The ruling passion of her bosom seemed to be the maternal instinct, and she cherished the hope that when the war was concluded she would at last succeed in reclaiming her two children who were still with the Indians. But it was written otherwise, and Cynthia Ann and her little “barbarian” were called hence ere “the cruel war was over.” She died at her brother’s in Anderson county, Texas, in 1864, preceded a short time by her sprightly little daughter, “Prairie Flower.”
Thus ended the sad story of a woman far famed along the border.
* * * * * * * *
How fared it with the two young orphans we may only imagine. The lot of these helpless ones is too often one of trials, heart-pangs, and want, even among our enlightened people; and it would require a painful recital to follow the children of Peta Nocona and Cynthia Ann Parker from the terrible fight on Pease river, across trackless prairies, and rugged mountain-ways, in the inhospitable month of December, tired, hungry, and carrying a load upon their hearts far heavier than the physical evils which so harshly beset them. Their father was slain, and their mother a captive. Doubtless they were as intent upon her future recovery, during the many years in which they shared the vicissitudes of their people, until the announcement of her death reached them, as her own family had been for her rescue during her quarter of a century of captivity. One of the little sons of Cynthia Ann died some years after her recapture. The other, now known as Capt. Quanah Parker, born as he says in 1854, is the chief of Comanches, on their reservation in the Indian Territory.
Finally, in 1874, the Comanches were forced upon a “reservation,” near Fort Sill, to lead the beggarly life of “hooded harlots and blanketed thieves,” and it was at this place that the “war-chief” Quanah, learned that it was possible he might secure a photograph of his mother.[9]
[9]—Mr. A. F. Corning was at Fort Worth in 1862, when Cynthia Ann Parker passed through there. He (Mr. C.) prevailed on her to go with him to a daguerreotype gallery (there were no photographs then) and have her picture taken. Mr. Corning still has this daguerreotype, and says it is an excellent likeness of the woman as she looked then. It is now at the Academy of Art, Waco, and several photographs have been taken from it, one of which was sent to Quanah Parker, and another to the writer, from which the frontispiece to this work was engraved.
An advertisement to that effect was inserted in the Fort Worth Gazette, when General Ross at once forwarded him a copy. To his untutored mind it seemed that a miracle had been wrought in response to his “paper prayer;” and his exclamations, as he gazed intently and long upon the faithful representation of “Preloch,” or Cynthia Ann, were highly suggestive of Cowper’s lines on his mother’s picture; and we take the liberty of briefly presenting a portion of the same in verse:
My mother! and do my weeping eyes once more—
Half doubting—scan thy cherished features o’er?
Yes, ’tis the pictured likeness of my dead mother,