Henry Jackson

    During 1863, Mr. and Mrs. T. E. Jackson lived about four or five miles southeast of Woodson, and about fifteen miles northwest of Breckenridge. To be sure, neither of those towns were then in existence. Mr. Jackson was away. Mrs. Jackson and her children remained at home. Little Henry, their son, who had been a short distance below the cow lot, was returning toward the house. Henry had a whip in his hand. But the pioneers slightly differ concerning his mission. Some reported he had been after the calves and was driving them home. Others stated he was out playing, and simply had the whip in his hand. Nevertheless, several savages dashed out of the thick timber, back of the barn, and after making their steeds knock this innocent little fellow flat on the ground, the red men jumped from their horses, placed their feet on his neck, and hurriedly scalped this frontier boy. Perhaps, he would have been killed, but just at this moment, the savages were frightened away by Mr. Jackson and his cow-hands, then returning home.

    Poor little Henry, who had been maimed of his scalp, arose from the ground, picked up his whip, and started toward the house.

    He lived for almost a year. But his scalp never healed, and finally became inflamed. Henry was buried by his family and friends near the Jackson ranch.

    Note: Before writing this section, the author personally interviewed Joe Schoolcraft and his brother; James Clark, Mrs. Pete Harris, Mrs. Lucy Lindsey, Mrs. J. C. Lynch, John Erwin, Lish Christeson, J. B. Matthews, and others who lived in Stephens and adjoining counties at the time.

The above story is from the book, The West Texas Frontier, by Joseph Carroll McConnell.


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