Robinson & Adams

Henry Robinson and Henry Adams, Killed and Others Seriously Wounded

The 13th day of March, 1861, Henry M. Robinson and Henry Adams, who lived twelve and fifteen miles northwest of Uvalde on the Nueces, started to camp Wood, a Federal military post, which was being abandoned because of the outbreak of the Civil War. When they reached a point new Chalk Bluff, about two miles beyond the home of Henry Adams, these frontier citizens stopped at a spring for water. Here the two pioneers were surrounded by Indians and both killed.

The Indians then followed the road down the Nueces, and sixteen savages made their next appearance at the home of Henry Robinson, whom they had just killed. When they first discovered the red skins were in the yard trying to rope the children. D.W. Robinson came out of the house with a double-barrel gun loaded in one side with shot, and in the other with a ball. He fired the shot first and the ball next, and wounded at least one Indian. Mrs. Robinson at the time was at the camp of a Mr. Casey, who with his family arrived from California only a short time before. Amanda Melvina Robinson, about twelve years of age, and a daughter of Mr. Casey, as well as other Robinson children, left the Robinson home and started toward the Casey camp. Mrs. Robinson heard their screams and came to the door. According to reports, the Casey girl was subject to fainting spells, and the presence of Indians caused her to become unconscious, at a point between the Casey camp and the home of Mr. And Mrs. Robinson. In her hysterical condition she bitterly resisted the savages, who badly lacerated her hands. George Robinson was wounded in the arm with an arrow, and had it not been for a bone, this instrument would have passed on into his body. The Indians robbed the Robinson home, cut open the feather beds and took the ticking as usual. This barbarous onslaught may have been more disastrous had it not been for the bravery of Mrs. Robinson. In he presence of Indians and in the very jaws of death, she motioned to her rear in a manner to cause the red men to believe she was directing the rangers. The Indians then went away.

After they were gone, it was discovered the savages took a daguerreotype picture of Mr. Robinson from the house and placed it in the yard with the face down, and covered it with a sock, which Mr. Robinson was wearing when killed, and which had been knitted by Mrs. Robinson. This splendid frontier wife and mother readily understood that this gesture meant her husband had been killed.

And again the mysterious red-headed man made his appearance and took a major part in this raid. But whether or not he was the same or a different individual that appeared on previous and subsequent occasions, no one knows. Mrs. Robinson now gives us some more definite information concerning his identity. According to her account, he was stationed at Fort Inge. Boyd, the "red-headed Indian" prior to this tragedy, had several times dined at the Robinson home, been there on a number of occasions, and Mrs. Robinson said she knew him well. But it seems Mr. Robinson had had some difficulty with this red-headed man sometime before his death.

According to reports, when Albert Sidney Johnston made his march to suppress the Morman uprising of Utah, this red-headed man deserted along the way. But could Mrs. Robinson have been mistaken in identifying the man? That we do not know. But nevertheless, she seemed to be very positive that she knew him.

During 1872, James A. Robinson, a son was a scout under Major Davis, who was stationed six miles north of Utopia, a little town in the northeastern part of Uvalde County. The Major told James A. Robinson, a son of Mr. and Mrs. Robinson, that on one occasion, when he was with Gen. R.S. MacKenzie, they charged the Comanches on the Salt Fork of the Arkansas and during the fight this same red-headed Boyd was killed. According to reports, Davis further told Robinson that he knew Boyd before he deserted the army, and when killed he kicked him to ascertain whether or not he was dead.

The above story is from the book, The West Texas Frontier, by Joseph Carroll McConnell.