Recollections of Early Texas (11 page)

It was soon over, though, and in a few days Harvey, knowing nothing of the fate of his party, went on to join them at Webster's, and came upon their skeletons lying in a circle of thirty feet around the wagons. He returned in haste and made the 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 a brave and courageous band of men. In absence of coffin, box, or even plank, we collected them into an
old crate,
which was found nearby, 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 1835.

We supposed Mrs. Webster and her little girl had shared the terrible fate of the band, though we could find no skeletons which we could possibly suppose were theirs, and we afterward 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.
¹

The Comanches held Mrs. Webster and her child until the well-known Treaty of 1840, when they sent word into San Antonio to Captain [Henry Wax] Karnes that they wished to make peace with the whites, and proposed to come in to make or agree upon terms of reconciliation, to which the whites agreed, at the same time bidding them to bring with them all captive whites in their possession.

On the 19th of March about twelve chiefs came into town, bringing only one white captive, a Miss [Matilda] Lockhart, and a few Mexicans. They were immediately shown into the building then used as the 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 had. In the meantime, a company of Texas Rangers were near, in readiness for any treachery or violence.
Captain [George T.] 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 that the Comanches would certainly fight. The commissioners insisted, however, and placing himself near the door, he told them and left.

The chiefs instantly drew their bows and knives, and a general fight ensued, in which the Indian women even participated.
²
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 her 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, Mrs. Webster determined to try to make her escape, and 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 the 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, she met among the captive Indians an old squaw who had been most cruel to her in captivity, but who now that the fortunes were reversed, pretended to be delighted to see her and was most 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 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 rose 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 Nacogdoches with his force of Mexicans, Negroes, and Biloxi Indians on his way to Mexico. He had only one Texan in his band, who deserted and turned informer, coming to Burleson to make report.
³
General Burleson took the informer as a guide, and about sixty men made prompt and speedy pursuit.

Away up on the Guadalupe one evening we discovered from various signs that we were getting very near. Dr. [James] Fentress,* an enthusiastic Texan, instructed the in
former to point out Cordova to him as they came 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 a line of battle. Cordova was pointed out, just as they turned for retreat. Dr. Fentress, 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, Negroes, 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 during the Mexican invasion of 1842, commanding it with General Adrian Woll. He was killed in the Battle of Salado, and those who saw his body said that Fentress was right—his arm had been broken by a rifle ball. This was the beginning and end of all united work against the Republic of Texas by Mexicans and Indians
in league.
The Indians, however, made no pause in their stealing among and around our settlers on the Colorado.

During one raid they stole a well-known gray horse, a fine and valuable animal belonging to Bat Manlove. Their visits were now so frequent that it became a prevalent opinion that they were stopping or camping 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 the next morning two Waco Indians rode unexpectedly in sight. The Tonkawas were considerably excited. Their rushing around for guns and weapons caused the Wacoes to turn and run—horses were saddled and just as the men were mounting to pursue them, one came riding back. Having seen the red men, they had evidently concluded that they were members of some friendly tribe. The Indian was riding Mr. Manlove's fine gray horse, so when he came 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, after which all our horses began to fall. The Indian, too, was fast losing ground from some cause, and finally dismounted and left his horse and took refuge in a little creek in the prairie. One of our Tonkawas, who was foremost in the race, jumped off his horse and mounted the fine gray horse, which had rested a little spell, and was off in hot pursuit. He soon overtook the Waco, who fought desperately. Arrows flew thick and fast and at last the Waco fell. Still he did not give up; he had his bow ready to shoot whoever would first approach him. The Tonkawa crawled cautiously up in shooting distance, then killed him, cut his throat, and scalped him. This warrior was one of the greatest natural curiosities I have ever seen. He had white specks or spots all over his skin, like a fawn.

Nothing was ever seen of the other Indian and we supposed he would notify and collect others, so 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 Mayhard Creek. He 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 of milk. One evening the cows were unusually late coming home, and the two women were milking for some time after dark. All had been milked but one, a favorite called Brownie. Sook was sent to find and bring her to the dairy, but she came back without success. Mrs. Wilson herself then concluded to look around for Brownie a little. Seeing a dark object moving along near her and supposing it to be the missing cow, she called out, “Why there's Brownie. Sook, I knew you never
half looked!” Then stepping around, she said, “Ho, Brownie!” when to her surprise and terror she saw the supposed cow straighten up into an Indian. Almost crazy, the old lady ran for the house screaming, “Indians! Wilson! Jesus!” At 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 Delawares were friendly and honorable. They frequently camped in the settlements, hunting and trading with the whites. They even fought in the Texas army against Mexico.

Early on the morning after the theft of the horses, their chief, “Captain Bob,”
⁴
and two others of their tribe started with Mike Sessom,* a white man, in pursuit of the thieves. The trail was a plain one, as they had made the theft immediately after a heavy rain. The thieves, seven or eight Caddoes, were overtaken at Onion Creek, which was then very high. Having already swum the horses across, the thieves 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 Sessom raised his gun to fire at him, but Captain Bob, who was more versed in such matters, stopped him, saying that he thought it possible to get the stolen horses by milder measures, whereas one shot would cause them 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 the horses, and get their
weapons and blankets which they had left. He assured them that in so doing they would not be hurt.

They finally consented and brought over all the stolen horses except one, which they declared was no Indian 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. Sessom with undisguised mistrust and suspicion and said, “That is a white man.” The chief assured them that he was a half-breed Delaware who lived with them, and since Sessom was dressed like the Delawares, 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 formed a circle and passed the pipe of peace around. While the smoke curled gracefully above their heads a small band of whites rode in sight. Instantly they sprang into the creek and made their escape, taking the “white man's horse” with them.

Not long after this old Colonel Gamble and L. C. [Leander Calvin] Cunningham* of Bastrop, hearing that pecan mast was very abundant, went out along the San Marcos River 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 within 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 the lapel 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, the attacks continued.

A small party of travelers who came in from San Antonio soon after this were horrified to find the body of a Mr. Robinson lying right on the roadside along Cedar Creek, about fifteen miles from Bastrop. He had evidently
just
been
killed and scalped, for his blood was still flowing, 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. James Henderson formed a surveying party, which had commenced work on the Blanco River. We generally left a man to stand guard at camp while we surveyed, and it was Henderson's turn. It was a lonely, as well as dangerous post of duty. Seeing a horse raise his head as if he saw something, Henderson climbed a tree to take a good look around. Imagine his surprise and alarm when he saw about thirty Indians coming. They must have seen the smoke of the campfire. Leaning down on their horses, they evidently intended to surprise the campers. There was no time for pause or deliberation, so springing bareback on the nearest horse he broke for the surveyors with the Indians right behind him. He struck his friends exactly and after a few shots the Indians were repulsed, but the horsemen still lingered near enough to keep our attention and cause uneasiness. One of our men happened to look behind and saw an Indian in the act of firing upon us. While a few warriors had been riding around at our front, a few had slipped around to our back on foot, and in a few more minutes the surveyors and party would have perished as did the Webster party. Seeing them in time, however, a few shots dispersed them, though they robbed the camps and stole the horses as they fled. Again no pursuit.

Three men went out on Brushy from Bastrop on a bear hunt. Two of them took the dogs and went on foot into a thicket, while Claiborne Osborn,* not much more than a mere boy, was left nearby with the horses. While sitting there alone on his horse he was suddenly fired upon by Indians. No shot took effect, but they ran up, knocked him off his horse, and despite his struggles, scalped him. Then he
succeeded in pulling away from them and reached his friends, who had heard the shots and were coming to his aid.
Again,
no pursuit, and they grew still bolder.

A Mr. [James] Campbell* from Bastrop took five or six men and went surveying out on the Guadalupe. In a short time William S. Wallace* raised a larger company and went to the same section for the same purpose. He struck their work and traveled on, intent upon getting above them or coming up with them, before commencing work. Only a short distance up the river, he found them all dead. They appeared to have camped a day or two, for they had cut a bee tree. Destitute of coffin, box, plank, or tool, Wallace and his men put the bodies into the stump of this bee tree, which was hollow. Not intimidated by the awful fate of these their predecessors, and having a force of about eighteen men, they went on to their work. After surveying a week or two, however, the signs of Indians became so frequent—once or twice Indians were even seen prowling around—that Wallace prudently came home with his company, warned by the horrible death of Campbell's party. Again no investigation or pursuit.