The Galveston Daily News
Monday,
February 20, 1893
pg. 6
AN EARLY
TEXAS INCIDENT
For The News:
Reading in The News
a few days ago an account of Mr. Taylor's
experience in Texas when the state was in
its infancy recalled to my mind an incident
in my childhood which happened many years
after the experience then related. I
was quite young at the time of that
memorable trip, but having the tenacity of
most all childish minds to retain
impressions, it is as clear in my mind as if
it had happened yesterday. It came
about in this way: My father, who had been
educated for a physician, had laid aside
that calling for one which had greater
attractions for him - farming. We
owned a beautiful place 2 miles from where
Denison now stands, in which my father took
great pride. The soil was fertile and
well repaid all labor spent upon it and we
soon had an orchard of splendid fruit, which
was a great luxury in Texas in those days.
Then the
surrender came, our cause was lost and
slaves were free. This meant for us
that my father must renounce his pet calling
and again join the Knights of Escuiapius if
he was to provide bread and butter for his
now small family. As our own
neighborhood and nearest town were well
supplies with practitioners he decided to
make a trip through the adjacent counties,
looking up a location. Mother and I
were to make the trip with him. The
first night after leaving home was spent at
Whitesboro, in the edge of Grayson county,
where the people told us the Indians had
just made a raid, carrying off many cattle
and horses, and it was reported, some women
and children. My mother was ready then
to "sound the retreat," but being assured
that they never made their appearance except
during a full moon, she was persuaded to go
on to visit some old friends near
Gainesville. When we arrived we found
the reports verified. Every house we
entered had the corners of the room stocked
with arms, and all persons had some
harrowing tale to tell of the deeds of the
Indians. The most horrible was of
their entering the home of a settler and
carrying off the mother and her babe.
They tied the poor woman on a mule and
gave her the child to carry. There was
snow on the ground and the air was bitterly
cold. The mother could not hush the
cries of the babe, and for fear of the cries
attracting the attention of those in hearing
they took it from her and dashed its brains
out against a tree in sight of the mother.
The poor woman after going some
distance managed to slip from the mule, and
this in the darkness and hurry of retreat
they did not perceive. Too near frozen
to walk, she crawled on hands and knees
until she came to a house, where after
resting and warming she returned with the
people and found the remains of her infant
lying undisturbed in the snow.
This was
quite enough for my mother, who after
spending a day or two with an old time
settler, Mr. Hobs, in the northern part of
the county (his son was afterward sheriff),
returned home, and my father yielding to the
solicitations of friends and relatives in
Arkansas, moved to that state just in time
to miss the tide of prosperity which came to
this state with the new railroads.
Mattie
Gilliam Pryor
New Boston,
Tex.
