In her memoir, Sarah Yeater recounts life in southern Missouri during the Civil War, including surviving abolitionist general James H. Lane's raid on Osceola. During the ordeal, Lane's forces looted the town and then burned it down. The sacking of Osceola inspired the novel Gone to Texas by Forrest Carter, which became the basis for the movie The Outlaw Josey Wales, starring Clint Eastwood, in 1976.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I being a Northern woman was suspected of being unfriendly to the Southern cause and one after another called on me and endeavored to get an expression from me in regard to my views on the subject.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The men all left town that night and did not return until after the troops were gone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

At my home pigs confined in a pen were squealing lustily, having been so near the burning buildings as to suffer from the heat, and I released them by breaking down the fence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

One of the first thoughts of the men when they came back and found the town in ashes was to learn whether the safes in the stores and the bank vaults had withstood the heat of the fire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

...we were about to open an inner door we both noticed at the same moment something that in the semi-darkness in the corner resembled the stocks of guns.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Some sent their servants south to places of safety so that women who knew little of housework were compelled to fill their servants’ places in their kitchens.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As we had a seven months’ old babe who was in constant need of a frequent change of garments we decided the safest place to carry our money would be to take it in a carpet sack with the necessary articles for the baby...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Born in Montpelier, Vermont, in 1832, Sarah J. Yeater learned self-sufficiency from a young age after the death of her mother. Sarah, who had been sent by her father to live with her mother's relatives, took charge of five younger siblings at age 11 while growing up on her grandmother’s farm in Springfield, Vermont. She taught school in Vermont and New York, then moved to Osceola, Missouri, in 1855, where she served as principal of Osage Academy. Here, she met and married John J. Yeater, a local merchant.

In Osceola, she was a Northern woman in the midst of a war that would result in the largest loss of American lives to date. These recollections, put on paper for her granddaughters nearly 50 years after the events had taken place, detail Sarah’s uprooting from her home and subsequent journey during the tumultuous early phases of the American Civil War.

The following has been edited for publication.

Before coming to Missouri I had been warned against expressing an opinion adverse to slavery, and had been sufficiently discreet to avoid making any enemies on that account, though frequent efforts had been made to get me to express my opinion on the subject.

While teaching I boarded with the family of Dr. P. M. Cox, who was the owner of about forty slaves, and my observation while there had to some extent modified my previously formed opinion in regard to their treatment. After the election of Abraham Lincoln to be President of the United States there was a great deal of speculation as to the effect of a Republican President on the institution of slavery, and when the news of the firing on Fort Sumter reached Osceola no one expressed any disapproval of the act, and if at that time any one disapproved of this act of the South Carolinians no expression of dissent was uttered, and very soon the men in that vicinity began to volunteer to join a company of militia to oppose the coming of Federal troops into the State. The women, and girls too, eagerly offered their services to make clothing suitable for the men to wear. I being a Northern woman was suspected of being unfriendly to the Southern cause and one after another called on me and endeavored to get an expression from me in regard to my views on the subject. There was no question as to my husband’s feelings. Finally two young ladies who had been my pupils called and asked me to cut out shirts for the ladies to make for the volunteers, and I consented to do this, and cut a bolt of goods into shirts, but as I had a young and very delicate babe to care for I was not asked to help make the shirts.

	Brig. Gen. Nathaniel Lyon. Photograph by E. Anthony, ca. 1860. Missouri History Museum.

The company was soon equipped and went to Springfield, where they participated in the Battle of Wilson’s Creek, where General Lyon was killed. When these men returned after having witnessed real fighting they were more quiet, and there was not very much excitement till General Lane came to Osceola with a regiment of Kansans in September, 1861.

The citizens got word that these troops were on the way several hours before they arrived, and they took away as much of their property as they could get transportation for. My husband came in about the middle of the afternoon and told me to pack as much as I could of the best and most necessary things we had, and he would try to get teams to take them away. I packed two large trunks with our clothing, bedding and silver, but he could find no one to take them out of town. Everybody was busy with his own affairs and had no time to do for others.

When night came and I was left alone, I with the help of a servant, took the trunks out of the house and concealed them as best I could in the high weeds in the lot, and taking my babe I went across the alley to the house of my father-in-law, C. H. Yeater. The men all left town that night and did not return until after the troops were gone. During the night we could hear people moving about in the streets, but as there was no light we knew nothing of what was being done.

"Death of General Lyon" at the Battle of Wilson's Creek. Steel engraving, 1867. Missouri History Museum.

Naturally there was not much sleep that night, and about four o’clock the curiosity of myself and sister-in-law had reached such a pitch that we started out to ascertain if possible what was going on outside, and went out to investigate. It was not light enough to see far and we almost walked into a picket before we saw him. We did not scream and run as ladies have the reputation of doing, but stopped to interrogate him. He told us who was in command of the regiment, but did not know much about the object of their coming. He said however that the other streets were picketed and we went home to wait for daylight, and kept tolerably close at home for several hours.

After it was light enough to see well, I noticed that my trunks were very poorly concealed, and seeing some men looking around asked them to bring the trunks across the alley and into the house, which they very kindly did. We could see soldiers moving about in the town but they made very little noise.

About two o’clock P. M. we saw smoke rising in the middle of the town and soon realized that the buildings were being set on fire. I immediately took up my babe and started to go home, when my mother-in-law, who was a very timid woman, given to hysterics, began to weep and to beg me not to go, and while I hesitated a moment or two trying to pacify her, the torch was applied to my own house, and when I turned to go it was already blazing, and knowing I could do nothing there I remained where I was. It was well that I did so, for my being there saved the house, as when two men came with torches to light it I claimed the house was mine, and after a little talk they asked for a drink, which my mother-in-law made haste to give them, and left without doing us any damage.

As soon as I felt sure the soldiers had really gone I started out to see what could be done. At my home pigs confined in a pen were squealing lustily, having been so near the burning buildings as to suffer from the heat, and I released them by breaking down the fence. The house was already a smoking ruin, but the smokehouse only a few feet away was standing. My husband’s store and warehouse were entirely consumed. Most of the houses of the town were still smoking and I noticed one not far from where mine had been that was not burning and went to it. Here the only man left in town during the past twenty-four hours joined me. I was much surprised to see him as I had thought every male inhabitant above twelve years old had retreated to some place of safety. We tried the doors and found them all locked. We found the house filled with smoke, but there was no flame. We soon saw that a bed had been set on fire and that it had burned with the floor under it letting all the fire fall to the ground below. With a few buckets of water we quenched this fire and went on to see what could be done elsewhere. There was very little that could be done. We saw no one but ourselves anywhere.

During the night we saw several new fires start up but they were only the outhouses that had not caught at first, and later the fire had worked along the fences to them.

Next morning my mother-in-law wanted to try to hide as much of our most necessary or valuable things as we could, but I replied that I was so exhausted that I could do no more, and that I preferred to keep my property in sight where I could claim it and save it if possible.

I soon took a hard chill and was unable even to care for my babe for the next two days, but we were not disturbed, and the men who had not gone very far away returned, and things were tolerably quiet for the next two weeks.

After the men returned it began to be rumored that certain citizens had taken or had given goods from the stores before they were burned. The merchants called on those who had goods obtained in this way to bring them out, and quite a large quantity of dry goods were brought out, but no groceries. Each merchant knew his own mark and was able to select the goods that belonged to him. In the division we secured sufficient dry goods to clothe us nearly through the war.

One of the first thoughts of the men when they came back and found the town in ashes was to learn whether the safes in the stores and the bank vaults had withstood the heat of the fire. Osceola was essentially a wooden town, with scarcely a brick building in it limits. The money in the safes was found intact, there being very little paper money in circulation there.

There was only one bank in the town, and shortly after their return the stockholders met and divided the money, each one undertaking to care for his share. This business was transacted with as much secrecy as possible, as in the unsettled state of the county it was not safe for any one to have much money on one’s person, and it was a grave question with us as to what we should do with this money. Some of the colored servants had left with the Kansas troops, but many remained. Many buried their money as secretly as possible, but in some cases the servants learned the hiding places and betrayed the secret, while others remained faithful to their owners. As soon as possible our family servants were sent farther south to a place of safety.

				"The War in Missouri: General Jim Lane's Camp, near Humansville, Missouri, 20 October 1861." Halftone of a wood engraving by Alexander Simplot, 1861. Missouri History Museum.

Not long after this first coming of the Kansas regiment the rumor was circulated that they were again on their way here, but as the Osage river was bank full and supposed to be impassible we were not so much alarmed as we otherwise would have been, and in the morning many of the citizens assembled on the river bank to see what this squadron would do, although most of them were prepared for a quick retreat in case of necessity. The regiment scarcely halted on the bank, but plunged in and swam their horses where the water was too deep for fording. Our men did not wait to meet the enemy, and again the town was left with only women and children to defend it. When the regiment had got well into the town and I was standing outside uncertain what to do, a gentleman acquaintance came by, the tailor who had cheerfully given the use of his sewing machine, the only one in town, to be used in making the shirts for the Southern volunteers, and he asked if I would not like to walk down to see what was being done. He did not like to go alone lest his doing so should be misconstrued against him, and I was very willing to go. We went direct to where the officers were collected and after some conversation I learned that many country people were already there with wagons and were loading them with salt ready to take away. I asked those in command with whom I had been talking if this was to be permitted and claimed what had been a warehouse full of salt, as mine. The warehouse had been burned, but it was a light structure and the salt was uninjured except the ends of the sacks were burned off. The officer asked where my husband was and I replied “He was on the river bank when you reached the other side, but when he saw you were coming over, as he had some good horses he thought it best to take them away, and has just ridden over the hill.” I had not paid much attention to the man who came with me while talking, but when I was ready to go and suggested his leaving with me when he as told he would better stay with them for the present.

On looking around I discovered that I was surrounded by soldiers and said, “How am I to get out of this crowd?” One of the lower officers said, “I will see you safely home,” and two quite gentlemanly looking men were sent home with me, and I was told it would be a protection to us to have them stay at the house, and they remained with us till the regiment left Osceola. Two men were also detailed to guard my salt.

Two men soon came to the house who said they had been sent to search the house for arms and ammunition. They said they preferred one of the family should accompany them and I went along with them. After a superficial search of drawers, closets, etc., we went to the basement. I had gone there a day or two before with my husband to conceal some guns that had been in the house for months and I hoped they would not find them. After searching the kitchen and dining room we went into the back cellar, which was very poorly lighted, and as we were about to open an inner door we both noticed at the same moment something that in the semi-darkness in the corner resembled the stocks of guns. I could hear the beating of my heart as the man grasped them thinking no doubt that he had found a prize, but they turned out to be only brooms. I was willing to pursue the investigation farther, but the men, after asking what was in the different bins, and my replying, “apples and potatoes,” were satisfied without going into the dark corners of the cellar. As we returned to the upper rooms one of the men noticed a flask apparently hid behind a curtain, and took possession of it, and finding it contained about a pint of whiskey he went to a window and emptied it on the ground. When he reported his find and what he had done with it the doctor, who was one of the gentlemen staying at the house, told him he had been infringing on his department, and that he should have reported finding the whiskey to him, and he could have confiscated it, as it might have been used as medicine.

The colonel who stayed at our house was a New Hampshire man, and as I was from Vermont we found we were conversant with the same local events, knew some of the same people, politicians particularly, and had both heard John T. Hale deliver the same political speech.

About four o’clock in the afternoon we noticed a bunch of cattle being driven up the street by soldiers on horseback. The cattle had been collected from the prairie near town and were being driven away presumably for beef. As they came nearer we saw that our milk cow was in the number and with some others turned in toward home. My sister-in-law ran to open the gate and her mother appealed to the gentlemen in the house to save her cow, and they ordered the soldiers to let her go into the lot, and we learned afterward that several women in town saved their cows by claiming them.

During the day soldiers brought in a sample of molasses to the doctor to ask if it would be safe to eat it. After looking at the sample and inquiring where it came from, I being present told him the two barrels of molasses they were locating belonged to me, that we were afraid to use it or even to sell it lest it might have been poisoned when the town was burned. He assured me it had not been tampered with by their men, and as far as they were concerned we might use it with perfect safety, and not think they were a band of poisoners. He had the barrel moved into the smokehouse and a guard placed there.

Abolitionist general James Henry Lane, ca. 1861-1866. Lane led the raid that resulted in the burning of Osceola. He served as a U.S. Senator from Kansas from 1861 until his death in 1866. Courtesy of Kansas State Historical Society.

General Lane had in some way heard of me and sent for me to come and see him. When I went to his stopping place he asked how I was that my husband was a rebel, and added that I, a Northern woman, should have kept him from it. He wanted me to have him come in, saying he would be perfectly safe. I replied that I did not know where my husband was, but if I saw him before he left I would deliver his message and bring him to see him. Mr. Yeater did return that night and I went with him next morning to see General Lane, who told Mr. Yeater that if he would promise to give no farther aid to the Confederacy he would be protected in his person and property, and would be paid for all that had been destroyed. Mr. Yeater said he thought it would be better to make no promises now, but judge from his future conduct. The General said “Very well, it is for you to choose.” This was the last time I ever saw General Lane. I remember in my conversation with him he told me he knew Judge Johnson very well, that their seats in the United States Senate were near together, and that Judge Johnson had many times invited him to call on him at his home if he ever came to that part of Missouri, that he had called on him now, and not finding him at home had left his card for him. He had had a United States flag placed on the chimney of Judge Johnson’s house, which was left standing when the house was burned. He threatened dire punishment to any one who should venture to remove it, and it remained there till a detachment of the Confederate army came through and took it down.

Many of the citizens in the community owned slaves and many of their slaves left with the soldiers when they went back to Kansas. Some sent their servants south to places of safety so that women who knew little of housework were compelled to fill their servants’ places in their kitchens. My father-in-law had sent his servants south and our housework had to be done by the family. My mother-in-law was a woman sixty years old, and had the misfortune to sprain her ankle just at this time, and the only daughter of the family was a girl of sixteen, and since my house was burned I had made one of the family. When it became necessary to prepare food for the family it seemed very strange to the others that I, a Northern woman, did not know how to cook. Any one can sweep, dust and wash dishes, but cooking is a trade, or profession, and my profession was teaching. Having been left without a mother at eleven years of age I had spent most of my time at school and had had no opportunity to learn cooking, especially as I had no taste for it. However, I knew enough to prepare food that would sustain life at least, and with the aid of a cookbook could prepare a very creditable meal and I gained considerable experience during the few weeks we were without servants. I also learned that I could wash and iron, too, in case of necessity.

				This historical marker in Osceola commemorates Gen. Lane's raid of 1861. Photograph by Larry Wood, 2004.

After the Confederate squadron left it was no longer safe for Southern sympathizers to remain in Osceola, and on December 9, 1861, we started to go south, carrying what remained of our property in one two-horse wagon. We traveled in company with my father-in-law and family, who had three wagons. The question as to the safest way of carrying our money was a great and puzzling one, as we were liable to be halted by bushwhackers at any time and the contents of our wagons overhauled in the search for valuables. As we had a seven months’ old babe who was in constant need of a frequent change of garments we decided the safest place to carry our money would be to take it in a carpet sack with the necessary articles for the baby, and this made the carpet sack very heavy. As a mother is usually expected to care for her baby’s needs, it devolved on me to carry this carpet-sack when it was necessary to move it. This was quite a task but fortunately I was not called upon to defend it.

On our first night after leaving Osceola we stopped at the house of a friend about fifteen miles from the town. We followed the stage road to Springfield, and the next two nights stopped at the usual state stands, the women sleeping in the house, but the men preferring to sleep near their horses. After passing Springfield it was difficult to find places that could accommodate travelers, and the fourth night out the family near where we camped could furnish only one bed. My mother-in-law and her daughter occupied this bed, and we took enough bedding from the wagon to make a comfortable sleeping place, spread it on the ground under a tree near the wagons, and I with my babe slept there. Although it was now the middle of December, the weather was pleasant, and I felt no inconvenience from my novel sleeping place, except that the noise of the tramping of the horses kept me awake part of the time.

In the following months, Sarah would cope with the death of her father-in-law, the difficult birth of her second son, and increasing time spent away from her husband as she traveled through Arkansas and Texas while the Civil War raged. Relentlessly seeking safety and filling her self-designated role as a protector of others, Sarah’s journeys associated with the war and its aftermath would span nearly five years until she and her husband were finally able to make their permanent home in Sedalia, Missouri.