Boyhood Memories of the Civil War
As experienced by my father, John Henry Roupe, 1851–1943
Written by Ernest N. Roupe, c1935
About the first happening of importance at the farm home that I recall was in December of 1861 when two Bush Whackers rode up and put their horses in the barn, and after feeding them, came up to the house, setting their guns against the garden fence while they ate supper. Later on in the night, near 11 O’Clock, for they had decided to spend the night as self-invited guests, they were ordered out of bed by the Captain of the Militia, as the Militia had surrounded the house. One of the Bush Whackers protested that he couldn’t find his spurs, and the Captain of the Militia informed him he wouldn’t need them. So they were taken captive to Lone Jack.
A day or two later a Company of Kansas soldiers came in and wounded one of the men very badly, but he got over his wound and joined the Union Army. The other one was heard of later… [NOTE: At this point three lines of the script were destroyed.]
When we feel there is no likelihood of giving offense as we assure the reader none is intended. I recall very plainly the battle of Lone Jack, not that I could hear it for the wind was wrong, but we saw the Hotel building burning and soon learned of the battle, but my father [John] and brother Will and I went to the battle field the next day. The first thing I saw was a dead horse, and beside it an empty cartridge box, the shells being scattered all over the ground, and like all boys, we soon filled our pockets.
My older brother Tom, having been ordered to bring a yoke of Oxen and haul dead horses from the battle field, and was engaged thus when we arrived, and as there were 75 to 100 dead and wounded horses, it took them all day to accomplish the task, several yoke of oxen being required.
A small store building near the burned hotel was being used as a Hospital by the Union surgeons and was full of wounded and dead. [NOTE: This would have been Caleb Winfrey’s Mercantile, located on the front half of the Lone Jack Baptist Church’s current lots.] We did not go to the Hospital of the Southern side as it was further away.
We were acquainted with many people who fought in this battle, both sides being represented by neighbors and friends of ours. According to the count of Martin Rice, who counted the soldiers of both sides, there were 400 Union and 600 Confederate soldiers in the battle.
It has been said this battle of Lone Jack, Mo. was one of the most savagely fought of any battle of the Civil War, for the numbers engaged, as about one third of all engaged were killed or wounded. The dead were 60 or more on each side, but I do not recall the number of wounded.
About three or four O’Clock in the afternoon the Southern Pickets reported reinforcements were coming. They were, but it was General Blunt with 1600 Union Soldiers, and the Confederates were forced to retreat. As we were on our way home we saw the advance Guard of General Blunt’s army case a deserter from the Southern Army who had been in hiding behind a stone fence, into the woods, and as we came by an empty house they were searching for him there. That night this deserter made his way to our home and stayed all night with us. He was from Harrisonville, Mo.
On our way back from the battlefield we passed a tree having a big bunch of roots protruding over the bank of a creek, among these roots a man’s legs were dangling down. My father recognizing the pair of legs called out, “Is that you Scott?” A voice came out from somewhere among that pile of roots saying, “Yes, it’s me.” Father told him to get out of there and go on home and he wouldn’t get hurt, but to hide around like that would mean instant death if found, so Scott crawled out and went on home.
In the late summer of 1863, Father and I had been to mill at Lone Jack, but were unable to get our corn ground that day. Late that afternoon two men rode up and ordered supper for 40 men (Bush Whackers). The two men returned to Camp, but sent down two other men to help my Mother and sisters cook supper, and you can imagine how much cooking and supplies were needed to feed 40 men besides our own large family, but they were all fed having sufficient.
My father was not at home just at the time the 40 men arrived, but came shortly afterward. Larkin ___ [Scaggs] was trying to fix a spring for his revolver at the blacksmith shop and motioned for father to come up to the shop, but as he passed through the gate of the yard he was stopped by Bill Anderson and questioned some concerning his attitude toward their cause, after which he went to the shop, but as it was dusk and father’s eyes were none too strong, he couldn’t make the spring for Larkin that day, he left the revolver with father saying he would get it on his return.
He (Larkin) was among the last to eat supper, and as the Main Command was camped at a large spring just one half mile North of the house and getting ready to move, Larkin, as he sat talking to my father on the porch remarked, “I must be going as the command is on the move.” This same Larkin was the only one of that famous Guerrilla Band to lose his life in Lawrence, Kansas. Yes, I am speaking of the historical raid on Lawrence, Kansas. They were assembling for that raid on this very night and we fed 40 of the raiders including Bill Anderson, but do not recall the James boys or the Youngers. They probably stayed over at the main camp at the spring.
Quantrill, as I remember, did not eat supper at our place. As is well known, a large proportion of the men comprising this band were from Jackson, Cass and Johnson Counties. I believe it was the second day after the 40 ate supper with us that they returned from Lawrence, Kansas.
The Band was scattered, but a large body of them camped in the timber about a quarter of a mile from our house and sent 4 men down to get meat and what other provisions they could. My father always butchered 40 to 50 head of hogs each year, so we always had plenty of meat, bacon, hams and shoulders, which we kept in a log smoke house. Overhead in the smoke house were lain some wide boards to place articles on. One of these four men (Bushwhackers) by the name of Jeff ____ went to the meat house with father to get the meat and while engaged in this chore Jeff (whom we knew well) said, “Roupe, we got sacks of gold in this long (measuring about 14 or 15 inches on his arm) but Jeff didn’t know that just over his head were 2 or 3 sacks of silver and gold of about the same size reposing on those wide boards overhead.
Not long after the Lawrence raid in 1863 father had a nice riding mare stolen from the pasture by Bushwhackers, but she got away from them and came home, bringing two other horses with her. Father then hid the mare out to keep her from being stolen, but the Bushwhackers took the other two away with them. One of the men, M.S., was very mad because of being unable to find father’s mare that was hidden out and as my father on this particular Sunday was at Rile Gean’s place to secure help from him to move into Pleasant Hill, Mo. in compliance with Order #11, he here met up with Mr. S. and another Bushwhacker and was told by S. to make him 500 horse shoe nails before sundown that day or he would kill him.
So father came home about 8 O’Clock that Sunday morning and went out to the shop. I went along to pump the bellows for him. He didn’t stop to eat dinner, and at 5 O’Clock that afternoon he had the 500 horse shoe nails ready. However, they were not called for until two or three days had passed. Father sold the mare to the soldiers.
Shortly after this event Mr. Potter, a white-haired man of perhaps 80 years old, rode over and said to father, “Roupe, are you going to move into the Post in compliance with Order #11?” Father said he was. Mr. Potter, being old and seeing no need to leave his home said he intended to stay, as did others; however, after we had been in the Post about a week these old neighbors loaded their wagons and were preparing to move into the Post, [NOTE: they were preparing to leave the County, not go to the Post] just as a company of soldiers encamped on father’s farm, and the next morning before the loaded wagons could get started to the Post the soldiers rounded up these same old neighbors and friends and marched them to father’s farm.
Some of their names are as follows: Martin Rice and son Jake, Mr. Potter, Mr. Cave, Bill Hunter, Dave Hunter, Mr. Tate, and Mr. Ousley. The Captain told Martin Rice and son to go home and do it quick, and these men, on reaching their home heard gun firing and thought the soldiers were killing fowls on the Roupe plantation, but they were shooting the above mentioned neighbors. They were buried on father’s plantation. Such was Civil War in the sixties and equally terrible, perhaps worse, is Civil War today
Source: Kansas City Genealogist, Vol 36 #2