This is not the line I was researching but didn't want to waste what I had gathered so for those whose ancestors were there here's a bit of a journal:

A graphic picture of home life during the war is given by Dr. Thomas Kimlin in the old Grundy County history. The article follows:
"In the month of June, 1862, the writer of this sketch, then a young man of twenty-four, walked from Chillicothe, in Livingston County, to Trenton in Grundy. He had come from New York, and on arriving at Chillicothe, found his means exhausted, consequently was obliged to resort to natural locomotion to reach his destination. The Harry House was the only hotel in Chillicothe, and as the tired traveller rested there for one night, thinking of his walk on the morrow, he was anything but delighted to hear that the bushwhackers had been seen on the Trenton and Chillicothe road the day before, and were raiding around Spring Hill.
The next morning dawned bright and beautiful, and as our traveller struck north he thought he never saw a more lovely country. The prairie was of a gentle, undulated character, covered with fine growths of grass and interspersed with belts of timber—hickory, oak, ash, elm, cottonvvood and black walnut. Numerous streams crossed the country along the banks of which the wild plum and crab apple grew in the greatest luxuriance. The soil was of a fine, deep, dark loam. The woods and streams abounded in game. The chattering squirrel ran across the road or, perched on a stump, scolded like a fish woman; the shy rabbit hopped along under the shade of the bushes; coveys of quails from time to time rose whirling in the air; and on passing the creeks and waterpools many a wild duck flew away on clamorous wing. Only the road was deserted. In the entire distance he met not a single individual. No farmers were at work in the fields; no loaded teams wended their way to town; no market wagons filled with noisy lads, rosy lasses, or aged parents, went clattering home with recent acquired stores of dry goods and groceries. Even the few houses along the road looked deserted—in one or two the doors and windows were jealously closed, and in a few others the widely open door and broken windows revealed empty desolation within.
"About half way between Trenton and Chillicothe stood two farm houses a short distance from the road which were some months afterward the scene of a terrible tragedy that today invests the neighborhood with a strange horror. Again a few blackened beams, a pile of crumbling brick or stone, showed where a house had been. What had happened here? What had become of the inhabitants? Happily for the traveller's peace of mind he did not ki.o.v then, nor until long afterward, for those who knew of these occurrences were verv reluctant to
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speak about them.
"Our traveller, however, arrived safely in Trenton, which he found to be a town of perhaps seventy or eighty houses, clustered irregularly round a square brick building, the county court house. The appearance of the place was not such as to impress a stranger very favorably. Instead of being located on one of the fine prairies with which Grundy County abounds, the town was built on and between a number of scraggy bluffs adjacent to Grand River. These bluffs had been washed out of all shape by rains, and cut into gulleys so deep that some of the streets were impassable. The streets were overgrown with a prodigious growth of 0jimson' and dog fennel, which, when in bloom, filled the atmosphere with an odor that was more striking than pleasant. The population was rather heterogeneous. The war had swept off the best part of the people—the young men to join the Union army; the feeble and weak-kneed in body and loyalty to the more bracing climate of Montana and Oregon.
"In politics Trenton had been Democratic, so much so that in the election of 1860 but two or three votes were cast for Lincoln. Now it was all the other way. Trenton got so loyal it leaned backward; or, rather, when the really patriotic men had joined the army, many rough characters came to the surface, who, otherwise, would have remained hidden in their native obscurity, and these ruffians, assuming the garb of loyal men and Republican, v. ere a disgrace, alike to the cause of the one and the name of the other.
"In no state in the Union did men, both Democrats and Republicans, turn out in defense of their country more enthusiastically than in North Missouri; and no county in North Missouri exceeded 'loyal old Grundy.'
"Rampant ruffianism made it almost as dangerous for a man to say he was a Democrat as to say he was a rebel. Even the families of Democrats, whose sons perhaps were in the Union army, were not altogether safe.
"The Reverend Mr. Starr, an infirm Methodist preacher, whose only son was in the Union army, and who was on Grierson's staff on his famous raid to New Orleans, was subjected to numerous petty persecutions. One was the nailing of the Union flag over his front door, not as a sign of loyalty, but as a mark of disgrace—pretty much the same character as the red flag nailed to houses suspected of containing small pox.
"Street fights were common, and it was a poor day that did not afford two or three fights, perhaps coming off at one and the same time.
"The business of the town had suffered a severe shock from the war. Some of the best firms had succumbed; probably the largest amount of trading was done at 'Moberly's Corner,' and carried on chiefly by Wm. C. Benson, who was at that time treasurer of the county.
"The people were frank and hospitable in their manners, and their tastes were simple. They had few amusements. Among the ladies, good looks were then as well as now, the rule, especially among the girls up to the age of twenty, and plain looks the exception. The writer don't remember of seeing a real ugly woman except once, and she hailed from an adjoining county. To join in their social recreations, one might easily fancy himself in some primitive Arcadia, where the shepherds piped to their lasses on wheaten straws. Indeed one favorite game was called 'Weevily Wheat,' from an artless song of that name.
"This song was sung by the entire company while marching two and two around a circle. The refrain was:
I won't have none of your weevily wheat,
I won't have none of your barley. For I must have the best of wheat To bake a cake for Charley— "The song went on to tell who Charley was and what were his qualifications, thus:
For Charley is a nice young man,
And Charley he's a dandy; And Charley loves to kiss the girls— As sweet as sugar candy. "But for the matter of that, each young lady mentally fitted the name of her own particular admirer.
"There was one piano in town, perhaps two, but for good, downright ear-piercing music the fife bore off the palm. We may be mistaken, but we believe the fifer's stock of music consisted of two pieces, the one he was always playing, at least when we could hear him—and that was daily—the other tune was never heard.
"Pitching dollars into a hole in the ground was a favorite outdoor game. It was generally carried on in front of a groggery, and the players were sure to be surrounded by a circle of highly interested spectators, their interest being partly accounted for by the fact that, with western generosity, many of their games were played for 'drinks for the crowd.'
''Correspondence with the outer world was carried on by means of a hack which made a tri-weekly trip to Chillicothe. The arrival of the hack was always the signal for a crowd to gather around the post office and listen while the address on each letter and paper ,was called out by the worthy postmistress, Mrs. Collier. When the papers were dis triouted, they adjourned to some convenient fence corner to hear the news about the war. This was generally read aloud by Mr. A. K. Sykes, who has done more gratuitous work of this kind for the people than any other man in the county.
"At times the monotony of this life would be broken by a report of a raid of bushwhackers somewhere in the neighborhood, and the men and bo>s would be hastily gathered together, enrolled as militia and either stationed as guards on the roads leading to town, or sent off to protect some more threatened or scared locality.
"The writer has a distinct recollection of a cartain hurried march to the neighboring town of Edinburg, taking possession of the college there, and being quartered in the town for a day of two, very much to the disgust of the inhabitants, who tppeared more relieved by our departure than overjoyed by our presence.
"Truth compels me to say that the militia made no nice distinction between meum et team, in the matter of corn and chickens. These militia raids were sometimes more extended, even on occasion going as far as the Missouri river. On one memorable tour the Grundy County militia were gone two weeks, and scoured the counties of Livingston, Ray, Carroll and Caldwell. The militia from Mercer, Harrison, Daviess, Sullivan and Putnam, took part in this demonstration, as well as a few companies of Illinois cavalry. The writer, who never had been on horseback, was mounted on a little scrub of a pony that had a vicious tendency of falling on its nose every few yards. Two of the heaviest doctors in the county accompanied the men, well laden with lint and bandages. Several preachers also went along, presumably, to attend to the morals of their flock. The company was under the command of Captain R. A. DeBolt. The first day's march brought them to Chillicothe, where muskets and ammunition were distributed to the men, who were then slightly drilled and the new recruits initiated into the duties of militiamen, i. e., stealing fodder and trading horses. As Chillicothe was a friendly town and near home, the first was generally done by moonlight or starlight under the guidance of a more experienced comrade. The latter was performed on authority of an order issued by our worthy colonel, J. H. Shanklin, directing his men if the inhabitants did not supply them with horses when they needed them, to take them by force.
"The recruits were all apt scholars. Indeed, how could they be otherwise with such teachers? To be sure, the preference was given to rebel corn cribs and rebel horses, and a Union corn crib, if empty, was not touched, and a Union horse, if blind or lame, was considerately left to its owner. The expedition was a grand success. All the more so, perhaps, because it fell in with no bushwhackers. Rebel chickens were plenty, and so were rebel horses, and the men of Grundy helped themselves as cooly to the one as to the other, so that the fame of their exploits went through all that region round about. Indeed, it was maliciously said that when the women would hear the Grundy militia were coming they hastily gathered up their children and valuables and hid themselves in the brush. It is hard to say what gave them this notoriety; whether it was from their hungry looks (for by accident they had been assigned to the rear of the column where there was but a scanty picking) or whether it was because they had so many preachers in their company, and a natural inference in regard to chickens was the consequence—one divine had the bow of his saddle adorned with a defunct rooster, that caused considerable merriment—or whether it was, as the writer suspects to be the fact, because the militia from the neighboring counties stole anything and were caught at it invariably said they were from Grundy County. At any rate the Grundy County militia got the blame for all the depredations committed, and for years afterward were hated by the people of the river counties even as the Jews hated the Philistines. The truth is, that except taking a little corn fodder, occasionally borrowing a horse when their own gave out, leaving their name and address with the owner, the Grundy county militia paid their expenses out of their own pockets.
''One beautiful morning down on the Missouri IxDttom the bugle sounded the companies to fall into line. The tired militia, who had been reclining on the grass, or eating their scanty breakfast, mounted their horses in haste and took their stations in their respective companies. The militia of Grundy, always the first to obey an order, were soon in their places, wondering what was going to take place next. On their right and left were stationed various other militia companies composing the expedition, and on the extreme left the Illinois cavalry. Some important order was about to be given. Some said the bushwhackers had escaped and that they would be followed over the river. This was good news, for there was not one that would not willingly have gone over the Arkansas line if necessary. The officer commanding and his staff were posted some little distance off. Suddenly an adjutant left the group and rode to the place where DeBolt's company was stationed. Halting, he took out a paper and read the following:
"Whereas, continual complaints have reached the ears of the commanding officer that the militia company under the command of Capt. R. A. DeBolt, have been guilty of numerous crimes and misdeeds, whereby the morals of the command in general have been very much deteriorated, therefore they are discharged from further participation in this campaign. They are ordered to report in Chillicothe and be discharged.'
"And so the poor militia—victims of unjust suspicion and lying accusation—turned their horses heads and sadly wended their way in silence over the hills to the right of the encampment and struck out for home. The same evening on halting for the night an examination was made of the entire company, at their own request, to ascertain if any had been guilty of stealing. The result was: One old horse blanket, one curry comh, three onions and twenty ears of corn.
"The greater part of the company had too much respect for themselves to forget, for a single moment, that they were gentlemen and men of honor, and would have scorned to commit the petty crimes with which they were charged.
"Two days afterwards the company reached Trenton, where, in the the welcome they received, they soon forgot their fatigue, hunger, and mortification. In the foregoing sketch, when alluding to the Grundy County militia, DeBolt's company, composed of men living in and about Trenton, was more particularly meant, as that was the company that was especially honored on the Missouri bottom.
"Before the war closed, the disorderly spirits in Trenton, got so outrageous in their conduct that Colonel Shanklin was ordered to take a company of militia from St. Joseph, proceed to Trenton to arrest the violators of the peace, and to take them to St. Joseph, for trial. This was done and Trenton had no more trouble. The war came to a close, and with the return of the heroes who went, happiness and peace settled down, though here and there a mournful face looked out on the silent night, and the gazer thought of her loved ones lying dead beneath the stars that twinkled so tremulously in the southern sky.
"The time passed on, the clouds of war faded away one by one, and instead of the roar of the distant cannon the roll of the emigrant's wagon was heard on all the roads of Grundy and adjacent counties. Many passed on through, crossing the Missouri river and seeking a home in the distant prairies of Kansas and Nebraska, but many remained and made their homes on the rich prairie that lay between Grand River and Medicine creek, and none ever regretted having done so. Law and order, peace and plenty, virtue and happiness have existed in old Grundy for many years, and that they may ever continue to do so is the sincere wish of one who came here a stranger and found friends; who came penniless and found a competence; who came a bachelor and found a companion to cheer him to his life's end." pg 62+

 A HISTORY OF GRUNDY COUNTY
1908
 By James Everett Ford