Early Pioneer Days in Texas
Chapter IX
J. E. Deupree
I was born on November 22, A. D. 1840, in Pickens County, Alabama, where both my parents died during my infancy and childhood.
In 1847 I was brought to Texas with a large company of my near relatives, led by my grandfather, Colonel Nathan Smith, who had served in the Creek War under General Andrew Jackson, and also in the Alabama Legislature. They all settled in Harrison County, near Marshall.
Later, my uncles, Colonel Gid Smith and Dr. J. C. Smith (my guardian) moved to Fannin County, the former in 1851, and the latter in 1853. I first saw Fannin County in 1852, when Dr. Smith sent me and others with a herd of cattle to Colonel Smith, they then being partners in the stock business.
In Fannin County a good part of my youth was spent on the Smith farms on Red River, now owned by John E. Roach and J. E. Spies. During parts of the years 1854-5 I was in the old McKenzie Institute, near Clarksville. In 1856 I went to school to the lamented Ben Fuller in Bonham ; but I was mainly educated in Baylor University, then located at Independence in Washington County, Texas, where I graduated in 1859.
In 1861 I was at the law school in Lebanon, Tenn. When the war broke out and broke up the school, I went on a visit to relatives in Noxube County, Miss., thinking to return home via Mobile, New Orleans and Jefferson. But in Mississippi I found the whole country aflame with excitement over the great impending war. The boys were forming companies, and the pretty girls were giving picnics, and threatening to send hoopskirts to all who failed to join the Southern army. So I soon caught the war fever, and on the urgent solicitations of my gallant cousins, I joined the "Noxube Cavalry," which later became Company G of the First Mississippi Cavalry, on the firm promise from the captain (H. W. Foote) that I should have a transfer if I ever found a Texas company that suited me.
I served with those gallant Mississippi boys twenty months, being with them in the great battles of Bellmont, Shiloh, Corinth. Britton's Lane and many smaller engagements. On January 1st, 1863, I was transferred to a cavalry company in Waul's Texas Legion, which company was from Washington County, and contained several of my old Baylor schoolmates.
I served with this Texas company until June 17, 1863, when, by mistaking foes for friends in the darkness of night, I was captured near Panola, Miss. I was then kept in prison for twenty-three months, most of the time at Alton, 111., and Fort Delaware. This long confinement was by far the most trying part of my war service. I never could feel contented in prison, but kept planning and trying to escape until I finally succeeded.
In one of these efforts I, with five other Texas boys, swam the bay from Fort Delaware to the Delaware shore, on the night of July 1, 1864. I was the only unlucky man in the bunch, as I was re-captured and carried back to the fort, while the others made good their escape and safely rejoined the Southern army. One of this crowd was Ed Welch of Honey Grove, who was killed in one of the last battles of the war. Strange to say, three of these nocturnal swimmers kept together clear across the bay, and, landing in a perfectly nude state, they wended their way southward, hiding by day and marching by night, for there were six who would undertake this dark and dangerous undertaking with the hope of finding friendly shelter among the good Southern people of Maryland. I have never heard how the other two fared en route ; I only know that, like myself, they became separated from the others and that separately they reached the Southern lines. Of the 150 Texans at Fort Delaware, there were only six who would undertake this dark and dangerous swim, and of this six there are now only two alive, viz., Dr. J. C. Loggins of Ennis and myself. For the first time since we parted on that dreadful night at Fort Delaware, I met Dr. Loggins, by agreement, at the Dallas Fair, three years ago; and we sure had a glorious good time, being guests at the elegant and hospitable home of Gen. H. W. Graber, another old Fort Delaware prisoner. While there we had our pictures taken together, and as you have asked for my picture, I send this group, it being the only one I have of convenient size for sending, and as owing to the bad roads I can't tell when I will be able to find an artist. [Reading from left to right in the photo: J. E. Deupree, aged 73 years; J. E. Loggins, aged 69 years; H. W. Graber, age 72 years. Taken on Oct. 18, 1910.]
After the aforesaid swimming episode, I still continued my efforts to escape from Fort Delaware, and finally I succeeded by getting myself exchanged on the name of a dead man, for whose command a special exchange had been arranged. I left Fort Delaware on April 10th, 1865, and on May 10th was exchanged at the mouth of Red River, under the name of E. Wood, of Gordon's Arkansas Regiment. At this time Waul's Legion had already surrendered east of the Mississippi, and as the Western Department had also surrendered when we reached Shreveport, we were simply turned loose and told to go home, which we did at our own expense, and as best we could. I reached home on June 7, 1865, about the same time that the other prisoners whom I had left behind were released from Fort Delaware.
Yes, I knew your good old father well, as did most of the old settlers of Fannin County. "Uncle Wilce," as we called him, was indeed a grand old man. I have met him often in Bonham ; also once at Red River, and at my own home, and at the State meetings of the Texas veterans at Paris and Sherman. He was utterly void of vanity, and was one of the most interesting and impressive men that I ever heard talk. He was much like old Judge Simpson in this respect, and they both reminded me of old Gen. Sam Houston, who I often saw and heard during my school boy days at Baylor University. There was weight and wisdom in their words, love in their hearts, and music in their voices, and hence their hearers were always fond admirers. I never knew your father to loose his temper or urbanity, but he was sure emphatic on the subject of reconstruction. And he could picture to perfection the words, ways and looks of the negroes who once bossed our elections in Bonham; and he would grow warm when talking of the general trend toward the confiscation of our homes, and the destruction of our liberties. He and other old heroes (too many to name here) favored moderation and a reliance on civil measures. They urged us to take the oath, and qualify as voters, and when the militia was forming under E. J. Davis, they told us all to join in, and capture the organization, which we did; and the militia companies of Fannin County were all officered by true Southern men and never could have been used for the oppression of our people.
If I were asked at what time in life I had rendered the most efficient service to my country, I could readily answer that it was during the dark days of reconstruction.
Yes, dear reader, it was the unflinching bravery of the Confederate soldiers, curbed and guided by the cooler judgment of older heads, that rescued our State from carpet-bag rule, and restored popular government throughout the South.
If God did not favor the South during the war, He has certainly done so since, and now we rejoice in the fact that the great American Union is reunited on a firmer, broader, and better basis than ever before.
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