Before Lawrence: September 20
Chapter twelve of Before Lawrence, Jayhawks are spotted moving toward Osceola.
This is the twelvth chapter of Before Lawrence. To learn more about the purpose of writing this story, check out the “Forward.” Before Lawrence is part of The Missouri Chronicles. Follow the story by subscribing on Substack, contribute your thoughts, and check out the added resources.
James Lane sat nervously outside his tent. The previous day was a turning point for he and his men, crossing the Marais des Cygnes River at Papinsville. He had spared the town and the ferry from destruction knowing that a day may come when his men may need to escape from this region and the ferry was the only one in operation for miles around. This small river was his Rubicon. The risks were considerably greater as they were now deep into enemy territory. What was waiting for them?
That question would be answered before he could finish his breakfast. Captain Jennison walked up to the tent with a civilian standing behind him.
“General, this man has information about Osceola.”
The man stepped forward.
“Obediah Smith.”
“I have heard about you. A preacher, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, what have you to tell me?”
“This much I know about Roscoe and Osceola. General Price has pretty well stripped St. Clair county of all fighting men. I hear that the town militia has 400 men, but I must say I have never seen more than 100 men at any one time. I would say half of them are busy with the harvest on their farms.”
“Anyone watching for us?”
“Believe so. I heard them talking about sending scouts. But I saw none.”
“What do you know about what sits in those warehouses? Ammo? Food?”
“Plenty of food still in the warehouses. Did not see much ammo. But what I did see was a lot of whiskey.”
Lane laughed. “I’ll be sure the men stay away from that. What about slaves? Haven’t seen many, surprisingly.”
“Osceola has a few. Most on the surrounding farms. I would guess two to three hundred.”
“Tell me about the town, how it is laid out.”
Obediah Smith mapped out the town, marking the streets in the dirt. He also marked out where the road from Roscoe crossed the Sac River and the bluffs above. There was no other way to approach the town.
“Obediah Smith? You have been a big help. We are about to break camp and ride toward Roscoe. See what you can pick up at the food wagon.”
Meanwhile, nearly 30 miles to the east, Francis Chouteau and Philip Jackson gazed over the Sac River valley toward the west. It was about mid-morning when they got their first hint that something was up. Chouteau remarked to Jackson, “You know, Philip. Sometimes we get lucky. Looks like the Red-Legs may be a bit sloppy.”
Jackson looked in the direction Chouteau was pointing. Rising above the western horizon were two thick black columns of smoke about a mile apart.
Jackson guessed what Chouteau was thinking. “Looks like they are burning farms.”
“Well I pray that they don’t cross this river and pass my farm.”
As the sun crossed the sky, one column of black smoke emerged after another, marking the progress of the Red-Legs. It appeared they had crossed the Marie-de-Cygnes river at Papinsville and were heading up toward the Osage River.
“Philip, head into town and warn them. Whether it is you or someone else, meet me here. Make sure Weidemeyer knows.”
So it was that by sunset Jackson rode into town and announced the news. The town square was pretty well clear of traffic, farmers returning to their farms and townsmen preparing for supper in their homes. But Daniel Morgan was still at his desk in the courthouse. He rang the bell. Soon several men appeared at the courthouse. Runners were sent out to spread the alarm.
One of the runners dashed to the home of William McClain, one of the bankers in Osceola. The board of the bank met that evening at the bank.
McClain came to the point, simple and direct, “Men, we cannot tarry. Those Red-Legs know full well that this town has gold sitting in the bank. That gold belongs to the depositors who live in this town. Tomorrow, I will open the bank and return what I can to the depositors. The Red-Legs can do what they will to this bank and to the bank vault, but they may never find the gold we hide all over this countryside.”
So word was sent out to the depositors. Some of the major shareholders lived miles away. Returning to his home, McClain said to his wife, “Thank God we sent most of the gold to St. Louis. But we have a lot still here. No matter how you look at it, times are going to be hard in the years to come.”
On the patio behind the Johnson home sat Cindy and Alice. It was late in the evening, but the moon was full. They were soon joined by Missy.
Missy was quick to ask, “Have y’all been talkin’ ‘bout the Jayhawks?”
Alice responded, “Yes, Missy. Not sure what to make of it.”
“I know what to make of it. In a couple of days, we might be free.” She would have shouted it, but she knew better.
“Free from slavery, sure. But what else may happen? We are a bunch of women and I hear them Jayhawks are nothin’ but thieves and murderers.”
Missy asserted, “Alice, you don’t know that fo’ sho’.”
Cindy said nothing. But her silence spoke volumes to those two other women. Missy asked, “Cindy. What do you feel about this?”
She thought for a moment. “Missy, I would love to be a free woman. It nearly brings me to tears to think a day would come when I could come and go as I please. But I have a good home here. The Johnsons have entrusted me with this place. Whether I am free or slave, I stay here because it is the right thing to do.”
For David Anderson, as the new schoolmaster, he had to consider whether to keep the school open or not. The Jayhawks may never come. They may come and go during the weekend. Tomorrow would be Saturday. He would call the board together, if that would be possible.
As for Paula, she was not doing well. Bernice had tended to the needs of the home faithfully. For Paula to make it to the dinner table was a feat unto itself. This evening she remained in her bed. Bernice said nothing in regards to what she had already learned. Like Cindy, she had mixed feelings. She would love to be a free woman. But she was an older woman and she felt obligated to care for Miss Anderson.
David was also very discreet about the news. The last thing he needed was for the children to be living in fear.
A block away John Weidemeyer was gathering a group of men in his home.
“We’ve got to know who we can count on to be here. I want you all to go and spread the word in this town tomorrow morning. There are twelve of you here. I am going to ask for eight volunteers to ride to the farms tonight, going in pairs. If all goes well, we should have the men assembled at the courthouse by noon tomorrow.”
© Copyright 2024 to Eric Niewoehner
Previous Chapter: September 19 — Neighbors
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