmer out in the wilderness. Even if he did not take a leading role in antislavery efforts in the territory, Moore’s position painted a target on his back:
In consequence of my determination at this time to act thereafter with the free State party I became obnoxious to the pro-slavery men, both in Missouri and in the Territory. My person and property has been frequently threatened with violence and destruction by them for six months or more past.
Moore did not content himself with a position as a prominent local citizen, though. Making himself obnoxious to the proslavery party included taking up a position in the illegal free state government formed in response to and rejection of the legal, but fraudulently elected, territorial government. I don’t want to leap too far ahead of the narrative, but Moore’s testimony does so and includes an incident that makes more sense to include here than to wait on:
On Wednesday, May 28, 1856, I was arrested while standing at my office door, about noon, by Major Warren D. Wilkes, who had a posse with him of some twenty or twenty-five men, armed with United States muskets and bayonets. At the time of the arrest, I was conversing with Marcus J. Parrot and Hon. John Sherman, a member of the Kansas investigating committee of the House of Representatives. This posse marched down the street in a column in platoons of four, and when they reached my office they faced about and formed a line, with shouldered muskets. A man by the name of Eli Moore, who has been, and I think is now, deputy sheriff of this county, approached with Major Wilkes, and pointed out to him Mr. Parrot and myself. Major Wilkes said to us, “Gentlemen, I have to arrest you temporarily.” Mr. Parrot said to Mr. Sherman, “What shall we do?” Mr. Sherman said, “I can do nothing; I am powerless in this matter.”
This puts the lack of testimony from the Eleventh District in some context.
The freshman congressman John Sherman with whom Moore spoke sat on the Howard Committee. He went on to serve Ohio as a senator and later on authored the Sherman Antitrust Act. He also had a brother by the name of William who quite overshadows him in the historical memory.
A. Macauley got inside the Platte County Self-Defense Association’s meeting and could report on what they said firsthand. H. Miles Moore didn’t have quite that level of access, but he got the information all the same. He also witnessed and participated in their public activities in Kansas. He confesses:
I had believed that the Missourians had had some justification for endeavoring to come and control the territorial legislation, in order to afford more security to their slave property in Missouri, and for that reason I had come with them
But just like Joseph Potter, Moore changed his mind about these things. Like Potter, he came to find the spectacle of Missourians overruling actual Kansans distasteful. He participated with them, even though he settled in Kansas way back in September, 1854, and went all the way with them. He says they were right to do as they did and meddle with the territorial legislature, but eventually they demanded too much. In Moore’s case, they flooded over the border to decide an election for so trivial a matter as locating a county seat:
their course with regard to the mere local election for county seat was so high-handed an outrage upon the rights of the people of the Territory, of whom I had then become one, that I came to the resolution that I would no longer act with a party so regardless of the rights of others that they would interfere in a matter in which they could have no personal or political interest. I determined to act with the free State party so long as they were actuated by what I considered proper motives, though I would have continued to act with the pro-slavery party had they not acted as they did.
Once Moore went over to the free soil side, he went as thoroughly as most. He spends no time in his testimony denouncing slavery, but reported freely on the level of organization taking place in Missouri:
For seven weeks previous to the election in the Territory, on the 30th of March, 1855, meetings of the Platte county self-defensive association were held in Platte County. I also learned that like meetings were being held in all the border counties of Missouri, to make arrangements to come over to the Territory to attend the election for members of the legislature and vote. I know that secret meetings of what was called the Blue Lodge were held in the Masonic Lodge room in Weston. I saw persons going up, and I learned from members of the association that their objects and plans were to come over to the Territory and vote on the 30th of March, 1855. I did not myself belong to that association. From what I have heard said, I have good reason to believe that the nominations for the pro-slavery party for members of the legislature were decided upon at these secret meetings at Weston and Platte City, so far as the fifteenth and sixteenth districts were concerned. For two or three days previous to the election large companies formed through the City of Weston, en route for the Territory
It would tickle my fancy a bit, in a seven degrees of proslavery ideology way, if Moore got his inside information from A. Macauley. But he did not name his sources and could have heard from anybody. He did, however, spot an older acquaintance of ours:
I saw a company under David R. Atchison as they passed through Weston, and some of them told me they were going to Nemaha or the eighteenth district.
I expect to have more to report on those exploits when I reach the district itself. But back on the organization front:
I also learned that they were from counties of Missouri on the north side of the Missouri river, were to go to the district on the north side of the Kaw river, and those on the north side went to the north side.
They even had assignments. Every time I read something like this in the testimony I regret more strongly my previous skepticism about the border ruffians having a united organization. But just in case they came up short, the Missourians had one more trick up their sleeve to get men into Kansas in a hurry:
The steamboat New Lucy was lying at the levee at Weston, and we chartered her to bring down from eighty to one hundred for $2.50, round trip, meals included. I think each man paid his own fare on the boat, as this was considered rather a luxurious way of travelling here.
Don’t just steal the election, steal it from the comfort of a riverboat. How else would one make the next telegraphing of Lifestyles of the Rich and Proslavery?
And Moore repeats what we heard elsewhere about financing all of this, except for the individual fares on the New Lucy:
As regards the other companies, money was raised to pay their expenses, or a portion of them, to buy their provisions and outfit, by voluntary contributions from those who could not come, but were friendly to the cause.
They had this operation planned and organized like professionals.
Joseph Potter had one other peculiarity to share about happenings in the Fifteenth District. That peculiarity concerned not the spectacle of a member of the congressional committee tasked with investigating Kansas troubles including a contributor to the same troubles, but rather Potter himself.
Potter lived his life, at least up through 1856, in the Border South. He came to Kansas from Missouri honestly, back in October of 1854. He voted in the election for delegate back in November and supported the proslavery Missourians’ favorite, John Wilkins Whitfield. Nobody had to take him by the lapels and shake him. No one threatened him. Nobody stuck a gun in his face. Potter honestly preferred the proslavery candidate that day.
This already puts him in rare company among Howard Committee witnesses, so far as I’ve seen. Very few proslavery men seem to have come to testify. Most of those appear to have held elected office in Kansas at the time and so their absence would have probably have made them look quite guilty. They generally adopt the line that nothing untoward happened or blame the free state men for any trouble. Now and then one makes an attempt to justify discrepancies between the poll books and the census by appeal to recent immigration or accuse the February snows of preventing an accurate count.
Potter’s notoriety on that front, however, goes only so far:
I voted for General Whitfield at his first election, but on the 30th of March I fell over the fence and became a free-State man.
Did he really change his mind that day? Nobody stopped him from voting and so earned his spite. Nobody threatened him, but
I got over the fence that day because I thought we had men enough in Kansas to regulate our own affairs, and would have preferred to do so, and I fell over the fence in consequence of seeing so many there I thought were non-residents.
The Howard Report claims that Border Ruffian election stealing alienated previously unaligned Kansans, but here we have an example of it saying so in his own words. Potter must have seen much the same back at the November election. The committee appears to have asked him about that, prompting a fascinating consideration of how Potter came to think differently before proverbial straw broke his back:
I was at the election at Pensenau’s on the 29th of November, 1854, and voted for General Whitfield. I saw some strangers there, but they did not throw me over the fence, as the sight of strangers on the 30th of March did, because I had not then begun to study into matters right. I do not know that the charge was made that I was a free-soiler before the 30th of March, though I must say I began to get pretty tolerably softened on that subject before then. I had begun to look into public affairs, and had about come to the conclusion that I would rather live in a free State than a slave State. I had come to that conclusion pretty much before I went to the election of the 30th of March, though I had not fallen over the fence then.
Potter lived previously in Kentucky and Missouri, both of which had consolidated slavery regimes. Kentucky had a notable debate over emancipation early in the 1850s, and the institution may have struggled to dominate Missouri, but in both states it formed a part of everyday life. It makes sense that Potter would just take it for granted and in such a place he might have had trouble finding antislavery arguments even if he had previous doubts. But removing to a place where the white populace had not clearly decided on slavery, where he did have access to antislavery opinion, and where he could literally see slaveholders and their supporters come over the border and overrule his right to self-government apparently generated a political awakening in him.
Frustratingly, Potter doesn’t go into detail about his change. It seems clear that he did not think slavery itself immoral, though he may have. He doesn’t treat us to any consideration of the fate of the slave. To the degree he speaks of motivation at all, it relates to Missourians coming in and dictating to him who should staff his government and what policy it should have. This immediately invites connection to Southern localism with its attendant suspicion of outsiders and distaste for their meddling in domestic affairs, but it would not do to take the Southern association too far. Northern fears of the slave power conspiracy appealed to something very similar, though they often cast the outsiders in more economic and political terms as slaveholding despots rather than by geographic association. Furthermore, though the antislavery movement never reached the heights to which the proslavery movement did in asserting local supremacy over national law, they did occasionally talk about nullifying things like the Fugitive Slave Act. Wisconsin’s high court went beyond talk, ruling it unconstitutional and thus unenforceable in the state. The Taney Court, of course, disagreed.
The Fifteenth District, part 1
One could leave the Fifteenth District right here, but the testimony includes some novelties worth noting. These come to us by way of Joseph Potter. E.R. Zimmerman told us how each group of Missourian filibusters who arrived received cheers and heard speeches. Zimmerman, however, remained inside the polling place all day and so didn’t catch the speeches himself. Potter did:
I saw Major Oliver there, from Ray county, and I think Laban Withers, from Platte County. [...] Major Oliver made us a fine speech.
The Howard Report helpfully identifies Major Oliver:
Many of the Missourians were known and are named by the witnesses. Several speeches were made by them at the polls; and among those who spoke were Major Oliver, one of your committee
Awkward. Mordecai Oliver eventually authored the Howard Committee’s minority report. You can see him in the picture, sitting on the left. His name appears several times posing questions to witnesses, so he must have sat in the room and heard Potter tell him to his face what he had done in Kansas the year before. The testimony does not include the questions he posed, but to judge from Potter’s answer in the following, he asked for a summary of his words that day:
The first position Major Oliver took on that occasion was, to guaranty peace to us all. He was called on to speak by a number. I think the Major urged upon all present to use no harsh words; expressed the hope that nothing would be said or done to wound the feelings of the most sensitive on the other side. I think the speech was a first-rate speech, and was a peace speech. [...] I took no exception to anything the Major said in his speech. The Major made a very fine speech, and a peaceable speech; and said that he felt that all were brothers, whether free-State or pro-slavery men, and that all had an equal right to vote; and undertook to guaranty that if there were free-State men there, they would be protected in their rights, as would the others.
Big of Oliver, but in reading this we must remember that no free-State ticket existed to vote for in the district that day. You could come up and vote for the Missourians proslavery ticket or you could come up and vote for the Missourians’ proslavery ticket. Lest one think Oliver just trying to avert violence and make the best of a bad situation, Potter made clear Oliver’s politics:
Major Oliver gave us some grounds, I think based on the Missouri compromise, in regard to the right of voting. I was in no fix to listen to a speech as a man ought to, for I was somewhat sick and did not pay attention.
But even sick, Potter recalled enough:
I think Major Oliver excused the Missourians for voting, but I do not recollect upon what grounds.
In light of this, we clearly have Oliver getting up and cheerfully inviting everyone to come vote for the ticket he himself prefers. Though it may take us great struggle, I think we could all achieve such a heroic feat of magnanimity.
That said, Oliver got his way. Potter testified that he
saw no one prevented from voting. I heard no threats made in regard to voting.
Edmund R. Zimmerman reported to his post as judge of the election for the Fifteenth District the afternoon before the election. He stayed the night and saw the campfires of the small legion of Missourians who came to vote. Come morning, only one of his two counterparts appeared.
The strangers commenced crowding around the polls, and insisted upon having the polls opened. The residents left when the crowd came up.
Legal voters or no, Zimmerman and his fellow judge had a job to do. They settled on a third man to join them and appointed a pair of clerks. But then trouble began anew:
I had considerable difficulty in getting the other judges to commence the election. They would go out and whisper to the crowd outside; both of the other judges were pro-slavery men. I finally told them there was no necessity for deferring the matter longer, and we should open the polls.
One wonders what they hoped to gain by dragging things out. Maybe they intended to have the crowd riled enough to get Zimmerman to resign? Or maybe they were coordinating with the crowd on how to handle the actual voting? Zimmerman gives us nothing to go on. Either way, they had yet to reach the controversies over oaths and the like which had stalled other districts. The judges passed over those difficulties quickly, agreeing not to scrutinize votes excessively and settling on a short oath for dubious voters.
The first man who came up, when the oath was put to him, answered, “I’m here.”
This satisfied the proslavery judges, but not Zimmerman. To appease him, they insisted that the man swear to his actual residency in the district. In other districts, this kind of thing courted violence. In the Fifteenth, the voter grumbled and swore. Precedent set,
A number would come up, and when the oath was put to them, would say they had a claim, or held a claim, or owned a claim, or was there, or something of that sort.
All then took the oath anyway.
As they came up from their wagons they had hemp in their button-holes, and the pass-word that day was, “All right on the hemp.” A greater portion of the time there were men stationed where the votes were received and would examine the men as they came up, and would announce that they were “all right on the hemp.” I do not recollect that a man voted that day but what had hemp in his button-hole, or on his hat, or some other place where it could be seen. I did not go out to see any of the delegations coming in, but I heard it announced that delegations were coming in, and I would hear cheers, &c.
The plantation belt in Missouri grew mostly hemp. If that obvious inference doesn’t suffice, then Zimmerman provided more direct evidence of the border ruffians’ politics:
There was a great deal of drinking and swearing that day; cursing the abolitionists'; and some intimated at the polls that I ought to be taken out, but none interfered with me further than threats.
They needed go no further as the only candidates on the ballot stood on the proslavery ticket. Briefly two tickets existed, one of proslavery men chosen by Kansans and one proslavery men chosen by Missourians but, as in the Fourteenth District, the Missourian proslavery ticket prevailed. The free-staters thought about organizing a campaign, but knowing full well that the Missourians would swamp out their legal votes they abandoned the idea.
The Missourians did, however, have to suffer crushing disappointment:
Not finding any abolitionist to fight that day, having expressed a strong desire to find one to whip, they got fighting among themselves. I saw one old grey-headed man, about fifty-five or sixty years of age, and a boy about ten years of age by his side crying. The old man was all bloody, having been beaten. Those men were armed, and one of them brandished a pistol in the window before my face. The man was drunk, and put the pistol in the window, with pointing it at me, though he said he would like to kill him an abolitionist.
They threw a fight and no one came, so they had to make their own fun.
The remaining precinct of the Fourteenth District, Doniphan, brought no former senators pledging to kill every abolitionist in the territory. Nor did the Missourians who came there try to bring a house down on the election judges. It appears nobody even got shot at or beaten. Richard Tuck testified that
There were no political fights or disturbances that day.
The Missourians still came and still stole the election, of course. Both sides claimed that they had a majority of the genuine settlers in the precinct, suggesting a fairly even split. In such a situation, even a few fraudulent voters could change the outcome. Missouri provided two to three hundred reliable proslavery men.
They came, as elsewhere, in a group that told of considerable organization and investment:
They had tents, wagons, and plenty of arms. Their arms were double-barrelled shot-guns, pistols, bowie-knives, and rifles. Each man seemed well armed. They had plenty of provisions, and whiskey and brandy together. They had either three wagons of provisions, or drove up one wagon three times.
None of that sets them apart from other groups of border ruffians, but I’ve let the point pass for a while and thought it worth reemphasizing. An organized, planned campaign stole the election. The occasional references to military ranks among the leaders of the Missourians may have referred to past appointments, but also spoke to the fact that the rank and file constituted willing members of a paramilitary expedition. They deserve the name filibuster as much as anybody who went off to Cuba, Mexico, or Nicaragua.
With regard to those guns, Tuck told the Howard Committee
They did not tell me why they brought so many arms.
They stacked their arms up under the house they voted in. They voted in Mr. Foreman’s store. It was a frame building, a foot and a half high from the ground. They staid [sic] there all day, until they got ready to go home in the evening. They commenced stacking their arms under the building, and filled the space so well, that if there was any more room there I did not see it.
And whilst voting
They had as many arms as they could well carry; some of them had their pockets full of pistols.
With regard to the presence of firearms, one must make allowances for the nineteenth century frontier. Those allowances can go too far, though. Tuck came from Missouri himself and he clearly thinks the Missourians unusually well-armed. When someone hailing from essentially the same gun culture declares the border ruffians armed to the teeth, we should take that seriously. They didn’t just come packing, they came loaded down even by contemporary standards of the state they hailed from.
In such a situation, one can well imagine that few people raised a stink about the occasional enthusiast who thought one vote did not suffice:
Sometimes a man would go up and vote, and then go back and change his hat or coat, and sometimes both, and then go up and vote again. They would halloo out a different name every time. I saw some of them vote as many as eight or nine times, and one man might have voted a dozen times. Some three or four men were pursuing this course of voting.
By Tuck’s estimate, only thirty to forty of the men at the polls had a legal right to vote in the territory. Three extra voters alone gave the proslavery side a minimum of twenty-four extra votes.
G.A. Cutler told us that no less a figure than David Rice Atchison himself came over to the Wolf River precinct of the Fourteenth District to ensure the election of proslavery men to the legislature. He and his Misosurians also convinced the local proslavery men to change their support to the Missourian’s preferred candidates, including Atchison’s lieutenant’s brother, J.H. Stringfellow. Cutler didn’t see or didn’t recognize Stringfellow’s brother Benjamin Franklin Stringfellow, but other witnesses put him in the Fourteenth District that day as well. Cutler also testified that he saw no violence.
Maybe at Wolf River everything went fine. Bleeding Kansas or no, the Missourians did not necessarily have to conduct themselves violently to get their way. Success through intimidation gave them far less cause to do so. But the Fourteenth District had other precincts. A.A. Jamison saw more at Burr Oak, beginning with the Missourian’s arrival:
There was a firing of fire arms during the evening until late in the night. I saw them passing as I was at the road. The next morning the firing begun again.
Jamison does not say that, at least so far, the Missourians shot at anything and people, then and now, do sometimes shoot their guns in celebration or to signal to one another. But firing off guns in large numbers sent a message about the group’s willingness to use them more deliberately. Continuous fire of guns sounds much more like a ballistic telegraph spelling out ‘we mean business and will shoot you if you get in the way’ than a group of well-lubricated men simply having a good time.
The free staters withdrew their ticket, but the Missourians resolved to make the withdrawal stick. Jamison testifies that
There was a party selected towards evening of good fighting men to stand and protect the polls until they were closed and they saw that all was right. Their reason for forming such a fighting party, as they said themselves, was, that they were afraid the free State men would come in and vote towards evening.
The free state men might vote in the election. Obviously, this could not stand. Did those men, or any others, see any action? Apparently so:
The threats I heard after the free State ticket was withdrawn, were not to take life. I saw some fighting by fisticuffs. I saw a man about five minutes after he had been shot, but I did not see it done. I saw others who had their heads badly cut with clubs and stones.
Fights happen and the Missourians had enough alcohol to lubricate their fists, but this sounds a bit beyond regular brawling. Jamison didn’t see the fights themselves and didn’t testify to how they came about, but from context he seems to believe they came out of the political dispute. I wouldn’t call that conclusive, but it certainly looks bad for the Missourians.
David Rice Atchison and his personal army of Missourians succeeded in convincing the proslavery Kansans of the Wolf River precinct to support his candidates instead of their own, including the brother of his favorite lieutenant, John H. Stringfellow. The other Stringfellow, of course, helped Atchison establish the organization that facilitated the Missourian election stealing and other, not always successful, efforts to police white antislavery sentiment. That job done, most of them moved on to other districts. All of this took place on March 29, 1855, the day before the elections for territorial legislature.
Dr. G.A. Cutler continues the story:
The next day the election commenced at Wolf river in very good order, and everything went on right for about two hours. The ice was running in the Missouri river, and none could get across till ten or eleven o’clock.
The usual story began thereafter. A Missourian named Felix Blakely came up to vote and a judge refused him.
There was a great deal of disturbance; Mr. Richardson [the refusing judge] was threatened considerably; they threatened to whip him if he would come out of doors, and wanted to do it in where he was, and he finally resigned.
Applying the punishment of slaves to a white man communicates very well the depth of the Missourians’ loathing for anybody with a whiff of antislavery about them. Richardson took the hint and resigned. The Missourians put up the usual proslavery judge who took every vote without question. Cutler, who stood for election as a free state man, saw no sense in remaining at the polls and left. He even told friends not to bother, since the Missourians had the numbers to steal the election anyway.
What about contesting the election?
I heard a great many threats in regard to contesting that election. Major General Richardson said, in a crowd in Doniphan, that myself and office should be thrown into the Missouri river if I contested the election or sent a protest against it. We all believed that if a second election was held it would be a bloody one. I afterwards heard threats against the governor of the Territory-that if he failed to sign the certificates he should not live two hours. I heard these threats in Doniphan and in Missouri. I also received an anonymous letter, stating that if I contested the election I should be put out of my misery, or something to that effect. These threats were frequent.
But those threads did not see execution:
I saw no violence offered to any voter, except doubling up of fists, &c.; no blows struck.
Of course the proslavery men got their way. We know that in other districts they had it in them to do the violence they threatened, if not quite to the point of cleansing the territory of abolitionists. We can’t know if the Missourians at Wolf River would have gone the whole way if further frustrated, but Richardson took them seriously enough to resign and Cutler himself opted not to contest the election. In light of that, it makes more sense to take the threats as credible statements of intent.
Much of this series has repeated the same story over again: Missourians flooded over the border into Kansas and stole its elections by casting illegal votes. When opposed, they escalated things to threats and pointed to the large stockpiles of weaponry they brought with them. If that didn’t work, and it appears that the threats of violence alone usually sufficed, they would escalate further to actual violence. At times they manhandled people. At times they opened fire. Once they even tried to bring a house down on top of recalcitrant judges of the election. The Howard Committee couldn’t tell what happened in the Eleventh District. Though common, Missourian electoral hooliganism did not extend everywhere. It did not reach the Twelfth District at all. The Howard Committee reported that
The election in this district was conducted fairly. No complaint was made that illegal votes were cast.
The Thirteenth District reverted to type. When the judges would not take dodgy votes, the Missourians threatened to tear down the house. The judges took the better part of valor and left, which freed the Missourians to set up their own judges. They did so and then all went smoothly. The free-state voters stayed away.
Which brings us to the Fourteenth District and its thirty-five witnesses. I have to slow down and take this one in more detail for reasons that shall soon become obvious. There the Missourians came, as usual, and Dr. G.A. Cutler testified that at the Wolf River Precinct
There was considerable whiskey demolished. They were all armed to the teeth.
Firearms and alcohol go together exceptionally well, if one’s goal is mayhem. Fairness, however, requires us to keep in mind that most nineteenth century gatherings of men involved quite a bit of alcohol. Cutler quickly moves beyond the tired old news and into something novel:
This crowd was under the command of General Atchison.
Atchison, as in David Rice Atchison Missouri’s very recently former Senator who helped make all of this possible and saw in Kansas a way to save his career as well as his slaves. Atchison and the Missourians would not leave Kansas to the Kansans. They wouldn’t even trust the territory to the proslavery Kansans:
The proslavery citizens there wished to have Mr. Thomas Vandersluyee and Joel Ryans; and Atchison’s company wanted Stringfellow and Kirk elected. They could not agree very well.
An Atchison wanted a Stringfellow for elected office? One might think he meant Benjamin Stringfellow of Negro-Slavery, No Evil (parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7) fame. Atchison instead preferred John H. Stringfellow, Benjamin’s brother. That Stringfellow then lived in Kansas, at the town of Atchison.
Both sides of the dispute, good proslavery men, knew they had a common interest. Why not come together?
A man got up and made a speech and as near as I can recollect his words, he said: “Gentlemen, we want to unite on one ticket. There are 1,100 coming over from Platte county, and if that ain’t enough we can send you 5,000 more. We came to vote, and we are going to vote, or kill every God-damned abolitionist in the district. I think he said “district” but it was “district” or “territory”. I asked a man nigh to me, a stranger, who that was, and he said it was old Davy Atchison.
Atchison and his people came here to save slavery? Can’t you good proslavery sorts see that? And if they can’t vote, they and their thousands will kill all the abolitionists. What more can they do? Why not vote for their candidates? This apparently convinced the proslavery Kansans, as Cutler tells us that they settled on Stringfellow and Kirk.