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PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF TEXAS
HISTORY 1828-1847 BY JOHN H. JENKINS, SR Typewritten by Tammy
New As printed in the
Bastrop Advertiser Page 1 (This manuscript was in raw form. It
came with editorial marks, written spelling corrections, and lacked proper paragraph separation. I
left most of this alone, except where it was necessary to clarify the name of the subject) PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF TEXAS HISTORY
RELATING TO BASTROP COUNTY 1828-1847 BY JOHN H. JENKINS, SR. This document was dictated to his
daughter-in-law, Mrs. Emma Holmes Jenkins, of Bastrop, Texas, by John H. Jenkins. It
was secured for copying through the efforts of Mr. J. E. Haley, Research Collector in Social
Sciences. January, 1930 (This manuscript also appeared in October 1884
additions of the Bastrop Advertiser) About the middle of October in the year 1828
my father left his old home in Alabama, and came west, intending to grow up with the new country -
at least in a financial point of view. I was then a mere child, but the scenes and
incidents of those early times are very clear & distinct to my mind even now, although
more than fifty years with many and great changes, have worked upon my life since then and I look
around in vain for those who accompanied us on our journey westward. One by one they have tired upon the journey of
life, and have gone to their long rest until no sign of the old stirring times is left,
except here and there an old man recounts to his children and his children's children, the many
thrilling experiences through which an old Texan lived. Standing now and viewing
the populous and thriving cities together with the divisions of fields and pastures, as wrought
by man's hand in this half century, a description of our state as those early settlers found her
seems almost like "a tale that is told." Her broad prairies covered with richest grass
and wild rye and here dense forests teeming with game are indeed a thing of the dead
past. Memory recalls her as a proud and happy queen, holding forth her rare treasures of
grand and beautiful scenery, and bright prospects to those hardy children who came thus upon her
virgin soil, facing so many hardships deprivations, difficulties and dangers. Surrounding our small band of pioneers, was
one vast and magnificent solitude with "no sight nor sound of human kind, except the
wandering tribes of Indians in their raids against each other and against the slowly but
surely inroads of civilization - which have driven them from their native hunting
ground. I can recall many tales of horror concerning Indian cruelty, and treachery upon
the eastern portions of the republic of Texas, and as we journeyed we found
substantial proof of their truth. Near Captain Jas. Ross' on the Colorado, thirty-five miles from
Bastrop, then called "Mina" we found human bones lying grim and ghastly on the green
grass. Upon inquiry they were found to be the skeletons of Indians, who had come to Captain
Ross' first under pretense of peace and friendliness, then growing more and more
aggressive, they gradually revealed false and murderous designs, until at last for self protection, the whites collected and killed them. While here, we heard of a murder by
Indians of rather recent date. An old man by the name of Tumblestone,
was at work, tanning or dressing hides some distance from the home. A party of Comanche finding him
there alone and helpless, killed and scalped him, with the relentless cruelty, which
characterized this tribe. Coming on to Woods' Prairie, we found like bones, bleaching and
seeming to point their long fleshless fingers to coming strife, and probable death.
Besides the few families who had preceded us and were in a measure settled here, could give
accounts of many deeds of bold and unwarrantable cruelty by the Indians, who were evidently
resenting the coming of white men upon their hunting grounds. All this would naturally fill
the minds of women and children with terror and alarm, which increased as we came farther west
wars. - for we knew full well that the frontier settlers would be most exposed. Coming
on in face of all these tales of danger, we at last reached our first home, which was
situated on Barton's Creek about forty miles below Austin. Here we began life in the
republic of Texas. "Squatting" out on the raw prairie, where never a stick of timber had
been hewn, and deprived of many things generally regarded among the very necessities of life. Our absolute need gave birth both to invention
and energy how ever, and all hands, men, women and children went to work with a will to
make our new quarters as comfortable as possible. When we think of families without
houses, wagons, milk or even nails, far removed from any communication or exchange
with the world-when we think of them thus situated, one would naturally wander what
could be done; but it is surprising how much can be done, when bone, sinew and muscle are
used with a will upon any material however meager and insufficient. The change wrought upon
"the wilderness and the solitary place", would have seemed almost like magic work, to
one who simply looked upon the scene as we came upon it, and then in a few days upon the
snug log hunts, which stood ready for us to enter. And very comfortable quarters these
were-log-cabins covered with pine boards, all of which had to be out, hewn brought to hand
and built in shape, without wagons, nails or any kind of machinery. The logs were of cedar, which being cut with
axes, were dragged up with horses, while the pine boards for the roofs were split about a
mile and a half distant and then brought up by the men, holding them before them on
horseback. Having completed and taken possession of the
cabins, we settled into habits of life no less primitive and destitute of modern
advantages than the cozy little huts that sheltered us, and few of these times can imagine the ten
thousand difficulties with which we had to contend. Mother, as well as the other wives of
those pioneers, must have been possessed of rare tact and common sense, however,
willing and ready to adapt herself to all circumstances, for although our home life was
destitute of the most common necessities and conveniences, yet we never seemed to suffer
for anything. Beginning with bread, it seems difficult to
understand how corn could be ground into meal without machinery of some kind, then we
had no sieve, and no oven, but our old mortar and pessil
was a first rate grist mill, though very tedious as compared to present processes. Our sieve consisted of a wooden hoop,
over which buckskin was stretched, and this in turn was perforated with a red-hot steel
or wire. Upon our "Jonnie Cake" boards, as they were called, was baked a good bread as
was ever taken from oven or stove. Our coffee was tied in a piece of buckskin and beaten
upon a rock with a rock. As soon as possible, corn was planted, for our
bread supply was getting very slim, and neither corn nor salt could be obtained nearer than
the Brazos. Once we were out of both, and we were compelled to live a while on dried
turkey breast for bread, while our meat was unsalted venison. Our hard life as is usually
the case was a very healthy one, and we were quite comfortable in our new home,
despite all these hardships, and the prospect of Indian attacks staring us in the face. Very soon we received our first visit from
Indians, which by the way, was an entirely new experience in our lives, it being the very
first time, I had ever seen one of these red men of the woods. I remember full well what
a wild picture the band formed. Forty Comanche on the warpath under command of the famous
"Buffalo Hump" who was then young, and a magnificent specimen of savage man hood. The
warriors were almost without exception, large fine looking men, displaying to the very
best advantage, their erect, graceful, well-knit frames and finely proportioned
figures, being entirely naked, with the exception of a small apron attached to a belt or girdle,
which was made of cloth of all textures and colors, with fringes and tassels at the ends.
Keen black eyes without lashes, long plaits
of course black hair, hanging from their bare
heads down to the very ground behind them. All this peculiarity of costume combined with
their no less peculiar color, and their arms consisting of bows, arrows, lances and
carbines, made a rare picture of wild untamed beauty, which could not be viewed without interest, and once
seen could never be forgotten. They could speak only the Spanish language,
which was entirely unknown to our party except one Mrs. Woods, whose husband had been forced
on account of Indian depredations and dangers to take his family from their home in Woods'
Prairie, four miles below us and had come to us for protection. Though understanding their
language, Mrs. "Betsy" was very bitterly opposed to serving as interpreter-regarding the
savages with the most intense fear, hatred and suspicion. Under the circumstances she was obliged to
act as interpreter however, and "Buffalo Hump" being chief or
Captain was also spokesman. He first asked "Where is your
Captain?" She answered that he had gone hunting that morning, and would soon be back. He then proceeded to
state their business. Said they "meant no harm
to whites, were hunting Tonkawa Indians, their foes, were in great hurry. -were hungry-must have meat." In the few months of our stay here, we had
already gotten a small start of cattle, so we proposed to let them kill a yearling- "No, must
have big beef. If white man come to Indian hungry, Indian kill big mule or horse.-have no
cows." So without more ado, they killed one of our
finest cows and before it was thoroughly dead, were eating its raw liver most ravenously, while
the warm, red blood trickled from their mouths and down their chins. Father and Mr.
Barton, who, as Mrs. Woods informed them, went hunting that morning, now arriving with
venison of which they immediately took possession, eating portions of that raw also. There was one warrior among them, the
peculiarity of whose appearance, and position caused us to especially notice and remember him. He
was very slender, indeed was much smaller than the Comanche, as well as
different from them in form and feature-besides he occupied the position of slave to the
chief. By their own account, he was a captive Tonkawa whom they had raised from
infancy. While there he ran a foot race with one of the Comanche, and such running, we had never
before seen. They were most wonderfully fast, nimble and light, running a distance of
one hundred yards, when the Tonka, came out ahead and was pronounced winner in the race. This visitation was the beginning of a long
and aggressive series of depredations, which gradually increased in effrontery first - then
culminating in theft and murder, brought on the fierce struggles, and terrible loss of
life, which characterized the history of our frontier settlements or counties, in their
early days. For a time bands of Indians would be seen passing to and fro, in their
warfare against other tribes, and in search of game; always however seeming to assume the
most friendly attitude toward us. At length one morning we awoke to find every
horse gone, and upon examination, there were moccasin tracks and other signs, plainly
showing that the Indians had made us a visit during the night and had driven our horses
away. The discovery naturally created great excitement, and there was a general uprising
and preparation on the part of our men to pursue the thieves, and if possible regain our
horses. Upon going a very short distance however, they were much relieved to find the horses
all quietly grazing on the Prairie. The Indians had evidently reconsidered the
matter and for some reason had concluded not to take them. We afterward learned that a
band of Coushatta in their ravages, had mistaken our horses for those of some other
Indians, their enemies, and had started off with them, but day light revealing their
mistake, they had turned them loose. This was a kind of initiatory step or incident
however, and seemed to cast a shadow of coming events. Very soon other little things of a
suspicious character occurred. A band of Caddo's next came constantly in and out,
pretending to be hunting and trying to seem friendly and honest; but Messrs
Monte Woods and John Cook, old settlers, who had been here some time before us, and had acquired
considerable knowledge and experience of Indian treachery and cunning, as well as a
personal acquaintance with the various tribes, warned us that their coming and maneuvers meant no
good and probable mischief. Of course this warning put our men upon the alert and
careful note was taken of every new or unusual circumstance connected with their visits, which were all
the time becoming more frequent. Sometimes they would be joined by two or three
of other tribes, and would linger in the
vicinity as if hesitating upon some question or
mediating some new project. At last they commenced stealing-would go to Woods'
Prairie, where the families had crops growing and steal corn until serious damage was done. Immediately ten or twelve settlers collected
and arming themselves went into their camps to see about it. The Indians at once
assembled in council, and all proceeded to business. Our men informed the Caddo's that they had
been stealing - at the same time assuring them that the thing must be stopped. - that they had come for that purpose - to stop it.
The cool bravery and determination of our men had
a telling effect upon the thieves, who at
once acknowledged the theft, and gave a mule
by way of compensation, at the same time
making all manner of concessions and promises for
the future. One of our party, Mr. Jeff Prior used every power of effort and
persuasion to induce the whites to attack and kill the Caddo's without delay or mercy, but the
proposition was over ruled by a unanimous vote. The apology of the thieves was
accepted and a treaty of peace made. But the Indians would not consent to the departure of
the whites till all had formed a circle about the campfire and smoked the calumet or pipe
of peace together. The small or taste of tobacco always made my father deathly sick,
and he tried to be excused from taking part in this ceremony, but they would not be
satisfied till all had taken a whiff from the calumet. Constantly in the fall and summer of 1829 we
would have additions to our small band of settlers-Men, old and young from all parts of
the United States coming to try, or look at Texas. These newcomers were very
welcome, for we were not only glad to get news direct from the great world of commerce now so
remote from us, but we were also glad to be strengthened in numbers, in view of
probable assault by the roving bands of savages, whose visits were constantly growing more
frequent and more aggressive. This summer marked the coming of some of the
first settlers of Western Texas, now known as Bastrop County. Mr. Martin Wells now
came on from Alabama, and was the first man who settled where the town of
Bastrop now stands - though its first name was Mina. Then too one Moses Rousseau
stayed a week with us, and then moving on settled first and alone, west of the Colorado River on the
old San Antonio road opposite Bastrop. But most prominent, as well as most welcome
among these newcomers, were old Mr. James Burleson and his sons who came as strangers,
but soon were at home with their new found friends. Finding my father to be a brother of one of
his best friends back in Tennessee, their meeting was the beginning of a lifelong
friendship. Ah! How we learned to look to the kind old soldier for council and comfort.
His manly, genial bearing, his extensive experiences and his sound Judgment soon won
the confidence and love of our entire party. Little did we know as we enjoyed these visits
of father and sons how the boy "Ed" would serve Texas in the constant and severe
struggles through which she was destined to pass. I have often wished for the pen
of a ready writer that I might show forth his bravery and fidelity to his adopted state in
fitting language. Thrall in his "History of Texas," has been the
first and only historian who has paid any thing
like just tribute of praise to Edward Burleson.
If I could, I would force upon the world a fact of which I am fully persuaded, that
although partial or prejudiced minds may decide that the laurels are mainly due to a
Houston, yet in Justice and in gratitude, Texas owes to Edward Burleson the fairest,
most enduring monument, which she can erect, for among her many brave and devoted
advocated, or heroes, he was not only most faithful but most useful. Especially, is this the
truth, with regard to Western Texas-along this Colorado, for in the days, when this vicinity
was in most peril, he stood guard as it were, and was ever ready to meet any danger, or endure
any hardship that our state might demand. A peculiar chain of circumstances were linked,
and ran through the record of the family history of these Burleson's, which is not without
interest. In Tennessee, they lived neighbors to a band of Cherokee Indians, who
by a persistent course of stealing, finally exasperated them to such an extent, that the
old father with his sons and nephews, went into the Indian village to adjust matters.
The visit brought on a little skirmish, which was the beginning of a feud that
followed them through life, so that even here in the new country, chance or fate, brought them
constantly and unexpectedly together. I have heard the old man give a detailed
account of the difficulty, and have seen a scar across his breast, which was left by the
knife of the Cherokee chief, Bowles. He was old in all the "tricks and
trades" of war-especially versed in Indian warfare, having served under Jackson in the early days
of frontier troubles and the entire family seemed to consider that they owed a debt of
vengeance to all Indians. This indicative hatred was not entirely without cause, for
many friends, and even members of the family had perished at the hands of the Indians.
Upon moving to Texas, it was natural to suppose that the old trouble was left at the old home
in Tennessee, and the Burleson's settled in the Western portion of our state. Gradually
the sons, by their bravery and fidelity became "soul and center" of the
defensive work which our country required from 1833 to 1845. Considerable trouble between the
Indians and whites, arose over in eastern Texas about Natchidoches,
and an appeal for help came to Edward Burleson, who now held command of quite a strong force from the Colorado. Of course, he obeyed the call, being always
ready at a moments warning to act even unto death in behalf of Texas and her settlers.
The Indians, whose depredations had given rise to this appeal to Burleson, proved to be none
other, than the old family foes - The Cherokees under Chief Bowles. They had moved to east Texas and
true to the inherent greed and treachery of their past lives, in the old
state, had become unendurable and dangerous to the white settlers, who everywhere learned
to look to Edward Burleson for help and protection amid the suffering and dangers to which they
were exposed. Of course, the Cherokees were defeated, and their old Chief
Bowles being killed they struck out west- still changing locality, but never changing
character or habits. Sometime afterward our frontier here being a constant scene of
trouble and danger from Indian invasion and theft, Burleson concluded to make an
invading raid against the invaders, and marched with his men to the San Saba - again never
dreaming of coming in contact with the old Cherokee foes. He had a few Tonkawa
Indians in his company, and with their native intuition they soon discovered Indian signs,
where upon they were sent out under Jonathan Burleson to find the camps. Soon
they came upon a solitary Indian, who at first would not venture near, but were finally
decoyed by the Tonkawas to talk with them. Seizing him they took him to Burleson, who
made him lead the way to their camps. On Cherokee Creek, a branch of the San Saba,
they found encamped a strong force of Cherokees under young Bowles, a son of the old
chief-and again the old foes met. Burleson did not act hastily however, but
first sent the captive Indian into the Cherokee camps, bidding him say to them, that
the whites did not come to fight the Cherokees - indeed would not harm them, unless
they first made war. As soon as Burleson's company came in gunshot however
before the Indian could deliver his message, the Cherokees fired upon them
instantly killing Captain Lynch, one of Burleson's men. The fight was a close one, but
again the Cherokee were defeated - their young chief Bowles was killed and the entire
Bowles family was captured. Thus ended a feud in which circumstances
seemed to combine in always bringing together the parties at enmity. I will now return to our own lives in the new
country. In the Fall of 1829 we moved to what is still known as "The Jenkins
League" of land - then called "Jenkins Prairie" now known as "Hill's Prairie", situated five
miles south of Bastrop and west of the Colorado. A half-covered log cabin with a dirt floor had
already been prepared for us by my father and very near we had the luxury of a fine
spring. Building cow pen, lot, etc. first busied the men, then the small stock of cattle
was brought on from our first home on Barton's Creek. Ah! What a country was this
Western Texas then. It almost "flowed with milk and honey" in truth, and nothing
could be more beautiful than the broad plains covered with wild rye, and the finest grass the would ever afforded. Feasting upon such luxuries the faithful old cows gave an
abundance of milk the whole year round, and now when summer's drought or winter's
blight came upon us, and our stock suffer so much despite every effort we can make, it
is no wonder that we wish for the good old days, when the land stood "dressed in
living green". Our only neighbors were the two citizens, whose coming I already
mentioned, Mr. Martin Wells where Bastrop now stands, and Mr. Moses Rousseau on the Colorado-five
and six miles distant from us. Before we had been here long a message came
from Barton's Prairie, our former home, that Indians were growing very troublesome
stealing horses Etc. Immediately the men
all collected and went to see about it.
They were gone about three weeks, but all efforts to catch thieves or regain horses were
unsuccessful, though they trailed them to the mountains, and from grains of coffee
and other signs of civilization, they concluded the thieves belonged to the same
band of Caddo's who had stolen corn from Wood's Prairie, the previous year, as that
tribe was less savage than most others who came through here at that time. They were very
cunning and skillful in their thefts and retreats thereafter, and in this case fired
the grass behind them as they went, thus destroying all trace of their course. From now until 1833 our new lives were
comparatively quiet, so that we were gradually growing accustomed to the realities of Western Wilds.
The simplicity and limit of our farming operations in those days, would at
least be suggestive of rest and peace to the poor farmers of the present, who are trying so
hard to make money under the rule of "King Cotton". Our farms comprised about
ten acres in all, most of which was planted
in corn, and just a little cotton, only about
ten or twelve rows! In the meantime the flow of emigration
continued, and up to date we have several new neighbors. Three families, those of Messrs Hornsby, Duty and Dr. Gazley,
having settled in Mina or Bastrop and that of Major Robert
Coleman on the right bank of the Colorado a mile or two this side. In that house more
than fifty years ago, I heard the first sermon ever preached in Bastrop County. One evening in the spring of 1833, Mr. Wells
and son, riding a short distance out of Mina, returned in great haste, reporting Indians
lurking in the hills, evidently intent upon
mischief. After a brief council, the citizens
planned to trap and catch the Indians. They were to stake horses on Gill's Branch,
just out of Mina, where the Indians had been seen, then hide, and watch for them to try to
steal them, when their capture would be an easy matter. A nice plot if well executed,
but by a little heedlessness, or want of prudence, they were caught in their own net. Having
staked their horses, they imprudently left them without guards and returned to
Bastrop to eat supper, thinking the Indians would not attempt to take the, until later in the
night. They were greatly surprised upon going out after supper, to find all the horses
gone. The thieves in ambush had seen and seized their first opportunity. This theft left the
little village almost destitute of horses, for nearly every one, who owned one, rode him out
to aid in the scheme. Being therefore on foot, the citizens made no pursuit, and the
savages went their way unmolested. Early in this year Col. James Neill, an old
soldier under Jackson came from Alabama, and settled in our Prairie, where old Mr. McDonald now
lives. His bravery and experience won for him a hearty welcome in our midst, and he
was of great service to us in subsequent years. I come now to the first and most bitter
experience in my life - my father's death - sudden, mysterious and cruel. It is painful even to
touch upon the calamity that came like a pall over my boyhood and has cast a
shadow over my whole life, so that, even now, when old age is creeping on, the memory of my
father's death still looms up before me as most sad and hard. He was fast getting a "comfortable
start" owned a good many cattle, our home was being improved, and we were just beginning to enjoy
life, when he was murdered - cruelly and unjustly. He was found by friends killed, and
scalped under a large Pecan tree out in a corn field. It was said, Indians
committed the dastardly deed, but no positive clue to the real murderers was ever found. I,
the oldest male relative, was but a boy, ten years old, and nothing was ever done to detect or
bring them to justice. Suffice to say Mother with her helpless family had to settle
into a new life with out my father, as best she might. About now occurred the first scouting raid
ever made by Edward Burleson against [page 29 & 30 of original manuscript are
missing] our glass eyed Caddo, who had before been caught
with thieving parties. He was brought back to Mina, where he was held under guard
awhile, until his identity could be fully proved, and finally released. Many on the Trinity
and Brazos, who had known these Caddos only on their trading or hunting raids,
censured Burleson for their being killed, but if they had known all the strong circumstantial
evidence pointing to them as not only horse- thieves but the wretches who murdered the
Alexander's, he would have been acquitted of all blame. Soon after this Major Coleman
raised about eighteen men, and made a raid over on the Navasota near Parker's Ford, where was
situated a village of Waco Indians. A scheme was laid where-by the entire village might be
taken. Under cover of darkness, they crawled up into the very midst of the Indians, and
there lay concealed, waiting for day-light, Mr. Jessie Holdeman
was appointed to give signal for action. But matters were somewhat hastened. Some dogs commenced barking, and one
of the Indians arose and walked out to see what was the matter. He soon showed
that he discovered the concealed whites, so Holdeman realizing their danger fired, thereby giving
signal for the fight to begin. And it was a fierce and heavy fight although
Coleman's eighteen men were struggling against an entire tribe. He was a last forced
to retreat, three men - Holdeman, Blish, and Wallace being badly wounded, and one Mr.
Williams killed. Soon after this defeat,
Edward Burleson and John H. Moore raised a
good force of men, and made another raid against the Waco village, which they found
lone and deserted, the Indians having evidently left in great fright, leaving the
finest kind of corn-crops growing in their fields. Following their trail from the village for
more than one hundred miles, they came upon a small encampment of Waco's. They
immediately opened fire and killed three, taking five or six captive. From these they
learned that the main Indian force was encamped some distance on. It was already too late to
see distinctly, so they concluded to wait till morning to pursue the trail.
Starting at early daylight, they soon found as the captives had represented, what had been
the encampment of a large tribe, who had evidently left camps in great haste, for there were
their stake ropes cut. They would not tarry long enough even to untie their
houses. Man and horses were almost worn out, so it was thought best to come home, and rest
awhile before making further effort. So they commenced their homeward march,
bringing their captive Waco's with them. Among these was one squaw with a bright little girl of
three years old. This Indian child was much noticed and petted by the men, as she was not
only bright but very pretty. One night, while encamped on the Brazos, a horrible incident
occurred, which seems almost increditable. This savage mother having, by some means
obtained possession of a knife, first killed here little daughter and then attempted to kill
herself. She was almost dead next morning when first noticed, and there being no time for
delay, Burleson called for a volunteer to kill her. Mr. Oliver Buckman
came promptly forward, and volunteered to commit the deed, seemingly a brutal one, but in reality a mercy to the
wretched woman whose death was only a question of time. Taking her to the water's edge,
and drawing a large hack knife, which he had made himself, as she gazed unflinchingly into his
face, with one stroke he severed her head from her body, both of which rolled into the water
beneath. As they came on home, they discovered about a half mile from them, two Indian
warriors on foot, making for the timber, which was still a half mile further on. Some of the company
were well mounted, and they instantly put out at full speed in pursuit. The young
Indians out ran the horses and reached the timber in time to conceal themselves, before their
pursuers came up. The whites partially surrounded the thicket, while some were sent in one foot to
drive it. Soon they found and shot one, and all were busy hunting the other one. At
length Smith Hornsby, seeing him shot, but missed him: whereupon the Indian shot, wounding him
in the shoulder. Having only a discharged gun and suffering from his wound he started
from the brush at the same time calling out- "Here's the Indian!" One of
the surrounding party Wm. McGill in his excitement and haste, mistaking him for the missing warrior, shot,
and tore the unfortunate man's arm literally in pieces. A physician who belonged to the
company after an examination declared that amputation of his arm, was his only chance for
life. He positively refused to submit to the operation, declaring he preferred death to
losing his arm. So after lingering along in great pain a day or two, he died and was
buried according to the peculiar custom of the times. The earth was packed and smoothed
above the body, till perfectly level, then a fire was kindled upon the spot and left burning. __
thus where our dead slept was concealed by a seeming camp fire. This precaution was observed
in order to prevent Indians from digging up the bodies and taking scalps. On this
raid Col. Neill adopted a singular, if not a barbarous method of sending destruction upon the
Indians. Having procured small smallpox virus or matter, he vaccinated one of the
captive warriors, and then released him to carry the infection into his tribe. Nothing was
ever heard as to the success or failure of the project. The subsequent history of one of these
captives, a squaw, is not only interesting, but some what
remarkable. After living here awhile, she seemed to have a growing and shiding horror of Indians, so that when a treaty, and
an exchange of prisoners were made, she plead with tears to be allowed to remain with the
whites. Sometime afterward, a Mr. Bacon preached in Bastrop, and never before having
seen a congregation or heard preaching, she imagined the whites were holding a council
to kill her, and although several tried to quiet her fears, yet she ran away that night
and was never heard of again. Our settlers now had a short period of peace, this
raid having resulted in five or six captives, besides driving the thieving savages far
from their accustomed haunts. But the quiet was of very short duration and
once more our citizens were aroused to extreme indignation and horror by Indian
cruelty. Messer's Wilbarger, Stranther, Christian and two others from Bastrop, went
above Austin and around Brushy on a hunting, and reconnoitering excursion. One
morning in the course of their rambling they came upon the track of one Indian, which was
evidently just made. They felt sure that this solitary warrior was
not far off, and pursuing his trail far enough to find signs of other Indians, they
concluded to retrace their steps, and get home. In four miles of Austin, they camped for
dinner on the way home, and while eating were attacked by a large band of Waco Indians -
about thirty in number. Only two of the horses had been tied, while the other three
having been turned loose to graze, were out of sight. At the appearance of the
savages, the two hunters whose horses were at hand, mounted and fled, leaving their three companions
above named to their fate. Each of these in their extremity, Indian fashion, took
to a tree, and prepared to defend themselves as best they could, against such fearful
odds. Wilbarger from his position could see only the hip of one of the warriors,
but taking aim fired at that the shot taking immediate effect. A shot aimed at Mr.
Christian, only took his powder from him, and having procured powder from Wilbarger was
trying to make his way back to his first hading place, he received a shot in the thigh and
was forced to retreat. At the same time, Mr. Stranther
received a shot in the bowels, and retreated vomiting as he went. Mr. Wilbarger had his finger on the trigger
ready to shoot, when a ball struck him on the back of the neck, creasing him as it is
called. He realized that the Indians were scalping him and fainted just as Christian
fired. Upon returning to consciousness, his ears were greeted by loud yells, and
piercing wails, demonstrations of wrath and grief, which he supposed was caused by the death of
one of their warriors. Those who stood over him went to join in the lamentations,
leaving him for dead. He now had a short time in which to collect his wits and
try to save the life which the savages thought they had taken. He lay very still,
feigning death, and soon they returned as if to ascertain, whether or not he was really
dead. In their excitement, they were deceived and left him, without further
hurt. Cautiously he raised his head and watched them, as catching the loose horses
they disappeared, then almost dead from pain in neck and head, he dragged himself to a
hole of water near by, into which he crawled - Lying there a day and night - alone and in
excruciating pain. -- twenty miles from home and friends and in constant fear of
again falling into the hands of the Indians. His suffering needs no comment, and words of
description cannot touch a situation so terrible. In the meantime, the two who had
escaped, made all possible speed to Bastrop, where they reported their three comrades as
killed, having heard shots and knowing the strength of the Waco's. Of course these tidings
created the greatest excitement, and immediately a crowd of citizens went out to
find and bury the bodies of the unfortunate men, who only a few days before, had gone out
from their midst in good health and hopes, never dreaming of what horrors awaited them in the
near future. A short distance from the scene of the brief, but desperate
struggle, the company first found Mr. Wilbarger scalped and crippled - covered with mud and
blood, sitting against a tree resting, after having toiled himself along, a few yards toward
home. Poor man! It is shocking to imagine what intense agony he must have suffered, for
in his wounds worms were already at work seeming to anticipate dissolution which seemed so
near. Hurriedly some of his friends brought him home, while the crowd went on to
find the other two victims, of whom he had seen nothing since the last shot of Mr. Christian,
just as he fainted. Very soon and without difficulty, they found both killed and
scalped near to the scene of encounter. Having buried the bodies as decently as
circumstances would allow, they then took the trail of the Waco's. Very soon they found the
body of a warrior shot through the head. He was carefully wrapped in a Buffalo skin,
and concealed in a dense thicket, which they were led to search by seeing the sky above, thick
with buzzards. It was doubtless the death of this warrior which caused the yelling
and lamentations that saved Mr. Will Barger's life. They also found, hanging on a tree, by the
roadside one of the scalps - having doubtless found some objection to it, and thus discarded
it. The trail was very old and obscure, and having little encouragement to pursue it
farther, the company at length came home. Mr. Wilbarger survived this hair breadth
escape several years, but his scalp wound was never entirely healed and finally caused his
death. Later on in the same year a young man by the name of Harris, came on to Bastrop
from Alabama, and was soon well known in our community as a constant and most devoted
hunter. Out on a buffalo hunt alone, he once
discovered fresh Indian signs and hearing a shot prudently came home. In a day, or two he started again
accompanied by his two friends, Messrs McDonald, and Blakey, all still intent upon
buffalo haunts below Austin, when coming to a steep bluff, two of them
dismounted and were leading their horses, when a band of Indians came upon them, killing Messrs Harris and McDonald, who being on foot were entirely at their mercy. Mr. Blakey however
saw the danger in time, and having never dismounted escaped, bringing home the news of
the violent death of his friends. Immediately a small squad of men, hastened to
the scene, where they found both men killed and scalped. In addition to the scalp of Mr.
McDonald the savages had also carried off one of his arms, which was cut off at the
elbow. Taking their trail they followed them some distance, at length
finding, where a large band had been encamped on Onion Creek. Here they found the arm of
Mr. McDonald, which the savages had cooked to sufficient tenderness, and then removed one
small bone of which they constructed a peculiar signal whistle much used by them in battle,
and in hunting. Again there were two brothers Fall-Nash-by name, who had settled
on the Brazos, and together with a Mr. Gleason had gone in pursuit of some horses
stolen from them by Mexicans. Finding the thieves with their horses out near San
Antonio, having thoroughly "Quoited" or
chastised them, they started home with the horses.
Late one evening, just as they were ready to camp for the night, they killed some buffalo,
and it has been thought the report of their guns attracted the Indians. At any rate
having built a large fire, it being very cold, they lay down to sleep. About daylight a
party of Indians having crawled up in gun shot unperceived, fired upon them breaking the arm
of Mr. Gleason, and mortally wounding the elder Fallnash
brother, Jehu the younger of the brothers, a boy only sixteen years old, alone escaped unhurt. Seeing the three men
rise after their attack, and not knowing whether any were hurt, the Indians immediately
retreated. Amid the extreme danger of his position young Jehu lingered to saddle all
three horses - Then after trying in vain to help his brother mount, the poor fellow
being too nearly dead to ride at last persuaded him to take Mr. Gleason, and escape if he could,
assuring him that he was beyond help. So with Mr. Gleason, and his brother's horse he
came on to old Judge Smith's four a mile this side of the river and collecting four or
five men he immediately started back to find and bury his brother. It was most
remarkable how an inexperienced boy in a strange country under such exciting circumstances, could with
unerring accuracy and without hesitation, take, as it were, a beeline, almost to the very
spot where his brother lay dead. This was but one instance however out of many, which
had made Jehu Fallnash well and widely known as a most extraordinary, almost supernatural
woodsman. About now our state entered upon a series of
constant and severe troubles from the oppressions and innovations of Mexico on the one hand and
the frequent thefts and murders by the Indians on the other, so that while Burleson held a
force at San Antonio, which comprised most of our men, our frontier was thereby left almost
defenseless. The Indians growing more and more troublesome, Captain John Tumblestone raised a minute company of the few men and
boys left at home and these held themselves in
readiness for protecting the homes and families of the soldiers who were doing valiant service
against Mexico. Very soon after the organization of this company a man by the name
of Hibbins, with his family, was traveling just below Gonzales, when some Indians coming
upon them, killed him and captured his wife with two children. They lashed Mrs. Hibbins to a horse, where she was forced to travel three days, without rest or food, except small
portions of raw buffalo tallow. It is painful to think of what the poor woman must have
suffered apart from her great physical pain and fatigue, in beholding first the cruel death of
her husband, and then that of her youngest child, her babe, of whom the savages soon grew
tired and dashed his brains out against a tree. They camped one night on the Colorado,
just below where Austin now stands, and the Indians as if to tantalize her, told her that
"heap of Mexicans lived just down the river a piece." She silently put her wits to
work to devise or find some means of escape, just as soon as possible. That night after the
warriors were all asleep, she left her little boy about four years old, knowing that to take
him would but render her escape impossible. The night was very dark, and the woman had to
grope her way from the midst of the sleeping savages. While wandering still near the camps,
she heard her child calling her. For a moment she hesitated. Her child was in
distress, and her first impulse was to go to him, and comfort him. Then thinking of finding
friends, who might aid her in rescuing him, she trampled under foot
all the anguish of a mother's heart and moved resolutely onward. Following the river down as well as she could,
she at length came to some cows feeding on the prairie, and concluded to try to drive
them to their homes, thus hoping to find friends. She halloed at the
cattle and fortunately their owner, Mr. Hornsby was out after them, and hearing her voice went to her and
took her to his home. As good luck would have it, Captain Tumblestone
with his men were there upon their arrival, and having heard the woman's tale, they
immediately mounted and hastened to the well known Indian passway
intending to intercept them there. They came upon them just as they had finished dinner. Already the captive boy was lashed to a mule
and they were in the set of resuming their journey, when Tumbleston's
men charged upon them, killing one and causing the others to stampede, leaving stolen goods, horses,
child, and all. The little boy had more than one narrow escape that day, for in the
skirmish, a Mr. Roarer mistaking him for an Indian,
raised his gun and tried to shoot him, but it
refused to fire. Two of the whites were wounded, one of whom Mr. Elijah Ingrum had his arm shattered and four or five years afterward, whole out on a surveying excursion was
killed, by Indians. Some time about now Messrs. Manlove and
Edwards started to Cole's Settlement in Washington County. They were riding leisurely along on the Gotier Trace when upon turning a short bend of the road they met, face to face, ten or
fifteen Comanche's. Extending their hands as they approached, they said "How-d'
ye" "Howd'ye" Mr. Manlove, knowing their friendly overtures could not be trusted, warned Mr.
Edwards not to shake hands with them at the same time dashing right through their midst, he
made his escape. Mr. Edwards, not heeding the warning was killed instantly. Then too Messrs, Neals, John Wilbarger
and Dock Sullivan belonged to a company of Rangers on the Rio
Grande, and having been home on a furlough, were returning to their company. Riding
along near the Nueces, they discovered four or five Indians approaching. Not fearing so
small a force, they dismounted and made ready to fight. What was their surprise and
dismay to see a large band come on just behind them, and thus they were almost surrounded.
The situation was truly a desperate one.
Dock Sullivan was killed instantly on the
spot. Mr. Wilbarger was also killed after a race of four or five miles, but from all signs
he must have made not only a desperate run but a brave fight for his life. Mr. Neale
alone escaped. He was on foot and running with all his might, when one of the Indians
riding after him asked in good English "Which way are you traveling Sir?" Not
wasting time or breath in a reply, he ran on, where upon the Indian fired, the shot stunned him and he
fell from his horse apparently dead. His pursuer scalping him left him, under the impression
that he was dead. In a little while his consciousness returning to him he made his
escape, and according to latest accounts he still lives to describe his hair breadth
escape. We come now to the fall of 1835, when without
reservation or mercy, Mexico throwing aside all obligation involved in the treaty of 1824
became so despotic in her dealings with the Republic of Texas, as to venture to seal her
authority even by force of arms at Gonzales. This unwarrantable piece of tyranny and
oppression of course aroused every loyal Texas, and there was a general rallying to arms and
preparation for war. I was but a boy, in my fifteenth year, but was remarkably large and
stout for my age. Besides, by constant practice, possessing by nature a good eye and
steady nerves, I was an extraordinary shot, and as our citizens one after another took
arms and left home to face the Mexicans, I began to use every effort to gain my mother's
consent, for me to enter the army. It was all in vain however, and she positively
refused to give ear, to such a thing until the siege of the Alamo, when a new call came for
men. Then with several friends to intercede in my behalf, we finally overcame,
her scruples and objections, and she consented, though since I have grown older, I
know it must have been a trying ordeal for the lone woman to give up her oldest boy. I enlisted in Captain Billingsley's company
which was organized about ten miles below Bastrop, at what is now known as "The Old
Burleson Place." About the first of Feb. 1836 we struck out for the appointed rendezvous,
which was Gonzales. Ah! As I found myself among old friends and acquaintances, with all
of a growing boy's appetite for good beef, bread and adventure, I thought there had never
been such fun as serving as a Texas Soldier marching against Mexico. Reaching Gonzales, we
joined Edward Burleson's regiment, which was already encamped there awaiting
recruits. In about two weeks our commander in chief, Gen. Sam Houston came, marking quite an era in
my life. I thought I had never seen so perfect a model of manliness and bravery and
my admiration knew no bounds, when calling the men together at DeWitt's tavern in
Gonzales, he delivered a short speech setting forth in stirring words the complication of
troubles that threatened our republic, finally closing with a rousing appeal to every
Texan to be loyal and true in this her hour of need and of peril. I yet consider him
about the finest looking man I ever saw, as he stood over six feet tall, in the very
prime of mature manhood. Things began to wear a more serious aspect now that I
comprehended more fully the situation all in all of its bearings, and in the still hours of the
night as we lay and listened to the low ominous rumbling of cannons at San Antonio, I
felt that we were engaged in no child's play. I now began to take in all of the
responsibility, danger and grandeur of a soldier's life. While, at Gonzales awaiting
recruits, tidings came to us of the fall of The Alamo on the 6th of March, and of the
terrible less of 180 men, besides the band of 27 Texans, who during the siege made their
way into the Fort and were all slain. Many of the citizens of Gonzales perished in this
whole sale slaughter of Texans, and I remember most distinctly the shricks
of despair with which the soldier's wives received news of the death of their husbands. The piercing wails
of woe that reached our camps from these bereaved women, thrilled me, and filled me with
feelings I can not express, nor ever forget. I now could understand that there is woe in
warfare, as well as glory and labor. Immediately after these tidings we were
removed to the east side of the Guadalupe river, where the soldiers were at once wet to work throwing breastworks, and making every
preparation for battle. A heavy gloom seemed to settle
upon our men after the Fall of the Alamo, and the oldest, most experienced soldiers could be found
at all times collected about camps discussing the situation of affairs, and it would have
been amusing to note the widely different views of the various questions under consideration,
if they had not been of such vital importance to our Republic and her citizens. It was a
generally conceded point that the oncoming of the Mexican army was simply a question of
time. Some thought Houston's most prudential course would be a retreat, while others more
daring and impatient, clamored to "stand and fight even unto death!" never
retreat!". One evening Mrs. Dickinson was sent to our troops from San Antonio - by the way this
woman, with her child, were the only white persons, who were spared in the terrible massacre at
the Alamo. She came to warn us to be in readiness for the advance of the Mexican
army upon us. Our spies coming in, corroborated her testimony by stating that
they had seen three or four hundred cavalrymen approaching. Houston at once dispatched a
reconnoitering party to discover how strong and how near were the approaching forces, at the
same time, collecting our men, he proceeded to draw them out in battle array. Here and now,
I first took my stand in ranks for impeding action, and the prospect of immediate battle had but
the effect of increasing my ardor. I felt equal to any charge with my big rifle,
and grew more eager for the conflict as it seemed nearer. I remember I stood beside
Sampson Connell, an old soldier who had weathered the storms of many years and had stood to the
front in many struggles. He had served under Andrew Jackson, back in revolutionary times,
giving from personal experience and observation all the details of the famous battle of New
Orleans and others. I can never forget the expression of countenance and the tone of
voice with which the veteran soldier addressed me. Looking down almost pityingly upon me
in all of my boyish inexperience, he said "John, you are too young for this kind of
business! You ought not to be here. You stay in camps and take care of the baggage!" I felt
that this appeal was almost an insult to my dignity as a soldier, and looking him full in the
face, I answered zealously, "No sir, I am here to fight, and would sooner die than leave my
place in the ranks." The preparations were in vain however, and my courage, for the time
remained untested. The reconnoitering party, after a short absence returned, and reported our
alarm entirely false. A large herd of beef cattle, which were being driven beyond
the reach of Mexican invasion, had in the distance assumed the appearance of an advancing army.
Houston now made another short speech to his men, and I can, but recall the
ring of confidence contained in its closing words - "Why" he said, "three
or four hundred Mexican would be as nothing to this force of Texans." Between 10 and 11 O'clock one night we were
ordered to get us a day's rations and make ready for retreat. A very brief period of bustle
and confusion and each soldier fell in line with "knapsack on back and rifle on
shoulder." My knapsack consisted of about two pounds of bacon wrapped in a large Mackinaw blanket.
We took the road leading into what is called "The Burnham Neighborhood"
in Fayette County and after a tedious march camped the first night on Peach Creek only about ten
miles from Gonzales. Now after one day's steady march, carrying rifle, ammunition and
rations, tired and sleepy, I begin to realize what endurance and fortitude are required in
a soldier's life. Immediately after early breakfast next morning we were
once more formed in line of battle and then ordered to fire, prime and reload our arms,
whereupon we again took up the line of march or retreat. Here occurred my first
disappointment in Gen. Sam Houston, and some may regard it a small matter, but the
sensation of surprised and wounded pride mingled with indignation return to me even now, then I
recall the circumstances. I suppose he must have noticed how very young I was, and
how tired I seemed, for having a Negro riding along behind him, he ordered him to dismount
and told me I could ride awhile, at the same time bidding me ride immediately in advance of the
army and not get too far ahead. Ah! As tired and foot-sore, I mounted the horse, I
felt that I would be willing to die for Houston, who was thus proving himself not only
a great general, but also a kind friend to his men. The horse was very spirited, and I,
becoming absorbed in the scenery and my
own thoughts allowed him to go a little too
fast, and was rudely aroused and shocked by the voice of my hero saying " G-d D-n your
soul. "Didn't I order you to ride right here?" Of course he had to rebuke me, and I was
thoroughly aware of the culpability of my carelessness, when it was too late, but his
passionate harshness and curse, insulted and outraged by self respect,
boy as I was. Turning and dismounting, I gave the horse into the Negro's charge, declaring with all my
heart that I would die rather than ride him another step, -- at the same time I again
took my place in ranks. With those few harsh words Gen. Houston completely changed
the current of my feelings toward him, and my profound admiration and respect was turned
into a dislike I could never conquer. In the subsequent history of our State, when he
was candidate for her honors, my vote was never cast in his favor, for memory was ever
faithful in bringing back that loud curse, and my feelings as I listened. After a
steady march of three days, on the evening of the fourth day we reached our destination
which was "The Burnman neighborhood" in
Fayette County, where we lay encamped, still ever and
anon receiving recruits. Gen. Burleson occupied a two fold
relation to me being not only my commander, but also had been my guardian since my father's death. After a few days
stay here, he detailed four of us, Greenleaf Fisk, Edward Blakey, Walker Wilson
and myself to come back to Bastrop, and look after the families, which had been left here
among whom was my mothers. At the Grassmeyer place we met eight or ten families, others
having already gone on. Here I set in as a regular hand, driving cattle and
helping in all the "ups and downs" of refugee life. And a terrible life it was,
especially to the women and children. Exposed to the most disagreeable weather, wading
through mud and water over the very worst of roads by day, and tentless
by night, it was tedious and hard beyond description. In Washington County on the Brazos we met some of
our neighbors, who having left the families safe at old Washington, were on their
way back to Bastrop County to collect and run off stock from the invading Mexicans. Sam
and Andrew Neal, Bob Pace and old Mr. Hugh Childers composed the party, and they
brought word from my mother, that I had best turn back, and help them. I was relieved to try any
thing new, but exceedingly monotonous. We came in great haste to Bastrop, fearing we might find Mexicans
already there. We found Col. Williamson or "Three Legged Willie" as he was
called with a small company of men, stationed their
for its protection. I remember my shoes were worn
almost entirely out when we reached Bastrop, and Col. Williamson presented me with a pair of
good boots which were indeed acceptable. We crossed the river and collected all our
cattle at Judge Smiths place, a mile this side, then all came back to the family leaving only
Andrew Neal and myself to guard them. We felt the full danger and responsibility of our
position and kept a close watch around us, to be ready for any emergency. Very soon
we saw a man whom we decided was a Mexican spy coming on the old San Antonio road - just the
right direction for the advance of the Mexican Army. We shut the doors and
pulled out a chink in order to see and to shoot if necessary. Soon we saw five or six more men
and what seemed a large Mexican force approaching. We left the house and broke for the
river bottom. Immediately the army seemed to charge or rush
after us, and seeing we would be overtaken we hid behind some logs, and lo, upon a nearer
approach our Mexican spy proved to be a Delaware Indian, who had been trapping out on
the San Saba and again the advancing army was a herd of cattle being driven beyond reach of
invasion. The Delaware was fresh from the woods and knew nothing of the existing war. He had a horse load of beaver hides, the first
I had ever seen. Our men soon came on from the Prairie with the balance of our cattle, and
next morning we swam the river, and moved on with them. I recall a remark of Hugh Childers
here, which while it was droll and original, seemed almost prophetic in the light of subsequent
events. He called out to us to hurry, for said he, "I smell the Mexicans
now." Sure enough, we just did get away in time for the very next day Cos'
division ran Williamson's company out of Bastrop, taking possession of all cattle and everything that had been left
there. This, "The First Runaway Scrape" as
it was justly called ruined the prospects of our people and left us literally broken up. In the
first place, most of the men were in the army, and wagons or ways of transportation were very scarce
indeed. When we reached the families, at Old Washington on the Brazos with our cattle
we found them in great alarm and confusion, having heard that the Mexicans were at
Bastrop. Immediately the work of moving commenced, and such moving! That spring of 36 was the
wettest I ever knew. First, after crossing the Brazos, we had to raft across two or three
bayous, and all along we worked to our knees in mud and water. It was pitiful and
distressing to behold the extremity of the families, as some times a team would bog down, and women with their
babes in their arms, surrounded by little children, had to wade almost waist deep in
places. One very large lady, Mrs. Wilson bogged completely down and could not move until
pulled out by others. It took us a whole day to traverse that Brazos Bottom a distance of
only four miles! As soon as we reached "high and
dry" land, we camped; and after one day's rest, struck out for the
Sabine. -getting near the United States. The road was
simply terrible and upon reaching the Trinity at Robbin's Ferry, we found that
stream five miles wide and the bank was literally lined with families waiting to be crossed
over, there being only one small ferry boat, and following the old just rule of "First come, first
serve." We had to wait a week before our turn came to be put across. Just as we were
getting on the ferry boat, we heard news of the Battle of San Jacinto on the 21st of
April, but doubts were entertained as to its truth, there being so many false alarms flying through the
country, all the time. Going on five or six miles further, however, we learned the
particulars of the battle - the capture of Santa Anna & co, which relieved us from
present dread of Mexican troubles. After a week's rest, the refugee - families scattered, some
going further east, while a few, among whom was my mother, came back to our same old home in
Bastrop County on the Colorado. We found two houses in the town of Bastrop burned, and
the country sacked of everything except a few hogs. We had a pretty hard struggle
getting along about then and I remember, we found a rare treat in a few peas that had been left
at the McGehee place. It was now about the last of May, but the settlers hustled around and
soon had good prospects for a late crop. Then we occasionally had good beef. Some of
the settlers among whom were those of Messrs Hornsby, Duty and Rogers moved out of Bastrop
on to their respective localities above, and were trying to make a late crop. But now
after a singular season of quiet in that quarter Indian troubles began once more. The
first tragedy occurred in the Hornsby neighborhood. Messrs Williams, Haggard, and three Hornsby brothers
were at work in a field about a half mile from old Mr. Hornsby's house. Williams
and Haggard were working some distance apart from the Hornsby boys, and seeing a band of
ten or fifteen Comanches riding up, were naturally alarmed, but as they came nearer,
they saw the warriors bore a white flag, which was always a token of friendly intentions. They
therefore stood, and were brutally shot down, after which the wretches made a
rush for the Hornsby brothers who ran for life, swam the river, and lay concealed in the
bottom till dark, then crawled cautiously up to their home, expecting to find its inmates all dead,
and Indians perhaps still there. Upon their approach, they found everything
quiet. Fearing some trick, they hesitated a moment, then by way of a venture threw a stick
at the house, whereupon their father spoke, and upon going in, there was indeed a joyful
meeting, for all were safe. Immediately after this occurred a second murder, equally
cruel and unprovoked, and of course, the excitement and alarm increased among our citizens.
Mr. Hornsby in moving back to his home, after "The Runaway Scrape" had
thoughtfully taken a supply of ammunition and it becoming generally known, the neighbors would
frequently go to him for ammunition. Jim Craft, Joe Rogers and another man, had been
there for ammunition and were on their way home. In a mile of Joe Duty's house, they
looked back, and saw a band of Comanche's, charging in full speed upon them. There was a
terrible race and they, at length over took Joe Rogers and killed him with a lance in
sight of the house. Again, Mr. Roarer, went out to saddle his horse, and was shot at
his own gate, by an Indian, who had crawled up and awaited his opportunity. At the
firing of the gun, thirty or forty Indian ran off. The excitement at length became so intense,
and the Indians so bold in their outrages, that all the families again left their homes and
got together in Bastrop. Men went out from town in armed squads, and worked their
farms together, still tugging away at their late crops. Even this did not afford
security from the savages however, who seemed constantly on the alert. Mathew Duty and Make
Hornsby were driving cattle into Bastrop, Noticing the cows in front raise their head
and give sign of seeing something unusual, they suspected that Indians were coming, and
just did get home in time to escape a band of Indians, who were pursuing hard to a squad
working the Duty Neighborhood, rode out one evening to look over the crop. He was just out of
sight, when guns were heard and in a minute his horse was seen coming back at full speed,
without his rider. Blood upon the saddle but corroborated the dark truth
suggested by the shots, and runners springing upon their horses broke for Bastrop. A squad
of men went out, and found him killed and scalped. In the midst of all the excitement and
horror of these Indian outrages news came to us of another Mexican invasion at
hand. A fresh panic at once seized the families, and we had "The Second Runaway
Scrape". All of the families had gone in this escapade except the Woods', Berry's, and Harris', and
they had crossed the river, and camped at the "Cunningham Place: about fifteen miles
below Bastrop. At sunrise next morning eighteen or twenty Comanche stampeded the horses,
running them off, and one of our men Aleck Harris, who still lives, barely escaped being taken by
them. Realizing the danger of the route they decided not to go on by "The Gotier Trace" as first intended, but to come back
and go down the river to La Grange. Arriving at the
Barton Place, three men, among whom was Monte Woods had to go back to the "Cunningham
Place" for stock, or something that had been left behind. When about three quarters of a mile from the
house, they heard loud calling and screaming from their friends there, and on looking back
found that the Indians were behind them having come in between them and the house. Now
came a race for life and a rough race it was too, for the ground was just newly
ploughed. Several shots were fired, though nobody was hurt. We suffered a good deal of
uneasiness concerning some friends, Mr. Grassmire and Mrs. Okenber,
who had already gone down the river in a flat boat, taking what plunder they could to La Grange. We
thought the savages would surely find and kill them, but some how
they too escaped and reached their destination in safety. Some of the Crafts had moved their families
into the Cole Settlement in Washington County and were on their way back to their
farms in Craft's Prairie. In three miles of home, coming to what is known as "The
J. D. Place", a small cabin situated on a bluff belonging to J. D. Morris, they stopped to
take lunch. While eating they heard a low peculiar hum of a song, but could not
tell whence it came. It aroused them however and they got their guns, when lo, a
band of about eighteen Indians came up the hill. They evidently were not expecting
to find white men there however, for upon seeing them, they whirled, and retreated in
double quick time. Old Captain Craft shot and one warrior fell or pretended to
fall, then jumped up and ran on, where upon there was a loud and hearty laugh among them.
They stopped across the creek in the Prairie and a few shots were exchanged, when
seeing the Indians were too strong for them, the white men retreated. There was a
half mile run through an open Prairie, then seeing the savages in pursuit, they
dodged into a thick Post oak country and escaped unhurt. This "Second Runaway
Scrape" did not affect us so materially as did the first, for it was not so wet, and then
in fifteen or twenty miles of Old Washington, we received news of Mexico's
interior war, or War on herself, which quieted our fears from that source, and having
brought our cows with us, we stayed awhile very comfortably. At length however
Coleman and Billingsley brought companies up the river to protect the families, and we
came on to Bastrop, with Coleman's company. Once more the families stopped in town while
the men came out into the Prairie planting and working the farms in squads. In the
fall of 1837 three families - Bartons, Allens, and Jenkins by name, moved across the river
back to their old homes, where they found good crops awaiting them. And still Indian assault and murder constantly
threatened us. About now a man was moving a family of Negroes to Bastrop by way of the
"Gotier Trace" which lay through a
perfect wilderness. When in about a day's travel of the
"Cunningham Place" seeing some Indians, and becoming alarmed, he drove very hard to get
to the settlements that night. Failing however, they had to camp on the "Gotier Trace". They used every precaution, to
be ready for Indians, first tying their horses, and he or
a negro standing guard. Sometime in the night an Indian was discovered behind a tree,
with a bear skin extended, which he would shake trying to get the Negro to fire off his gun
at that. But the Negro was too smart, so the Indian finally concluded to kill
him. Again he was foiled however for the Negro being wide awake noted his every move and
fired at the same time, both shots taking effect, the negro's arm and the Indian's thigh being
broken. All ran off and left an old Negro woman asleep in the wagon. Coming on, they reported
the attack. Burleson took a squad of men and hastened to the scene. They found
the woman unhurt but the wagon plundered. Striking the trail, they followed it a short
distance, when they were startled by a gun snapping near them; looking around they found
the wounded Indian, who was pluck to the end. Killing him they came home, without
further pursuit. Robert N. Coleman along now held a small fort on Walnut Creek and one
night from this fort our men saw a bright fire blaze up, away over on the west side of the river,
near where Austin now stands. Immediately our light was put out. The
soldiers knew the hill from which the light gleamed and after watching shadows come and go
between them and the fire, they decided to go and investigate the matter, being very
certain that the light was an Indian camp fire. Lieutenant Wren with a few men were
dispatched to the hill, near which late in the night, they came upon eighteen or twenty
horses staked out. Now came a dilemma. Of course they knew Indians were very near,
but in the deep still darkness, who could tell where? Having secured their own and the
Indian horses, they commenced crawling around, looking for the sleeping warriors. As good
luck would have it, an Indian coughed in his sleep, and thus revealed their where abouts. Wren, then go his men together and crawling near waited for day light. Just at dawn
before it was light enough for action, these savage children of the woods lay and
answered the hoot of the owls, and the whistling of the birds, al unconscious of their impending
danger. Suddenly as if suspecting, or hearing something one of the Indians arose to his
feet and seemed listening. Joe Weeks had been appointed to fire the signal for
attack, and an Irishman Tom McKarnan, thinking it time to shoot, said in a loud stage whisper,
audible all around, -- "Plug him Weeks". Seeing they were discovered, Weeks did
"Plug" him, where upon all fired and the Indians broke for a thicket close by. Just as they
were entering the thicket one of the warriors turning fired one shot, which struck one of
our men right in the mouth, killing him instantly. This ended the skirmish and bearing
their dead man, our men came home without further action. Burleson having heard nothing from
the Gotier family in some time grew uneasy, and went to see about them fearing Indian
assault. A terrible sight met their eyes upon arriving there. Five members of the
family lay dead, and the rest gone, supposed to be prisoners. I will give the
particulars of the horrible affair just as they were given me by a surviving son, who was among the
captives and still relates the tragic story. Old Mr. Gotier and
two sons were at work in the field a short distance from the house. Mrs. Crawford, a widowed daughter of Mr. Gotier, was in the house, while the old lady was rendering out lard in the yard; with the
children at play near by. She sent a little boy and girl to the creek after water and very
soon she saw an Indian coming from the creek holding the girl by the throat to prevent her
screams. They had chocked the child until she was bleeding at the nose. The old lady
screamed to Mrs. Crawford - "Jane the Indians have got your child" and running
into the house she seized one of the guns, which the men had very carelessly gone without.
"Jane" begged her mother to let the gun alone, knowing that if the Indians saw her with it,
they would kill her, but she raised the gun to fire and was killed in the act. The men
in the field hearing the gun, rushed in upon the scene unarmed and were also killed. The
Indians then captured Mrs. Crawford, two brothers and a little girl three, or four
years old and struck out on foot for their village, making the captive woman carry her child and
a bundle of salt. She became too tired that she concluded she would have to
leave her child, and putting her down, started on; but hearing her call, and looking around,
she saw the little one tottering along, trying to follow her. She turned to go back, and the
Indians whipped her with "ouoits," or "cow hides" to her child and back,
-- literally cut the flesh with their blows. They kept the unfortunate woman with her two
children several years, often treating her most cruelly. At last however deliverance came for
them. An old Trapper, by the name of Spaulding, found her, bought all of the family from the
Indians, and married Mrs. Crawford - bringing them all back to Bastrop. I will give
another little Indian raid, merely, as an illustration of Indian cunning and running. Thirty or forty Wacos
and Tehuakena's made a raid on the Ebbins neighborhood about twelve miles below Bastrop and robbed the house of J.
D. Morris, who would doubtless have been killed if he had been at home. Burleson, with
fifteen or twenty men, took their trail, soon tracing them to a Cedar brake on Piney Creek,
about four miles above Bastrop. He then sent three men, Jonathan Burleson, Hurch Reid, and another ahead as spies. The first thing they knew, they rode right into the
Indian encampment, and were fired upon. They wheeled to run, but Jonathan Burleson was
hemmed on a bluff twenty-five or thirty feet high and made his horse leap the tremendous
height. They all three made their escape and got back to Burleson "without a
scratch." They reported the Indians too strong for our small force and said they were in a Cedar brake
only three miles from town. Burleson, at once sent out runners for more men, and in a short
time a few recruits came in. The trail was very easily found and followed. The men
riding at half speed sometimes and in a lope all the time except over bad hollows. On
the waters of the Yegua, about an hour and a half by sun they came in sight of the Indians, who
stopped in a steep hollow, tied a horse they were leading and pretended to be making ready for
fight. A shot or two was exchanged. Our men were ordered to dismount, and get in
the hollow just above them. They struck down the hollow, expecting every minute, a volley of
shots. Upon coming to the spot where the savages were
first hid, they found nothing-all were gone. They mounted immediately intending to pursue
them, but found find no sign of a trail any where, only here and there a moccasin track,
showing where one had been running, and no sign of their ever coming together again could be
found. Mrs. Spaulding, formerly Mrs. Crawford, who was at the time a prisoner with
this band, afterward told us that nearly all of these warriors died, upon coming into
camps. They had killed and eaten some fat hogs on this trip and that together with their
terrible run had killed them. The next Indian raid was a very bold one. A band
of Comanche came in day-time and rounded up, or collected about fifteen horses belonging to
our citizens-AS many men as could secure horses, mounted and started after them. Following them
about eight miles, they came upon the thieves just in the set of changing horses -
riding the stolen horses and resting their own. Immediately a running fight commenced, and
the Indians were at last forced to run off and leave their own horses, which we
secured. Nobody was hurt, on our side although Dick Vaughn's horse was killed beneath
him. It is strange that men could be so careless and could neglect matters of such vital
importance. It might almost be called criminal carelessness, for knowing the dangers to which
the families and property were exposed, yet they never held themselves I readiness.
In this particular instance men were charging upon Indian with rusty guns that would snap and
flash and fail entirely. Out of a company of ten or fifteen men only two could fire!
Hugh Childers ran right on an Indian who was riding a fat pony and his gun snapped, and he had to
see horse and thief go together. Why sometimes, when a call for men would come,
they would find themselves compelled to mould bullets before they could move. In 1838, William
Clopton went out in the pine hills near Bastrop hunting, and found unmistakable and
recent signs of Indians - saw where they had killed and cleaned a deer. Coming back to town
immediately, he tried to raise men to see about it, but could get no help, some claiming
to be too busy, while others were too indifferent even to render an excuse. That night
Indians came into town, and shot two men, Messrs Hart and
Weaver. Then men roused Clopton, and were loud in their talk of following the murderers. When it was too late, as he
very justly reminded them. No effort was made to catch the wretches, and the
unfortunate men being buried, the citizens pursued the even tenor of their way, ignoring the fact
that such deeds of violence if unnoticed would pave the way for others of greater
daring. Very soon after this two men, Robinson and Dollar were out making boards on the old San
Antonio Road, about three miles from Bastrop. They had stopped to rest awhile, when suddenly
about fifteen Indians charged upon them. They sprang upon their horses, which were tied
near and broke to run. The Indians fired upon them, killing Robinson who fell over on
or against Dollar, giving him a terrible shock or Jar. They then chased him to a steep
hollow near the river, where they hemmed him. Jumping from his horse and swimming
the river, he made his escape. The poor man was fortunate, only to be unfortunate, it seemed,
for he was doubtless killed by Indians, or by someone soon afterward. Determining to
leave this country and go back to his old home in Tennessee, be bought a horse and
disappeared, and was never more heard of; but through letters from Tennessee, we learned that he never
reached home. Mr. Robinson was buried, and still men took no pains to find and punish
the murderers. |
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