Early Pioneer Days in Texas
Chapter XIV
Capt. Shelton
This indomitable old settler was born in Arkansas on April llth, 1823. In 1827, during the month of September, he made his pilgrimage to the land we love Texas and located where Roxton is now. At that time it was a frontier settlement, a sort of fortification was built there, so the families could live without danger of destruction by the Indians. The women and children stayed in the fort, while the men went out and worked, having pickets and spies ready to warn them if any of the marauding Indians should approach, so that they could hasten to the fort and be prepared to defend themselves. The place was then called Fort Shelton. A company of rangers was organized under the command of W. B. Stout. Capt. Shelton was a member of this company, though only a lad of about sixteen years. The fort was afterwards moved south of where Honey Grove is now after several battles with Indians, and Capt. Shelton served in the company of rangers nearly a year. He afterwards enlisted as a minute man in a company whose watchword was to be ready at a minute's notice to defend the home and lives of women and children. They had many exciting experiences with the Indians, who made a practice of stealing the white man's horses and a pony of Shelton's, one he thought a great deal of was one the Indians stole, and he never felt kindly to the Indians thereafter. A man by the name of Davis was killed about the time of the moving of the fort from Fort Shelton, and a great deal of skirmishing was done. Capt. Shelton was very well acquainted with Bailey English, father of Jo English, who married Capt. Shelton's sister, and so he was quite intimate with the garrison at Fort English, then a settlement located where Bonham stands now. This fort was built of stout logs in which, at frequent intervals, were placed loopholes, enabling them to shoot any
enemy that might approach. Our company of minute men was commanded by Capt. Jack Wilson, and many an Indian learned to his sorrow the accuracy of this company's aim, the rapidity of their action. They did not make many attacks on this fort, because they soon found out it was too disastrous to their braves and the Indians were glad to turn away from the dangers that attacking this fort resulted in to them.
The famous Davy Crockett came through this country on his way to the fort that has made Texas heroism and bravery the most famous in modern and ancient history. Fort Alamo is, and always will be, the synonym for deeds of bravery. History does not record a greater evidence of fearlessness and courage than that battlefield, and we do well revere their memory and extol their virtues for the battle for the glorious liberty which we hold so dear and has made our great State the admiration of every man, woman and child throughout the civilized world.
It was on the journey to the Alamo that Crockett camped at Honey Grove. He gave it the name it bears because he found such an abundance of honey. The name was cut in large letters on a chinguapin tree and has been so called from the time it was a grove on the prairies, until it has now grown to be quite a city.
In the minute men service Capt. Shelton had several encounters with Indians. There was not a great number in the company, but they were indomitable fighters, and in every conflict there was many an Indian went to his happy hunting ground. On one of these occasions a famous Indian doctor was mortally wounded. He had in his possession a collection of Indian medicines and herbs, and a creek ran close to where the doctor was wounded and from which they named the creek Doctor's Creek, near where Cooper is today in Delta County. Sherman was surveyed by a man by the name of Shannon. Pinhook was the name of the village where the city of Paris now stands. There was a store there run by George Wright. This was before there was a home of any kind in Honey Grove. Jonesborough, thirty-five miles northeast of Paris, was our nearest town, and there is where we purchased our supplies, paying for them with skins of animals killed by our trusty guns. Our animals were driven to market, sometimes to Jefferson, Texas, and from there shipped to New Orleans. And ofttimes it was advisable to drive them to Nebraska and Kansas, over the Chisholm trail, at great risk of loss from the Indians, and the cowboys had to sleep out on the prairies, always in danger from panthers, wildcats, bears, etc. But they became inured to hardships and dangers, and were brave, honorable and industrious. They were frequently obliged to exercise the duty of guardians of the law and frequently were obliged to hang desperadoes and cattle thieves and depredators to rid the country of these undesirables. On one occasion a band of desperadoes, led by Jones Ray and some other white men who had conspired to murder and assassinate, and had committed a murder, were caught and speedily hung. Dr. Jewett, a pioneer from Missouri, was assassinated in his home one night, and when his murderer was discovered and had confessed he was also hung.
It would be a good and sufficient cause for commotion to go to church Sunday morning and find the men all armed with shotguns, expecting at any minute to be called on to use them in self-defense, and yet that is exactly what did happen in those days when we had our camp meetings. At one of these camp meetings, conducted by a Methodist minister by the name of Orr, where Roxton is now located, while the meeting was in progress, the Indians crawled up and stole the finest race horse in the community and rode him away, but the spirited animal, by some means, managed to escape from them and returned with a rope dangling from his neck.
One of the first physicians that located in the community was Dr. Mittower. He was a very able and efficient physician and practiced in a very large territory. The blessings to humanity, administered by his hands, have never been fully repaid, but many a patient suffering from the ills to which flesh is heir, bless the good doctor's name for his generous administration.
In those good old days the circuit preachers were a helpful gift to our needs. The Rev. J. W. P. McKenzie and the Rev. John Graham were our first circuit preachers, and they were obliged to take long and dangerous journeys to reach their several stations over lonely trails and across vast and untenanted prairies. Every once in a while there would be big camp meetings and a regular pentecostal awakening that would last for weeks and many souls be converted. Rev. John Newton assisted at one of these meetings and frequently the meetings would last till after midnight in the brush arbors, and there would be stirring scenes of men and women giving their souls to God's keeping. Many of those who were born into the Kingdom of God are now answering the roll call on the other side of the river now.
For seventy years Capt. Shelton has been a member of the Methodist Church, having joined under Rev. McKenzie when he was only eighteen years of age, and for sixty-five years he has been steward. The captain married Martha Elizabeth Yates, daughter of Thomas Yates and Avis Yates, who came to Texas in 1842. Capt. Shelton's wife died in May, 1911; they had lived happily for sixty-five years. She was a faithful wife and a devoted mother, blessed with all the good qualities of a Christian wife and mother.
For over fifty years he has been a Mason and was always actively engaged in the work of the order until his eyesight dimmed and his hearing was partially suspended. He was worshipful master of Roxton Lodge until disqualified because of his physical disabilities. In politics a staunch Democrat; served regular sessions and two called sessions in the State Legislature. Over half his life was devoted to the interests of the State and church, not because of political ambition, but to serve his people.
On the occasion of his dear wife's death, the following was dedicated by Rev. John D. Major, his pastor:
The Parting
To Brother E. J. Shelton, of High, Texas, on the loss of his devoted wife, after sixty-five years of happy wedded life:
They stood beside the crossing as the evening shadows grew,
And he took her slender hand in his as was often wont to do;
So she received his fond caress and felt it was her due,
The homage of a knightly soul, so loving, faithful, true.
They heard the oarsman coming to bear her life away,
Though she clung more closely to him at the closing of the day;
While she whispered to him softly, in words of love complete,
We have walked so far together and the way has been so sweet.
I wouldn't mind the crossing if you could only go.
I grieve to leave you, darling, in this cold world below.
He stooped and kissed her furrowed brow, now crowned with silver gray,
As they stood beside the crossing at the parting of the way.
He saw the bloom of maidenhood and the charming bride so fair,
The lovely bloom of motherhood and the lines of mother's care;
And as the tears bedimmed his eyes, the oarsman gently bore her away
To where love's sweetest flowers bloom in the fields of endless day.
By her pastor,
John D. Major
Brookston, Texas.
Adventures of Capt. Shelton
I and my brother were sitting on the porch when we heard the cattle bellowing, and on looking to find the cause of the noise, we found them chasing a bear across the prairie towards a creek. We had two rifles and a shot pouch, and eachof us grabbed a rifle and went to intercept the bear. He ran across the creek into a grove and I started up a cow path bythe creek. I saw the bear coming toward me. Being small at the time and young, I could not hold the rifle out in myhands, so I rested my gun on a tree and made a bad shot, but I hit him, though it was not a fatal wound. My brother,hearing the shot, came to me. The bear, in the meantime, ran after my dog. I took my brother's gun and gave chaseafter the bear, who had run towards a big thicket, but I headed him off. A tree had been blown down and I crawled upinto it waiting for him. Pretty soon he came, and looked as though he was coming to join me, so I decided there wasn't room enough for both of us, so I hurried to get out. Just then the bear turned to pass and I let him have the contents of the gun and it hit him in a vital spot. My brother came rushing in on the scene just then. I was already on the bear and yelled to brother not to shoot, that I had him and claimed the honor and credit of being a bear hunter. The bear was a big fellow and so old he was gray. My father was amused when I told him of my skill, and after he had examined the bear, praised me for having done so well. He said it was one of the largest he had ever seen and that I deserved credit for it.
At another time my wife's brother tackled a bear up in the snow. We tried to keep our dogs in the rear, but they took after the bear ahead of us. The bear went around in a circle and finally came back near where we were. My brother-in-law shot at him and missed; my shot hit him on the thigh and broke it; the two dogs came up and I advanced toward the bear, my gun in hand. The bear sprang away from the dogs at me. I thrust my gun in his face and he grabbed it with his mouth. I shoved the gun in his mouth so he couldn't bite me. He took a good hold of the gun and broke one of his teeth in his attempt to bite the barrel and jerked the gun out of my hand. The dogs were harassing him and they partially drew his attention from me. Finally he sprang from the dogs again and tried to get me with his claws and hug me with his huge paws, but I got behind a tree. He tried to get me behind the tree and made several attempts to bite me, but I finally got my knife out, and as he tried to reach me on the one side I thrust my knife into his side and kept myself in readiness to fight him to a finish. I finally succeeded in landing a fatal blow and we had bear meat for food for several days.
On another occasion we had a Christmas frolic down on Sulphur. The evening before we had killed a small bear and the next morning there was a misty rain which made the cane very wet our camp had been made in this cane so wet that it threatened to spoil our powder. All of the others had the old flint lock-guns but myself and another of my comrades, and ours used percussion caps. We tried to keep our caps and powder dry by covering it with tallow. We hadn't started very far when we discovered a large bear. The hunters and dogs gave chase to the bear except myself, but I, seeing a large cane break, felt sure he would try to make that, so went to head him off. As soon as I got to the place I expected he would go I found the bear and dogs came together and the dogs caught him close to where I was. There wasn't any chance to shoot him in a vital spot until he fell and rolled over with his head towards me, his mouth wide open. I fired into his mouth, but the ball did not go far enough back to kill him. In a short time he was up on his feet again, the dogs having hold of him. I dropped my gun, pulled out my knife, and stabbed him on the opposite side, knowing that if I stabbed him on the side next to me he would bite me. I had to cut him three times before I finally killed him, and in one of the lunges I made he grabbed my arm and tore the cuff off my coat.
On still another occasion we found a bear in his den; he had scraped up the leaves from all around and made himself a bed. As I looked in I saw him raise his head. I thought he was coming out, so I called to the rest of the party and the dogs. The dogs charged him, but they came back with a rush and we expected the bear to follow the dogs, but he didn't. It was so dark we could see him well, so when we fired at him we only wounded him. The dogs went in again, but came back in a hurry and one of the hunters took another shot at him. I crouched down so the light could come over my back, so I could see better, and as he crossed the light hole I fired and killed him. Hastily whipping out my knife, I trimmed a hickory pole, twisted the top and made a noose, which I fastened around the bear's foot by crawling in the hole, and the boys caught me by the heels and pulled me and the bear out. That was next to the last bear I killed, and the last one was not at all exciting.
I have personally helped to kill as many as six bears in a day and I could fill a book with my encounters, but those days are over and the hardfought battles with Indians and bears are over and all we can do is to live them over in memory. I still have my old bear knife, a reminder of the thrilling experiences of the days when our country was not so secure and peaceful as now. But it is gratifying to know that the security and peace we now possess is at the cost of the sacrifices and perseverance of the early pioneers.
Together we can continue to build the best FREE Genealogy sites on the Web.