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Bastrop County, TX |
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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 2 In the spring of 1839 old Mr. Gideon White
with two or three neighbors went out on the head of Wilbarger's Creek, to kill buffalo. Finding
many fresh Indian signs they came into town and reported. A squad of fourteen men met at what
is known as the "Wilbarger Place", and just as they were starting received news of the
murder of Mrs. Coleman. The particulars were substantially as follows. She and her little
boy five years old were in the garden, while the rest of the family consisting of three
children were in the house. A force of one hundred and eight Indians came up and
dividing, one band went to Mr. Robinson's house near, while the other division came on to Mrs.
Coleman's house. The first thing she knew, the savages were right at her. She started to
run, but upon stopping to help her child along received an arrow in the throat which killed
her. She lived however to reach the house, help her son bar the door, and then
sitting down upon a chair fell over dead, without a word. The Indians captured the five year
old boy, who was with her in the garden but still there were three children in the
house, the oldest of whom, Albert Coleman, a lad of fourteen years, deserves to have his name
enrolled among the heroes of those bloody times. With two helpless little sisters, he stood
above the dead body of his mother, and succeeded in keeping the savages out of the house. They must
have supposed there were armed men in the house, which was natural judging from the number
and effect of Albert's shots. He had a breech loading "Yorger"
and as they came up shot, then said "I killed one!" Reloading
he wounded another. They shot into the house at
him, striking first the breach of his gun, shattering it and scattering the lead all I to
the faces of the little girls who stood around him, and at last killed the young hero;
where upon his little sisters ran under the bed. The Indians went round the house
and poked their lances through the cracks, trying to kill them. A loud yelling from the other
division, called them away, and the little girls leaving the house, took to the river
bottom and escaped. The loud yelling was at the running of a Negro, who got away from
them. Our men went right on and took their trail. Captain Grumbles was commander or
leader of the small company. After trailing them four or five miles, they overtook them.
The Indians halted and prepared for fight. Although the force was entirely too strong,
consisting of over one hundred warriors, yet some of that little force of fourteen wanted to
attack them. Grumbles very wisely ordered a retreat however and coming back, runners were
sent in every direction for men. Soon forty or fifty men under command of Jacob Burleson,
brother of Edward, were on the trail, which they had no trouble in following. The
Indians were evidently not afraid, and had made no effort to conceal their whereabouts, doubtless
feeling their own strength. Burleson's force over took them at Brushy
Creek, and dismounting attacked them immediately. The Indians then charged and Burleson ordered
a retreat. Coming right on, the savages were very near over running some of our men, before
they could reach their horses. Jonathan Burleson another brother of Edward Burleson, was killed, but no other man was hurt. On their return march, when they buried Burleson,
they found that the savages had cut out his heart. Thus another of our bravest men was
sacrificed. About four miles back on the retreat they met Gen. Edward Burleson with
reinforcements, and at once turned for a fresh charge. In the meantime the Indians had secured a
fine position in a hollow, and could not be drawn from ambush. Some of them were
well armed and fine sharp shooters. The fight continued until dusk, and might be termed a
drawn battle, but during the night the Indians retreated. Ed Blakey, John Walters, and Parson
Gilliland, three more of our best citizens, were killed here, leaving dependent and
defenseless families. In the mean time,
William Handcock had charge of a small squad of
recruits, to which I belonged. We were just behind Burleson's force, and were making all possible
speed to overtake them. About sundown, as we were riding along in couples, considerably
scattered, we saw to our left a band of men moving about, and thinking they were
Burleson's force, we turned aside to join them, not dreaming of danger, until they charged upon us
and we saw that we had approached a band of Indians. We retreated to a mot
of timber where we awaited an attack for sometime,
but for some reason they gave up the charge and we waited in
vain. In the meantime we were much perplexed as to the whereabouts of Burleson's force. Finally,
after a short deliberation, deciding it to be dangerous for so small a party to be
riding around in face of such odds, and uncertainty, at night, we returned to the settlements.
The Indians kept the little boy of Mrs. Coleman, till he was almost grown, when our men bought him
from them. He had however so imbibed their ideas and habits, that he went back to them never
feeling satisfied among the whites. One man was wounded, besides the four killed.
He received a slight wound in the mouth from a rock, which some thought was shot, while I
believe, with others, that a bullet knocked the rock up. That night men were stationed in and
around Bastrop as guards. Late in the night having neither seen, nor heard sign of danger
they had just gone in, when old Mr. Eggleston, hearing an unusual noise, went out
to see about it, when he was shot through the bowels with an arrow, inflicting a wound from
which he died next day. Thus ended "The Battle of Brushy Creek".
Next came the largest most horrible raid ever made by Indians upon Texas, which resulted in the
famous battle of "Plum Creek." A large band of Comanches
under the notorious chieftain "Buffalo Hump" took possession of
Victoria, then came on down Peach Creek, through a
sparsely settled country, burning houses and killing until they came to Lynnville. They were
supposed to have been guided by Mexicans. On their way they came upon Mr. Foaly and Parson Ponten, who
were going across the country to Gonzales. Foaly
was riding a very fine race horse, while Mr. Ponten's
animal was old and slow. They saw the Indians, about a
quarter of a mile off and whirled to run. The race horse soon bore Foaly
far in advance of Ponten, who was fast losing
ground. The first Indian swept past him without even turning
his head. Foaly on the race horse was evidently the prize upon which he was bending
every energy. The second Indian came on, and in passing, struck him on the head
with his spear-he too, intent upon over taking Foaly. A third as he came, drew his bow, and
shot, the arrow striking his leather belt with such force as to knock him from his
horse, where he lay as if dead, but pondering whether or not he should shoot, his double barreled
shotgun being still at his side. He wisely concluded to be still and the rest
of the Indians passed him without a pause, doubtless thinking him dead. As soon as the last one
had gone by, he sprang up and crawled into a thicket and there lay hid until they
came on back with Foaly who made a brave run but was caught at last. They chased him (Foaly) to a little creek, where they hemmed him and as a last resort, he dismounted and tried to
hide in a water hole. From the signs they roped and dragged him out, and brought
him on to the spot where they had left Ponten, seemingly dead. Finding him gone, they made Foaly call him, but of course no answer came. The cruel wretches then shot and scalped Foaly, and it was that when found, the bottoms of his feet had been cut off and he seemed to have
walked some distance upon the raw stumps. Ah! The cruelty of those Comanche warriors
knew no bounds. The Rev. Mr. Ponten himself gave me an account of this race, and its attendant
particulars, and I think I can couch for its truth. At Lynnville they burned a
few houses, killed a few more citizens and then went on unmolested. They took two
captives, Mrs. Crosby and Mrs. Walters whose husbands were killed in the fight, and started back on
their incoming trail. It is strange, but true that all this was over before we
had heard any of the circumstances. Captain John Timblestone
immediately raised a squad of forty or fifty men, and taking their plain trail came upon them on their way
out, -- a large force of between four, and five hundred Indians. Our Captain was nothing
daunted however and ordered our men to fire a charge upon them. He was brave, cool and
deliberate, and I have always believed would have whipped out that Indian force, if a
misunderstanding among the men had not forced him to draw off, with the loss of one man.
The Indians charged upon the rear of our force, which was composed of Mexicans, who came near
stampeding, and thus brought great confusion into our ranks. Tumblestone
then followed along at a distance receiving recruits constantly. By this time, the news being well ventilated
here around Bastrop General Burleson raised all the men possible and started out anxious to
intercept them at "Plum Creek". Every now and then we met runners, who were sent to bid
Burleson come on. We rode till midnight, then halted to rest our horses and very nearly
next morning we were again on the warpath, still meeting runners at regular intervals
beseeching us to come on. We fell in with the Guadelupe
men in the edge of Big Prairie, near Plum Creek, about two miles from where Lockhart now stands. We were now
ordered to dismount, "lay aside every weight" examine our arms and make ready for
battle. Houston's men had gotten in ahead of the Indians, and were lying in a little mot
of timber, when they heard the Indians coming on, seemingly ignorant of our close
proximity to them, for they were singing, whistling, yelling and indeed making every conceivable
noise. Here while awaiting the Indians, we of Burleson's force joined
them. A double filed line of march was formed, Burleson's forces from the Colorado, marching
about one hundred yards to the right of Houston's men from the Guadelupe,
and in sight of the Indians. Four men were sent ahead as videttes or spies
and the rear guard of the Indians, consisting of four warriors, turned and road leisurely back to meet them. Slowly
and deliberately they came on making no sign or move for fight. When within
twenty steps of our spies, Col. Schwitzer raised his gun and killed one, where upon the others
beat a hasty retreat for their main force. Burleson ordered us to "Spur up",
and we rode very fast. We saw confusion in the Indian ranks, which we could not then understand. A
squad of men seemed retreating in face of a pursuing band of Indians. They were
evidently "divided against themselves or pursuing some other body of men. At length we were
discovered by the main force of Indians, who immediately formed line between us, and their
pack mules, stolen horses, where they awaited us. When in one hundred and fifty yards of
this line, we were ordered to dismount and one man of the double file line held both horses,
while his comrade shot. It was a strange spectacle never to be forgotten, the wild,
fantastic band, as they stood in battle array, or swept around us with all strategy of Indian
warfare. Twenty or thirty warriors mounted upon splendid horses, tried to ride around us,
sixty or eighty yards distant, firing upon us as they went. It was a superstition
among them, that if they could thus run around a force, they could certainly vanquish it. Both
horses and riders were decorated most profusely, with all of the beauty and horror of their
wild taste combined. Red ribbons streamed out from the horses tails as they
swept around us, riding fast, and carrying all manner of stolen goods upon their heads and
bodies. Here was a hugh warrior naked, and wearing a stove pipe hat, another wore a
fine pigeon tailed cloth coat, buttoned up behind. They seemed to have a talent for
finding and blending the strangest, most unheard of ornaments. Some wore upon their heads
immense buck, and buffalo horns, and one head dress struck me particularly. It consisted of a
large white crane with red eyes. In this run-round, two warriors were killed, and a fine
horse. We were now ordered to reload, mount and charge. They at once retreated
though a few stood until we were in fifteen steps of them before starting. In the mean time the same warriors played around us at the right, trying to divide our attention and
force, while the main body of Indians retreated firing as they went. Soon however they
struck a very boggy bayou, into which all of their pack mules and horses bogged
down. A number of our men halted to take charge of these and such a haul as they were making.
The mules were literally loaded with all manner of goods, some carrying even hoop irons to
make arrow spikes. They bogged down close together that a man could have walked along
on their bodies dry. Still the Indians retreated while the whites advanced, though
the ranks on both sides were constantly growing thinner, for at every thicket, a
savage left his horse and took to bush, while every now and then a horse fell under one of our
men. Still about twenty warriors kept up their play upon our right, while an equal
number of our men kept them at bay. In this side play Hurch Reid was
wounded. He undertook to run on an Indian and shoot him. As he passed, his gun snapped and before he could
check his house, an arrow struck him, just under the shoulder blade, piercing his lungs and
lodging against his breast bone. Then one of the most daring and best mounted of the
warriors was killed by Jacob Burleson, who was riding the notorious Duty roan, the race
horse which a while back bore Mathew Duty to his death and which finally fell into Indian
hands. This broke up the side play. Burleson with about twenty-five men pursued them to
within a mile of the San Marcos River, where they played out, and we retraced our steps. One instance of the hardness and cruelty of
some men, even though not savage in form and color, was shown us on this raid. As was often the
case some squaws were marching in Indian ranks, and one of them had been shot, and lay
breathing her last-almost dead, as we came by. French Smith was most inhuman and unmanly
cruelty, sprang upon her, stamped her and then cut her body through with a lance. He was
from Guadalupe, indeed I do not believe there was a single man from Bastrop, who would have
stooped to so brutal a deed. Ah men almost forgot the meaning of love & mercy &
forbearance amid the scenes through which we passed. While halting to rest our horses, we heard a
child cry, and a Mr. Carter upon going into the thicket found a fine Indian baby, which had
been left in the retreat. Joe Hornsby and myself were riding about two hundred yards
ahead of Burleson's main army, watching for Indian trail and signs as we went.
Suddenly we came in sight of about thirty Indians some distance ahead. At first Joe said they
were Tonkawas, who were a friendly tribe living in our midst. Upon seeing their
shields, however we knew they were hostile. I galloped back to notify Burleson, while he kept his
eye upon them. In thirty steps, Burleson ordered us to fire and the action was
simultaneous, though no one was hurt only two horses killed. At one time here, I
felt as if "my time" had come, sure enough. We had fired one round, and I was down loading
my gun when I saw an Indian approaching me with gun presented. At this critical
moment Joe Burleson shot, killing him instantly. We discovered afterward that the Indian's gun
was not loaded, and he was playing a "bluff"
game to get possession of my horse. We had a hot race after another
warrior on foot, who was unarmed except bow and arrow,
but would turn and shot as he ran. Gen. Burleson rushed at him with pistol
presented, when an arrow from the Indian would have killed him if he had not stepped back. Then
the warrior aimed another arrow at Monroe Hardeman, which missed him, but was
driven eight inches into his horse. The hardy warrior made a brave, and persistent
fight, and even after he was knocked down, drew his last arrow at me, the man nearest to him.
I killed him just in time to save myself. What fancies they had in the way of
ornamenting themselves! This savage presented a strange picture as he lay decked in beads etc, sleeping the "dreamless sleep" of death. He also carried around his neck a tiny whistle
and tin trumpet. The stolen horses, mules and goods were divided among the soldiers,
with the consent of the merchants, who could not satisfactorily identify the articles. Among
other things a Comanche mule fell to my lot, and an odd specimen he was, with red ribbons
on ears and tail. On return march, we found a Texan dead and scalped. The
explanation of his death furnished an explanation of the confusion that was observed in the Indian
ranks, on the advance. It happened in this way. A squad of men on the Indian
trail, came on their advanced guard and thinking they could easily manage so small a force dismounted in
a Live Oak Grove and awaited them. Seeing the full force, however they mounted
and retreated. One man, the unfortunate one whom we found scalped was left by his horse as
well as his comrades and thus had met his terrible fate. We also found the body of Mrs. Crosby,
whom they had killed when obliged to retreat and near by
we found Mrs. Watts, whom they had left for dead, having shot an arrow full into her breast. A thick corset-board
however received and impeded its force, so that though wounded she was still
alive. She was a remarkably fine looking woman, but was sunburned almost to a blister. Gen.
Burleson was riding his well known and much admired horse, "Scurry" on this
march, a present from Richard Scurry, an intimate friend and valiant soldier, hence the horse's name. In
1841 the Indians made a little raid into the Burleson
neighborhood and stole a number of horses. A small squad of men was raised quickly as
possible, and pursuit was made. A run of fifteen miles brought them in sight of the
thieves at Ridgeway Fort on the waters of the Yegua. The
warriors were eating breakfast, and as our men, approached made no move to retreat. The first fire killing two,
and wounding one, they retreated. The whites escaped unhurt, though one horse was shot. One
their way from this skirmish, they went to "Brushy Creek" and coming to
Kinney's Fort, pretended to be friendly, but killed Dr. Kinney and Castlebury.
No pursuit being made, very soon they came again into the same neighborhood, on the same errand and again they were
successful. Among the other horses stolen, was Burleson's celebrated,
"Scurry". Gen. Burleson accompanied by eight or ten men took their trail immediately and having
followed them to the middle Yegua, came upon them camped in the edge of a strip of timber about
three quarters of a mile distant. They had open prairie to run through, and all struck
forward. Mr. Spaulding was riding a splendid horse, the fastest runner of the crowd and he
let out at full speed. The chase was exciting to all, but Burleson was almost wild
in his eagerness to regain "Scurry." Seeing Spaulding making best speed he called
out - "Twenty five dollars for Scurry, Spaulding." Further on in a louder tone,
he called - "Fifty dollars for Scurry, Spaulding!" and still further on - "One hundred dollars
for Scurry!" Much to his joy "Scurry" was regained. Now Indian stealing became almost a
constant thing. Sometimes they would make a raid in the Stantiford
neighborhood, then on Wilbarger Creek, and then in our immediate vicinity, and along the Colorado, Indeed their
boldness and greed became not only remarkable, but alarming. A man was lying asleep in his wages
and they took his horse which he tied to one of the wheels, without waking him. Then
they would come in day time and once were in the act of trying to steal a little boy, when
discovered. A small company of men at length went out in pursuit. In Big Prairie on "Willbarger Creek", they saw a gang of
"Mustangs" feeding, while a solitary horse stood tied three or
four hundred yards off. Their curiosity was excited; but they soon saw Indians
crawling upon the Mustangs-They were so engrossed in trying to get the horses, that they did not
discover the whites until they rushed upon them. A running fight then commenced, the
Indians retreating on foot, while we were riding. Only one white man Mike Young was wounded, but
not fatally, while three of the Indians were killed and one old warrior crippled. It
was touching to see the devotion of a young Indian, presumably a son, who lingered
by him a long time making every possible effort t reach Brushy
Bottom with him. As the whites gained ground and he saw death would be the result of longer delay, he at
length started off, but a few words from the old Warrior recalled him. He tarried
only long enough however to divide arrows and then left his father to his fate. The
time lost in helping the old man cost him his life however, for he was overtaken and killed
before reaching the bottom. Three quarters of a mile further on, we discovered
their camps, and from every sign, they had brought their families and temporarily
lived, for there was the print of children's moccasins as well as those of squaws. But they
had fled in alarm, and all was deserted. The raids and persecutions of the Indians upon
our vicinity became so frequent and constant along now that it would be entirely
superfluous to try to give in detail, as well as impossible to chronicle them in
regular order. After this raid occurred the killing of another of our best citizens,
Mr. William Lentz, who was way laid, and shot near where Mr. Fallnash
had been murdered sometime before. A little old cannon used as a signal for our men to collect at
Bastrop was a relic of the Mexican War, having been dismounted and thrown into the San
Antonio river by Philisoli at the battle of San Jacinto. Immediately upon the
murder of Mr. Lentz, the cannon called together Burleson's little band which was promptly in
pursuit, though as usual nothing was accomplished. Mr. Hancock, one of our neighbors
brought on eight or ten fine horses from Tennessee, and in two weeks all of the,
together with mine, and others were stolen. A small squad of men under Captain Gillespie
was soon in pursuit and with every advantage this time, and we came in sight of them on
Onion Creek, at what is known as "Marshack Springs." When about a half mile
off we charged upon them, where upon they mounted. One of the warriors leading a very fine horse
pretended to be leading a charge. Two came round toward us, evidently trying to draw us
off. The leading Indian was cut off, and was chased about a mile up the creek by
Campbell Taylor, and Jas Patten. They hemmed him and Patten discharged both barrels of his gun
without effect. The horse fell, and the Indian though left afoot made his escape. In
the mean time Captain Gillespie with his body of men, hemmed the thieves so they
were obligated to dismount, and leave their horses all of which, were regained, except three. In the spring of 1842 William Perry, William
Barton, Henry Lentz and myself made arrangement for a camp hunt. We took provisions
intending to stay two or three nights. We made our way toward the head of Lentz Branch intending to
camp right at the Indian passway - although the Indians were still very troublesome. We
were riding leisurely along in couples about eight miles from home and near our destination. Mr.
Perry was entertaining us with accounts of his numerous adventures among Indians on the
Brazos and we were all much interested. No matter now absorbed or entertained I might be
however, I was always on the alert and wide awake in the woods, though would go whatever
dangers awaited me. In the midst of Perry's narrative, on looking to my left, I saw an
Indian walking in the long grass, about two hundred yards off. I saw him, just as a brush
intervened, and road up fast thinking to see him better, when past the bushes, at the
same time interrupting Perry with "Yonder's
an Indian now!" When we came past the
brush, no Indian could be found. Seeing us, he had evidently crouched in the high grass, and
my friends naturally argued that I was mistaken. I could have sworn if necessary that I
saw an Indian and I would not go another step till we went over on the hill, and looked
into the matter. We felt equal to a small force, so we primed our guns and rode abreast
looking cautiously around as we went. Soon we saw dark red objects on the side of the hill
lying perfectly still in the grass. I pointed them out, at the same time declaring them to
be Indians. No, they said it was a clump of red rocks. I knew the hill,
however, and was certain no red rocks lay there, then they agreed it was some red hogs
belonging to Mrs. Lentz, still I was sure they were Indians. We still advanced slowly upon
them and were in sixty yards of them when our dogs sniffed in that direction, and barked. Still my
companions were unconvinced. Suddenly William Barton said "Something
moved." And almost instantly the red rocks were seen to be Indians, who fired upon us, the blaze of
their guns seeming to almost touch us. The hill seemed to be fairly alive with their
moving bodies, thirty or forty warriors rushed upon us. We ran for dear life, but Henry
Lentz, who was carrying our provisions on a slow mule came very near being caught. His mule ran
off, or shied to one side and would not go, till the Indians were almost ready to grab him. We
advised him to throw off the pack, which he did, whereupon the animal took fright and
such running as it did is seldom seen. After a run of two hundred yards, we saw that none of
them were riding and felt more secure. I proposed to turn, and fire upon them, and
wheeled my horse to shoot. I saw them coming in a string, whooping and yelling, Mr. Perry
said, "Don's shoot, they'll return fire and cripple our horses, then we will be caught
sure." I took his advice, and hurrying home, we went to Bastrop, that night to raise men to
follow the Indians. Next morning, twenty five men were on the ground, finding a
tomahawk, a knife and a bowstring broken, as signs which they had left, as well as a plain trail
leading to their old pass way. In four miles we found, where they had cooked and eaten our
provisions, and must have spent the night. It was no trouble to follow them, as they
seemed to have gone without fear taking no pains to conceal their rout. We got so near them
that our horses would sniff and snort, and our hound barked, which probably caused the
Indians to scatter for immediately we lost our plain trail. According to their custom of perplexing
their pursuers, they separated and we found it impossible to go farther, so at night fall we
turned back for home tired and disappointed. Their raids were constant, and in this same
spring occurred one which brought quite an interesting little adventure into my own personal
experience. About midnight I was awakened by the running of our cattle and the snorting
of a wild mule, which we had left out, having put our horses in the stable. It was a
freezing night but without stopping to dress, I took my gun and slipped out to the stable to guard
the horses. I sat there sometime, till nearly frozen. Could see no Indians,
nor sign of Indians except an occasional disturbance among the cattle. I went into the house
dressed myself, kindled a little fire, and awoke my younger brother William, then
about fourteen years old. Taking a gun apiece, we went out together. We
started across the truck patch taking a near cut to the fence, then remembering how well
Indians could hide in the long, thick grass, lining the fence corners, we left the fence about
fifty yards to our left all around. My dog was with us, and we kept him very near
us all the time. On looking around once I saw a dark object, between us and the house,
but concluded it was the mule. Then I heard a low strangely smothered sound,
probably a note of warning, which I could neither locate nor understand. I asked, William in a
whisper, whether it came from Indians or
the mule. In an instant however I saw the
unmistakable form of a man step toward the fence. I tried to cock my gun, but it would
not stand. I then pulled the hammer back and it fired clear. Thinking the Indians would
run at this, I raised a regular Indian war whoop. About six men rose from the grass in
the fence corners, and with an answering yell rushed upon us. Seeing the odds, and
bidding William follow me, I broke for the house. My dog, "Gen. Cos", running into the
thick of the crowd must have troubled them for he was cut in two places. The Indians were
evidently trying to cut us off from the house, which I think "Gen. Cos" prevented.
In an instant I looked back and saw William snapping his gun at them. There was a large thicket near by, and I told him to hide in that, while I taking my Derringer went toward the house,
and when about eighteen steps from the Indians, I exerted my lungs to the utmost in
another loud and prolonged yell, firing into their midst, where upon they stopped, and
I ran between them and the house at the same time calling William to follow. I thought of
reloading but found I had left all my ammunition in the house when I went in to
warm. I then snatched his gun and tried to fire, but no use, three snaps, and no
discharge. We went in, and reloading, expected an attack upon the house every minute. They were
making every imaginable noise, crying, whooping and yelling. Mr. Bob Pace, who was
working at Mother's, and myself got out horses, and prepared to follow the Indians and to
notify the neighbors. They were evidently carrying off their dead warrior,
whom I was confident, I had killed and hearing our horse's feet, they dropped the
body in the long grass, where he was afterward found. Five or six men were at the scene of
disturbance early next morning. Upon a thorough examination of the ground, there was nothing
to be found except a tin cup, with its buckskin string cut by a bullet, and some wool from an Indian
blanket-not one sign of blood. The sage grass was shoulder high and of course it
was a matter of some difficulty to trail or
trace anything. We struck a trail of four
Indians, but in four miles came to a gravelly ridge, and lost the trail coming home once more after
a fruitless search. The next morning Mother and I went to "Old Comanche"
at the mouth of Onion Creek for a wagon, which she had ordered made. We spent the night at Mr Collingsworth's the wagon maker's. There had
been so much horse stealing Etc
that we took every precaution to secure our horses. They were tied in the chimney corner, while Mr.
Collingsworth slept with his bed by the window, where he could see and hear any attempt that might be
made to take them. I am clear of superstition, but had a dream that night, which was fully
corroborated by subsequent events. About midnight I dreamed that Indians had stolen our
horses. So vivid and plain did it seem that I awoke Judge Smith, with whom I was sleeping and told
him of it. The old man turned and muttering something about dreams, bade me go to sleep. In a short
time Mr. Collingsworth raised the alarm-all our horses were gone. The thieves had come
within four feet of his bed and cut the horses loose, taking them off. We then had to
strike out afoot to borrow horses before any pursuit could be made. Early next morning six
of us took their trail and followed them to Mr. Baker's, a neighbor, where they had
tried in vain to get into the stables, and then moved on. We followed the trail five or six
miles up Onion Creek and here we were forced to abandon our pursuits, for a violent storm
with sleet etc came, and we had to come back to Mr. Collingworth's.
Here mother and I were twenty miles from home on
foot. Then too, we had left home in warm, bright weather and
were unprepared for cold. I had on moccasins, pleasant & light in pleasant weather, but the
coldest shoes on earth in cold weather. Mother bought a horse, and rode home, while I
walked. Upon reaching home, they had found the body of the Indian I had killed, about a
half mile from the house lying in the grass, wrapped in a fine mackinaw blanket. Still a half mile
further on they found another blanket, with spots of blood and a bullet hole through
it, a quoit an Indian head-dress and the grass, ever a space of ten feet square, was
wallowed down - indeed it was pain that another Indian had been badly hurt if not killed and
carried off. If possible they always carried their wounded or dead home with them. This was to
avoid having them scalped, it being a superstition, that an Indian could never enter
the "Happy Hunting Ground," if he lost his scalp, or indeed any part of his body. He must be
whole - no limb, or member missing. After a sleety walk of twenty miles, it was some
satisfaction to find that the thieves had not escaped entirely unhurt, and although they had stolen
our horses, yet I killed two of them. There was a cowardly tribe living among us.
The Tonkawas, who were at peace with the whites, hated all other Indians of every tribe. Only a
short time before this a band of Waco's had killed five of them while out hunting, and
of course this increased their hatred toward Indians. Hearing that I had killed one
of their enemies, they came in a body, thirty of them, and insisted that I should go with them and
show them the dead warrior. As we went their excitement, and speed increased and
every now and then; I would have to point in the direction of the body. Then they would trot on faster
than ever, while I trotted with them, determined to keep up and see what they intended doing.
When they discovered the body, they seemed wild with delight or frenzy. They
sprung upon the body scalped him, cut off both legs at the knees, both hands at the wrists,
pulled out his finger and toe nails, strung them around their necks and then motioned me to
move aside. Seeing they meant further violence to the body, already horribly mutilated, I
demanded why I must move. They said, "We must shoot him through the head for
good luck." I tried to stop them, but they would hear nothing, said they were compelled to shoot
him for luck. I moved aside and they shot, tearing the head literally in pieces. They then
went back to the house and camped getting me to furnish them some beef. They boiled
their beef, and the hands and feet of the deed Waco together, turning them with the same
hands. Upon inquiry I found they intended having a dance, and would feed their squaws on the
hands and feet of the dead Indian, believing that this would make them bring forth brave
men, who would hate their enemies and be able to endure hardness and face dangers. They
erected a pole to which they attached the scalp, hands and feet of the Waco, and then with
horrible yells and gestures, all would dance around it, while the squaws would constantly
dance up to the pole, take a bite from a hand or foot and then back to the dance again.
They would prolong these dances three, five and some times ten
days. Very soon probably a month after Handcock's horses were regained, they were again stolen. A small squad of men
were immediately in pursuit trailing them about twenty miles, when striking a mustang
range the trail was lost. We concluded to try to intercept them at their old pass between
Onion Creek and Blanco. Reaching Blanco little before sundown we camped, and next
morning went on in search of the trail, but mustang tracks again bothered us, and we had to
abandon the pursuit. Again in this spring, when the farmers were all busy, ploughing,
John Bright took his little brother and went hunting by moonlight in Cedar Creek Bottom-Turkey
hunting. Having killed one, he was about to start home, when right beneath him on
the road, he discovered a fresh moccasin track. He then hurried in order to reach
home, and give the alarm. Hearing his horse bell he decided to drive his horses on home before
him. Hearing a noise, and looking back he saw three Indians coming right on him.
Turning, he fired upon them, and saw they were trying to cut him off from home. The little
boy held on to the turkey, and they reached home in safety. Mr. Bright took a light and found
an abundance of blood, which led him to suppose he had wounded an Indian. He then
mounted his horse and notified the neighbors. The men who came to call me frightened them
away from our premises. Just as having taken down the fence, they were going to take our
horses. Frequently when they could not get a stable open, they would kill a horse with lances
through the cracks. I know of one case where a horse was hobbled
with a puzzle hobble or a hobble that could be taken off only by those who understood it.
The thieves not being able to unfasten the hobble, killed the horse and cut off his feet in
order to secure the hobbles for themselves. About sun up next morning William Barton, john
Bright and myself were trailing the Indians. For three miles, at every step along the trail
was a large drop of blood, and here under a live oak tree from buck skin strings and other
signs, we saw that they had dressed a wound. Part of the crowd evidently succeeded in
getting horses, for the wounded man had been put on a horse, and carried off, and all along the
blood drop marked the trail. Which we followed six miles, then finding from all
indications that their force was entirely too strong for us we came back home. Men were too busy
and from recent experience, pursuit seemed worse than useless and so things went on. The
raids became more common as we became more careless, until they were of almost week
occurrence; and often the savages added murder to theft, so that there was no security to our
citizens or property. When I attempt to recall even the most important of these attacks, and
raids, I find it absolutely impossible to give them exactly in order as to the time of their
occurrence. Suffice to say what happened, at the same time confessing my inability to give
exact dates. I will try to recount some of the most interesting trials and persecutions
of our citizens which occurred along from 39 to 42. The Indians seemed to be vigilant, and did not
confine themselves to their raids upon our homes, but surveyors and hunters seldom,
if ever, escaped their attacks, and many entire parties were overpowered, and slain. Early in
1839, (I think, it was) a Mr. Webster, who was living in the Hornsby neighborhood,
decided to move to his headright league of land lying upon the North Gabriel. Dr. John
Harvey, the land surveyor, colle4ctged fourteen men to accompany him in surveying and laying off
adjacent land. The men were to accompany Mr. Webster and board with his family while
surveying. Mr. Harvey, having some business to detain him, the company of men, with the
family started on several days in advance of him. When they were in only a few miles of their
destination, they were attacked by a large band of Comanche, who were however
repulsed after a considerable fight, without loss of life to the surveying party, though one or
two were wounded. They immediately retreated to Brush, determining to wend their
way back to the settlements, after encountering a force so strong - entirely too strong for
their small number. Anticipating an attack from Indians, that
night, before retiring they took every precaution to be ready, barricading or fortifying
themselves behind their wagons. Sure enough, early next morning, a little
before sunrise, the savages reinforced and protected on all sides by timber attacked them. The
fate of the little party was of course sealed, in the face of such odds but
from all the signs left afterward, they made a brave and desperate fight for their lives.
Arrow spikes and bullets had almost riddled the wheel spokes and tongues of the
wagons, and it seemed that at last the fight was hand to hand, for guns broken and
lying around had evidently been used as clubs in the terrible struggle. It was soon
over however and in a few days, Mr. Harvey knowing nothing of the fate of his party, went
on to join them at Mr. Webster's and came upon their skeletons lying in a circle of thirty
feet around the wagons. Returning in haste and making report, Burleson immediately
raised fifty or sixty men and hurried to the scene of carnage. A strange, unreal
sight of horror met our eyes. Only fleshless bones scattered around remained of coffin,
box, or even plank, we collected them into an old crate, which was found near and buried
them. Only one skeleton could be recognized, that of one Mr. Hicks, who had his leg broken in
the battle of Anahuac, in 1834. We supposed Mrs. Webster and little girl had
shared the terrible fate of the band, though could find no skeletons, which we could
possibly suppose where theirs, and we afterwards learned that the Indians had carried them off into
captivity. Having buried the bones of the slaughtered band, we followed the Indian
trail some miles, and seeing nothing to encourage us in pursuit, we finally came home unsuccessful
as usual. The Comanche held Mrs. Webster and child, until the well known treaty of 1840 when they sent word into San Antonio, to Captain Karnes, that they
wished to make peace with the whites, and proposed coming in to make or agree upon terms
of reconciliation, to which the whites agreed, at the same time bidding them bring with
them all captive whites in their possession. On the 19th of March, about twelve Chiefs came
into the town, bringing only one white captive, a Miss Lockhart, and a few Mexicans.
They were immediately shown into the building then used as a courthouse, where
commissioners, with an Interpreter appointed by President Lamar, awaited them. Upon
being asked why they did not bring in all of their captives, the Indians answered defiantly that
these were all they held. In the mean time a company of Texas Rangers, were
near, in readiness for any treachery or violence. Captain Howard was in the building noting
all the proceedings. The Interpreter was told to inform them that they would be
held as hostages until the other prisoners were brought in. He refused to tell them, warning
the commissioners insisted however and placing himself near the door, he told them and
left. The chiefs immediately drew their bows and knives, and a general fight ensued, in
which the Indian women even participated. Lieutenant Dunnington
was killed by a squaw, who shot an arrow through his body. Seven Texans were killed and eight wounded.
All the warriors nearly, were killed, but a few were spared, who agreed to return to their homes
and bring more prisoners. One chief ran into a house and had to be burned out. Mrs.
Webster and child being still captive, heard of the proposed treaty, and exchange of
prisoners, and of course hoped for deliverance. But knowing finally of the departure of the
chiefs with Miss Lockhart, she, (Mrs. Webster) determined to try to make her escape, and in a
few days after their departure left her child and fled for San Antonio. Having no
knowledge of the country, she depended entirely upon following the trail of the chiefs. As a few
warriors, who were spared to bring in other prisoners were going out of San Antonio,
she was going in, but seeing them in time, she hid until they had passed, and then made her
way to her friends. When she reached San Antonio, among the captive Indians, she
met an old squaw, who had been most cruel to her in captivity, but who now that their
fortunes were reversed, pretended to be delighted to see her and was mot demonstrative in her
expressions of love. Mrs. Webster could not patiently submit to her caresses and
gathering a stick made her keep at a respectful distance. About now came on what is known as the
"Cordova War" or the union of Mexican and Indian forces against Texas, which at one time threatened
serious trouble. The Indians were very bad and excitement arose to the greatest
height, when at length a plain double file trail through our country, was found by some of our
citizens. Burleson soon had a company of men ready for action. The cause or source of
the trail was not an Indian army however as we supposed, but marked the march of
Cordova from Natchitoches, with his force of Mexicans, Negroes, and Biloxi Indians on his way to
Mexico. He had only one Texan, or American citizen in his band, who deserted and turned
informer, coming to Burleson to make report. Gen. Burleson took the informer as guide, and
about sixty men made prompt and speedy pursuit. Away up on the Guadalupe one evening we discovered
form various signs that we were getting very near. Dr. Fenters,
an enthusiastic Texan instructed the informer to point out Cordova to him as soon as they should come in sight,
saying that he intended to kill him first and foremost. Six miles from Seguin, we overtook
them, and they immediately halted and formed line of battle. Cordova was pointed out,
just as they turned for retreat. Dr. Fenters, aiming at him fired, and said he wounded him
in the arm for he saw it fall limp at his side, but some contended that he was not
touched. There was a running fight for four or
five miles, Cordova losing several Indians, negros and a few Mexicans, but Burleson did not lose one of his force. Cordova escaped into
Mexico with a considerable little company, which he held throughout the Mexican War,
commanding it with Gen. Woll. He was killed
in the battle of Salow
and those who saw his body, said that Fenters was
right - his arm had been broken by a rifle ball. This was the
beginning and end of all united work against Texas by Mexicans and Indians in league.
The Indians however made no pause in their stealing among and around our settlers on the
Colorado. Upon one raid, they stole a well known gray horse, a fine and valuable animal belonging
to Mr. Manlove.
Their visits were now so frequent, that it became a prevalent opinion that they were stopping or lying around somewhere near
- probably on Brushy Creek. A small squad of eight whites and three Tonkawas
went out to reconnoiter or investigate. They
camped on Wilbarger Creek, in open prairie,
and early next morning two, Waco Indians rode unexpectedly in sight. The Tonkawas were considerably excited, and their rushing around, for guns etc,
caused the Wacos to turn and run - Horses were
saddled, and just as the men were mounting to pursue them, one of
them came riding back, to meet them. Having seen the red men they had evidently
concluded that they were members of some friendly tribe. He was riding Mr. Manlove's
fine gray horse, and upon coming near enough to see that most of our party were whites, he
retreated in double quick time. There was a terrible race for five or six miles, when
all the horses began to fail. The Indian too was fast losing ground from some cause, and
at length dismounting, left his horse and took refuge in a little creek in the
Prairie, one of our Tonkawas, who was foremost in the race, coming along on a broken down
horse, mounted the fine gray horse which had rested a little spell, and was off in hot
pursuit. He soon overtook the Indian, who fought desperately. Arrows flew thick and fast and
at last the Waco fell still he did not give up-and had his bow ready to shoot
whoever would first approach him. The Tonkawas crawled cautiously up in shooting distance, killed
him, cut his throat and scalped him. This Waco warrior was one of the greatest
natural curiosities ever seen. He had white specks or spots all over his skin like a fawn.
Nothing was ever seen of the other Indian and supposing he would notify and collect
others, our men came home, but this time brought the horse with them. An amusing little
incident occurred in this connection though not very amusing to those most intimately
involved. A man by the name of Walker Wilson lived in an upper settlement on what is called Mayhar's Creek, and owned a number of very fine cows, in which his wife took special pride.
Regularly at nightfall, one could see Mrs. Wilson with her little Negro girl,
"Sook" going with buckets to milk. One evening the cows were unusually late coming home, and they were
milking sometime after dark. All had been milked but one, a favorite, called
"Brownie" and "Sook" was sent to find and bring her up. Coming back without success, Mrs. Wilson
concluded to look around for "Brownie" a little herself. Seeing a dark object moving along hear her,
and supposing it to be the missing cow, she called out, -- "Why here's
"Brownie," Sook I knew you never half looked!" Then stepping round she said "Ho
Brownie!" when what was her surprise and terror to see the supposed cow straighten up into an Indian, with a low
grunt. Almost crazy the old lady ran for the house, screaming "Indians
Wilson!" Jesus!" As the dairy another jumped out as she ran
by. These, evidently, only wanted to steal, for they ran off without harming anyone. In one
of their raids they stole some horses belonging to a small company of Delaware Indians, who
were encamped on Cedar Creek. These Delaware's were friendly and honorable, and
frequently camped in the settlements, hunting and trading with the whites. They even fought in
the Texas army against Mexico. Early next morning after the theft of the horses, their
chief "Captain Bob" with two others of their tribe, and Mike Sessum, a
white man, started in pursuit of the thieves. The trail was a very plain one, as they had come in immediately
after a heavy rain. They over took the, seven or eight Caddo's at Onion Creek, which was
very high. Having already swam the horses across, they were making a raft to cross their bows,
arrows, guns and blankets. Upon seeing Captain Bob's small force, they plunged
into the creek, leaving everything behind them. One of them got tangled in a vine, on
the opposite bank, and Mr. Sessum raised his gun to fire at him, but "Captain
Bob" more versed in such matters, stopped him saying, he thought it possible to get the stolen horses
by milder measures, where as one shot would cause to run. He then called to them and told
them, they had stolen Indian horses, and must bring them back. Seeing he was a red
man they paused and listened to him. He bade them come over, bring his horses and get their
weapons and blankets which they had left, assuring them that in so doing they should not be
hurt. They finally consented, and brought over all the stolen horses except one, which
they declared was no Indian's horse, for they knew, they took him "right at white
man's door." They would not be persuaded to restore this one. Taking a careful survey of
Captain Bob's party, they looked upon Mr. Sessum with undisguised mistrust and suspicion, and
"That is a white man." The chief assured them that he was a half breed Deleware, who lived with them and as Mr. Sessum was dressed like the Delewares,
they finally accepted him as an Indian, though they never forgot to be on the alert. They first crossed
over all their luggage, and then forming a circle, the pipe of peace was passed
around, and while the smoke curled gracefully above their heads, a small band of white rode
in sight. Instantly they sprang into the creek and made their escape
carrying that "white man's horse" with them. Not long after this old Colonel Gamble and
Mr. L. C. Cunningham of Bastrop hearing that Pecan mast was very abundant went out on
the San Marcos, to investigate the matter, intending to hire hands and go into the Pecan
trade if the crop was sufficient to justify them in the undertaking. On their homeward
ride they were in thirty or forty steps of a bluff on the banks of the Blanco River, when a
party of Indians suddenly fired upon them. Two bullets pierced or went through the lapelle of Gamble's coat, and an arrow glanced across Cunningham's back, but they escaped
unhurt, and came on home reporting their narrow escape.-Again no pursuit, and of course their
attacks were continued. A small party of travelers coming in from San Antonio
soon after this were horrified to find a body of a man MR. Robinson, lying right on the
roadside, on Cedar Creek, about fifteen miles from Bastrop. He had evidently just been
killed and scalped, for his blood still flowed, warm and red, when they found him. Besides
deeds of murder and theft, many attempts were made upon the lives of our citizens which
resulted only in a race for life. |
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