Gibson Indian Attack
The following was sent to me by another Lambeth researcher, thanks David for the information!
Editors Note: The following story was taken from a book written by O.C. Fisher, Texas Congressmen, titled: IT OCCURRED IN KIMBLE AND HOW. The late William Jasper Gibson, mentioned in the story, who died recently at the age of 92, was an uncle of Mrs. Sam White of Leedy.
Charles Lane Gibson, at the age of twenty-five, came to Texas in 1852 from Missouri, and settled on the head of Pecan Creek in the edge of Blanco County, close to Round Mountain. From there the family moved to Cold Springs Creek, twenty miles east of Mason town. Gibson was engaged in the cattle business and there came a severe drought in 1863 and ’64. In 1865 he made a trip up the Llano and found range conditions to be good. Whereupon, he and his brother, William, determined to move and settle on Bear Creek. Lane Gibson owned three yoke of steers and the slow trek soon was under way.
For their new home the Gibson’s picked a shady, timbered spot, only three quarters of a mile below Rance Moore’s ranch headquarters. The two Gibson’s set about hewing logs, making clap board lumber. Corrals were built along with the typical home of the time. The two Gibson’s were 50 yards apart. That placed them in the immediate neighborhood of Rance Moore, Billie Waites and Charlie Jones. And it was but six miles down to where Andrew Jackson Nixon lived. The latter was a next door neighbor of his son James, who had a family, and John New, a son-in-law. The Nixon’s were in the cattle business, did a lot of hunting, and made good frontier neighbors.
Lane Gibson could feel reasonably safe in these surroundings. Neighbors usually joined in bear hunts, and when a wild beef was butchered by one, it was divided with others in the settlement. Gibson was a cautious man and loyal to his family.
Elizabeth Lambeth Gibson, his wife, was a native of Tennessee and a brave, industrious homemaker. She was much sought after by the neighboring ladies because of her skill with the needle and for the further reason that she was unusually adept with the spinning wheel. Her kindly, charming and generous ways made her a popular figure on the frontier. All in all, the Gibson family was a happy one and the new home added zest to their family life and hope for their future well-being.
The cattle that had been moved from their native range in Mason County were not content with the change and many of them soon drifted down the river. In the fall of 1876, Lane Gibson, with his eldest son Lytle and his brother William, made a trip to Loyal Valley for the purpose of branding and marking the calves that were on the range. But Mrs. Gibson was not lonesome with her seven children with her as well as the company of her sister-in-law. Indians never announce their appearances and always strike unexpectedly. However, their devilment was mostly horse stealing by the light at the moon and there was very little danger of being attacked during the daytime, especially in the midst of a settlement. So with the feeling of security in the numbers about her, Mrs. Gibson went busily along with her spinning and sewing for the family. Winter was just around the corner and there was work to be done.
It came to pass on a late October afternoon, as was their custom to do occasionally, the children, Jasper, Lewis and Albert aged twelve, six and five, respectively, went out with their little truck wagon to gather wood. It was a homemade vehicle, the wheels being made of pecan by slicing the trunk of a pecan tree with a cross cut saw. The bed was of carefully hewed boards from trees, and the finished structure turned out to be an object of just pride on the part of the Gibson children. The drift wood was easier to get and there was a lot of that in the creek bottom. Their mother wanted dry, hard wood and they were careful in making the selection. They felt that she would prefer Spanish oak branches, and they carefully culled out the mesquite, as it was not desirable for cooking purposes. At last the wagon was loaded, the ax was stuck down into the wood and the three boys had to heave and puff to pull that load up the bank of Bear Creek. Just as they ascended the creek bank they saw three men coming, galloping bareback to meet them. As they approached…. but let us hear Jasper Gibson’s version of the experience:
“As we came out of Bear Creek with the load, we immediately saw three men on horses coming to meet us in a gallop. We had no idea they were Indians and thought they were soldiers from some part, passing through. When they got closer we saw they were Indians.”
“They stood there a bit, apparently deciding what to do with us. There was a big bend in the creek and we lived in that bend. Finally one of the Indians decided to stay and watch us, and the other two rode toward our house but soon returned. We could do nothing and just stood there waiting.”
“Then one of the men motioned to us to hand him an ax that was in the wagon. But we were too afraid to move. One of them then caught the ax with the end of his bow and pulled it up on the horse. We wondered if he would use it on us. Another Indian then reached down and caught one of my hands and tried to pull me up on the horse. I kicked and fought hard. My little brother, Lewis, who was only six years old, then caught my other arm and helped me pull loose. The man then let me go, probably because he changed his plans, because he could have forced me to get on had he tried hard enough.”
“The Indians seemed undecided about what to do with us. I thought sure I would be killed when one of them put an arrow into his bow and aimed it squarely at my head. I thought I could see another of them shake his head, so the bow was pulled down.”
“They then let us go ahead of them a ways and we crossed the creek near where the trail forked, one going to Charlie Jones’ and the other being the dim San Saba road. We started to take the trail to the Jones’ place but they rode in and turned us away and motioned for us to take the other path. That would lead us away from home, so we screamed and started running frantically toward our mother.”
“As we ran down the hill the Indians sat on their horses and started shooting arrows into us. One arrow struck me in my left side near my heart and plowed along my ribs. Another hit me about the same place on my right side. Both had steel heads, and penetrated the muscles but did not cut into my vitals. Neither of them went through and were left dangling from my sides. My little brother, Lewis, was shot in the back, right between his shoulders, but the arrow was a blunt-headed one and Lewis reached back and pulled it out as he ran. Little Albert was shot in the back, the steel pointed arrow going entirely through his body, the head barely emerging in front, but by some miracle did not penetrate his bowels.”
“We were running and screaming, and as we were only a short distance from home, the Indians probably were afraid aid might come to us, so they disappeared into the woods.” “But our screams were not heard, and our mother knew nothing of the attack until we were near the house. She was sitting with our aunt, out at the loom, spinning, when we got there with blood streaming from our wounds and the arrows dangling from our sides. My older sister, Mary, immediately ran, alone, to Rance Moore’s for help. As she approached the Moore’s, Rance Moore was below the house setting out the fish hooks in the creek and looked up to see her fly by and into the front yard. She was overcome and fainted as she entered the front door, but soon revived and sobbed out her story. Mr. Moore did not wait for details. He hurried to Charlie Jones and the two of them were at our house in a little while.”
“They pulled the arrows out of my body. In Albert’s case, Charlie Jones cut the arrow head off and pulled the arrow back out the same way it had entered. They doctored us up the best they could and we were put to bed.”
“Mr. Moore went on over to Nixon’s on North Llano. Mr. Nixon was regarded as a right good home doctor and he came over to render what aid he could. The first thing he did after looking us over was to prepare what he called “slippery-elm bark poultice.” To prepare the preparation he would break the elm back up and beat it into a pulp, then wet it and apply this to the wounds. It was supposed to have great drawing power and Mr. Nixon claimed it would keep the wounds open until they healed from the inside.”
And thus is given a vivid description of another of the frontier episodes that occurred in Kimble. It seems providential that all three of the youthful victims survived. It developed that Lewis, who apparently was the least injured of the three, suffered the most from the blunt arrow wound in his back. A bone had been chipped and an infection developed many years later. At the time of this writing he lives at Jourdanton, Texas where he operates a drug store. After the first aid treatment had been administered, Bill Moore, son of Rance Moore, was dispatched to Mason to carry the news to the father and brother of the victims. By traveling all night he arrived the next morning and before sunset of that day the anxious father and brother had arrived at their Bear Creek home.
The wounds soon healed and not long thereafter the Gibson’s headed their oxen away from the setting sun and back to the settled area Llano County. The cattle already had drifted back, and the children needed schooling. In Llano County they settled on Hickory Creek at the foot of House Mountain. After two years there they moved to Squaw Creek in Gillespie County. On the Squaw Creek homestead in 1871, Mrs. Gibson passed on to her reward, long before she had reached her three score and ten years. She left behind her 11 children, consisting of Lytle, Jasper, Mary, Martha, Elizabeth, Lewis, Albert, Sarah, Charles, Benjamin and Ellen. Lane Gibson later moved to Globe, Arizona where he died about 1898.
Note: My dad, “Uncle Albert” who was the youngest, was always telling us that the three of them did not grow for a whole year… They were very weak and poorly as he put it. Actually, they also put Albert, my dad, upon one of the horses and it was Jasper who kept pulling him off…it was a frightening experience for all.
Lane Gibson remarried Elizabeth Nixon, the daughter of Andrew Jackson Nixon, who was the home doctor in this story. They had three boys and a girl. Harriet, Tom, George and Robert. Aunt Hattie was the greatest story teller of all time. Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Martha stayed with us.
Note by D. Gode 2005: This story was chapter four, Indians Attack Gibson Children, of the 1937 book. The reprinted book, with title shortened to It Occurred in Kimble, can be ordered from Higginson Book Company, 148 Washington Street, P.O. Box 778, Salem, Massachusetts 01970, phone (978) 745-7170, fax (978) 745-8025, www.higginsonbooks.com
The following was sent to me by another Lambeth researcher, thanks David for the information!
Editors Note: The following story was taken from a book written by O.C. Fisher, Texas Congressmen, titled: IT OCCURRED IN KIMBLE AND HOW. The late William Jasper Gibson, mentioned in the story, who died recently at the age of 92, was an uncle of Mrs. Sam White of Leedy.
Charles Lane Gibson, at the age of twenty-five, came to Texas in 1852 from Missouri, and settled on the head of Pecan Creek in the edge of Blanco County, close to Round Mountain. From there the family moved to Cold Springs Creek, twenty miles east of Mason town. Gibson was engaged in the cattle business and there came a severe drought in 1863 and ’64. In 1865 he made a trip up the Llano and found range conditions to be good. Whereupon, he and his brother, William, determined to move and settle on Bear Creek. Lane Gibson owned three yoke of steers and the slow trek soon was under way.
For their new home the Gibson’s picked a shady, timbered spot, only three quarters of a mile below Rance Moore’s ranch headquarters. The two Gibson’s set about hewing logs, making clap board lumber. Corrals were built along with the typical home of the time. The two Gibson’s were 50 yards apart. That placed them in the immediate neighborhood of Rance Moore, Billie Waites and Charlie Jones. And it was but six miles down to where Andrew Jackson Nixon lived. The latter was a next door neighbor of his son James, who had a family, and John New, a son-in-law. The Nixon’s were in the cattle business, did a lot of hunting, and made good frontier neighbors.
Lane Gibson could feel reasonably safe in these surroundings. Neighbors usually joined in bear hunts, and when a wild beef was butchered by one, it was divided with others in the settlement. Gibson was a cautious man and loyal to his family.
Elizabeth Lambeth Gibson, his wife, was a native of Tennessee and a brave, industrious homemaker. She was much sought after by the neighboring ladies because of her skill with the needle and for the further reason that she was unusually adept with the spinning wheel. Her kindly, charming and generous ways made her a popular figure on the frontier. All in all, the Gibson family was a happy one and the new home added zest to their family life and hope for their future well-being.
The cattle that had been moved from their native range in Mason County were not content with the change and many of them soon drifted down the river. In the fall of 1876, Lane Gibson, with his eldest son Lytle and his brother William, made a trip to Loyal Valley for the purpose of branding and marking the calves that were on the range. But Mrs. Gibson was not lonesome with her seven children with her as well as the company of her sister-in-law. Indians never announce their appearances and always strike unexpectedly. However, their devilment was mostly horse stealing by the light at the moon and there was very little danger of being attacked during the daytime, especially in the midst of a settlement. So with the feeling of security in the numbers about her, Mrs. Gibson went busily along with her spinning and sewing for the family. Winter was just around the corner and there was work to be done.
It came to pass on a late October afternoon, as was their custom to do occasionally, the children, Jasper, Lewis and Albert aged twelve, six and five, respectively, went out with their little truck wagon to gather wood. It was a homemade vehicle, the wheels being made of pecan by slicing the trunk of a pecan tree with a cross cut saw. The bed was of carefully hewed boards from trees, and the finished structure turned out to be an object of just pride on the part of the Gibson children. The drift wood was easier to get and there was a lot of that in the creek bottom. Their mother wanted dry, hard wood and they were careful in making the selection. They felt that she would prefer Spanish oak branches, and they carefully culled out the mesquite, as it was not desirable for cooking purposes. At last the wagon was loaded, the ax was stuck down into the wood and the three boys had to heave and puff to pull that load up the bank of Bear Creek. Just as they ascended the creek bank they saw three men coming, galloping bareback to meet them. As they approached…. but let us hear Jasper Gibson’s version of the experience:
“As we came out of Bear Creek with the load, we immediately saw three men on horses coming to meet us in a gallop. We had no idea they were Indians and thought they were soldiers from some part, passing through. When they got closer we saw they were Indians.”
“They stood there a bit, apparently deciding what to do with us. There was a big bend in the creek and we lived in that bend. Finally one of the Indians decided to stay and watch us, and the other two rode toward our house but soon returned. We could do nothing and just stood there waiting.”
“Then one of the men motioned to us to hand him an ax that was in the wagon. But we were too afraid to move. One of them then caught the ax with the end of his bow and pulled it up on the horse. We wondered if he would use it on us. Another Indian then reached down and caught one of my hands and tried to pull me up on the horse. I kicked and fought hard. My little brother, Lewis, who was only six years old, then caught my other arm and helped me pull loose. The man then let me go, probably because he changed his plans, because he could have forced me to get on had he tried hard enough.”
“The Indians seemed undecided about what to do with us. I thought sure I would be killed when one of them put an arrow into his bow and aimed it squarely at my head. I thought I could see another of them shake his head, so the bow was pulled down.”
“They then let us go ahead of them a ways and we crossed the creek near where the trail forked, one going to Charlie Jones’ and the other being the dim San Saba road. We started to take the trail to the Jones’ place but they rode in and turned us away and motioned for us to take the other path. That would lead us away from home, so we screamed and started running frantically toward our mother.”
“As we ran down the hill the Indians sat on their horses and started shooting arrows into us. One arrow struck me in my left side near my heart and plowed along my ribs. Another hit me about the same place on my right side. Both had steel heads, and penetrated the muscles but did not cut into my vitals. Neither of them went through and were left dangling from my sides. My little brother, Lewis, was shot in the back, right between his shoulders, but the arrow was a blunt-headed one and Lewis reached back and pulled it out as he ran. Little Albert was shot in the back, the steel pointed arrow going entirely through his body, the head barely emerging in front, but by some miracle did not penetrate his bowels.”
“We were running and screaming, and as we were only a short distance from home, the Indians probably were afraid aid might come to us, so they disappeared into the woods.” “But our screams were not heard, and our mother knew nothing of the attack until we were near the house. She was sitting with our aunt, out at the loom, spinning, when we got there with blood streaming from our wounds and the arrows dangling from our sides. My older sister, Mary, immediately ran, alone, to Rance Moore’s for help. As she approached the Moore’s, Rance Moore was below the house setting out the fish hooks in the creek and looked up to see her fly by and into the front yard. She was overcome and fainted as she entered the front door, but soon revived and sobbed out her story. Mr. Moore did not wait for details. He hurried to Charlie Jones and the two of them were at our house in a little while.”
“They pulled the arrows out of my body. In Albert’s case, Charlie Jones cut the arrow head off and pulled the arrow back out the same way it had entered. They doctored us up the best they could and we were put to bed.”
“Mr. Moore went on over to Nixon’s on North Llano. Mr. Nixon was regarded as a right good home doctor and he came over to render what aid he could. The first thing he did after looking us over was to prepare what he called “slippery-elm bark poultice.” To prepare the preparation he would break the elm back up and beat it into a pulp, then wet it and apply this to the wounds. It was supposed to have great drawing power and Mr. Nixon claimed it would keep the wounds open until they healed from the inside.”
And thus is given a vivid description of another of the frontier episodes that occurred in Kimble. It seems providential that all three of the youthful victims survived. It developed that Lewis, who apparently was the least injured of the three, suffered the most from the blunt arrow wound in his back. A bone had been chipped and an infection developed many years later. At the time of this writing he lives at Jourdanton, Texas where he operates a drug store. After the first aid treatment had been administered, Bill Moore, son of Rance Moore, was dispatched to Mason to carry the news to the father and brother of the victims. By traveling all night he arrived the next morning and before sunset of that day the anxious father and brother had arrived at their Bear Creek home.
The wounds soon healed and not long thereafter the Gibson’s headed their oxen away from the setting sun and back to the settled area Llano County. The cattle already had drifted back, and the children needed schooling. In Llano County they settled on Hickory Creek at the foot of House Mountain. After two years there they moved to Squaw Creek in Gillespie County. On the Squaw Creek homestead in 1871, Mrs. Gibson passed on to her reward, long before she had reached her three score and ten years. She left behind her 11 children, consisting of Lytle, Jasper, Mary, Martha, Elizabeth, Lewis, Albert, Sarah, Charles, Benjamin and Ellen. Lane Gibson later moved to Globe, Arizona where he died about 1898.
Note: My dad, “Uncle Albert” who was the youngest, was always telling us that the three of them did not grow for a whole year… They were very weak and poorly as he put it. Actually, they also put Albert, my dad, upon one of the horses and it was Jasper who kept pulling him off…it was a frightening experience for all.
Lane Gibson remarried Elizabeth Nixon, the daughter of Andrew Jackson Nixon, who was the home doctor in this story. They had three boys and a girl. Harriet, Tom, George and Robert. Aunt Hattie was the greatest story teller of all time. Aunt Elizabeth and Aunt Martha stayed with us.
Note by D. Gode 2005: This story was chapter four, Indians Attack Gibson Children, of the 1937 book. The reprinted book, with title shortened to It Occurred in Kimble, can be ordered from Higginson Book Company, 148 Washington Street, P.O. Box 778, Salem, Massachusetts 01970, phone (978) 745-7170, fax (978) 745-8025, www.higginsonbooks.com
