MY PERSONAL EXPERIENCES DURING
THE CIVIL WAR OF 1861
Dedicated to my children.
I was born on the 26th day of September, 1850, in Cass County, Missouri, near
the Kansas line. For the first ten years of my life I lived an uneventful life, just
a happy care free girl, by our happy life was not to last. In 1861 the storm cloud
of the Civil war broke and our troubles began. Our cattle and horses were
driven into Kansas and our homes were robbed of provisions, clothing and bed
clothes, leaving us to get along as best we could. The men who did these
things were not regular soldiers, by they would come over into Missouri and rob
and burn houses and many times they would shoot down innocent men simply
because they were Southern sympathizers, and after doing these things they
would go back into Kansas to the Federal Post for protection. This continued
during the summer and winter of 1861. During the winter of 1861 there was a
company of Federal troops stationed at Aubry, Johnson County, Kansas, and
another at Morristown in Cass County, Missouri. My father's farm was
midway between these two places and almost every day the officers and their
lady friends would go from one place to the other and they made our home a
stopping place to order a good dinner. They would order my mother to get
dinner in double quick time and give them the best we had and consequently we
often went hungry.
Early in February 1862, this same gang of Kansas robbers, who had done so
much meanness in 61, came to our home, five in number, with a two horse
wagon which thy proceeded to load with meat and lard and other food,
harness, etc. form the out buildings and then came into the house to finish
loading their wagon. They took all of our bed clothing and best clothes.
Among other things they took was a new bed comfort my mother had just made
and my baby sister, two years old and who could not talk plain, grabbed hold of
it and said, "That's my mamma's tumpit" (her way of saying comfort" but her
tiny hands were not equal to those of that ruffian. Imagine that big burly man
snatching that comfort from a baby. While three of them loaded their wagon
the captain and one other man guarded my father, as if he, an unarmed man,
would try to interfere with five heavily armed men. My father had been sick for
a week and was sitting by the fire when they cam. After they had completed
their devilish work, the Captain ordered my father to pull off his coat and give
it to him. He raised up and took off his coat and said if you need it worse than
I do take it. He was then ordered to put it on again. That made my father mad
and he said I will put it on when I get ready and not before. At that the
Captain pointed a cocked rifle at my father's breast and the other put a revolver
to the side of his head. My mother jumped between the rifle and his breast and
knocked the revolver down and herself received the ball that would have ended
my father's life. My father caught her in his arms and pulled her down on his
lap and held her until they left. They cursed her and said it might have gone
through her heart but she told them she would gladly take it through her heart
to shield my father. Of course we children were crying and they ordered my
father to make us stop crying and threatened to burst our brains out if we didn't
stop. My father told them they had shot our mother and they knew it was
impossible for him to make them stop crying. They finally left the house but
stayed around the barn for two or three hours, shooting off their guns and
watching for my father to come out. They would have shot him down if he had
gone outside by my mother would not let him leave her until they were gone.
When it was dark he sent for some of the neighbor women to take care of
mother and he got on a horse and went to Pleasant Hill, the nearest place in
Missouri, where there was any doctor and that was twenty miles from our
home. When he got to Pleasant Hill there was not a doctor that would go with
him. They said there was not enough money to hire them to go that close to
Kansas so he had to get wagons and teams to come and move us to Pleasant
Hill before she could get any medical attention. It was two days and nights
before she got to a doctor but by the grace of God her life was spared and she
lived to the good old age of 85.
We stayed with an uncle of my mother until the 1st of March and then rented a
farm 3 1/2 miles from Lone Jack and the same distance from Pleasant Hill. On
August 16th 1862 the battle of Lone Jack was fought. We stood in our yard and
listened to the thundering of the cannons until they ceased. Then my father
went to Lone Jack and was there a week helping to bury the dead men and
horses and care for the wounded. It was terrible. What men there were to
perform these sad rights dug two long trenches and laid the confederates in one
and the federals in the other. They were buried as they fell with no coffins or
shrouds, but were laid, one with his head one way and the next with his head
the other way and so on until the trench was full. In that way they could lay
them closer together.
In March 1863 we moved to a farm near Greenwood and lived there until
General Ewing's famous Order No. 11 by which every one must move from
their homes to a Post where there were Federal Soldiers stationed. We were
given fifteen days to get out. What a scramble there was to find places to go.
A cousin of my mother at Pleasant Hill said all that could get in her house were
welcome and there were six families all crowded in that one house. We stayed
there until November and then went to Lafayette County. We lived that
winter in Berlin, a small town on the Missouri River. In the Spring of 1864
[partial sentence is unreadable ] comparative peace until the surrender in 1865.
The people in that part of the Country knew nothing of the hardships of the
war as did those in the border Counties. We were called refugees down there.
The last nine months of the war my father served in the Confederate army
under General Joe Shelby.
I wonder what our daughters of the present day would think if they had to go to
town shopping in a farm wagon drawn by a yoke of oxen. I have done that very
thing and was glad we had the oxen.
Your mother,
Mrs. Elizabeth Ann Shepard
Original in possession of Elizabeth Tibbs, Independence, Missouri
Transcribed as written
THE CIVIL WAR OF 1861
Dedicated to my children.
I was born on the 26th day of September, 1850, in Cass County, Missouri, near
the Kansas line. For the first ten years of my life I lived an uneventful life, just
a happy care free girl, by our happy life was not to last. In 1861 the storm cloud
of the Civil war broke and our troubles began. Our cattle and horses were
driven into Kansas and our homes were robbed of provisions, clothing and bed
clothes, leaving us to get along as best we could. The men who did these
things were not regular soldiers, by they would come over into Missouri and rob
and burn houses and many times they would shoot down innocent men simply
because they were Southern sympathizers, and after doing these things they
would go back into Kansas to the Federal Post for protection. This continued
during the summer and winter of 1861. During the winter of 1861 there was a
company of Federal troops stationed at Aubry, Johnson County, Kansas, and
another at Morristown in Cass County, Missouri. My father's farm was
midway between these two places and almost every day the officers and their
lady friends would go from one place to the other and they made our home a
stopping place to order a good dinner. They would order my mother to get
dinner in double quick time and give them the best we had and consequently we
often went hungry.
Early in February 1862, this same gang of Kansas robbers, who had done so
much meanness in 61, came to our home, five in number, with a two horse
wagon which thy proceeded to load with meat and lard and other food,
harness, etc. form the out buildings and then came into the house to finish
loading their wagon. They took all of our bed clothing and best clothes.
Among other things they took was a new bed comfort my mother had just made
and my baby sister, two years old and who could not talk plain, grabbed hold of
it and said, "That's my mamma's tumpit" (her way of saying comfort" but her
tiny hands were not equal to those of that ruffian. Imagine that big burly man
snatching that comfort from a baby. While three of them loaded their wagon
the captain and one other man guarded my father, as if he, an unarmed man,
would try to interfere with five heavily armed men. My father had been sick for
a week and was sitting by the fire when they cam. After they had completed
their devilish work, the Captain ordered my father to pull off his coat and give
it to him. He raised up and took off his coat and said if you need it worse than
I do take it. He was then ordered to put it on again. That made my father mad
and he said I will put it on when I get ready and not before. At that the
Captain pointed a cocked rifle at my father's breast and the other put a revolver
to the side of his head. My mother jumped between the rifle and his breast and
knocked the revolver down and herself received the ball that would have ended
my father's life. My father caught her in his arms and pulled her down on his
lap and held her until they left. They cursed her and said it might have gone
through her heart but she told them she would gladly take it through her heart
to shield my father. Of course we children were crying and they ordered my
father to make us stop crying and threatened to burst our brains out if we didn't
stop. My father told them they had shot our mother and they knew it was
impossible for him to make them stop crying. They finally left the house but
stayed around the barn for two or three hours, shooting off their guns and
watching for my father to come out. They would have shot him down if he had
gone outside by my mother would not let him leave her until they were gone.
When it was dark he sent for some of the neighbor women to take care of
mother and he got on a horse and went to Pleasant Hill, the nearest place in
Missouri, where there was any doctor and that was twenty miles from our
home. When he got to Pleasant Hill there was not a doctor that would go with
him. They said there was not enough money to hire them to go that close to
Kansas so he had to get wagons and teams to come and move us to Pleasant
Hill before she could get any medical attention. It was two days and nights
before she got to a doctor but by the grace of God her life was spared and she
lived to the good old age of 85.
We stayed with an uncle of my mother until the 1st of March and then rented a
farm 3 1/2 miles from Lone Jack and the same distance from Pleasant Hill. On
August 16th 1862 the battle of Lone Jack was fought. We stood in our yard and
listened to the thundering of the cannons until they ceased. Then my father
went to Lone Jack and was there a week helping to bury the dead men and
horses and care for the wounded. It was terrible. What men there were to
perform these sad rights dug two long trenches and laid the confederates in one
and the federals in the other. They were buried as they fell with no coffins or
shrouds, but were laid, one with his head one way and the next with his head
the other way and so on until the trench was full. In that way they could lay
them closer together.
In March 1863 we moved to a farm near Greenwood and lived there until
General Ewing's famous Order No. 11 by which every one must move from
their homes to a Post where there were Federal Soldiers stationed. We were
given fifteen days to get out. What a scramble there was to find places to go.
A cousin of my mother at Pleasant Hill said all that could get in her house were
welcome and there were six families all crowded in that one house. We stayed
there until November and then went to Lafayette County. We lived that
winter in Berlin, a small town on the Missouri River. In the Spring of 1864
[partial sentence is unreadable ] comparative peace until the surrender in 1865.
The people in that part of the Country knew nothing of the hardships of the
war as did those in the border Counties. We were called refugees down there.
The last nine months of the war my father served in the Confederate army
under General Joe Shelby.
I wonder what our daughters of the present day would think if they had to go to
town shopping in a farm wagon drawn by a yoke of oxen. I have done that very
thing and was glad we had the oxen.
Your mother,
Mrs. Elizabeth Ann Shepard
Original in possession of Elizabeth Tibbs, Independence, Missouri
Transcribed as written
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