The Immortal Ten were a group of abolitionists from Kansas Territory (where slavery was hotly contested) who slipped across the Missouri River into St. Joseph, Missouri (a slave state) and, on 23 July 1859, freed their friend and fellow abolitionist, Dr. John Doy, from jail just prior to his planned transport to the Missouri State Penitentiary to serve five years at hard labor for 'slave stealing.'
The Immortal Ten were:
- Major James B. Abbott
- Captain Joshua A. Pike
- Jacob Senix
- Joseph Gardener
- Thomas Simmons
- S. J. Willis
- Charles Doy
- Captain John E. Stuart (Stewart)
- Silas Soule
- George R. Hay
The rescue of Doy, a conductor on the Underground Railroad, was seen as a great victory by the abolitionists of Lawrence, Kansas – who gave the men their name, "The Immortal Ten" – but to the slaveholders of Missouri and pro-slavery advocates of Kansas, Doy's escape from 'justice' solidified their already staunch belief that abolitionists were un-American, rebellious troublemakers.
Doy's escape increased the already high tensions in Kansas Territory between free-state abolitionists and pro-slavery advocates, leading to the term for the region, "Bleeding Kansas", owing to the constant bloodshed between 1854 and 1859. "Bleeding Kansas" is seen as a prelude to the American Civil War (1861-1865) as both pro- and anti-slavery factions understood their differences could not be resolved peacefully.
Bleeding Kansas
In May 1854, the Kansas-Nebraska Act created two new United States territories on lands taken from the Native peoples of North America. The Act was controversial because, in 1854, the number of slave states and free states was balanced, but if Kansas and Nebraska were admitted as free states, the free would have greater power in Congress than the slave states.
According to the Missouri Compromise of 1820, slavery was forbidden north of 36'30 latitude and west of the Mississippi River, except for the state of Missouri. As both Kansas and Nebraska were north of the 36'30 latitude and west of the Mississippi, they would be admitted to the Union as free states. Included in the Act, however, was the clause of Popular Sovereignty, which would allow the states to choose for themselves whether free or slave. Nebraska rejected slavery, and Kansas, so close to Missouri, was expected to choose slavery.
Free-state abolitionists, however, had already settled in Kansas and demanded its admission as a free state. Pro-slavery advocates had also settled there and argued in favor of admission as a slave state. At one point, Kansas had two different capitals – Lecompton (pro-slavery) and Lawrence (anti-slavery) – two different legislatures, and two different constitutions.
Pro-slavery advocates would attack abolitionists, who would then retaliate. John Brown (1800-1859) is among the most famous militant abolitionists from the Bleeding Kansas period and led his sons in the Pottawatomie Massacre of May 1856, in which pro-slavery advocates were slaughtered. In return, pro-slavers murdered abolitionists who, again, retaliated, and the death toll continued to climb.
Missouri, of course, sided with the pro-slavery Kansans and, especially after the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 was passed by Congress (allowing slave-catchers to pursue and bring back the 'property' of slaveowners anywhere in the United States) conducted raids into Kansas to capture fugitive slaves (or free Blacks they could sell as slaves) and cause as much trouble for abolitionists as possible.
Kidnapping of Dr. Doy & The Immortal Ten
On 25 January 1859, Dr. John Doy and his son Charles (both conductors on the Underground Railroad) were transporting 13 freedom seekers (fugitive slaves) from Lawrence, Kansas, to the north on the first leg of their journey to freedom in Canada. Twelve miles outside of Lawrence, they were stopped by an armed group from Missouri, detained, and taken back to the slave state.
Doy protested that the Blacks in his wagon – men, women, and children – were human beings, not property, but this suggestion was laughed off, and all were taken to be sold. John and Charles Doy were imprisoned in a small cell for almost two months – from 25 January to 20 March 1859 – until they were moved to another jail in St. Joseph, Missouri, to stand trial. Charles was acquitted, but Dr. Doy was convicted of 'slave stealing' – even though there was no evidence any of the Blacks in his wagon were from Missouri – and sentenced to five years of hard labor at the Missouri State Penitentiary. He was scheduled for transport from St. Joseph on 25 July.
James B. Abbott of Kansas, an abolitionist and friend of Doy, understood that, once Doy was at the penitentiary, there would be slim hope of him ever leaving it alive, and so he gathered nine men he knew he could trust and went to rescue Dr. Doy. They arrived and reconnoitered St. Joseph, planning on breaking into the jail at midnight on the 23rd of July, but learned that the theater would be letting out around 11:00 p.m., and, if they could get into the jail quietly and get Doy out without raising the alarm, they could blend in with the theater crowd in the street, make it to the Missouri River, and get back across to Kansas without anyone ever knowing they were there.
Abbott's plan worked perfectly. Some of the Immortal Ten watched the street while others gained entrance to the jail by pretending one of them was a horse thief who needed to be held overnight. Doy describes his rescue in the last chapter of his account of his kidnapping, imprisonment, and trial, The Narrative of John Doy, of Lawrence, Kansas: "A plain, unvarnished tale" (1860), which is given below.
A bounty of $100 was placed on Doy's head, and he left Kansas, settling with his family in Rochester, New York, among a community of abolitionists, where he wrote his book. Charles Doy remained in Kansas and was shot dead, along with a companion, in July 1860 as a horse thief – though his death may have had more to do with his participation in his father's rescue.
Of the other nine, all served with distinction in the Union Army during the American Civil War. Silas Soule (1838-1865) became famous for refusing to participate in the Sand Creek Massacre (29 November 1864) in Colorado against the Arapaho and Cheyenne nations. He testified against his commanding officer, defended the Native Americans, and was murdered in Denver on 23 April 1865. What became of Dr. John Doy after the publication of his book is unknown.
Text
The following is taken from Chapter XIX (19) of The Narrative of John Doy, of Lawrence, Kansas (1860), republished by the University of Michigan Library, 2015. The account of the rescue by Major James B. Abbott is given in the bibliography and External Links below the article.
About twelve o'clock, in the midst of the storm, as we were still watching at the grated window, we heard a loud knocking at the jail door, which we could not see, and after a while the jailer's voice from his window, asking, "Who's there? What do you want?"
"We're from Andrew County, and we've got a prisoner we want to put into jail for safe keeping. Come down quick," was the answer.
"Who is he?"
"A notorious horse-thief."
"Have you got a warrant?"
"No; but it's all right."
"I can't take a man in without authority."
"If you don't, it'll be too bad; for he's a desperate character, and we've had hard work to catch him. We'll satisfy you in the morning that all's right."
The jailer then went down and let them in, and-as I was afterwards told-when they were inside, said again: "I don't like to take a man in without a warrant," and turning to the supposed horse-thief: "What do you say? Do you think they'll be able to convict you?"
"No, they won't," replied the thief, "to be sure they found the horse in my possession, but they can't prove I stole him."
"Well," said the jailer, "if they found the horse in your possession, I guess they're right enough, and I'll lock you up."
Soon we heard steps on the stairs, and hurried into bed, dressed as we were, covering ourselves with the bedclothes. The outside door of our cell was opened, and looking out of the corners of my eyes, without moving my-head, I could see the jailer, and the horse-thief with his hands tied and held tightly by two men, while another was just visible a little behind.
There was quite a parley at the door, and the horse-thief seemed to draw back. Then the jailer unlocked and opened the iron grating, and ordered him in. The thief still drew back, and said, "I won' t be put in with niggers."
"Oh! We don't keep our niggers here," replied the jailer, "they're down below."
"Have you got old Doy, the abolitionist, in here?" asked one of the men, still keeping hold of the horse-thief, and pressing forward into the doorway, as if curious to see me.
"Doctor Doy is here," answered the jailer.
"That's the man we have come for," exclaimed one.
The other said, "Friend, we have deceived thee until now, but it was necessary for our purpose. We have not come to put a man into prison, but to take out of it one who is unjustly confined."
At the same time, the horse-thief freed his wrists from his bonds, which were suddenly metamorphosed into a slung-shot, the ball of which he had concealed in his hand and sprung forward. The jailer, completely taken by surprise, tried to close the door but a ten-inch revolver was pointed at his breast.
"It's too late, Mr. Brown. If you resist or try to give an alarm, you're a dead man. The lower door is guarded, and the jail surrounded by an armed force. We've come to take Dr. Doy home to Kansas, and we mean to do it; so, you'd best be quiet."
Then the horse-thief came to my bed, shook me by the hand, and helped me up. As I got out of bed, the jailer said:
"Gentlemen, I am in your power and must submit. I will leave it to the Doctor;" and, addressing me: "Doctor, don't you think you had better stay and be legally acquitted by the Supreme Court, instead of getting off in this way, and running the risk of being recaptured."
"Mr. Brown," I replied, "I was kidnapped from my home, and think myself perfectly justified in taking my liberty in any way I can. As to the Supreme Court, I won't trust any Missouri court. My papers will never get there. Therefore, I shall go with my friends and take the risk."
By this time, I was ready. I shook hands with the jailer, and said to my friends: "Boys, Mr. Brown and his family have treated me like a gentleman. He has been very kind to me, especially as compared with the Platte-city jailer."
The jailer was then impressively told that a heavy guard was stationed all-round the jail, who would shoot him or anyone who attempted to give the alarm, or to leave the building before daylight.
The other prisoners tried to go out with us, but the jailer appealed to the magnanimity of the Kansas men, who at once warned them back with their pistols, saying: "If you have violated the laws of Missouri, you must suffer the penalty. We did not come to interfere with justice, but to set right that which we knew to be wrong;" and the jailer locked the door upon them.
When we got to the lower floor, we found there a Mr. Slayback, who, having come in lately by the railroad; and being unable to find his brother, a lawyer in the city, had asked the jailer for a night's lodging, and Mr. Brown said: "Gentlemen, this thing will injure my character. Will you explain to Mr. Slayback how it was done?'
"Certainly," replied one of my rescuers. "Mr. Slayback, you will please to understand, and to inform the citizens of St. Joseph, that we came in force from Kansas to rescue Dr. Doy. We surprised and overpowered the jailer, and he should not suffer in consequence, for it would have taken a much bigger man than he to resist us."
At the jail door, we were received by the others, who had been watching every window and door of the prison. When we reached the street, I fell, unable to stand, from weakness and disease, occasioned by my long confinement. Two of the men took me under the arms and bore me on.
It was so dark that I could see nothing and was obliged to ask the names of my rescuers. Unable to direct our steps aright, we kept falling into the gullies in the streets, and sometimes a flash of lightning would show us that we were running up against the houses. At last, keeping together as well as we could, we reached the riverbank, and saw that several of the saloons were still open, it being Saturday night.
But, in the thick darkness, we missed the place where the boats had been left, and knew not exactly where to look for them, when two of the night police, probably hearing our voices and perceiving a number of persons together, came towards us with large lanterns, which they held up in the air, that they might better see what we were about.
By their light, we saw our boats a little higher up the stream; hastened to them, jumped in, and untied them. They were partly full of water, and some of the boys bailed it out with their hats, while others rowed. By dint of hard pulling, for the current of the Missouri is very strong there, we soon landed on the Kansas bank, which I had often gazed at longingly from the window of my cell.
I was helped into a covered wagon, and laid on some hay in the bottom, when two pistol-shots were fired, as agreed upon, to give notice to our Kansas friends in St. Joseph, that I was safe and prepared to travel. We started-some of my rescuers, who were ten in number, being on foot and some on horseback-and traveled twelve miles before we stopped to breakfast.
Not only did the ladies of the house where we alighted vie in attentions to the Missouri convict, and entertain us all most hospitably, but our host himself drove me twelve miles further with his own team and refused to accept any recompense but our hearty thanks.
I was astonished to see so many persons come out to greet us, evidently knowing what had been intended, and only sorry that they had not been allowed to take part in the enterprise. We were followed by a number of men a good part of the day, but felt no apprehension, as the ten were abundantly able to take care of any number that was likely to be sent after us, while friends along the road would be on hand to give notice and help to resist any serious attempt at recapture.
About 3 o'clock in the afternoon, four of our men fell back to take account of our pursuers, when the latter disappeared, and we saw them no more. We kept on till 12 o'clock that night, and started again early the next morning, which was Monday. At 5 o'clock in the afternoon of which day, after traveling ninety miles, and being enthusiastically greeted and hospitably entertained all along the road, we reached the river opposite Lawrence, and crossed to that city of refuge.
As we entered the city, a treble salute was fired, and the noble Ten were loudly cheered and welcomed, as having brought to a successful issue the boldest attempt at rescue ever planned and carried into effect, and as having effaced the stain of at least one of the insults offered to Kansas by her more powerful neighbor.
Thus, thanks to the ingenuity, the courage and perseverance of those ten noble specimens of Kansas freemen was I, though crippled and diseased by ill usage and long imprisonment, once more a free man, restored to my home, to my family and friends, and to the soil I love so well.
Here I may fittingly close my narrative, vouching for the absolute truth of every word I have written, and asking my fellow-citizens of these United States to ponder it well and to answer to their own consciences, as they must to the God of Justice, if such enormities as I have related shall continue to be practiced-if such sufferings as I have depicted shall continue to be inflicted on the helpless and the unoffending-in this our common country, which should be truly, "The land of the free and the home of the brave."
