Topeka incident built free-state support

? Many modern-day Kansans celebrate with bursts of color in the night sky, but a few of their forebears faced political and military fireworks on a long-ago Independence Day.

Hundreds of free-state partisans gathered in what was then the new and small town of Topeka to open their own territorial assembly on July 4, 1856, defying both the federal government and a pro-slavery legislature. Troops arrived and broke up the meeting, even threatening it with a cannon.

Though the incident is little-remembered now – especially outside Kansas – it was a significant event leading the United States toward its bloody Civil War. Now, area history buffs hope a new storefront mural in downtown Topeka at the site of the free-state gathering will remind passers-by of Kansas’ colorful heritage.

“It solidified the supporters around the free-state cause, really unified them in a significant way,” said Virgil Dean, historian and editor for the Kansas State Historical Society.

The lessons from the summer of 1856 aren’t just about history, of course. The Army whose troops broke up the free-state meeting had the job of keeping the peace amid the guerrilla war of “Bleeding Kansas.”

Mural designer Cally Krallman paints clouds on the side of Constitution Hall in Topeka last month. Her scene depicts Constitution Hall and Col. Edwin Sumner, the leader of the troops sent to break up the anti-slavery assembly meeting in Topeka. A broad prairie vista in the background is a reminder that in July 1856, there wasn't much to Topeka, which had been founded late in 1854, only six months after Kansas became a territory.

“I think there are certain parallels in what the Army calls stability operations today,” said retired Air Force Lt. Col. Randy Mullis, who teaches at Fort Leavenworth and wrote a 2004 book about the period, “Peacekeeping on the Plains.”

“I think you can see how that resonates in Afghanistan and resonates in Iraq today,” he added.

The free-state gathering was described as either an “extralegal” or “illegal” legislature, because the territory already had a legislature. However, the federally sanctioned assembly often was derided as the “bogus” legislature because of evidence that its members won seats through voter fraud.

Anti-slavery partisans held their own elections and gathered for their meeting at Constitution Hall at a site now across the street from Topeka’s main post office. Only parts of the building remain, hidden behind what were two vacant storefronts boarded up by the city to keep out pests, protect the site from the weather and prevent vandalism.

That bare front provided the canvas for local landscape artist Cally Krallman and about 30 volunteers, including Washburn University art students. They finished last week, after about three weeks of work.

Krallman’s scene not only depicts Constitution Hall and Col. Edwin Sumner, the leader of the troops sent to break up the meeting, but a broad prairie vista. It’s a reminder that in July 1856, there wasn’t much to Topeka, which had been founded late in 1854, only six months after Kansas became a territory.

“This is to replicate what the prairie would have looked like when the building was here and there was nothing beside it,” Krallman said.

Don Lambert, a preservationist and arts enthusiast who conceived the mural project, said he expects the painting to remain for at least several years. He doesn’t know what will happen after that to the Constitution Hall site.

The site had been commercial property for more than a century when it became vacant in the 1980s. The city approved its demolition in 1997, but protests saved it. Sonny Scroggins, a Topeka activist who organized early efforts, said the site is important because of its place in anti-slavery history.

“It is sacred ground,” he said.

But in 1856, the site didn’t seem sacred so much as symbolic of the national debate raging over slavery.

The colonel who ordered the free-staters to disperse told them his duty was painful. There was some irony in his role, too, because he was a cousin of Massachusetts Sen. Charles Sumner, a fiery abolitionist who had been attacked only two months before on the Senate floor over remarks he made about Kansas.

Leaders of the free-state movement already had decided to disperse peacefully. While partisans on both sides attacked each other willingly, they quailed at the thought of conflict with the Army, said Peter Wallner, a Concord, N.H., historian completing the second volume of a biography of Franklin Pierce, president at the time of the incident.

“I think they realized that to shoot at federal government troops would be an absolute public relations disaster for their cause,” Wallner said. “Moderate people, whether they be in the North or the South, would be upset with this.”

Pro-slavery forces could crow, initially. The Kansas Weekly Herald, dedicated to “Southern principles,” called the free-state gathering a failure and a “miserable humbug.”

But events in Kansas were being watched closely elsewhere. One Chicago newspaper called the incident a “crowning act of outrage on free institutions.” Its account was reprinted in The New York Times.

For some, the dispersal of the free-state assembly represented another assault on personal liberty meant to protect slavery.

“In fact, it became a public relations nightmare for the Pierce administration,” Wallner said. “In effect, the free-staters won a big victory.”

New elections resulted in a free-state legislature and, in 1859, a free-state constitution upon which Kansas was admitted to the Union on Jan. 29, 1861.

Dean said of the 1856 incident, “It kind of strengthened their resolve to continue the fight, because they really felt like they were being abused and their rights were continually being violated.”