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"OUR forces amounted to eight hundred strong. * * * When we first reached Lawrence not a human being could be seen. In about an hour there gathered, in the streets, in front of the hotel, some hundred and fifty men. * * * When they agreed to surrender, our men were marched down in front of the town, and one cannon planted on their own battlements. Cannon were brought in front of the house, and directed their destructive blows upon the walls; the building caught on fire, and soon its walls came with a crash to the ground. Thus fell the abolition fortress!" -- Lecompton (border ruffian) Union, the editor of which was one of the gallant eight hundred.
No foeman's bayonet nigh, No gun to make reply -- "Charge!" was the gallant cry, And into the fated town
No cannon to left of them, No cannon in front of them,
Boldly they rode and well, Cowed by no fear of death, Cowed by no fear of hell,
Flashed all their guns in air, The gallant Southrons there Charging like fury, while
Their southern courage woke, Then rapid was their stroke, And through the lines they broke,
No cannon to left of them, No cannon behind them
They, that had robbed so well Ran, their exploits to tell, Back to their dens again, Back to their border-hell, The whole black horde of them,
Long shall the tale be told, Yea, when our babes are old,
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