Scraps of early Texas history

Front matter

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SCRAPS

Chapter I

Fifty years ago the writer had the pleasure of a visit in the State of l^ew York, from her old teacher who had beeu absent in the far west six years ; the last three in Texas as surveyor for Austin and De Witt's Colon}'. Six years is a long time in the life of a school girl, uot realizing that cupid would dare interfere to add to, or detract from the pleasure of the visit which was anticipated with the most ardent longings, merely to see again and hear the recitals of his travels from the man I had revered as my senior in years and knowledge, in fact in all things good, as I had always fancied when 1 was his pupil. IS^ot for a moment imagining that I should breathe the prayer "that Heaven had made me such a man ;" but so it was. I had changed in six years ; he was more than my old teacher now. I had hoped only to see my old teacher who would commend all my advancements in " book lore." I was no longer the girl of twelve years; I admired a something more than my old teacher. He had improved in knowledge, in his manners. His very voice was all in all to me ; but he, of course, knew not the change in my feelings, and so I made free to encourage him to tell his strange experience of wild life; days without food — at best, living by the good luck of the hunter on wild game ; meandering crooked rivers preparatory to laying them off in leagues ; perhaps one hundred miles from the nearest white settlement ; or his story of interviewing a Mexican trader to get the course and distance to certain points, for material for Austin's map of Texas ; or his danger of high water, or wild beast, or poison viper; or his story of a verbal bargain with a few military men who would be on hand near the mouth of the Colorado river, where he had laid off a future city, when he should return the next year with a colony to protect them from cannibal Indians ; and the story of sending a military company to protect him and his surveying party, as they passed down toward the coast through the country (a suspicion being rife that they were going to unearth gold buried by Lafitte the Galveston pirate), so as they went the company increased, and the eyes of white men saw Matagorda in 1827 for the first time, when it was surveyed by E.

E. Wightman. Colonel Austin had secured the location, and become a partner in the league and city. While the laws of Mexico forbade granting lands to settlers within three leagues of the coast, lest individuals should monopolize town sites, yet Colonel Austin gained in a petition to the Governor, that it was necessary to keep up a military post to protect emigrants landing from sea, as the consideration for this exception to the rule and law. So without having the benefit of mails to knbw that the military condition had been complied with, fifty persons were landed early in' 1829, after a route of three months, already told in the "Texas Scrap Book." In my next I will tell of some of the dangers of our voyage, our going over a mill dam on the Alleghany Eiver ; of our leaky schooner ; of stress of weather ; of being repeatedly blown out to sea when our port was in sight, and, finally, running before the wind into the Bay of Aransas ; of our visitation by hostile Indians while the men and guns were all gone to surround deer ; of our great scare ; of our intense anxiety to know if we should find protection at our haven ; of the absence of our boat, as we lay at anchor four miles distant, in Matagorda Bay, fearing our military might not be there, and fearing that the Indians might capture the boat, and leave us without means of communication with the land for water or anything else. Six hours of terrible suspense were relieved by seeing two boats in the distance. The sad story of our sufferings had been told and relief was approaching.

It would take a whole chapter to describe the surroundings of our new home, a large shelter fifty feet square without a plank or uail. Fortunately we found horses to carry messages to the settlements, the nearest being thirty miles distant. There were said to be three hundred familes in the whole country, every man knew each other and scores traveled long journeys to visit us, and prepare homes on land which they would give to those who would settle near them, but many came to spend the summer for their health and built a log school house. At no time were we without large herds of deer in sight in every direction, fish and fowl in the greatest abundance, eggs on the islands and in the bay, could be gathered by the bushel, oysters without stint, of the largest size. Our Indian and worse troubles will be told in another chapter, as well as our shipwreck and fire at sea, and the retreat before the Mexican army, where more women and children found graves than soldiers.

Chapter II

"Blessings brighten as they take their flight." So thought I as I left the scene of my childhood, bade adieu to my brothers and sisters and parents, left all that I had held dear in life, even the Protestant religion, to go beyond the bounds of my own country, beyond the reach of our own mails, to contribute to that boundless empire (yet in embryo) hemmed in by savages, and almost unknown. But "Love moves the world," and love was the inspiring agent, when on November 2d, 1828, a young bride, I joined a party who, in mud wagons, through foul weather, traveled some eighty miles to Olean Point, the head of navigation on the Alleghany river, to meet a colony of fifty immigrants bound for Texas.

My first chapter introduced to the reader my husband, Elias E. "VYightman, who together with David G. Burnet, had left Texas early in the year on a mission to the States to drum immigrants for Austin's Colony. Having reached Cincinnati, he halted waiting for warmer weather to go farther north, and spent his leisure time in making a draft of the first map of Texas, from field uotes which he had obtained from actual surveys and from travelers and traders. He had spent the three previous years in collecting this data, and also in writing a history of all the contracts made by the Mexican government with Austin, together with a digest of all the Mexican laws that concerned immigrants.

At Olean Point we found waiting for us two large flat boats, some twenty feet long by twelve wide, each boat having one end square or perpendicular, thus fitted to be lashed together by boards being nailed on the outside. The sixth day found us on the north shore of the Alleghany river in an Indian village, cold and wet. Here we remained over the Sabbath. The Indians seemed to commiserate our discomfort, and offered us the use of a good log hut in which they had spread pea vines, but which they said could be gathered in a corner, and we be made comfortable before a large fireplace, they in the meantime preferring to live in their tents. Here we took in a pilot to guide us to Pittsburg, who professed to know all about the river and its dangers. Ere long, a loud, roaring noise was heard, but we depended on our pilot, and when too late saw that we were being drawn over a mill dam several feet high, while near the bank a secure pass way was left for boats. I was in the back end of the forward boat, and as we descended, my corner broke loose trom its fastening, at the same time nearly filled with water. The hind boat being separated and slightly held by one corner, did not float away from us, but enabled the men to reach out and hold up the forward boat just as it appeared to be sinking. Now all hands went to bailing; vessels for those who had none; some resorted to the hats from their heads ; anything to get the water out. As my corner parted a little from the other boat, I found I had been bailing between the boats. It was doubtful, for some time, which boat would go under first, but by balancing and holding each other up, and industriously working, we managed to get all the water out. The weather having moderated, we did not stop at once but floated on until a pile of lumber invited us to camp for the night. Here we found comfortable quarters, dried our clothes by large wood fires, and cooked provisions for the next day. Another night found ns in another clean board camp. We saw very few improvements along the river till we came near Pittsburg, only piles of lumber waiting to be rafted down. One of these rafts we overtook and were offered a free passage to Pittsburg, if the hands would assist in the passage down, this was very slow traveling, but very comfortable, clean and warm, with board roof and place for fire, thus were we sheltered in our first snow storm. At Pittsburg we took a steamboat for Louisville. The canal around the falls of the Ohio, had not yet been made, and we had to cart our goods round to Shippingport, and then wait three weeks before a boat could be procured bound for New Orleans. And now we made southward so fast that the transition from ice and snow, was so sudden as to excite our admiration, soon large hedges of roses could be seen from the boat hanging over the enclosure of fields.

Our boat was one made especially for immigrants, large berths arranged around the whole aft of the upper cabin, with large cookstove and galley, the latter being used also by some negro slaves, on their way^to Kew Orleans to be sold. I had been taught in my schooldays to pity them, but those were the first I had ever seen. I often met them at the cook stove and catechised them^for the purpose of getting the history of horrors which was visibly imprinted on the tablets of my memory. ''Were|] they pleased with the idea of going to i^ew Orleans?" "O, yes. Missus, dey tell me it am a mighty good place for de culled folks." And, to my astonishment, a happier set of people, to all appearances, I never saw. Singing and dancing seemed to occupy all the hours which nature had intended to rest the weary body; still they went as cheerful to the^wash-tub the next morning, where, they told me, they earned a considerable amount of jjocket money, for their own use, by washing for passengers and hands on the boat. And such perfect washing I had never seen before, and with such muddy water — clothes as white as snow itself and beautifully ironed.

Our long delays proved a blessing to us, for we found that the yellow fever had ouly ceased a few days before our arrival, about the 10th of December, 1828, Here we waited two weeks before we could find a vessel willing to go to Texas. At last the owner of a small schooner of twenty-two tons, from Maine, offered to sell us the vessel for five hundred dollars^ or charter and sail it there for the same price. We accepted the latter offer, and on the 26th of December, 1828, we floated down from Xew Orleans. Our perils on the Gulf in a voyage of thirty days, with short rations, bad water and only seven days' cooked food, will be told in another chapter.

Chapter III

Having left snow and ice behind, we find all things fresh in New Orleans a few days before Christmas, 1828. On that day the streets of the city were thronged with slaves, who were free until January 1st, 1829. I noticed no white women on the streets, but the negroes in crowds monopolized all the avenues, clothed in richest and gayest apparel. I never at one time had seen so many nice dresses, and was told they were the cast-off dresses of their owners of the previous year, and that quite a rivalry existed as to whose slaves should be best dressed during the Christmas holidays. The men equalled, if they did not excel the women, in their shining broadcloth and stovepipe hats, and as I listened to their pleasant salutations and jovial conversation, I changed my opinion in regard to the condition of the down-trodden slave. It all seemed like a fairy dream to me, being surrounded by this strange race in a country where all nature was clothed in summer attire — roses everywhere, with an endless variety of other flowers, and fruits brought from a tropical climate and seen now for the first time. I very much enjoyed watching the negroes, and studying their doings and feelings. In the markets both the buyers and sellers were mostly of this class and their gossip was very interesting to me.

The day after Christmas we were ready to begin our voyage, and, taking on sixty passengers, the schooner Little Zoe,

Captain Alden, of Maine, commanding, began to float down the river in the fog. Our other officers were John McHenn, mate, and a German sailor. Our Baptist' missionary, Thos. J. Pilgrim, late from his studies, alone, of all the passengers, knew how to work a vessel, and this proved the means ot our final safety, as I now learn from his story in the Texas Scrap Bool', written by him after a lapse of forty-five years. I, writing after fifty years, remember some things he forgot, especially dates. He says we ate our Christmas dinner on board the schooner on the Colorado river_, but I can never forget the scenes on the street in New Orleans on that day, as described above. My journal says we landed in Matagorda January 27th, 1829.

On the first day of January, while rolling about in a calm on the Gulf of Mexico, and trying to amuse ourselves by having a concert with many fine singers, one of our young ladies had her neck blistered in the hot sun. Our provisions and fresh water were being fast exhausted, and many of our number were sick, some seasick, others with fever contracted in New Orleans, and all impatient for home comforts. When it became necessary to put us on an allowance of half a pint of water per day, it was real suffering to many. For myself, I was sick, and loathed the water from the first, and only drank a little with sugar and vinegar. My husband felt his responsibility and did all in his power to cheer our drooping spirits and make us comfortable. Most of the winds were exactly ahead of our desired course, and after a long calm (in which we rolled most unpleasantly), we were sure to be greeted by a norther, which would make us lose more in a few hours than we had gained in days ; so that when ap- X^roaching the coast, though at a great distance, if within soundings, would cast anchor till the blast was over, generally the third day. Many times when our port was in sight we would fall to the leeward, and it would be impossible to beat up to it before another norther would strike us. Mr. Pilgrim does not mention the fact that our vessel sprung a leak. All at once our little cabin floor was flooded, and then the few whose home was in that locality worked with a will to bail and hand up buckets of water, while the pumps never ceased for twenty-four hours. Finally the pump broke, and while it was being repaired, some of the bailing party removed some freight, to better reach the water in the hold of the vessel, when the water seemed to cease and a bunch of seaweed was discovered filling the hole which had been made by drawing up the anchor.

My second chapter in this series tells of the gale of wind which drove us thirty miles west while we were vainly striving to beat up Matagorda Pass, and of our adventure with hostile Indians while all the men and guns were gone to surround deer. I never knew, till since reading Mr. Pilgrim'is account, of the great peril of our situation as we again attempted the dangers of the ocean between the ports, I never knew before that the Captain and sailors were the worse for whisky. I knew that we made use of long sweeps to row the vessel into Matagorda Pass, but did not know that we were in danger of being cast ashore by the swell of the sea, without any wind to get away from the shore, among hostile Indians, one hundred miles from any white settlers. Hence, at the advice of Mr. Pilgrim, these long sweeps were used to keep us from the impending peril, though passengers, all unaware of any danger, thought it was simply to expedite our speed. The Captain was asleep and Mr. Pilgrim at the helm when the wind died away. None knew the channel, and the mate and Mr. Pilgrim took our only boat, found the channel, and towed us into port on Sunday, January 27th, 1829, where we bad great rejoicing. Having been six days in Aransas harbor, where we had recruited and renovated our sea soiled garments, and by digging a few feet found a good supply of fresh water — with fish and fowl, and plenty of fresh oysters, we now felt quite refreshed. So that when we made this sail of forty miles up the bay, notwithstanding hostile Indian smokes telegraphed our approach, we felt comparatively happy over our creature comforts.

Chapter IV

Prior to the arrival of the sixty immigrants brought by E. R. Wightman, for Colonel Austin, in 1828-29, when Colonel Austin began to colonize his first three hundTed according to contract — the Carankawa [^Indians inhabited the whole of the sea coast. They were reputed to be cannibals and very ferotious, hence, 'probably the' Spaniards, believing every ficticious rumor, were but little disposed without a strong military force, to invade those tribes or gain any reliable information regarding the coast.

The first sttlers of Austin's contract arrived in considerable force on the coast' and were well armed. The Indians were sufticiently^peaceable'as long as the settlers remained together, only begging or stealing as'the occasion permitted ; but when they separated to explore the country or to select eligible locations, four of their number, who were left to guard the camp, were^killed and their goods and provisions carried off; while at other places where settlements had been commenced, the Indians],lay in wait till the men would leave the house, and massacre^whole families of women and children. On one occasion only one child was found alive with an arrow fast in its body. Thus hostilities commenced. The colonists were not strong enough at this period to retaliate, being unaided by a single government soldier, and so were compelled to submit to the insolence they could not resent. These vexations were endured for several years, when the number of the colonists having greatly increased, they mustered a party of sixty riflemen to punish them for some recent murders. Colonel Austin commanded this expedition in person — the result being the slaughter of half the tribe. The remainder took refuge in the church of the Mexican mission of La Bahia (Goliad). The priests were ordered to turn them out on pain of having the sanctuary violated. But after much entreaty ^by the priests and the Alcalde, the civil magistrate, a truce was granted tlem on the condition that they should never again cross the Lavaca river, the western boundary of Austin's Colony. This agreement they kept till driven ofif by the Mexicans for crimes committed there.

And this was the state of affairs when stress of weather drove the "Little Zoe," a schooner of twenty tons burden, chartered in New Orleans, Christmas day, 1828, by E. E. Wightman, laden with sixty immigrants bound for the future city of Matagorda.

Only a verbal agreement had been made with Colonel Austin the year before, that he should meet us with a few armed men to protect our landing and aid us in commencing a town thirty miles from the nearest settlement.

Our little schooner was a bad sailor — time and again we made the pass, but would always fall to the leeward, and the vessel could not beat up against the wind ; then a severe norther would strike us, and for fear of being blown off to sea in our frail craft, on short water and uncooked food, and in our crowded condition with many sick, we would cast anchor till the blast was over. Then perhaps a dead calm would ensue for several days, and now the vessel springs a leak; all hands to bailing; the pump will not relieve her; the anchor broke a hole in the bow. But just as the pump gave out a bunch of seaweed tilled the liole, as was discovered when the vessel was repaired, so

"There is a Providence tliat sliapes our ends, Rough hew them as we may."

Finally, when about to make our harbor — when in sight of it — a most violent storm, a hurricane rather, struck us, and we had no choice but to run before the wind for thirty miles to the Aransas Pass, which we did in some thirty minutes, entering it in safety. And so rejoiced were we to escape the ocean, and to be freed from our prison, and to have the luxury of oysters, fish and fowl, as well as to renovate our sea soiled garments in good soft water, that the thought of the hostile Indians never occurred to us. So on seeing some large droves of deer, it was suggested that all turn out and surround them, of course taking all the firearms with them. There were left on board the Captain, mate and one sailor.

our whole sailing crew, one old gentleman, and Rev. T. J. Pilgrim, our Baptist Missionary, late from his theological school, and one colored man. One old musket, not supposed to be of any use, was our only weapon of defense. All the women and children were on shore a hundred yards from the vessel, and all our hunters out of sight, when suddenly there appeared two large canoes crowded with Indians, makingstraight for our vessel.

Chapter V

Human nature is the same in all countries. Love of adventure ; love of money-making ; love of hair-breadth escapes ; planted in man for wise purposes, have indirectly been the means of revohitionizing and civilizing nations, of planting the germs of future homes for our fellow-beings in happiness and prosperity. The ancients used to s.'iy, "The mills of the gods grind slow." We say the Almighty works by means, and "makes the wrath of man to praise him." This love of adventure and love of gain, however unlawful, has periled many a life in the contraband trade with the Mexicans, when the cultivation and trade in tobacco was a, government monopoly. If the daring adventurer was successful he made a fortune ; but woe to him if detected in the business. His greatest danger was from the hostile Indians, who found unbounded range on the western coasts of the Gulf, for plundering these trading vessels driven thither by stress of weather or want of water. Indeed the cases were rare that a small trading vessel tempted to these coasts ever escaped to tell the story of their peril. Enough, however, was known to cause fright among our vessel's crew at sight of canoes tilled with Indians mentioned in my last. We innocent passengers felt no particular fear, never having heard of the hostilities and we did not credit the belief that human beings would, in cold blood, take our lives without

STORY OF AN OLD PIOIS'EER. 39

provoeatiou ; but I afterwards learned that the Indians had a superstition that the great spirit sent these vessels for their benefit, hence they learned to love whisky and tobacco.

The Captain lost no time in dispatching the colored man for our hunters, now out of sight and miles away. Our old musket — our only weapon — was hunted up and put in order. Meantime our litthi skiff, holding three or four persons, was trying to bring on board all the women and children from the shore, depending on the old musket to keep the Indians from coming too near. But we had not time; the Indians neared the schooner, and the musket was fired to frighten them off. This, however, turned them toward the shore, which they reached just as the last load was about to enter the skiff". The Captain shook hands with them and invited them to the schooner. A conversation in broken Spanish ensued. They said they were friends— though only seven in number, they carried bows and arrows enough for a hundred — they were told that we had forty soldiers on shore hunting. The Captain made a virtue of necessity, and asked them to dine, hoping the hunters would return by the time they had finished their meal. Meantime, the colored man got near enough to some of the hunting party to show his color, and they supposing him to be an Indian, passed the word from one to the other, and every one started in pursuit, each man carrying a gun, or in its absence something to represent one f and as they came running in single tile, they made in the distance a very formidable appearance. Our visitors left us without throwing a single arrow, though a dozen could have been thrown before a gun could be fired. But they valued their lives and thought they saw too many men, and before our men could get on board with our one small craft, every Indian bade us "a good bye,'' and departed.

Eight thankful were we, and lost no time in renewing our voyage to Matagorda Pass, which we entered Sunday morning of the last week in January, 1829. It was with great anxiety that we approached our haven. Should we meet friends or foes ? should we be greeted by friends or destroyed by hostile Indians'? It was evident that we were watched ; we, could see the signal smokes — the Indian mode of telegraphing— all along the mainland, in passing up the Bay, where no vessel had ever been, except perhaps the pirate Lafitte, whose headquarters had been on Galveston Island.

E. R. Wightman, who had surveyed Matagorda the year before, was now at the mast head all the way up the Bay, taking notes and bearings of the lands which had never been trod by feet of white men. Not having time to take soundings that night, we dropped anchor four miles off the coast opposite the mouth of the Colorado river, and late in the evening Mr, Wightman with two men took their rifles and started in the skiff to explore and ascertain whether Colonel Austin had planted his military post with shelter tor our sick and sea-Avorn company. It was with sad hearts we saw them depart, not knowing but that Indians were lying in wait for them, and even before they landed might be shot by arrows from an unseen foe, and no means left us of ascertaining their fate, for we had no other boat, and really no means of leaving the country, for our schooner was not seaworthy. Language cannot describe our feelings when just before dark two boats came in sight; our hoping and fearing till we found that they contained white men ; then our great joy at the assurance that we were really with friends. They brought good things for our sick. It was voted that I should have the honor of being the first white woman to ascend the mouth of the Colorado liver and return with the boats that night.

After our city of Matagorda had grown to quite a size many of our settlers still refused to have any dealings with the Indians, who were now so reduced in numbers as not to be dangerous, yet when the Indians would come to those settled on farms around the town offering to trade venison for corn or articles of clothing, the people refused to have anything to do with them, or even to be friendly.

Finally, an expedition was planned against them without Mr. Wightman's knowledge or consent, and the very day that I had fed a poor old Indian, covered with scars, he met his death at the hands of our settlers, who fell on them by surprise, aud it seemed that each warrior claimed the honor of his slaughter, as he stepped forward to be a target while the women and children could have time to escape to the thicket. Of course all their goods aud weapons fell into the hands of their conquerors.

After a few years a small party, evidently remembering who had fed them on the day of the fight, came to us. My husband became responsible for their good behavior, and set them to picking cotton^ but before this they dared not venture into the town, only when they saw our boat coming down the Bay. There were no white settlements on the Peninsula, and the Indians had it all their own way there, but they were evidently afraid of another attack and so came and offered to work for us for protection.