Governor Throckmorton succeeded in dispersing this avenging host, and General Sheridan, instead of sending a commission, reinforced the garrison and arrested some of the best citizens of the country.
The Hempstead garrison also had a band of marauders, headed by a desperate character, who occasionally attacked citizens at night and robbed them. This was the condition at Hempstead.
In the meantime I started a small general merchandise business at Courtney, with the assistance of my friend Cannon. While boarding at Cannon’s house I occupied a room with a Mr. White and son, from Tarrant County, who were there, ostensibly, to trade a flouring mill he had in Tarrant County for one of Cannon’s Brazos bottom plantations. I soon concluded that Mr. White had no flouring mill to trade and was imposing upon Mr. Cannon for his and his son’s board and also to recuperate his horses.
I also met at Mr. Cannon’s ex-Governor Morehead of Kentucky, who was then a refugee from the General Government. While rooming with Mr. White and his son, we had frequent discussions about the battles in Virginia, he claiming that he had served in that army, and his son on General Johnston’s staff. I noticed that Mr. Cannon showed these gentlemen a great deal of attention and frequently these three were seen in the woods, sitting on a log, talking. I was puzzled to know why it was that Mr. Cannon could be so easily imposed on by this man White.
Some months or more after they had left, and I had moved to the hotel down in town, I met Mr. Cannon on the street and he said to me, “I have just heard from Mr. White.” “Well, has he sold his flouring mill?” I asked. Cannon said, “No, you knew he had no flouring mill. You knew that it was General Wigfall and his son, Holsey.” I told him no, that I was unaware who he was, having only met General Wigfall one time at Raleigh, North Carolina, at a hotel, when he wore a heavy black beard, and at Courtney he was clean shaven. Cannon told me, when he heard from them, they were in Havana and would take a steamer the next day for Great Britain. I never knew what became of ex-Governor Morehead after he left Cannon’s, but do not think that he was ever arrested.
While at Courtney, I was called on by an old comrade, Ben Polk, in company with a friend of his by the name of T. J. Thorn, who were looking for a large plantation to lease. This they failed to find. Both had their old family set of negroes to work for them. Ben Polk went over on the Trinity, where he rented and cultivated a plantation, and Captain Thorn rented the Stevenson’s Ferry plantation, about six miles from the town of Hempstead, where he pitched a large crop of cotton and corn.
Several months after I happened to meet with Thorn at Hempstead, when he made a proposition to me to join in the cultivation of this crop, as he felt financially unable to carry it through.
After investigating his proposition, which was most liberal, and considering the further fact that the location presented a better opportunity for business than Courtney, I decided to accept and moved down there with my stock of merchandise, boarding my family in a friend’s home in Hempstead, as the house on the plantation was in bad repair. Captain Thorn also boarded his wife and two children with his father-in-law in Hempstead.
It was our custom to spend Sundays with our families in town, sometimes going in on Saturday night, returning Monday morning, and occasionally going in on Sunday morning.