History of Atchison County, Kansas. Sheffield Ingalls

      “ ‘The oath which you have now taken of your own free will and accord cannot rest lightly upon your conscience, neither can it be violated without leaving the stain of perjury upon your soul. Our country is now in “disorder” and “confusion;” the fires of commotion and contest are now raging in our midst, war has come to us but we cannot, we must not, we dare not omit to do that which in our judgment the safety of the Union requires, not regardless of consequences, we must yet meet consequences; seeing the hazard that surrounds the discharge of public duty, it must yet be discharged. Let us then, cheerfully shun no responsibility justly devolving upon us here or elsewhere in attempting to maintain the Union. Let us cheerfully partake its fortune and its fate. Let us be ready to perform our appropriate part, whenever and wherever the occasion may call us, and to take our chances among those upon whom the blows may fall first and fall thickest.

      “ ‘Above all remember the words of our own immortal Clay: “If Kentucky tomorrow unfurls the banner of resistance, I never will fight under that banner. I owe a paramount allegiance to the whole Union. A subordinate one to my own State.”

      “ ‘Be faithful, then, to your country, for your interests are indissolubly connected with hers; be faithful to these, your brethren, for your life and theirs may be involved in this contest; be faithful to posterity for the blessings you have enjoyed in this Government are but held in trust for thee.’

      “Response by all the members—We Will!

      “The president will then present the constitution and oath to the candidates for their signature.”

      Charles Metz, a notorious Jayhawker, whose personal appearance and characteristics are best described in an essay entitled, “The Last of the Jayhawkers,” contributed to the old Kansas Magazine, by John J. Ingalls. “Conspicuous among the irregular heroes who thus sprang to arms in 1861,” says Ingalls, “and ostensibly their leader, was an Ohio stage driver by the name of Charles Metz, who having graduated with honor from the penitentiary of Missouri, assumed for prudential reasons the more euphonious and distinguished appellation of ‘Cleveland.’ He was a picturesque brigand. Had he worn a slashed doublet and trunk hose of black velvet he would have been the ideal of an Italian bandit. Young, erect and tall, he was sparely built and arrayed himself like a gentleman in the costume of the day. His appearance was that of a student. His visage was thin, his complexion olive tinted and colorless, as if ‘sicklied over with a pale cast of thought.’ Black piercing eyes, finely cut features, dark hair and beard correctly trimmed, completed a tout ensemble that was strangely at variance with the aspect of the score of dissolute and dirty desperadoes that formed his command. These were generally degraded ruffians of the worst type, whose highest idea of elegance in personal appearance was to have their mustaches a villainous, metallic black, irrespective of the consideration whether its native hue was red or brown. * * * *

      “The vicinity of the fort with its troops rendered Leavenworth undesirable as a base of operations. St. Joseph was also heavily garrisoned, and they accordingly selected Atchison as the point from which to move on the enemy’s works. Atchison at that time contained about 2,500 inhabitants. Its business was transacted upon one street and extended west about four blocks from the river. Its position upon the extreme curve of the ‘Grand Detour of the Missouri, affording unrivaled facilities to the interior in the event of pursuit. Having been principally settled by Southerners it still afforded much legitimate gain for our bird of prey, and its loyal population having already largely enlisted, the city was incapable of organized resistance to the depredations of the marauders.

      “They established their headquarters at the saloon of a German named Ernest Renner, where they held their councils of war and whence they started upon their forays. The winter was favorable to their designs, as the river closed early, enabling them to cross upon the ice. Cleveland proclaimed himself marshal of Kansas, and announced his determination to run the country. He invited the cordial co-operation of all good citizens to assist him in sustaining the government and punishing its foes. Ignorant of his resources and of his purposes, the people were at first inclined to welcome their strange guests as a protection from the dangers to which they were exposed, but it soon became apparent that the doctors were worse than the disease. They took possession of the town, defied the municipal authorities, and committed such intolerable excesses that their expulsion was a matter of public safety. Their incursions into Missouri were so frequent and audacious that a company of infantry was sent from Weston and stationed at Winthrop to effect their capture, but to no purpose. * * * * If a man had an enemy in any part of the country whom he wished to injure, he reported him to Cleveland as a rebel, and the next night he was robbed of all he possessed and considered fortunate if he escaped without personal violence. * * * * A small detachment of cavalry was sent from the fort to take them, but just as they had dismounted in front of the saloon and were hitching their horses, Cleveland appeared at the door with a cocked navy in each hand and told them that he would shoot the first man who moved a finger. Calling two or three of his followers he disarmed the dragoons, took their horses and equipments and sent them back on foot to reflect upon the vicissitudes of military affairs. Early in 1862 the condition became desperate and the city authorities, in connection with the commander at Winthrop, concerted a scheme which brought matters to a crisis. Cleveland and about a dozen of his gang were absent in Missouri on a scout. The time of their return was known, and Marshal Charles Holbert had his force stationed in the shadow of an old warehouse near the bank of the river. It was a brilliant moonlight night in mid-winter. The freebooters emerged from the forest and crossed upon the ice. They were freshly mounted and each one had a spare horse. Accompanying them were two sleighs loaded with negroes, harness and miscellaneous plunder. As they ascended the steep shore of the levee, unconscious of danger, they were all taken prisoners except Cleveland, who turned suddenly, spurred his horse down the embankment and escaped. The captives were taken to Weston, where they soon afterward enlisted in the Federal army. The next day Cleveland rode into town, captured the city marshal on the street and declared his intention to hold him as a hostage for the safety of his men. He compelled the marshal to walk by the side of his horse a short distance, when finding a crowd gathering for his capture, he struck him a blow on the head with his pistol and fled.”

      Cleveland continued his exploits for a number of months after this, but was finally captured in one of the southern counties where he was attempting to let himself down the side of a ravine. He was shot by a soldier from above, and the ball entered his arm and passed through his body. He was buried in St. Joseph. Mo., and a marble head stone over his grave bears the following inscription, placed there by his widow: “One hero less on earth, one angel more in heaven.”

      As the direct result of the operations of Cleveland and his gang, the spirit of lawlessness grew and the people finally “took the law into their own hands.” Perhaps the best account of the lynchings that followed was given by Hon. Mont. Cochran March 17, 1902, at the time a Congressman from Missouri, but formerly a leading citizen and county attorney of Atchison. Mr. Cochran said:

      “The thieves who fell victims to Judge Lynch, while not known as Cleveland’s gang, operated extensively throughout the period of lawlessness in which no effort whatever was made to bring the outlaws to justice. After the Cleveland gang had been effectively broken up, these depredatory scoundrels continued their operations. Their last crime, and the one for which they were gibbeted, was the attempted robbery of an old man named Kelsey. He had received at Ft. Leavenworth $1,500 on a Government contract, and, upon returning home by the way of Atchison, he deposited it in Hetherington’s bank. The thieves went to his house at night and demanded the money. Of course, he could not produce it. They tortured the old man and his wife alternately for hours, and when after the departure of the thieves, the neighbors were called in, Kelsey and his wife were nearer dead than alive. The next morning hundreds of their neighbors, armed to the teeth, swarmed into Atchison. In Third street, north of Commercial, was a little log building, which had been the home of an early settler, in which was a gunsmith’s shop. Three or four of the farmers went there to have their fire arms put in order. When they came out one of them had a revolver in his hand. Two fellows standing by, seeing the farmers approaching, dived into an alley and started westward at lightning speed. The farmers pursued and at the house of a notorious character, known as Aunt Betsey, the fugitives were run to cover. The house was