Disguised as a cattle trader, Lieutenant Fletcher Taylor, now a prominent
and wealthy citizen of Joplin, Mo., spent a week at the Eldridge house in
Lawrence, Kansas, from which place had gone out the Jayhawkers who in
three months just previous had slain 200 men and boys, taken many women
prisoners, and stolen no one knows how many horses.
At the house of Capt. Purdee on the Blackwater in Johnson county, 310 men
answered August 16, 1863, to the summons of Capt. Quantrell to hear the
report of Lieut. Taylor’s reconnaissance.
The lieutenant’s report was encouraging. The city itself was poorly
garrisoned; the camp beyond was not formidable; the streets were wide.
“You have heard the report,” said Quantrell when the lieutenant finished.
“It is a long march; we march through soldiers; we attack soldiers; we
must retreat through soldiers. What shall it be? Speak out. Anderson!”
“Lawrence or hell,” relied Anderson, instantly. With fire flashing in his
eyes as he recalled the recent wreck from which his sister had been taken
in Kansas City, he added: “But with one proviso, that we kill every male
thing.”
“Todd?” called Quantrell.
“Lawrence, if I knew that not a man would get back alive.” “Gregg?”
This was Capt. William Gregg, who still lives in Kansas City, one of the
bravest men that ever faced powder, and in action the coolest, probably,
in the entire command.
[Illustration: William Gregg]