was beguiled into signing a document constituting the army of defense of Lawrence a part of the Territorial Militia, and giving them authority, under his own hand and seal, to fight with teeth and toe-nails against the outside barbarians that he himself had invoked to cut their throats.  When, however, he had come to himself, and had to front the frowns and ungrammatical curses of the “Border Ruffians,” he was fain to lay the blame on the sparkling wine of the feast, and the more sparkling eyes and sparkling wit of beautiful women.

These felicitations of the people of Lawrence with Governor Shannon did, however, have a somber and awful background.  While this had been going on a boy had been murdered in the vicinity of Lawrence.  Some young men rode out to see about it, and one of them was shot and killed.  But a still more ghastly crime threw its baleful shadow over the people.  It was perpetrated two days before the Governor concluded his treaty of peace.

Thomas W. Barber and Robert F. Barber were farmers, living about seven miles from Lawrence; and on December 6th started with a Mr. Pierson to go home to their families.  These were two brothers and a brother-in-law.  They were intercepted on their way by J. N. Burns, of Weston, Mo., and Major George W. Clarke, United States Agent for the Pottawatomie Indians.  These two men shot Thomas W. Barber.  It is hard to find an explanation of their act, unless it were that they came to Lawrence to shoot down Abolitionists as they would have shot wolves on the prairie.  They had no provocation.  They rode apart from their companions to intercept the Barbers, and called on them to halt.  Thomas W. Barber was unarmed, and gave mild and truthful answers to their questions.  After the shooting the brothers started to ride away, when the murdered man said, “That fellow hit me;” began to sway in his saddle, was supported for a little time by his brother, then fell to the ground dead.  His horse also had been shot, and died the same night.  Familiar as Kansas had become with cruel and devilish deeds, there were circumstances connected with this act that made it exceptionally a blood-curdling horror.  Thomas W. Barber was a somewhat notable farmer, and had married a young wife, that loved her husband with a love so passionate that she was sometimes rallied about it by her sister-in-law.  It had been with misgivings and forebodings she had consented for Barber to go to Lawrence.  The news of her husband’s death had been kept from her; they dared not tell her.  A young man was sent to bring her into the city, whither her husband’s body had been already carried, and he blurted out, “Thomas Barber is killed!” and she shrieked, “O, my husband! my husband!  Have they killed my husband?” It has been said that so frantic were her struggles, that it was with main force they had to hold her in the carriage which conveyed her into the city.  Much has been written of the pathetic and voiceless woe of this wretched and sorrow-stricken woman, but we will spare the reader the recital.