WERE LUCIUS AND JOHNSON IN THE LAND LEAGUE?

“The Land League? What the heck is that?” I believe those were my exact words when I first noticed the term a few years ago.

In the third chapter of my novel The Crows’ Omen, there is mention of an old man who sold Johnston Pendleton some land near Cherokee, which was to be known as the Pendleton Mine. This would have been in 1885, at the beginning of the storyline. Though the character has no name, his presence in the story bears much significance. Indeed, the old man represents an important part of southeastern Kansas history, in that he was a former member of the Land League. But before we explore that in more detail, let’s begin with a short history lesson.

Originally, the area that later would form the state of Kansas was first part of the Louisiana Purchase in 1803; then it became part of the Missouri Territory in 1812. During this time, what are now Cherokee and Crawford Counties—as well as a strip of land on the southern end of present-day Bourbon County—were set aside by the US government to form a buffer between the Osage Indians to the west and the white settlers to the east, who were then pouring into the area that become the state of Missouri in 1821. This virtual no-man’s-land in southeastern Kansas, comprising about 800,000 acres, was eventually sold by the US government to the Cherokee Indians after the tribe was escorted along the Trail of Tears to the northeastern part of the Indian Territory (eventually Oklahoma) in 1836. Afterward, it became known as the Cherokee Neutral Lands. Though its original purpose (a barrier to white settlement) remained intact for several years, with such a large open tract of land just sitting there, it was only a matter of time before the prairie would change forever.

As early as the 1840s, white settlers were beginning to move into the area from the north and east in greater numbers every year, for the purpose of staking claims. These claims, of course, were illegal since the land was then owned by the Cherokee Nation pursuant to a federal treaty, but such legalities hardly deterred the toughened men and women who journeyed there and broke open the ground. I’ve found no historical data revealing any large-scale disputes between the settlers and the Cherokee Indians in those early years, but common sense suggests there must have been a few dustups along the way. But while the Indians and the white settlers may not have engaged in any great quarrels prior to the advent of the Civil War, two events that occurred shortly after the close of the war nearly brought the whole area to the point of bloodshed.

The first event was that the Cherokee Indians sold the neutral lands back to the US government in 1866. I’ve read several accounts of the sale, but I’ve not found any account that adequately explains why the Indians chose to do so. Whatever their reasoning, the second event was perhaps even more surprising. In the months that followed, the US government tried selling the land to a buyer, but when the contract fell through (just after an election), it rather dubiously sold off the land in what can only be described as a shameless act of nepotism. Yes, you read that correctly. In 1868, Orville H. Browning, the secretary of the interior—whose department held authority over federal lands—entered into a contract and sold the Cherokee Neutral Lands to his own brother-in-law, James F. Joy, a lawyer from Detroit who, like other ambitious and prosperous men of the age, speculated in railroad investments.

Indeed, Mr. Joy was a principal investor in the Missouri River, Fort Scott, and Gulf Railroad, a.k.a. the Border Tier railroad, named for its intended route that was to hug the Kansas-Missouri border. In the near future, I will be adding a post about this company and its spectacular race against the Katy Railroad to see which one would be the first to cross into Indian Territory, but for now, it is worth mentioning that eventually this company changed its name to the Kansas City, Fort Scott, and Memphis Railroad, a.k.a. the Memphis Route, which is featured prominently in the story. It was also the first railroad to run through the neutral lands (1869–1870). From a point of origin in Kansas City, Missouri, this line ran in a southerly direction to Olathe, Paola, Fort Scott, Girard, Cherokee, Columbus, and finally, Baxter Springs. Interestingly, this line is still in existence today, now part of the Burlington Northern Santa Fe (BNSF) system.

But I’m getting off topic. Let’s circle back to Mr. Joy and his real estate transaction. As I mentioned earlier, there was a different company under contract to buy the territory first. When the land was sold to Mr. Joy, the American Emigrant Company filed a lawsuit challenging the validity of the sale, claiming it had a superior right to purchase the land. While two corporations going head to head in federal court is hardly a topic that typically attracts much interest or discussion in a rural community, this suit personally impacted many families in the Cherokee Neutral Lands, so they paid close attention. They knew that if Mr. Joy was permitted to complete his deal, he’d eventually force them from their homes. (I can only assume the American Emigrant Company would have done the same thing, but I digress).

For the white settlers who’d (illegally) staked claims in the neutral lands years before, Mr. Joy’s contract was a bone of contention. “His claim is illegal,” many of them likely argued. “He has no right to this land,” they surely said. This group of people, numbering perhaps a few thousand, loosely formed what became known as the Land League. They banded together to stop Mr. Joy and his corporation from taking away their land. There is a fascinating account of the Land League and some of its more well-known escapades in the 1905 history of Crawford County that I referenced in the acknowledgment section of my novel (and which I’ve cited below, along with its counterpart, a history of Cherokee County published in 1904). I won’t go into any great discussion about the league or its activities here, except to say this: the years between 1868 and 1872 must have been tense and uncertain for all inhabitants of this area, knowing at any time unrest and bloodshed could erupt.

But, alas, despite the league’s ardent belief that Mr. Joy’s contract was illegal, the federal court system felt otherwise, ruling in Mr. Joy’s favor and confirming the sale of the land to his railroad company. Mr. Joy proceeded to set up land offices (after he’d plotted the course of his new railroad, naturally), and he began selling tracts of land. One by one, the former adherents of the Land League had no choice but to stroll into those offices, hats in hand, and purchase what they felt was already their own, at a rate typically between $3 and $5 an acre.

In the third chapter of the story, the character Henry Teller explains that the old man selected Johnston over the railroad agents when selling his land because he hated the railroads. But in my mind, he did not so much hate the American railroad system (or the modern amenities being ushered into town on its iron rails) as he despised the greedy owners—or at least one in particular: James F. Joy. To my thinking, the old man selected Johnston over Jayson Gould’s agents because he was getting back at Mr. Joy, who years before had forced him to buy back his own land.

While this character has no name, he is, to me, the embodiment of a deeply held belief among the white settlers of the time, who genuinely believed (or perhaps conveniently claimed) that they had a divine right to enter into and control this untouched land, since it wasn’t being used anyway. This was the era of Manifest Destiny, after all; it was theirs for the taking! In some ways, Johnston and Lucius were also adherents to this point of view, or at least they were sympathetic to it. Indeed, Lucius tells Ian that he and Ian’s father came west to be free, and they weren’t about to let anyone or anything tell them how to live. His declaration certainly echoes other, perhaps more famous, expressions of Manifest Destiny, such as “Go west young man, go west.” Doesn’t it?

So, as I wrap up this post, do you think Johnston and Lucius were once in the Land League? After all, they would’ve arrived in the neutral lands in the late 1860s (for more on that, see my post “The Great Race”), just in time for its formation. Personally, I believe the answer is no, for these reasons. First of all, while Lucius never would’ve shied away from acts of civil unrest, especially in his late twenties, he would’ve been too much of a wandering spirit to settle down, work a piece of land, and join the Land Leaguers. In fact, he would’ve been quite the rolling stone in the 1870s, a rip-roaring, unapologetic scoundrel, but for his friendship with Johnston, who, of course, was always his “guidepost.” And Johnston, too, likely would not have been in the league, but for different reasons. It would not have been his personality to engage in civil unrest, and besides, he was more interested in something else. He knew the potential for coal mining in the area (which was just starting to get underway), and he would’ve wanted to establish a rightful claim as soon as possible. After all, who was the largest buyer of coal at that time? You guessed it: the Missouri River, Fort Scott, and Gulf Railroad.

In closing, I will leave you with a final thought. For anyone who owns land in either Cherokee or Crawford Counties, or in the southern end of Bourbon County, go locate your old land abstract, if you still have it (you know, that old document rolled up in the back of your filing cabinet). If you still have one, open it to the section containing the records from the 1860s. Undoubtedly, what you’ll find is that your land was once owned by James F. Joy and/or the Missouri River, Fort Scott, and Gulf Railroad. I’m confident you’ll find it there because they owned not only your land, but everyone else’s too.