I'd guess most folks reading this far ain't interested in reading about slavery so bear with me. For my own part, posting this stuff firms up what I myself have read about this era, basically I learn as I write.
But, slavery was a major part of the Texas of this era, and it is incomplete to present the exploits of say, a truly dynamic man like John Henry Moore, author of one of the larger feats of arms ever inflicted upon any Indians (let alone Comanches), without exploring the economy wherein he made his fortune.
The short of it is that for every slave fortunate enough to have lived the relatively equal existance of a Bose Ikard, there must have been several hundred condemned to a life of unremitting and monotonous hard labor in the fields. Probably nowhere more true than in cotton country, where the role of an enslaved negro came closest to that of being mere agricultural machinery.
Fully understanding THAT shedding light on why some of them chanced such enormous odds to get free. The biggest problem for slaveowners in Texas being, as it had been for Georgia planters adjacent to Florida Seminole country, the frequency of so much of their capital investment hoofing it for freedom in Mexico. Olmstead reporting that factor alone accounting for the lesser number of slaves one encountered in bondage the closer one came to the Border.
Anyhoo, before returning to the frontier per se, an episode in Houston, late spring/early summer of 1858, as recorded by Olmstead. First the town itself, interesting in its own light...
Houston... shows many agreeable signs of the wealth accumulated, in homelike, retired residences, its large and good hotel, its well-supplied shops, and its shaded streets. The principal thoroughfare, opening from the steamboat landing, is the busiest we saw in Texas.
Near the bayou are extensive cotton-sheds and huge exposed piles of bales... There are several neat churches, a theatre (within the walls of a sawmill), and a most remarkable number of showy bar rooms and gambling saloons. A poster announced that "the cock-pit is open every night, and on Saturday nights five fights will come of for a stake of $100."
A curious feature in the town is the appearance of small cisterns of tar,in which long-handled dippers are floating, at the edge of the sidewalk, at the front of each store. This is for the use of the swarming wagoners...
The greater part of the small tradesmen and mechanics in the town are German...
There is a prominent slave-mart in town, which held a large lot of likely-looking negroes awaiting purchasers. In the windows of shops, and on the doors and columns of the hotel, were many written advertisements headed, " A likely negro girl for sale. " " Two negroes for sale. " " Twenty negro boys for sale. "...
And the incident...
Sitting, one morning of our stay, upon the gallery of our hotel, we witnessed a revolting scene. A tall, jet black negro came up, leading by a rope a downcast mulatto, whose hands were lashed by a cord to his waist, and whose face was horribly dripping with blood. The wounded man crouched and leaned for support against one of the columns of the gallery..
"What's the matter with that boy?" asked a smoking lounger.
"I run a fork into his face." answered the negro.
"What are his hands tied for?"
"He's a runaway, sir."
"Did you catch him?"
"Yes, sir. he was hiding in the hay-loft, and when I went to throw up some hay to the horses, I pushed the fork down into the mow and it struck something hard. I didn't know what it was and I pushed hard, and gave it a turn, and then he hollered and I took it out."
"What do you bring him here for?"
"Come for the key of the jail, sir, to lock him up."
"What!" said another, "one darkey catch another darkey? Don't believe that story."
"Oh yes Mass'r, I tell for true. He was down in our hay-loft, and so you see when I stab him, I have to catch him."
"Why, he's hurt bad isn't he?"
"Yes, he says I pushed through the bones."
"Who's n&gger is he?"
"He says he belongs to Mass'r Frost, sir, on the Brazos."
The key was soon brought, and the negro lead the mulatto away to jail. He seemed sick and faint, and walked away limping and crouching, as if he had received other injuries than those on his face. The bystanders remarked that thhe negro had not probably told the whole story.
We afterwards happened to see a gentleman on horseback, and smoking, leading by a long rope through the deep mud, out into the country, the poor mulatto, still limping and crouching, his hands manacled, and his arms pinioned.
Interesting that one guy one the scene found it improbable that one slave would catch another. IIRC it was not uncommon for slaves to render aid and assistance to passing runaways.
Birdwatcher
