[PALMYRA, K. T., January, 1858.]
BRO. HAVEN  :-Have you ever known the soul-agony of bereavement, that for a time has crushed out the consciousness of every surrounding object, save one dark chasm, into which you gaze, and gaze, as days and nights go unheeded by? If your own heart has never been wrung with anguish-if the agonizing thought, that caution, or foresight might have warded off a blow that has fallen on more than one heart, and made a home desolate, then, sir, you cannot understand the feelings we would fain express, as with eyes suffused with tears, we attempt to tell some circumstances connected with the last days of our little Edith, [copy torn: one line is missing] two years and a half ago.
There may be some reader of the Herald who knows what we mean, when we say that many times we have formed the resolution to write for the "children's department," an obituary of our precious child; but our pen has until now refused to perform its office. We have for many years endeavored to write words of comfort for other aching hearts, but could never feel, "Thy will be done," in our own great sorrow, until within a few months.
Edith Urania Lovejoy was born at Landaff, N. H., May 8th, 1849, and was borne in the arms of an agonizing father from a baggage wagon, into a cabin by the wayside, as we journeyed from Kansas City, Mo., to Manhattan, K. T., and in a few hours of unconsciousness to her, her spirit went to God, May 4, 1855, and we laid the precious casket in which it was once enshrined, away in a cold damp grave, in a lone spot, which is now "Lawrence Cemetery," and a "field of graves," and in a few hours from the time we saw the cold clods heaped upon our darling, we were obliged by the force of circumstances, to tear ourselves from the grave of our loved one, and continue our journey of nearly 90 miles, scattering our tears along the road, as we turned our eyes across the prairies that stretched away toward her grave.
The suffering of the pioneers who first landed on the soil of Kansas can never be told. We will relate a little of our history in this matter, and we doubt not, if others would speak out, their tale of sorrow would bring tears from eyes "unused to weep."
We landed in Kansas City, Mo., March 18, 1855, and Mr. Lovejoy and our only son left immediately for the Territory with a company (of New Englanders chiefly,) in pursuit of a spot to locate a town. They journeyed 140 miles, and pitched their tent at the junction of the Big Blue and Kansas Rivers, and laid out the town now called Manhattan. Our two daughters, with myself, remained at K. at the "American Hotel," to board until sent for, after a cabin had been built. During our stay of some six weeks, hundreds were almost constantly thronging the house, bringing various diseases with them, and seldom a boat load without more or less sick, until the very air in the different rooms seemed impregnated with disease and death. Within a few feet of our own room, lay at one time four men, sick with lung fever. A little farther on, in the passage that led to our room, within a short time lay two dead bodies. In another room lay our beloved Bro. D., formerly of the New England Conference, sick with fever for weeks; and many from different boarding places found a grave in Kansas City. We left the hotel, and went to a private house to board, when our elder daughter was seized with pneumonia, which had been very fatal in the community, and our younger became very ill, whilst we too were violently seized, and we feared the whole "trio" would die, and not a human face we had ever seen before to express any human sympathy. At this crisis it was announced that a boat was to sail up the Kaw River, to Fort Riley, and pass the place where the company with which Mr. L. was connected were located I immediately engaged a passage for us, for it was evident [that] to stay where we were was death; and my eldest daughter was borne from a bed sick with fever, and the other [came] down with measles on board the boat, which [copy torn] down river about four miles, and grounded, [copy torn] stuck fast for months. The passengers left the boat, some bound in one direction and some in another. One family were to pass the "Big Blue," where Mr. Lovejoy was, and by them I sent an express to him, apprising him of our danger, and I knew the hour he received the message he would start to find us; but where we could find an asylum till he should arrive, as we must leave the boat, was more than we could tell, as the community where our craft was aground were half-breed Indians and French Catholics of the baser sort; and if Pandemonium can produce a viler race than occupies that region-but I forbear. Heaven alone knoweth the full climax of woe that burst upon my spirit, when I paced to and fro the deck of that ill-fated steamer, praying every breath,
whilst the boat was grating harshly, now across one bar, and then another and I felt that when she struck, the fate of some of us was sealed; for in those filthy hovels, if even there we could find a shelter, it might prove death, in our condition.
In this dilemma, a man in the garb of a gentleman came on board, and informed us that his cabin, occupied by his family, was near the spot where the boat had stopped, and as they had started on a journey to St. Louis, and he wished to stop at Kansas City during their absence, if I would take my children there from the boat, and take care of them on the premises, I would be welcome to stop until the boat started again, or Mr. Lovejoy arrived.
In company with a fellow passenger, I accompanied him to his cabin, and, on opening the door, a horrid stench met my olfactory nerves, producing a nauseating effect, such as I seldom have felt. "How can I live here? Ah me! how little have I known of real suffering until lately!" And then the appeal to Heaven, "Why am I brought into such straits?"
There was no alternative; the passengers must leave the boat, and we must trust to God for protection. I noticed the heavy, strong door, and massive lock, and thought we could watch day and night, until help came from some quarter. There was one room only, and that unfinished, but I discovered a ponderous box, filled with "unmentionables." And Mrs. H. B. Stowe, with her rare descriptive powers, could not, in our opinion, do justice to this only receptacle of wardrobe, linen, &c., that we could discover, belonging to this fashionable woman of society, who was on a pleasure-seeking tour, leaving her home more disgustingly filthy than swine ought to occupy. Amongst the articles in said box, on examination, we discovered a dead animal of the feline species, partly consumed by decay, that produced the sickening effluvia arising from it.
We went to work with a will, and prepared a place for J [uliette] . and E. to sleep, cleaned up the cabin, cooked something to keep us from starving, fed the chickens, and attended to "chores" according to his directions, locked up the door, and threw ourselves on our knees by the bed-side of our sick ones, with about the same feelings we should have had, had the house been surrounded by bandits. We knew God would not forsake us, and felt that a guard of angels were around us. I threw my weary limbs beside my children, not to sleep, though nature was well nigh exhausted.
At a late hour, I heard a confusion of voices around the cabin, and finally they approached the door, and tried to gain admittance.
I threw myself and children on the promises of God-arose, and deliberately dressed myself and children, supposing they might be robbers, in pursuit of money, as the family were absent, and the cabin far from any habitation, in a lonely wood. I took little E., and told her not to be afraid, God would take care of us, unlocked the door, bade Juliett follow close, and as fast as my limbs would carry me through the thickets of brushwood, made my way in the darkness to the boat.
The next day he came and informed us "that he had concluded it might be some expense to admit us to his cabin"-after we had cleaned up his premises, and set things a little to rights-"and we must find a shelter elsewhere." The passengers had all left, and only one lady was now on board; and what to do we knew not, as all were perfect strangers.
An old Catholic lady, seventy years of age, came on board, it being the Sabbath, to see the boat, as she had never seen a steamboat; and she informed us that, if we could walk two miles to her cabin, we could stay there till E. recovered from the measles, as but few would permit that disease to come into their families. We started, with aching hearts, to follow the decrepit old lady, with a cotton handkerchief tied over her head in lieu of a bonnet, and O, what a "horror of darkness" fell on my spirit, as I followed this aged dame to her cabin. The darkness of the tomb cast its shadow across my pathway. I knew not how to unravel the mystery that surrounded me-something awful was before me-I felt, I knew not what-nor was the spell broken until my poor lacerated heart saw the object of its love, with the little hands folded in death. On reaching the little cabin, built of rough "shakes," we found the old lady procured her living principally by charity, and we found we could not remain there. At any rate, she wanted to do us good, and if I ever go into that region, and find the old lady living, her desire to be kind shall be amply remunerated. From thence, we agreed with a half-breed Indian woman, to stop in her log cabin till the measles had disappeared, little thinking what an awful week was before me, with a drunken Indian woman for a hostess, carrying scars upon her person, received in drunken fights. Sicker and sicker grew my child, whilst day and night I watched over her, amid scenes I dare not write, until the measles disappeared, and her lungs and brain seemed to be affected.
I said to her one day, "Edith, you are very sick, and may die, and I want you should pray to God all the time."
Ah! she was a model child, in obedience, love of her books, gentleness of disposition, and, we doubt not, regenerated at a very early age. She was always a praying child, and very early taught by the Spirit.
We must hasten. We learned Bro. Dennison's family were about starting for the Big Blue, though his children had the measles, and we hired a team to take us along in his company till we should meet Mr. Lovejoy, or as far as Lawrence. Our teamster proved to be a drunken rowdy, who stole our provisions from our carriage, and the four days we were on the road to Lawrence, when we ought to have been but two, had the terms of the agreement been carried out, we never saw Bro. Dennison, or any other one we ever knew, on the road. And O, the anguish that drank up our spirits, as we carried our dying child in our arms by day, in a ponderous vehicle, until nature gave way, and at night laid her on the filthy floor of an Indian wigwam, and sat on the floor by her side, weeping and praying the live-long night; while she begged piteously to be laid on a bed, as "her head ached worse on the floor;" but her mother had no bed for her dying child. Ah! those four days-the sorrows of forty years we had passed through, were as nothing, till then.
The fourth day, we reached what is now Lawrence, (then a few cabins,) about an hour after Mr. Lovejoy arrived, he having started on foot, as soon as he received the message, and weeping and praying, he had traveled on foot about ninety miles in three days, with nothing to eat but [copy torn] biscuit, made (by the men) of flour and water and slippery elm bark to chew.
Our precious child opened her eyes and looked me full in the face, said, "Mother, you are good," and the last word was spoken [copy torn: three lines jumbled] and when, a few months after, the Lord placed in our care another child to train for the skies, then only did we seem to awake from the reverie, and feel that we had something still to live for.
We have tried to cling to Jesus during two years and nine months that we have been in Kansas. Though we have passed through what we never dreamed of in New England, God blessed us wonderfully last fall, and we never felt more like counting all things but dross, that we may win Christ.
God is pouring out his spirit on Mr. Lovejoy's mission, and we think as many as fifty have joined the society. It does our souls
good to see God converting sinners here. We never expect to feel at home in Kansas, though, if we can enjoy health when warm weather returns, we may live and die here. Such another field to do good in, we do not think can be found; therefore we are glad we can labor for God and freedom here, where sin abounds. "Let me do and suffer all the will of God," is my prayer. Kansas must be redeemed and saved, and we want a hand in helping on the good work.
The political heavens are gathering blackness, and we know not how soon a storm of wrath will burst upon our heads. What does Mr. Buchanan mean? Is there no redress for this insulted people? No hope from Congress? Ah, sir, the Eternal will ere long smite our enemies with the rod of his wrath, and vex them in his sore displeasure; and they shall know against whom they have been madly contending. Will our dear brethren still pray for us?
Yours, for truth and justice,
JULIA LOUISA LOVEJOY.
[PALMYRA, K. T., March 16, 1858.]
MR. EDITOR  :-If you will allow me a space in the Herald to answer some less than a "thousand and one" questions about Kansas, you will remove a burden from my shoulders that I have been bearing for weeks past; and instead of diminishing it by sending off letters in "parcels," they come thicker and faster, until a "heap" is now piled up on my writing-desk, clamoring for an immediate answer. It has been a serious tax on our time to answer half the letters that have been pouring in upon us, and but few seem to think that the missionary's salary in Kansas is very small, and forget to enclose even a postage stamp when they write on their own business. Now this is a trifling expense, singly and alone, but the amount when added up is of some importance.
Is it not strange that intelligent New Englanders, who have such facilities for knowing about "Kansas matters," should in almost every instance ask the same questions, again and again, that we have answered repeatedly through the press, both secular and religious? Now, once for all, we would say, that Palmyra is ten miles south of Lawrence, and forty or forty-five from Kansas City. Within a circle of fifty or sixty miles from this place there are plenty of claims yet untaken; there is a sufficiency of timber for all practicable purposes in every part of the Territory, as far as we can learn, and generally springs, of as clear, good-tasting water as
in New England, by digging for wells, sometimes from twenty to forty feet on the open prairie! We have ever found water soft enough for washing in every locality we have yet visited. A man can buy "shares" or single lots, in every town in the Territory, if he is so disposed, but cannot legally hold more than one claim of one hundred and sixty acres. Many have endeavored to evade the law, and have done so by hiring others to hold claims for them. "Jumping claims," has caused some cold-blooded murders in different parts of the Territory. Many have taken claims, and left the Territory in haste, to escape the bullet of the border ruffian, and returning, find another in possession of their "claims;" then comes the "tug of war." The region around Palmyra was first taken by pro-slavery men; the most rabid fire-eaters of this party fled to Missouri, with their families, in "war times," and others coming in jumped their claims, in their absence. One of our nearest neighbors did so, and has held the claim unmolested for more than a year; but he had occasion recently to go to Kansas City for provisions, and the former owner of the claim lived in Westport, through which he was obliged to pass, and report has come back, that he was found lying in his wagon, shot dead. This pro-slavery man boasted when he lived here, of the many he had murdered. We have no doubt but for years to come, though there may be no general outbreak, pro-slavery men who have a pique against prominent Free State individuals will pick them off, if they can without detection, when they fall in their way. One correspondent inquires about the streams of water in the Territory. The Kansas and Big Blue Rivers, with creeks in deep ravines usually that intersect the country in every direction, are all the streams we have seen, though in the southern part there are streams like our brooks and small rivers in New England, we are told; and in the Northwest, Republican and Smoky Hill Forks. These creeks are so small in the summer that they are usually forded; sometimes the banks are so full that in attempting to cross, teams have been drowned. Steam mills, if not built near a river, are supplied from wells, dug for that purpose. Timber for building, such as black walnut, cottonwood, &c., is plenty, though high-priced, $30 per thousand, and some have bought pine at $60 per thousand, at Kansas City, brought from the North on steamboats, in preference to the timber of the Territory. Many build of stone, or concrete houses, for from $800 to $1000 or $2000, just as they can afford. House rent is from $12 to $50 per month. In most of
the towns a lot will be donated provided a man erects a dwelling thereon. A man can build himself a comfortable residence, by doing the work himself, for $150 or $200, without plastering. We are now occupying one, and have been for about a year, built of logs, with the interstices daubed with, (we guess) clay and lime, or some substance akin to it. We have lived for months with neither floor nor window, where poisonous serpents would trespass within our precincts, and we assure our lady friends we thought it quite an addition to our comfort to have rough boards laid down, as an apology for a floor.
Good mechanics of every kind are wanted here, though money now is hard to be got. It will cost a man about $40 or $50 to come from Boston to Lawrence, K. T., by railroad to St. Louis, and steamboat from thence to Kansas City, Wyandot, Quindaro, or Leavenworth-it is immaterial at which place he stops, if he wishes to reach Lawrence. It is about forty or fifty-five miles to Lawrence from either place; by stage, $4 or $5 fare. Flour in Lawrence is $3.50 per hundred; pork 17 cents per pound; lard, 16 3-4 cents; sugar, 7 lbs. for a dollar. We should advise all who come this spring in pursuit of claims to go some two hundred miles in a southwesterly direction from Lawrence; or if they start from Kansas City (which we should do) go in a westerly direction, and strike for a place called "Walnut Creek," or "Eldorado,"  where a town has recently been laid out, in a fine farming country, with plenty of wood. Emigrants can purchase oxen at Kansas City, for about $100 per yoke; wagons for about $75; cows, we think, for $20 or $25, for they are $30 here, and first rate at that. Potatoes here are $1, and $1.25 per bushel. If we were now coming into the Territory with our present knowledge of things, we should buy a team and provisions, provided our family were along with us, bake our cakes, or "bread," and fry our ham or bacon in what the Westerners call a "skillet,"we Yankees, call the same important utensil "spider, or frying-pan,"-make our coffee, &c., by kindling a fire by the wayside, and then by procuring a mattress they can lodge very comfortably in their covered wagon, and save large "bills for lodging." Many a lady delicately reared has found sacks of meal or flour, with bedding thrown over them, answer finely to rest their wearied limbs upon.
O could we have known three years ago about
pioneer life as we have since learned, we are not sure but we should have
flinched, and our hearts quailed within us for a season; but we should have come
to Kansas, notwithstanding-we can bear the thought of everything we have passed
through, but the agonizing reflection that our own loved child so early died a
martyr to intense suffering, caused by having no quiet resting place; no place
for her aching limbs but a rough baggage-wagon, and no cordials to restore her
sinking, feeble body. . . . Kansas is saved at last; and let one universal anthem
of Hallelujah to God, go up from every New England heart that throbs for human
freedom. . .
JULIA LOUISA LOVEJOY.
PALMYRA, K. T., May 27, 1858.
BRO. HAVEN  :-Having just returned from a tour of a hundred miles in the Territory, as far northwest as the mouth of the Big Blue River, I thought it might be of some interest to our dear New England friends to learn of the rapid progression of this interesting part of the Territory. Lawrence has been so often described that we will tarry this lovely morning to make but a few calls, without alighting from our carriage, though we discover some new tenements almost every time we visit the place, and some streets so changed that we hardly recognize them. Now, dear reader, just keep pace with us, if you please, and we will point out as well as we can the different localities through which we pass; and if you are an admirer of the beautiful, whether in nature or art, you will not have gone ten miles before you reach the superlative in old Murray's comparisons, and almost feel oppressed with the beauty of the panoramic view that stretches out as far as vision can reach. Such farms as can be seen nowhere but in the great West; the "live-fence," so uniform, enclosing 160 or 80 acres; elegant mansions, built of stone, concrete, and black walnut, or tastefully built cottages, peering out among green foliage.
Six miles above Lawrence, the road turns to the right hand that leads to the world-renowned city of Lecompton, hidden from view, save the stone church built by the M. E. Church, South, that stands on an elevation, and a few other buildings. On we jog, and fifteen miles from Lawrence we reach the town of Big Springs, so called from several large springs, from which beautifully clear water in
abundance gushes forth. The place was too destitute of trees and shrubbery to suit our taste; some good dwelling-houses, and a church, once nearly completed, of concrete, owned by the United Brethren; but we were sorry to see one side of the roof lying on the ground, carried some distance by the force of the wind. This branch of Christ's church are very numerous in Kansas, and as far as we have learned are devotedly pious, and doing great good.
A few miles farther brought us to Tecumseh, which is a town of rare beauty. "Indeed," Mr. L. and myself exclaimed, "the prettiest place in Kansas." The houses are not huddled together, like many other places, but spread over a broad area, interspersed with groves, which gives quite a rural appearance to the whole. There are, we should judge, 150 or 200 houses, perhaps more, as some were half hidden by trees, and a number of edifices that equal in beauty anything we ever saw. These were built of beautiful stone, in a circular form, two stories high, with eight sides, and large windows constructed like folding doors. Perhaps this may meet the eye of some architect, who can give a better description of these new-fashioned, but we think model houses. Southern aristocrats have much wealth invested in this town, and many of the inhabitants are pro-slavery.
A few miles farther and we come to Topeka; this, too, is a beautiful town, the site surpassing Lawrence, though not so large. We thought there were two hundred houses, many of them of brick and stone, and some very large, imposing structures, for various purposes. The Methodists and Congregationalists have each a stone church going up, that will be ornaments to the place. Here we spent two nights with a dear family that was one of our "stopping-places" on our "first circuit," Fryeburg, Me., twenty-four years ago, with David Copeland, of blessed memory, for a colleague. The hospitable board of A. Whiting, Esq., has been spread for the weary itinerant in Fryeburg, and Saco, Me., and Lawrence, Mass.; and wherever he spreads his tent, even on the plains of Kansas, he says to the herald of the cross, "come, and be welcome." Heaven reward the dear family, and bring them all to heaven at last!
At Topeka we crossed the Kaw River on a bridge! The go-aheadative spirit of the Yankees has spanned the Kansas River with the first bridge ever built across it, at a cost of about $10,000, I think, we were informed. A part of this is a drawbridge, to permit steam boats to pass .79 Three miles from this bridge we reach the town of
Indianola.  This land belonged to the Delaware "trust lands," and was sold last year for about two dollars per acre; now fifty dollars could not buy an acre near this town. And, Mr. Editor, were it not that you might catch the "speculating spirit of the times," which is very infectious hereabouts, I would like to have you leave your sanctum long enough to spend a few weeks in gazing at nature along the Kaw valley, just as she was fashioned by the Hand Divine.
A few miles farther on, and we strike into the Pottawattomie lands, where for thirty or forty miles the monotony of the scene is scarcely changed. Vast bottom-lands, six or eight miles in extent, and as level as the floor of a house, waving with tall grass, and here and there, herds of swine, fat cattle and horses, that roam at large, owned by the Indians; now a log house, neatly white-washed, a corn patch of a few acres fenced in, meets your view, while hundreds, yes thousands of acres of heavy timber stretch all along, we think unbroken, through the Kansas valley. Thousands of acres of as rich land and choice timber as the sun ever shone upon, unoccupied, owned by these lazy Indians. O how many, many times we wished that poor working men in the East, who need farms, or poor Methodist preachers, who have always sung so truly, "No foot of land do I possess," could have the doors thrown open to them here in this paradise, and find a home for their dependant families in their old age. Occasionally we crossed a "toll bridge," (across some deep chasm or creek) kept by an Indian, for you are aware this is the Government road from Fort Leavenworth to Fort Riley. Thirty miles this side of Manhattan you come to the Pottawattomie, a Catholic mission  ; here are perhaps 250 or 300 houses, that stretch along the road at intervals for miles, including those that cluster near the church. This is a large white building, with a cupola, or spire, surmounted by a "cross." We noticed, too, in the graveyard near by a large wooden cross, and thought how little they understood the true signification of the cross! There are a number of two story white, or cream colored homes, near the church; these, we think, are for school purposes, or residences of those who have charge of the school; the remainder are built of logs, very good-looking. The head of this mission for twenty years, I think, has been Father
Durand,  a Catholic priest, formerly from Canada. He was drowned this spring, with three others, in attempting to descend the Missouri River to St. Louis in a skiff-one was a Mr. Limurst, of Maine, returning after his family. Poor man! I saw his claim, joining Manhattan, his cabin built for the reception of his family, and had an interview with his lonely son, who remained in his cabin. So it is in this tearful vale! The beautiful farms around the mission gave evidence that the leader and guide was not there. The Indian will not work usually unless forced to it. Shall I here give some of the classical names of these Indian nabobs-" Sambo," "Johnnycake," "Blue-Jacket," "Greyeyes," &c. Every one can select 200 acres of land where he pleases in the tract appropriated to his tribe, and many of them own more cattle and horses than any New England farmer can boast of. We reached Manhattan about sundown, which is 60 or 70 miles from Topeka, from whence we started in the morning.
This was our first home in Kansas; but O how changed! Our little log cabin, the first cabin built in Manhattan, has been removed to the banks of the Blue, and sacrilegiously converted into a stable, and near its former site is the tastefully built residence of Hon. Mr. [E. M.] Thurston, of Maine, one of the original proprietors of the town. I did not learn the number of houses in town, but noticed some beautiful private residences, large hotels, a number of costly stone buildings, for various purposes, and a large two-story stone building, for school purposes. The Methodists have a stone church they hope soon to have completed, and the Episcopalians and Congregationalists intend to build immediately, we were told. But we must not linger in the city, nor stop to point out the many spots where we used to weep, and weep for the "loved and the lost." We must put the lash gently to our faithful beast, jaded though he be, for one mile hence in the Great Bend of the Blue we have a treasure that we long once more to press to a mother's faithful heart that pillowed it in infancy. We drive up to the door, the watchdog barks furiously; but we rush past him, and a moment more and our only daughter is in our arms.
Praise to the living God, he hath answered prayer, and after a long separation we live to meet again. "But, mother, see what the Lord hath given me!" And, sure enough, a little grandson [Arthur]
was laid in our arms;-may its parents have grace to train it for the skies. We walked up to the mirror, and could not discover that the unexpected title, "grandparent," had added any more gray hairs to our head during the few weeks we had borne the strangely-sounding name.
Our Conference was held at Topeka the 16th of April, and Mr. L. was stationed at Sumner,  sixty miles from Palmyra, on the Missouri River, twenty miles above Leavenworth. It was named for Senator Sumner, of Massachusetts; and though only about one year old, it has about two hundred houses, a number of imposing brick blocks, a printing press, from which the "Sumner Gazette" is weekly issued by Cone & Brothers, formerly from Northern New Hampshire. The inhabitants are generally from the Eastern States. Mr. L. was on the ground immediately after Conference, and designs to move his family thither as soon as a tenement can be raised for their reception; for you may not expect to find parsonages yet in Kansas; and what Methodist preacher here can pay from $200 to $500 per annum for house-rent?
But hark! a summons at the door-exciting news! a
special messenger has been dispatched from Moneka,
 sixty miles from
this place, to Lawrence, for help! Six Free State men, unarmed, dragged from
their home without the least provocation, drove into a ravine, and shot in cold
-one a minister of the gospel, named Reed,
PALMYRA, K. T., May 29, 1850 .DEAR DEMOCRAT  : Lo! these many weeks, have ye, (faithful Chronicler of events) been talking to me as of yore, bringing me good news, and bad news, from "the loved ones at home." Thus I
have weekly listened to all thou hast had to tell me, not excepting the parenthesis, including the purely benevolent act of "the man whose sands of life had almost run out." It may prove a great misfortune that those wicked wags have thought it necessary to replenish his waning glass, with a barrel of fresh sand, forwarded at his expense by them. But contrary to my usual habit I have listened in respectful silence; not but what I have had enough to tell thee of weekly, but other cases have called for attention. It is painful that the first time I break this long silence, I should have to tell thee of the most horrid tragedy, all things considered, that has yet been enacted in the "Kansas drama." Twelve men without any provocation, dragged from their homes at noonday, driven into a ravine and shot-ten men killed and wounded-five men instantly killed! one a Baptist Missionary only just arrived in the Territory from Wisconsin.-These men perfectly unsuspecting of any danger-entirely unarmed! I stated in the notice to Zion's Herald, just forwarded to Boston, (I think) but six were at first taken, but one account received here was six, another twelve; and I prefer, when giving facts for the public, it should fall short, rather than exceed in these exciting times. We did hope that the "horrors of war" were past in Kansas, but time can only determine who will be the next victim. Only a few weeks since, a gang in the same region rode along the road, calling whom they pleased out of their houses, as they rode along, and shooting at them. One man was killed, leaning over the bed of his sick wife administering medicine to her-he fell across the bed with the exclamation, "0 God! I am shot," and instantly expired! What a scene for that poor survivor.
There is great excitement here-rumor has just reached us that hundreds are collecting at Westport to destroy Ossawattomie again, but I entirely discredit it. A couple of gentlemen called here yesterday from Kansas City-I have no doubt pro-slavery-but were loud in their denunciations of these murderers, and I think the good sense of the better part of the community, along the border in Missouri, will prompt the people to assist in arresting the murderers. There are hundreds after them.
Our friends can imagine, but not describe the feelings of a mother's heart, when I tell them that Charles was in Kansas City after a load of provisions, when the sad intelligence reached this place, and one of the murdered men was seized on the road, on the same errand as himself. I and my little boy, of two summers, were entirely alone in our cabin, half of a mile from any human habitation. It was a sleepless night, though I believe people here generally think it safe
to travel where they list. Such shocking murders committed when we thought "peace declared;" by the wholesale, too, make me sigh for the quiet of my own native hills, (i. e. after Mr. L. votes; of course we would have no man debarred from that last privilege of showing their detestation for the measures forged to enslave us, after contesting every inch of ground with the enemy for more than a "three year's siege."
I want to stay in Kansas just as long as we can accomplish an iota of good for the cause of Freedom, though the hot weather of every summer I have spent here, greatly debilitates the system, and renders me almost an invalid, for weeks and months. Already, this spring, I feel my strength diminishing, and long once more to inhale the breeze that comes direct from Mt. Washington-sacredly believing, (tho' the tho't may be considered by the reader tinctured with puerilty) that there are no streams quite so pure, no air quite so bracing, no people quite so dear to the writer, as those who live among rocks, and toil hard on sterile soil, for the bread of honesty.
Nothing can exceed Kansas in beauty, fertility, &c. but if it be the will of heaven, and if the precious dust I still love, that lies entombed in Kansas, can be removed to New England, I find still a choice lingering around the heart, to have my grave made at last among my "kindred dear," though I have oft so feelingly sung
I don't wonder now that the Ancient covenant ones carried Joseph's bones along with them, though once it seemed so strange-neither do I that the poor Indian tears himself so reluctantly from the "graves of his fathers." Kansas summers are far better adapted to the "lean and lank," like some famous editor I wot of, than those unfortunately inclined to corpulency. We may live and die here-the will of God be done.
The people en masse reject with scorn the
proffered bribe! Does Congress think we are all fools or cowards here, and not
one wise head that can delve through the meshes, and read what is beneath, or
that we would barter Freedom for gold? No doubt there are Benedict Arnolds among
us, but none, of the true metal, will heed the bait one moment.
JULIA LOUISA LOVEJOY.
PALMYRA, K. T., June l, 1858.BRO. HAVEN  :-I should not have troubled your readers with another communication from my pen so soon, to the exclusion of more important matter from the Herald, were it not for the painful feelings I experienced recently when reading a letter from Bro. I. Pipher, of Manhattan, Kansas, in the Western Christian Advocate, and since that, copied by Rev. A. Stevens, D. D., apparently with much zest and pleasure, into the Christian Advocate and Journal of April 15. Dr. Stevens heads the article thus: "Kansas Preachers." In speaking of the preachers in Kansas, of which he says they have quite a number, Mr. Pipher adds: "but we need efficient men, deeply imbued with the spirit of their mission; men who feel it their chief duty to preach the gospel of Christ, to hunt up the lost sheep and stray lambs, and gather them into the fold, and build up the church of God, rather than to become political leaders, attending political meetings and making political speeches, which is unfortunately too frequently the case here." Now, sir, the above I consider a gross wholesale libel on the "preachers in Kansas," and not a neighborhood slander, but sent broadcast wherever the Christian Advocate and Journal has a circulation, both throughout the United States and the British isles! Ought this slang to pass unnoticed, unrebuked, and the impression remain on the readers of these papers, as though there were no efficient ministers, faithful pastors, but the "Kansas preachers" are all a set of political demagogues? After all the privations these pioneer preachers have experienced for more than three years, must they now be held up to the world as "political leaders" and "political speechifiers?"
Now for the facts in the case: I happen to know well the spirit of this same Bro. Pipher toward New England Methodism, (especially if tinctured with what he contemptuously calls "abolitionism") having lived the next door neighbor to him for a year; and, by the way, the term "abolitionist," in the minds of such men is associated with Garrisonianism and Abby Kellyism. No distinction is made, and it is never noticed that we entirely disclaim any connection with such radicalism. The preachers who have been stationed at Manhattan for three years, and to whom he refers undoubtedly, are Rev. J. Dennison, and Rev. N. Trafton, both New England men, and efficient in every sense of the word-deeply pious; and though it is
This was the lithograph that brought John J. Ingalls to Kansas. he later refered to it as "the chromatic triumph if lithograhed mendacity" (See Kansas Historical Quarterly, v. IX, pp. 98, 99.)
This house stood at the northwest corner of the intersection of Eighth and Mississippi streets, Lawrence. The two lithographs here shown were made by Alexander Gardner, of Washington, D. C., in 1867.
That was the caption Gardner placed on this photograph. The place was near the Lane residence and its location in 1858 was reported as "adjoining the town." Neither house is standing today.
now their chief, would make it their only business to preach the gospel and "hunt up the lost sheep," were it not that the exceeding smallness of their salary compels them to labor some with their hands, to obtain bread for their families. By the way, I would be glad the world to know as extensively as the slander has been circulated, how much this same Bro. Pipher, who is doing a good business in the mercantile line in M., has paid for the support of those under whose ministry he has sat for three years, to aid them in their glorious work of "hunting up the stray lambs!" We knew well where the "shoe pinched" when we first read Bro. P.'s letter in the Western Christian Advocate, but we'll leave that matter for those preachers to explain hereafter to whom he refers, when they learn what has been sent forth to the world. I am very well acquainted with the labors of one of the "Kansas preachers" for three years past-I speak not of the "efficiency" with regard to talent, but I do speak of "abundant labors" in looking up the "sheep and lambs," and "gathering them into the fold." I can speak of one who has been a stranger to his own fireside two-thirds of the time he has been in Kansas, and who for the year just passed has had no home the most of the time only as he went from one cabin to another; and when he did visit his family, it was impossible for him to do so only as he crossed a vast prairie twenty miles in extent, and not one human habitation the entire distance, in all kinds of weather-sometimes riding the whole route in the rain, drenched to the skin-sometimes nature would well nigh faint under a broiling sun; and then the piercing wintry wind must be faced, until many times he has feared he might perish on the prairie, and his family know nothing of it for a long time; and the present year this same uninhabited region must be passed if he turns his face homewards.
When I read the Christian Advocate and Journal of late, a paper I formerly so much loved, I am forced to exclaim, "How are the mighty fallen!" Who can read the speech of the venerable Rev. H. Bangs, at the last session of the N. Y. East Conference, and others, on the slavery question, and not utter the same exclamation? Slavery is murdering by the wholesale of late in Kansas, men who have had no more to do with the "Kansas agitation" than has Dr. Stevens himself. What punishment would he think due to a wretched Sepoy who should raise his murderous hand to slay our good Bro. Butler, whom the whole church loves to designate as "our missionary?" Slavery has raised its blood-stained hand against the missionary of the cross in Kansas, from another branch of the church
-the deadly aim has been taken, and the man of God only saved himself from the
rage of his blood-thirsty enemies, while five of his brave companions fell dead
by dragging his wounded body into the woods. Perhaps the Doctor thinks he had no
right to be found in Kansas as a missionary. The Baptist Church in Wisconsin had
as good a right to send Rev. Charles Reed
 to Kansas as a
missionary as the M. E. Church in the United States had to send Rev. W. Butler to
India in a like capacity. Let Dr. Stevens and other apologists for the
institution take a tour of a few months in Kansas, and they will be completely
cured of their prejudices, I think.
J. LOUISA LOVEJOY.
SUMNER, K. T., June 19, 1858.[Copy torn]-So here we are in our new field [copy torn] and are highly pleased, both with [copy torn] people, and if you can have patience [to follow?] the "thought-tracks" we are now almost vainly attempting to make in the dark on paper, we will tell you something about the matter.
Sumner City is situated in the "Great bend" of the Missouri river, 20 miles above Leavenworth, and about 40 from Kansas City. There was but one cabin one year ago, and now there are about 200 good houses, hotels, stores, mills, &c., and it bids fair to outstrip Lawrence at no distant day. It is built on a succession of bluffs that stretch back from the river that gives the place a peculiarly unique appearance. Between every two bluffs living springs gush out, and form rivulets of clear, sparkling water, some of them as cold as ice water, and affording an abundance for cooking purposes for the inhabitants, of which there are now about 800, and they are still coming. Many of the houses are perched on dizzy heights, on the verge of almost perpendicular precipices above the water. Mr. Lovejoy is building a residence in one of the most romantic spots you ever saw; and, sir, if you could steal away from your quiet sanctum and take a trip to our Eden, you shall have the privilege of occupying a room perched on a bluff, covered with beautiful trees and shrubbery, planted by the Almighty's hand, and look right down in the murky waters of the mad Missouri, that will roll 150 feet below you; and from this elevated spot that is to be our future home we can almost or quite toss a ball with such precision that a passenger on board the numerous craft that ply this mighty river, might receive it, and by giving it sufficient momentum, return it to its original starting point, as the boat went whizzing by.
Our quarterly meeting is to be holden to-day and to-morrow in this place, and we are expecting the "great Head of the church" to be in our midst in power. Bro. Shaw, an old presiding elder, formerly of the Michigan Conference, is presiding elder on this (Leavenworth) district. I have forgotten to tell you that this city is named in honor of Senator Sumner,  of Massachusetts, and is literally a "city in the woods," and buildings of two, three and four stories high, peering above the trees.
The settlers in Linn County are still having war, and we learned yesterday that they had just had a "pitched battle;" did not learn which party was triumphant. You have doubtless learned ere this, of the shocking affair at Lawrence, that has spread dismay through the Free State ranks. Col. James Lane shot Col. Gaius Jenkins dead, instantly, one week ago last Thursday!  They had a long while disputed a "claim" that each wanted to get possession of, that lay west of Lawrence, adjoining the town, and on the morning the fatal deed was committed, Col. Jenkins had been heating his brain at the
whiskey shop, and with an oath on his lips, fell dead in presence of his wife, who was gazing from a window; and when he fell, rushed frantically to the spot, and clasped him in her arms as the blood spouted from his mouth on her clothes. Col. Lane was shot at seven times by Jenkins' friends, one ball lodged in his leg, where it will probably remain till he goes to the grave; another whizzed through his hair, cutting away a portion thereof, &c.; but a strange "charm" seems thrown around his person; we are sure it cannot be of a Divine character, for he is a very wicked man, though he has done much for Kansas. The weather was very warm, but the remains of Col. J. were packed in ice and preserved until Sabbath. We were present at the funeral, and never saw such a concourse of people together in Kansas on any occasion, save the army from Missouri, at the September invasion. There lay the murdered victim in a metallic coffin in front of the altar, looking like one asleep (as the shot took effect in the stomach and abdomen.) Forty-six years he had lived, and died as the fool dieth at last. There was his heart-broken wife, borne between sympathizing friends through the aisle, and there three weeping children, and an infant at home. Near the church in which the services were held lay the wounded Col. Lane, and his mental anguish it was thought might terminate his existence, though he is now in a fair way to recover.
He is to be tried for murder, but will probably
be acquitted on the ground of "acting in self-defense." O, sin, what hast thou
done! The above, we consider the worst murder that has occurred in this land of
"strife and blood," owing to the high position of both parties in the Free State
cause. "Ah! (said Col. Lane to Mr. Lovejoy) I consider this the greatest
misfortune of my life-I did not intend to kill Jenkins, only to wound him;" but
all was the sudden ebullition of anger.
JULIA L. LOVEJOY.
SUMNER, K. T., July 30, 1858.BRO. HAVEN  :-This city is all astir to-day, for the people are gathering in from "far and near" to attend a grand barbecue and political festival, for which extensive preparations have been made.  Among the speakers, is Hon. M. J. Parrot[t], fresh from Congress. "A free dinner for all" is served up in the grove by the citizens, and present appearances indicate that in one respect at least, the blessed
Saviour's command will be heeded: "the poor, maimed, halt," &c., will be faithfully represented. Whilst I write, soul-stirring music floats away to my dwelling; I see the "stars and stripes" waving in the distance, but cannot mingle with the joyous groups this festive day, for necessity alone compels me to remain at home; and you know, Mr. Editor, it is [un] truthfully said "that a secret is a burthen to our slandered sex;" so I'll out with the reason at once, and let your fifty thousand readers know the important fact that our dwelling which we have occupied for a number of weeks, has neither doors nor windows yet, and we have already suffered repeated annoyances from petty thefts here, so that a "watcher" must constantly stay "by the stuff;" and then, perchance, if his back is turned for a moment, some necessary article will come up missing. We never could realize the vexatious nature of "wholesale thieving" in New England; one must emigrate to California or Kansas, to understand that matter fully. Here, nothing of value is safe for a moment, if exposed.
Before Mr. L. left home this morning he brought me a letter, written to us by a local preacher and his estimable lady, from Western Vermont, full of words of encouragement, and tears of gratitude and joy coursed down our cheeks as we read on, and learned that we were remembered and prayed for by our dear brethren and sisters in New England. And then that sweet Missionary Hymn, so beautifully set to music by Bro. Pettingill himself; tune, "Kansas." And how it will cheer our spirits as we travel over these vast prairies, or take our "cold lunch," by some little rivulet, as we often do, to sing these expressive lines:
"Hail to the land of our toils and our sorrows,
Did our brethren and sisters understand how much good a few words of encouragement, even from a stranger's hand, does us, in these "ends of the earth," I am sure the little "missives" would be sailing up the Missouri river. Would our lady friends in New England like a tame description of the groups that are passing by whilst I write? There goes a noble animal, with the whole trio perched upon his back, two astride and the other a lady, and I am not sure but the foremost has a babe in his arms, for I can plainly see that the next in line of march has three more, and scarcely one passing but a babe seems a necessary
appendage to complete the picture. How gracefully that lady rides on her little pony, carrying her infant; and if two or three more in primitive style of her little dependencies are on the same pony, what matters it? There comes a company of young men and young women, lads and lasses; we think by their uncultivated appearance, they have come over from Missouri, for their stopping by the house, and staring through the big window-frames at us, as we sit quietly at the table writing, and their course, senseless laugh, indicate that they were not bred in Yankeedom. The peculiar fashion of the costume of some of these belles would greatly puzzle the creative genius that presides in some of the millinery establishments in the "City of Notions!"
If some idea of our mode of moving from Palmyra to Sumner will make one of the dear sisters whose husbands are members of Eastern Conferences, and who sometimes complain of the hardship of moving in the East, less disposed to find fault, a faint idea may be gained by the following account, but the like I hope never again to experience in Kansas. All things being duly arranged we set off, after long-continued rains, but indulging the hope that notwithstanding the badness of the roads, we should have ample time to complete our journey of sixty miles, between Monday and Saturday. Mr. LOVejoy drove the ox-team attached to the wagon, in which were the "household goods," whilst I followed passively, driving the horse in the buggy, at the same time holding an umbrella, our little boy, &c. We had gone but four miles, when crash went the wheel in the buggy and there was no alternative, but I must walk until we found some one in possession of tools, suitable to cobble up with; and on we went, with the wheel in the carriage, and a long rail from the fence to rest the body of the carriage upon as it dragged its weary length through the mud. At last we found a man who could assist in mending, and we went in and stopped for the night. His wife left the Territory two years ago, in the first war, and had never dared to venture back, and his cabin showed unmistakable evidence of its great need! Too tired to sit up, and yet I must cook my own supper for my family; and he was very kind in giving us a shelter. He was not a believer in Divine Providence, yet he said he believed "there was a Providence in the breaking of the wheel, for by that means he had bread enough baked up for him to last him for sometime to come!" The heat was so great we could only reach Lawrence the second night; and here commenced a series of troubles as we crossed the Kaw and struck on to the Indian land. We took an
early start, hoping to get across the dreaded reserve ere night overtook us. In this we were disappointed; the oxen came very near melting as we hurried along, panting constantly. At noon we ate our lunch in a little cluster of trees by a creek, turned the oxen loose in tall waving grass; but they were too tired to eat, and we hitched on hastily, for now and then a dark cloud rolled along, and we feared what might overtake us on these shelterless prairies. The heat increased to that of a burning oven-the noble animals with their tongues out at full length the whole afternoon, seemed almost to realize by instinct that we were endeavoring to avert something ahead. The sun was fast sinking; we dared go no farther, lest they would fall dead in the road; black clouds were rolling along the western sky, heavy thunder soon saluted our ears, and we almost held our breath! There we were, miles from human habitation, shelterless, bedless, supperless. I laid my little boy at full length on the carriage seat, whilst I sat down on the carriage-bottom, my back against the fender-board. Mr. L. laid down on the ground under the carriage, which I feared to do on account of the serpents, as the lady we left in our cabin had just been bitten, and it was thought for some time she must die. O how my aching limbs craved just one board on the floor of the dear paternal mansion; that would have been sufficient. Heavier and heavier were the peals of thunder, and about midnight, in the darkness, we hitched on again, lost our whereabouts, and finally left our goods standing in the road, and the oxen to their fate, and Mr. L. sprang on with me in the buggy to try and find a shelter before the storm struck. After a while we came in sight of a fence; we could just discern it in the dark, as Mr. L. was footing it on ahead to try and find where we were, and he said afterward he heard me cry out, "Thank the Lord for that." I thought it betokened a habitation near, but found afterward it was where the cattle belonging to Uncle Sam, for the Western expeditions, were herded. Again we entirely lost our way, unhitched the horse, turned him loose, and fatigue had so overcome my fear of serpents I was glad to lie down on the grass, and soon we heard a cock crow not far off! Mr. L. sprung into the carriage as soon as he ascertained where we were, and pulled for our lives to the nearest habitation, whose door we reached just as the day was dawning. The shower struck as we drove up to the gate, before we alighted from our carriage, and such a shower! It literally came down in buckets full. We crept into a bed that a good Doctor and his kind lady had vacated to learn who were the forlorn beings who
sought their hospitality at that unreasonable hour! At a late hour in the forenoon we were awakened by a kindly voice, who told us a breakfast was in waiting for us, of which we thankfully partook.
Mr. L. went in search of his team, which he found safe, but his goods were soaked through; but we could not unpack, and the beds, bedding, linen and clothing remained steaming and mildewing two days more till we reached Mt. Pleasant, the extreme verge of our circuit, Saturday, where our things had another soaking all night in the rain, and after it was passed we opened them to dry, and what a sight! My bonnet, one sent by the kind ladies in Manchester, N. H., two years ago, that had never been injured but a little, was entirely spoiled, so that even the materials were useless, and so with the other things. Mr. L.'s hat, my best clothing, and finally a looker on said there were $50 worth ruined, and almost every article, more or less mildewed. I bore all with good courage till I came to the beautiful large family Bible, sent me all the way from New Hampshire, by my dear aged father, as his last gift to his daughter, and when I saw that soaked through, and coming out of the binding, I wept! How could I refrain from tears? We were now within six miles of Sumner, and the roads were almost impassible by the rains, and we would go a short distance and get (as the Westerners term it,) "stalled;" and then Mr. L. must post off after a team to haul him out of the mud. He got stuck so often that I passed him, and finally, as he could not find a team in one place, I concluded I would go on and find some one to assist him. I drove along, lost my way, and endeavoring to extricate myself from my trouble, broke the shaft of the carriage in the woods, and there I was alone, with my little boy. I accordingly unhitched from the carriage, fastened the horse by the wayside, and went in pursuit of help. I halloed enough to waken startling echoes from the grove around me, and found a cabin, but the inmates were all gone from home. Some soon heard me and came to my help, and I posted them off to inform Mr. L. of my disaster, that he might not be needlessly alarmed. A corn-dodger was soon smoking in the old Dutch oven in the ashes, and a cup of Western coffee steaming before the fire expressly for my benefit, and in that unsightly cabin I rested my aching head, that for a week had been exposed to a burning sun. An old lady, an entire stranger, heard my voice some distance, and recognized it, though she had never heard of me, or heard my name, only as I was led, I believe, by the Spirit, to witness for Christ at a grove meeting held by the pro-
slavery Baptists a few Sabbaths previous. Who can question a Divine Providence even in small matters?
The next day we trod upon these premises that will soon look like a house; and though my health has suffered greatly, and is suffering this hot weather, I hope yet to do some good in Kansas.
We never felt the pressure of hard times as we
do at the present. Money cannot be got in Kansas at fifty per cent. Were it
possible to raise means, I should go East and stop through the hot season, and I
believe my health would be restored again. I have asked in prayer that a door
might yet be opened that I might once more look upon the faces of my aged
parents, and meet the family circle after so long a separation! The will of God
be done! I have today been looking over the list of camp meetings in the Herald,
Kennebunk, Stirling, Wesleyan Grove, Eastham, &c.; and O how my heart leaps
to attend them, and others, as in days of yore; and O, were it possible to
procure means in these hard times, if God willed, I would again join the praying
ones in the tented grove. Do pray for unworthy us at these several meetings, dear
brethren, though we may not meet you there, as we so much desire. The God of
battles be with you, and give you success!
JULIA LOUISA LOVEJOY.
P. S. Occasionally unimportant errata occur in
my letters, but I have never thought it best to notice them; thus, in the last,
for "live fence," read "line fence," though there are "live fences" in different
places, but not yet of sufficient growth to dispense with other fences; also, it
was not "our cabin removed, as we were told at M[anhattan, letter May 27, 1858],"
but another on the verge of the town site. Two more men have been murdered in
Linn County. They went in pursuit of their stolen horses, and were shot by
Missourians. Baker University, at Palmyra, is going ahead some, in spite of "hard
times." One stone building up, and hope to have another soon. Lawrence Republican
of this issue brings the intelligence that the Missourians are arming along the
Southern Border for another invasion. Heaven preserve us!
PALMYRA, KANSAS,MESSRS. EDITORS  :
Sept. 10, 1858.
Your readers are doubtless aware that, in June, we changed our residence, from Palmyra, to Sumner on the Missouri River. Since that time, numerous cares have prevented me from continuing correspondence with the Democrat. Two weeks since, we left our home in Sumner to attend the great camp-meeting, for the Territory in this place, where Mr. LOVejoy was violently seized with bilious intermittent fever, though now somewhat convalescent. "The pale horse, and his rider," has been making rapid strides through the Territory, and, for months past, scarcely a town or neighborhood where his noiseless, stealthy tread, has not spread dismay in families, and communities, sickness and death on every hand, caused no doubt, by the unparalleled amount of rain, and extreme hot weather. Fevers, of a bilious character, have almost universally prevailed, often terminating in sudden death, "congestive chills" have been of a very fatal character, and probably there have been more deaths in the Territory, within a few months past, than in the entire three years, previously.
But my letter will be made up of "scraps," and "patch work," whilst I sit by the bed-side of my sick husband, so I will pen what first comes to hand, "religiously," "politically" and "financially." Our camp-meeting, just closed, was a "great time," in every respect. It was holden in a grove, included in the "College grounds," connected with Baker University, which grounds, have been christened "Baldwin City," in honor of an eccentric Mr. Baldwin, of Berea, Ohio, or the founder of Baldwin University, who is expected to give a bonus, of $10,000, for the name.  You should see the millionaire, (who has been staying here for months) bare-footed, with his old slouched hat, course cotton shirt-collar, and rusty clothes. But poor man, his heart was well nigh broken during our camp-meeting. His son, the head of a family, who had been here some time, and was expecting to take charge of the school connected with the University, as Principal, suddenly sickened, and died!  O! said the
old man, I thought nothing could break my iron constitution-I thought I could pass through every thing, but this stroke has broken me quite down. There were about thirty Methodist preachers present-twenty-six at one time, on the Sabbath, knelt around the "sacramental board," and three or four had gone to their respective fields of labor. Great, and, we hope, permanent good, will result from this meeting. There were more than 1,000 persons present, and some of the best talent in the M. E. Church in the Union.
There were representatives, from the Genesee, Erie, New England, Ohio, Iowa, Indiana, Illinois, Kentucky and Arkansas Conferences. Our newly elected President  of "Baker University" was present, and electrified the assembly with his eloquence. He has been Professor in McKendree College, Illinois, for many years. We welcome him to Kansas, where he intends to sleep his "last sleep."
What do our Democratic friends in New Hampshire think of our Kansas vote? President Davis has just come up the Missouri River, and he said every thing seemed stagnant, with regard to Kansas, until the people heard the booming of cannon, that tolled the death note of "Lecompton," [the constitution,] when all along the route, from Illinois, every man's face was Kansas-ward; the depots were filled, the boats loaded, and according to present appearance there will be a heavy emigration, this fall, and we are hoping that "material aid," will come to the settlers from some source, for such a crisis, financially, has never been felt in Kansas. Money cannot be hired for 50 per cent and many will be ruined in property, by inability to meet demands. Such a distressing time, in finances, among Methodist preachers, has never been known for half a century. Having but a small missionary appropriation from $50 to $150, and such pinching times for money with the lay members, the preachers fare hard. . . . Now, if any of our New England brethren, think the age that produced self-sacrificing men and women, has quite gone by, let them call at the cabins, of a score of Methodist preachers in Kansas, and learn the fact, that there are warm hearts still beating in many a manly bosom that are willing to suffer, to help on the cause of freedom and equality, and who have pledged their all "never to flinch or yield," even, though called to face the "King of terrors," till Kansas is redeemed.
There has been so much rain, crops will be very heavy. I never conceived an idea, of the rank growth of vegetation, as I now see
it on every hand. I now write from the same little cabin, from which many a
"missive," has been sent forth to friends, and an occasional talk with "friend
Democrat," and but a few rods from the little window, near which I used to write,
corn may be measured 15 feet high, and I dare not tell the mammoth size of some
vegetables. There are weeds, that are by actual measurement, 15 or 20 feet high,
and grass is three feet above the horse's back, on one part of this claim, and in
some places on the road along which we came from Sumner.-"Charlie" will have from
1500 to 2000 bushels of corn, on this claim, as he owns 80 acres of it, and has
all the crops raised on the 160 together. If it would not discourage the New
Hampshire boys from migrating West, I would just say whilst I write, this moment,
"Charlie" has forgotten all about his big crops and is "shaking" with the ague,
at my left hand, but he loves Kansas, still, and I will venture if you approach
him, as the bed on which he new reclines, is trembling with sundry "agitations"
of its occupant, with chattering teeth, he will answer, "Let me stay in Kansas,
this terrible shaking, notwithstanding." You among the Granite hills who have not
seen or felt the effects of the "fever and ague" can hardly realize how much we
dread its approach, and this year you find but few families who escape. Its
subject usually takes his bed, every other day, and in violent cases, the "fits"
come on every day and last for weeks, and in many cases for months. Thus much for
JULIA LOUISA LOVEJOY.
PALMYRA, K. T., Sept. 13, 1858.DEAR HERALD  :-We left our home in Sumner, two weeks ago tomorrow, to attend the great camp meeting for the Territory, which commenced in this place the 30th ult., where Mr. Lovejoy was seized with intermittent fever, though now somewhat convalescent; and as we are detained here in consequence thereof, whilst I watch by his bedside, I will tell thee, thou faithful chronicler, some facts in relation to this great and good "feast of tabernacles." It was holden in a beautiful grove, on the grounds connected with "Baker University," which have been duly christened, "Baldwin City;" and their eccentric "namesake" is the founder of "Baldwin University," also, of Berea, Ohio; it is expected that a bonus of $10,000 will in due time be forthcoming as an "attache" to the name. If
you ask a description, "personally," of the millionaire, as we saw him last
week, in an assembly of perhaps a thousand, here it is: A small, unimposing man
of perhaps sixty years, an old slouched hat, a coarse cotton shirt collar, with
no neckerchief about his neck, a rusty, much worn vest, and coat, pants, (that
the lamented Watson would say) "were very much opposed to the extension of
territory," being many inches too short, and a pair of coarse shoes, completed
his attire-by the way, in warm weather the shoes are considered an unnecessary
incumbrance, and bare feet are much preferred to plod about with. Poor man! how
our hearts ached for him, as we saw him in that rustic temple, vainly endeavoring
to conceal his grief! A dear son, grown to manhood, a husband and father, who had
accompanied his parent to the Territory a few weeks since, and who intended to
make "Baldwin City" his future home, at the commencement of our camp meeting
sickened and died in a few hours, and no relative but his heartbroken father to
follow him to his grave, dug by strangers, hand, so far from kin and home. "0!"
said the bereaved parent, "I thought I could bear anything, but this has broken
my iron frame all to pieces." The M. E. Church in Kansas deeply feel this stroke,
for in him our hopes centered to help on the educational movement here, as he was
elected Principal of the preparatory school connected with the University, which
is to commence in a few weeks. "Peace to the ashes of the Christian stranger."
For thirty years we have annually attended more or less camp meetings in New
England, but seldom have we heard better preaching, or "seen more religious
interest manifested" than at our late meeting. There were about thirty preachers
present, and at one time, around the "sacramental board," on the Sabbath, twenty-
six "heralds of the cross" bowed together as members of one common brotherhood.
All! Sir, you, (Mr. Editor, I mean,) would not wonder at our emotions, as we
stood at that rustic altar, and gazed at the scene! Four years ago the next
March, single-handed and alone, with regard to a colleague, Mr. L. entered the
Territory as a traveling Methodist preacher, and only a young local preacher,
Rev. N. Trafton, who accompanied him, and the senior Dr. Still, from Missouri,
who was a little ahead of him, though others followed
have passed through the "furnace of afflictions." There are now in Kansas alone about thirty stationed preachers, and some of the most talented men in the different Conferences are now flocking in, as they find they can live here and save their scalps! There were present at our late meeting such men as Dodge, whose present station is Lima, N. Y., and who for many years has been one of the leading spirits in the Genesee Conference. Prof. Davis, of McKendree College, Ill., H. Moore, of Erie Conference, and a "Constellation" of others, all of whom named design to live and die in Kansas. There were representatives from more than half we think of the Conferences in the Union, or at least from New England, New York, Genesee, Pittsburg, Erie, Ohio, Iowa, Illinois, Indiana, Kentucky, Missouri, Arkansas, and we did not learn from what other "hailing point." There were, it is computed, more than a thousand persons in attendance, and at one time, as we strolled around the encampment from tent to tent, we found in almost every tent somebody, preachers or people, shaking terribly with the ague, as it has been general through the Territory, owing to great rains; and the "king of terrors" has been spreading devastation in every settlement, so far as we have heard from; probably more deaths from bilious fever within a few weeks, in different localities, than during the whole three years previous. Among the victims, we sorrowfully number one, whose rare virtues are seldom fully imitated, and who from the first acquaintance has seemed to us a model woman! We refer to our beloved sister Denison, wife of Rev. J. Denison, of Manhattan, K. T., formerly of New England Conference. Precious woman! I have rarely met her equal in meek, quiet resignation, in scenes most calculated to try an affectionate mother's heart. When we were stopping at Kansas City, on our way to the Territory, in the spring of 1855, she was called to lay her little Charlie, a beautiful boy, away in that stranger graveyard, and her husband too sick to superintend the interment or go to the grave with her; but she bore all with a martyr's spirit. And how she struggled uncomplainingly as the companion of a pioneer preacher, scores of witnesses will testify who will long cherish a remembrance of her virtues. O may "He who tempereth the wind to the shorn lamb," sustain that bereaved husband, and shield the five motherless ones, two Kansas born twins, too young to realize their great loss. But to the meeting again, after this unintentional wandering.
In one tent we found Rev. N. Taylor, of Neosho District, sick
with ague, unable to sit up during the meeting; in another, Bro. Dodge, of Genesee, who was undergoing the "initiatory process" in no mild manner! We begged pardon for ironical sympathy, that produced a smile instead of a tear, for we had passed through the ordeal again and again; he had been traveling extensively in the Territory, and had been perfectly carried away with its charming beauties, and had written home letters to the Northern Advocate, all a-glow with Kansas attractions; now his corpulent frame was prostrate in one corner of the tent, shaking and shivering in every limb; his teeth chattering as he raised his head from 'neath that smothering pile of bed-clothes, as we were introduced to him; his handed extended with"What a beautiful country Kansas is," "but O! this ague," "I never felt anything like it before." "This is the finest country in the world; but O! this ague," (teeth chattering) "this is the only drawback." We told him to "keep up good courage," we had all traveled the same rough way, "and 'twould soon be over." We knew he read our sympathy was all of a superficial character; now and then a groan escaped from the sufferer. In a few moments the fever succeeded, and ever and anon the interrogation, (as some new phase of the disease exhibited itself,) "What does this mean?" and the answer, "What we have all experienced." The church was greatly refreshed at this meeting, whilst one after another received the grace of God, and numbers, we believe, for the first time. One young man was converted in a tent at the verge of the background from the "stand," and rushing over seats and benches the whole length, never stopped till he reached the altar. We think there is far greater excitability among our Western brethren than New Englanders, who are bred in a clime near the frigid zone: For instance, when the Holy Ghost came down upon our ten's company, and rested upon each "like a tongue of fire," some of the Western brethren and sisters were pressing through the crowd, shaking hands with each other; (as preachers and people almost invariably do when God blesses them) others were prostrate, slapping their hands and shouting in ecstacies, whilst we Yankees could only weep and adore the great mercy of Christ risen and exalted. At another time, when a sister was telling the assembly the wondrous lave of Jesus to the fallen race, one who has long been an official member in the West, strided back and forth in front of the altar, shouting every breath, and finally ended this singular exercise by jumping up and down, and shouting till the exhortation concluded.
Now we do not mention these matters in a condemnatory spirit by any means, but as being somewhat new to us, having never seen things on this wise in New England. The good effects of this meeting we fully believe will be seen and felt for years to come in Kansas and 'twould not be strange if the halls of our prospective University, raised near the site of this hallowed spot, would hereafter re-echo the voice of some of these young men who have consecrated themselves to God! Professor Davis has for many years been connected With McKendree College, but now accepts the presidency of the first University in Kansas, and immediately enters on his duties as agent till the college buildings are complete. We welcome him to Kansas as just the man for this position; warm-hearted, whole-souled, energetic, and deeply pious; he will, if spared, make no ordinary mark on the literary institutions of Kansas. O how his sermons, full of the Spirit, fed the hungry multitude who hung on every sentence, and answered with shouts and tears!
It is a hard year financially with the preachers, notwithstanding the heavy crops. Money cannot be had at any amount of interest, however exorbitant, and some have demands that money only can meet. There was a great error committed at our last Conference, that all feel now but too late to be remedied; Bishop Janes, by the advice of the Presiding Elders of Kansas, Nebraska Conference (they not anticipating the pinching times that were to come,) carried away $1000 that should have been distributed as "missionary appropriation," and the preachers here are now actually suffering for the want of it. I will give you a few facts that I know, personally: The preacher on Palmyra circuit, his family, his wife, and I think five children, no missionary appropriation, and his Presiding Elder announced at the camp meeting he had received only $20 since Conference, last May. The one on Oskaloosa Circuit, wife and three children, no appropriation, and received about the same sum! The one on Sumner station, $150 appropriation, and has received in cash $5, and this where house rent and board is double that in New England. Each Presiding Elder in Kansas receives $400 appropriation, and we think generally, if not universally, enough from each circuit to make one or two hundred more; but this inequality will, doubtless, be remedied another year, as it justly ought to have been the present. The circuit preachers mentioned do not live on their "claims," and raise their own crops, as some
may suppose, but devote their time to the work of the ministry only as they
obliged to take time to build them a house or cabin to shelter their families.
A more self-sacrificing body of men we do not believe can be found, than those
who compose the Kansas Conference. Some of them have been through "war and
flood," now shivering with cold, then pinched with hunger, fording dangerous
streams, or wading through the water hip high; now swimming a swollen creek with
horse and buggy, or grappling with the angry waves, that were bearing off its
precious burden, (his box of books) and leaving one shoe in the bed of the creek,
ne'er to be "fished up by hook and line," and thus drenched to the skin, riding
miles in wet clothing! Now this is no fiction, but the actual experience of one
whose aching head I have this hour been endeavoring to alleviate. For the
present, dear Herald adieu.
JULIA L. LOVEJOY.
SUMNER, K. T., Nov. 23, 1858.MR. EDITOR  :-There has not been such a dearth in the "news department" of Kansas, politically, for four years, as at present; and the universal cry of "hard times" in money matters has ceased long since to be talked of as news; and if a man meets his neighbor in the street, and passes him without a "dun," or if a man unlocks his door in the morning, and locks it again at night, with the exclamation, "I have not been dunned to-day," why that may be talked over as news! I ardently wish I could tell you such blessed news for your revival department, from this far-off land, as I read in the Herald last evening, from Sister Palmer's pen, giving a glowing account of the wonderful work of God in the British Provinces. Ah l that letter caused my poor heart to exult, and with tearful eye praise God; and for awhile I longed to be with her, but I checked the desire, and cried to God to come down in like manner among the people of Kansas. O, that this awful, death-like stupor might be shaken off the minds of the multitude whose all-absorbing idea, just now, is "hard times," and the untold treasures that are awaiting their search, at the "gold mines." I see by the Eastern papers that you are already apprised of the "Pike's Peak" excitement here, and the accounts you get in New England are greatly exaggerated. Now if I can benefit any who design coming here in the Spring, I will give them information as
reliable as I can. Mr. Lovejoy recently conversed with a friend, direct from Pike's Peak, and his testimony was, "a fine country, and found gold, but had not facilities for mining purposes." Dr. S. Whitehorn, our son-in-law, who has lived in the vicinity of Manhattan for more than four years, came from there last week, and more than half a dozen men, direct from the mines, (and two, who had spent the last summer there, were loaded with gold dust,) came in there recently, the Doctor told us to-day, bringing thousands with them. He says he thinks two-thirds of the settlers around Manhattan will go there in the Spring. Already large companies from Leavenworth, Lawrence, Topeka, Oskaloosa, and other places, have started for the El Dorado, but we are inclined to think before they arrived half way to the goal, they were obliged to ensconce themselves in snug winter quarters, for the cold must be intense among the mountains. The distance from here to the "Peak" is six hundred miles, and I have no doubt the wing of Kansas Conference, at its next session, will be extended beyond the "mines," and one or more missionaries appointed to "Pike's Peak" and Utah; and, sir, we have serious thoughts of volunteering for either place!  Methinks I see one of your readers, fresh from the Biblical Institute, smile at the idea of one who has, for a quarter of a century, been in the itinerant ranks, offering himself as a missionary, with such an appalling array of hardships as must necessarily loom up before him, in either field of labor. Let such an one consider that we have, for almost four years, been learning a lesson in pioneer life, that nothing but severe experience can ever teach, and are willing and ready to plant the standard of the Messiah among the Rocky Mountains.
Sickness has abated some since the cool weather came on. There has been much rain this fall, and consequently the streams have been much swollen, so that the roads have at times been almost impassable, and many very afflicting eases of drowning, by persons endeavoring to ford or swim the creeks. The stage-driver that goes with the daily line from Leavenworth to Lawrence was drowned, and two span of horses, endeavoring to ford "Stranger Creek;" and down the same creek, not far from here, floated a dead horse, with saddle and bridle on; his owner had been unhorsed and drowned;
and how many have lost their lives in that creek, within one year, I cannot tell. Your New England readers can form some idea how rapidly that stream rises, when I tell them I have repeatedly forded the stream at the very spot where, just before, it was twenty feet deep, and seething and foaming like a boiling cauldron! Mr. L. started for Lawrence, but could not cross the stream, and returned, and waited a week for the waters to subside, and pushed ahead, as he always does when difficulties are to be surmounted. Crossing the Wakarusa, he found the toll-bridge gone on his return, and the waters rolling like a sweeping flood; but his Quarterly Meeting was to commence the next day, at Sumner, fifty miles off, and the roads in a dreadful condition, and he must get home. The danger was appalling, and perhaps the attempt rash, but the horse he held by the bit was a spirited animal, and in he plunged, and swam across the stream, with the buggy, and all landed safe on the other shore, save the fender-board was broken, and a bag of potatoes (that Methodist preachers in Kansas are very glad to carry to their families) went down the stream l His clothes were well soaked with water, but a call at a Methodist inn soon set all right again, and he went on his way rejoicing. Not so with a man, not far from the same spot, and near that time. He started to carry home his hired girl, crossed the stream as it was rising, turned about to go home; in that time the stream had risen twelve feet; plunged in with his span of horses, but all were drowned, driver and horses. We felt sad as we stood on the banks of the Missouri, at the time of high water, and saw a noble animal, with a lariat attached to him, come floating by where we stood. We spoke of the melancholy history that might be connected with his fate, were it known; perhaps he and his rider were suddenly engulphed in a watery grave; or, peradventure, he had come all the way from Nebraska, or from near the Rocky Mountains.
There is one matter connected with temporalities, (as my letter cannot be filled with anything of special interest, as I wish it might be, in matters pertaining to the prosperity of the church,) that I have long designed to mention in the Herald, to induce our New England friends to cease being duped as they have been, in buying "shares" or "lots," in paper towns in Kansas, where perhaps there are not three log cabins, to bear the name of town, or city, as the case may be, and probably never will be, or for some time to come, any more. There are towns on the Kaw and Missouri rivers, where a man may make a good investment; but ungodly speculators have
filched thousands from the honest and good in this way. A dear brother in the ministry, in the Maine Conference, who has no money' to spare, recently wrote to Mr. L., inquiring about an investment he made in "Council City," Kansas. Now that good brother was sadly duped, and would have done better with his money, for his needy family, to have purchased as many feet of land in the Aroostook region, in Maine. Many have made independent fortunes in buying "shares" in real towns, such as Manhattan, Topeka, Tecumseh, Lawrence, Leavenworth, Oskaloosa, Sumner, Atchison, Palmyra, Wyandott, &c. I hope what I have written may do those good for whom it is designed, as the information is for none else.
The boats are still running on the Missouri
River. A little snow has fallen, but the weather is mild. A large emigration has
come in from Iowa, as their crops were destroyed by heavy rains.
J. LOUISA LOVEJOY.
75. Zion's Herald, Boston, Mass.