The following is an article published in August, 1924 on
pages 8 through 11
A Bandera County Tragedy By J. Marvin Hunter
During the days of the Civil War, Bandera
County was the scene of several tragedies, the most prominent of which
was the execution of eight men one night in the summer of 1863, on Julian
Creek, four miles east of this town. There are no living witnesses to this
tragedy -- at least, if they are living they have kept silent for many,
many years. But living in Bandera County today are two or three men who
remember the circumstances, and who assisted in giving the victims decent
burial, and it is from these men that I get the information from which
to weave the story of a crime for which the perpetrators were never brought
to the bar of justice.
When Texas seceded from the Union, old Camp
Verde, 12 miles north of Bandera, was
occupied by the Confederate forces. First a frontier battalion was
organized for protection against the Indians, and this was directed from
Camp Verde. Later, Confederate soldiers were stationed at this well known
post, where Gen. Lee, Gen. Albert Sidney Johnston and other notables had
at previous times been in command. While Lawhon's company was stationed
at Camp Verde in 1863, it became known that a small party of supposed "bushwhackers"
were passing through the country en route to Mexico to avoid conscription.
There were eight men and one boy in the party, and it became known that
they were from Florence, Williamson County. Why they were termed "bush-whackers"
has never been explained, but it is presumed that they had taken part in
certain
bushwhacking operations and had been forced to leave that section.
But be that as it may, the word was carried to Camp Verde and a troop of
25 men under command of Maj. W. J. Alexander immediately started in pursuit.
In the pursuing party were a number of men who were well known to the early
settlers of Bandera County, but after the close of the war they all disappeared,
some making haste to get out of the country.
The small band of nine men passed through
Bandera several days before the soldiers took up their pursuit. They were
well mounted, well armed and well provisioned and made no secret of their
destination, saying that they were leaving the country because they did
not care to become involved in the strife between the States, and when
it was over they expected to return and take up their residence in Williamson
County again, where some of them had families and homes. They seemed quiet
and peaceable and paid for everything they secured in Bandera, and went
on their way.
Several days afterward Maj. Alexander and
his men came through Bandera, on trail of the men, and went from here to
Hondo. Picking up the trail there, they followed it to Squirrel Creek,
some 10 miles beyond Hondo, where they discovered the men they were seeking
in camp. They had finished their noonday meal, and were quietly resting,
some lounging around and talking, others attending to the stock, not suspecting
that they were being pursued and at that very moment in danger of being
captured. Approaching under cover within a very short distance of where
the men were camped, Maj. Alexander stepped out into an opening and, swinging
his saber over his head, called upon
them to surrender, telling them he had them surrounded and there
was no chance for escape, and if they would quietly submit he would pledge
his word that they should have a fair trial by court-martial at Camp Verde.
The little party of nine promptly yielded
up their arms, and were then forced to saddle their horses and immediately
start back toward Camp Verde. All went evenly enough until the second night
on the return trip, when, while in camp on the Julian some of Alexander's
men wanted to hang the prisoners.
Some of the party refused to have any thing
to do with the execution, but some were determined to put the prisoners
out of the way, and accordingly marched them out some distance from camp
and hung them one by one. A hair rope was used in hanging these men, and
each one died by strangulation, being drawn up until choked to death. When
life was extinct the victim was let down, and the rope cut, leaving the
noose still about his neck. Bill Sawyer, one of the victims begged to be
shot, saying he preferred that manner of death to being hung. His wish
was granted, and some one in the party fired a rifle at him which only
produced a flesh wound on his arm. Sawyer fell, but when it was found that
he had not been fatally shot, another man placed the muzzle of his gun
against the fallen man and shot him through the body with a full charge,
leaving the ramrod in the gun, which
went through him and into the ground. He was thus found the next
day. They boy in the party, a lad about 16 years old, is supposed to have
escaped, but he, too, may have been murdered, as he was never heard of
again.
After completing their work, the men who
had participated in this crime (those who refused to have a hand in it
having passed on) came to Bandera the next morning and proceeded on to
Camp Verde without delay, some of the party hinting to citizens that they
had rid the country of some more bushwhackers. Alexander's men had their
victims' horses, saddles, bedding, clothing and shoes.
Joseph H. Poor, who lived on the West Verde,
was camped near the place of execution, and the next morning he went out
to look for his horses and came upon the bodies just as Alexander's men
left them. He hastened to Bandera and notified the authorities and Justice
of the Peace O. B. Miles, Robert Ballentyne, George Hay, Amasa Clark, John
Pyka and a number of others went down there to investigate. They found
seven of the men had been hanged until dead, and the eighth had been shot
through with a ramrod, as stated. George Hay says he pulled the ramrod
out of the body. An inquest was held, and the verdict rendered as follows:
"We the jury, find that these men (giving their names) were killed by Maj.
W. J. Alexander's company." A grave was opened
and the bodies of the eight unfortunate men were rolled into it
and covered up. Many years later a tombstone was erected over the grave,
and on this tombstone appears the names of the men who were murdered while
prisoners, who had been given a sacred pledge that they would be given
just treatment if they surrendered.
How do we know these things? There were
men in Maj. Alexander's party who refused to countenance the execution
of helpless prisoners, and months afterward they talked freely of the occurrence,
telling all particulars, and even giving the names of the men who participated.
This tragedy occurred in 1863, but retribution usually follows such crimes,
and after the war ended and while E. J. Davis was Governor of Texas, district
judges all over the State were instructed to charge their respective grand
juries to investigate such matters. G. H. Noonan, a good man and true,
was judge of this district at that time, and he directed the grand jury
of this county to thoroughly investigate the hanging of these men, with
the result that as soon as it became known that the strong arm of the law
was reaching out, there was a hasty departure by some for a more congenial
climate.
This was in 1866.
The grand jury indicted W. J. Alexander
et al for murder and highway robbery, and for want of service the case
was continued on the docket from term to term, so the records show. Maj.Alexander
had disappeared. Not one of the men charged in the indictment was ever
arrested. One of them, it is said, was killed at New Braunfels by offers
while resisting arrest. More than half a century has passed since that
stain was placed on Bandera County's history, and all who took part in
it are supposed to be dead. But it is said that the men who urged the execution
of those prisoners and carried it out were not citizens of the county.
The court records may reveal their names, if search is made for they were
indicted by the grand jury in 1866. The names of their victims are: C.
J. Sawyer, W. M. Sawyer, George Thayer, William Shumake, Jack Whitmire,
Jake Kyle,John Smart and a Mr. Vanwinkle.
George Hay, who is now in his 88th year,
and still quite active, in discussing this crime, said:
"I have seen many foul crimes in my time,
but this was the most revolting that I ever knew. A party of us went out
from Bandera as soon as we learned of the occurrence and found the bodies
of those unfortunate men lying just as they had been cut down, pieces of
the horsehair rope around each man's neck. They had all been strangled
to death by the rope being placed over a limb and drawn up, possibly by
somebody on horseback. One man, Bill Sawyer, was laying face down, shot
through with a wooden ramrod, which had passed entirely through his body
and penetrated into the ground for at least 10 or 12 inches. It was with
great difficulty that I drew out this ramrod.
Alexander's party passed through Bandera about 8 o'clock one Sunday
morning, and in just a little while Joseph Poor came with the news that
he had found some murdered men down on the Julian. We buried them as best
we could, and in giving our verdict at the inquest we definitely placed
the blame on Alexander's men, some of whom I knew, but they are all dead
now."
Amasa Clark one of the first settlers here,
and who is now in his 96th year, active and full of life,clearly remembers
the time when this tragedy was enacted, and when questioned about it a
few days ago was very emphatic in his denunciation of the perpetrators.
His statement follows:
"Oh, yes, I remember the hanging of the Sawyers
and those other men. It was an outrage. They were murdered -- yes murdered
in cold blood. Deliberately murdered without being given a chance for their
lives. I knew all of the circumstances, and when Mr. Poor brought word
to Bandera that he had found their bodies Mr. Daniel Rugh asked me to go
with him down there. When we arrived there a grewsome sight met our gaze.
Some had been partly stripped. I heard afterward that some of the men who
took part in the hanging had worn the clothes of their victims while passing
through Bandera. There was a report that some of them gambled for the clothing
the night of the murder, but I cannot vouch for this statement. This crime
created a great deal of indignation here, but the citizens were powerless
to do anything. The murdered men were strangers, peaceably passing through
the country. They had committed no crime that I know of and should not
have been molested. After the
war diligent efforts were made to apprehend the guilty ones and
bring them to justice, but without success. I knew several of them, but
as soon as they were mustered out of the Confederate service, and before
the civil courts were in good running order, they left the country. An
attempt was made by New Braunfels officers to arrest one of these men on
warrant from Bandera County, but he resisted arrest and was killed. Now,
I do not charge this crime to Confederate soldiers. I do not believe a
true Confederate would be guilty of such a heinous offense as deliberately
putting to death an enemy without giving him every chance the law gives
a man. I have lived in the South ever since I returned from my service
in the Mexican War, in 1848, and I loved the South and the cause she
fought for. I know the rules of warfare and how prisoners should
be treated. Sawyer and his men were not treated as prisoners of war. They
were hung without a trial, and it seems to me that robbery was the sole
motive that prompted their execution. This all happened years ago, but
it made such a lasting impression that I will never forget it, and have
many times wished to see the guilty ones brought before the courts and
made to pay the penalty for their crime."
John Pyka, another highly respected citizen
of Bandera, gave his version of this sad affair as follows:
"At that time I was just a lad, large enough,
however, to think I was about grown, and I distinctly remember when Mr.
Joseph Poor came and notified us that he had seen the body of a man on
the Julian with arrows sticking in him and he thought Indians were in the
country. Mr. Poor lived on the West Verde, but was camped near the scene
of the crime, and was out looking for his horses that had strayed off from
camp when he came upon the bodies. He did not take time to investigate,
but came right on to Bandera and notified the authorities. I went out with
the crowd to the place, and we found seven of the men had been hung and
one had been shot through with a ramrod. It was an awful spectacle. No,
I do not think these men had been stripped of their clothing, because I
remember seeing that the cattle had chewed the sleeve of the coat on one
of the dead men, and if I
remember rightly they were all in full attire. Their pockets were
empty, showing that they had been robbed. A 16-year old boy that was captured
with the men was spared for the time being, I understand, and was taken
up about Fredericksburg, but as he was never heard of again, it is supposed
that he, too was killed. I knew some of the men who had a hand in the hanging,
but they left the country when investigation started. I think all of the
participants are dead now, for it has been a long time ago since all this
happened.
"We dug a shallow grave, laid the dead men
into it, spread blankets over them, and covered them up the best we could
with dirt and stones to keep the wolves from getting to the bodies. I do
not know of any person now living who was present at the time except myself,
George Hay and Amasa Clark. There may be others, but I do not remember."
The spreading oak to which these men were
hung is still standing, a grim sentinel on a hillside, gnarled and knotted
with age, a silent witness on the scene. Nearby, in a beautiful glade,
is the shallow grave which contains the bones of the strangers who were
the victims of a hellish plot. Over the grave stands a tombstone, placed
there by citizens of the country who were familiar with the details of
the murders. On this tombstone is inscribed the following: "C. J. Sawyer,
W. M. Sawyer, George Thayre, William Shumake, Jack Whitmire, Jake Kyle,
John Smart, Mr. Van Winkle, Died July 25, 1863. Remember, friends, as you
pass by; as you are now, so once was I,As I am now, you soon will be; prepare
for death and follow me." Mutely this monument stands as the years roll
by, in an out-of-the-way place, on land belonging to Frank Pyke. In its
seclusion the grave is never disturbed, while in the springtime wild flowers
grow and bloom over the mound, song
birds make melody in the nearby trees and the soft breezes that
blow through the branches chant a requiem to the departed souls.