The Scalp Collector
The evening rain fell in torrents, making it difficult to
see in the distance. A young cattleman and scout named Charles Goodnight rode
from house to house along the western edge of Parker County, trying to raise a
company of volunteers to chase down a Comanche war party. A few days earlier, his
neighbor, Martha Sherman, was gang-raped, scalped and shot with arrows before
giving birth to a dead child. She died too - four agonizing days later.
His last stop, the dogtrot cabin of Isaac Lynn came into
view. The curling smoke from its chimney inferred warmth and comfort, which
belied the gruesome discovery inside. Under the glow of a burning fireplace,
Goodnight found Lynn roasting an Indian scalp on a forked dogwood stick. Along
with the pungent order, grease oozed from its skin, eventually becoming dry and
tough, thus preserving it against any damaging moisture. After his daughter,
son-in-law and their baby were killed by Indians, Lynn began amassing a collection
of scalps. Goodnight’s attention was diverted by the arrival of eight
volunteers to help him chase down the Comanches. Time was of the essence, or
else they would disappear into the vastness of West Texas.
Governor Houston’s Dilemma
In 1860, Comanche raids had increased sharply in Jack, Palo
Pinto, Parker, and Young counties. Newly elected Texas governor, Sam Houston, told
legislators, “Depredations by the Indians are so frequent that to hear of them
has almost ceased to excite sympathy and attention in the interior of the
state.” The U.S. Army, underpaid and overstretched, garrisoned a line of forts
across Texas, but could accomplish little against the nimble Comanches. In a
letter to U.S. Secretary of War John B. Floyd, Houston wrote, “Unless the
Indians are fools enough to go up to a Garrison and be shot down, Garrisons
will be of no use only to shelter the inmates.” He also pointed out that
Federal horses were grain fed, not grass fed, and of little use in riding the
vast distances in search of Indians. Then
there was the problem of money. There just wasn’t enough to pay and supply all
the Rangers and volunteers needed. In desperation, Houston turned to an old
political crony, Milton Tate Johnson.
Middleton Tate Johnson
Milton Tate Johnson Takes Command
A native of North Carolina, Johnson served two terms in the
Texas Legislature and ran for governor four times, losing in each attempt. He
commanded a regiment of Texas Rangers along the Trinity River. On June 6, 1849,
he and Brever Major Ripley A. Arnold established a fort they named after U.S.
Army General William J. Worth – Fort Worth. Johnson also helped organize Tarrant County.
He later established a cotton plantation, becoming the largest slaveholder in
Tarrant County.
On March 17, 1860, Houston authorized Johnson to raise a
force of Rangers. Eventually, seven companies were raised and assembled at Fort
Belknap in Young County. Among them was a promising young captain named
Lawrence Sullivan Ross. Fort Belknap was a U. S. Army fort abandoned after the nearby
Indian reservation was closed and the Indians moved north into the Indian
Territory. After a rousing parade, the problems began to emerge, the main one
being a lovesick Johnson.
Love and Rangers
Her name was Mary Louisa Givens, the English widow of a U.S.
Army officer, who was suspended after his men tried to burn down their own fort
near Abilene, Texas. Johnson, himself a
widower with five children, was head-over-heels to the point he abruptly left
Fort Belknap to marry his sweetheart in Galveston. In a private letter to
Houston, Johnson wrote, “I am bound to see her, but will be back before I am
missed.”
He was missed all right. Without a firm guiding hand, the
Rangers began to drink and fight amongst themselves. A lack of food and water added
to the deteriorating morale. The
Rangers, less Johnson, finally set out on June 10, 1860, to take on the
Comanches. Under the command of Captain J. M. Smith, they found no Indians. The
offensive failed miserably. Under
mounting criticism, Houston was forced to disband Johnson’s command.
The Tracking
Meanwhile the raids grew worse. The Comanches made off with a huge herd of horses. This time, the response was quicker. Under the more competent command of Captain Lawrence Sullivan “Sul” Ross, fifty-nine rangers, ninety-three volunteers, including Goodnight and the eight he brought from Parker County, and a detachment of twenty-one U.S. cavalrymen rode out on December 14, 1860. They rode through the Western Cross Timbers until they reached the Pease River near present day Vernon. Goodnight scouted the way, made difficult by thousands of Buffalo tracks. Through experience, he managed to discern the horse tracks from those of the buffalo. A break came when he discovered Martha Sherman’s family bible. Comanches often took books during raids, using the paper to pad their shields against bullets. Another sign was the nearby chittam trees, which bore a berry Comanches craved. Looking over the ground around the trees, Goodnight saw signs they were not more than ten minutes away. A freshwater creek, Mule Creek, was close by. It was likely the Comanches were camping there.Ross found them first. Only two hundred miles away were
eight or nine grass huts. Not exactly a whole Comanche village filled with
menacing warriors, but more of a camp used to process buffalo meat. The Indians
were casually packing-up to leave, never noticing what was about to happen. The
cavalry
detachment broke away to block of the Indians escape route. The Rangers
charged head on, hitting the Comanche camp like a cue ball hitting racked billiard
balls. The Indians scattered in all directions. The Rangers shot down squaws
and men alike. Ross shot down one Comanche later identified as a chief, Peta
Nocona, though Comanche witnesses later testified that it wasn’t him. During
the battle of what was latter called The Battle of Pease River, seven Comanches
were killed during the charge. Four of them were women. Ranger Hiram Rogers
later recalled, “but I am not very proud of it. That was not a battle at all,
but just a killing of squaws.”
Cynthia Ann
Among the female captives, Ross made a startling discovery.
One of the squaws was a blue-eyed Caucasian, holding a baby. Her hair was
cropped short in Comanche fashion. Covered with blood and grease from handling buffalo
carcasses, she called herself Naudah and was taken captive as a child, but having
little recollection of how it happened. Mother and child were taken to Camp Cooper
in Throckmorton County. While there, it was revealed she was Cynthia Ann Parker,
captured by the Comanches at the age of nine, brought up Comanche, and married
to the slain Peta Nocona. Cynthia Ann had two sons and a daughter named Prairie
Flower, who was the only child she had with her. Now thirty-three years old, she
knew little English and felt more captured than rescued. Cynthia Ann agreed to live
with her Uncle Isaac at his farm near Fort Worth, but she was more the grieving
Comanche widow than the grateful, long-lost niece finally returning home. She
slept on the floor and spent hours by a campfire staring up at the stars,
depressed by the loss of her husband and not being able to see her sons. When
Prairie Flower died of a fever, she mourned in the Plains Indian way by cutting
herself along the arms and breast. Cynthia Ann Parker died in 1870 of an
unknown illness, no doubt exacerbated by a broken heart. One of her surviving
sons would grow up to become the last great chief of the Comanches - Quannah
Parker.
Check It Out
Check out the movie, “The Searchers,” based on the novel by Alan Le May about the kidnapping of a Caucasian girl by Comanches. The girl’s half crazed uncle, played by John Wayne, conducts a search for her.
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