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Welcome to Texas History Lessons.
Let's, without further ado, jump right back into .babs.
Tale of Howe.
He and his sister and another young lady
were taken captive by the Comanches in September 1866.
And if you recall on the previous episode,
we just described how their mother lost her life
and another young sister, infant sister, was left behind.
So let's go back and continue where we left off.
Dot wrote, at the end of the last section,
the plunder taken from my home had been securely
fastened on the pack animals.
And with the three captives consisting
of my sister, Bianca, Mrs. Luster and myself,
the cavalcade without ceremony, but with much solemnity,
fear, and sorrow upon the part of the captives
hastily moved off the premises.
When we had gone about half a mile,
we came upon several of my father's horses grazing
upon the common.
The Indian selected some of the younger of these horses,
which they drove along with the other horses,
they had Caesar stolen, and then took a route of dry creek,
right through where the town of Chico is now located,
then Storth West pushing onward after nightfall,
and only stopping two or three times
the entire night for short intervals of rest.
By nine o'clock the next morning,
we were out of the cross timbers and into an open plains
country.
Faring pursued, it was a custom of the Indians
returning from a raid with captives,
stolen horses and other booty,
to undergo fatigue, hunger, and all manner of privation,
and to exert themselves and horses to the point of exhaustion,
to get beyond the line, the white cellars would venture to follow.
Therefore, for many hours, the Indians gave us but little rest
and neither food nor sleep, but pressed onward persistently
and swiftly.
With length reached the little witch-tall river,
which was swollen by recent floods,
to brimming bank full, but the Indians found a big accumulation
of drift on which we crossed dismounted,
the horses being made to swim the river.
The first thing we had to eat during the many hours since setting out
on this unwilling, mournful journey was after we had crossed the
little witch-tall river and reached holiday creek,
about eighteen miles southwest from the side of the present city
of witch-tall falls.
This feast was on the remains of a big steer that the Lobo walls
had freshly slain, and of which they had eaten both hams,
as was their custom.
From here we proceeded to the big witch-tall river,
which we crossed just below the mouth of Beaver Creek,
and this course was kept till we reached Red River,
that afternoon, about sunset, at a point a little below the mouth
of Peace River.
Being now comparatively safe from pursuit,
the Indians halted with us for three days and four nights,
and during the time they took rest and also nursed a wounded Indian,
who had been shot with a bullet through the right knee and a skirmish
that they had with settlers, before they reached and devastated our home.
And this particular raid, they encountered stubborn resistance and had four
or five severe fights up to the time of attacking our limited home,
and family.
And the first of these fights, they killed two white men and two
Negroes on Carroll's Creek, south of Jacksboro, Texas.
And in the fights that followed with the Owens, Higgins, and Armstrong's,
they had slain four of their warriors, but they managed to carry off three
of their dead and only left one to be scouted by the wides.
The next fight was with Ben Blanton, Glen Housel, and Lansing Hunt.
These men were working for Dan Wagner, and had pinned some cattle that they might
brand the calves at the Old Thorn Place, about three miles southeast of our home.
There was a family living on the Old Thorn Place by the name of Couch,
but the man or head of the family was not at home, and the three men were busy
branding out in the corrals when the Indians charged them.
The men ran to the house where Mrs. Couch and two little children were,
and prepared for a stubborn defense.
The Indians attacked fiercely, and time and again were driven back by the
deadly aim of the three men besieged in the house.
The Indians, after having two of their number killed, and one wounded in the knee,
became discouraged and withdrew, taking with them several horses and brides,
and also their dead.
According to Indian superstition, there would be dire consequences if they failed
to carry their dead off the battlefield, and this they never failed to do,
unless in an unpreventable and exceptional cases.
Their next attack was upon our home, and in manner and results, previously detailed.
Resuming the course of the flight of the Indians with their captives amloved,
following the three days rest with the wounded Indian on the south bank of Red River,
they crossed Red River, taking a northwesternly course,
and crossing the north fork of the Red River at the mouth of Stinking Creek,
and what is now known as Greer County, Oklahoma.
Continuing, they went by headquarters mountain and stayed all night,
and next morning we crossed north fork again, and thus gained the northeast side of that stream,
and kept a northwest course until we stopped on the Wastall River the next night.
Keeping a northwesternly course, we reached the Canadian River at the end of another hard day's travel.
And on its banks, they pitched their camp for the night.
Now here I'm going to enter up DotBab's story, and I want to interject a little bit more context.
And this is as good a time as any to look back at an account of these events,
written closer to the time they occurred.
Remember, Mr. Bab's story was penned in release in 1912.
As mentioned earlier, Mr. Bab evidently misremembered or miswrote the year of his capture,
and at least two newspapers reported the attack happened in September of 1866.
A letter from J.G. Stevens of Dallas to the editor of the Dallas Herald dated September 29th, 1866 stated,
the following, and this is Mr. J.G. Stevens writing,
while in Parker, Jack, and Wise Counties a few days since,
I was requested by a number of citizens of these counties to give you for publication in the Herald,
a statement of bedepredations committed by the Indians and those counties within the last three or four weeks,
and in compliance, they're with, give you the following statement.
They visited Veal Station, a flourishing little town in Parker County September 5th,
and stole all the horses in the town in vicinity.
Attack the houses of a Mr. Liddleton and another man, and took off three children,
one of which they killed some eight or ten miles from home.
They made an attack on a Mr. Han, and four other men, two and a half miles from the town of Weatherford,
the county side of Parker County.
The Indians got their guns, ammunition, etc., which they had in their wagon,
not apprehending an attack so near a town containing 800 or a thousand inhabitants.
The same party were attacked five times between Weatherford and Belknap,
the last time killing two Indians.
These Indians, or a part of them, were met on ten mile prairie in Montague County,
as they were going out and most of the horses were captured from them,
killing one Indian and wounding another.
On the night of the twelfth, another party of thirty-two Indians and camp near Jacksboro.
The next morning attacked Mr. Hansen's house, and were driven off.
They passed on down the Decatur Road to Beans Creek,
where they met and killed Captain Jones of Sherman, his son, and two Negroes.
These men were on their way to Jacksboro to cut hay for the troops at that place.
They then visited the house of the widow Armstrong,
southeast corner of Jack, and plundered it of everything she had.
Unfortunately for herself and her family of small children,
she was at her brother's two-and-a-half miles off.
They attacked his house, Mr. West Higgins,
but were driven off with a loss of two of their number,
but took off all his horses.
The next place they visited was the ranch of Mr. Crouch,
near the bridge on West Fort to Sandy Creek,
and attacked the house of Mr. Bab,
and killed his wife, wounded a Miss Buchanan,
took off two of his children, and a Mrs. Robert,
a widow lady staying at his house, he being absent.
I could give you a great many instances of their depredations on the people of those counties,
but would take too much of your time and space in your paper to no purpose
in inducing the state, or government of the United States,
to put forward the protection necessary to prevent the frontier
from being entirely broken up and abandoned,
which will soon be done unless they get relief from some source.
There is not to be seen at this time one single cow brute
on the Wichita prairies, north of Belknap and Jacksboro.
We're twelve months since, you could see thousands of them in one day's ride.
They are all gone.
The Indians have driven them off.
Now, a couple of things.
One, a cow brute is an old term, basically meaning a herds of cattle.
That's fallen out of use, at least in my lifetime experience.
Also notice that the Mrs. Luster that is spoken of by
Dott Bab and later by Bianca will see is here and identified as a Mrs. Roberts.
And that could be a number of reasons for that.
It could have been that Mrs. Luster was the name of her maiden name
and she, her married name was Roberts or vice versa.
And she was identified as a widow lady staying at the Bab House.
And that makes sense since her husband had been killed during the Civil War.
Next, in a section headed with a title of the frontier,
the October 27th, 1866, Dallas, Weekly Herald shared a letter by a W. W. Brady,
who was a former clerk of Wise County.
And this is his detailed account of the events of the Bab Children and Mrs. Luster being taken.
And Mr. Brady wrote, was glad that some effort was on foot for our protection.
For recent events fully proved to us that something must be done
or the country will be abandoned by our people.
About 20 or 25 Indians came to Armstrong's on Willow Creek in Wise County.
Armstrong fought them killed and scout one Indian.
They then attacked an old man, his son and two Negro men.
They killed all of them but one Negro and he, I believe, is mortally wounded.
They then came to the Pierce Woodward Place.
One of the girls was going to the well after water, about 100 yards from the house.
The Indians attacked her and lanced her several times.
She was rescued by the bravery of her two brothers, Raleigh and Henry.
The Indians took three head of horses from that place.
They then proceeded to JB Floyd's, run a pony up to the house, the family in the house, and took it off.
They then traveled the road towards Decatur, came upon Henson and Dean, who had left town
that evening for Jack County.
The Indians pursued them two miles, but they made their escape.
They then went to the Thorn Place, Glen Hossel, Ben Blanton, and Lansing Hunt were in
the lot.
They ran to the house and the Indians surrounded it.
They had a fight.
The Indians were repulsed.
With three supposed badly wounded, the Indians took off nearly all their horses.
The boys acted bravely, the women encouraging the boys during the fight, acting the heroines
fully.
They then went to John Babs.
Killed and scout Mrs. Bab, carried off two of her little children and left one.
They also took off Mrs. Lizzie Roberts, who was living with Mrs. Bab.
They shot hogs, calves, sheep, and horses.
Took off everything from the houses they wanted.
The news came to town very soon.
About twenty-five men went in pursuit of them immediately, but the Indians traveled
day and night and made their escape as usual.
Our men followed them one hundred miles.
Their horses gave out, and they returned, worn out, and discouraged.
The citizens are all leaving that settlement.
We are all anxious that something may be done for us quickly to save the country.
Urge the governor to organize the troops immediately and put them in the field for action.
I hope you can excuse the intrusion on Babs' story, but this gives some perspective on
what was happening while Dodd, Bianca, and Mrs. Luster or Roberts were being carried
north westward.
The Native Americans rushed, rushed, rushed, traveled throughout the night, pausing briefly
every once in a while, but pushing on.
The twenty-five men from the settlement, they traveled a hundred miles, but by the time
they reached the hundred miles, the Comanches and the Captives were long gone.
They knew how to follow the terrain, follow the land, and, yeah, a hundred miles, they
were resting on the banks of the Red River at the time that the twenty-five men reached
hundred miles and had to turn around.
And in that Dodd's perspective, his account gives a very interesting understanding that
the Native peoples understood, mostly, how far they could push their luck, and they had
a wounded man with them, and therefore they chose to wait and crossing the river and let
him try to heal up.
And now I think is a good time we can return to Dodd's narrative on Mrs. Luster or Roberts
and the Bab children.
And remember, just before I broke away to tell the background information and reports,
Mrs. Luster, the Bab children and the Comanches, had recently stopped on the Washtaw River,
and then, after keeping a Northwestern recourse, they had reached the Canadian River at the
end of another hard day's travel, and on its banks they pitched their camp for the
night.
The Bab continues by saying, here in the night's repose, Mrs. Luster and I made our first
desperate attempt at escape from captivity.
I keep in mind this is Dodd's version of the escape attempt.
We're going to see another version very soon.
Dodd continues, Mrs. Luster laid the plans and directed me during the day to be sure and
fast in a certain fine horse so we could not get far away, and that there was a mare that
would stay with him.
These two animals were stolen on this raid from our neighbors, the Owens.
I secured the knot of the rope on this horse between two limbs.
In making the beds for the night, they had Mrs. Luster, Sister in Miyakupai, and the
Indians then slept all around us.
I was so tired I went to sleep and did not wake till Mrs. Luster nudged me into wakefulness
about one o'clock in the morning.
The moon in the east was two hours high, and the Indians were all sleeping soundly.
We realized we were about to embark upon a perilous undertaking, but in our desperation
we were quite resigned to the consequences.
Dodd then says, as I viewed these savages asleep and contemplated the cruel faces half-lighted
by the moon's rays that filtered through the leaves of the trees, a scene in the predicament
thrilled me with a sense of indescribable horror.
Mrs. Luster and I stole noiselessly away from our bunk upon the ground, and with cat-like
stealth tiptoed to the horses.
Mrs. Luster found a bridle, and this we put on the horse previously secured, and led
him to a log from which she could mount.
Mrs. Luster then whispered to me to get a bridle for the mare I was to ride.
I got the bridle, but the Indians awoke before I could get the bridle on the mare and
came running towards us.
Mean-time Mrs. Luster had mounted, and I told her to get away if she could, whereupon
she bad-me, goodbye.
And with the stillness and swiftness of a shadow disappeared into the night.
Now we will find out what happened to Mrs. Luster eventually, but we're going to stay
with Dott right now and see what repercussions he had.
Dott wrote, I threw the bridle away, and turned back, and in this way for the time being
disarmed the suspicion of the Indians, who had been aroused in noting my absence started
in pursuit.
Upon returning, I laid down and could sleep no more for thanking and wondering what they
would do to me for trying to escape, and it seemed an age before day dawned once
more.
It was fully an hour after my return before they discovered that Mrs. Luster had escaped,
and then eight or ten Indians entered excitedly upon her pursuit.
At length, daylight came, and all the Indians got up, and the ones who had gone on a fruitless
search for Mrs. Luster came back.
They waked my little sister, Bianca, and had her get up, and then all formed a line,
and one of them took and stood me against a big cottonwood tree.
They took their bows and arrows and some old cabin-ball pistols, and were in a line some
twenty or thirty yards from me, and the one who had conducted me to the tree made signs
to me that they were going to riddle me with bullets and arrows, and then take my scalp
and have a big war dance over it.
Here again, my whole past life came into instant review, and in the procession of events
that quickly passed were visions of kindred, boyhood, scenes of joy and sorrow, and the
woeful and pathetic face of my lamented mother stricken and dying, from the deadly knife thrusts
and arrows of my fiendish captors.
My little nine-year-old sister, being made to look on the line of warriors with guns and
bows and arrows, trained on me, burst forth into paracisms of wailing cries and sobbings.
In this moment of doom I spoke to her in quieting, endearing terms, and when she thought
the next instant would be my last, she fell upon the ground, and hid her face.
I was sure they were going to kill me, and wanting the scene closed, I made signs to
them to shoot, and in my unbearable suspense.
When I did this, several of the Indians relaxed their drawn weapons, and thrust themselves
between me and the line of executioners, and then all the Indians came up and pushed
them pulse of defenders aside, and took a raw-hide rope and tied me to the tree.
They then pulled long dead grass, and collected a lot of dry brush from the nearby trees,
and placed all around me, preparatory to cremating me alive, and during all this time my sisters
cries broke the solitudes of these savage wilds.
They had no matches, but used flint and steel in making fires, and the flint and steel
they placed by the grass, and brushed pile about and over me, and then held what seemed
a last counsel.
Being more than ever tired of these preliminaries, I made signs to them to fire the grass, but
instead of doing so they all came forward saying, keep one o' you, and untide me.
I afterwards learned from them that my seeming total like a fear, and utter defiance of
the most painful of death, evidence to qualities encouraged needful in a warrior, and as such
they spared my life, and attached or adopted me as a prospective militant tribesman, seeing
the pall of death littered from me, my little sister embraced me, and wept for joy.
In other tellings of this story, I believe Bianca shares that the dot was so nervous and
scared from laughter that he broke out and laughter at one point.
It was really just extreme fatigue and inability to deal with what was happening, so he just
laughed with the comanches that were laughing at him.
He's completely terrified, but put on a bright face, and it saved his life.
We will see when we get to Bianca's tell that toughness, that showing of no fear, even
the whole terrified, actually helped.
The next step was to take up the trail and recapture Mrs. Lustre, and whose escape the previous
dot I had assisted, for which I so nearly forfeited my life.
Mrs. Lustre was a young widow of attractive person, and a sub-chief directing the marauding
band that captured us, saw and was conquered by Mrs. Lustre's beauty at the time of
the attack on our home, and instantly resolved to take her along as a favorite of the miscellaneous
collection of squalls as the term dot uses attached to his camp, as would be the case with
any refined woman.
Mrs. Lustre looked with abhorrence and loathing upon this enforced union with a Comanche warrior,
without warrant or ceremony.
Other than the savage decree, and the cruel circumstances that made her the helps victim
of an unspeakable violation of humiliation and involuntary debasement, the other Indian
braves concurred complacently, and as is their tribal customs creepulously respected the exclusive
rights and ownership of the chief, to his latest appropriation of a fair, pale, phased
mate.
This loathereo of the forest and plain failing in his avenging designs upon my life, as
a toning for the escape of his white princess, who on the flea's horse of all the camp had
sped away, as if on the shadowy wings of the night was in no temper to accept residedly
his distressing loss.
The sun had now risen, and summoning one of the most alert, daring horsemen of the tribe
as his assistant.
Two of the swiftest horses were mounted, and the trail taken up and determined pursuit
of the fleeing prize.
For some distance the fresh tracks pointed the way, but at length it was found she had
doubled back, crossed, and re-crossed on a trail, finally disappearing in the quicksand
bed of a wide shallow stream.
The wilderness exhaust of the pursuit was abandoned, and the disperited chief rejoined
his band, conscious that the ardently coveted quarry was forever lost to him.
And this is where we will end for today.
You are listening to Texas History Lessons, a slow walk through Texas history made in Texas
by a Texan for everyone everywhere.
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But the story of Dot and Bianca Bab and Mrs. Lustre, it's far from over.
And we'll be back soon with the rest of their story.
Thank you for listening to Texas History Lessons.
Thank you for subscribing to this Texas History Lessons sub-stack, where you can get additional
information including pictures of some of the participants in the story including Native
Americans.
There are also maps showing you the locations of where they camped and the most rivers.
I'll be back soon with the next part of this thrilling story and it's your Bible under
Texas Frontier.
Take care of yourself.
Take care of each other.
Be kind.
Be kind.
I hope so.
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