are three men
most conspicuous in the sacking of Lawrence. Let us look at them in
the electric light of the awful _to-morrow._ Since the Kansas struggle
had begun David R. Atchison had made himself the most conspicuous
figure. He was the representative of the John C. Calhoun school of
Southern politics, and from the hour of the destruction of Lawrence he
was to disappear from public view, as absolutely as that Free State
hotel which was burned by his orders; yet he did not die--he was
simply _buried alive_ out of the public sight. He was done with the
nation, and the nation was done with him. He went back and lived on
his plantation in Western Missouri, where he was forgotten. It is said
he loved his slaves so well, and petted them so much, that they became
masters on the plantation, and not himself. He lived to see Kansas a
free State, with almost a million of inhabitants, and fairly taking
the lead of Missouri in the elements of education, enterprise, and the
highest civilization.

We have seen the crawling servility with which Gov. Shannon served the
"Law and Order" party; yet in less than three months he was to see
his office as Governor go up in smoke, as these burning buildings had
gone up in smoke. Mr. S. became frantic when he saw the carnival of
bloodshed and murder, of riot and robbery, that had been brought about
by his means. Dr. Gihon, the incoming Gov. Geary's private secretary,
reported that Mr. Shannon fled the Territory in fear of his life. When
the troubles were over he came to Kansas and sought the pity and
forgiveness of that city he had turned over to the tender mercies of a
mob of ruffians. It need not be said that he could have done no
better, for his successor, Gov. Geary, had only to speak a word and
this tumult of disorder was instantly hushed.

As the years went by the people could not believe that a man that
displayed so many good and amiable qualities could have been a party
to such outrages as characterized his administration. He died in
Lawrence very much respected.

Sheriff Samuel J. Jones strutted his brief hour on this stage in which
the play had been both a bloodcurdling tragedy and a comedy; and now
he was to step down and out. In the last act he had said, "_I have
done it!" And he had done it_! He and his fellow conspirators, whether
of high or low degree, had set in operation a train of causes that
should issue in abolishing throughout the United States that
institution of slav