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ol shots along the border? Bill Anderson, Todd, Jarrette, Little, McGuire, Long, Bill McGuire, Richard Kenney, Allen Parmer, Frank James, Clemmons, Shepherd, Hinton, Blunt, Harrison Trow, and the balance of the older men did the most of the killing. They went for revenge,
and they took it. These men killed. They burned. The Fed
scarcely any attempt to come to the rescue of the
them in check. It was a day of darkness and woe. Killing ran riot. The torch was applied to every residence; the air was filled with cries for mercy; dead men lay in cellars, upon streets, in parlors where costly furniture was, on velvet carpets. The sun came up and flooded the sky with its radiance and yet the devil’s
work was not done. Smoke ascended into the air, and
the crackling of blazing rafters and crashing of falling walls filled the air. A true story o
f the day’s terrible work will never be tol
d. Nobody knows it. It is a story of episode
s, tragic—a story full of collossal horrors and unexpected deliverances. Frank James, just as he
at the Federal’s head—heard an exceedingly soft and penetrating voice calling out to him, “Do not kill him for my sake. He has eight childrebeautiful girl just turned sixteen, blushing a
t her boldness and trembling before him. In the presence of so much grace and loveliness her father was disarmed. He remembered his own happy youth, his sister, not o lder than the girl beside him, his mother who had always instilled into his mind lessons of mercy and charity. He put up his pistol. “Take him, he is yours. I would not harm a hair of his head for the whole state of Kansas,” said James. Judge Carpenter was killed in the yard of H. C. Clark, and Colone
l Holt, one of the Confederate officer
s with the expedition, saved Clark. He saved others
besides Clark. He had been a union man doing business in Vernon County, Missouri, as a merchant. Jennison, belongi
ng to old Jim Lane of Lawrence, noted “nigger”
thief, robber and house burner, who always ran from the enemy, raided the neighborhood in which h
e lived, plundered him of his goods, burnt his p
Confederate army for revenge. The notoriou
s general, James H. Lane, to get whom Quantrell
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    latter camp there were twenty-one infantry, eighteen of whom were k

    illed in the first wild charge. Cole Younger had dragged from his hiding place in a closet a very large man who had the asthma. In his fright and what with his hurry the poor man could not articulate. Younger’s pistol was against his heart when his old wife cried out,

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    “For God’s sake, do not shoot him. He has not slept in a bed for

    nine years.” This appeal and the asthma together, caused Younger to roar out, “I never intended to harm a hair of his head.” Todd and Jarrette, while roaming through Eldridge’s house in search of adventure, came upon a door that was locked. Todd knocked and cried o

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ut that the building was in flames and it was time to get away. “Let

it burn and be d——d,” a deep voice answered, and then the voices of three men were heard in conversation. Jarrette threw his whole weight against the door, bursting it open, and as he did so Todd fired and killed one of the three, Jarrette another and Todd the third, who were hiding there. They were soldiers who had escaped in th

e morning’s massacre, and who did not even make an effort to defend themselves. Perhaps the number killed will never be accurately known, but I should say there were at least one thousand killed, and none wounded. The loss of property amounted to151 the enormous sum of $1,500,000. The total buildings consumed were one hundred and eighty-nine. In the city proper Quantrell had one man killed and two wounded. The man who lost his life was drunk when the firing began. His name was Larkin Skaggs, and the fighting at Lawrence was the first he had ev

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