Cherokee County, Texas
MRS. AMANDA SPEAR
TRIBUTE TO SOUTHERN HEROISM
Story of A Woman who Rode 300 Miles on Horseback with Year Old Baby to Visit
Sick Husband.
The following story was written by Mrs. Amanda Spear, now nearly 80 years of
age and is a true recital of some of her experiences during the time of the
Civil War. The Ride of Paul Revere has been heralded in song and story as an act
of patriotic heroism, and so it was, but greater by far was the Ride of Amanda
Spear, who rode 300 miles on horseback in the dead of winter, crossing swollen
streams and traveling over the roughest roads, through dense wilderness, and
carrying with her a babe of only a year--braving everything, overcoming
obstacles that seemed insurmountable--and all that she might reach the bedside
of her husband, who was at the point of death, and whom she feared would loose
his mind even if he regained his bodily strength.
The editor of this paper heard this remarkable story from the lips of Mrs.
Spear several months ago, and now that she has written it herself at the request
of the J.A Barker Camp of Jacksonville, we are glad to give it to our readers.
Mr. and Mrs. Spear still live at the old homestead one mile north of this
City, where they have passed many happy years since the cruel war ended, and
where they raised to manhood the baby who made the trip with his heroic mother.
TO THE CONFEDERATE VETERANS
When the war between the States broke out Cicero Spear and I had been married
four years. We had two small children. We were poor, but happy. In March, 1862,
my husband enlisted in Capt. J. C. Maples' company at the town of Old
Jacksonville, and in June following, he with many others, mostly young men with
small families, was called to the front.
Many of those poor fellows never returned. After a long and weary march they
reached Camp Nelson, which was 30 miles east of Little Rock, Ark. There my
husband was stricken down with typhoid pneumonia on the 4th of October. He had
an uncle living seven miles from the camp who found him there sick and moved him
to his home. Quite a number of my husband's company visited him there and
through their letters to their people here at home I heard from him at times.
There were no mails and it was only when a soldier got to come home that we
could get letters. About Christmas Wood Pierce wrote to his wife that he had
been to see my husband and that he thought there was a chance for him to get
well, but he did not think that he would ever recover his mind. On receipt of
this news I could not restrain myself from attempting to go to him and get him
home if possible. My brother-in-law, M.R. Pearson, was at home at the time and
had to return to his command, so I decided to go with him. There were no
railroads and very few vehicles of any kind except wagons drawn by oxen, and if
I went, I must go horseback and carry with me my year-old boy in my arms. I left
my little girl with my sister and we started on our long journey from near Old
Jacksonville on the 4th day of January, 1863. The weather was good the firs week
out and all went well. Then my baby got sick but I got medicine, but next day it
began to rain and we stopped with a family named Ebbs. The rain came in torrents
for twenty hours and then it began to snow and it continued snowing as it had
rained, which was a much greater snowfall than I had ever seen in Texas, and wet
as the ground was the snow was knee deep on a level when it quit falling and the
sun came out. By this time the baby was well and we started on our journey, but
had only gone eight miles and were in one mile of the Sabine River when we
learned that the ferry boat had washed away; but the next morning it had been
brought back and we crossed near Benton and after two days travel over heavy
roads reached Little Rock. Continuing our journey east we found a low level
country with a creek every few miles; we found the roads almost covered in water
and some bridges gone, some we had to swim across and the second day we passed
through Camp Nelson. There were no soldiers then and that evening we reached the
home of my husband's uncle, Mr. Sam Hill. We found my husband still in bed, but
improving. The fever had settled in one of his legs and it had risen and had
been lanced and was badly drawn so that he could not walk a step. He was the
most emaciated person I ever seen; his bones had cut through at almost every
joint, but was healing. He was regaining his mind and as soon as he could get
around a little on crutches we began to think about starting home, more than 300
miles away, but our good kind uncle and aunt begged us to stay with them until
spring opened. While there I saw the first Yankee since the war had begun and
more than I have ever seen since. They were deserters from the northern army,
and Uncle Sam said he would give shelter to every one that was going North and
some nights the floors were literally covered with them. I wonder now that we
were not afraid of them, but I never slept sounder than I did with those blue
coated fellows sleeping a few feet of us. The snow had not all melted when we
bad good-bye to the dear ones who had so tenderly cared for my husband for more
than four months. There had been a change in the military officers, and they did
not want Mr. Pearson then, so he decided to return with us to Texas. This good
man walked all the way home, and permitted my husband to ride his horse, saying
he could walk as far as Cicero could ride. The first night on the return trip we
had to stay were the water stood about a foot deep everywhere. They had large
hewn foot logs to walk on everywhere about the premises. I did not know where
they put Mr. Pearson to sleep. Myself and husband had to sleep in a shack in the
yard that had only one sill under the floor, and when we walked the planks sunk
down and the water would come up through the cracks. The bed was made of long
moss, and was as hard as a grindstone, and so damp that I thought it would kill
us to remain there until morning. Had it not been for the blankets we had with
us, we could not have stayed there at all, but with the help of these, we slept
but little through the long night. We crossed the Arkansas river at Little Rock
and went down the river to Pine Bluff so that my husband could get his
discharge. On the way it rained and we stayed with a family named Hawk two
nights and one day. There were several girls in the family, but only one boy,
and he was getting ready to go into the army, and his sisters thought they could
not do enough for him. He was also of the some opinion. They requested me to
knit a woolen comforter for him, like the one my husband had, and I worked all
day and half the night to get it done for the conceited puppy. Our next stop was
with a family named Hitt near Pine Bluff. It was ten days before my husband's
discharge was made out, when we turned our faces homeward. We journeyed on again
until we reached the Caddo river. It was nearly dark, and we tried to stay with
a family living on the river bank, but there were some army officials there
drying a lot of Confederate money they were taking some where to pay the
soldiers which they got wet crossing the river, which was a raging torrent.
These officials would not permit the family to take anyone in while they were
there with the money, so we had to go on. The ford was awful rocky and the water
ran very swift. A boy rode my pony over. My husband also rode over, while Mr.
Pearson and myself stood on the bank and expected to see the horses' feet swept
from under them and my husband drowned. A few yards below the ford the water
fell over a precipice, and below this it did not run so fast, and was Deep, and
not so wide. Another boy offered to take Mr. Pearson and myself across in a
small boat that was so narrow at the bottom that we were afraid to draw a long
breath as it would tip from side to side and dip water. However he landed us on
the south side, and we resumed our journey through the mud in the darkness for
about a mile further, to a large brick house, and asked to be taken in for the
night. The gentleman of the house, whose name was Arnold, gave us a kindly
greeting as though we were not bespattered with mud, and had the appearance of
tramps; he had a good supper prepared and showed us to a nice warm room and
clean soft bed where we enjoyed a splendid night's rest after so many ups and
downs during the day. Mr. Arnold, on learning where we lived, asked us if we
knew a Cumberland Presbyterian preacher at Larissa named Crawford. On being told
that we knew him quite well, he informed us that Mrs. Crawford was his sister,
and turning to me requested me to tell Mrs. Crawford that we had staid with
him. On reaching home, I sent Mrs. Crawford word and she came the next day to
hear from her brother. He was a good man and treated us to the best he had, but
it seems she never heard from he or his family except through us, neither did we
ever hear from them again after we left their hospitable roof. It is strange
indeed that in the fifty years that have passed since I made this memorable
journey, I have never met a single person whom I met at that time except the
widow of Billy Bradford who lived near where Troup is now located and who lives
at Troup at this time. We crossed the Red River going and coming at the old town
of Fulton where it is said Davy Crockett crossed before he fell in defense of
the Alamo. We remained two days at Lindon in Cass county with some friends and a
Coffeville in Upshur county with the Newburys and on night with a Mr. Moss, a
substantial farmer near Jimtown in Smith county, then Omen, and next evening,
the 4th of March, 1863, we came in sight of my sister's hours. The trees were
green and her children were playing near the road and our little Helen that I
had not heard one word from in just two months was there too, and they and the
dogs set up such a shout of welcome that they brought my sister out, and permit
me to say that words cannot express and describe the feeling of joy on that
occasion, for after passing through dangers seen and unseen we were at home at
last. I would like to make mention of many good people I met while on this
perilous journey and of some places of interest but it would make my story to
long, besides after a lapse of so many years I have forgotten many thing though
not strange that I have for I am nearly eighty years old. But I must tell you
that the baby boy I carried on the long journey grew to manhood here at
Jacksonville and at this time is an honored citizen of Clarksville, Texas, whom
most of you know as Woody Spear. I will close this narrative by saying to the
Confederate Veterans, those were indeed trying days, but the women did their
whole duty in the Titanic struggle and I am proud of my record.
Mrs.
Amanda Spear
Jacksonville, Texas
January 15, 1913
This is an article from Jacksonville Texas News Paper February 7, 1913
Information provided by Sue Neely
