William E. Smith
Corsicana, Texas
Navarro County |
Writers
Project
Dist. #8 |
Nov.
22, 1936 |
Life of J. F. Smith.
To begin with my name is John Franklin Smith, Known to old
settlers as Frank Smith. I was born September 19, 1852 in Bates
County, Missouri at the town of Pleasant Gap. My father was Joe
Smith, he moved from Kentucky to Northeastern Missouri along
with his father and other relatives, but did not like this part
of the country so after years of residence here he moved to
Southwestern Missouri where I was born. There was thirteen
children in our family, seven boys and six girls, there was
three younger than I, two boys which were twins were the
youngest and a girl which was between them and myself.
The first I can remember of my Missouri home, was the
hauling of lumber and brick from Sedalia, Missouri to build our
house and barn. At that time we lived in a log house with stick
and dirt chimney and board shingles. The two front rooms had a
large hallway between them with a dirt chimney at each end of
the room. My father was like all other Southern farmers, having
a number of slaves, counting children and all they numbered over
a hundred, some of them cost him $1500. He never sold a mother
from her children, nor sold any children from their parents. He
once bought a family for $3000. He sent some of the negro men to
Sedalia with wagons and teams of [unreadable] mules to haul the
finish lumber and brick back to Pleasant Gap to build our house
and barn. The chimneys and the foundation of the barn and house
were of brick, the frame work of the house and barn was of
native lumber coming from my father's saw mill located on his
plantation on the Merrizene River. My father built a large
twelve room house, southern colonial style home, about a quarter
of a mile from the town of Pleasant Gap, facing the town at the
end of Main street. The front yard was large covering about two
or three acres with large post oak trees scattered about for
shade. He also had a plank fence in front with a platform next
to the road and steps on the side to the house. Hitch post were
on the side to the road. Plat form at one side was low enough
for visitors to drive up in coach or buggy and step out on plat
form, still at another place ladies could ride up on horse back
to this part and step off and come down the steps into the yard.
All ladies in those days rode in sidesaddles when riding a
horse, and they could ride as fast as and as far as the men.
The house we lived in up to the war, was a two story house
with a large front porch, with large round columns that reached
to the roof of the second story. There were two bedrooms down
stairs, the other being up stairs. Our living room was a large
room covering about one fourth of the first floor. At one end of
it was a large brick fireplace large enough to burn cord wood in
it. It would take two slaves to put a backlog in it, and sure
did throw out the heat. The dining room and kitchen was in back
of this. We had a large long table in the dining room, I have
seen as many as thirty people eat at this table at one time. My
father never turned any traveler away from his home, he would
always give them lodging and feed for their stock at no charge.
Behind the house was the cook and servant house and the
smokehouse where we kept all the meat. This meat and lard was
issued to the slaves once a week. I have seen the slaves kill as
many as fifty hogs at one time, all the killing, cleaning and
dressing was done all in one day, the next day lard was made and
the packing of the meat. The meat box was built in the meat
house and it was large enough for a man to get in and walk
around. Behind this was the barn, which was off quite apiece. It
was large enough to hold over a thousand bushels of corn and
plenty of hay to feed over two hundred head of stock, with
stalls for twenty two teams of mules and sheds for the balance
and plenty of sheds for the milk cows. Behind the barn was a
plank lot where these hogs were called up and fed. We always fed
them a little to keep them coming up so we could mark the young
pigs, as the hogs ran out the year round. While my father had
his entire twenty seven hundred acres fenced off with plank,
which came from the sawmill. All the post were sawed square at
both ends and the same length and were put in the ground at the
same depth and all the boards were spaced alike around the
fields and pasture. To the west of the barn about a hundred
yards were the slave quarters, with two rows of houses facing
each other with a wide street between them. All these houses
were built from native lumber, with stick and dirt chimneys. A
woodpile was behind each house for them. Our wood was stacked in
the North east corner of our back yard. A pile was kept there in
the winter larger than an ordinary house for our use. Our lay
North, East and West from our house with most of the farming
land to the North and East, running back down in the bottom.
This land was planted in corn, cotton, hay, watermelons, garden
vegetables and a large field of beans, peas and potatoes. The
corn was check rowed and planted by hand, by doing this it could
be plowed in each direction, this would down hoeing. Cotton was
planted like it always is, to be chopped and hoed and hoed
again. The garden was a large garden worked by the slaves, also
for the use of us all but not to be wasted. Any slave caught
wasting anything had to do without his next issue of the
particular thing he was caught wasting.
All slaves were allowed to carry watermelons from the
patch to the house anytime but were not allowed to burst one in
the patch as the birds would take to them and ruin the patch. I
have seen little negroes with melon juice all over their face
and the front of their clothes many times and still eating
melons.
The peas and beans were planted in large patches or in a
sufficient amount so as to be picked when ripe and piled in a
large room in the barn on a plank floor and then thrashed them
out of the hulls with a brushy limb from a small tree or let the
slaves tramp them out. Then they were taken outside and poured
from a tub or bucked to another, holding the basket high while
pouring, letting the wind blow the chaff and broken hulls out of
the beans and peas, then they were ready to be cooked. This was
done each month or week as they were needed. However the entire
field was picked and stored away, peas and beans being
separated. The potatoes, cabbage and turnips were harvested and
put in long ricks or piles and logs split and laid against a
ridge pole at the top like a house top and corn stalks placed
over the cracks and then dirt piled over this fairly deep, just
deep enough to shed water and to keep the vegetables from
freezing in the winter, this dirt had to built up after each
rain so the vegetables would not get wet, this would keep them
all winter. We had to raise what we eat and eat what we raised,
as we could not get fresh vegetables from south Texas and other
places the year round like we can now, especially when one man
had to look out for over one hundred people. We always had fresh
meat of some kind, wild turkeys were plentiful. We had lots of
deer meat and plenty of small game. Fish was plentiful, we
didn't eat small fish like we do now and call them nice fish.
We raised lots of cotton that was planted, plowed, picked
and ginned on the same plantation. The cotton was picked in
small baskets and emptied into the larger baskets and weighed.
The slaves could pick as much cotton in those baskets as they
can in sacks now.
We had an old slave named Remus that always led the slaves
to work. His job was to ring the bell every morning at four
o'clock for all the slaves to get up, the men to feed, while the
women got breakfast. We all got up at the same time, the men
would go on to work after breakfast and the women that did not
have nursing babies were to come in as soon as their house was
cleaned and dinner cooked. The slave women that had nursing
babies were to spin, weave and make the cloth for their clothes
and were to make most of their clothes, or if they had plenty of
clothes or clothes made, they would go to the field still later
then the other women, but my father mostly found plenty of work
at the house or close by for them so they could be near their
babies. My father always had plenty of food for the slaves as a
well fed negro could do plenty of work and one that could do
lots of work would always bring a good price when sold. It was
also Remus's job to issue rations each Saturday evening, to
every family, enough to run them a week, this was done according
to the size of the family, and size of children in the family.
Father wanted them to have plenty to eat but nothing to waste.
We never worked on Saturday evenings, or Thanksgiving,
Christmas, Fourth of July, but always done a good days work on
New Years Day, and I have followed my Father's ruling up to the
present time, do something on New Years day and you will be busy
all the year. For all this extra work Father gave Remus shoes
from the store and factory made tobacco, a hat for dress wear,
and pants and shirts from the store. The others wore clothes
made on the plantation, except servants that waited on us and
special visitors. Then they wore clothes that came from the
store or made from cloth that came from the store. The store was
up in town on the main street and my father hired three clerks
in it besides himself and the other older boys who worked in
there with him. He handled groceries, clothes, medicines and
what farm tools that was bought in those days, also buggies,
surreys and wagons. He bought us a fine stage while he was in
business there. We had a span of fine mares that he brought from
Kentucky with him that we worked to it when he first bought it
and he finally hooked a span of young mares from the old mares
to it, and they sure could carry you down the road holding their
heads high like they had plenty of pride, and they did, for they
were thorough bred. We had a young negro slave named Charley
that cared for the whole stock and he knew his business about
training these thoroughbreds. We had about thirty head of these
Kentucky thoroughbreds when the war broke out.
About 2:30 o'clock one evening in 1861, my father saw the
Jayhawkers coming down the road on horses and he could tell by
the number and the way they were riding that they were the
Yankees, so he told the three clerks to hurry out and go home
and he also told my older brothers to go home and tell my mother
that he would come on, so he locked the store and brought all
his money home in a little sack. There was a little over three
thousand dollars in that sack that he kept hid around in the
store and about the time he got home, the Jayhawkers rode in the
Main street and went to stealing and plundering at once. They
robbed all the stores and loaded up what they wanted in those
big Government wagons and they set fire to the buildings. Then
they started to plundering into everything. About this time two
of my cousins, Ben and Tommie Dyer, who were twins and about
sixteen years old had heard about the Jayhawkers coming in and
had started home. Both were horseback and had been to see one of
their cousins and when they got to where they could see them,
they split up and made a run for home as their mother was a
widow. Ben run his horse in the back way, put his horse in a
stall and run in the back door of the house but Tommie tried to
go around our burning store and in from the other side but some
of the Jayhawkers started chasing him on horses and when he got
behind our store his horse stumbled and fell, falling on one of
his legs, he got his leg from under the horse and got up and was
bending over when they rode up and shot fourteen balls into his
body. His mother saw him running from the Jayhawkers, but she
never had seen Ben and she thought the Jayhawkers had already
killed Ben and was chasing Tommie to kill him, she ran out of
the house screaming but she was too late, they would have killed
him anyway if she had gotten there first, they were just that
dirty. When she got to where he lay she fell down over him
crying and telling them they had killed her boys and they
laughed in her face. The Captain come up and she asked him to
have some of the men carry her boy about one block to her house,
and he told them to carry him home, so two of them grabbed a
hold of his pants legs and started to dragging him off like a
hog, and aunt Mollie begged the Captain to make them stop
dragging him so he made more men get around him and pick him up
and carry him home, so four of them got hold of him and when
they got to the house they dumped him in the front door on the
floor, and if that house still stands that boy's blood is still
on the floor, it couldn't be washed up. After the Jayhawkers
left the house, Ben run up to the gunrack to get his father's
gun, intending to shoot into the Jayhawkers, when aunt Mollie
heard Ben cross the room she looked up expecting to see some of
them sneak up on her back to kill her and she said she was so
overjoyed to see him alive and run to him and persuaded him not
to shoot any of them. He later joined the Southern army and went
through the war without a scratch. He said before he went into
the army that he was going to kill a dozen Yankees for every
ball shot into his brother's body, when the war was over he said
he got part of them. These Jayhawkers called themselves
Homegaurds, but they didn't know what Homegaurds were, we called
them Jayhawkers. They came on down to the house, rode up in
front and called out. My father went out, my mother followed
him, then all of us children followed her and crowded around
them. I can remember as well as if it happened yesterday, one of
the men spread his arms out and said stand back men, I'll kill
the rascal and raised his gun to shoot when we heard a shout and
looked up the road to see what it was and saw Judge Myers coming
as fast as his horse could run, shouting as loud as he could.
The man dropped his gun to side, when Judge Myers rode up he was
shaking his head and his eyes were blazing fire. He turned
around in his saddle and pointed back towards town and said you
men get out of here and do it damn quick. (Judge Myers was a
Northern man but he was of my father's best friends.) All of the
Jayhawkers turned around a sulked off like a whipped dog.
When the men all left
Judge Myers came up to my father and put his hand on his
shoulder and said "Joe you have got to get out of here before
you get killed. Now I will escort you to Clinton and you and
your family can take the train and go further South where you
will be safe. My father told him
[a missing
word or two here]
______ man, a slave owner and that he had already sent all but a
very few of his slaves South so they could be taken care of,
that he could not desert the people who had confidence in him at
a time like that, he would have to shoulder his gun and do his
bit to win the war. That it was lawful to buy slaves and use
them and when he first began business and in fact he had bought
some of his slaves from Northern speculators, that the
Government tolerated that, and now since the southern farmers
had their money invested in slaves they wanted them freed. He
also thanked Judge Myers for saving his life but under the
existing circumstances he would be forced to stay and fight for
his rights. Judge Myers begged him further to leave but he still
refused. My father's parting words to the Judge was that he was
glad to have such a man as he for a friend and although they
were separated in opinion and would probably fight in battles
against each other if the war went that far, but he would always
consider him as his friend and would have a friendly feeling for
him.
After this my father, brothers Will, Clem and Joe, two
cousins and three brother-in-laws and three uncles went to war
leaving us there with the few slaves to take care of the
plantation. That was the last time I ever saw my father, brother
Will, one of my cousins and one of my brother-in-laws and one
uncle. My brother Will, brother-in-law and cousin was killed in
the battle at Lone Jack, Missouri. They were buried some time
before we knew they were killed. My father, brother Joe and
Clem, one brother-in-law and uncle got separated from the others
and did not know of the tragedy for some time. Later that year
my father was wounded and and an uncle killed at Mansfield,
Missouri. That was the last raid General Price made through
there. A lady living there by the name of Lindsay that knew our
family had him taken to her house. Her husband was also fighting
for the south and was in another part of the state at that time.
She left father with her grown daughters and a good doctor and
rode sixty eight miles horseback to Pleasant Gap to notify us of
father being wounded. Mother left us smaller children to the
care of the older children and what few slave was left and she
and Mrs. Lindsay taken the train back to Mansfield, leaving her
horse with us. A few days after Mother got there two of fathers
sisters and nephews came and stayed until after he died. My
father got better after mother came and the doctor told her he
thought he was out of danger, so father sent her back home to
get the children and return to Mansfield to stay until he got
well enough to travel, then we would go to Texas until the war
was over, but he died and was buried before mother could come
back and get us children and get back to him, some complications
set up that the doctor could not control after mother left. All
of we children were very eager to get to our father to see him
again but when we got there and was greeted with the sad news
there wasn't anything there for us so we returned to Pleasant
Gap.
The town of Pleasant Gap Missouri lay in a small neck of
timber or a gap between two large strips of timber and was named
so.
After we returned home, mother searched for all the
valuable papers and several thousand dollars that my father had
buried soon after the store was burned. She thought she knew
about where he buried them but we never found them. She intended
to ask him when she went to him when he was wounded but he got
better and was getting so much better she thought she better let
him get them himself, if she began digging around and never
found them and was seen, someone else might get them before we
returned. One of my older sisters also buried $500. that was
never found.
In 1862 my brother-in-law who was a druggist at Pleasant
Gap and also a Northern sympathizer but not a helper, persuaded
my mother to let him take all her yearling mules to the county
seat and sell them before there was another raid through there
and they were taken. Well he taken them up there and brought
mother back only $400. Said that he had that in his shoes and
the balance in his coat and pants pockets and when coming back
home he was robbed by some bushwhackers and all taken off of him
except what he had in his shoes but we never had any confidence
in what he told us.
Some of our work stock was stole from time to time but in
the winter of 1862 the Jayhawkers came through again looking for
anything they could steal and anything dirty they could do.
During this time an old man about 60 years old had gotten sick
and mother and us children had moved him to our home as his
house was cold and they were afraid he might take pneumonia and
his wife was old and could not get around very well to take care
of him and it was lots of trouble for us to go back and forth so
we moved him to our place.
One day the Jayhawkers made another raid through there.
About sixty came to our house and ordered diner for them all and
told us to be sure there was plenty of ham. Mother, the girls
and the old slaves began getting their dinner. While they were
getting their dinner those men were plundering about the house
stealing quilts and tying them up behind their horses. They were
called in for dinner and sat down and eat all they could hold,
got up from the table and began plundering again and spitting
all over the house and started to leave when my mother
complained to the Captain that his men had stole all her quilts.
He asked her if she could identify any of them and she pointed
out about thirty of them. He looked at her and then turned to an
old negro slave woman and asked her if my mother was telling the
truth. She said "Yes suh." He then told her to identify all the
quilts and she said "Ah sho can, ah been here too long and ah
has help to make every one of dem," and she pointed out thirty
eight of them and the Captain made them take them all off their
saddles and pile them on the front porch. This bunch drove off
all our cattle, horses and mules. One of our old Kentucky mares
and some milk cows got away and come back home.
Not long after this another raid was made, one of the men
in this bunch was named Sissin who had helped build our house.
They came in and ordered a meal cooked for them, after they had
eaten all the wanted they began plundering. One of the men, a
young man walked up to the head of the old sick man's bed and
said "I believe I will kill the old devil, done lived too long
now." He raised his gun and shot him in the head, his brains
were scattered all over the head of the bed and wall. I
witnessed that with my own eyes. When he walked away he reloaded
his gun and made the remark, "I better reload it, I might get to
kill another dog before sundown." And when they got ready to
leave this man was on a young horse, one I guess he had stole,
and he had the stock of the gun on the toe of his shoe when his
horse shied to one side, the gun slipped of his foot, discharged
and blew his whole face away. I said I guess that is the other
dog he is going to kill. A man barked out at me that he would do
me the same way if it didn't look so bad for a man to kill a
brat. I didn't say anything back.
This band of robbers tore up every feather bed on the
place and scattered the feathers over the room and then poured
several barrels of sorghum molasses over them and then set it
ablaze. They burned the house but did not burn the slave houses
or the barn. They then loaded up about fifty of those large
government wagons with corn and hauled that away and also taken
every chicken they could catch and all the meat we had. This
band of robbers also burned the courthouse at the county seat.
We lived a few days in some of the slave houses, then we
hooked up this old Kentucky mare, old Julia by name and two milk
cows to two sleds, put our few belongings on them and left
Southeast Missouri for Northeast Missouri to my grandfather's in
Henry county. This was a long hard journey for a woman and
children through territory where there was lots of bushwhackers.
There were plenty of them in this part of the country and it had
been raided and raided. There wasn't much left to eat and we
couldn't take much with us. We traveled quite a bit by moonlight
and grazed the stock in the daytime, and gathered what we could
to eat for ourselves. We finally made the trip to my
grandfather's but we were scared all the time we would get our
stock taken away from us. Mother taken over $3000. in money
through with her, it was in a little square tin box painted
green,. I will never forget what that little box looked like for
we guarded it close.
We lived for a time with my grandfather in Henry county
then moved to mexico Missouri. Here another one of my brothers,
Perry joined the Southern forces. He was just sixteen years old
then and was the only boy left older than I, and I was too young
to go, so it left all the shifting for the family on my
shoulders, the other two being very small and were very little
help to me. I was only about ten or eleven years old then but I
had to get all the wood, do what farming and hunting I could but
mother would not let me get very far from the house and only for
a short time as there were bushwhackers around there who would
kill small boys just to have something to shoot at. From the
time our house was burned until after the war we had very little
flour to make biscuits. We ate mostly cornbread and if our barn
was raided we didn't know where the next cornbread was coming
from and we used parched okra and corn to make coffee, and we
could not get sugar we had to use syrup or honey to sweeten
things but with it was very few cakes we or anyone else got. Our
clothes were made at home from cloth made of cotton we raised at
home, everything we used we either had to raise it or make it,
years from then on was hard for us too.
My brothers came at different times and stayed a few days
with us each time, but they would slip in at night and stay in
the house in the daytime and slip out at night when they went
back to their forces as the Northern army had bushwhackers
watching all the time for Southern men coming in.
My brothers, uncles and cousins came to see us as often as
they could and one night one of my father's brothers and brother
Joe came home, it was a moonlight night and uncle Cave told
mother they should not have come but they were going to be moved
farther away in a few days and would not get to see them for
some time and maybe never, so he wanted to bring Joe home to see
us all before they were moved. The Union men had some spies
around and they saw them come in, so after they had eaten their
supper, which was as much as five ordinary men eats as they had
traveled only at night and hid in the thickets in the daytime
and was almost starved to death when they got home. We had
covered up all the openings and cracks so no one could slip up
and shoot them from ambush, and had all gathered around the
fireplace and had not talked thirty minutes, and we all talked
hard and fast for we wanted to know all about the war , the
battles and other relatives they could tell us about and they
wanted to know the same. Then we heard a man cry "Hello", a
man's voice from the outside. Uncle Cave called to me and Joe to
grab our guns and he got his and blew out the candle, and told
mother to go to the other room door that opened out on the same
porch where this voice came from and he told her we would be
behind her , but we would stay inside in the dark and if they
were bushwhackers they had seen us come in and if they wanted to
search the house for her to get out of the door and out of the
way and we would take care of them, if she couldn't convince
them that they were not there. They got impatient and said if we
did not come to the door we will burst it down, and mother told
them they better wait until we could get dressed, to kill time.
She wanted Uncle Cave and Joe to hide but uncle Cave said no,
that they would find them and shoot them down like dogs without
a chance, so she went to the door and opened it wide open and
asked them who they were and what they wanted. There was five of
them and and one of them spoke up and said, "We are Union men
and we have come to find the two men that come here tonight."
Mother said, "If you can find two men that come here tonight, I
would like to see them myself." The speaker said, "Now lady, two
men were seen here tonight," and he turned around and said to a
man "Joe, what time did you see them come in?" and he said,
"About ten thirty o'clock, a slender set one and a heavy set
one." The slender one was our brother Joe and the other one was
uncle Cave. He said, "Now we are going to search this house
first," and made a move towards the door, and mother said, "You
are not coming in the house, and tear up my house anymore, I
have told you they are not here, I fed those two men and they
are gone, they were strangers and were Union men. The speaker
stepped up to the door and said, "Come on men", and flung mother
to one side and said, "We are going to have those rebels." When
he said that, uncle Cave said, "Shoot boys and hit a man, don't
miss." He had already told us to let him kill the one doing the
talking and us to get the two others if they started in. He said
we won't talk anymore and we didn't. We all shot at the same
time, I don't know if I hit anyone or not but three men fell and
two men ran off and left their horses. Uncle Cave got the candle
and lit it and we looked at them. We recognized one, Joe Hughes,
who lived down near Pleasant Gap and knew all of us. He must
have been the one watching and saw Uncle Cave and Joe come in.
He was a little older than brother Joe but they hunted many
times together, but they were all Northerns. Uncle Cave told
mother to wrap them up what she could for them to eat that they
would have to clear out that night and pretty quick. So she
bundled up quite a bit of cornbread and meat in a rag, while
Uncle Cave took my gun and ammunition out to the barn and hid
it. He told mother to hide everything she could for when they
come back and search the place, they would probably burn the
house, but they wouldn't burn the barn. Uncle Cave and Joe taken
their guns and food and left in the dark, while we began hiding
feather beds and everything we could in gullies, weeds and any
safe place we could find and as far away from the house as we
could get. After all this was done which was almost ever thing
we could do without, we covered those men with sheets and went
to bed but not to sleep for we knew that some Jayhawkers would
be there anytime and we did not know what they would do. It
would not have been too hard hearted for them to set fire to the
house and burn us alive or shoot us as we run from the building,
even women and little children. They did come awhile before
daylight and began pounding on the door, and mother went to the
door and opened it and when she did they bolted in to the house
and went in all three rooms and began pulling the cover off of
us children and jerking us out of bed, there wasn't a place
large enough to put a sack of flour that they didn't look, then
they all scattered out about the place except one who guarded
us. They searched the barn and everywhere and then they come
back to the house and began on mother and us children trying to
make us tell them that uncle Cave and Joe were hid around there
and where they were hid. They slapped our jaws, pulled our hair
and ears and scuffed us about until daybreak. Then they set out
to search again, they found one of our feather beds and burned
it, then come back and se fire to the house and mother begging
not to all the time. The three dead bushwhackers were hauled
away when they first come up, where they were taken to I do not
know.
After they set fire to the
house they stayed long enough to see that we couldn't put it
out, then they taken all the meat we had and left. They didn't
burn the barn like uncle cave said, they left the feed with the
expectation of coming back and taking it later.
[The first
2 or 3 words of the next few lines are damaged and unreadable. I
will attempt to fill in with what seems likely in relation to
the context of the story.]
This is the second home of ours the Jayhawkers had burned during
the war and after this one was burned we removed most of the
corn out of the barn and chinked the cracks in the walls and
moved in there. We hid what what corn we could by digging a hole
not very far from the house and put about
[Some portion] of our corn in there and covered it up
good with the dirt and and piled brush on top of this that come
from the logs that we built our crib with and we cut some more
brush and piled up this and burned it and we cut or cleared some
timber close to it and burned more brush piles close to it. All
the dirt we put back on our corn was tramped down good and hard
by mother and us children before we burned the brush so it all
looked about alike after the brush was burned.
[End of the damaged portion] About
a week had passed when a wagon pulled up to our crib and loaded
all our corn in it except about ten bushels, like we knew they
would but we did not dig up our corn for some time. Of course we
were asked why we cleared up that little strip of ground and
mother told them she wanted it for a bean patch because it was
close to the house and that seemed to satisfy them as the other
land was all on the other side of the house. We lived there
until after the war was over and there wasn't any of the men
folks that visited us again, they visited grandpa and we got
word from them but they never came back there.
Along near the end of the war the Yankees came through and
taken all our feed and stock and drove them off but the old
Kentucky mare, Old Julia, we called her, got away and came home
for the second time since the war started and three of the milk
cows got away before they could kill them, and came home. We
were still living in the old barn that we had moved into after
they had burned our house the second time.
In the spring of 1865 we started a little crop but we were
almost afraid to do anything as we had bought and raised stock
and feed and the Northern forces would come through and take it
away from us. We were in an easy location for these raiders to
satisfy themselves as we were joined by Northern states almost
on every side but to the South and most of the fighting was to
the East. Most everything that happened in here was raiding and
plundering and the destroying of property, and killing when met
with the lest resistance and sometimes no resistance at all. We
had to raise most everything we eat as railroads were paralyzed,
every road watched. People were financially ruined and all the
people left at home were women and girls and old men too old to
fight and boys too young to travel. Men folk from fifteen to
sixty were in the Southern forces to help save what they had
spent most of their lives to accumulate.
By this time the older folks said the South could not hold
out much longer, unless they could get help. The South was out
of money, going hungry and cold and ragged, the soldiers and the
others at home were the same. I was only a small boy but I can
remember it well as if it were yesterday, the hard times that we
had, the stealing of the Yankees, the cold blood killings that I
saw with my own eyes and of others over the country that we
heard of.
We started our crop half heartedly, expecting it would be
destroyed before we could get any of it, or be taken about
harvest time. But never the less as it grew we worked harder,
and then the war was over and men and boys began drifting back
home. Some had gotten a good piece from home and other were
closer. Some were Fall getting home and had been thought to have
died from cold or hungry or to have been killed in action.
People who did not know that their relatives had been killed
expected them home at any time and maybe somebody would come in
and tell of them being killed at a certain place. I believe
there was more sorrow, crying and worry after the war than
during the war for they all hoped that their relatives would
return if they did not already know that they were dead. I heard
of some coming home as late as two years after the war. My
brother and others came in about three months after the close of
the war, but we had a father and two brothers that we would
never see again, also other relatives just because the North did
not want the South to prosper.
When Fall come we gathered our crop and began making
preparation to return to our home that our father had labored so
hard for that he might leave it to us children at his death,
never thinking he would die as he did.
We only had the old Kentucky mare and some milk cows to
move with. So about Christmas in 1865 we loaded our few
belongings in a wagon and two sleds and started back across the
state of Missouri to Pleasant Gap to our old home. The cows had
never been worked and did not know what to do, but we made the
trip back this way to Pleasant Gap. It taken us about two or
three months to make the trip. I laugh now when I think of how
we must have looked on that trip, especially when I see a
traveler in an old hack working two old poor horses or burros to
it going west to pick cotton in the Fall and I remark to myself
that we must have looked something like that.
It was cold during this trip and several snows fell and
creeks were frozen over and people had little to sell or nothing
at all and we had to depend mostly on game to eat, that is for
fresh meat. We killed hogs before we left and we taken that with
us and we bought some whole wheat flour and had plenty of meal
ground before we left and this is about all we had to eat
outside of what we killed. We fared very well in the daytime but
were handicapped when night come as we could not sleep in the
wagon and too there was danger of ill feelings between the North
and South yet, and we hoped we wouldn't meet any of these
Northern men for Joe was strong headed.
Two of the smaller children's toes and heels froze and
mother had to stop for the day, she got busy on the frozen feet
while Perry and I hunted some feed for the stock which we found
in about two hours. We paid for the feed and returned to the
camp. By this time mother had their feet thawed out, but they
bothered them ever winter after that.
The next morning we hooked up and started again and so on
each night and morning until we reached Pleasant Gap. When we
reached there the buds were swelling on the tree. It was a happy
day when we got back, we were so glad to get back home, all the
way we had planned what we were going to do when we got home,
how we would soon be back on our feet and make something again
as we once did when father was alive. Little did realize the
trouble that was in store for us when we reached Pleasant Gap.
When we reached Pleasant Gap we went straight to my aunts
home, the mother of the twins boys, one of them that fell with
his horse behind my father's burning store and was shot by the
Jayhawkers. She was as glad to see us as we were glad to see
her. Ben had come home from the war and was a big raw boned
young man.
Aunt Mollie told mother about all that had taken place
since we left. The Yankees had moved in on our place, new log
cabins had been built on it, it had all been cut up in small
farms and they were farming it. Some of the timber had been
cleared away and put into cultivating land.
We went to see about our property and found it just as
Aunt Mollie had said, then we made a trip to the county seat to
see what could be done about it, but the courthouse had been
burned and most all the records had been destroyed., we could
not find a trace of any records to our property. The deeds to
our land was burned when the Jayhawkers burned our home. Father
was not home and mother and us children were scared and we
didn't think of them. Uncle Cave told mother that the last year
before the war father had paid taxes on 2700 or 2800 acres of
land. Of course we carried this to court, we had law suit after
law suit but people would swear in any way for a little money in
those days following the war just as they do now, so we spent
what money we had left and lost all our land too. We made our
mistake when we moved away and left our home. Everyone that
moved away lost theirs, those that remained saved all or part of
their land, so we rented a little place from aunt Mollie and
moved over on it, it was across town from her place and right at
the edge of town.
We had two neighbors that were Southern people and they
really tried to help us get another start, one of them was named
Hartman and the other Hartley. They had a boy each that was
about grown, they were about 19 years old, Ben Hartman and Clem
Hartley, and they ran about with my older brothers. They all
went to a dance in the late spring of 1866 and this dance wound
up in a free for all fight, but the fight started between Clem
Hartley and a Jayhawker and when Clem started getting the best
of this Northern man another Northerner stepped in and taken a
hand in it and then Ben Hartley knocked him down then another
man hit Ben and brother Joe hit and so on until most everybody
was in it and the Southern boys ran the Northen off, so when
they left they asked the Southern boys to meet them in Pleasant
Gap the next day. They went back over the Kansas line and got
several more Jayhawkers and came back to Pleasant Gap the next
day. Some of the Southern boys went but not all of them. My
brother Joe and Perry was there. Mrs Hartley had been left a
widow after the war and Clem was the only dependent she had, the
other children being girls except two small boys. She begged
Clem not to go, but Clem told her that all the other boys would
be there and if he didn't go they would call him a coward so he
saddled his horse and rode away and when he got to Pleasant Gap
the Northern boys jumped on the Southern boys having about twice
as many on their side, that was the only way they will stand and
fight. This all happened in the Main street after the fight
started some of them pulled guns and shot and killed Clem
Hartley and Ben Hartman and then ran off like they always did.
Brother Perry got on Clem's horse and started after Mrs. Hartley
as fast as the horse would go, she saw him coming and recognized
the horse but did not recognize Perry until he got in about a
hundred yards of the house, only she knew it wasn't Clem because
it did not ride like him. When Perry rode up she was standing in
the front yard wringing her hands and crying, she said, "They
did kill Clem didn't they Perry?" Perry told her of the trouble
and she got on the horse and came back to town as fast as Perry
left town. Perry walked back. In less than an hour every man and
boy was in town with pistols and shotguns, intending to catch
the man that did the killing, but one of the merchants that was
also a doctor talked them out of following them. So the two boys
were taken home and were buried the next day and that night the
Jayhawkers slipped in and danced all over their graves. These
men never were brought to trial for some reason but they never
came back in there for several years.
My mother grieved so much over the death of my father and
brothers, then the loss of all our land and money and this
happening, she still possessed an inner fear for us boys as
things wasn't getting along so well for us boys there between
the Northern and Southern people as they still nursed a grudge
against each other and will as long as we live I suppose. With
all this and the failing of health mother died in the Fall of
1866, then all of us children just scattered out going to our
relatives. I went to a sister in Millville Missouri in Warren
County and lived with her and her husband until 1869 at which
time I left and headed for Texas. I got to Corsicana, a very
small town, about four o'clock in the evening of December 8th of
that year. There was no railroad at Corsicana. Stagecoaches were
run. They come into Corsicana from the North down what is now
13th street. The town was built around the courthouse. The
coming of the Texas Central Railroad in 1871 is what pulled the
business district from the courthouse to where it is now.
When I stepped down from the stagecoach which was stopped
on the West side of the courthouse, I walked up on the sidewalk
and stood there for awhile and looked the town over. There was a
harness shop, some boarding houses, three or four saloons,
hardware store, grocery or general merchandise. All the stores
were built out of lumber, I don't believe there was a brick
store in town. The courthouse was a frame building, and it later
burned. I must have stood there for thirty minutes just sizing
the town up, then I turned and walked into a saloon and ordered
a drink, talked to a few men, then went to a boarding house
operated by Bob Malloy on the East side of the courthouse
square. That night at supper I met a man by the name of Pete
Anderson who lived between the town of Kerns and Rual Shade. He
was in town on business and he made a proposition and I taken
him up. He gave me a crop on the halves and boarded me allowing
me to work my board out when I wasn't working in my own crop. So
after he finished his business the next morning we got in his
wagon and started home which was about twenty miles from here.
The next day he showed me my land, teams and tools. He had about
500 acres of good level land and I started to cutting wood and
post for him, we built fence or any kind of work he had to do.
Mr. Anderson also had a man working for him by the name of
Charlie Bentley, working for him like I was with a crop on the
halves. So Charlie and worked together all the time until we
started out plowing. I finished before Charlie did and went to
plowing for mr. Anderson, and by the time my crop was laid by, I
had my board paid up for the rest of the year, but Charlie
didn't and he had been complaining all the year about Mr.
Anderson giving me the best tools and land, but he had the first
choice as he was there first. Mr. Anderson and Charlie got to
quarreling and Charlie got to coming in drunk and refusing to
work.
One Saturday in late summer I came to town and all of the
Andersons had gone to Rual Shade and left Charlie at home. When
Mr. Anderson and his folks returned they saw smoke coming out of
the house. When he got inside he found the mattress on mine and
Charlie's bed afire on the bottom side, there was also fire in
some clothes in another room. Charlie was gone and did not
return until Sunday night, but Mr. Anderson didn't say much to
him but tried to buy him out, but Charlie wouldn't sell. Mr.
Anderson thought he set the fire but he couldn't prove it.
Things rocked on this way until we started gathering corn. I
tried to sell out to Mr. Anderson as I could see trouble was
coming and I didn't want to be mixed up in it, but he wouldn't
buy me out. I got all my corn and the rent gathered and Mr.
Anderson got his gathered while Charlie was fooling around
gathering the rent. Later in the Fall Charlie went to a dance
one night and about 2 o'clock the big barn burned and Charlie
got in about four. Mr Anderson thought he did this so the next
morning he rode off to find out where the dance was. He
investigated for two or three days and one night about twelve
o'clock a bunch of men rode up and asked for Charlie. All these
men wore mask and white robes like the Ku Klux. They made
Charlie go with them. Mr. Anderson asked them what they were
going to do with him and they said hang him. Mr. Anderson and I
went with them. They came to a big cottonwood tree by the road
and they put Charlie upon a horse, put a rope around his neck,
threw the other end over the limb and tied it to the horn of a
saddle of another horse. The man started to step the other horse
up when Mr. Anderson and I began begging and trying to reason
with them. I don't know whether he was earnest or not but I was.
I knew Charlie was as contrary as the mischief, but he was just
like I was, he had no home to go to and had no folks and he was
young and probably would straighten up. Mr. Anderson told them
what kind of a crop he had and said he would pay him what these
men said it was worth if they would give him a chance to leave.
They argued that he was supposed to have gone to a dance that
night and there was no dance so where did he go, and Charlie
wouldn't tell. So they finally agreed for Anderson to pay for
his cotton crop and he was to leave the county. The leader
pointed towards the moon that was jus rising and said, "Boy do
you see that moon yonder?" I never will forget how it looked, it
looked like a big ball of fire. "We are giving you one more
chance for your life. You go just as straight to that moon as
you can go and don't you stop when you get to it either. You go
straight for three days and the rest of this night and don't you
come back either, if you do we will burn you just like you did
this man's barn. We stood there and watched him leave and one of
the men said well we are rid of one more thief. Mr. Anderson
bought my crop the next day and I left as I knew there was still
more trouble to come, and sure enough there was.
The next Spring I got a contract to furnish the Collins
gin and flour mill cord wood. I bought forty acres of timber and
began hauling two cords a day. I was doing this when Texas
Central Railroad lay it's tracks into town and built the depot.
The people gave a big Ball at one of the railroads here to
celebrate the coming of the railroads. I guess there was over a
thousand people to see the first engine pull into town.
My next job was on a ranch east of town. We herded cattle
from Corsicana east to the Trinity river and South over into
Freestone county. Most all this was free range, only a farm here
and there and two or three settlements, Wadeville, Rual Shade
and Bazette. I have drove cattle across where the main street of
Powell and Kerns are now when it was just a hog wallow and the
cows and horses waded mud up to their bellies. There was
mosquitoes and malaria then. I have been in homes then when
there would be as many as five in bed with malaria. I would set
up all night and ride all day. People would ride ten miles to
wait on the sick in them days.
Spencer, was the foreman of this ranch. The next Spring we
were making the Spring roundup succeeded in getting 500 head
rounded up and were ready to start driving the next. The men
took turns watching that night and about nine o'clock it bgan to
cloud up and the foreman said he would go back to the ranch
house for more hands and horses. The storm broke out about
midnight and I was placed between the cattle and the river
bottom, the hardest line of all to hold. The rain fell in
torrents and the wind nearly blew us out of the saddles. The
wind would sting our faces on the side next to the wind. We were
upon that bald prairie where we got the benefit of all of it. We
were riding in a run and hollering to the tops of our voices
when the cattle finally stampeded and broke the south line. We
all gave chase firing into the ground and finally succeeded in
holding 300 head, the other two hundred scattered and were
finally rounded up in the bottom two weeks later, then we headed
west with them until we reached the old Chisolm trail, then
Spencer turned me and four others back, the balance headed North
with them, I don't remember exactly where they taken them, but
the boys were gone about six months.
Horse and cattle thieves began working in here and when
they were chased they would run for the Tecuacana hills in the
south part of Navarro county and the southern part of Freestone
county. These hills were covered with rocks and scrubby
underbrush which was very thick also there were many caves. This
was where all the outlaws hid out and was known as outlaw
country for several years. But a horse thief was caught and hung
to the limb of an elm tree on Elm Creek where the city lake now
is while I was working on the ranch southeast of town. He hung
there until the coyotes and buzzards eat the flesh off his
bones. A doctor by the name of Croons got the skeleton and kept
it in his office for several years.
The first Spring I worked for Walter Blackburn he sent me
across the Trinity river to collect a $65. debt a man owed him
for a horse. When I crossed over the river was nearly bank full
but when I returned home the next day the river was all over the
bottom, the bottom being in Navarro county. A high bluff is on
the Henderson county side. I crossed over the main channel in a
ferry to a knoll, the ferryman told me a trail was marked on the
trees that followed the higher ground, and if I would follow it
I would come out all right. I started following it, but pretty
soon I lost it and began pulling my horse in the direction I
thought was the trail. He swam and swam and we came to some
higher ground where he could began wading and I stopped to let
him rest for he was very tired. I looked around for signs and
decided I was totally lost and decided to give my horse his
head, he waded off the knoll, turned right angle to the
direction we had been going and after swimming about a hundred
yards I looked up and saw the signs that marked the trail and
the horse followed them until I got out of the bottom and I knew
where I was.
Another time eight of us
boys were sent to the Trinity river bottom to drive the cattle
out, as Mr. Blackburn received word that an overflow was coming.
when we got there the river was all backed out in the sloughs.
We all began riding the low lands and riding hard and driving
all the cattle to high ground. We rode all day in the bottom and
came to the bridge that was across the river at the north end of
our range and met a man by the name of Bradley that told us that
some of our cattle had strayed across the river. We went across
on the bridge which was an arch bridge then we all bedded down
for the night and rounded up our cattle the next day and started
back across the river. When we got to the bridge, both ends were
under water, we could see just about eight foot of the arch in
the bridge. After quite a bit of trouble we got the cattle on
the bridge and after crossing the bridge they had to swim and
here they scattered. We taken after them so as to keep them
together, some of the horses swam low and some swam high. My
horse swam high, only my feet and half way up to my knees got
wet. One of my cousins,
Robert
Bryant had come
down from Missouri and got a job on this ranch and was with us.
[This is William Robert Bryant, my great
grandfather. His father William Abner married John Franklin's
oldest sister, Malinda. Abner was killed at the civil war battle
of Lone Jack, Mo. Aug 16, 1862. Frank refers to Robert as "his
cousin" but in actuality, he is Robert's uncle. I suppose the
reason was because they were the same age. - Eddie]
He started after a stray cow and his horse struck high ground
and then fell off into a slough, him, horse and all went out of
sight. When he came up he was spitting water and cussing the
horse, cow, river, ranch, his job and Texas, but he brought the
cow back and we got them back to the ranch. When all the cows
were counted, the foreman said we had not lost a cow in that
overflow.
Another time
I was sent across the river to see about some cattle that was
reported across, after two days riding across
[riding on the other side]
I found no cattle and crossed on the ferry at Porters Bluff and
started back to the ranch. I had crossed a large piece of
grassland and crossed a little creek when I began smelling grass
burning and seen smoke. The wind was blowing a gale. I rode up
to the top of the ridge and saw that the prairie was on fire.
The flames were leaping in the air and burning grass was flying
everywhere. I whirled my horse and started to run back but I
soon saw that I could not make it to the timber and I knew the
little creek would not be any shelter and my horse was tired.,
for I had been riding him for three or four days. I had heard of
riding through these fires so I turned my horse around and began
putting the whip and spurs to him and headed him towards the
fire. He didn't want to go but I kept whipping and spurring him
and when he hit the fire he was in a dead run. I lay over the
saddle on his neck and my hand over my nostrils when we hit the
blaze. When we got through it he was singed all over and my
cloths were afire in several places. I finally got them put out
and and stopped and rubbed him down good and went on to the
ranch. This was as bad scared as I ever was, for I knew we both
would be burned alive.
While working on this ranch I bought the first pair of
shop made boots giving $10, for them and I was drawing $25. a
month. I could have bought land in the center of the now
Powell-Corsicana oil field for twenty five cents an acre, but no
one thought it was good for anything but grazing.
In 1874 my cousin
[nephew]
Robert Bryant and I were deputized
to trail a horse thief that had stolen one of the best horses
that the ranch owned. We trailed him to Hillsboro and while we
were watering our horses at the public water trough, the sheriff
saw us wearing guns and arrested us, but after everything was
explained he helped us get on his trail out of there and we
followed him on into Bell county, and the man at Belton that
raised the horse, the trail led west out of there, we trailed
him about fifty miles west of Belton and lost him, we never did
hear of that horse again. If we had caught this thief
Robert wanted to hang him where we
caught him and I guess it was best we did not catch him.
About the
middle of November 1876 I quit the ranch and November 28, 1878 I
married Ruth Duncan. Her father run one of the first stores in
Corsicana and before the railroad came he freighted from
Shreveport and Houston going every Spring. I rented land from
Will VanHook farmed it two years then moved to Rual Shade and
was overseer for Dr. Coats of Kerns for seven years. Here I
raised cattle for myself and traded cattle for a farm, lived
here for a few years then sold out and went to Oklahoma and made
the run of 1889, settled in Pottiwatomie county, became
dissatisfied after a few years, then
Robert
Bryant my cousin
[nephew] who was also married and
made the run with me, sold out to my twin brothers who were
younger than I and we headed back to Texas and the prairie. We
crossed the Canadian which was almost a mile wide on ice after
we had ice shoes made for our teams. When we got back we settled
at Blooming Grove in the western part of Navarro county. When I
taken my team to a blacksmith to have the ice shoes taken off as
we didn't need them here he asked me to give them to him as they
were the first he had ever seen and he had them hanging up in
his shop when he died. I lived there until I became too old and
feeble to farm, then moved to town where I now live. I have only
two children, one a farmer living in this county and the other a
barber living in Oklahoma in a little town built on the Canadian
river where I crossed on the ice. I have eight grandchildren
scattered over Texas and Oklahoma and nine great grandchildren.
I have seen towns in this county build and die, how the
railroads changed the people, the effects it had on this county
and Corsicana, also the change the new highways and automobiles
have brought about, have watched Corsicana grow while the
smaller towns of Navarro county are slowly dwindling away. I
have lived life in the raw, but I would be glad to be able to
live it again. THE END.
[This copy of the original
transcript was contributed by Lou Norbeck, a direct descendant
of John Franklin Smith. Thanks cousin Lou! - Eddie]
Notes:
- Submitted by Kay
Masterson
- Original Material posted
at the Library of Congress Website
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