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Seth
Carey's Escape
from the Murderous Yocum Gang
Page 2By
W. T. Block |
Page
1
Soon
transferring his enmity entirely from Page to Carey, Brittain, so the old veteran
noted, "shot his cattle, girdled his peach trees, turned over his windmill, injured
his cart, and threatened and annoyed him in every way." On one occasion Brittain
chased him with a cow whip at a time when he was unarmed and unable to resist.
He added that he would have killed Brittain then and there if he had had any weapon,
but he had neither owned nor carried a gun since his days in the Texas Army. Many
neighbors, including the former Col. Moseley Baker, told Carey that Brittain had
insulted him publicly in the town of Lynchburg and even threatened to kill Carey.
Brittain warned that such indignities would end only when Carey acquired a will
to resist. In desperation, Carey went to Houston
and bought a gun, and even the justice of the peace assured Carey that if Brittain's
death occurred at his hand, the killing could amount to no more than a justifiable
homicide.
Early in 1841, Carey accompanied Dr. Whiting to the home of
a Col. Turner to deliver some medicine. On the way, the doctor admonished him
that Brittain needed no additional pretext for murder than to find Carey carrying
a pistol. They arrived at Turner's place just as the colonel, in company with
Brittain, rode up at the gate. The latter immediately launched "a tirade of abuse
and threats against Carey," who in turn drew his gun, killing Brittain instantly.
The
latter's death produced no tears in the Lynchburg vicinity, and a magistrate,
to whom Carey had surrendered, scoffed at any thought of an arrest or trial, adding
that the defendant had been provoked beyond human endurance and had rid the county
of a violent and troublesome man. But within days, the same voices that had condoned
the action before the event soon warned that public indignation over the killing
was rising rapidly. Some suggested that Carey should abandon the country permanently,
and a few offered to buy his property at a paltry fraction of its actual worth.
The warnings notwithstanding, Carey decided to give himself up for trial in Houston,
and while on his way there, he stopped at Nimrod Hunt's place on Buffalo Bayou.
Hunt offered to go to Houston and ascertain
the true temper of the people, and after his return, he warned that the only justice
that Carey could expect would be the lower end of Judge Lynch's rope. With a power-of-attorney
received from Carey, Hunt went to Galveston
to raise cash on the defendant's property there. And later, Hunt gave $100 in
Texas currency (worth only $25 U. S.) to the fugitive, although Hunt had raised
$300 in gold coin for the property.
Earlier, Hunt had told Carey of a place
on Pine Island Bayou called Yocum's
Inn. Located on the old Opelousas cattle trail northwest of Beaumont,
it was a hideaway where an outlaw might purchase asylum for a price. In desperation,
Carey gathered up what cash and valuables he had, along with his gun and a gold
watch, and in the middle of the night, he saddled a mule and started eastward
toward the Neches River. Finally, he arrived at the Beaumont cabin of David Cole,
who was married to Yocum's daughter, Sydna Lou, and Cole agreed to accompany Carey
to his father-in-law's estate.
The trail from Beaumont
led through some of the prettiest pine and hardwood forests in North America.
Blackberry vines and dogwoods were in full blossom, and here and there a raucous
bluejay or redbird flitted through the branches. After a few hours' ride, the
pair arrived at a large log house, nestled within the shadowy perimeter of a pine
barren. A painted board across the front bore the crude notation "Pine Island
Post Office." Nearby was a long barn, built of rough hewn logs, which also served
as one side of a rail-fenced corral and a couple of slave cabins. As they approached,
the bearded, old Tom Yocum could be seen in the doorway, conversing in an undertone
with a stranger, whom Carey recognized immediately as William H. Irion. Irion's
exact connection with the Yocum gang has never been firmly established. Perhaps
he was deeply implicated; if not, he was at least an esteemed friend of Yocum's,
one who was fully conscious, as he later admitted, of the murderous activities
which were being conducted on the premises. next
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