Wilson Shannon Calls out the Militia

Samuel Jones

Samuel Jones

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The Hunt for Jacob Branson: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

The Lawrence Revolt: parts 1, 2, 3

At Franklin, on the morning of November 27, 1855, Sheriff Samuel Jones fired off a letter to Governor Wilson Shannon. I haven’t found a copy of it, but Shannon’s subsequent correspondence makes its contents clear. On receiving the letter, he wrote orders for Major General William P. Richardson of the Kansas militia, a Blue Lodge man from way back, and Adjutant General H. J. Strickler. He told both militia officers that he had word from Jones about the Branson affair, wherein

he was met by an armed force of some forty men, and that the prisoner was taken out of his custody, and open defiance bid to the laws. I am also duly advised that an armed band of men burnt a number of houses, destroyed personal property, and turned whole families out of doors in Douglas county; warrants will be issued against these men, and placed in the hands of the sheriff of Douglas county for execution. He has written to me demanding three thousand men to aid him in executing the process of the law, and the preservation of the peace.

Jones at least doubled the number of men he faced, but houses burned and families fled. Wood and his men did swear to ignore the laws of the territory and their officers. However much we sympathize with the free state party, we must admit that this looks like a very serious situation. Responding with overwhelming force to prevent further anarchy must have seemed entirely reasonable. Shannon ordered Richardson and his command, as well as whoever Strickler could manage in his unorganized portion of the state, to

collect together as large a force as you can in your division, and repair without delay to Lecompton, and report yourself to S.J. Jones, the sheriff of Douglas county, together with the number of your forces, and render to him all the aid and assistance in your power, if required in the execution of any legal process in his hands.

Wilson Shannon

Wilson Shannon

If this all sounds strange, then consider that in times of civil disturbance we still call out the National Guard for such things. When things really go badly, or in the face of heavy local defiance, presidents have dispatched the regular Army for the same role. To order out the troops risked escalation, a danger Shannon keenly appreciated. He made it clear to Richardson and Strickler that

The forces under your command are to be used for the sole purpose of aiding the sheriff in executing the law, and for no other purpose.

That proviso suggests both an awareness that things could slip quickly out of control and a wariness of the use of military companies for police purposes. It might also speak to a wariness about Jones. Wilson Shannon aimed to put many men under his command, but took pains not to write Jones a blank check. His wariness of the sheriff appears more explicitly in the account he wrote the next day for Franklin Pierce:

The force required by the sheriff is far beyond what I believe to be necessary, and, indeed, far beyond what could be raised in this Territory. From five to eight hundred men will be amply sufficient, I have no doubt, to protect the sheriff, and enable him to execute the legal process in his hands.

That may still sound like a great multitude, but back at the beginning of October 557 men voted for Andrew Reeder in Lawrence alone. The town must have had around that many able-bodied free state men bent on some kind of resistance, if not necessarily to the point of violence.

 

The Hunt for Jacob Branson, Part Eight

Samuel Newitt Wood

Samuel Newitt Wood

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The Hunt for Jacob Branson: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

With Jacob Branson out of his control, at least for the moment, Douglas County Sheriff Samuel Jones saw fit to identify himself and state his business. He had a warrant for Branson and the law on his side. Samuel Wood and his free state men had to yield. If Jones expected that argument to work, he hadn’t paid much attention to the news. For months, antislavery Kansans promised defiance of Kansas’ established authority and laws, declaring them not binding on any free state man thanks to the numerous undemocratic impositions entailed in those laws and in electing the officials who put them in place. He got from Wood’s men exactly the answer he probably expected:

He was told that we knew of no Sheriff Jones; that we knew of a postmaster at Westport, Missouri, by that name, but knew of no Sheriff Jones. We told him that we had no Douglas County in Kansas, and what was better, we never intended to have.

Samuel Jones

Samuel Jones

Jones could take his sheriff’s commission and his county and repose them in the customary place. But the group did allow Jones to try to arrest Branson, if he really insisted. The sheriff pointed to his warrant again. What did they expect, for him to just ignore his lawful duty?

S.N. Wood said he was Branson’s attorney; that if he had a warrant to arrest him, he wanted to see it, and see if it was all right. Jones said he had it, but refused to show it. Wood asked him if it had been read or shown to Branson. Jones admitted that it had not, when he was told that, until he produced the warrant, Branson could not go with him.

Wood had the legal training to assess the document, whether he meant the request seriously or not. Either way, he went back and forth with Jones for more than an hour. Wood declines to narrate it, save for the end where Jones and his men leave. Branson can’t shed any further light on the conversation, since his rescuers told him to go inside Abbott’s house. Wood continues with the reaction his men had to their victory. They “immediately organized” and appointed officers. Wood became Captain Wood.

We had eight guns and two revolvers. I shook hands with the most and counted the opposite party. There were fifteen of them, each with a rifle and revolver. I made a memorandum of the above names [of his party] at the time. I was the only citizen of Lawrence engaged inn the rescue.

George W. Brown

George W. Brown

As matters concluded, several other antislavery Kansans rode up. Wood had gone on ahead without some reinforcements. They must have caught up with him. Together, the party rode the remaining five miles to Lawrence and arrived at dawn.

For the time, an organized free state group had done what they for so long promised. While they had before proclaimed their defiance of the bogus laws and bogus legislature, but their defiance lived in the realm of rhetoric. They had written a constitution and established a provisional government. George Brown broke the law and dared proslavery men to come for him. But now a group of antislavery Kansans had done the deed in person, looking in the eyes of their enemy, and come out the victors.

 

“Not a man of you shall leave alive” The Hunt for Jacob Branson, Part Seven

Samuel Newitt Wood

Samuel Newitt Wood

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The Hunt for Jacob Branson: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Two rods separated Samuel Newitt Wood and his twenty or so free state men from Samuel Jones and his about a dozen proslavery men. That meant not that someone left rounded sticks in the road but rather a unit of distance now obscure. A rod runs five and a half yards long, so two rods make for eleven yards or thirty-three feet. That sounds awfully close for two large parties of armed men, but presumably neither party proceeded at a gallop to be heard from afar nor rode with torches or lanterns to aid in their spotting.

Whatever the distance, Jones’ men did not eagerly ride up into a hastily-gathered band of armed men in their way. Branson described their appearance:

When we were within about half a mile of Blanton’s bridge, I saw some men who appeared to come from behind a house; and as we were going on at a pretty smart canter they stretched out across the road where we were, I should suppose about fifty yards from the house. Those men were on foot. Those men who were with me then spurred on, presenting their guns, leaving me a little behind, until they got within twenty or thirty feet of those men, and as they did not give way, they halted.

After a moment of tense silence, Jones called out in the traditional greeting of cartoon rabbits: “What’s up?”

I heard someone from the other party say, “That’s what we want to know; what’s up?” I then spoke, and said; “They have got me here a prisoner.” One from the other party said: “Is that you, Branson?” I said it was, and he told me to come over to the other side.

Wood reports a slightly different version of the exchange, but the words align closely enough that I don’t think either man saw fit embellish things. Jones’ posse, having taken such trouble to arrest Branson and demolish some alcohol along the way back, didn’t just shrug that off:

Two men were by me then, and one said: “Don’t you go, or we will shoot you.” I told them to shoot if they wanted to, as I was going. I then rode forward, and got to the other company, and got off my mule, and asked what I should do with it. Some one said, “let it go to hell;” and I let go of it, and some one gave it a kick, and it went back towards Jones’s party.

Wood adds some encouragement from himself and his companions for Branson to come over:

Said S.N. Wood, ‘If you want to be among your friends, come over here.’ […] Said Huffs (a Hoosier), ‘Shoot and be d—-d.’ Said Wood to Branson, “Come, let them shoot if they want to,’ and, turning to them, said ‘Gentlemen, shoot, and not a man of you shall leave alive.’

He also takes credit for kicking the mule.

Samuel Jones

Samuel Jones

It appears from both accounts that the posse stood and took all of this, though not happily. Wood recounts that

Guns were aimed and cocked upon both sides, but just as Branson left one of the opposite party lowered his gun with the remark, ‘I ain’t going to shoot.’ Jones then advanced upon horseback, said his name was Jones, that he was Sheriff of Douglas County, Kansas, that he had a warrant to arrest the old man Branson, and he must serve it.

That Jones would wait until he’d lost charge of his prisoner to identify himself seems strange, but he waited quite a while to identify himself to Branson too. One gets the sense that he didn’t feel he had to answer to any antislavery Kansan.

 

“To Save Your Husband or Die” The Hunt for Jacob Branson, Part Six

Samuel Newitt Wood

Samuel Newitt Wood

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The Hunt for Jacob Branson: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

On the night of November 26-27, 1855, on his way back to Lawrence from a meeting to discuss the murder of free stater Charles Dow by proslavery man Franklin Coleman, heard of an armed band of proslavery men headed the way he came. Wood, himself involved with the free state militia, saw trouble and dispatched riders to raise the alarm. He and his traveling companion, J.B. Abbott rode back to Hickory Point to see what would transpire, as he told a correspondent two years later:

Never shall I forget that seven miles’ ride. Almost the whole distance was passed in silence. Just as we came to the timber I turned and inquired what we should do if we found the rascals at Branson’s.

Nineteenth century Americans did not understand rascal as a playful description. Rather they took it as a dire insult which might only be wiped clean with bloodshed. Given Wood understood Samuel Jones’ posse as aimed at Jacob Branson, and sent out the call for his own band to gather before setting out himself, he clearly foresaw the potential for the kind of treatment rascals deserved.

Abbott answered Wood tactfully. As the leader here, Wood should decide what they would do.

With tightened rein, revolvers in our hands, we galloped into the thicket, and in a moment were at the door of Branson’s. Dismounting, I hastily inquired for Branson. His wife, an old lady, in choking accents replied, ‘Twenty armed men have got him and gone.’ ‘Where?’ I asked. ‘Towards Lawrence,’ she replied, and at the same moment said they would ‘murder him,’ which I believed true, and spring into the saddle, and to the inquiry, ‘Where are you going?’ replied, ‘To save your husband or die.’

Wood surely knew that Branson held a rank in the Kansas Legion. He probably did the same, as the newspapers have Wood in command of a free state military company all the way back in July. He had one of his own to protect. If he didn’t, he might very well find himself next on Sheriff Jones’ list.

Wood and Abbott went out under a bright moon, looking for traces of the posse and asking passers-by if they’d seen Branson, Jones, and the posse. In a footnote, Wood explains that the posse went off-road to visit a proslavery man’s home for drinks. Branson confirms that. Two hours’ search availed them not, so “discouraged and dispirited” they split up, with Abbott heading for the agreed-upon rendezvous point to meet their reinforcements while Wood questioned a few more locals before riding to meet parties headed into the area. They came together at Abbott’s with about a dozen men gathered by Wood, Abbott apparently returning empty-handed as he “did not wait for the men on foot.”

The party debated what to do next, having gotten up their mob and found no one to sick it on.

we were about sending messengers to the pro-slavery town of Franklin for information, when all at once some one announced, ‘They are coming.’ Pell-mell we rushed out of the house and got into the road ahead of them, they halting within two rods of us.

 

The Hunt for Jacob Branson, Part Five

Samuel Newitt Wood

Samuel Newitt Wood

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The Hunt for Jacob Branson: parts 1, 2, 3, 4

We left Jacob Branson, Kansas Legion officer and landlord to the murdered Charles Dow, on the night of November 27, 1855 and in the custody of a posse led by Sheriff Samuel Jones. Some time after taking Branson, and escorting him over to where they could lubricate themselves, Jones explained his business to Branson at last. Only then did his charge learn the identity of his captor and reason for his seizure in the middle of the night.

Another group of armed, displeased men rode around Hickory Point that November night. Franklin Coleman’s murder of Dow caused much excitement and men had come down the day before from Lawrence to attend a public meeting on the subject. This meeting convened on Friday, the twenty-third. As Kansas meetings tend to, this one called for a sequel on the coming Monday, the 26th. Samuel Newitt Wood, of the Fourth of July festivities fame, attended both meetings and recounted his experiences in a 1857 letter to A. Wattles, reprinted in Charles Robinson’s The Kansas Conflict. The meetings set up a vigilance committee and appointed Wood to question witnesses, in the course of which he discovered or “discovered” that Dow died not as a result of a long-running land dispute but rather on account of his antislavery politics.

The meeting on the twenty-sixth lasted to dusk and

Much feeling was manifested against Coleman, and a strong disposition exhibited to burn his house, which stood near. Three or four men broke down the door, rushed in, emptied a straw bed upon the floor, and fired it. S.C. Smith, S.N. Wood, and others rushed into the house, smothered the flames, clearing the house, and amid the greatest excitement, some crying, ‘Burn the house,’ and others interceding to save property. S.N. Wood jumped upon the fence and said murder, pillage, and arson were the peculiar avocations of our enemies, that houses were too scarce to be burned, and that this meeting must not be disgraced in this way. Wood moved as the sense of the meeting that the house not be burned, which was carried unanimously, and the meeting quietly separated.

Branson also agreed that the men at the meeting wanted to burn Coleman out. He, like Wood, opposed the measure. The house still burned. That Wood stresses the bad press that the arson might bring on the cause, and the meeting’s attendees personally, might come down to good politics in persuading the more radical members of the crowd. It also might have come out of his genuine sentiment that the free state movement could not afford a reputation as arsonists. Or it might have served as cover for the members who quietly went off and burned Coleman’s and Buckley’s homes thereafter. Someone committed those arsons, and with a meeting of around a hundred free state men nearby so soon beforehand it seems likely that the guilty parties stood with the rest around the site of Charles Dow’s death that afternoon.

Samuel Jones

Samuel Jones

Wood turned back for Lawrence after the meeting, in the company of J.B. Abbott. They got lost in the dark, but found themselves at Blanton “about ten or eleven o’clock”

where we were met and told that a large party of armed men had just passed towards Hickory Point. I immediately urged the necessity of following the party to ascertain if possible their business to Hickory Point. We finally adjourned to Abbott’s for supper. After supper fresh horses were procured. One was sent up and down the Wakarusa to notify the settlers, two started upon foot to raise what Free-State settlers they could on the route and rendezvous near old man Branson’s, while Abbott and myself went to Hickory Point.

Wood doesn’t name the party as such, but he must have heard of Jones’ posse. From his reaction, he has to have understood them as at least likely a proslavery mob bent on some kind of violence. On that count, he and Sheriff Jones apparently agreed.

On Bias and How to Read History, with thanks to @HankGreen

This past week, I saw a post from educational Youtuber Hank Green (@HankGreen) over on Facebook. Hank and his brother John operate the benevolent informative empire of SciShow, CrashCourse, and numerous associated channels. Hank found a quiz put out by an actual academic to tell the you how much bias influences your politics. He scored very well on it. I also took the test and beat the average by a healthy margin, though I didn’t do quite so well as Hank. Best to disclose that up front. I also don’t mean to call Hank out here. His Facebook post provided the inspiration, but dealing with bias constitutes a very large part of what I do here. Evaluating sources for bias comes in not very far under reading sources, and usually runs simultaneously with it.

If you go around the Civil War block enough times, you’ll hear plenty of accusations of bias. Historians have a bias. Sources have a bias. Interpretations have a bias. Geography itself has a bias, apparently toward the North. The implication generally runs that the guilty indicate, by the presence of bias, shown themselves utterly untrustworthy. The speaker, emancipated by that discovery, can just skip reading the lot in favor of the unbiased. There one can learn the truth. The same argument runs through almost every subject on which people have differences. We could as easily have talked about the news as historical documents, or the questions asked on the test that Hank found. The liberating power of shouting “bias!” always works.

I find the entire business frustrating, because it comes so close to a good point and then careens off into a weird mix of cynicism and naivete. The cynicism comes in with the assumption that the presence of bias invalidates all points. If we really believed that then we would believe nothing about anything including that. Rather we generally mean by it that people who disagree with us constitute a pack of lying villains we can and should dismiss out of hand. This conviction comes in tandem with the notion that those who agree with us we can accept uncritically as they have no bias. Not everybody will go to that extreme, and I don’t mean to suggest that Hank did or does, but just calling out bias and stopping there ends up in much the same place. I’ve seen others do it, and others have seen me do it, often enough.

The bias road has a third exit, which generally goes unstated: we ourselves either have no bias or can easily set it aside when we make determinations about the bias of others. After a few years dealing with historical actors and documents, on top of all the normal business of life, I have come to find the latter assumption far more dangerous. What follows from finding what one considers an unbiased source, if not that we can then accept what this source says uncritically? We have not escaped bias then, but rather elevated it to dogma.

In some perfect world, we may find that unbiased source and so come to no grief from taking it uncritically. In the world where we actually live, bias comes hand in hand with humanity. If you can think, you have bias. It comes from your upbringing, your values, your experiences, your education, how your brain chemistry sorts itself out, and literally every input into your life. All of us live in its thrall; none of us can escape. We all come from somewhere and we all take it with us into all the things we do, from the historian perched uncomfortably on the sharpest peak of the ivory tower to the latest newborn. Every stimulus gets processed according to the machinery already in place and in so doing becomes part of the machinery itself. This doesn’t make us bad. We do not acquire all our biases out of malice. But we do acquire them uncritically enough that we should do our best to keep close watch over them. As the world’s most peerless experts in fooling ourselves, that proves a daunting challenge.

So naturally, we should give it all up. If we can never escape bias, then we can never do anything worthwhile or approaching the truth. Having no solution, we must either decide we have no problem and proceed anyway or we have to call it quits. Only the second allows us to make an honest choice, though even there we come freighted with biases in favor of consistency over contradiction. I even put my thumb on the scale by calling the latter the honest choice. Or we can do something else entirely, though this comes less naturally than either of the two previous options.

John Blassingame

John Blassingame

If all of this sounds abstract, then let me give you a few examples. I’ve mentioned Ulrich Bonnell Phillips before. Phillips wrote the first real history of slavery in the modern sense. In so doing, he made one of these calculations and demonstrated very well how the cynicism/naivete dynamic plays out. Phillips had slave narratives available to him. He chose to discard them as hopelessly muddled and written as polemical works to inflame antislavery sentiment. In other words, the experiences of enslaved people as passed down to us came with bias. They couldn’t be trusted. Phillips had no trouble, however, accepting uncritically the writing of their enslavers. Those rare specimens of humanity had written objectively, free of their biases. This may sound so retrograde to us that it beggars belief, but it made perfect sense to Phillips and to a bit more than two generations of historians after him. For most of the twentieth century, the study of slavery involved very few enslaved perspectives. This held true even for historians with a far more positive opinion of the antislavery movement and black Americans than Phillips had. It took until the 1970s and the work of a black scholar, John Blassingame, for the change to begin. One still finds occasional historians who treat slave narratives as an expendable genre of literature rather than one which can tell us important things about slavery. The Economist generally likes their work.

Ulrich Bonnell Phillips

Ulrich Bonnell Phillips

In my own late work, I’ve dealt with two murders committed by proslavery men against antislavery men. In both cases, the only eyewitness testimony I have found comes from proslavery sources. These naturally paint both murderers as acting in self-defense against aggressive antislavery partisans who both escalated the conflict and initiated the violence in their final, fatal encounters. Samuel Collins literally came looking for Patrick Laughlin to cause trouble. Charles Dow and Jacob Branson wanted Franklin Coleman gone so badly that they went against established custom to excuse their expropriating parts of his claim and leaving him with not enough to support his family.

Or so the stories sympathetic to the killers go. The accounts in the Herald of Freedom generally swing the other way, but George Washington Brown doesn’t claim to have any witnesses to back himself up. His decision to paint both Collins and Dow as innocents murdered by brutes seems to have come down to consulting their politics. William Phillips, the author and journalist but not the lynching victim, did much the same. Branson, Coleman, and Laughlin all lived to tell their sides of the stories but they all had an understandable interest in vindicating themselves.

How does one sort out that mess? Ideally, one could read proslavery and antislavery accounts against each other. When they agree, we can more confidently argue that things happened as described. Where they do not, we must necessarily consider both in their contexts and inevitably make subjective judgments about probability and plausibility. When I do this, I try for transparency by both admitting that I have made the judgments and sharing my reasoning. In no way do these judgments, or those of a real historian, constitute a science. In the past generation most historians have come to accept that we can’t manage any kind of perfect objectivity. Instead the discipline strives to integrate diverse perspectives in the service of mitigating the ubiquity of bias through commensurate diversity of bias.

That said, I don’t want to leave you, Gentle Readers, with shrugs and invocations of human messiness. History does not aspire to science, but it does have some best practices. I’ve already alluded to some of them, and they live in the subtext of most every post here, but I can’t go this far without offering a few suggestions. These apply to both primary sources from the era in question and to historians working from them:

A diversity of sources, as diverse as one can get, considered fairly but critically will tell you more than one source or one type of source alone. Where they differ, you can read them against one another and see what falls out. However, this often makes for an unattainable goal. We have only so much time, money, and access to information. Sources which seem consistently misleading and deceptive may not deserve the effort put into integrating them. That holds especially true for sources speaking to things that happened in some external to the author sense, but less so for sources speaking to attitudes, feelings, and perceptions at the time. If you want to know what enslavers thought and felt, you’ve got to read them even though they frequently lie even to themselves.

William Phillips

William Phillips

One should always consider who wrote a source and try to know something about the author and his or her circumstances. That includes their politics, upbringing, and their personal involvement with issues touching upon their subject. William Phillips (both of them) actually lived in Kansas and participated in antislavery politics there, which presents us with both an asset in firsthand knowledge and a liability in that they have enough personal investment to strongly encourage them to ignore or obscure facts inconvenient to the cause. Much the same holds true for Franklin Coleman and all the rest. More recent and scholarly works remain likewise a product of the same. Historians find their questions in their present, even if they dig into the past to answer them. Historical work inevitably comments on the present as well as the past. Interest in political violence, notably around Reconstruction, has had a considerable revival since September 11, 2001. Interest in moderation and consensus, along with enthusiasm for capitalism, similarly took place of prominence during the years of white prosperity after the Second World War.

One should then consider to when the author wrote. William A. Phillips published his book on Kansas with the issue still very much unsettled. Charles Robinson wrote his decades after the fact. He had more hindsight to benefit him than Phillips, as well as a less urgent need to vindicate the free state cause before the nation with the question long resolved, but likewise took a very personal role in events. Those decades further added to the natural fading of human memory. On a broader level, one should take histories written closer to the event as inherently more invested in the event than those written later. That doesn’t mean that all early works don’t deserve reading, or that all recent works do, but the earlier authors often have less access to information and frequently worked in times with different scholarly norms. Assessments we find abhorrent, like U.B. Phillips’ dismissal of the slave experience, once raised no eyebrows at all. Our own time will have the same.

Robert S. Kelley

Robert S. Kelley

One should further consider to whom the author wrote. William Phillips, like George Brown and Robert Kelley, wrote with a national audience in mind. Kelley’s and John Stringfellow’s Squatter Sovereign hoped to elicit the sympathy and support of southern partisans for their Kansas project, whilst simultaneously stressing the evils of abolitionism to depress its appeal to wavering northerners. Phillips and Brown hoped to do the same things, but in favor of their own Kansas project. Thus they have more interest than they might otherwise in emphasizing the virtues of their own side and vices of the other. Furthermore, they might not shy away from printing lies that anybody in Kansas could spot on the grounds that many readers would not have the firsthand knowledge to recognize the deceptions.

As a person inordinately concerned with history, writing a history blog, I have naturally approached the subject through that particular lens. I submit, however, that these techniques apply just as well to sorting through the inherent messiness of humanity in other fields. We can’t figure it all out to perfection, but we need not make the perfect the enemy of the good here. Understanding better and more completely, if more complicatedly, may require uncomfortable and unaccustomed exertions, but remains within our power.

The Hunt for Jacob Branson, Part Four

Samuel Jones

Samuel Jones

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The Hunt for Jacob Branson: parts 1, 2, 3

Sheriff Samuel Jones and his posse relented and let Jacob Branson put on some pants, and a coat, before hauling taking him away. The posse left Branson’s claim on horseback, but it seems they only had a mule for their charge. He testifies that previous to him, Franklin Coleman rode the animal.

Then the posse went to Harrison Buckley’s house. Buckley’s deposition doesn’t shed any light on this, but presumably he asked for a side trip to check on his claim. Given his land and Branson’s both abutted Coleman’s, they wouldn’t have had to go far out of their way. According to Branson:

Buckley, and I think one or two others, then got off and went into the house, and got a bridle, and caught another horse. There were several trunks set outside the house; some of them were open; Buckley pushed one back into the house and said that the damned Yankees, or abolitionists, I do not recollect which, had been robbing his house, and that was the way he had found it when he got home.

Whoever fired Buckley’s home didn’t commit the arson until near dawn.

Buckley mounted up on his own horse and the posse rode to the home of a Mr. Freeland. Two remained outside to guard Branson, while the rest went in.

They remained in there for some time, I think from half an hour to an hour. They brought some liquor out to the other men in a jug, and gave me some. I was almost frozen-very much chilled, as it was a clear cold night.

Good thing they let Branson put some pants on. Pants or otherwise, he got to stew outside while the posse had their drinking session. Sufficiently lubricated, the posse continued along. They came up to Blanton’s bridge. It appears that only then did Jones make his business, aside the fact that he put Branson under arrest, known to his prisoner:

Sheriff Jones, who called himself the high sheriff of this county-the one that first presented the pistol to me in my house and called me his prisoner-claimed to be the leader of the company. He never showed me his warrant, and did not tell me for what I was arrested, until a short time before I was rescued. He then rode up to where I was, and I asked him what great criminal act I had been doing, that he brought so many men to take me?

Given Branson couldn’t Google Jones and get a look at his picture or see him on television, I can believe that he didn’t know the man on sight. He says as much later in his testimony. But could he really have gone this long in doubt of just why a bunch of proslavery men came to arrest him? Possibly. It’s obvious to us that the Coleman-Dow affair led to all of this, but from Branson’s perspective, Jones could just as likely have come simply because Branson served in the Kansas Legion. Jones explained that he had a peace warrant against Branson, which naturally led to the next question:

I then said, it took a great many men to come after an old man like me. He said, “these men that came along with me we expected would have a little fun; we heard that there were about a hundred men at your house to-day, and we hoped to find them there to-night, as we wanted to have some sport with them;” and said he regretted they were not there, and that they were cheated out of their sport.

Jones likely would not have relished the odds of about a dozen vs. a hundred, and Branson has every reason to paint him in the worst light, but this sounds to me like fairly ordinary frontiersman bluster. The sheriff certainly assembled his posse with the expectation of trouble and he and his deputies probably did hope for a little action, if not to take on an enemy that outnumbered them ten to one.

 

 

The Hunt for Jacob Branson, Part Three

Hugh Cameron

Hugh Cameron

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

The Hunt for Jacob Branson: parts 1, 2

Sheriff Samuel Jones set out in the evening of November 26, 1855, to arrest Jacob Branson for the threats he’d made on Harrison Buckley’s life. He went armed with a warrant from justice of the peace Hugh Cameron and a posse to help execute it. That posse included Buckley and Josiah Hargis, both of whom the free state mob had threatened. Alice Nichols speculates that they saw the light of their burning homes in the distance, bright fruits of free state wrath. The precise timeline remains murky to me, but they must have passed quite near. Hargis lived on a claim directly adjoining Coleman’s, just as Jacob Branson did. William McKinney puts the burning of Buckley’s home around dawn on the 27th, which would make it after the posse came and went, but McKinney also testified that Franklin Coleman’s home burned on the night of the 26th. The posse could very well have seen that.

The posse rode through the night, coming to Branson’s cabin around two or three in the morning. None of the three men told what happened when they met Branson in their depositions, but Branson had plenty to say about it to the Howard Committee. He finished up his day with a meeting at the site of Dow’s murder where he and other free state men questioned witnesses, then went home and retired around seven.

My wife woke me up. I do not know how long I had been asleep, but thought it was but a short time. I found that a good many persons were coming towards my house, and by the time I was fairly awake I heard a rap at the door. I asked who was there? and the answer was, “Friends.” Before I could tell them to come in, the door was burst open, and the room was filled with persons. I had got out, and was sitting on the side of the bed, with nothing on but my shirt.

Samuel Jones

Samuel Jones

Presumably Branson means a nightshirt. Hopefully a long one. One of the “friends” who called so kindly

asked me if my name was Branson, and I said it was. He then drew his pistol, cocked it, and presented it to my breast and said, “You are my prisoner, and if you move I will blow through you. Don’t you move.”

Samuel Jones had gone the better part of a year without aiming a gun at a free state man and threatening to kill him. He must have thought it about time he got a second turn. Branson proceeded to resist arrest by the most devilish stratagem:

I went to stoop to get my pants, and he stopped me two or three times, saying, “Don’t you move, or I will blow through you.” I heard others cock their guns, and I saw them present them to me all around me, except at the back of my bed, where they could not get.

We should not automatically take Branson at his word about this whole affair, but Jones did essentially the same thing at Bloomington back in March. It seems entirely in character for him to repeat the performance. Eventually, however, Jones and his posse relented. I imagine they didn’t entirely relish the thought of having Branson riding painfully or walking draftily around in the November night in a state of dishabille.

The Hunt for Jacob Branson, Part Two

Hugh Cameron

Hugh Cameron

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Assume for a moment that you don’t know all the details of Franklin Coleman’s claim disputes with Jacob Branson and Charles Dow. Few in Kansas did, unless they lived in the Hickory Point area. But by late November of 1855, everybody knows that the free state men have a secret military order. Everybody also knows that the slavery question has turned Kansas territory in increasingly violent directions. A proslavery man straight-out killed a free state man only a month ago, in a dispute arising directly from their difference on slavery. The authoritarian territorial government and frequent election stealing, coupled with threats against the governor who tried to curb the latter, had driven many Kansans previously moderate on slavery over into the free soil camp. With proslavery men apparently running wild with official sanction, paramilitary organization clearly sounded downright prudent to some Kansans. Then another proslavery man kills another antislavery man.

Jacob Branson might have done some work to raise the mob hunting for Franklin Coleman, but he probably didn’t need to rely entirely on personal ties or his position as an officer in the Kansas Legion to get men to come and mob with him. Things in the territory had clearly gone out of control and proslavery men seemed entirely out of control. For Coleman to kill Dow just made him the next installment in a growing series of horrors. When Coleman, Buckley, and Hargis ran, it served to both prove their guilt and offered a welcome outcome, even if they’d have preferred to seize the guilty parties and do horrible things to them.

But Coleman didn’t go away, never to return. Instead, he went to sheriff Samuel Jones. Buckley swore to justice of the peace Hugh Cameron that Branson had made mortal threats against him, so the judge gave Douglas County’s favorite proslavery zealot a warrant for Branson’s arrest. Somehow, the murder of a free soil Kansan by a proslavery Kansan had turned into an excuse to hunt down a local free soil leader. Jones wasted no time getting together a posse to come serve that warrant and collect Branson.

William Phillips

William Phillips

William Phillips claims that Jones engaged in some chicanery to get his warrant:

The manner in which they had to proceed about this showed the character of the whole affair. Jones had got a commission for a justice of the peace all filled but the name; and found a man named Cameron, a recreant free-state man, of low repute, who, vain man, for the title “justice of the peace” was willing to sell what little had had of principle.

So per Phillips, and here he probably speaks for many antislavery onlookers, Jones manufactured a justice of the peace. Presumably he would have gotten that commission from Wilson Shannon, with the name handily blank, and went off to find someone who would sign it. This makes for a nice story, but seems very far-fetched. It sounds much more like a rehearsal of standard Whig complaints about Democratic patronage practices. Furthermore, Phillips has demonstrated familiarity with more facts than he admits to in his account previously. He quoted part of Coleman’s statement, but went on to insist that Dow and Coleman had no prior difficulties without acknowledging the contradiction even to cast aspersions on Coleman’s character. This seems like the kind of thing where Phillips would uncritically believe and report popular rumors.

I looked into the date of Cameron’s commission today, but except for an aging webpage that fails to cite any sources I haven’t found any details. A commission dated to late November of 1855 would make Phillips’ supposition entirely credible. I did, however, find a picture of Cameron. However he came about the justice of the peace commission, he honestly earned the title of Most Impressive Beard in Kansas.

Phillips continues:

Before this patent justice Buckley came; and, swearing he was afraid of his life for threats made by Jacob Branson, this Esquire Cameron issued a peace-warrant for the arrest of said Branson, doing so at the same time he received his commission from Jones. The next thing was to secure a posse. Coleman, it was decided, should not go; but he was unloading the pistols and guns, and making other preparations for the expedition. Before long a party of fifteen men, including Jones, Hargus, and Buckley, were ready for the expedition.

Coleman doesn’t say he went with Jones and it would make sense for him to stay behind. The others set out to make the arrest.

 

The Hunt for Jacob Branson, Part One

George W. Brown

George W. Brown

Trouble at Hickory Point: parts 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10

The Hunt for Franklin Coleman: part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

We left off at Hickory Point with John Banks returned home to find a mob still hunting Coleman. They had come together where the latter show free state man Charles Dow, who then lived with Kansas Legion officer Jacob Branson. The mob drew up some resolutions, for which I have searched in vain. However, one can get a sense of free state feeling on the matter from the Herald of Freedom. George Washington Brown printed the same item reporting Dow’s murder in three consecutive issues, under the heading “Murder Most Foul.”

Our town was thrown into a high state of excitement on Thursday last by intelligence from near Hickory Point, in this Territory, that Chas. W. Dow, a young man about twenty-two years of age, was most barbarously murdered by a party of demons who rejoice in the appellation of “border ruffians.” Mr. Dow had been to a blacksmith shop where several of these demons incarnate were congregated. One of them drew a rifle on him, and threatened to shoot him on the spot, but finally set down his weapon without injuring any one. Mr. Dow started to leave, and got a few rods when his attention was directed towards the shop by the explosion of a percussion cap. Looking around he received a charge of buck shot in his bosom from a wretch named Colman, [sic] and fell dead upon the spot.

The business at the blacksmith shop seems to refer to a confrontation between Dow and Harrison Buckley, who many free state men initially thought had show Dow. Brown further pledged

The people will assemble on Monday, and execute summary punishment upon the entire party who were present, and accessories to the murder, if they can be found. We wait with anxiety for further developments.

By this point, however, Coleman, Buckley, and Hargis traveled Kansas with Sheriff Samuel Jones. They went in search of a magistrate, at Governor Wilson Shannon’s instructions, and found Hugh Cameron at Lecompton, the seat of Douglas County. I before speculated that the party saw Shannon twice, but can now confirm them. It slipped my mind that Coleman’s testimony to the Howard Committee mentions separate meetings.

At Lecompton, Buckley swore an affidavit to Cameron regarding the threats to his life that Branson had made. According to Jones’ later affidavit, reprinted in Brewerton:

on the 26th day of November, A.D. 1855, he received from the hands of Hugh Cameron, a legally appointed justice of the peace for said County of Douglass, a peace-warrant issued by said justice of the peace, and to him directed as sheriff, […] and immediately after receiving said warrant he summoned a posse of ten men and proceeded to the house of said Branson

Jones’ posse included Buckley and Hargis, but it appears that Coleman remained in Lecompton. The hunt for Franklin Coleman thus gave way to a hunt for Jacob Branson.