Original Work The Stuarts of Texas

“What I’m gonna need is ten pounds of jerky, about five pounds of hardtack, a pound of coffee, and a little sugar tied up in a single bag. Something like a gunny sack. Can you manage that? Good, everybody except you on the left, and you holding down Loud Mouth lay flat on the ground. Now, you on the left get the supplies I asked for, and when you’ve done that find me some salve and laudinum for that mule Mr Loud Mouth was beating on. Make it snappy.” Said the soft voiced Glass.

Glass moved back near the mule where he noticed the animal watching the proceedings intently. Smart animal thought Glass. Moving up in a submissive slouch and speaking to the mule with a soft voice, Glass spoke gently to him and watched the ears. At first the ears were laid back flat and animal showed extreme anger. Being about 16hh tall, and rock solid, Glass rightly figured that he was one dangerous animal right now. The mule’s eyes began to show curiosity and finally allowed Glass to tough his mouth and scratch his chin. This mule had been bred from a saddle horse of some type and was built for running or traveling, not pulling wagon or plow.

“How come you dumbass Yankees got this animal pulling freight when he should have been a cav mount?” Glass inquired.

“He couldn’t be handled as he was used to being babied around by that girl we took him from. Besides, we were short a mule, so…” replied one of the union men.

“Where in Tennessee did y’all get him? Asked Glass

“Near the Northern Border someplace, not sure though.” Came the reply.

“Man, that’s over 200 miles from here at least, and I can’t go that far outa my way to return him.” Said Glass. “Guess I’ll just have to let him go. Instead and hope he finds his way home.”

“That’s gonna make for an uneven team, and the wagon will be harder to pull.” Said the man.

“Well then, guess I’ll just have to let them all go since that wouldn’t be fair to the other mules, and y’all can’t be trusted to properly handle livestock.” Said Glass.

Looking around, David noticed a couple of rifles leaning up against one of the wagons. “Without making any move towards them, what kind of rifles are over there?” Asked Glass.

“One of them is a .44 Henry, and the other is an Enfield with one of them fancy new fangled rifle scopes. We were going to try them out tomorrow morning before we left here. They’re supposed to be delivered to the armory in Houston.”

Glass pondered this for a moment and asked if they carried any ammunition for the rifles, and the answer was yes. “”How many rifles and how much ammunition?”

“Ten Enfields, and twenty five Henrys, with five hundred Enfield rounds and a thousand rounds for the Henrys, and a couple of small rifle powder barrels .” Came the reply.

“Well, I’ll take one each of the rifles, one hundred Enfield rounds, and five hundred for the Henry.” Said David.

“The Colonel ain’t gonna like this at all.” Said the man.

“I Expect he ain’t gonna like me shooting Mr Loud Mouth, and running off all of your mules either.”said Glass with a smile.

“No, I spect he won’t.” Replied the union man.

The salve and Laudinum produced along with the rifles and supplies, and David applied the medications to the mules back, gently massaging it in. Then having accomplished his task removed the halter, and freed the animal.

 

Mules aren't lazy nor stubborn, what they are is smart enough not to do harm to themselves by doing every fool thing humans demand of them...unlike a horse.

 

We used to own mules. We found a few that would turn mean for no apparent reason. For the most part, make them your buddy, and things work better.

Jim

 

The Confederacy paid $1000 in GOLD (or a couple of bales of cotton) for each Whitworth rifle, including the scope and bullets! The Enfield rifles cost about $25! The South imported fewer than 200 Whitworths during the War.

 

When Glass turned his full attention to the union men, the mule turned around and placed his head on Glass’ shoulder and snuggled in. Glass placed the shotgun under his right arm and reaching up, began rubbing the mule’s head, scratching ears, and patted the neck.

“All right, you on the right, turn the rest of the mules loose and scatter them. Stay in clear visible line of sight, or I will shoot you without warning.” Said David in a tone less voice.

As the remuda was scattered Glass urged the mule to follow the rest of the herd, but the mule refused to move, preferring to stay by Glass.

“Put a tourniquet on Loud Mouth’s leg and then use that rope over there on the wagon to tie up everybody else. I’ll tie you up last. You should be able to get loose by morning some time, but by then I will be miles away. And while you’re at it, go through everyone’s pockets and bring me all the money.”

“We just got paid, and if you take all the money, we’ll be broke ‘till the end of the month.” The man protested.

“Well, I reckon that you’ll be stealing everything you can get your hands on anyways, so it’s not gonna hurt a thing if I get some needed traveling money” David drawled with a smile. “What is the mule’s name by the way?”

“The folks we got him from called him Socrates. Hell of a name for a mule.”

With an amused look David asked; “Do you know who Socrates was?”

“Some English knight or something like that. Musta been a friend of King George.”

“I am at times simply amazed at the depth and success of the Northern educational system.” Said David with a shake of his head.

“Well you shouldn’t be, we have public schools and quite a few of us know how to read and write unlike you ignorant Rebs.”

“Interesting, can you write in cursive?” David asked.

“No, I never studied no furrin languages, just American.”

Suppressing a smile, David nodded his head and said “I stand chastised.”

By this time the man had accomplished his task and then David secured him. Glass took time to go over the Henry carbine then load it. “Not a bad little rifle, it’s gonna be right helpful where I’m going. Gentlemen, get a good night’s rest and I hope you have a great day tomorrow.” David said with a small laugh.

Turning back into the woods, with the mule trailing behind, Glass disappeared into the woods Upon reaching the small temporary camp, Glass pulled up stakes and began putting distance between himself and the subjugated Yankees. Turning toward the east, Glass found some soft ground where he could lay a trail and rode for a couple of miles when he found a rock ledge that turned northward. Taking the ledge until he found firmer ground Glass continued northward for an hour, then turned back west toward Texas. He rode until the sky began showing some light from the east, then stopped in a small grove of trees. The dun and mule were both relaxed and showed no particular interest in the surrounding area.

David secured both animals and scouted several hundred yards around the site and discovering no signs of activity except for a farmer going about his daily routine, he then went back to the mounts and tying hobbles on the dun loosed them for grazing. Socrates refused to leave his side, so David laced down for a nap. He mumbled never studied no furrin languages with a smile then drifted off to sleep.

 

David awoke close to 11:00 am. Listening closely to his surroundings, he noticed plenty of bird and insect activity. The dun and mule were grazing peacefully, with no alarm or interest in the immediate area other than grass. David had learned to trust the instincts and senses of his prairie bred mustang. More than once had his equines saved him from unwanted and unexpected dangerous company, he had learned to trust them. Father, you sure did right by us in gifting dogs, donkeys, and horses to us. Thank you, And please give me your divine protection today, and guide me safely home to Texas where I belong. In Christ’s name, Amen.

David stretched, which drew the immediate attention of Socrates who eased over to say good morning and begin pushing David with his nose to get up and get moving. Reaching up, David began to rub up between the animals ears and then behind them. “Boy, you are an attention hog aren’t you?” He muttered. The Dun noticing the proceedings, crow hopped over so as to not be left out.

After rubbing down both animals and leaving them tied in the trees, he heated water for coffee and jerky broth to soften the hardtack in.
Shaving a piece of jerky into his battered mess kit, he remained alert to the sights and sounds of his environment. No point in getting lazy, things were still just as dangerous now as before. Maybe even worse he thought. The water having come to a boil, he poured most of it into his mess kit and placed it in the small fire. Then, he poured a teaspoon of Arbuckle's coffee into the cup containing the leftover water letting it steep for a few minutes. Stirring the broth and finding it about right, he placed two hardtack inside and set it aside also. In five minutes, he had enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. Using a little water from his canteen to rinse out the tin cup and mess kit David drank the liquid, and then wiped both down with the cloth flour sack he used for a kitchen towel.Within ten minutes, he had fed his animals a piece of hardtack each, saddled up and began moving westward stopping every few minutes to listen for troop movements and other activity. Though not tied, Socrates continued to follow and come alongside for the occasional ear scratching.

Almost two hours into his trip, David and the dun heard a metallic tink and came to a halt as did Socrates. Sitting still for several minutes, Glass knew that someone was near but being quiet. Was it an enemy or some neutral local holding still? Whoever moved first might well die or at least have unnecessary problems. Then his horse, growing impatient stamped his foot.


Damn! David thought. Turning to Socrates, he hissed “Get him!” And the mule exploded into action braying and running hard toward the noise. A man began yelling for help and swearing at the mule.

 

An attack mule?!

 

We had one! Finally had to get rid of her as she was a danger to non-family. She had been free roaming like the dogs for a few years, but then she got too mean. Even tried to kick me in the head when I wouldn’t let her hog all the grain for the horses.

 

Jim? Are you still there? HELLO!

 

Yeah, still here. Too busy right now, but am looking forward to writing more.

I was also thinking of a short story line where a good with his rifle country boy was being chased by some cartel members because he witnessed something he should not have seen. Just low-tech shooting, no Helios or the like. Something like Bob Lee Swagger might do.

 

Waiting a few seconds to see how the scene played out, David kicked his horse into a run as he dropped the reins onto the saddle horn and began guiding his mount with his feet and unlimbered both Remington revolvers and thundered into the small clearing to find that Socrates had treed an old man and was attempting to dislodge his victim. Seeing that the man was an older civilian, and probably a farmer, David called off Socrates and dismounted to examine the rifle the man had dropped. Socrates kept close watch on the man as David walked over to the treed man.

“Good Morning!” Said David with a grin.
“It might be a good one to you, but it sure ain’t to me! That damned mule might near killed me! I was barely able to make it up this tree before that big devil reached me. Spat out the irate old gentleman. Hell of a thing, a man can’t go hunting on his own land without the damned Yankees trying to hang me, and mules trying to stomp me into the dirt!”

“Well, I’m right sorry about that, I hate to harass an honest man about his business, but I’ve been dodging Yankee patrols for over a week now, and when I heard your rifle get cocked I naturally figured the worst.” Said David.

“Well, I guess that’s understandable, we’re all having to be even more careful nowadays. Sure is disappointing though, I had a nice rabbit in my sights that would have made a good supper. “ said the old man with a disappointed shake of his head.

“Grub kinds scarce Lately?”

“Yup! I didn’t have much left as it was, but the Yankees took what little corn and oats I had left, claiming if they didn’t get it, then Rebs would. Kinda hard to eat with two armies in the field.”

“I don’t have much, but I’ll split it with you if you don’t mind eating Yankee hard tack and jerky.” David then explained how he came by the food and the old man hooted with laughter.

“Young man, I’d be proud to indulge in some ill gotten gains considering how much I’ve lost lately. Let’s head over to my house where we can eat proper.”

“Thank you sir, to whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“Best not laugh but my name is Brown, Tim Brown, and yes I’m a farmer. “ said Brown as he stared David straight in the eye.

“I’d not dream of insulting another gentleman, lead the way sir.

Arriving at the farm house David and Tim cooked up a similar meal to his previous breakfast, and with some added Lambs Quarter both men had plenty to eat. They shared some of David’s whiskey and discussed the current situation they were both in. Finding that there was a store five miles away in town the two discussed how best to purchase some food and it was decided that they would both ride near to town and that Brown would walk in the rest of the way and make a stealthy purchase. David provided the liberated funds required for the transaction, and Brown did the deed. Normally, there would have been nothing to purchase, but a dishonest Quartermaster had been selling off army rations for exorbitant amounts of cash intending on making a fortune off the Northern victory. It looked like he would succeed.

Returning to the farm, the men ate and rested up for a few days.

 

On day three, Glass had been noticing Tim Brown fidgeting around as something was on his mind. I have to wonder what it is worrying the old fellow. Is he thinking of turning me in, or perhaps that my presence is a threat to him? Glass thought.

Tim, I’ve been watching you worry like something heavy is on your mind. Is there any way I can help? Do I need to leave today?
Looking surprised, the old man shook his head and said ‘Nothing like that! I’ve been greatful for the company, but it’s something I heard in town and was worrying about whether I should mention it to you.”

Best to get it out in the open, things work best thataway. Replied David.

Well, while I was there, I overheard a couple of them drunk Yankees discussing one of their army payrolls coming thru town carrying next months pay for the infantry company occupying this part of the country. I’ve got to wonder if it is a set up for some local to get shot trying to get payback from them. It would be just like them to try something like that. I hadn’t mention it to anyone, not even you since it could be a trap or at least cause Southerners a lot more hardship than we already have. And we sure have more than enough to go around!

Did they mention how much money they carried? Gold or cash?

They said around five thousand as it covered payroll and costs for operations as needed. Some of it is gold, but I don’t have any idea how much.

That’s interesting remarked David. Greenbacks would be a lot lighter to haul, but some have learned the hard way that gold is always better.

The older man glared and said Now don’t you be getting any ideas! You’ll get yourself shot plumb full of holes, and that ain’t gonna do your folks back home any good at all! Like as not there will be a lot of work needed on that ranch of yours, providing the blue bellies haven’t stole it. I know it’ll be stripped clean of animals and anything useful. They’ll be needing you!

Don’t be worried about me , I’ve been shot at enough to last me a lifetime. Besides, I’ve a notion that my old buddies the Comanche have missed me and our shooting and riding contests greatly. No doubt they have a warm welcome planned for me, dancing girls, firewater, roasted buffalo, the whole works. Smiled David.

Hmmp! Grunted the old man. I got me a notion you better be as good as most Texans with them pistols you’re carrying. Never seen a man armed with four on him and two Horse Pistols on his saddle. Them Missouri boys pack four or more pistols, and that is a lotta shooting!

Well, I miss a lot, that is why I have to carry so many.

Pardon me if I don’t agree with you, you would’nt be here now if you was a poor shot. I don’t think you done much missing, and would hate to be in front of ya when you unlimbered a loaded pair. What did you use on them Comanche before the war?

I carried a pair of .36 Navies, accurate and economical as sometimes it’s hard to keep them properly fed. An uncle gave me the Dragoons Colts as they had more power if needed. I took the Remingtons off a couple of Yankee officers since they didn’t need them any longer. Good guns and they never jam. My Colts did occasionally until my Commanding Officer had his gunsmith tune them up and fill in the hammer gaps with silver solder. Stopped those cap sucking jams completely.

Now, how many soldiers are supposed to be escorting that money?

 

A lot of that went on after the War! It wasn't just the James' and Youngers holding up banks, trains and US Army payrolls. The was a man here in northwestern Alabama, name of Frank Perry. He had been a Confederate soldier from east Tennesse (might have been unhealthy to return home). He was the foreman on the Key Plantation for several years after the War, making a dollar a day plus a cabin and eating his meals on the back porch of the Big House. One day, Mr. Key told him that he was deep in debt and would have to sell the plantation, but that he would recommend him to the new owner. Mr. Perry asked what the "asking price" was and Mr. Key said, $60,000 lock, stock and barrel! As the story goes, Mr. Perry paid CASH then and there, and informed Mr. Key that tonight he would be eating supper in the dining room, with the family. In the years that followed Mr. Perry purchased most of the farmland worth owning in the "Bend of the River" and became very wealthy.
Frank Perry Jr., the son of Frank Perry, was once asked where and how his father came by his money. His answer," I don't know, but I'm sure that it wasn't honest". Frank Perry jr. was drunk at the time, so i believe him.
P.S. Frank Perry Jr. and his wife never had any children. When my father was about 5 years-old, Frank Perry Jr, offered to "buy" him from my grandfather and raise him as his own. However, my grandfather refused because my father was an only son, which was fortunate for me because otherwise he wouldn't have been weighing cotton in that field where he met my mother years later.

 

Very interesting Wildbilly. I like those historical notes that only individuals have.

My paternal grandmother had a story from her GM whose family had been in Texas since 1830+ . Seems a union cavalry patrol came by the ranch west of Austin near Bull Creek one day. They had previously stripped everything including food from their ranch and all others nearby, and all they had left was a “good blooded” pregnant mare that the Yankees hadn’t bothered with on the previous trip. On this trip the mare had a nursing horse colt. Wanting another mount they took the mare in spite of protests that the colt would starve. When the cav left with the mare, the colt followed, and shortly thereafter a pistol shot was heard. The husband walked down the road and found the colt shot in the head as he was too much bother for these hero’s to deal with. With no food, they ate the colt.

Comanches were raiding again, and my GrGr GM’s family were left helpless having been disarmed of all weapons. Of course the army was of no help/protection at all. That they didn’t starve to death or get murdered by the Comanche was a miracle of God.

And they wonder why Wes Hardin and others who killed union soldiers after the war were heroes and no one would report them. Northern city white trash weren’t very popular at that time.

 

Reminds me of a story told to me by a comrade in re-enacting, it seems that his ancestors had live on Sand Mountain in Alabama, and yes, it's as poor as it sounds. His 4x grandfather had been killed fighting for the South and it was just his 4x grandmother and the children on the farm when the Yankee cavalry came raiding. Between the two armies and the Buggers (outlaws) there was nothing left but a blind mule, which the Yankees shot dead in the yard. My friend's 3x grandfather told how they ate that mule and using hand tools scratched up enough ground to raise some corn, beans and greens to survive. Many many years later that old man told my friend," Grandson, grandson, I'm close to a hundred years old, but I would walk to Chattanooga and back to kill me just one Yankee!"! The Yankees wonder why we can't let it go!

 

When one knows the history NOT covered in school, a different perspective will be evident.

I am sure that there were a lot of ghost gardens scattered about in those days.

Jim

 

Glass found a good place to watch the Union encampment far enough away to keep the camp fire glow from reflecting on his blackened face yet see what he needed to. Hoping to not draw any undue attention to the payroll wagon, it was decked out like a normal beat up supply wagon and only had two cavalry soldiers in escort, not heavily armed, but with standard weapons. A low key operation. Very sneaky thought Glass. One shotgun armed soldier was on guard duty at all times and very alert. I wonder how many payrolls have been taken for them to need to transport the money this way? I think I’m gonna need that money more then them anyway thought Glass.

Glass waited until after 1 AM to make his move. Seeing the guard’s head bobbing off and on, Glass decided that this was a good time to make his move. Holding his slung shot in the right hand, and the double barrel shotgun in his left, Glass moved in slowly and silently as he watched the guard using peripheral vision so the guard would not be alerted to Glass’ presence as some are able to do on occasion . Taking the final step Glass hit the soldier on the back of the head for an instant knock out, but the man’s trigger finger twitched and fired one barrel of the shotgun bringing the whole camp alive.

Fast as he could move, Glass dropped the slung shot, and brought up his shotgun left handed and trained it on the two wagoners one of which was bringing up a pistol. Drop it! Glass yelled, but the man continued to swing his pistol toward Glass, so Glass was forced to give him a load of buckshot in the chest and then swing the shotgun toward the soldier sleeping near the picketed horses. The man was already coming up with his own shotgun so Glass gave him a load of buckshot slamming the man back as his weapon detonated harmlessly into the tree cover above. The final wagoner froze in place paralyzed by the sudden violent gunfire.

Damn! Wish I hadn’t have had to do that. Makes me no better than an armed robber. Murder for money. He thought disgustedly. The folks will sure be proud of me.

“Stay right where you are and don’t move, or I will shoot you as I did the others.” Said Glass. The man nodded slowly, and Glass said “Do what I tell you, and you will live to tell about this. The only thing I want is the money, is it gold or greenbacks? B B B Both replied the man. “Git it down from the wagon and bust it open. Move!”

The wagoneer moved toward the wagon back and begin to lower the wagon loading gate and Glass heard a board creak setting off alarms in his mind. The wagoneer hesitated and stared straight up into the wagon bed above floor height and Glass knew someone was inside probably there as a patrol guard.

More later.

 

It is officially now later!

 

OK, you in the wagon, ease forward and show your empty hands before I see the rest of you! If I see anything that looks like a gun you will die!

The man moved forward slowly exposing his hands first and stopping.

OK, slowly move up and let me see the rest of you, said Glass in a cold voice.

Second Lt. Jones moved out where he could be seen and froze in place. He had been wanting to face one of those Reb cavalrymen and show him what a real soldier could do. Now that he was face to face with something akin to a curly wolf his guts froze up in a not and fear paralyzed him completely. Suddenly, Lt. Jones wanted to do whatever this stone faced killer told him to do.

“Lt. Bluebelly, I get the feeling that you were waiting to take a shot at me unexpected like while I was dealing with the rest of these gents. That don’t seem too neighborly if you know what I mean.”Said Glass in a low cold voice. “Why don’t you just hop your little velvet lined carcass down here while we conduct some business?”

Jones sprang to the ground with surprising agility keeping his hands in the air.
“No Sir, I have no desire to pull a trick like that! It ain’t my money, and you can have all you can haul. Hell, I’ll even help you just please don’t shoot me!”

“Well, its nice to see I can do some business you y’all. Haul them greenbacks out here and let me have a look at ‘em.”

Three cases were pushed off the back of the wagon, and opened up for Glass to examine, which he did with the aid of a lantern.

“Both these cases have new printed money and the small one is full of new minted gold and silver. Just about useless to me as I would be leaving a money trail that would be pretty easy for the Pinkerton to follow. Is there any used bills or older coming in this mess?”

“Yes there is, I helped pack things myself and the used greenbacks are under the new ones in the second case. Most of the gold is new minted, but there are a few hundred dollars in older scratched up gold and silver. Said Jones. “Mighty smart of you to pick the older stuff and avoid leaving an easy trail.” Said Jones in an attempt to suck up to authority as was his nature.

“That’s mighty thoughtful of you Lt. Bluebelly, why don’t y’all just separate out all those bills and coins into piles so I can pick up whatever I feel like carrying away. And after you’re finished, all you enlisted gents get into a line in front of me face down with your hands straight out in front and your ankles crossed. I don’t want anyone to hurt themselves if they get to feeling friskey.”

The men quickly separated the money into the proper piles and laced on the ground as directed.

“You boys do good work and mighty quick too. Lt. Bluebelly, get that lantern off the wagon and hold it over the money so I can get a good look at it. “ Lt. Jones did so and neverously waited to see what Glass would do next.

 

Might be a good idea for Glass to give that new money to them Yankees (you know that they would take it) and let them leave false trails for the Pinkerton agents to follow. The Pinkertons were kinda hit-and-miss back then, some of them knew what they were doing, and some didn't, and a lot of their success was due to luck. During the War the Pinkertons inflated estimates of Confederate troop strength was responsible for a few Confederate victories, several battles not being fought and generally prolonging the war.
P.S. The reason that I know that the Yankees would take the money is twofold, #1-Greed and #2-The low pay for Civil War enlisted men and junior officers.