By Diane Euston
The more that is learned about the historic structures standing and open to the public, the more it is clear that it always takes some sort of miracle and community intervention. But, keeping the doors safely open to the public is no small feat.
This is very true of one of the area’s hidden treasures, the 1859 Jail Museum at 217 N. Main St. in Independence, Mo. which, starting in May, continued a $300,000 restoration project.
Owned and operated by the Jackson County Historical Society (JCHS), a 501c3 charitable organization, the 1859 Jail Museum gives visitors a chance to step back in time and unlock the stories of some of the most famous temporary residents. But, just like all things with layers of history, how it is still standing is a testament to tenacious, concerned citizens with an eye on the past and its importance for the future.
Before the 1859 Jail
In 1821 – the same year Missouri became the 24th state, Mexico won their independence from Spain. This opened up commercial operations between Mexico and the United States. In that year, William Becknell began making trips from Franklin, Mo. to Santa Fe. Becknell, hailed as “the father of the Santa Fe Trail,” mapped out the safest 900-mile route for travelers.
In December 1826, Jackson County was formed, and a year later, a log courthouse was built with enslaved labor in Independence, Mo. The building stands today.
Independence was founded along the trail route approximately 100 miles east of the starting point of Franklin. John C. McCoy (1811-1889), founder of Westport and Kansas City, wrote, “There was an ancient, well beaten Indian trail leading from [Fort Osage] westward, following very nearly the line of the present traveled route through Independence to the state line near Westport.”
Independence fell on this old trail route and was conveniently located just four miles from Blue Mills Landing where steamboats could drop off travelers. At the time, it was the westernmost landing on the Missouri River and at its founding, everything to the west of Independence was wilderness.
The establishment of Independence on the western frontier didn’t just bring commerce and trail traffic– it brought with it lawlessness. At the same location where the 1859 Jail Museum stands today, a jail made of logs was built to house inmates in 1827.
When the building burned to the ground, a brick structure was built at a different location to replace it in 1841.
Unfortunately, the major population increase in Jackson County led to a new problem – the brick jail was just too small.
Building of the Jail and Marshal’s House
Famed Kansas City architect Asa Beebe Cross (1826-1894) arrived in Kansas City in 1858 after working as an architect in St. Louis.
Cross’ first focus wasn’t on architectural plans – he owned a lumber company. But, on the side, Cross drew up plans for some buildings which stand today. One of his earliest designs was the John Wornall House at 146 W. 61st St.
In 1859, just one year after Cross’ arrival to the area, the court ordered for a new jail to be built. The plans for the jail and marshal’s house were drawn up by Asa Beebe Cross.

Cross’ original design consisted of a brick home on the west side for the deputy county marshal with an office at the front and the jail to the east.
The cost of the building at the time was just shy of $12,000.
The stone jail, built of native materials from nearby Sugar Creek, included 12 limestone jail cells that would have originally held 3-5 people per cell.
Conditions were as one would suspect; it wasn’t built to be luxurious. The two-story jail had windows open to the elements, and a single stove in the center of the room was available for heat in the damp, dark conditions. Original cell doors with an inner door of strap iron in a grid pattern are still present today – along with leg irons.
The Marshal’s House was built with comfort in mind. Constructed of red brick in the federal style, the house features two rooms on the first floor. One served as a parlor and the other as the marshal’s office with a separate entrance used to conduct business. The second floor contained three bedrooms for the marshal and his family.
The marshal’s wife would often cook meals for her family and the prisoners in a kitchen in the back of the house.
Asa Beebe Cross’ stunning buildings at one time covered the Kansas City metropolitan area. It’s estimated that over 1,000 structures were designed by him over 40 years.
In the guise of progress, most of these buildings met the bulldozers. Thankfully, masterpieces such as St. Patrick’s Church, Sauer Castle, Vaile Mansion and the 1859 Jail Museum still stand today.
But in the case of the 1859 Jail, its story from jail to museum wasn’t an easy case of historic preservation.
Some Famed Stories from the Jail Cells
The jail was built on the eve of the Civil War in an area infamous for Border Wars outrage. The area was split for years prior to the war with proslavery bushwhackers storming into Kansas Territory as antislavery advocates invoked the same pain on their enemies. Both sides barreled into each other’s territory, burning homes and sometimes even committing murder.

In 1860, the notorious William Clarke Quantrill (1837-1865) was imprisoned in the Independence jail after a border raid but was released. It’s said he was held simply “for his protection.”
During the Civil War, the jail was used as a military prison and the Provost Marshal’s headquarters. For a time, suspected enemies of the Union – which sometimes included entire families – were held in the jail.
During the Battle of Independence in 1862, Confederates touted their victory through town, stopping at the jail to free prisoners.
After the Civil War, it was still expected for civilians to sign loyalty oaths. And, if you refused, you faced prison time.
One local Baptist minister ended up in jail due to his resistance to the oath.
Rev. Abner Holton Deane (1828-1912) was born in Kentucky and became a minister when he arrived in Missouri in 1850. He was a well-respected man of the cloth who served several churches in Cass County, Mo.
At the outbreak of the Civil War, Rev. Deane joined the Union cause. He enlisted in the Cass County Home Guard and rose to the rank of major.
Regardless of his service, it was expected in the Missouri Constitution of 1865 for clergy to take a “test oath” of loyalty to the Union or face losing their right to preach. The demand included swearing that they hadn’t aided the Confederacy in any way.
As a minister in a proslavery area, Rev. Deane couldn’t swear that he hadn’t – through preaching, he could have “indirectly” helped the rebels. He refused to take the test oath, stating, “I have proved my allegiance to my government by fighting for it; I received my license to preach from a higher power.”
Rev. Deane was arrested and hauled off to the jail in Independence.
Enraged by the imprisonment, famed artist, soldier and politician George Caleb Bingham (1811-1879) marched to the Independence jail in July 1866 with canvases, paints and brushes.
He talked with Rev. Deane as he painted two depictions of the man in jail. The first showed him sitting in the hall of the jail with a Bible on his knees. The second painting, coined “Major Deane in Jail,” depicts Rev. Deane inside his jail cell reading from the Bible. A thin mattress is seen on the ground along with a copy of the Baptist Journal.
Bingham wished to bring attention to the injustice suffered by Rev. Deane and the importance of the separation of church and state.
It worked. Rev. Deane was released from jail.
The most famous prisoner post-Civil War was Frank James (1843-1915), brother of infamous Jesse James and member of the James-Younger gang.

During the Civil War, the James and Younger brothers were part of Quantrill’s Raiders, bushwhackers who raised hell along the border. After the war, these bushwhackers shifted into an outlaw gang, famous for their successful train robberies. Between 1868 and 1876, the James-Younger gang were involved in numerous train robberies which resulted in the deaths of bank employees and citizens.
Despite their savage outlawry, the James-Younger gang were painted in the press as heroes of sorts. Under increased pressure, the Missouri Governor, Thomas Crittenden, offered a reward for the capture of the outlaws in 1881.
In April 1882, Jesse James was killed by Robert Ford in St. Joseph, Mo. in order to claim the reward. When Jesse’s older brother, Frank, heard of his death, he wrote the governor to arrange for his surrender.
A deal was reached, and Frank James was sent to the jail in Independence for a robbery in Gallatin, Mo. where a man was killed. He remained “locked up” in the 1859 Jail for 112 days.
Frank James’ celebrity status certainly influenced the community – and the people in charge of his imprisonment. He was allowed to roam the halls and was allegedly entertained in the marshal’s house.
The Kansas City Times wrote in November 1882, “He has been living a luxurious life in his temporary quarters in the Independence jail, and his receptions, surroundings, appearance and remarks have been the theme of fashionable gossip. . . His cell in the jail has been transformed into a regular saloon. The floors is covered with a soft, rich Brussels carpet; the walls hung with paintings; the table covered with vases filled with fresh cut flowers sent by lady admirers; the iron cot replaced by a fine mahogany bedstead and mattress of soft, downy feathers and sheets of snowy whiteness.”
In fact, a former deputy county marshal was fired “for taking Frank James to the theater.”
Frank James was later acquitted of all charges in multiple states, returning to his family home in Kearney, Mo where he died in 1915.
An Extension and the Near Demise
An increase in population in the area led to another addition at the 1859 Jail. In 1907, the county added a brick two-story annex to the original structure, adding 28 new cells that were used for a version of chain gangs. These “work gangs” were supervised while constructing county projects such as roads.

After a brief close of the jail in 1920, the ban of booze had the new marshal decide to reopen the jail in 1921, asserting they “needed to have jail near the courthouse in Independence.” After Prohibition ended in 1933, so did the use of the 1859 jail.
The building was turned over to the Community Services League and the Works Progress Administration (WPA) used the facility for area projects during the Great Depression.
In 1941, the building was turned over to the American Legion for a local office. But time was ticking.
Buildings with age need constant improvements and renovation, and preservation was not part of the plan. In 1958 on the eve of the building’s 100th anniversary, there were plans to demolish the building to make way for a parking lot.
Luckily, when Harry S. Truman walked away from the White House and into civilian life at his family home on Delaware St. in Independence in 1953, there was “a growing awareness of history in Jackson County awakened.”
Jackson County Historical Society was formed in 1940, and in 1958, they campaigned to raise funds to restore the 1859 Jail. The first phone call to raise money was made by Harry S. Truman; he appealed to founder of Hallmark, Joyce C. Hall.
A $1,000 check was written by Hall, and the fight to save the old jail was underway.

An 1870s schoolhouse saved from the Howard farm north of Lee’s Summit was moved to the site in 1959, giving visitors a chance to see how an old school functioned in the 19th century.
The 1859 Jail Museum opened to the public 100 years after Asa Beebe Cross designed the structure, and the effort to preserve the place for generations to come continues.
Preservation Continues
Old buildings need love, and a 2019 structural study of the 1859 Jail Museum revealed several issues that needed addressing.
Jackson County Historical Society got into high gear, raising $300,000 to address key issues. In May, the work continued to restore the pre-Civil War landmark.
The northwest corner of the building was leaning, and in order to secure it, Pishny Restoration Services are installing 120 stainless steel helical anchors on the west facade of the building. Pishny’s specialty is in historic preservation, and they are currently tasked with two large restorations of Asa Bebee Cross’ few designs remaining: the 1859 Jail Museum and Sauer Castle.
Despite the ongoing renovations, the museum remains open to the public, and visitors can currently see the work as it’s being completed.
As Pishny removed floorboards in the marshal’s office in the northwest corner, the foundation was exposed. While excavating the stone foundation, workers unearthed broken glass, dishes, tools and various bones.
Playing it safe, the Jackson County Historical Society called the Independence police; they determined (thankfully) that the bones were from an animal.
This was likely a trash pit prior to the 1859 construction of the jail, but under an abundance of caution, dirt was removed in five-gallon buckets and sifted through by volunteers. The finds were cataloged and will be on display for visitors.
Through October (including October weekend ghost tours), the 1859 Jail Museum is open from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays.
Conserving Our Collective History
On a recent tour of the 1859 Jail Museum, I was reminded of the importance of preservation of the past – of igniting interest in making sure that we support these places so they can stand for generations to come.
As I canvassed the limestone walls and walked deep into the original cells of the place, I asked a hundred questions about the people who once stayed here in shackles.
“That’s kind of the mystery of this place, because we don’t have a lot of records or pictures from when it was in use, so we continue to do a lot of research to figure out what actually happened,” Kaija Laney, Visitor Center Coordinator at the 1859 Jail Museum explained.
It’s the stories that bring history alive, and JCHS has done an exceptional job telling the layers of history that they do know on their tours. But, as time goes on, more stories will be exposed as records surface. And, in a rare example of saving a structure from the bulldozers, the 1859 Jail Museum is one of the few places people can physically see and touch the past.
You have to invite curiosity and foster opportunities within the community. As a little girl, my interest in history came from a need to self-entertain in South Kansas City.
Before iPads, cell phones and endless television channels, I would walk up the street to the historic cemetery in the old town of New Santa Fe on the Santa Fe Trail. I wanted to know about the people buried there, and as young as eight years old, I crouched down to the worn headstones with my mom in tow to do grave rubbings.
That spark of curiosity just shy of 30 years later led me on the path I’m on today. I walked in my neighborhood and found history; sometimes you have to walk children into museums to ignite the same fire I had as a child – a fire I fostered in adulthood.
Sometimes we have to remind ourselves that history is in our backyards, and in order to preserve what is left- like the 1859 Jail Museum- we need to visit, donate and discuss the importance with others.
William Murtagh said, “It has been said that, at its best, preservation engages the past in a conversation with the present over a mutual concern for the future.”
My mission continues.
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