Ringing Out Freedom:
Unitarians and Universalists in Early Kansas

Merrill E. Milham

Delivered on August 29, 2004
Unitarian Universalist Fellowship of Harford County


Reading from Garrison Keillor's story of Unitarian missionaries.


Some say that history is a true story from the human past. The main problem with this definition is the word, "true." Garrison Keillor's story of Unitarian missionaries using interpretative dance to convert Indians is not history, not a true story—although, as with all stories, it may contain truth. Would you say that there was a Prudence Alcott? That she kept a journal? That she went to Minnesota to convert Indians by interpretative dance? That she met and married that French wild man, Basile Fonteneau? I've chuckled at this story many times since I first read it over a decade ago. A little inside humor is added when the story is looked at from the modern Unitarian Universalist point of view: According to the Rev. George N. Marshall, "our people do not send missionaries abroad; we do not proselytize." I regarded this story as made from whole cloth, a humorous creation of Garrison Keillor's fevered imagination. Wrong! Ignorance, apparently, is not only bliss; it is also sometimes a good laugh.

The truth underlying this story is that there was a Unitarian mission to the Ojibway Indians in the 1850s. There were also two other Unitarian missions; one was to India and the other was to Kansas, which is, of course, what I want to discuss this morning. But where should the story begin? Time is short this morning, so let's settle for something modest and go back to New England at the beginning of the nineteenth century where we'll focus mainly on Boston and Massachusetts.

Massachusetts was the cradle of the American Revolution, and only a about a quarter of a century later the memory of this struggle for freedom was still vivid in citizens' minds. There was a fervor and ferment in the new nation's life. Democracy had become the civil religion in America, and citizens felt a direct responsibility for their governance. For example, post-revolution voters in Concord instructed their representative to the General Court not only how to vote but also set his salary and required that any overage paid by the legislature must be returned to the local treasury. At this time the U.S. Constitution and the Federal Government were only about a decade old, and debates about the Constitution and its suitability still lingered. One of the liveliest of these debates concerned the fact that the new Constitution was godless: It separates church and state completely in the sense that it contains no mention of the deity. Religion in New England mirrored civic life and was in a state of lively ferment.

The early strict Calvinism of the region had given way to Congregationalism, a milder Christianity, in which each congregation is self-governing and selects its minister by democratic process. As the nineteenth century dawned many of these Congregationalist churches were in turmoil. In a movement begun late in the last century, some congregations were voting to call Unitarian ministers. Often this resulted in contention and a split congregation. Harvard Divinity School was a hotbed of the new liberal Unitarianism and educated the ministers at the forefront of the Unitarian movement.

With the birth of this new Unitarian faith came an enthusiasm and a zeal for its spread. A missionary spirit was growing within the movement. At first this spirit was mostly within the Harvard Divinity School. Young students interested in the spread of their faith spent part of their summer vacation exploring mission work in Massachusetts. The Unitarian Church in Baltimore was the first extension of the Unitarian movement beyond Massachusetts. In 1824 the American Unitarian Association or AUA was organized. The AUA became the focal point for the Unitarian missionary spirit. But practically speaking, missions were on the back burner because the AUA was short of funding and expended most of its resources and energy on defending Unitarianism from attacks by the orthodox. All this changed in the 1850s.

The politics of slavery, the westward expansion of the United States, and Unitarian missionary zeal converged in a dramatic way in the 1850s. The "magic year" was 1854. The Kansas-Nebraska Act was passed by the congress and signed into law by President Pierce in May. This law established two new territories for settlement, and the question of whether these territories would eventually become free or slave states was to be determined by vote of the territorial residents. Also, the Missouri Compromise of 1820, which limited the admission of new slave states to territory south of Missouri's southern border, was repealed.

It was the repeal of the Missouri Compromise that raised a firestorm of protest in the North and in Massachusetts in particular. These Northern citizens were outraged that slavery was now to be extended to territory where it had been previously prohibited. Action was needed and action was taken. The New England Emigrant Aid Company was chartered to aid those who wished to settle in Kansas to keep it free. The Unitarian minister, Edward Everett Hale, was one of the founders of the Aid Company. This company was quick on the uptake and was already conducting emigrants to Kansas in 1854. Joseph Savage, whose story we heard in the readings, was a member of the second party sent out by the Company. Dr. Charles Robinson, a physician and also a Unitarian, acted as an agent for the Emigrant Aid Company and led this party to Lawrence, Kansas. As we shall see Robinson was to become a guiding force in the Free-State movement in Kansas. Both the Aid Company and the parties they sent out from Boston were highly motivated crusaders who were determined to save Kansas from becoming a slave state.

A majority of these Emigrant Aid parties were composed of emigrants from Massachusetts. And, of course, they brought their religious and other cultural expectations to their new home. One commentator in contrasting these "Yankees" with Westerners said, "The people from New England ... felt the need of the regular ministrations of organized religion; the Western pioneers ... 'got religion' as they got measles." The religions that these Yankees brought to Kansas were a varied and interesting lot. The Rev. Samuel Young Lum, a Congregationalist minister, wrote from Lawrence that: "... we have had various preachers here who have striven at all times to force themselves upon the people & setting forth the wildest heresies as the truth of God. Unitarians, Christians, Swedenborgians, Universalists have not been idle; their men are already on the ground & openly declare that they will make it "too hot for the orthodoxy." When Lum says "Christians" he means a particular sect. Although I'm talking almost exclusively about Unitarians this morning keep in mind that as Lum mentioned the Universalists were there and involved too.

In 1854 the financial situation changed for the AUA. Beacon Press was founded and many thousands of dollars for missionary efforts were raised by the sale of books. With Kansas at the forefront of the news, a mission to Kansas was being organized. The intent of the AUA was not only to serve the Unitarians in Kansas but also to become a part of the expansion of the nation into western lands. While the all this missionary activity was being organized, the events of a great national drama were beginning to unfold in Kansas.

The problems in Kansas started with elections. In March 1855 an election was held to select the members of the Kansas Territorial Legislature. Missourians swarmed across the border to vote for the Pro-Slavery candidates. It was no surprise when Pro-Slavery candidates won an overwhelming majority of the legislative seats. Later a U.S. Congressional investigation showed that nearly seventy-eight percent of the votes registered in this election were fraudulent. And things got worse. When the legislature met they immediately ejected all the Free-State members and replaced them with their Pro-Slavery rivals. The legislature then passed a number of laws over the territorial governor's veto that favored the Pro-Slavery faction. The governor denounced the legislature as an illegal body, but President Franklin Pierce promptly removed the governor.

Charles Robinson, who by this time was recognized as the leader of the Free-State movement, grasped the import of these events immediately. The Bogus Legislature had achieved legitimacy in the view of both the territorial courts and the President. Lawrence was the center of Free-State activity and was therefore in peril. He organized the men of Lawrence into military companies. Robinson also contacted officials of the Emigrant Aid Company to request Sharps rifles, the most advanced weapon of the day. Robinson and others also organized the Free-State government and set the mechanics in motion to write a state constitution that would forbid the introduction of slavery. These descendants of American revolutionaries were now embroiled in a revolution of their own, and their situation was no less desperate than that of their forebears in the eighteenth century. The stage was set as the historian, Samuel Johnson, writes for, "War to knife, and knife to the hilt."

The steamboat Emma Harmon landed at Lawrence in late May 1855. On board was the Rev. Ephraim Nute, the Unitarian missionary selected by the AUA for the Kansas mission. Nute was born in Boston, graduated from Harvard Divinity School, and was ordained a Unitarian minister in 1845. Also on board the Emma Harmon was a shipment of one hundred Sharps rifles. Lawrence was a shock to Nute: the town consisted mostly of thatch hovels and tents. Nute wrote that frontier living conditions "may seem very romantic" but "the enchantment of such a view requires a magnificent distance, and gains nothing on acquaintance." For a while Nute lived with twelve other men in a cabin 16 ft. x 16 ft. His diet was rudimentary: He wrote, "Our fare is simple, the variety being chiefly of the genus bread." As was common with settlers, Nute did later stake a land claim about two miles from Lawrence where he lived in a tent.

The Sunday after his arrival Nute preached at sunset from atop Mt. Oread. Sara T. L. Robinson, Charles Robinson's wife, described the scene, "The preacher stood while the audience sat upon rough seats and stones upon the summit of the hill. Earth had never spread out a fairer picture than this lying before us. At one glance the eye rested upon river, forest, mountain and prairie, miles and miles distant as well as near, and the last rays of the setting sun shed a halo of glory over all." The weather in Kansas soon made it evident to Nute that a church building was needed. The next Sunday service on Mt. Oread was interrupted by a cloudburst, and on the following Sunday the heat was so severe that the congregation stayed away.

Interestingly, it was a representative of the Emigrant Aid Company that first suggested to the AUA that a church be built in Lawrence. Rev. Nute was quick to affirm this need. He wrote to the AUA in August 1855 saying: "The time has fully come, & but past come, for erecting a church." There were more than the usual problems. The church was to be constructed of native stone, and the interior was to be finished with black walnut, which was abundant in the area. Construction began in late October with the excavation of the basement. Construction problems were exacerbated because building materials and labor were in particularly short supply in Lawrence.

December brought a sudden halt to construction. Lawrence was being threatened by several Pro-Slavery Missouri militia units, which were led by Sheriff Samuel Jones. Ostensibly these armed men had come seeking the suspects in a murder case. What Jones and company really had in mind was the destruction of Lawrence and the Free-State movement. The would-be invaders gathered south of Lawrence near the Wakarusa River. Thus, began the Wakarusa War. It was a nearly bloodless war, which ended when the Territorial Governor negotiated a settlement between the parties. In the negotiations that led to the settlement Robinson was asked to surrender his Sharps rifles. He replied, "We will compromise, keep the rifles & give them the contents." With the war's end construction on the church resumed.

In May of 1856 Lawrence was again under threat by Pro-Slavery military contingents from Missouri, Alabama, Georgia, Florida, and South Carolina. The U.S. Marshall and Sheriff Jones were in command of the forces. When the U.S. Marshall attempted to dismiss the posse, Jones took over leadership. This time Lawrence was sacked: The newspaper offices and printing presses were wrecked, and the Free-State Hotel and Charles Robinson's house were burned to the ground. Jones is said to have remarked, "This is the happiest day of my life." Sheriff Jones dismissed the sackers near sundown with the promise that he would return the next day and finish the job by destroying the Unitarian Church. Fortunately, this promised second attack never came.

These two incidents focused national attention on Kansas and the struggle between Free-State and Pro-Slavery factions. Northerners were outraged by these events, and Unitarians went all out to support the nascent church in Lawrence. They contributed a pulpit bible, hymnals, a communion service, and sixty books to begin a parish library. Most generous of all were a bell and clock such as were traditionally found in the New England churches of the day. As the bell was being cast in Boston, an enthusiastic donor threw eight hundred silver dollars into the molten metal. Silver in bell metal was thought to give bells a particularly sweet tone.

The bell arrived in Lawrence in August 1856, and was mounted near the church in a frame that permitted it to be rung. Two verses from the psalms chosen by the donor were inscribed on the bell. Although there were reports that Proclaim Liberty throughout the Land was also inscribed on the bell, there is no evidence of this being so. However, "Proclaim Liberty" probably expresses how the community felt when it heard this bell ring. The church building, although not completed, was pressed into service in 1857. The Unitarian church was the first church erected in Lawrence, and among the first in the Territory for use by Euro-Americans. Construction of the tower was especially slow, but it is known that by the time of the official dedication ceremony in 1859 that both the bell and clock had been placed in the tower.

In October 1857 new elections for territorial delegate and territorial legislators were held. The Free-State party having full confidence in the honesty of the newly appointed Territorial Governor participated in this election; they had boycotted previous elections called by the Pro-Slavery government. The Free-State party won a majority of the seats, and Kansas was set firmly on the road to being a Free State. Democracy and freedom had triumphed. Statehood was achieved in January 1861, and Unitarian Charles Robinson was elected the first governor of the state of Kansas. The Lawrence Unitarian church, which Robinson helped to establish, was badly damaged by a storm in 1893 and was razed. The congregation sold the church bell to the town of Lawrence where it still exists today. The congregation declined in number and went out of existence in 1945. The AUA, recognizing the historic importance of this congregation, encouraged the establishment of a renewed Unitarian presence in Lawrence. The Unitarian Fellowship of Lawrence was begun in 1957 and is still active.

There are constants in life. Freedom and democracy were in peril 150 years ago and required sacrifice in their defense. This is still true today and doubtless will be true in every age. A task force of political science professors from some of our nation's most respected universities recently released a report on the state of democracy in America. Here's some of what they said: "... the United States is vigorously promoting democracy abroad. Yet, what is happening to democracy at home? ... Today ... the voices of American citizens are raised and heard unequally.... Citizens with lower or moderate incomes speak with a whisper that is lost on the ears of inattentive government officials, while the advantaged roar with a clarity and consistency that policy-makers readily hear and routinely follow. The scourge of overt discrimination against African-Americans and women has been replaced by a more subtle but potent threat: the growing concentration of the country's wealth and income in the hands of a few.

I have to disagree with this task force about overt discrimination against African-Americans. Our last presidential election revealed a great many problems with our electoral process including racial discrimination that have not been corrected. Indeed, the introduction of high-tech voting machines that do not permit recounts and do not protect the integrity of the votes cast seems to be a step backward for all. But in Florida, old-fashioned, overt discriminatory practices directed specifically against African-Americans have resurfaced. Erroneous felon lists that over represent African-Americans and under represent other minorities have surfaced; they are a clear effort to deny blacks the vote. But that's not all. Florida state police in plain-clothes have been sent to interrogate elderly black people in their homes with regard to an election fraud investigation that officially ended months ago. These police are armed, and some have made a display of their weapons during these "visits." To me, this is an outrageous effort to put a chill on African-Americans who choose to exercise their right of franchise. One must ask: Where is the public outcry against these actions? Where is the demand that action be taken against those responsible? Are we really going to stand by and wait for another debauched and suspect election to occur?

The author William Least Heat-Moon refers to his dreamtime reflections on Kansas as two-bit mysticism. I have my fling with two-bit mysticism when I reflect on the meaning of the historical events I have described today. In my mind's eye I can see the old Unitarian Missionary Church in Lawrence rebuilt stone by stone, the bell and clock reclaimed and installed in the tower. I can hear the silver-toned pealing of the bell making a mighty sound heard over "river, forest, mountain and prairie, miles and miles distant as well as near"—a sound that reverberates and awakens our whole Unitarian Universalist community to its missionary duty to stand up for the democracy and freedom that are our birthright. I can imagine this awakened community becoming a twenty-first century bell of freedom. A bell that will loudly and insistently:

ring out a warning;
ring out danger;
ring out justice;
ring out joy, hope, and love;
ring out peace;
ring out democracy;
ring out freedom—the precious freedom that our forebears sacrificed beyond all reason to give us.

We must not fail them; we must not fail ourselves. Margaret Mead said it so well: "Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed it's the only thing that ever has." A small group of Unitarians and Universalists helped sway events to freedom's side 150 years ago in Kansas, and a small group of Unitarian Universalists can change the world today.

May we leave this sacred place today with the spirit of freedom ringing in our ears, and may we be ever mindful of our religious commitment to the right of conscience and the use of the democratic process.

Bibliography

Copyright © 2004 Merrill E. Milham. All Rights Reserved.
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