Sarah Jane Catherine Bell was married to
Joseph Hamilton Cooper

THE COOPER FAMILY OX-WAGON CARAVAN
by Joseph H. Cooper

The Civil War, which ended in the year 1866, had succeeded in bringingwreck and ruin to the "Solid South". Discontentment prevailed,especially in Alabama, Georgia and Mississippi. My father, William H.Cooper, was one among the many wrecked Southerners left to take anactive part in the rehabilitation of the land and other properties. hewas a village blacksmith by trade and operated a first-class shop athis place in the Monterrey Community, near Jackson, Mississippi.Father was also a partner with his father-in law, German Berry, in amercantile establishment. During the war, the southern soldiersdestroyed father's shop by fire. The burning of the blacksmith shopis typical of the laying waste caused by the war and shows thecomplete unrest among the people. It happened this way:

The family home was a big, two-story frame structure, and during thewar, it was frequently used as a place for southern soldiers to securelodging. Without any guest, the house was usually full, there beingmy grandfather, my father, my mother, and seven children. Thisparticular night, however, the house was filled almost toover-flowing. A southern general by the name of Taylor and his entirestaff were over-night lodgers at our home. After the evening meal,another group of southern soldiers approached my father, seeking aplace to stay. Father very courteously stated that his home wasalready over-crowded and that they would have to go elsewhere to spendthe night. This greatly displeased the soldiers, and they threatenedboisterously to stay anyhow. Their boldness and rude insistencearoused General Taylor to immediate action, and he ordered his staffout to protect our home. The blacksmith shop was about half a milefrom the house. The soldiers went to the shop, camped for the night,and before leaving the next morning, in revenge, they set the shopproperty afire. Father knew nothing of his loss until he reached theplace to begin his day's work. Not only did father lose his shop, butthe war had completely wrecked the mercantile business.

The old Civil War song, The War ended in 66, And left us all in ahell-of-a-fix, pretty well expressed the prevailing conditions. Afterthe war, father established himself in another blacksmith shop, but itwas nothing comparable to his former one.

Many people passed his shop daily, moving from Alabama and Georgia,stating that they were "Texas bound". These passers-by probably gavefather the moving spirit. His desire mounted, as the travelers wouldstop by the shop to secure repair work on their horses' shoes andequipment, and would tell so eagerly of the wonderful land of Texas.My father had made two previous trips to Texas and had becomeinterested in the prospects of the land. Inspired by these movingneighbors of other states, he began to talk of moving to Texas. Hediscussed his plans with Uncle Jack Berry and Uncle Tom Pierce. Thisidea hung in their minds, until finally they decided that all shouldmake the move. I was then 15 years old, which fact dates thebeginning of this story seventy-six years old. Having come to thefinal decision, all necessary moving arrangements were under way.Their property, both personal and real estate, was put on the marketand sold. Plans were made for securing wagons and teams in which tomake the journey. The most common work animal during those days wasthe ox; so my father, Uncle Jack, and Uncle Tom Pierce equippedthemselves with wagons and with teams of oxen, there being two yokesof oxen to each of the three covered wagons. They also possessed ahorse-drawn hack and buggy.

The "Ox Wagon Caravan" consisted of the following persons who met atmy father's home to begin their journey: Wm. H. Cooper and theirchildren, Eliza Jane, Ellen, Sallie, Joe, Johnnie, and Willie, andtheir widowed daughter, Colan Evans and her infant daughter, Hattie;Jack and Lou Berry and their children, Lizzie and Mollie; Tom and LouPierce and their children, Davie and Mary C.; Mary Berry, Billie Hill,Albert Rushing, Merrill Hayley, and John Turner.

Dramatic action surrounded the beginning of the journey: When mysister, Liza Jane, told her fiance', Ed Griffin, goodbye, shecollapsed and fell into his arms, which very much embarrassed mymother, a very modest woman, both by nature and by training. It wason December 1, 1869, that we boarded the wagon and buggy and were soonon our way to Texas. Although I do not recall the exact route and allthe roads we traveled, I am quite certain we traveled the Old NechesTrace, a part of the way.

Our first day's journey ended in the Morrow Community, approximately20 miles from our home. We spent the night there with Uncle PlesBerry. There was little sleeping done that night, for we all realizedthat our visit would be short and it would be a long time before wesaw them again. Most of the night was spent in joyous reminiscenceand in telling enthusiastically of our plans to settle in Texas.

The second day of our traveling was considerably delayed when ElizaJane's fiance, Ed Griffin, and his father, overtook our caravan. Atthe time of our departure, their plans were that Ed should come toTexas in the fall of the next year and Liza Jane and he would getmarried. After the caravan had started, Ed's father learned of thisarrangement, and heartily disapproved of his son's going to Texas. SoEd and his father mounted their steeds and over-took our caravan atByrn's Station, on Pearl River, where we had stopped for the night. Edinsisted that Liza Jane and he get married then and there. There wasmuch excitement and stir, for preachers were scarce in the community,and it was necessary for us to travel for miles to secure a ministerto perform the ceremony.

The necessary delay had naturally rested our teams, making the thirddays journey accomplish more miles with less fatigue.

The fourth day found us all realizing that we had left many loved onesand familiar places which were dear to us. The fact that we may neverreturn to them again made our hearts heavy, and our conversation thatday resounded of melancholy and nostalgia.

Much of our journey was accomplished successfully and pleasurablybecause of the unusually good weather for this winter month. I did agreat deal of horse-back riding, exchanging places with another in thewagon when I would become tired. My old dog, Rawleigh, followed me toTexas. Uke, another dog, also began the trip.

The sixth day's journey held happy anticipation for us children whenwe learned that we would camp at the Mississippi River, indeed alarger stream than any of us children had ever seen. We arrived atthe river rather early on the afternoon of December 6, but we were toolate to be ferried across; so we camped that night on the banks of theMississippi, near the small town of Rodney. The remainder of theafternoon we children stood at the water's edge, watching thesteamboats go in both directions. All of our caravan enjoyed thecompany of other movers from Alabama and Georgia who had also pitchedcamp there for the night.

Although the next morning dawned fair and pretty, the problem ofcrossing that great stretch of water confronted us. The stream wastwo miles wide, and the only possible way for us to cross the riverwas by a ferry boat, operated by hand oars. The boat could ferry onlyone wagon and team at the time; so Uncle Tom Pierce was the first ofour group to cross. It was necessary to go two miles upstream and thesame distance down stream to make the proper landing. Without anyinterference or hazards, it took Uncle Tom approximately three hoursto cross over on the other side. Uncle Jack Berry and his wagon, thesecond to go across, landed in about the same time, with equal ease.

"It's a long line that never turns". The next in line for crossingwere a hack and buggy which were partnership rigs. All of the membersof the caravan, except Uncle Tom Pierce and John Turner, who hadalready crossed, and Merrill Hayley and me, boarded the hack andbuggy. Merrill and I had been left with Pappy William Cooper's wagonand team. The old boat sailed along with all facility of movementuntil they made the turn to come down stream. From a distance, Icould see the members tearing the tops off the hack and buggy, but Ididn't know the meaning of it until I got the story later. A strongwind had hit them and was about to capsize their boat. Tearing thetops off their buggy and hack prevented their being dumped into theriver. The wind raged, and they were having quite a struggle.

The water which came into the boat, nearly washed some of the childrenoverboard. The ferryman was a white man, and the steersman at therear of the boat was a confident old darkey. The wind made theferryman lose his nerve, and he quit pulling on his oars. The olddarkey kept struggling alone, begging the ferryman to pull his oars.Up stream a short distance was another old darkey fishing. Thesteersman said, "We kin make it, if'n I kin make that fisherman hear."The people aboard began to holler loudly and excitedly, and fire theirguns. Having been called on for similar help before, the oldfisherman immediately came to their rescue. This "struggle on theMississippi" took up the remainder of our day, and again it was toolate for the ferry to make another trip. So Hayley and I were leftalone to camp that night without money, food, or other supplies. Theold fisherman took me across the river to get some money from myfather to buy our supper and breakfast and to secure feed for ourteam. The women folk were very much alarmed at my coming over andbegged Pappy not to permit me to return. However, Pappy's confidencein the old darkey made him let me go. The entire crowd made up quitea purse for that old darkey who had saved their lives and had helpedus boys.

The next morning found Hayley and me ready to go across in Pappy'swagon. Hayley, being a good teamster, was charged with driving theteam. After yoking the steers and getting them hooked to the wagon heremoved all the ropes and put them in the wagon. Some bystanders ofthe other caravans asked, "Do you expect to drive those oxen down thatsteep bluff and onto the boat without ropes?" When Hayley repliedwith an emphatic "Yes", the bystanders ran to their camps and reportedthis amazing news. Hayley had a large audience -- and a very muchexcited one. Hayley, having a love for the spectacular, took evenmore chances than were necessary, but crossed over without anydifficulty. It was late in the day when we finally reached the otherside and found ourselves with our families in the state of Louisiana.

After an enjoyable meal at which time we laughed over the experiencesof the preceding day, we began our trip again, this time traveling aroad parallel to the Mississippi River for several miles. The countrywas low and swampy, and it was the desire of every mind to get throughthe low country before the inevitable rains began.

However, a heavy continuous downpour forced us to camp in thatdangerous, swampy country for the next few nights, only 12 miles fromwhere we crossed the river. It was always necessary for us to stopand pitch camp several hours before dark so that we could get a supplyof wood for use in heating water for bathing, and for cooking. Ittook considerable time each night to stretch our tents. Because ofthe heavy rain of the night before which had so wet our wood, it wasimpossible for us to prepare breakfast, so we broke camp and resumedour journey without morning nourishment. On this day's journey,December 9th, we passed through a small town, Morris, Louisiana, whichoverhung the banks of the Mississippi. The heavy downpour of thepreceding days had caused several of the houses to cave off into theriver. It was here that I came into my first acquaintance with beer.This particular day, Billie Hill, Albert Rushing and I were ridinghorseback, and we stopped at Morris to eat at a small lunch counter.The attendant served each of us with a glass of beer. Timidly, butwonderingly, I tasted mine. I said nothing, but that initial tastehas lasted me until this day, and I have had no desire for a secondtaste.

Another new experience for me came about by our going into adilapidated, small, but high building overhanging the river. Apassing observation would allow one to believe that it would toppleover any minute. While we were looking at the river from the lowerstory, the sound of masculine voices came from upstairs. It wasobvious that they were drinking and carousing. One man, quiteinebriated, was telling how he wanted to be buried when he died. "Iwant to be buried underneath that old oak" he said in drunken, muffledwords, "It's my fav'rite tree, I want you to leave my casket open" hecontinued, "and put a jug of whiskey at my head so's I can take a swigevery morning." Hearty laughter followed. Judging from theinsecurity of the building, I figured he might not get his wish butthat he might come to an untimely end before the break of a new day.

After leaving this little town, we overtook the wagons which weremaking little progress on the muddy, slippery roads. We camped only afew miles from Morris. With much difficulty in starting a fire, weate a nourishing breakfast and began another day's journey ofdifficult travel over almost impassible roads, leading, it seemed fromone river bottom to another. The eleventh day found us stilltraveling in down-pouring rains. We came to a bayou across which alevee had been built for crossing purposes. It was badly worn andvery slanting, a result of constant usage. Uncle Tom Pierce againwent first on the one-sided levee which was fifteen or twenty feetabove the water and was very slippery. His wagon began to slip, andit pulled team and all aboard into very deep water. Through muchdifficulty and concentrated effort, he managed to get his wheel oxento hold the wagon and kept it from sinking. The teams from the otherwagons pulled Uncle Tom's wagon back to the top of the levee. It tookseveral hours for us to work on the roads and levee, making itpossible for the other vehicles to cross without similar trouble.Although nearly all of us laughed and talked about Uncle Tom'sexperiences, they were no laughing matter to him.

The twelfth day found us still traveling in the mosquito-inhabitedswamps which were very sparsely settled. Occasionally we would cometo a hill topped by a house. The fact that the rain had stopped madethe camping that night a bit more pleasurable than it had been forsome time. The morning of the thirteenth seemed to offer morepromise, there being no rain and drier roads. We learned, however,that not only bad roads could make us camp for the night... We met aman peddling pork just outside a small Louisiana town. Being desirousfor fresh meat, we purchased some, and as a result of eating it, weall became ill. Fortunately Father, William Cooper, having studiedtwo years in a medical college, was able to administer to our physicalailments. However, all of us felt far more like camping thantraveling. Hence, we spent another miserable night in the swampsamong the owls and pigs.

The fourteenth day found us monotonously traveling deeper into theswamps. If we could have taken time for hunting, we could haveenjoyed some real sport, for there were many evidences of wild game.Only on one occasion, when we had stopped to rest the teams, did weget to go hunting. Billie Hill, Albert Rushing, Merrill Hayley and Iwent on a deer hunt, and although we saw several deer, we never got ingood shooting range. It was on this day's journey that we missed Uki,one of the two dogs which started on this trip with us. Later welearned from correspondence with folks back home that old Uke had comeback home and was living among the people there. Evidently he hadswum (sic) the Mississippi on his way back.

The fifteenth day of our journey brought us to old Red River, which wecrossed at Alexandra, Louisiana. The stream being shallow, we wereable to ford it. Although Alexandra wasn't very large, it was thelargest town we had come through since we reached Louisiana. Alexandrahad more negro inhabitants than any other place we saw. It was notunusual at all to see groups of them, standing around, horse-trading.The next succeeding days of our journey took us through not so swampyplaces, and there were more houses, but it was still not very thicklysettled.

One night while we were camping, Hayley met up with an oldacquaintance. While all of us were asleep, he carefully gathered allhis belongings and left without disturbing any of us. He had not madeknown to any his desire to break camp with us, and had not mentionedhis decision to any member of our group. We have never seen or heardof Hayley since. Hayley was an excellent teamster and had served hispurpose well, Billy Hill took Hayley's place as teamster for myfather, and although he did well, he was not Hayley's equal.

Another member of our company broke ranks with us, but under fardifferent circumstances from Hayley's departure. John Turner, UncleJack Berry's aide, met a man in Louisiana who offered John a job. Johnwanted the job; so he submitted his proposition to Uncle Jack whoimmediately gave him his release. The weather being good and theroads being dry made our travel pleasant, despite the loss of two ofour comrades. After a hard day's travel, we always looked forwardwith enthusiasm to camping at night. It was most enjoyable sittingaround the fire, telling of our experiences and comparingobservations.

After having crossed our seventh river, the Red River at St. Maurice,Louisiana, again by hand-oared ferry, we met a group of gypsies whoinsisted on telling our fortunes. Quite contrary to our expectations,they told Mother some actual happenings. They told Mother of one ofher daughter's being married on this trip and predicted that Motherwould see Liza Jane, who had returned with Ed, within six years. Sureenough, Pappy went back to Mississippi six years later and Liza Janereturned with him to Texas.

The town of Mansfield, Louisiana, was of considerable interest to usas it was the place where thy Battle of Mansfield was fought duringthe Civil War. It was typically a place of former war. Tree tops hadbeen shot out; carcasses of horses were strewn all over the ground. Wediscovered a deep pit or hole which was explained to us by residentsas being a mass burial place for southern soldiers. The bodies werelater removed and given decent burial.

We spent Christmas day near Mansfield. Although we had few toys andfire works and missed the usual activities we enjoyed at Christmastime, we had our usual Christmas egg nogg, as was the custom duringthose days. I was very eager for fireworks; so I made some by pushingthe pith out of corn cobbs and loading the holes with gunpowder and"wads" of wet paper. When some of my "make" failed to explode, Iproceeded to blow it and very suddenly it exploded in my face. I wentsore-faced on our tip to Texas.

Between Keatchie, Louisiana, and Marshall, Texas we saw many negroes,no doubt former slaves of the wealthy plantation owners. This beingthe time for "Carpet Baggers", the negroes had been given considerableauthority. In many places negroes were made officials. This, inlater years, caused much strife between the blacks and whites.Fortunately, we came to no unpleasant encounters with the negroes.

The journey from Keatchie to Texas is vague in my mind, but I stillremember with a smile how happy we were when we reached our goal. Thefirst village we came to in Texas was called by two very contrastingnames "Elysian Fields" and "Lick Skillet". We camped several milesfrom this place, going the next day into Harrison County, Texas.

On January 1, 1870, we reached the home of Major Webb, near the townof Marshall. Major Webb, a former resident of Mississippi, was afriend of my father. When Pappy was a young man, he had worked forMajor Webb. When Webb and his wife came to Texas by boat, he securedPappy's service to bring his negroes through overland. After campingat Major Webb's, we went the next day eight or ten miles away toPappy's sister, Mrs. William Britten, where we stayed for a few daysuntil we could make arrangements for our homes.

Our initial plans were to settle near Wortham, in Freestone County,Texas; but after arriving in Harrison County, we decided to make acrop there and proceed the next year westward. The following fallUncle Jack Berry sold his crop and moved to Wortham, but we gatheredour crop. Pappy's severe illness caused us to remain through anothercrop in Harrison County.

In 1872, Pappy became interested in settling in Shelby County; so inthe winter of the same year, we moved near Center, where most of myimmediate family spent their lives.

1870 was an important year in our family. It marked an importantmarriage and an important death. Aunt Mary Berry married John Webb,the son of Major Webb. Later they moved to Shelby County where theylived until their deaths. In the same year Uncle Tom Pierce was takencritically ill with cancer. Despite the efforts of a physician inMarshall, little improvement was shown. He returned to Mississippi tosecure medical and surgical aid, but he died there a few months later.His family moved to Wortham, Texas, with Uncle Jack Berry.

The only survivors of our trip to Texas are Lizzie Berry Jones ofWortham, Texas, and Hattie Evans Sanford of Center, Texas, and I,Joseph H. Cooper, who make my home with my son, Jodie Cooper, inLufkin, Texas. With memories crowding at my heart over 91 years andmy days being numbered now, I remember with joy and pride this "oxwagon caravan" which led into fertile soil and fruitful lives.