Rosalie Hart Priour Autobiography "Adventures of a Family of Emigrants" with notes and commentary by historian Frank Wagner (indicated in green).
Chapter 20
The day we left Victoria, Mrs. [Thomas] Quirk was sick and in such a condition, that it was impossible to move her. Her husband would not abandon her. That night the Mexicans entered and sacked the town. They took Mr. Quirk, and killed and quartered him alongside of his wife's bed. The next morning, she died. It was a happy release from the sufferings she would have had to go through had she survived the butchery of her husband.
Those who escaped had to walk all day and at night hide in the brush, without a bed and very little to eat. It was heart-rending to see a crowd of women and children hunted from place to place like so many wild animals, almost entirely destitute of clothing and provisions.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Reminiscences of Fifty Years in Texas by John J. Linn. followed the account given by Dr. J. H. Barnard, published in the Goliad Guard in 1875, of the Fannin Massacre. Linn was acquainted for many years with Judge William L. Hunter, the survivor of the massacre who witnessed the death of John James.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It was in the beginning of winter, and no hopes of any amelioration in our troubles. At Demmit's landing, the fugitives felt comparatively safe, for about three or four weeks there was a Negro family living there and keeping an eating house
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - All efforts to identify the Negro family at Dimmitt's Landing have been unavailing.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - It was only a shanty with two rooms, but in our present condition we were very glad to find it. Mother, in preference to having to sleep under a tree exposed to the inclemency of the weather, it was the coldest and most disagreeable winter I have ever seen in Texas, consented to cook, to have shelter and board for herself and two children. We were at that time expecting my stepfather with his two children to join us, and then times would be better for us all.
The other fugitives had to camp under trees. News then arrived of the massacre of the Alamo. Men were stricken with fear, and although some of them had relations in our party, not one would stop to save us from our impending fate.
At last two strangers, one of them from Kentucky, the other from Tennessee, rode up to us on horseback and found us trying to build a raft out of logs and sticks by tying them together with rawhide. When our raft was finished, we piled our things on it and tried to float it, but it would not move. If we could cross the river, we could- go to Cox's Point [Port Lavaca] and from there to Matagorda, but unless [we] would cross we were lost.
Those two gentlemen approached and asked if we had no protection, we told them we had not. They told us not to be disheartened, they would go and get some of the soldiers to cross us over the river and take us to some place of safety. They went to Cox's Point and endeavored to get assistance, but what men were there were so frightened, not one would come to our rescue. These two were the only ones willing to risk their lives and they said if all the others were too cowardly to protect the lives of their wives and children of the men who had fallen in battle, or of those who were yet on the field exposing their lives for the freedom of the country, they would go alone and die if necessary in trying to save them. I have always regretted not being able to learn their names. The children in our party gave them the name of daddy.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Identification of the two young strangers from Kentucky and Tennessee has eluded my search.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - About two hours and a half before sundown, we saw a skiff coming down the river with a family who like ourselves were running from the enemy. Daddy pressed the skiff into service and crossed all the women and children to the other side. Just as he was landing the last load of passengers, it was dark, and we heard someone screaming. We thought it was the enemy and the owner of the skiff sent his family aboard and went down the river as fast as he could. We had left all our baggages on the other bank of the stream, even what little money we had was forgotten in the excitement of our departure. After we were all hid in a mott on the bank of the Guadaloupe (sic), the gentleman from Kentucky swam across the river in order to find out if possible the cause of the commotion we had heard on the other bank. It was a party of people running from the Mexicans and Indians who were in hot pursuit, but as the yawl was gone we were helpless to aid them.
That night there was a dreadful storm of wind and rain [a norther] and we all gathered together as close as we could to each other to keep from freezing, if possible, and our two protectors kept up a patrol until morning. We were afraid to light a fire for fear of our retreat being discovered. We had nothing but cold bread and water to eat. As soon as daylight appeared we started for Cox's Point at the mouth of the river, daddy carried my sister [Mary Ann] and two or three other little children on horseback, and the rest of us had to walk twelve miles through a swamp of water nearly up to our knees and the weeds and grass were higher than our heads so that we were completely concealed. I had very thick, long hair at that time, but when we arrived at the Point, my hair was so full of mud ma had to shave my head to get it clean.
It was eight o'clock before we reached the settlement. There we found a boarding house and suttler's store. The hotel keeper and his wife were kind to us and ma put sister Mary Ann and me in bed while she washed and dried our clothes. The suttler threw his store open and told us to help ourselves to all we could find that would be of any service to us. There were shoes and each one of us took a pair.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Nothing is known of the sutler and boardinghouse keeper of Cox's Point.
Chapter 19 - Chapter 21