C H A P T E R Â 1
1865
Bob Lee Comes Home
When Captain Robert J. Lee Turned His War horse toward Texas in the spring of 1865 he expected to find peace along the way, and at the Corners, that garden spot in the northeast section of the state he called home. It was not within the remotest fringes of his dreams that he would become the heart and core of a vendetta that for sheer hatred would exceed the bitterness that had kept the North and South at war for four years. When he rode west from Memphis, with his destination Lee Station in Fannin County, his thoughts were happy ones about a new era of peace. He did not believe it could be possible for the next four years to be worse than the four years just ended. He lived exactly four more years to disprove his dream.
His war record with the Confederate armies was one of which he was justly proud. He had left home as a Private in the Texas State Troops; he was returning a Captain of Cavalry with the Army of Tennessee. He had a good horse and side-arms, and it was pleasing to know that he had not had to surrender either.
Many hours of his trip homeward he spent recalling his wife Melinda and their three children. âO, My sweet Melinda Lee!â He hummed a tune to fit his thoughts.
On a hot August afternoon in 1861 he had ridden over to Pilot Grove to enlist. There he had signed up with a company of volunteers for the Texas State Troops under Captain Jackson E. McCoole. That patriotic and impulsive act altered the course of his life and launched him upon a career that was to be short and dangerous. It marked the end of his life as a private citizen, living in contentment with his small family on the Lee land in Fannin and Hunt Counties. It had been seven years since he had married Melinda Mahan â December 4, 1854, the records in Bonham show â and brought his sweet Melinda to live at Leeâs Station.
The Governor had issued a call for three thousand troops to help the Confederacy. Bob and Melinda agreed that when a man had to go fight a war, the sooner he started the sooner heâd get it finished and come back to his own affairs. If Texas was in trouble it was a manâs duty to help out. So he rode to Lickskillet, blissfully unaware that his years of happiness had been terminated by Texasâ secession and a fast-gathering war. Although Texas was a mighty long way from the scene of battle, the war feeling had already enveloped the state. Companies of volunteers to serve as Home Guards only, within the borders of the state, sprang up all along the 700 miles from the Red River to the Rio Grande. Strong young men who believed it would be a short war went rapidly to the settlements to enlist in a war destined to be long and cruel.
Such was the case at Pilot Grove. Captain McCoole had come there to raise a company because the Corners was a popular meeting place. There were good farms and good farmers in that area of Grayson, Fannin, Hunt, and Collin. Therefore, Colonel W. B. Sims of Sherman, who set out to raise a regiment, sent Captain McCoole to Pilot Grove to raise at least one company.
It was the end of August, the 29th, hot and dry, and time to pick cotton, but the Captain got his company. Bob Lee was one of them. He gave his age as 27. Captain McCoole didnât tarry about his business. He took his recruits that very day to Sherman and presented them to Colonel Sims, each man providing his own arms, clothing, â and horse, of course. With a speed and efficiency undreamed by the recruits, they were mustered into the State Troops for a period of twelve months and sent into training quarters at Camp Reeves, Grayson County. But in one month and sixteen days, namely, on October 14, 1861, Colonel Simsâ men were considered fit for duty with the C.S.A. and accordingly they were mustered into Confederate service and sent immediately to Arkansas as Company C of the Ninth Texas Cavalry, to serve under Gen. Ben McCulloch. Leeâs pay from the state had amounted to $18.40 at the salary of twelve dollars per month. He had been allowed another $18.40 for his horse and $6.38 for clothing issued to him. Thus equipped and trained, Company C had set out on dangerous service.
His ability to ride and shoot served Lee well; by the end of November he had been promoted to Second Lieutenant. That first spell of duty with Company C seemed far away now; they had ridden 450 miles to the place of rendezvous with General McCulloch in Missouri, securing their provisions along the road as best they could. He recalled their camps in the Cherokee Nation, in Arkansas, and back again in East Texas. At Daingerfield he had enlisted with Captain E. R. Hawkinsâ Texas Fencibles, and not long afterward was transferred to Whitfieldâs Battery. A year later he was in Mississippi with the same outfit â Whitfieldâs Legion, sometimes called Whitfieldâs Battery, a unit that made a distinguished record in the bloody annals of Confederate military history.
Lee re-enlisted for the war, and as time went on he became a Captain, and his commander, Major Whitfield, made Brigadier. The Legion was attached to the Army of Tennessee. The Captain, even now, after the Great Defeat, thrilled with pride when he thought about the many generals he had come to know through battle: Generals Ben McCulloch, Albert Pike, Earl Van Dorn, Henry Forney, Henry Little, N. B. Forrest, and, of course and always, J. W. Whitfield.
The life of a cavalryman had led him far, through hardships, privation, starvation and blood. The Ninth Texas Cavalry had fought at Pea Ridge, Wilsonâs Creek and Elk-horn Tavern, then across the Mississippi at Corinth, luka, Vicksburg, Nashville, Murphreesboro, Missionary Ridge, and the siege of Atlanta. Of their gallant fighting General Ross had said in his reports: âThe gallant bearing of the Ninth Texas â is deserving of special commendation â the charges made by them have never been and cannot be surpassed by cavalry of any nation.â
He had done most of his fighting east of the Mississippi, but he was well aware of the troublous times now settling on the country west of the Mississippi, particularly on Texas. He was thoroughly familiar with the failure of General Banksâ scheme to invade Texas, due to the stout defense of the Army of the Trans-Mississippi.
Now that the war was ended and men were making their way back home, he wondered what he would find at the Corners. Would he find peace or would there be more trouble? If he could believe Melindaâs letters, there was little indication of peace at home. Partisan feeling was growing worse instead of better; the Union League was raising its head like a giant in the land. The name TEXAS was anathema in Washington. Because she had not surrendered and would not surrender, steps were to be taken to bring the recalcitrant state into line. Federal troops were to be sent to Texas, whispered Melinda in her letters. Captain Robert Lee, her husband, laughed at the thought. âThe Feds in Texas? Oh no, that can never be.â
For a man who had lived in the saddle and slept in the open for nearly four years, the five-hundred-mile-ride from Memphis was no chore. The road was marked by returning Confederates: gay, dejected, crippled, strong, foot soldiers and cavalrymen â all were making their ways to their homes in Missouri, Arkansas, Louisiana and Texas. Bob Lee considered himself a lucky devil because he had a better horse to ride than some he passed; he knew too, that he had better clothes than many a man going to Texas. For that he could thank his wife Melinda, and his father and family at home who had used sagaciously the gold pieces that Daniel Lee had brought from Virginia and Missouri in the 1830âs and these had tided the family over the war period in slightly better circumstances than some. Bob and his brothers in the Confederate service had not suffered for want of clothing and good boots. Bob wondered if there still could be some of the gold left. All his life his father had told him about the pot of gold they had brought in the wagon train. Bob and his brothers had seen it many times. The gold and its hiding place were as ordinary to them as the furniture in the house on the Lee plantation, but when the war came there was a change of policy. Daniel Lee found a new and safer hiding place for the family treasure.
The day he crossed Red River at Fulton, Arkansas, was a happy one for Captain Lee, and that feeling was magnified to its greatest point three days later when he drew near the vicinity of the Corners. The familiar path that led to Leeâs Ranch and home lay before him. When he reached it, with trembling hand he took out his six-shooter, raised it high and fired three shots, the signal he had written to Melinda, then he slid from his horse, and with more vigor than he had ever given the Rebel yell, he yelled âMELINDA!â
Quick as a flash of lightning came the answer: âBobâs home!â Doors opened, children ran, a woman screamed. âBobâs home!â In twenty-four hours every home in the Corners had heard it; the echo of it penetrated the thickets where skulkers, one-time deserters, and future guerrillas lay in hiding. Everywhere the call came: âBOB LEEâS HOME!â
After the first blissful days he rode over to the Skillet to look around. From the first he sensed it was not the same; he was royally welcomed by some, but others looked askance at him and made remarks about him, insinuating that a Captain under Forrest might not be so popular at the Corners. Union sympathizers thereabouts did not admire the set of the Captainâs plumed hat, and they both envied and resented the gold coins he carried in the pockets of his good coat. They knew the skill of the six-shooters he wore in his belt, and they dared not speak too loud.
But the whispered word carried far and it wasnât long until the news of Bob Leeâs return was known everywhere in the Red River Valley. The Confederate veterans were happy about it for now they felt they had a leader; the freedmen were uneasy and shaking with fear behind their bold bravado; the bushwhackers and scalawags hiding in the thickets so long dared not come out now for fear that Lee and his friends might yet hale them into a court of justice.
The Union sympathizers centered in the Union League resolved to do something about it. Captain Lee, the cavalryman, with his good clothes, his plumed hat and his gold coins, was too big for the Corners, and would have to go. Lewis Peacock at the head of the Union League was firm in his intention of speeding Leeâs departure by fair means or foul.
These rumors came back to Bob and Melinda at Lee Station; at first they ignored them, refusing to believe that there was anything less than security and happiness at the Corners, but as the months slipped by and they persisted, Bob recognized them as omens of trouble.
His premonitions were realized when a posse surrounded his house one night, and men dressed in the uniforms of United States soldiers entered the house and announced to the captain that he was under arrest and their orders were to take him to Sherman, the county seat of Grayson, where he would be tried for crimes he had committed during the War. Bob was sick in bed at the time but the possemen would grant no stay and he was forced to dress and ride with them. He recognized Lewis Peacock, Jim Maddox, and one of the Borens. At a point a few miles from the Corners the posse was enlarged by another group of citizens. One of these was recognized as Doc Wilson, a questionable character of the community. Doc rode next to Bob and soon began a conversation bearing on the theme that there was a way out of the situation that would make it easy for everybody. Lee had only to hand out some of his gold and the posse would disappear and Lee would escape any punishment at Sherman. The captain of Forrestâs Cavalry refused to listen to him, and the entire posse turned off the main road and struck camp in Choctaw Bottom. Bob pleaded to go to Sherman but his captors ignored him and placed a guard over him and settled down to a waiting game. After thirty-six hours the sick man yielded. He signed a note to Doc Wilson for two thousand dollars, with his fatherâs name as security. Besides that, Lee gave them the twenty-dollar gold coin he had in his pocket and promised them his mule and bridle. When this "treatyâ had been duly signed on paper, the guard was withdrawn and Bob and his brother, who had come along too, were allowed to ride away unharmed.
Perhaps it might have ended there if Bob and his brother had chosen to abide by the terms of the treaty made under duress, but now the ire of the captain was aroused. A sense of injustice weighed heavily on him. He determined to ride to Bonham, the county seat of Fannin, and bring suit in the civil courts against the leaders of the posse. Also, he, his brothers, and his father began to count men who would stand by them â relatives and friends; from these they could form an organization in opposition to the Union League of Peacock and his followers. By these two acts the wheels were set in motion for the deadly feud that soon followed.
Bob did go to Bonham, where he filed charges against the leaders of the posse that had kidnapped him. But the Union Leaguers were too well organized to allow a civil suit to go on; they formed a posse and stormed the little Fannin County jail one night and released their men. Bob evened it up by refusing to pay the note he had signed in Choctaw Bottom. And now the feud was off to a good start. Bob Leeâs homecoming in 1865 took on a somber tone and the future years of contemplated peace receded into the dim distance of the unattainable.
C H A P T E R 2
1866
Turmoil Begins
Captain Bob Lee was a person who made staunch friends and stalwart enemies. After his efforts to press a civil suit against his kidnappers had failed, he realized that in the northeast section of Texas the war was not yet over; it was still, as one person told him, âin peopleâs hearts.â He, like all Confederate veterans and Southern sympathizers, must be subservient to Northern sympathizers and military rule for some time to come. The decisions of the civil courts were supervised by the Military; justice was administered by a judge who traveled with a military escort. Bob Lee did what many others had already done â he built a hide-out in the brush.
A part of Wildcat Thicket was on Lee land and there Bob built his shelter. It was made of black oilcloth boiled in linseed oil to make it water repellent and also indistinguishable. Leeâs service with Forrest and Whitfield had taught him the artifices of ambush and camouflage. His hide-out became the meeting place of all his followers and friends and its location was never discovered by his enemies. Captain Bob was the recognized leader of a clan, and if any member got into trouble with the Military, he fled to the hide-out for protection and advice. The Captain never failed to give both.
Among those who knew every turning of that hidden path through the Thicket were the Dixons, friends and neighbors living about five or six miles northwest of Lee land. Jack Dixon was a âfull-blooded Irishmanâ according to his own description, who had emigrated with his family from Missouri to Texas in 1858. Before that the Dixon family had lived in Indiana and Illinois, but after landing in Texas Jack Dixon moved no more; in the region of the Corners he found his home.
While he was still living near Springfield, Jackâs wife died, leaving a small son named Simpson. This was the same son who, after seeing service with the Confederate armies, was now a follower of Bob Lee; Simp Dixon was known everywhere in North Texas as a close friend of Lee.
But it was Jackâs second wife who shared with him the adventures and dangers of life in Texas. She was a young widow named Sarah Anne Johnson when Jack married her. She too had a small son, Dick Johnson. This little boy who left Missouri in the wagon train for Texas was destined to be remembered in the Red River Valley as the avenger of Bob Leeâs death, thereby bringing an end to the Great Feud.
Two other Dixon families came to Texas at the same time â the late 1850âs. The men were cousins, and all settled in the fertile river valley of North Texas; one at Blue Ridge in the northern tip of Collin County and less than ten miles from the Corners. He was known as âGeneralâ Dixon, though where or how he acquired that title, nobody could say. The other Dixon cousin went on to Black Jack Grove in Hopkins County to make his home. He was called Doctor Dixon, though whether that meant he was a practitioner of medicine from a medical school or office, nobody seemed to know or care.'
But Jack Dixon bought his one hundred and sixty acres from John Sloan at the Corners, and there he and Sarah Anne set up their new home. He hauled the lumber from Jefferson to build his house and he built it well. Standing atop a little rise of the level land, Dixonâs Mound became a landmark; it was close to the main road north and south and handy to the village of Pilot Grove. The house and its inhabitants were bound to become involved in everything that happened at the Corners.
Jackâs overland freight business, which he had established soon after his arrival in Texas, had prospered. He accumulated more mules and more wagons. He was an experienced freighter and knew how to handle his shipping. During the war years there had been a greater demand than before for freighting. Huge supplies were sent to Jefferson and shipped from there to Confederate forces. Equally needed were food and merchandise that the Dixon Line brought back to settlers along the route and at the Corners. All that prosperity had vanished the year before with the ending of the war. Times were hard and getting harder; Confederate money was worthless and gold was hard to find. Billy Dixon was fourteen and already a good wagoner, and Charlie, son of the Doctor, had come over from Black Jack and joined his cousinâs business. These two boys traveled the road to Jefferson many times.
Simp Dixon had come back from service with the Confederates and was trying to help out with the familyâs business, but he was restless and felt out-of-touch with merchandising and freighting. A lot of local boys who had been gone three and four years felt the same restlessness. They could not find their old way of life. Discontent and poverty had replaced contentment and prosperity while they were away in the swamps and marshes. Hatred and suspicion had crept into the thinking and the conversation of the people they met wherever they went. Union men and refugees would not accept Confederate veterans on any level, and Southern men and women could not stomach the Union Leaguers and their followers.
Simp Dixon and all the family at Dixonâs Mound were outspokenly Southern in their sentiments. Besides Charlie and Billy, there were the four girls fast approaching their teens â Hester Anne, Susan, Lydia and Sallie; next were the two small boys â Ennis, who could do a mighty good Rebel yell, and the baby of the family who qualified with his name â Robert Lee. Whether he was named for General Robert Lee of Virginia or for Captain Robert Lee, their neighbor, was sometimes discussed in idle conversation, but the consensus of opinion was that the General did not co...