Chapter 2
Two months earlier
Shawneetown, Kansas
Elizabeth Stiles thought, when she heard horses and the knock at the door, that it was about the note on the table. She opened the door and was relieved to see a man in a Federal uniform. She stepped out and held the lantern into the night. A cluster of soldiers sat their horses behind him. The man removed his hat.
“Good evenin’, ma’am. Captain Todd.” He nodded. “Is your husband home? I’m sorry to call so late, but I have orders here.” He pulled an envelope from his belt. “I thought your husband could help.”
“Come in, Captain.”
“No, I’ll wait out here. If you’ll just call him, I’d appreciate.”
Elizabeth went to the bedroom door and found Jacob dressed and pulling on his boots. “It’s OK,” she said. “Our soldiers--looking for something, somebody. The Captain wants to see you.”
She heard the girls talking in the room next door and looked in. “Shush, now! Go to sleep! It’s nothing. Go to sleep.”
She followed her husband onto the porch and handed him the lantern. The men had dismounted and tied their horses to the rail.
The Captain introduced himself and handed Jacob the paper he held, and the two stepped out into the street.
“Here. Let me hold that.” The Captain took the lantern and held it high while Jacob read. Then he pulled his pistol and shot Jacob in the head. Holstering his pistol, he set the lantern on the ground, pulled the paper from Jacob’s hand, folded it, and stuffed it into his belt.
Elizabeth screamed and ran to her husband and knelt. Sobbing and calling his name, she turned his face and tried to cover the mass of blood and gore at the side of his head.
She felt a hand grab her hair and drag her onto her back. She saw another man grab her husband’s shirt, stick a pistol into his mouth and fire.
Elizabeth felt the world go cold and black and then a hand grabbed her blouse and pulled her up. The man standing over her stuck a pistol to her stomach. “Did ya git my note, schoolmarm? Huh?” He knelt astride her and pushed her down and held the pistol to her cheek.
“Let her go, Palmer,” someone said. “She’s too pretty to shoot. Besides, she’s a teacher.”
“I know, goddamn it. I know who she is. She’s a spy!”
“Let her go. Git yer horse.”
The man got up and grabbed the lantern from the ground. “I’m gonna fire the house. I’m gonna burn it down.”
“Git yer horse, Palmer. Come on. You can come back later. We got work to do, and you know these people.”
Elizabeth looked up as the men walked their horses into the town square. Then she stood and looked to the porch. Her two youngest were crying and clinging to her oldest, who stood between them. Elizabeth ran to them and knelt.
“Clara’s going to take you somewhere safe. Go inside and get one thing to take with you and go out the back. Clara, make sure they’re dressed warm. Grab a blanket and take them to the schoolhouse. Stay there until I come to get you. Go.”
Elizabeth stepped into the street and watched the soldiers drag tables and chairs out from houses, break them up, and feed the fire in the center of the street across from the saloon. Others dragged men with women following, some trying to pull their men from the grasp of the soldiers. People stood beyond the light of the flames to watch or to quiet crying children or to comfort wailing women.
Elizabeth walked to the edge of the crowd that was forming in an arc around a line of men standing in front of the bonfire. A man in uniform shouted a name from a list. The soldier commanded, “Step forward when I call yer name.”
“He’s there,” someone in the crowd shouted. A man stepped forward.
“What’s yer politics, sir?”
“Who’s asking?”
“You know who I am.”
“You got my name. I just want to hear yours.”
“William Clarke Quantrill, Confederate Partisan Rangers.” The man in uniform walked three steps ahead. “What are your politics, sir?”
“This is Kansas, and Kansas is a free state. I am a free stater and you...”
Quantrill took a step and shot him.
Quantrill stepped back into the line of soldiers and read another name. One of the men in front of the fire stepped forward and said, “I’m Missouri. We’re not on a side. I got no politics.”
Quantrill spoke loud enough for everyone in the crowd to hear. “Let’s make this easy and quick. I’m not here to listen to a bunch of speeches. If any one of you folks in town got a problem with the way I sort things, just let me know. I’ve gathered these here men so you all can see what you got in your midst. I can’t shoot all the snakes, but I kin help you reconize ‘em.
Now, you men. You gotta make a choice--not like this man here.” He waved his pistol. “You, sir, step back in line. Not like this man here who doesn’t take sides. You gotta make a choice and live with it. Or not.
If you choose to follow the Stars and Bars of the Confederate States, stand clear. If you like a country with no freedom and want to die a Yank, step forward.” Quantrill stood with his pistol at his side. “Take yer time. I’ll give you a minute
.” He waved his pistol at the houses. “You men git to fire’in up them houses.” He turned to the line of men. “I guess that does it. If any of you decide to change your politics in the next ten minutes or so, be sure’n look me up.” He turned to the crowd and waved his pistol. “These men are not to be buried. They lie where they fell. You bury them and I will know and I will come back and I will burn the rest of the town and kill whoever I kin find did it. You all can go now. I want the street clear.”
He turned to his men. “Proceed at will. We will mount up in an hour.”
Elizabeth turned back to her house and found it already ablaze. She picked up her skirts and ran to the school, where she found women and children huddled along the walls. Her own three she found behind her desk. She took George and Sara by the hand and led the three of them out to the road and north.
They walked through the night and waited at the river until the sun came up. It took little to convince the pilot that the four needed free passage across the Kaw. He gave them food and water and directed them up the road to Quindaro. When they arrived at the Friends Church they told their story and were fed and comforted. The next day they were taken north to the inn known as the Six Mile House.
It was not yet noon and the fire pit in front of the inn was already going. A youth held the horses as Elizabeth helped her children out of the buggy. Men were busy in the corral and at the stable. Elizabeth brought her three children into the saloon and the man who escorted them introduced the man who came from the kitchen.
“Elizabeth Stiles, meet Theodore Bartles. Mr. Bartles is your host while you’re here at Six Mile.”
Elizabeth curtseyed. “This is Clara, this is George, and this is Sara.” The girls dipped and George shook hands. “Pleased to meet you,” they said in turn.
“Welcome to Six Mile. You’re Jacob’s family, aren’t you? You’re just in time for dinner.”
“Thank you. Before you go to any trouble, is Col. Hoyt in? I was told by the Friends in Quindaro he might be here.”
“He is in his office. I’ll go down and get him. But first, won’t you come sit and let me get you some refreshments? Tea? Sarsaparilla? Beer?”
“Some water would be fine for now.”
“Come sit. I’ll have my wife bring you something.” Theo led them to a table and disappeared into the kitchen.
George Hoyt came out of the kitchen behind a woman in an apron. Elizabeth and the children rose from the table as she set out the drinks. “Elizabeth! And the three growing Stiles!” He grabbed her hands and shook them while she introduced the children. “What brings you out of your element? I hear you are doing great things with the Shawnees south of the river. Tell me about the new school. And how’s Jacob?”
Sara sat and began crying. Her brother sat and put his arm around her.
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“I’d like to have a word with you, Col. Hoyt. About Jacob.”
“Rebecca, will you stay with the children while Elizabeth and I use your office?” He smiled at her. Then he led Elizabeth into the kitchen.
For the next ten minutes Elizabeth went over the night of the raid. She was interrupted by Mrs. Bartles. “George, can you go downstairs? I’m going to fix up something for these three children, something sweet and warm. Something for you, too, if you like. Mrs. Stiles?”
Elizabeth shook her head and Hoyt said, “Good idea, Rebecca. See what you can do for them.” He led Elizabeth down the butler staircase to the basement that glowed in the lamplight. A narrow shaft of light fell on the floor from a window set high in the west wall.
Hoyt led her into a room furnished with a wall-mounted cot, a chair and smoking stand, a trunk, and a desk flanked by bookcases. He pulled glasses and a bottle from the shelf and poured. “First, let’s sit and take a few breaths. We’ve got time.” He set a glass on the smoking table next to the club chair and gestured, and she sat. He pulled the chair away from the desk and sat. He held his glass to her. “Here’s to Jacob. May he rest in peace.”
Elizabeth raised her glass. “May he rest in peace.”
They drank.
“I want you to go bury them, Col. Hoyt. Make sure they’re buried. It’ll be two days. The people there won’t do it. The town’s terrified.”
“I’ll leave as soon as we’re finished here. Is there anything else I should know?”
“Lemuel Palmer. He’s a neighbor. I had no idea it was him that wrote that note. He was there when we marched through the town that very afternoon. A little girl came up and gave me the note while we were marching.”
“And what did the note say exactly?”
“Exactly? It said, ‘If this parade is repeated you may expect a coat of tar and feathers.’ I didn’t think much of it. When I got home I showed it to Jacob and I laughed--said something like, ‘well, it has good grammar, and no spelling errors. Someone went to school!’ Someone angry that I brought the schoolchildren out for a parade. You know, Colonel, it was people in the town that got the reservation school shut down. People like Lemuel Palmer.”
“I’m not surprised they shut it down.”
“And some of the Indian haters wrote to the Quindaro newspaper about my setting up a school that mixed Indians and white children. The paper printed their story and used it editorially against them, but still...”
“I’ll take care of it. Let’s go over it one more time. Just the names.”
“The man who came to the door and shot Jacob. He said his name was Todd.”
“George Todd. And the leader of the bunch was Quantrill.”
“Yes. He announced that name to the man he shot.”
“Did you recognize anyone else in uniform?”
“No one else. There wasn’t much light.”
“I don’t suppose anyone in the town would have ridden with Quantrill in uniform that night. Who were the men Quantrill lined up? Do you know them? Get a good look at them?”
“Yes, I did. I know them all, and Quantrill had a list of them. They weren’t all real strong loyalists, but I recognized them.”
“I’d like you to make a list of those men. Is there anyone else in the town that Quantrill missed? Anyone you know you could go to, somebody who supported your school?”
“Oh, yes. Just women without their men--men who died in the fighting or gone to war.”
“How many?”
“Six or seven.”
“I’d like them on a list, too.”
Elizabeth looked at him.
“When I get there I’ll need some support. I may need help getting the men buried.”
“Yes.”
“You sit here.” He pulled paper, pen, and ink from the desk. “If you think of anything else I should know before I go there, make a note for me. I’m going up and see that my men are doing what I told them to do. You come up when you like. The children are fine with Mrs. Bartles.” He stood and put his hand over his heart. “I am truly sorry that you have lost your husband and that your children have lost their father. Nothing will bring him back, but I will do what I can to bring you comfort.”
“Thank you, Colonel.”
Hoyt walked up to the kitchen and called Mrs. Bartles aside. “Rebecca, let’s have dinner early, if you can manage. The men and I are going for a ride.”
“It’s ready, Colonel. You ring the bell and by the time the men get in here, it’ll be on.”
“And the children. If it is not too much trouble, would you serve them and their mother in the saloon? And sit with them, please. I’ll take care of the men. Thank you.”
When the men were all seated at the table, Hoyt stood and the room quieted. “You may continue with your meal, but I’d like to say a few words about a mission we are compelled to carry out this evening. The children sitting in the next room--two days ago they saw their father executed in front of them. Their mother was threatened and their house was burned to the ground. The men who did it advertised themselves as Quantrill and Todd. The gang wore Federal uniforms and were supported by members of the town, Mrs. Stiles’ own neighbors. Tonight we ride to avenge the Stiles family and mete out justice to the murderous traitors in our midst who support the rebellion. We leave in an hour, armed and light. We’ll be back before sunrise. Any questions?”
“One. Which side of the river?”
“Kansas, south of the Kaw. We cross east of the Grasshopper. Good question. Pete, I want you right now to get on your horse and go down and hold the ferry. Do what you need to do to make it happen. We’ll be right behind you.”
The man grabbed a meaty bone and left.
“Any other questions?”
“Will you put me to work if I ask one?”
“I’ll take that as a question. Yes, is the answer. When we get back you muck out the stable. Any others?”
“Do we announce ourselves? Go in uniform?”
“Wear your leggings and your sabers. Bring pistols and long guns. We might get lucky. Any other questions? If not, eat, fill canteens and mount up. See you at the corral.”
When eleven members of the Kansas Seventh Volunteer Cavalry Irregulars got off the ferry, they rode east along the river for ten minutes when Hoyt called them to dismount.
“We are headed for the Shawnee Mission. We will stop short and pull into the trees above the town. Beauregard and I will disarm and ride into town to reconnoiter and see if Quantrill left any men behind. Stand off your horses quiet. Let them graze. No smoking. We will be back after dark.”
As Jack “Beauregard” Bridges and George Hoyt rode abreast of each other, the Colonel filled him in on the plan. “We’ll look to see if they’ve buried the bodies. We get here and give off the idea that we support it, ask who gets credit, and so forth. What we’re after is identifying people on this list. We keep them safe. Look it over.” He handed Bridges a copy of the list Elizabeth had composed. “Above all, we want Palmer. Whatever we need to do, whatever ass we need to kiss, whatever stories we need to tell, we want to identify Palmer. He’ll give us names and we’ll sort them out on the second pass through. Any questions?”
“Nope. I’ll just follow your lead.”
“Good. Let’s go, Beauregard, and have a little fun.”
Hoyt was surprised at what he saw when he passed through the town. Houses burned to the ground, stables burned, the hotel identifiable only by the limestone blocks of its foundation. The church still stood.
They rode into the square. The sun was gone and light was fading. There was no one in the street. No one came out of a house.
“This is not good, boss,” said Bridges. He pointed to two bodies covered with sheets outside the church.
Hoyt shook his head. “Let’s see if anybody’s home. Head down that direction. I’ll take this street. Let’s see if we can find somebody to tell us what happened here.”
When Hoyt saw a light, he stopped
, dismounted, and stepped up to the house. His knock was answered by a woman in a white cap who just looked at him.
Hoyt removed his hat. “Good evening, missus. I don’t mean to bother you, but we came across the river to visit and it looks like somebody brought the war to town. I sure am sorry what you got.”
The woman held the door. “There’s nothin’ I can do fer you. Go away.” She closed the door.
Hoyt spoke to the door. “Is there anybody in town? I came quite a ways and it’s almost dark.”
The door opened a crack. “Why’d ya come here?”
“I’m looking for a man who said he might be able to help me. Name of Lem Palmer. Said to just stop by.”
“That fool? Lemuel Palmer!” She opened the door and stuck her head out and spat. “There! He’s the one who brought all this down on us. Look around. Smell. He brought death to this town.”
“I’m sorry, missus. I just want to talk to him and I’ll go.”
“Yer not one ‘a them, are ya? One ‘a them fancy killers that dress up like soldiers, friends of Lemuel Palmer?” She opened the door wide and spat on the porch floor.
“I assure you, I’m not. No. Can you tell me, maybe let me know who can? Then I’ll be goin’. Looks like there’s no place in town to stay. So, well, thank you.” He settled his hat on his head and touched the brim.
“See the church?” She stepped out onto the porch and waved. “Two doors over from the church there. And don’t tell him you heard it from me. From now on I don’t know the man.” She stepped in and slammed the door.
Hoyt rode down and met Bridges in the street. “Find anybody?” he asked.
Bridges shook his head.” Nobody who’d answer the door. There’s lights. People are home.”
“I don’t blame them. I found a woman who wasn’t happy with Lemuel Palmer, but she pointed out his house.”
“If nobody’ll talk to us, we’re not gonna find the people on the list.”
“And we’re not going to have much fun here, then, are we?”
Bridges looked down and shook his head. “Nope.”
“Let’s ride back and get the men. We still have Lemuel Palmer to deal with before he goes to bed.”
When Hoyt and Bridges rode into the trees, the men pulled their horses around and listened. “It’s not like I thought,” Hoyt began. “Quantrill burned half the town and the other half is going to die on its own. We’re going to go back and kill Palmer in his house and tell his wife and kids to bury him and the two stinking bodies they got lined up in front of the church and to do it before the sun comes up. Tell them if they’re not in the ground by sunup, they die. Not make a big show of it, maybe not even wake up the town. We all ride in wide and slow. Beauregard and I go in, see Palmer, and then we all ride out.”
The next morning Elizabeth and her children ate breakfast in the kitchen with the men. They made polite conversation and the talk came around to including the children and questions about school. “We haven’t decided exactly,” their mother said, “but there’s a good chance we can get them into school back in Washington. The children and I talked about it last night, and they agree that it’s time to leave the frontier. Their father’s sister lives in Washington. I think it’s safe there, and I’m planning to go to Fort Leavenworth to telegraph her with the news. I won’t ask for help, but if there is not room for us, we’ll find a place somewhere else. There’s always a need for good teachers.”
The conversation took a turn to the east, and the men who had traveled some marveled at the progress the railroads had made in the last few years. Hoyt shared his travels back to Washington to lobby the President’s support for the cavalry. He brought to the table the latest news on the war fronts, and all the men weighed in on what they thought about the war in the undeclared states.
Hoyt brought the speculation to a close when he promised to take their concerns to Washington and the men took that as a prompt for foolishness. Hoyt turned to Elizabeth. “I need to bring these men under control. I’m going to ask that you and Rebecca retire to the saloon with the children. Bring your coffee. I should be able to bring them under rein in five minutes or so, and then I’ll join you. Thank you.”
When Hoyt dismissed the men, he came in with his coffee and sat down with Elizabeth. “Rebecca, would you take the children out and show them the grounds?”
She smiled at him. “The grounds, Col. Hoyt? Could I restrict the tour to the stables?”
Hoyt nodded. “The stables. Look at the horses. Maybe you can find one out there with your name on it!”
When they had gone, Hoyt rolled the cup in his palms and looked down at the table. “You and the children have been through a lot in the last three days,” he began. “I heard you say at breakfast that you want to find a safe place for them. Is Washington where you want to be?”
“Washington or Chicago. I lived in Chicago until I was nineteen and I have people there. It really isn’t about where I want to be. It’s where we can fit in. Family is important to me. We’ve all lost so much. My children, you know, are not my own. The two oldest were my sister’s and when she died, Jacob and I took them in. Sara, bless her heart, was literally left on our doorstep. At the mission’s doorstep. So they are tough, but they are also very tender. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, but the sooner I get them settled, the better for them.”
“And how about you? What’s best for you?”
“I have to make a living and I have to take care of my children. Right now I think what’s best for me is to have the man who killed my husband tied to a stake in front of me and to tear pieces off his body with a pliers.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I think that would do it.” She nodded. “Oh, wait. As long as I’m dreaming, I’d like to hold a gun to Lemuel Palmer’s head until he pissed himself.” She laughed and shook her head. “Yes. Then I could settle down. Go back to teaching. Raise my kids.”
Hoyt looked up. “There’s no good way to tell you this, so I’ll come out and say it direct. I left Beauregard to watch over your husband’s body. Lemuel Palmer said he was sorry before I shot him.” Hoyt didn’t wait for Elizabeth to draw a second breath. “His wife and children were left to bury him and your husband and the other poor soul who died with him. We didn’t burn his house.”
Elizabeth looked at Hoyt and didn’t make a sound, but tears welled up and fell. She reached out and put her hand over his.
“You do not get the comfort of burying your husband. Palmer’s death doesn’t address the injustice of the murders, the burning, and the terror, but it’s a start. If I could find Todd, I’d bring him to you. I’m going to let you sit here while I go out and talk to Tough, and then I’m going down to my office and write up a report. When you feel up to it, go out and look around. It’s a beautiful fall morning and we’ve got some nice horses in the corral.”
Elizabeth sat only for a moment and followed Hoyt out into the courtyard. She caught up to him and walked at his side. “Col. Hoyt. Your actions give me great satisfaction and move me to ask a favor of you. I need to find a place for my children before I can grieve for my husband. I need to go to Leavenworth to telegraph my brother-in-law. Can you give me a horse? I’ll get my business done and be back in a day.”
“I’ll do you one better. I’ll have Ralph rig up a buggy and we’ll both go. I have business at the fort and I can take you there and introduce you. We both can use the telegraph and do business and be back by supper.”
Elizabeth touched his elbow and he stopped. “I welcome your company. But I’d like to ride. It’s time I get back on the horse, so to speak. My daddy taught me to ride and shoot and I think it would be invigorating.”
Hoyt smiled. “You want a brace of pistols? Or just one for your purse?”
“Colonel, I never carry a purse.” She looked up and smiled. “Write your report, and we’ll go.”
The ride to Leavenworth was an Indian summer pleasure. Hoyt introduced Elizabeth all around and the men in the General’s office were solicito
us. When they were ushered into the Adjutant’s office, the man at the desk stood and bowed and offered Elizabeth and Hoyt chairs. “You have my condolences, Mrs. Stiles, and that of the entire fort. While you don’t need confirmation of your experience, it might be of some satisfaction to know that the raid is validated by a news report in the Leavenworth paper.” He picked up a newspaper from the corner of his desk, unfolded and refolded it, and handed it to Hoyt, who read aloud from it.
DAILY TIMES, LEAVENWORTH KS,
October 19, 1862
Another Raid.
Quantrill in Kansas!
Shawneetown Burned!
A report reached us last evening that Quantrill, with a portion of his band, visited Shawneetown on Friday, burning thirteen houses and killing two men. After robbing the citizens of such articles as seemed desirable he made an about face and left for his old haunts in Jackson county.
Elizabeth bent at the waist and began to cry.
Hoyt asked, “May I keep this?”
The man behind the desk nodded. “We will do what we can to bring the killers to justice, Mrs. Stiles, Col. Hoyt. Is there anything today we can do to help you?”
Hoyt shook his head and thanked the Adjutant. He led Elizabeth by the elbow out onto the porch. “I’m going to take you to the officers’ quarters and then do some business. I’ll come back for you and we can send a telegram to your sister-in-law.”
The ride back to the inn was quiet and they arrived after dark. While Mrs. Bartles fixed them supper, Elizabeth put her children to bed. After supper she sat at the table with Hoyt. “If I get good news from my brother-in-law, I’ll take my children to Washington as soon as I can. I think that’s best.”
“I can arrange military passage from Atchison on the train. There will be guards and I’ll outfit you with a pistol. Have you thought about what you’d do, where you’d go from there?”
“I could stay in Washington. That might be harder than if I leave. I’ve thought about going to Chicago.”
“And you could come back here. I want you to consider it while you are gone. If you are interested in working for the Union, there are many ways to help.”
“I’ve thought about it, but I won’t work as a nurse. I can still feel Jacob dying in my hands.”
Before she left, Hoyt gave her a leather case. “Here are some documents I would like you to deliver for me. There is also a list of people who might be able to help you, along with a letter of introduction from me. Have a safe trip, Mrs. Stiles, and I hope to see you again.”
Elizabeth took the envelope and thanked Hoyt. “If I don’t return soon, I will send a letter regarding my whereabouts. You’ve been a godsend to us, Col. Hoyt. Thank you.”
Hoyt assigned one of the men to ride up to Atchison with Elizabeth and the children and put them on the train to St. Joe. From there they rode to Hannibal and then on to Washington, where Elizabeth met with Lafayette Baker, who gave her a copy of the newspaper from Lawrence, Kansas.
“I’d say your champion has done it again, Mrs. Stiles. I hope he can stop Todd and Quantrill, for your sake and for all our sakes as well.”
LAWRENCE REPUBLICAN
November 6, 1862
THE QUANTRILL HUNT.--Captain Hoyt, with a detachment of Independent Scouts, arrived in this City this morning. The Captain says that his company has been in the saddle for two weeks, with Col. Burris’ force, hunting Quantrill and his men. He reports Quantrill’s band dispersed and were driven south. Several of his men were captured by Captain Hoyt, from one of whom important facts were learned concerning Quantrill and his gang. The names of his associates and friends were learned. Parties in Leavenworth, Kansas City, and this place are said to be implicated. Captain Hoyt said that Quantrill will soon be back at his old haunts. He also says there is no doubt Quantrill contemplated a raid upon Lawrence. A good many contrabands chose the opportunity of Captain Hoyt’s escort to leave Missouri for a land of freedom.