This story is written as it was
told years later by Martha Lopp Price to her granddaughter, Mr. Lucille Price
Ramsey.
“When we first settled in our Texas home, all was peaceful until the spring of 1857,
when a drunken white man killed a Comanche Indian in Loving Valley,
just a few miles from our house. This
incident angered the Indians and their Chief demanded the life of the white
man, stating that if his demand was not granted, he would take ten white scalps
to avenge the death of his one warrior.”
“‘There may or may not have been
justification for the killing. At any
rate, the white man was not delivered to the chief for execution and soon
thereafter the Comanches went on the warpath.
At this time, few white families lived on the frontier and those that
did were miles apart, with no adequate protection against Indian attacks. The Comanche tribe ruled this part of Texas and outnumbered
the white people tremendously. Bands of
marauding Indians mounted on fleet mustang ponies began roaming a wide area,
spying out and killing settlers who traveled alone.”
“Later, whole families were
attacked, including the Mason and Cambreen families. Mr. Savage, our near neighbor, was brutally
murdered while his family stood by horror stricken and helpless. After plundering the house and barn, the
Indians made the Savage children captives.
They tied one child to the back of a wild mustang pony. There was a gentle horse on the place, which the
children had been riding. A young Indian
took a fancy to the horse and mounted it.
The horse, never known to run away, bolted with the young Indian
clinging to its back and mane, and racing wildly across the prairie, passed
under a tree with a low protruding limb.
The limb caught and jerked off the Indian’s head. Later, two of the Savage children were
rescued by a Negro named Johnson, formerly a slave of Col. M. T. Johnson.”
“For years there was continual
warfare between the white and the red man.
Another neighbor, William Youngblood, was pounced upon, killed and
scalped while alone in the woods, splitting rails. My father and Uncle Sim Ritchie, encountered
this same murderous band of Indians and fought them off until rescued by the
Rangers who had been trailing them.”
“An uncle, John Lopp, was killed
near Beeman’s place, about five miles north of Weatherford. His name is engraved on the memorial
dedicated to the pioneers by Parker
County citizens. (An account of this is given in Wilbarger’s
“Indian Depredations of Texas”).
“For better protection against the
Indians, Father moved our family near to a government fort, garrisoned by U.S.
soldiers. This fort, built on the banks
of the Trinity River, was named Fort Worth in honor of William Jenkins Worth, a
commander of American forces during the Mexican War of 1846. Here we remained until 1866, when we moved
fifteen miles north of the fort. Father
built a log cabin home and cleared land for cultivation.”
“Times were hard indeed. Confederate money had depreciated and gold
was out of circulation. Some folks
hoarded and buried their gold. Our
family managed to get along without going hungry. We raised garden stuff, some wheat and corn
and a few chickens. An old water wheel
mill ground our corn. Meat was no
problem. There was plenty of wild game
consisting of deer, antelope, turkey and prairie chickens. Coffee and sugar came from New Orleans.
The sugar was brown and unrefined.
There was no white sugar.
Finally, we couldn’t get brown sugar and had to substitute molasses. Sometimes we boiled the molasses down until it
sugared. This we used for all
sweetening. Soda, we made from a
homemade ash hopper. From salt springs
we hauled water which was boiled in huge kettles until it crystallized through
evaporation and cooling.”
“With the aid of her children,
Mother spun and wove cloth for our clothing. Little attention was paid to
style, but we were particular about looking neat and being comfortable.”
“As for social activities, they
were few and far between. Pioneer life
was a saga of hard work from morning to night, and we had to retire early to
rest our tired bodies. Our
get-to-gethers were meetings at the church, school houses or an occasional
quilting bee. People came from miles
around to attend the quilting bees. We
quilted all day and danced all night.
Young and old came, bringing baskets of food which we ate with keen
relish. There were no finicky appetites among
the pioneers. Dancing, when I was a
young woman, was a wholesome pastime.
Everybody danced, including members of the church.”
“Weddings were also big events,
followed by feasting and dancing at the bride’s or bridegroom’s parents
home. Fiddlers furnished the music on
these occasions, playing the popular tunes of the times.”
“The only express mail route from
east to west passed within eight miles of our home. The mail station was near the boundary line
between Tarrant and Denton
Counties. I remember a knock on our door one cold
winter’s night. It was the pony express
rider who had lost his way in a snowstorm.
My husband gave him directions that soon put him back on his route.”
“The first church built was at Mt. Gilead,
a small community five miles east of our home.
This also was the first church built in what is now Tarrant County. We had services there about once a month.”
“When we first settled here, we did
our trading at Elizabethtown, a small settlement
on Elizabeth Creek.”