But though still a boy in years, being not more than sixteen, his youth really came to an end now. It was the period of Reconstruction in the South—a time of obnoxious enforcements on the one hand, and rebellious bitterness on the other, with general lawlessness in the back settlements. The military dominated the towns and there were continuous misunderstandings between the still resentful conquered and the aggressive and sometimes insolent conquerors. Young McDonald, with the memory of his hero father, shot dead while leading his regiment against these men in blue, was in no frame of mind to submit to any indignity, real or fancied, at their hands. It happened just at this time that one Colonel Greene, a relative of the McDonalds, was murdered by negroes, who, being arrested, confessed the killing, stating that they had mistaken Greene for a mule-buyer supposed to have a large sum of money. The men were lodged in jail, but it was believed that under the "carpet-bag" military law then prevailing they would escape punishment. In later years, young McDonald was to become one of the most strenuous defenders of official procedure—one of the bitterest opponents of lynch-law the State of Texas has ever known; but he was hot-blooded in 'sixty-eight, and the situation was not one to develop moral principles. When, therefore, a mob formed and took the negroes out of jail and hanged them, there is no record of Bill Jesse having distinguished himself in their defense as he certainly would have done in later years. Indeed, it is likely that if he did not help pull a rope that night it was only because the rope was fully occupied with other willing hands.
Of course the military descended on Henderson and set in to discipline it for this concerted lawlessness. The townspeople as a whole, and the relatives of Colonel Greene in particular, resented this occupation. Charley Greene, a brother of the murdered man, in company with Bill Jess, presently got into trouble with some soldiers who were deporting themselves in a manner considered offensive, and the result was a running fight with the military in the lead. The soldiers made for their quarters in the court-house. It would have been proper to leave them alone, then—to retire flushed with victory, as the books say, and satisfied. But Greene could not rest. He persuaded Bill Jess to stay with him, and they rode up and down in front of the court-house, occasionally taking a shot at the windows, to punctuate their challenge to warfare. Finally Greene decided that they could charge the court-house and capture it. He primed himself with liquor for the onset, and refused to heed his companion's advice to abandon the campaign. The two ascended the court-house stairs, at last, with pistols cocked. Greene had one in each hand and, with them, shoved open the double doors at the head of the stairs. That was another mistake. The soldiers were "laying for him" just inside, and in an instant later his arms were pinioned, and he was a prisoner. The doors swung to, then, and Bill Jess stood outside, wondering whether he ought to charge to the rescue, wait there and be captured, or retire in good order. With that gift of logic and rare presence of mind which would one day make him famous, he decided to get out of there. He had a plan for organizing a rescue party, and did in fact get a crowd together, but in the meantime, under cover of rain and darkness, the soldiers had taken their prisoner from Henderson and he was well on the way to Jefferson, where there was a stockade. No attempt was made at the time to arrest young McDonald, though soldiers frequently loitered about his home premises, and with these he had many collisions, usually coming off victorious. He was strong, wiry and fearless, and he had then, as always, that piercing eye and a manner of going straight at things without flutter or hesitation.
Still, he was laying up trouble for himself, for Greene's court-martial was coming off, and Bill Jess, who went over to see if he could be of any assistance, was promptly arrested while nosing about the stockade, and landed with his relative on the inside. This was a serious matter. The boy realized that it was, as soon as the gates closed behind him. He realized it still more forcibly when a few days later he and Greene were led into the court-house for military trial, and he took a look at the men who were to prosecute him for aiding in the crime of treason. Nor was he reassured when one of the lawyers present announced that he would "defend that boy's case." For there was nothing inspiring about this champion's appearance. Nothing about him except his generosity seemed worth while. He wore ill-fitting home-spun clothes, smoked a common clay pipe and his long hair straggled down over his forehead. His shirt collar was carelessly unbuttoned, and his trousers, too short for him, revealed common home-knit yarn socks. Moreover, his eyes were half-closed and he had a general air of sleepy indifference which did not disappear until it came his turn to take part in the proceedings. Then suddenly the sleepy eyes became alive, the shaggy hair was tossed back, the clay pipe was laid on the table, and Dave Culberson, afterward known as an eminent lawyer and statesman, arose and made such a plea in behalf of the boy whose father had died at Corinth, and whose mother and sister relied on him to-day for protection, that only one verdict remained in the minds of his hearers when he closed. Bill Jess was acquitted, but his relative, Charley Greene, was less fortunate. He remained in a Northern prison several years before he was finally released. Dave Culberson afterward represented his district in Congress, and the boy he defended eventually served the son, Charles A. Culberson—then Governor—now, in 1909, United States Senator from Texas.
It is likely that this bit of experience with hot-headed lawlessness, and the result thereof, proved of immense value to young McDonald. From that time forward we find him a peace-maker, a queller of disturbances, a separator of combatants, even at great personal risk. He had never been a seeker after trouble and he seemed now to develop a natural talent for preserving the peace. Wherever guns are drawn, and they were drawn pretty frequently and upon small provocation in that day and locality, he stepped in without hesitation and the would-be slayers were disarmed by what seemed a veritable sleight-of-hand. In 1871, when he was nineteen years old, he decided to follow a commercial life, and with the money saved from the sale of the wood he had cut and hauled, he took a course in Soule's Commercial College, at New Orleans, graduating in 1872. Penmanship came easy to him, and upon his return to Henderson he taught a writing class. Within the year he was able to establish a small store in connection with the ferry at Brown's Bluff on the Sabine River, between Henderson and Longview. Here, with his ferry assistant he kept bachelor's hall, not the most congenial existence, perhaps, for one with his natural leaning toward female society. At all events, he gave it up, by and by, and after a brief sojourn in Longview established himself in Wood County, at Mineola, then a newly established and busy railway terminus. This was in 1875, and his venture was a success. Soon he was considered the leading grocer of the town.
It was during this period that McDonald made the acquaintance of James S. Hogg, who in later life, as Governor of Texas, was to confer his most useful official appointment—that of Ranger Captain, thus enabling him to do much of the work which has identified his name with the State's constructive history. Hogg, then a young man, was Justice of the Peace at the county-seat, Quitman, a few miles distant from Mineola, and was also conducting a paper there. He bought his groceries of McDonald, and the account ran along in a go-as-you-please sort of a way. They were good friends, and courted together, and it was through Hogg that young McDonald met Miss Rhoda Isabel Carter, a young woman with fine nerve and force of character—just the girl for a Texas regulator's wife. And such, in due season, she was to become, for he married her in January, 1876. His friendship for Hogg continued for some time after that, but came to a sudden end, one day, when Hogg, who had been elected County Attorney, with characteristic conscientiousness prosecuted McDonald and others for carrying concealed weapons—McDonald's possession of such a weapon having been revealed through his aiding in the capture of a gang of boisterous disturbers of the peace. McDonald rose and defended his own case, declaring he had quit business to do his duty as a good citizen, and that he would stay in jail the balance of his days before he would pay a fine.
With his usual frank fearlessness he said some hard things to Hogg in the presence of the court, and though discharged, the two were estranged for a considerable period. Then a truce was patched up, but only for a time. Both were sharply interested in politics and on opposing sides in the congressional convention. They were near coming to blows over their differences, and were only separated by the intervention of friends. It is not pleasant to record this of these two worthy men, but after all they were only human beings, and young, and then the sequel makes it still further worth while.
The Beginning of Reform