The Lawrence Massacre by R. Cordley in 1865

Lawrence Massacre - Page 5

One of the guerrillas went to the stable of J. G. Sands, corner of Pinckney and Tennessee Streets, stole his carriage horse and the pet pony "Freddie," while engaged in this, four others came up the alley, one of them was heard to say, "why in h____ are not these houses burnt." Dismounting to execute their threat, they were met by "Freddie" running past them, who had escaped from his captor, they were urged to assist in securing the runaway, at once remounting they all followed him, who lead them away from this part of town and before he was again secured they were engaged in other scenes of murder. This providential escape of the pony undoubtedly saved, not only the houses, but also the lives of Dr. Fuller, B. W. Woodward and J. G. Sands.

G. H. Sargeant's was on New Hampshire street between Winthrop and Henry. Early in the day the guerrillas entered the house and robbed the inmates of all their valuables. Notice was given them to remove furniture as the house would be burnt. Before applying the torch one of the party assisted in carrying out the piano. During the burning Mr. Sargeant, Charley Palmer and a Mr. Young, a printer, were in the yard, also Mrs. Sargeant, a sister of J. G. Sands Esq., and Mrs. Mary Hanom.

Missouri Guerillas

A squad of ruffians fired a volley into the men killing Mr. Palmer, wounding Mr. Sargeant, but missing Mr. Young, who dropped and feigned death. Noticing life in Mr. Sargeant one of the men coolly reloaded his pistol saying he "would soon finish him." Mrs. Sargeant at once fell on her husband's prostrate body, begging for his life, but the murderer placed the pistol above her shoulder and sent a ball crashing through his head. Mr. Sargeant survived eleven days. By this time the body of Mr. Young was terribly scorched by his nearness to the burning building, but his presence of mind saved him. The ladies dragged him into the weeds, in line with the other bodies, covered them with sheets and were know more molested.

The courage shown by these ladies is seldom matched by the soldier's in the excitement of a battle. On every side men were falling, close to them Mr. Williamson was killed, near them Mr. Hay was shot down. Bullets were flying all about them, but they stood guard over the dead and dying.

The residence of F. W. Read was probably visited by more squads than any other place, as it is situated in the heart of the city. Seven different bands called there that morning. Mr. read had been drilled with his company the day before and had left his gun in the store, he started for it but was met at the door by robbers and retreated back into his house. He ran up stairs and raised his head up to look out of the window, when a bullet struck the window sill within six inches of his right eye, the squad piled bedding and books at the foot of the stairs and set it on fire to burn him out but Mrs. Read put the fire out. The next squad were for stealing, after demanding as they all did fire arms at first, they wanted money next and then helped themselves to whatever they could find. They found in the back side of a bureau drawer a little box containing a pair of gold and coral armlets used to loop up the dress at the shoulder of their little girl Addie who had died a few months before. Mrs. Read begged very hard that he would please not take them as they had been her little dead child's and she wanted them to remember her by, the brute replied with an oath "Damn your dead baby, she'll never need them again." The next squad went in the bedroom, turned the clothes all down, one took out a big bowie knife and cut the mattress for a yard while another lit a match to set it on fire, it proved to be a hair mattress and would not burn, they set the clothing on fire but it was put out. The next squad that rode up, only came in the house, he looked and seemed satisfied that there was not much left in the house worth carrying off, on looking around he coolly said "this is all I want Madame" and stepped up to the piano and with one jerk pulled off the piano cover which was a new and very nice one, walked out took the saddle from his horse and put it on for a saddle blanket. The next squad were half drunk and demanded with an oath who had put the fire out, Mrs. Read told them she did and would do it again, the order was given to hold that woman, a villain grabbed her by the wrists and held her in a vice like grasp, while the others piled up bedding and books on a cotton lounge under a window and set it on fire and remained inside until the smoke drove them all on the porch where Mrs. Read was dragged and held till the casing, curtains and drove them all on the porch where Mrs. Read was dragged and held till the curtains and lounge were burning up and out of the top of the window, when they let her go and said, "Damn you, you can have your home now, if you will put it out," and went away.

Mrs. Read rushed through the smoke into the bedroom, grabbed a pillow in each hand, and thus protected, shoved against the window which was so burned that it fell out on the ground and the home was saved. The next squad was commanded by and officer who inquired for Mr. Read, and was told that he had gone east for goods. "Where was your store?" She pointed to where Woodward's Drug Store now is, corner Massachusetts and Henry street, and replied there it is all burning up. One man in his squad immediately replied yes there has some one gone east from that store, there had, it was P.R. Brooks who was then clerking for Mr. Read, which showed how well posted they were and that their spies had been here and done their work only too well. Mrs. Read said "you seem to be an officer, look at this house and at that burning store and say if you have not punished us enough." The officer turned to his men and gave the command, "men go away from here and tell all the other squads no to molest these premises any more today, this family has been punished enough," and he remained on the porch for one half hour. He was the only one Mrs. Read saw that day that did not act the brute, and is believed to be a man who is of high respectability now living in Missouri. The last man that came was named Skeggs, to tell what he done would make this story too long, he was fiendish and brutal, he staid too long and was killed, the only one of the rebels known to have been killed.

Mr. Thornton had remained in his house till it was in flames. He then ran out and they shop him three times in the hips. Another shot struck him back of the shoulders, and passed clear down his back. Another shot struck his head. The rebel then leaped from his horse with a brutal oath exclaimed: "I can kill you," and pounded him over the head with the butt end of his revolver till he fell senseless from exhaustion. The man was going to shoot again, but Mrs. Thornton ran between them and prevented him, and the brute soon left. Though so terribly shot Mr. Thornton still lived, but two bullets in the hip joints could never be extracted, and he was a cripple for life.

D.W. Palmer, a gunsmith, was wounded and thrown into the flames of his burning shop. Mr. Langley lived about a mile from town. He was a fine old gentleman of sixty. He was a peaceable man, taking no special part in public affairs. He and wife lived by themselves on a small farm. Two of the pickets stationed outside the town came to the house. Mrs. Langley begged them "to be merciful: they were old people and could not live long at best." But her entreaties had not effect, they hunted the old gentlemen around the house and shot him in the yard. The first shot not doing its work they shot him again and again. They then set fire to the house, but through the energies of the old lady the fire was put out and the house saved.

There were many hair-breadth escapes. Many ran to the cornfields near to town; others fled to the "friendly brush" by the river bank. The ravine which runs almost through the center of town, proved a safe refuge to scores. The cornfield west of town and the woods east, were all alive with refugees. Many hid in the "Park" which was planted with corn. Many others who could get no further, hid among the weeds and plants in their gardens. Mr. Strode, colored blacksmith, had a little patch of tomatoes, not more than ten feet square. He took his money and buried himself among the vines. The rebels came up and burned his shop not more than ten feet off but did not discover him.

Continued Next Page

<< Previous 1 2 3 4 5 6 Next >>

From the Rocky Mountain General Store

Missouri Postcards - If you want to collect a piece of Missouri, take a virtual tour through our many Missouri postcards. Each one of these is unique and, in many cases, we have only one available, so don't wait. To see them all, click HERE!