by
Martin Noel Thomas
At the outbreak of the war grandma was
eleven years old. Her father, Martin Critchfield, was a farmer living on Bee
Creek at a place just west of the present town of Faucett, Buchanan County,
Missouri. The house is still standing in good condition across the highway from
the Faucett High School. According to grandma, the children in her family
quickly adjusted themselves to the temper of the times. Upon appearance of a
stranger the children would give an alarm and then scatter and hide like
quails. Neighbors kept in close touch with one another and news was passed
through the community rapidly. Every new raid or outrage was reported by
messenger and grandma drank in all of the details. Then would follow a family
discussion of the best plans to follow in order to avoid danger. This was truly
a very exciting time for a child and grandma was in a perpetual fever of
excitement.
Then came a day in August 1863 when
the raider struck at the Martin Critchfield home. Martin was plowing at some
distance from the house. Mary, his -wife, and the children were in the house
when a group of soldiers (grandma called them soldiers) rode up. Mary hurriedly admonished grandma to look after
the other children and stepped out the door, closing it after her. This placed
grandma at a considerable disadvantage as she-could see but little that was
going on and she could hear only fragments of the conversation. It seemed to be a very spirited conversation
in which Mary refused to comply with the demands of the raiders.
As he was plowing, Martin would glance
toward the house at every opportunity. Thus he saw the raiders ride up and saw
Mary arguing with them. He quickly unhitched his team and, mounting one of the
horses, headed for the house at top speed. Grandma heard some of the ensuing
argument which seemed to be about the location of some horses thought to be
hidden in the vicinity. After a time she heard a voice say “You’ll have to tell
that to the captain” and then heard the beat of hoofs as they rode away. The
kitchen door burst open and Mary rushed in, grabbed up a large butcher knife
and ran out in pursuit of the raiding party. Grandma ran to the door and saw
the mounted group, with her father in its midst, riding rapidly to the east
while Mary followed on foot, running as fast as she could.
When the raiders had traveled a little
more than half a mile they came to an orchard where they stopped to question
Martin further. His answers infuriated them. A rope was placed around his neck
and tied to a branch of an apple tree. His horse was then driven out from under
him and he was left hanging and struggling. Within a short time Mary arrived
and found him hanging limp and unconscious. She quickly cut him down, loosened
the rope about his neck and did everything she could think of to revive him. He
soon began to gasp and in a few moments began to regain consciousness.
In the meantime grandma wanted
desperately to follow her mother and see what had happened but she knew that
she had to remain and look after the other children. It seemed to grandma that
hours had passed before her parents returned although it probably was a
comparatively short time. Martin was a bit shaken up by the experience and he
had a very sore neck. Mary was visibly affected by the experience and was
unusually quiet as she went about her household duties. Grandma was still in
great excitement and wanted to hear all of the details but Mary didn’t want to
talk about it.
During the next several days there
were a great many discussions with people who dropped in. Several expressed the
opinion that it might be better to try to find a safer place. As a result of
these conferences it was decided to organize a party and to try to go to
Nebraska where there were friends and relatives. I don’t know who the other
members of the party were but, as I remember, there were probably three
families. They loaded what they considered essential into wagons and started
out. I don’t know what livestock they took with them but grandma was much
elated when she learned that she was to help drive the cattle, quite an honor
for a thirteen year old girl.
They stopped at the home of a friend
or relative in the vicinity of Oregon, Missouri, where it was decided that Mary
and the smaller children would remain for the winter. The remainder of the
party proceeded to their destination in Nebraska. The next spring Mary and the
younger children joined the rest of the family; where they remained until the
war was over. I don’t know what part of Nebraska they were in as grandma didn’t
seem to know. She said that they crossed the Missouri River on a ferry a day or
two after they left the Oregon area so they must have crossed near White Cloud
or Rulo. She said that there were lots of Indians in the area where they stayed
in Nebraska but that these Indians were not hostile although they were a
terrible nuisance. They continually prowled about the area, stealing chickens
and hogs and they were inveterate beggars. They were not armed and the
Nebraskans didn’t seem to pay much attention to them. Mary and the children
never did become accustomed to them and were in a constant state of
apprehension.
I never heard an account of the return
of the Martin Critchfield family to Missouri but they did return the year the
war was over.