In the winter of 1862 the Rev. A. Monroe was traveling the Fayette Circuit, Missouri Conference M. E. Church, South, and living in the town of Fayette, Howard county. Fayette, like all other towns of importance in the State, was a military post, with one Major Hubbard in command.
One day of that winter Mr. Monroe and his family were surprised by the appearance of a Federal officer and a squad of men entering his humble home, placing him and his wife under arrest, and marching them off to headquarters, for what offense they never knew.
The soldiers had arrested many other ladies and gentlemen at the same time, and they had plenty of company when they reached headquarters, amongst whom was the Rev. Dr. W. H. Anderson, then President of Central College.
When Major Hubbard came in and saw the number of ladies present under arrest he affected surprise, and said that he had not ordered their arrest; that his subalterns had transcended his orders, and at once informed the ladies that they were released, remarking at the same time that when he wished to see them he would not send for them, but do himself the pleasure of calling at their homes. To which Mrs. Monroe promptly replied that she was obliged to him for releasing them so early, but as for seeing him, she had no desire whatever to see him at her house or anywhere else.
Many a true and modest woman had occasion during those troublous times to call upon her ready wit to reply to the various impertinent inquiries and demands of a ruffian soldiery; and while Mrs. Monroe was surprised at her own courage, her indignation was somewhat appeased when she observed the cutting effect of her retort. Not many days afterward she had occasion again for her ready wit and her Christian fortitude and forbearance. Very early in the morning five soldiers called and demanded breakfast. Mr. Monroe was at home, but he soon retreated from the front door and called upon his wife to meet the issue. She had no help, and the idea of cooking for so many, and these, too, whom she believed to be her enemies, and who would not hesitate to do her any injury, was very repulsive. But to get rid of them was a difficult question, as many ladies know. By the time she reached the front door and heard their request her answer was ready. She replied, “My Bible teaches me, ‘If thine enemy hunger, feed him; if he thirst, give him drink;’ upon these terms and no other you can get breakfast.” To her surprise one of them said, “Madam, we will accept breakfast upon those terms, for I profess to be somewhat acquainted with the Bible.” She thought they would turn and go away in a rage, but, on the contrary, she had to turn and get breakfast for “her enemies” with the best grace she could.
It turned out that the spokesman was a local preacher in the Northern Methodist Church, and at the table he remarked to Mrs. Monroe that his father was as great a rebel as she was. To which she replied, that it was a thousand pities that he had so far departed from the ways of his father as to be a degenerate son of an honored sire. Whereupon he said, “As a loyal man, I would hate awfully to have to live with such a rebel. Gen. Price could well afford to issue a commission to you, madam.”
Not many days after this Mr. Monroe was just ready to mount his horse one morning for a tour of appointments in the country, when a soldier appeared with orders to arrest him and take him to the headquarters of Capt. Hale, then commanding the post. The venerable man of God was then marched up to headquarters at the point of the bayonet and required to take the military oath, (so-called), and give bond, with good security, for his future loyalty to the Government, and for the loyalty and good order of his family, the Captain remarking that “the secesh talk of the women of his family should be stopped.” Mr. Monroe replied that he could take the oath if he would then let him go about his Master’s work, but as for the bond, he must excuse him, as he did not wish to involve his friends and he had but little property. If it was his little property he was after, he might as well go and take charge of that at once and let him go about his business. The Captain saw the point and told him to take the oath then and “go preach the gospel to every creature.”
“In 1864 Mr. Monroe was living on a farm about eight miles from Glasgow, in Howard county, when General Price made his famous raid into Central Missouri, and took Glasgow amongst other places. The day before the battle of Glasgow Mr. Monroe was out in a field on his little farm, and his family all away from home except a servant, when a company of Kansas soldiers passing along the road halted, entered the house and robbed it of everything of value they could find. The house was literally pillaged. Mr. Monroe’s watch, a fine cloth coat, several pairs of bed-blankets, quilts, comforts, and, indeed, everything of any value to them. While thus engaged they saw a young man who lived near approaching the house, all unconscious of what was going on. He was arrested and relieved of all his money, $75. One rough-looking Dutch soldier rode out to the field and accosted the venerable man with an imperative demand for his money. When he found that he had but two dollars in the world, he would not take it, but rode back in disgust. A young man—Mr. Monroe’s nephew—was met near the house on his uncle’s only riding horse, with his only saddle and bridle. The young man was arrested, and the horse and equipments taken to Glasgow and never heard from afterward.
Thus, in one single hour, the venerable servant of God stood alone in his field, stripped of everything he had—horse, watch, clothes, blankets, bedding—everything of value. What must have been the feelings of Mrs. Monroe on returning home, after an absence of just one hour, to find her house plundered by a ruffian soldiery, and her husband beggared. To complete the work, a small squad of soldiers passed along soon afterward, and when they could find nothing else to steal or appropriate, a rough, drunken Dutchman demanded of the old man his woolen mittens, which a lady had but recently given him. He gave them up, and considered himself fortunate to get off so easy.
With such petty annoyances, involving privation and suffering, this faithful minister of the gospel—this pioneer and patriarch of Missouri Methodism—passed through the dark and trying scenes of the late civil war, always hopeful and joyful, and ready to rejoice that he was counted worthy to suffer for a cause of which himself was the finest type, and a principle to maintain which he was willing to go even to prison and to death. To the struggling cause of Christ and his suffering friends he was a tower of strength, to the discomfited and disheartened hosts of the Methodist Israel, he was “our Moses.” When “these calamities were overpassed,” and the shock of war had expended its fire and force—when the smoke of battle cleared away, and the stormcloud hung low upon the horizon, he surveyed the field, marked the desolation, measured the extent of the wreck, discovered some remains of Zion’s former beauty, while others, with indecent haste, sounded her funeral knell; and his voice, like that of a mighty chieftain, was heard over the prairies, along the railroads and in the cities of Missouri, calling the faithful to duty, and rallying the scattered forces for counsel. Upon his call a few ministers and friends convened in Palmyra, in June, 1865, and decreed the life of the Church, the resuscitation of her vital powers, the recovery of her lost ground, and the rehabilitation of her distinctive institutions and organs. (See the particulars of this Palmyra meeting in its appropriate place.)