The Murder of John Sunday

"Every journey into the past is complicated with delusions, false memories, false names of real events"...Adrienne Rich 

I came across the mention of the Sunday family when I was peering into the life of Charles Pinkney Owens.  He married a Charlotte Sunday, John's youngest daughter, whose birth records did not match with her marriage records, specifically her name and age were off slightly.  She is listed on the license as Charlotte Sundike and her age did not list her at her tender 13 years but made her 16 years old. As years passed Pinkney's wife referred to herself as Charlotte Sunday Owens, so there is no doubt of her lineage.   All this was good and golden as approved by the justice of the peace who married them and signed the license, the honorable WSB Owens.  
John Sunday, whose people were from Holland, was the owner of the Sunday plantation in Escambia, Florida Territory.  One of his daughters, Barbara, was married to Elijah McCurdy.  This is important because McCurdy was in the infantry with Joseph Owens in the war of 1812.  McCurdy and Joseph and John Sunday were friends I suspect and I read somewhere that John Sunday also was found at the Navy Yard in Pensacola, the same yard where Joseph Owens worked. 
 In 1832, The month before their marriage, Pink Owens and Charlotte Sunday had a beautiful baby girl, so one could deduce that the happy couple biblically knew each other prior to filing the record of the marriage.  It wasn't too long after that  Pink, WSB Owens and Elijah Mccurdy were made executers of John Sunday's will. 
I like to think of John Sunday as a free thinker, though he was a slave owner, he had more liberal thoughts on the matter.  After his children were older, his wife became ill.  He purchased two slaves to nurse his wife back to health.  The slaves were Jinny Rosa and Jinny's mother.  Jinny Rosa was said to be beautiful.  I read a description of her that she was too fair skinned to be in the slave quarters and too black to be in the main house. She had green eyes and light hair.  She was so beautiful she would make any white wife uncomfortable and so she was sold several times and finally ended up at the Sunday plantation.
John's wife succumbed to her illness and was buried by her adoring family.  John Sunday kept Jinny and her mother working in the house.  

Legend had it that he fell madly in love with Jinny.  He eventually lived openly with her and had four children (Harrison, Amanda Merced, David and John) by her which also lived in the house.  For her birthday, when asked what she wanted for a gift, Jinny did the unheard of and asked for her freedom and the freedom of her children and any children she would have in the future.  It was a spoken request that could have gotten her killed, but to everyone's surprise, John Sunday granted her wish and filed for her manumission papers for Jinny and their children within that week.  
Florida was changing, the Seminole Indian war was ended.  Creoles and freemen were taking their place in society and the talk on everyones' tongues were of states rights and slavery.   
Not everyone was in agreement with Sunday's turn of heart.  
Much speculation as to the events that occurred a year later lay heavily connected with the freeing of Jinny and her children.  So as I relate the story, it is of my understanding of it, based off of the few records that I could read of the events occurring in the years to follow. I hope to one day disprove this, but grant me this time to lay the words down so that I can mull them over, like one 
consider a bitter wine difficult to swallow.  
One evening as John was enjoying the company of his young children by the fireplace, without warning, was shot in the head.  According to testimony, a slave named Andrew drew a pistol worth ten dollars and shot John Sunday between the eyes.    
Immediately making the papers, the story drew great attention.  There was a trial of young Andrew where he was convicted of murder and was hanged. As WSB Owens assumed the estate as the executor, he removed Jinny and her children from the house to his own plantation, in the slave quarters. During the unrest, it all seemed logical, but no documents can answer my questions:  

• why was Charles Pinkney and WSB Owens on the grand jury that indicted Andrew?  
• Where did a slave purchase a $10 gun (now days that would be like a person with no income purchasing an object worth $242 according to the measuringworth.com calculator)? 
• The laws in Florida in 1831 strictly forbid any black (free or slave) to own a firearm.  So who would sell it to him and how did he become so proficient with it that he could get off a head shot?  

In the trial, Andrew professed his innocence and continued up until he was hung.  Seeing that the whole murder was ill investigated and  it was just months after the death of John Sunday, Pink Owens and WSB Owens began liquidating the Sunday plantation, that I began to ponder the role of the Owens boys in the murder of the Sunday patriarchal head.  
An underaged Charlotte gets pregnant and weds Charles Pinkney Owens.  Pink and WSB and Mccurdy becomes executers to the will and then shortly after Jinny was freed, John was shot by a slave, who was hanged immediately after trial.  During 1839-1841, the Sunday estate was liquidated.
It was noted that McCurdy had made some statements that made one think that he was interested in protecting Sunday's white children's inheritance.  There are countless records of lawsuits being filed on behalf of the dead John Sunday by the Owens' to collect any debt owed the plantation.  Then all property seems to be sold off (over $30,000), the white Sunday boys got $1500 each approximately and Jinny and her children were taken to the Owens plantation to live back in slave quarters.  It all is circumstantial but doesn't it smell of a plot. No one knows what happened to the $30,000.  It was a decade later that 39 Owens family members left Florida for the Gulf Coastal Plains of Texas, on a ship they owned.    
On a side note:
Jinny, with the help of her dear friend, filed a complaint against WSB Owens in the Florida court saying that she and her children were free and that she had been kidnapped by WSB Owens.  After she produced her manumission papers, she won her and her family's freedom and WSB went subsequently unpunished.  She later sought the Parish Bishop's blessing and was granted the first catholic church for blacks and creoles, so they could participate in the worship. 

At first, I thought that Jinny's children could be the Griffin children, and their names changed by Owens, but Harrison (Jinny's oldest) later became a well respected cabinet maker and carpenter in Florida, and the other children had successful lives in Florida.  
Following WSB and Pink Owens like I have, would it surprise me to know that they would kill John Sunday and use the money to better their situation? That they would devise a way to get onto Sunday's will by using a vulnerable 12 or 13 year old daughter? That they would steal an inheritance away from the Sunday children, providing only a pittance and a schooling?  As the plot thickens, I recognize his cold hearted ways.  I believe he or Pink or Elijah McCurdy murdered John Sunday and reaped all the rewards.  It leads me no closer to the Griffin children and their mother. With the plantation liquidated by 1841, that would have put Horace 4 or five years old.  I do not believe that the Griffin children came from the Sunday plantation, per say.  I think the timeline would not fit their ages.  But as I continue to thumb through the dusty tombs, I continue to redefine my image of my ancestors with a jaundiced eye of a researcher with modern idealisms.  

Joseph Owens, the man and the mystery

Joseph Owens, the first and only picture I have seen

The only reasons to really discuss Joseph Owens, the patriarchal head of the family, is because he was one of the moving forces from North Carolina to South Carolina, to Florida and then to Texas.  I often pondered why he would pick up a young family from territory that he carved out his livelihood with sweat and blood and move again into uncharted, unsettled territories.  Then once this land was settled, move again with unheard of costs of land, possessions and lives.  I read an excerpt from a family narrative that he had heard of the gold rush in California and was making his way from Florida to California when he landed in Texas.  It is just speculation, but after fighting the War of 1812 as a young man and the Seminole Indian wars in Florida as a middle-aged man, perhaps it is possible he was ready to stop fighting and actually settle down. Crossing from Texas to California in a wagon and ox carts does not really seem so appealing, knowing one would encounter Apache, Comanches, illness and injuries.  Perhaps Texas appealed to him as it did WSB Owens with its "wide open fields of waving grass, its plentiful wild life" and the wide, colorful skies.  

The facts known of Joseph Owens are few.  There was family speculation and narrative that suggested his father was killed in the Revolutionary War.  Another narrative is that three brothers immigrated from Wales to the Carolinas, enrollee through Barbados, then to Charleston.    I know with some uncertainty that he was born in North Carolina and from there moved to Orangeburg, South Carolina with a father that may be named William Owens.  Here in Charleston, SC he met his wife Elizabeth Bennett, the niece of the famous Governor Thomas Bennett.  

Governor Bennett House at Christmas

The Bennett plantation still exists and I find it intoxicatingly  beautiful.  If one can get over the fact that humans were sold, killed, hung and beaten on this land, then you can rent it out for weddings and celebrations.  That being said, it is lovely and it calls to me.  Forgive me, but knowing my great great great grandmother spent her Christmas in this house draws me to it.  I do recognize that it was not all sweet tea and peaches.  It is this love of history that pushes me to look for Cherry Ann so that we can all know our ancestors.   As I strive to find her, I find my ancestors and my connection to land I have not laid eyes upon.  

Beautiful Bride At the Governor Bennett house

This unknown man Joseph marries into the influential South Carolina family in Spartanburg in 1800 when he was 25 years old.  Joseph has several children born to him which he leaves to enlist in Rutledges' forces 3rd Regiment South Carolina Troops in 1812.  Joseph Owens manages to survive a bloody campaign.  He returns to his wife and then takes her and their children to territories unknown.

South Carolina Regiment flag 1812

 In 1830, He settles in Escambia, Florida and then in Santa Rosa Territory in Florida.  He is followed by a son, a daughter and a boy I am going to suggest could be his grandson that he claims for his own son.  There has always been this hanging family secret that we are not Owens, but Bealls.  Nancy Owens married a Dr. Hebreden Beall who gets conveniently taken to Capitol prison during the Civil War for a number of years only to return to his first wife in Alabama, where he gives a medical knowledge legacy to his sons and their sons and their grandsons who eventually start up the Cook's County Hospital for Children (after they marry into a Texas Oil family)  Could I make this stuff up?  Nancy being left falsely married and with small child moves from South Carolina, away from the Bennetts and the society to the wild territory of Florida where it is suggested that the small boy William Swinton Bennett Owens is from Joseph and becomes Nancy's young brother.  There is absolutely no documentation, but only cackling from the Owens women.  

Map of Pensacola Navy Yard and Fort Pickens

There is documentation that Joseph Owens worked in the Navy port of Pensacola, although my father tells me Joseph Owens was a teacher.  I wonder if he was a scholar or if he was a layman. Not much is known of his service.  
He then moved to Texas in 1851-1853.  There was some documentation that as early as 1841, they were making trips to Texas in preparation for the move.

Welcome in the Victoria Advocate Newspaper

 

He moved all 38 members of his family, and at least three slaves on the USS Governor Bennett and sailed from the Pensacola port into Powder Horn port, what is now known as Indianola, Texas.  He settled in Goliad, Texas.  Lived his life there for five more years and then in 1860, he died.  He wrote a letter a year before his death saying that he would visit his son up by San Marcos area if his health is still good.  That letter sits in the Goliad Museum, but his gravestone sits in the Blackburn cemetery, long forgotten and forever lost.  His wife, Elizabeth, lived another 4 years as a widow, after her death at age 75 years old, she too was buried beside Joseph in the Blackburn Cemetery, wherever that may be.  My father asked that if I ever come across the graves, to mark their GPS so that it will not be lost completely.  I have yet to be successful at this.  I believe Joseph to have a heart that yearns for the next adventure.  I doubt he was frightened of anything.  

The Orange Mystery, South Carolina and My Grudge Against a General

I was reading a biographical article about the Griffins that was published in a San Antonio Register written in 1996. It was titled "Legacy of the Griffins: A black family that beat the odds in 1896" It was filled with mistakes and misinformation, but it was my first glimpse of Horace Griffin's opinion on the matter of being a slave and coincidentally to my ancestor WSB Owens.  One of the most bizarre things that I keep coming back to is that the Griffin family remembered the slave owner named Bill Orange, from the Orange plantation.  I dismissed this as a mispronunciation ( Bill Owens vs Bill Orange), but then I remembered that WSB and Joseph Owens were from Orangeburg, SC at one point in time.  What if the Griffin children were from the Orangeburg plantation?  Like a hound dog, I was off and running.  

calatopia plantation front drive

The only plantation (although I know that this cannot be the only plantation existing for the Owens) was the Calatopia plantation in Orangeburg.  It is connected to a Samuel Owens.  One must know that I often have a  misconception that the Owens family is small, therefore easy to find, and very few live in the small settlement of Orangeburg in 1776, but who am I kidding?  So far, every Owens child has born 15 other children and those decedents have 17 children and so on.  I came from a family of 5 myself.  Knowing this reproduction statistic, the Owens family in the 1770s could have been thousands.  I start looking and find Samuel Owens, the owner of Calatopia, who makes a shocking revelation in his will, of all places, that his wife admitted to being pregnant with another man's child (no names listed of this marriage vow violation).  I realize that all this dying and willing of lands really happened long after Joseph was born.  The timing was in the 1860s when the Owens were already in Texas, so Calatopia could not be ours. I am looking for something in 1800 or soon after 1776.   As i continue to look at the dates
I also discover a plantation in Florida that I was thrilled to find, because it belonged to Reverend J Owens.  I cannot tell you how I was just happy that finally there was a man of God in the family which was quickly squashed when I realized he too had slaves.  
Just focusing on Orangeburg, South Carolina is important because Joseph Owens is said to have lived here in 1800.  There is some information about his parents.   It is thought that his father was a William Owens and his mother a Fanny Kennedy (yep a Kennedy).  There is very little documentation to prove this.  I literally can take the Bennett side of the family tree across the ocean to Scotland and England when Cromwell was chopping off the family's heads, but the Owens side I can only trace to Joseph (1775 -1860)with documentation.  

It was only today that I learned when General Sherman was marching to the sea and burning buildings, he did my family a world of hurt.  The records for deeds as well as census and wills were moved to Columbia, SC in 1865 for safe keeping during the war, where Sherman used them for fuel during his occupation. Imagine the historical scar we will suffer from this flagrant disregard of historical records, and an outrageous love of destruction. 

Columbia South Carolina after Sherman's March

The destruction of Sherman's March in Columbia, SC

That being known, this interesting lead evolved from combing through twenty documents that were left from the fires that had some Joseph Owens something or other.  One little document, which was a petition to Craven County, SC by Joseph Owens, sent me on a Google documentation search frenzy and I discovered that in Craven County there were two boys William and John I who were the sons of Micajah Calhoon Solomon Owens (if I had another boy, I would name him Micajah Calhoon).  So could Solomon be the father to William who was the father to Joseph who was the father (or grandfather) to WSB who sold Cherry Ann?  I am giddy with details because knowing where they came from could link me to sales and deeds of Cherry Ann and her mother.  
One thing to note is that Micajah Calhoon Solomon loved his wife and called her his Beloved in his will, which I found endearing.  I do love a long standing romance.  
The other amazing thing about Micajah Calhoon Solomon and his will was that it was written and witnessed in Orangeburg District, but filed in Craven Courts.  Am I leaning too heavily on some slim connection?  There is no other mention of Joseph Owens.  
Just going back to Craven County Plats (requests for maps of boundaries acres of land)....I discovered this one fact Joseph is consistently paired with a Benjamin Owens.  This may be the rumored brothers...from a rumor I cannot substantiate in any way, that two Owens brothers came from Wales and settled in the Carolinas.  This whole Solomon Owens and Samuel Owens families ended up in Florida, but not Milton or Pensacola but further south.  It was like an Owens invasion into Florida.  With the slaves.  In all of the wills I read, very little was about their slaves.  They did mention the buying of one or two who were 16 or 14 years old.  Some were provided in the will, them and any that they "increased".  After all I have read, I gained a smorgasbord of useless information.   I do know that Joseph enlisted in the War of 1812, from Orangeburg, SC.  I do know he may have petitioned about some land in NC, where he could have been born.  I do know that all of the wills that I have read, the husbands either loved or hated their wives and took pains to mention it. And all seemed fond of their buckets of lard enough to mention them in a legal document as a valued possession.  Never once mentioning any rum, whiskey or wine. Nothing about an Orange plantation.  This is the useless information I will ponder.    

Robert Owens, second son

  

Robert Jackson Owens was WSB Owens' second son, born August 25, 1835.  Robert was 18 years old when he migrated to Texas.  He married Priscilla Ellen Gusset(who was 16 years old at the time), in 1856 on Valentines day.  For eight years Robert and Priscilla lived in the Fort Inge, Uvalde and Coleman County areas and produced five children.

John J Dix posted a flyer in the newspapers

TEXAS RANGERS ATTENTION!

DO NOT WAIT TO BE DRAFTED

The undersigned having been authorized by his excellency, the Governor, to raise a company of Rangers, under the provisions of the frontier of Texas, and approved December 21, 1861, has been granted the privilege to receive men from any portion of the State, with a view to select the very best material the country affords, that efficient service may be rendered. The act requires each man to furnish his own horse, arms and accoutrements, and I need not say that I wish them to be of the best kind available—double-barreled shot guns, light rifles and six-shooters, if possible.

The pay offered by the State Government is very liberal and equal to the most favored troops in the service—equal to the pay of any troops of the same class in the Confederate Army.
All persons desirous of availing themselves of this last opportunity of serving their State, are invited to rendezvous at Concrete, De Witt co., on the Guadalupe river, on the last day of February, 1862, for the purpose of enrollment and organization the following day, from which time they will be provided for by the Government.
JOHN J. DIX
McMullen Co., Feb. 11, 1862.

Robert served in the Texas military in 1862-63 as a private under Captain John J. Dix Company H Texas Frontier Regiment and received a total of $1054.57( or there about) for his military efforts ($12 a day plus 40 cents for his horse, minus his clothing issued in the amount of $31.54, plus and minus other expenses).  He served from August 9th, 1862 until February 4 1863.  During this time, the Texas Rangers were stationed at the two bases, one in Camp Dix (Uvalde-Sabinal Road at the Frio river) and the other Camp Nueces (san antonio-eagle pass road where it crosses the Nueces river).  They would leave base on patrol with one Lt and five privates and prevent Indians, Mexican raiders from attacking, and draft dodgers from escaping.  

In 1864, as the story goes according to Jesse Sumpter,  a man and his wife of the Wood family (camp wood, reading wood black, etc) left to Eagle Pass to purchase supplies.  They left their 14 year old daughter and their 12 year old son in the care of "a negro man and a Mexican man".  The day after Wood left, the Mexican murdered the boy by beating his brains out with a club while the boy was asleep.  The beat the Negro and left him for dead.  He took the girl and started for the Rio Grande.  "The negro regained consciousness and sent out the alarm to Wood and his wife at Eagle Pass, who immediately returned."  All ranchmen and troops were notified.  Three days after the boys murder, the Mexican and the girl reached a ranch four miles below Eagle Pass on the bank of the Rio Grande.  The ranchman saw the Mexican coming towards his house but also saw the girl's dress in the as she was hiding brush where she had been instructed to stay.  The ranchman guessed this was the kidnapped girl.  The rancher threw his gun and captured the Mexican, tied him up and went after the girl.  The rancher took both the girl and the captured Mexican to Fort Duncan and delivered them to Captain Hiram Mitchell.  Wood, his wife and the Owens boys (Robert and others) arrived to the fort three days later and the Mexican prisoner was turned over to them with the intention that they would deliver him to the proper Uvalde authorities.  In the evening, they took the murderous Mexican behind the hills of the San Antonio Road just out of site and built a fire.  Some troops gathered as well as the Mexican population, thinking there would be a hanging, but instead, as the fire was being built, they began to mutilate the Mexican.  They cut off his nose, his ears, his other members of his body.  They stuck their knives in his hands and feet "and split them out".  Finally they threw him in the fire.  He struggled to get out but they continued to burn him until he died.  Jesse Sumpter stated that he did not want to be part of the lynching he thought would occur, and had not stayed.  He had no idea they would torture the captured Mexican.  

Nueces River near Camp Wood

Then Woods and Robert Owens went across into Mexico to get provisions from Piedras Negras, Coah. Mexico.  Woods took his provisions immediately back, but Robert lingered.  He became drunk and boasted of taking part of the torture and killing.  He still had blood on his boots, as he so pointed out to the patrons at the bar, which enraged the Mexicans.  Jesse Sumpter heard some shots ring out across the river and he saw Robert Owens running down the bank of the river, jump into the water and start to swim across.  The Mexicans ran up the the edge of the water and emptied their pistols at Owens, apparently missing him.  As a ferry boat crossed the river, Owens swam to it.  With intention of boarding it, he caught hold of the boat as though to raise himself into it.  The Mexicans standing on the bank of the river yelled "Matalo" (kill him).  The boatman struck at Owens with a pole, missing Owens but successfully getting him off the ferry edge.  Owens drifted downstream and a skiff was crossing toward Mexico.  Owens made for the skiff and grabbed on as if to climb aboard.  The Mexican rowing the skiff put down one oar and very leisurely, got up and took the other and hit Owens in the head with it.  Owens was not seen again until nine days later when he rose to the top of the water.  Every skiff man made for the body and dragged him out on the bank on the Mexico side.  Owens' brother, seeing that the body was left on the bank after a time, sent over for permission to bring the body back. "Come over and take the dog away" was the reply.  Owens sent some men over and placed the body in a coffin and took it away to be buried.  Robert was survived by his wife, Priscilla, and five children William Milton, Mary Jane, Arena Priscilla, Robert Jackson and Albert Jackson Lee.  Arena Priscilla never married but lived with her mother and William, the oldest son, would later die in a shoot out in New Mexico over a 50 cent debt.  The killing of Robert Owens is detailed in the book "Paso del Aguila" where Jesse Sumpter records his memoirs.  

My trip to Uvalde and the Heartbreaking find about Hagar

For whatever reason, and whatever bee got in my bonnet, I decided to travel to Uvalde, Texas and search for some graves and documents and maybe a museum.  I did find Jane Heart Griffin and her daughter Cherrie Ann (when I first saw these names, I had palpations, but the dates do not add up and this Cherrie Ann could not have been Horace's sister, born in or about 1853.  This was his first wife, Jane and his first daughter, Cherri Ann.  The naming of his daughter after his long lost baby sister was a tender moment for me.  Sadly both died of small pox epidemic that swept through Texas.  
I found some documents for WSB Owens, his name on over 12 documents, mostly buying of property.  The best thing I was directed to was a lovely lady named Belia Romo, a historian extraordinaire.  She directed me to several books, but actually pulled a file of narratives and documents that the library had researched over the years at the request of a local judge.  In these documents, I found more narratives about the killing of the sheriff (which I think initially sparked the judges' interest as did mine), some narratives about the true reason Robert was killed, and the most heartbreaking paragraph about Hagar.  It basically said that in the preparation to move to Uvalde, WSB Owens signed a hand written contract in Karnes County with a Warren Cass.  The two men agreed that WSB Owens would purchase an ox cart and three yoke of oxen (6?) for $242.50 to be paid before November 21, 1857 for the security of the payment "a certain negro girl named Hager aged about ten years."  Cass would be required to feed and clothe her at his expense and if said "negro shall die before redelivering the money then and that case this obligation be considered null and void".  I sat in the truck reading this and let it hit me.  He sold her.  She was only 10 or 11 years old.  Sold to a perfect stranger in Karnes County.  Not where he lived, not where he was going to live.  Of course you know I immediately started looking for a Warren Cass during that era and found a german man from Fredericksburg area who was drug out of his house and hanged for Sedition against the Confederacy by the Der Hangdebrande.  I could not prove that this was Hagar's temporary master.  Laying in bed, and finally closing my laptop, I thought about Hagar and that fateful day.  Two years prior, she was taken from her mother and the life she knew, then for oxen and cart, taken away from her two brothers.  Did Horace truly just sit there and not cry when he saw his sister roll off into the distance.  How did he continue to serve this master?  The mother in me wonders what her days and nights consisted of.  Was she brutalized? Raped? Beaten? Starved? Who would protect her, only the sensibilities of the Cass man?  I am sickened and realize that no matter how hardened one is by war and death, the victimization of a small girl cannot be justified in a man's heart.  As she pleaded not to go, was he not touched in some way? Was it really as if he sold a horse or a dog? Surely he had some sense of right and wrong to know that in that moment he negotiated the deal, WSB Owens had sinned against God and humanity.  Not George, Horace or Buck Owens would ever be the same...nor would my view of him.  

Hagar Griffin

From the first moment I read her name, Hagar Griffin, I wondered about her.  She was just a small girl and living 700 miles from her mother.  I believe she was 9 or 10 years old when she left for Texas in 1853.  I believe that whole time prior to her migration to Texas, she lived with her mother.  I had read somewhere (lord only knows where in the now thousands of documents I have read late at night), that she may have died when she was 16 years old.  I have never been able to prove it nor have I seen that sentence since.  Ever since I have made contact with the Griffin descendants, I have found more records.  I sometimes imagine it as a book that grows pages.  I look back to my original research and another hint or document is uncovered.  I was searching graves again and low and behold, Hagar Griffin buried in a Houston Cemetery.  I couldn't wait to tell the Griffin family.  Then I found her death certificate.  This told me several things: her age, that her descendants did not know where she came from only Florida and that she married a David King and she was a widow.  Also her birthdate.  Her address is there as well, and I googled it... there is a car wash established there now, but if you go to the next block, there are some lovely houses. 

The Griffin Family Cemetery

A new lesson I learned was that after the Juneteenth, free men and women "of color" could be buried with their names on a stone.  They may not be buried in the same public city cemeteries, but some blessed person in each community is making historic efforts in documenting the location of the cemetery and the who is buried in it.  This makes lineage easier to track.  My father said that WSB Owens was buried in the 6 mile cemetery and not only can I confirm that but also can see a picture of it.  
As I do on my mornings off, I start with a cup of coffee and with hopes high with a random search.  I typed in "Griffin" and "cemetery" and was blessed.  There it was, not a secret at all, but an amazing discovery for me! The Griffin Family Cemetery!  There are 9 interments and with one deep breath, I pressed a button and there it was. The gravestone of Horace Griffin, the young boy who endured the cruelty of slavery, of losing his mother, trekking across the Gulf of Mexico in a boat, of defending against Indian attacks,  the Texas weather and all sorts of suffering.  

Horace Griffin May 5 1839 Died June 30, 1914

He lived until the age of 75 years one month and 25 days! He lived! He knew freedom for the first time of his life. He moved to Wetmore, Texas (which is now part of San Antonio).  They had purchased some land and made a cemetery.  
And George is here! 
Even though it list George as unknown, I came across records that listed him as living from 1842 - 1909, 67 years.  As anyone can see, Horace outlived George.

Another glaring fact is that all of the names listed, there was no Hagar.  No mother. No Cherry Ann.  

George Griffin unknown

But the thing I did with this information is ran a family tree with it hoping to pick up any descendants of the Griffin Children.  I know this is a late thought, but it took me a while to think outside the box.  I mean, my father and I still exist.  What is to say that the Griffin family is not also thriving.  I ran it forwards and came across one name.  A direct descendant of Horace, and she was lovely.  She had started a Griffin Family Tree and I could easily contact her on the message board.  I found her on Facebook and then I found another.  Did I have the courage to contact them?  What was I going to say "Um excuse me, but I am one of the descendants of your ancestors owners?  I am researching for my own selfish needs and can you share some information?"  Lord I could not, would not wish to bring that retribution on my head.  They have every right to ignore me, block me, despise my family.  I knew of their existence for over a month before I could get up the courage to contact them.  Even in telling my friends about this, they would just stare at me, gaped mouth.  Are you kidding? You want to contact them? I had thought long and hard about it.  I knew something about my ancestors, but not the whole truth.  What if it was the same for them?  What if they always knew about Cherry Ann?  What if the mother had reunited with the children?  Then my search was over.  

I messaged her.  It was awkward.  I prayed about it. 

 "I am hesitant to approach you, but I had noticed that your tree had little information on Horace Griffin, and I have some information on how he came to be in Uvalde from Florida. I am quite shocked as this part of my family history has not been spoken of ever and I am just recently finding information about this. This part of my history is a shame to me and I am trying to reconcile myself to it. When I found both Horace Griffin and Hagar on your tree, I knew these were two of the three slaves that were brought to Texas by my ancestors when they were 17, and 13 years old. George Griffin was only 9 years old. They were owned by William Swinton Bennett Owens, (though the thought is disgusting to me), I wanted you to know this for your ancestors tree. As the family stories were lost to several generations, I am slowly rebuilding them. I noticed that you too have little on your tree and I wanted you to know your family as well. I will continue to search the plantation in which I think the Griffin family was connected to. I understand if you want to block me."

I didn't look at the messages for days for fear of rejection.  I completely understood the predicament.  Then I got a sweet message! 

Thank you so much for reaching out!

From what little I know, Horace and his siblings were sold and brought to Texas due to their previous owner having debts and needing to money to keep his grist mill. If you can find out what happened to Horace's mother and what her name was that would be great. Also, if his father's name is known that would be great. 

Please let me know everything you can find out.
Please know that you are not held accountable for what your ancestors did. They were caught up in a system that was hard to detach from due to the livelihood the system provided. You are very brave to reach out. Not many people would do that.
By the way, what was the name of the plantation?

Looking forward to hearing from you.

It was the beginning of crossing one of the unspoken barriers.  The sharing of information between the  families.  Her loving attitude completely disintegrated my awkwardness and we had crossed the barrier together.  By the way, I still don't know the name of the "plantation".  I never even knew we had one.  I still don't think we ever had a true plantation.  I once found an article in a journal that was about the survival of the Griffin family.  It was full of holes of information and misinformation.  The article mentioned that they were from the Bill Orange plantation.  I asked daddy if ever there was an orange plantation and he said not that he knew.  He told me that in the 70s, a black man came into the lumber yard where he worked and called him Mr. Orange.  He said he was saying Owens, but it sounded like orange. In the article, the Griffins referred to my ancestor as Bill Orange, our family called him "Buck" or "Swint" Owens.  It was obvious that the spoken word and the written word made another barrier.  I imagined Horace's mother looking for Bill Orange and never finding them.  

The Gristmill

I don't remember where I had read that Horace, Hagar and George had a little sister named Cherry Ann.  It had to be connected to someone's ancestor tree or some narrative.  I know it was not my imagination.  I read that the Griffin children were taken away from their mother and baby sister and had assumed that it was because they were moving to Texas with WSB Owens.  Then within a small span of time, I learned that the mother and subsequently the infant was traded for a gristmill.  I began to diligently comb through internet records of gristmills and unbeknown to me, there were quite a few gristmills in the 1800s.  If i could find the gristmill WSB owned, then we could find who we traded Mrs. Griffin and Cherry Ann to.  Unfortunately, things are never as easily done as my mind would wish.  

First is the barrier of the records.  As shocking as this is, not every document is on the internet.  I find, in fact, that most court documents post an index of their records, but you have to physically go in and locate the document, make a copy of such document in order to have access to it.  Also you have to pay for the document.  If you are just talking about 10 records at one dollar per copy, then no big deal, but if you are talking about 90 documents, then it starts hitting the ole pocket book.  If you are talking about records in your county, not so bad...about records in Escambia County, 733 miles away, it becomes a little more pricey.  

Secondly, slaves don't have birth records.  This also is my naivety showing, but I didn't know that the Deeds were where the established lineage may be traced, if your ancestors traded, bought inherited or sold slaves, and if they had a name written.  I found some like this: "and to my daughter charlotte, I leave my negro Crissy and any subsequent children she may have and the negro Lundy who works with the horses, also my kitchen pots and pans, the corner hutch and key, the old white mare and the ole grey mule that kicked Aunt Gussie in the jaw last Christmas." Ridiculous.  It was glaring reality into the past that the slaves were considered cattle.  I am not so blind or guarded that I had not heard this, but until you see the audacity of it in your own ancestors wills and deeds, it is easy to imagine that it only in extreme cases with horrible evil slave masters.  Slaves were an investment and an expense. They were property.  They were documented as such. 

Third, some slaves have no names listed.  This I cannot understand.  I saw a transaction where some poor beggar drew every cattle brand out that was to be listed in the transaction.  Twenty different brands meticulously drawn on a bill of sale.  Every horse with a brand.  You cannot tell me that the slaves were nameless.  It is just pure outrageousness that they would be listed as Negro one, two, three and big arms Joseph. The names too changed.  Sometimes the last name (if they took a last name) changed with the owners.  There were many times that I wished the Owens name was attached to each slave the Owens bought.   

I also wished that Gristmills were named for the past owners so that they too could be traced.  But there was no luck.  It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I learned it was possible that WSB didn't trade for a mill but for the use of it.  He owed money to the owner of the gristmill and in order to pay for his debt, WSB may have sold the mother and Cherry Ann to settle the debt.  I don't know if this was a straight trade for service or if he sold the slaves and paid the debt with monies.  I have heard of people hitting the 1870s wall, which is a wall of lacking information.  Slaves could not track back to their families, nor families track forward to their lost loved ones.  Horace could not track to Florida, where his mother may or may not be.  His mother could not trace where her three beautiful children went.  I could not find the gristmill.  I couldn't even begin to know where to look, Florida or Texas.  I could not find Cherry Ann.  

Late that night, I finally dozed off, with my laptop open to many tabs searched.  It was well into the early hours of the new day when I finally had hit my head against the wall of lacking information. I gave up.  I wasn't thinking logically. I slept.  I dreamed of Horace, a young man confused, holding his crying mother, her one arm holding her newborn, her other holding onto Horace.  Hagar gripping her skirts, and little George clutching at her legs.  I saw a harsh man pulling them off one by one and putting them in a cart to be driven off.  Horace's mother screaming, crying, begging.  I awoke with my heart pounding.  What mother would take such a wound, such a loss?  I would not, could not give up.  I would cross the barriers.  I will find such gristmill.  

A renewal of spirit and renewal of the search

I had to step back from the initial discouraging knowledge that my great great grandfather was dishonorable and that my dear friend Carolyn was correct.  My family secrets of indian fighters, confederate loyalists and murders were coming to light.  It was a blow, but to watch my father get discouraged about his family was disheartening.  A family that had been unknown to him but in only stories and a few photographs.  He assumed, as I did, that because our family was honorable collection of nurses, paramedics, military, business women, game wardens and police officers that the ancestors would also be honorable.

 I went to the one place that I seem to find peace and that is the Haby farm.  The territory is untouched except for the pathway of the combine and the slow waving fields of planted maize.  I love this country and breathe deeply the fresh air.  

They have an old german house on the property I refer to as the Haby Baby House because I heard that in the pioneer days, women from all over the settlement would come have their babies at this house.  I imagine it was because someone who lived there knew a thing or two about birthing babies.  It doesn't take my imagination much to drift back to pioneer days, when settlements were at risk of attack, kidnapping, murder, illness, and starvation.  I insert also the things that don't easily capture our bloodlust.  Simple things like the cooking, the quilts, the lovely old samplers I have seen.  The dances and the community.  I remember that there is good and bad in every family and good and bad in every person.  My sister reminds me that the one we feed is the one that grows.  
So I sat by the field and began to think again about the Griffin Children.  Specifically Horace, being the oldest and having more knowledge of the Owens. I thought about what happened after WSB escaped from Uvalde, Texas.  Did the Griffin family go with him?  Obviously, I needed to find a historical timeline.  At some point, they were free, right?  What year?   The Courthouse shooting occurred in March 18, 1865, that June 19, 1865 or as it is referred to now as Juneteenth (just three months later) Major General Granger landed in Galveston to alert Texas to the fact that the Slaves had been emancipated.  Something that Texas refused to acknowledge to their own slaves.  The Major General was there to insist that Texas would follow Union Laws and free their slaves.  What if they stayed?  What if the Griffin children stayed in Uvalde, Texas.  I could find their genealogy, their tombstones and birth certificates.  I could find their family....their mother.  My heart stopped.  Could I reunite this torn family.  This no longer became the search for my ancestors, but a search for redemption.  

My disenchantment of my ancestor

Honestly after learning the truth about the killing of the Sheriff and reading all of the posts on the Officer Down Memorial page, I barely wanted to continue.  It was in this moment I realized all of the scars that the Daughertys, the town of Uvalde and the Owens family held.  The only picture I have seen of WSB is a harsh one.  He looks like a hard cowboy who hadn't had anything descent to eat except a mouthful of dry Corn Dodgers.  I once read in a post of a fellow genealogist that said you cannot judge the historical facts with the current morality.  I cannot excuse the human suffering that I know he witnessed and   caused, because a human cannot see suffering or cause suffering without recognizing it for what it is.  A human cannot watch death, cause grief and treat people ill without their soul being affected.  I try to imagine the fear of thinking that Billie could be wrongly hanged in the courthouse.  Maybe he was trying to minimize the damage between Robert and Daugherty and hoping it would not affect Billie. I cannot know his heart.   

 http://www.odmp.org/officer/reflections/3817-sheriff-john-quincy-daugherty-sr 

The only thing that keeps me going is knowing that there was a family that was torn apart and I can help mend this in some small way. 

As I continue this journey following WSB Owens, I continue to hope for the best.  I recognize that he was a father who already lost sons, Joseph to a case of dropsy (tonsillitis) who is buried outside Helena, Texas , and one to a gun battle. He was an indian fighter, a settler of Florida Territory, fought in the Seminole Indian war.  He placed himself on Texas Ranger muster rolls and was elected Justice of the Peace.  He signed a petition to make Uvalde province a true Texas County and was a land and cattle owner.  

Our tapestry is interwoven with his gumption, his bravery, his strength and also his murderous ways and his disregard of the worth of land and his disrespect for humans. I truly find it difficult to celebrate him as a hero of Texas for all his wrongdoings color my opinion of him.  My father said, "you always hope and believe that your family is honorable."   I would like to believe that at one point in time he was.  

The Death of a Sheriff, John Quincy Daugherty

The story when I first read it, was like reading a newspaper article.  It left a great deal to the imagination and even the witnesses told different accounts.  The best version of understanding was the mixing of the stories.  William Swinton Bennett Owens and family (probably Robert Owens and WSB's sons) ran a general store in Uvalde, Texas.  Besides being elected Justice of the Peace in Uvalde County, WSB was a businessman, involved in freighters, a gristmill, ranching and cattle driving.  He had left his son in the store overnight to protect his investments.  It was known that Uvalde was a tough town and often drunkards would cause havoc in stores, breaking in and stealing merchandise.  When WSB went to open the store in the morning, he found his young son Billie, 19 years old, "abused and beaten"  (I took this to mean the full intent of the word).  Billie had recognized the culprit as Joseph Robinson among others, who  said Robinson had come in drunk.  That morning, William P Owens (Billie) found Joseph Robinson (probably recovering from a hangover) and during a gun battle, killed Robinson for the "abuse".  Billie was arrested by John Quincy Daughtery.  This is where the law becomes clouded with the feud between Daughterys and Owens. 

Some issue unknown to me had occurred between Robert Jackson Owens, son of WSB, and John Quincy Daugherty.  Mr. Daugherty had placed a lawsuit against said Owens.  While in the general store, Robert being a man "who loved his cups" (meaning he got drunk often) and was stumbling drunk during this conversation, said "Daugherty, I suppose you are going to sue me" and the reply was "Yes, I have already done it".  After an exchange of words, a fight broke out between the two and Robert drew a knife which Daugherty used to cut Robert Owens.  Thus, John Q Daugherty was charged with assault with intent to kill Robert J. Owens.  My personal opinion is that Robert, who we know to be a hardened Indian fighter, was probably in the wrong and knew it, and like a drunken idiot got cut with his own knife.  It must have taken immense self control not to kill Robert.  I had read somewhere that John Quincy was disillusioned with war and concerned with the poverty stricken who were forced into battles while the rich became richer off the widows and orphans.  I wondered after this knife fight if Mr. Daugherty had nightmares.  

Daugherty never went to trial for the attempted murder, because Robert was killed soon after they rescued a small girl from a kidnapping by a desperado.  

Uvalde Jail

Rear of Uvalde Jail

After learning of the store break in and the abuse, John Quincy Daugherty had arrested William P Owens (Billie) for the murder of Robinson.  The Owens gang, which consisted of Wylie Dodd, Balis and Robert Bates, Thomas and James Cooke, John Wilburn and a negro of George Griffin (owned by WSB Owens) came riding into Uvalde "drunk and cursing and shooting" up to the courthouse.  John Quincy Daugherty walked out onto the porch of the courthouse (some say the second floor balcony) to confront the mob.  WSB called out to the Sheriff "I have come for my boy".  Who knows what was said.  The accounts are different saying as soon as he stepped out he was shot. Some say he said "let the law take its course".  Regardless, he was flipped over the porch railing with a bullet in his head.  All sounds exciting and rowdy and I believe myself to be somewhat desensitized to the events at first (probably due to my love of western movies).

 Members of the town militia were inside guarding the prisoner and all hell broke loose.  The gang hid behind trees and in shops doors and opened fire on the militia.  It was witnessed that some dove out of the windows and headed from safety.  Billie Owens escaped the lawmen and rejoined his family, and forever set a wave of catastrophe and shame that followed the Owens family.  

Sarah Pickett Daugherty

I think about how Sarah Pickett Daugherty was told..or did she see?  Was she sitting at the ranch just across from the Owens ranch? 

Was she in town for the trial against Billie Owens? She was pregnant with her fourth son and was caring for three young boys, a 10 year old, an 8 year old, a five year old and a three year old little girl.  Her two sisters lived with her as well.  I can only imagine her sorrow, the town's shock and the children's grief.  

A few months later, Sarah buried her sweet little daughter Louisa, next to her husband.  Within that one year, Sarah had lost her parents, her husband and a daughter.  She birthed her son without his father, a living legacy he would never know.  It stays with me as I hope it did Billie Owens and WSB.  

James, Thomas, John Q. Jr., William and Mother Sarah (Picket) Daugherty in center

In 1902, Sarah Pickett Daugherty moved to Alpine, Texas to be with her son.  But, when she died, she was buried in Uvalde next to where I believe her love was, next to her husband and daughter.  

Who was John Quincy Daugherty, Sr.

I am confused by the term carpetbagger and the use of it to describe John Quincy Daugherty.  A carpetbagger, for all readers who had this term eradicated from their education, was a Northerner that came to the south (especially during the Reconstruction Era) to profit from the weak political system. It was derogatory word used to describe a vulture like relationship with the southern population.  
It also included those who were loyal to the union appointed into political or legal positions.  Which is fabulous for the Appointed ones, but for those who were established and had been digging in the dirt and defending themselves from cattle rustlers, indian attacks and diseases, I can imagine the pioneers saw the appointed sheriff's and deputies like an oppressive outsider.  

I wanted to know the damage done by the killing of this lawman. The truth.  So I began to research John Quincy Daugherty and came up with important documents.   First the application from Sarah Daugherty for her husband's civil war pension. 

From this document, I can tell that John Quincy Daugherty was a member of the First Texas Calvary (Arizona Brigade....they were originally called the Arizona Brigade because they were formed to help the war efforts in Arizona, but never sat foot in Arizona).  1st Battalion had some controversial moments (like getting the local indian together for "peace talks" and then slaughtering the adults in their drunken state and selling the children into slavery), and some were known for dragging out German men who were for the Union and hanging them (supported by Quattrails men and the  Die Haengebande or hanging band), but my guess is John Quincy Daugherty fought in the horrible battles of  Poison Springs (April 18, 1864) (where hundreds black ex-slaves fighting for the Union were slaughtered, scalped and mutilated), Massard’s Prairie (July 27, 1864) and Cabin Creek (September 19, 1864) among many other skirmishes along the Texas and New Mexico areas.  

 
He had married Sarah Ann when she they were both 22 years old.  
He fought for the Confederacy.  So that, in my opinion, makes him the least likeliest carpetbagger.  Perhaps he was seen as an interloper.  He had purchased land on the Leona, across from the Owens.  I read somewhere that their were tensions between the Daughertys and the Owens. I find this to be amazing.  When did anyone have time to hate anyone, with scratching their next meal out of the dirt and fighting Indians?  
I recently found a picture of him, but I try not to judge the old photos too harshly.  I know if I was to sit still for over 2 minutes, I would look terribly pinch-faced.  I imagine him to be a fierce fighter, tolerant of little nonsense.  I also can imagine the horror of war he was exposed to and the post traumatic syndrome he suffered.  His murder left his wife and five children, one who was not born yet.  

The shooting of a sheriff

So the original story that the family seems most interested in (and to be honest, set this search on the path) was the shooting of the Sheriff.  I actually was fascinated by this story, it being white washed by the Owens version that was handed down and joined a tapestry of my imagination fueled by every western I had seen.  Unfortunately, I am finding that this was the story the Owens was infamous for.  I recently purchased a novel The Outlaw Tales of Texas: True stories of the Lone Star States of Crooks,  Culprits and Cutthroats, which described my family as the "Owens gang" or the "Bad Owens Gang".  Even knowing that the history has been frowned upon greatly by society, I cannot merge that image with my dear father, who is a gentle soul.  Regardless, here is the story.
This was an ideal atmosphere for hostilities to erupt and erupt they did, between the Owens family and another man.Though it will likely never be known exactly what happened, why, or even to whom, as there are conflicting and confusing stories, a gunfight took place in which one John Q. Daugherty was killed. Though W.S.B. and others were indicted for murder by a grand jury the case never was brought to trial. Shortly thereafter W.S.B. moved to a more peaceful and hospitable Hays County purchased land and settled on the Blanco River, on the old Bastrop Road, where he and Arena spent the remainder of their lives.
Further note: Robert J.Crunk (Florida Owens son): "A friend of the family got drunk one night and went to a store owned by a family member. A son (John?) was asleep in the store and the man abused him. The next day when WSB went to find out what had happened the man drew on him and WSB killed him. When WSB went up the street to turn himself in, the sheriff--a carpetbagger--shot him. In turn WSB and the boy both drew and shot at the same time. The sheriff and a deputy were standing on the courthouse steps at the time. The sheriff was supposed to have previously been a friend!'
As one would guess, the shooting seems to have been justified.  My daddy said, "I always thought the sheriff was corrupt".  Perhaps he was, perhaps they all were.

The Owens Migration

The Victoria Advocate, a Texas newspaper in the mid 1800's, had printed a brief announcement for the community of Goliad, Texas and surrounding area.  It was really amazing when you think about moving thirty-nine members of your family at once.  We currently have issues of getting five of us together.  But the announcement created many questions:
1.  Why the devil would you leave Florida for Texas?
2.  Why move an entire family?
3.  Was there a plan?
4. Who traveled?  and How did they travel?

I then found a narrative that stated the Owens family came on the USS Gov. Bennet from Florida (assuming Pensacola) to Indianola (a popular landing for Texas) and then Goliad . All 38 and in a ship.  I also assumed they did not count the slaves on this family emigration.

The First Glimpse

I asked my father about our family history and he came up with two initial stories.  One, the story of our ancestor shooting a sheriff and the second about an old broken pistol that was hidden under the floor board of his house.  I was intrigued.  Dad said he never knew much about the family history.  His grandfather had died in a wagon on the way from Encinal to Palestine.  He had died in a small town of Tanglewood and his widow found the people to be so nice, she settled there.  Because of this death, very few stories of the Owens family were told to him.  I was so interested in this and encouraged, nay prodded, into my genealogy that I signed up for an ancestors website, and there, to my amazement, was a narrative that described my great great grandfather, William Swinton Bennett Owens.  I read this narrative many times and had to overcome my initial shock...he was a slave owner.  This information was unknown to me.  The stories I had heard of my father's childhood of working in the fields, picking crops for pennies on the bushel, selling watermelons on the road were stories of poverty.  The Owens were "dirt farmers", with little money.  I had negated the possibility that the Owens owned another human, they had no money.
But there it was, so easily mentioned that William Swinton Bennett Owens gathered up his family and his slaves, Horace, Hagar and George and moved to Uvalde.  And they were young.  Horace, the oldest was 17 years old.  Hagar only 13 years old and little George was 9 years old.  That night I tossed and turned.  Just young children, no mother.  I woke up with so many questions I had no idea where to start.  Looking back I know my focus was still researching my family.  This would prove to be helpful, for in order to find the slave, you must find the owner.  A harsh fact I learned early on in my searching.

The Narrative

In the late 1820's, while Buck was a young man, the Owens family moved from the relative civilization of South Carolina to the raw lands of Florida Territory. The Owens knew the potential of Florida though and migrated there long before it became a state. They settled in the costal panhandle area and engaged successfully in farming for twenty odd years helping settle and civilize Florida. They were active in the Florida militia and engaged in the Seminole Indian Wars. They ultimately owned 560 acres of land and had four slaves. The Owens' had apparently always experienced the frontier incompatibility so well expressed by Elmer Kelton: "Often those who had the aggressive characteristics necessary to go into a raw land found those characteristics incompatible with the settled, ordered society which came later. Though they had cleared the path, civilization no longer had a place for them. It shoved them aside or plowed them under." And, it might be added, "they moved on to new frontiers." North Carolina, South Carolina, Florida and then Texas, always on the leading edge of civilization. Between 1837 and 1841 W.S.B. and his father traveled to the Republic of Texas and both W.S.B. and his father each filed for 320 acres of land in Goliad Co. It was not, however, until 1853 that the Owens moved from Florida to Texas. Travel to Texas was by ship across the Gulf of Mexico with landing at Powder Horn, later to become known as Indianola. From Indianola the family traveled on to Goliad. W.S.B. remained in Goliad for three years. In 1856 he gathered his family and three slaves (Horace Griffin age 17, Hagar Griffin age 13, and George Griffin age 9) and headed into the raw lands, this time to the Texas southwestern frontier. He chose to settle in the newly established town of Encino, which would later become the town of Uvalde and Uvalde County. According to an entry in his hand written family journal they arrived there Feb. 12, 1856. He was one of the original signers of the petition for the creation of Uvalde County and was elected the first justice of the peace there. He and other members of the family are listed in several ranger muster rolls. Encino at that time was a wild and inhospitable land. Comanche and Apache raids significantly hindered development. Seminoles, Tonkawa's, and Lipan Apaches swept down the Leona River valley and attacked ranches near Fort Inge soon after its temporary abandonment in 1857. Mexican outlaws raided from the south stealing livestock. Border warfare and lawlessness prevailed until the late 1880s. W.S.B. lost numerous cattle and horses to Mexican raiders while living at Uvalde. (In later years, long after the death of W.S.B., one of the Owens heirs filed a claim against the Mexican government. The heirs of WSB Owens were granted a claim of $11,552 by the American-Mexican Claims Commission. The claim was handled by one F. L. Kuykendall of Austin in the 1950's. Though the claim was never paid in full Owens descendants received small amounts from the Mexican government for a number of years.) The Owens family remained in the Uvalde and Fort Inge areas, engaged ranching, freighting and operating a general merchandise store, for ten or twelve years until shortly after the Civil War and Reconstruction. Following the Civil War and Reconstruction Uvalde County began to endure years of unrelenting lawlessness and frontier savagery. It remained the last frontier district court site for a region that included the unorganized territories of Zavala, Kinney, Edwards and Maverick counties. The region was home to smugglers, cattle and horse rustlers, and numerous other desperadoes. In addition the re-abandonment of Fort Inge immediately after secession was followed by renewed Indian attacks. Conflicts between Confederates and Unionists, Texans and the Reconstructionist and other factions of the North-South squabble marked the environment at Uvalde in these times.
This was an ideal atmosphere for hostilities to erupt and erupt they did, between the Owens family and another man.Though it will likely never be known exactly what happened, why, or even to whom, as there are conflicting and confusing stories, a gunfight took place in which one John Q. Daugherty was killed. Though W.S.B. and others were indicted for murder by a grand jury the case never was brought to trial. Shortly thereafter W.S.B. moved to a more peaceful and hospitable Hays County purchased land and settled on the Blanco River, on the old Bastrop Road, where he and Arena spent the remainder of their lives.
Further note: Robert J.Crunk (Florida Owens son): "A friend of the family got drunk one night and went to a store owned by a family member. A son (John?) was asleep in the store and the man abused him. The next day when WSB went to find out what had happened the man drew on him and WSB killed him. When WSB went up the street to turn himself in, the sheriff--a carpetbagger--shot him. In turn WSB and the boy both drew and shot at the same time. The sheriff and a deputy were standing on the courthouse steps at the time. The sheriff was supposed to have previously been a friend!'