The Texas Quote of the Day is a DANDY description of life in Texas in 1827 by the man who lived it, Noah Smithwick. As we pick up Smithwick's narrative, he's just arrived in Bell's Crossing, now West Columbia.
The social life was as simple as the daily routine. There were no churches or schools yet, but the settlers gathered for dances, barbecues, and weddings, which were the great events. A wedding was a community affair; everybody came from miles around, bringing what they could—venison, wild turkey, or a jug of corn whiskey. The women cooked for days, and the feast was spread on puncheon tables under the trees. The bride usually wore a homespun dress, maybe dyed with walnut hulls or indigo, and the groom sported his best hunting shirt. There was no preacher nearer than San Felipe, so the ceremony was often performed by the alcalde, or, in a pinch, by any respectable citizen who could read the service from a prayer book.
I recall one wedding at Bell’s Landing where Aylett Buckner acted as master of ceremonies. The groom was a young fellow named Tompkins, who had come from Tennessee, and the bride was a McNeal girl. The couple stood under an oak tree, with the crowd gathered round, and Buckner read the service with as much solemnity as if he’d been a bishop. After the “I do’s,” the fiddles struck up—there was always a fiddler or two in the settlement—and we danced till midnight. The women had baked cornbread and bear meat, and there was a barrel of whiskey that kept things lively. One old fellow got so full of “tanglefoot” that he fell into the river, and we had to fish him out, but he was none the worse and danced till morning.
There was no regular amusement, like theaters or such, but the settlers made their own fun. The men hunted and fished, and the women had their quilting bees and sewing circles. Sometimes we’d have a shooting match, with a beef or a turkey for a prize. Everybody turned out, and the women cheered the shooters as heartily as the men. The young folks courted openly; there was no hiding about it, for the cabins were too small for secrets. If a fellow wanted to spark a girl, he’d ride ten or twenty miles to her father’s place, and, if she liked him, they’d sit on the porch or walk down to the creek, with the whole family knowing it.
The Indians were a constant worry in those days. The Karankawas, who lived along the coast, were the worst. They were tall, strong fellows, and they’d steal anything they could lay hands on—horses, cattle, or provisions. We had to keep a sharp lookout, and every man slept with his rifle loaded. The Comanches were farther west, but they raided now and then, and a settler’s wife had to be as ready to shoot as her husband. I remember one woman, Mrs. Hibbins, who drove off a Karankawa with a skillet when he tried to steal her chickens. She chased him half a mile, swinging that skillet and yelling like a wildcat.
Life was hard, but it was free. There was no law but what the settlers made themselves, and no taxes to speak of. A man could take up land, build a cabin, and call it home, with no one to tell him nay. The women were as stout-hearted as the men, and many a time I’ve seen a woman chop wood, milk a cow, or ride to warn neighbors of Indians, with a baby tied to her back. Texas was a young man’s country, but it was the women who made it a home."
---- Noah Smithwick, "Evolution of a State: Or Recollections of Old Texas Days," 1900
Shown here: the intense face of Noah Smithwick in old age. He knew William Travis, Sam Houston, and Stephen F. Austin personally, in Texas.