Family Tree Maker's Genealogy Site: Genealogy Report: Descendants of Martin William " Gobbler " Jones

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Descendants of Martin William " Gobbler " Jones

51. ALICE CALDONIA⁴ JONES (MARTIN WILLIAM JR.³, MARTIN WILLIAM " GOBBLER "², MR.¹) was born 26 Nov 1863 in Jonesville, Angelina Co., Texas, and died Unknown in Possibly Coalgate, Oklahoma. She married (1) THOMAS MARTIN ASHBY, son of JOSHUA ASHBY and MATILDA MARTIN. He was born 1863 in Macoupin Co., Illinois, and died Unknown. She married (2) JOHN HARRIS Bet. 1891 - 1895 in Texas. He died Unknown.

Notes for ALICE CALDONIA JONES:
She lived most of her life in Coalgate, Oklahoma.

Notes for THOMAS MARTIN ASHBY:
1870 Bates Co., Missouri;
Joshua Ashby 57 Ky,
Matilda 38 wife Ky.
William 21 Ill.
Martha 10 Ill.
John 8 Ill.
Thomas 7 Ill
Nancy 5 Ill.

More About JOHN HARRIS and ALICE JONES:
Marriage: Bet. 1891 - 1895, Texas

Children of ALICE JONES and THOMAS ASHBY are:

166.	i.	HATTIE MAE⁵ ASHBY, b. 02 Oct 1886, Texas; d. 25 Feb 1946, Los Angeles, California.
167.	ii.	JESSE LEE ASHBY, b. 1889; d. Unknown.
168.	iii.	CHARLIE MARTIN ASHBY, b. 1891; d. Unknown.

Children of ALICE JONES and JOHN HARRIS are:

	iv.		ANN⁵ HARRIS, b. Coalgate, Oklahoma; d. Unknown.
	v.		ADDISON HARRIS, b. Coalgate, Oklahoma; d. Unknown.
	vi.		GOLDIA HARRIS, b. Coalgate, Oklahoma; d. Unknown.

52. WILLIAM FRANKLIN⁴ BURKS (PHETNA MARIAH³ JONES, MARTIN WILLIAM " GOBBLER "², MR.¹) was born 11 Jun 1839 in Near White River, White Co., Arkansas, and died 27 Jan 1877 in La Salle Co., Texas. He married AMANDA M.F. NITE 14 Oct 1858 in Crockett, Houston Co., Texas, daughter of JOHN NITE and LUCY STEPP. She was born 08 Feb 1841 in Near Crockett, Houston Co., Texas, and died 15 Sep 1931 in La Salle Co., Texas.

Notes for WILLIAM FRANKLIN BURKS:
William " Bud " came to Texas as a small boy from White Co., Arkansas, not far from Little Rock. He met his bride in Texas. His wife later became known as Mrs. Amanda Burks, Prairie Queen of The Texas Trail Drivers.
Residing in William and Amanda's home on the 1870 Nueces Co., Texas Census are Simpson and Unity's children and William's step natural sister and step siblings Rhody, Margaret, Marcus and John. They also have a 9 year old black domestic servant named Eliza from Texas residing in the home. They do not have Napolean with them.

More About WILLIAM FRANKLIN BURKS:
Burial: Unknown, LaMota Ranch, La Salle Co., Texas

Notes for AMANDA M.F. NITE:
Amanda is in history books as a very colorful lady. In 1924, Amanda was elected Queen of the Old Trail Drivers of Texas. She served for 25 years. She was the first woman to help drive her own cattle to Kansas in 1871. She and her husband " Bud", traveled the Old Chisolm Trail and the Western Trail! She once caused a Prairie fire that burned for days trying to bake a pie for her husband! They lived at Shawnee Prairie in Angelina Co., Texas until 1866, when they moved to Banquette, in Nueces Co., near Corpus Christi. After living there for ten years, they moved to and founded the famous " La Mota Ranch" near Cotulla, on the Nueces River near Old Fort Ewell. Bud had seen the beautiful live oak grove by a huge natural lake as he returned home to Angelina from his service in the CSA on the Rio Grande. He had volunteered in Angelina Co., TX. on 31 March 1862 with Capt. Browns' Co. D, 22nd. Texas Infantry. He contracted Tuberculosis while in the army and died the 27 January 1877. Amanda, his sister Rhoda, and a friend buried him on the " LA Mota " Ranch. Amanda continued to manage the ranch, buying and selling stock and adding to her acreage until " La Mota " contained over 42,000 acres with a large two story home and many herds of goats, sheep, horses, and cattle. Amanda died on the 15th day of September 1931, and was laid to rest next to her husband in the ranch cemetery. Their children had died years before and are buried beside their great- grandfather Martin Jones, in the Jonesville Cemetery in Huntington, Texas. Amanda raised Rhoda and Capt. Baylors two surviving children on the ranch. She led an interesting life to say the least about our wonderful ancestor. A gentleman had also found her so intriguing that he wrote a novel that based the novel on Amanda. In another book called " OLD TRAIL DRIVERS OF TEXAS", Amanda includes information of her trips on the Trails.
In the book the writter expresses Samuel Dunn Houston's recollections of Amanda as being a girl who dressed as a man. She joined his trail crew for four months in 1888 on a drive between New Mexico and Colorado. Amanda had given in detail, a description of her trip up the trail with her husband William "Bud" Burks' herd which was driven to Newton, Kansas. Amanda was living in Cotulla, Texas when she wrote of her experience.
"My husband, Mr. W. F. Burks and I lived on a ranch at Banquette, Nueces County, during the days that Texas cattle could be marketed only by driving them over the Old Kansas Trail.
At this time in this section of the country good steers could be bought for fifteen dollars, and were often killed for the hides and tallow. The meat was fed to the hogs.
In the early spring of 1871 Mr. Burks rounded up his cattle and topped out a thousand head of the best to take to market. Jasper Clark (better known as "Jap") was getting ready to take the Clark herd also, so they planned to keep the two herds not far apart.
They started in April with about ten cowboys each, mostly Mexicans, and the cooks. The cattle were roadbranded at Pinitas and started on the familiar trail. They were only a day out when Marcus Banks, my brother-in-law, came back with a note to me from Mr. Burks asking me to get ready as soon as possible and catch up with the bunch. He also said to bring either Eliza or Nick (black girl and boy who worked for us) to look out for my comfort, and suggested that Nick would be of more help than the girl.
So Nick and I started in my little buggy drawn by two good ponies and overtook the herd in a day's time. Nick, being more skilled than the camp cook, prepared my meals. He also put up my tent evenings, and took it down when we broke up camp. It was intended that he should drive my horses when I was tired, but that was not necessary, for the horses often had no need of anyone driving them. They would follow the slow-moving herd unguided, and I would find a comfortable position, fasten the lines and take a little nap.
The cattle were driven only about ten miles a day, or less, so that they would have plenty of time to graze and fatten along the way. They were in good condition when they reached Kansas.
Except when I was lost, I left the bunch only once after starting. On this occasion I went to Concrete, where my sister lived, to have a tent made for the trip.
The night before our herd reached Beeville the Clark herd stampeded and never caught sight of us until we were 'way up state.
All went pretty well with us till we neared Lockhart, and here we lost thirty cows in the timber. They were never recovered.
Whenever we came to timber we had to rush the cattle through, sometimes driving all day without stopping, for if they were scattered it was almost impossible to gather them again in the thick undergrowth.
Being springtime, the weather was delightful until we reached Central Texas. Some of the worst electrical and hailstorms I have ever witnessed were in this part and also in North Texas. The lightning seemed to settle on the ground and creep along like something alive.
Over in Bosque County late one evening a storm overtook us, and Mr. Burks drove/me off into a more sheltered part of the timber. He unfastened the traces from the buggy and gave me the lines, but told me if the horses tried to run to let them go. Hail had begun to fall by this time and he had to hurry back to help the men hold the frightened cattle. Harder and heavier fell the hail, and rain was pouring down in torrents. The horses worked their way around to one side of the buggy, seeking protection, and it seemed that it would be only a few seconds until they pulled away from me entirely. Determined not to let the horses go, I left the shelter of my buggy top and tied the horses with a rope I always carried with me. I got back in the buggy and sat there cold and wet and hungry and all alone in the dark. Homesick! This is the only time of all the months of my trip that I wished I was back on the old ranch at Banquette.
After what seemed ages to me I could hear the rumble of wagon wheels on the trail, and later still the sound of the beat of a horse's hoofs going the same way; but no one seemed to pay me any mind.
Later I learned that it was the cook driving the wagon, not knowing which way to go after being lost in the dark woods; and that Mr. Burks rode after him to bring him back to cook supper for the hungry men who had had nothing to eat since morning.
After I heard the return of the wagon the woods rang with the sound of Mr. Burks' voice calling me, and I lost no time in answering. It was one o'clock in the morning when I reached camp.
Mr. Burks and several of the others had big blood blisters on their hands caused by the hail. One of the boys said, "The beat of the hail on my head made me crazy. I would have run, but didn't know which way to go."
There were few people living along the trail, but when going through Ellis County we saw an old woman sitting in the doorway of a small house stringing beans. We remarked to her that we saw very few women in that part of the country. She answered, "Yes, sir, I'm the first woman that made a track in Dallas County, and I would be back in Tennessee now, only I would have to go through Arkansas to get there. I guess I'll stay right here.
Once when we were camping in Johnson County I heard the bark of dogs followed by several rapid pistol shots. I ran to my tent to see what the trouble was. The Mexican who had charge of the cattle on this relay said that two dogs ran right in among the grazing herd and were about to stampede them when he shot them.
The owner of the dogs appeared soon after the shooting and seemed very downcast over his loss. He said he had "sure been having bad luck." He had first lost his two sons in the Civil War and had now lost his two dogs, which he had trained to keep cattle out of his tiny nearby field. We were sorry for the poor old man, but knew the Mexican did the right thing in preventing a stampede.
We camped a long time at Fort Worth, waiting for the Trinity River to fall low enough to cross our cattle. I counted fifteen herds here waiting to cross.
After we had crossed the Red River we seemed to have left all civilization behind. There were no more fresh fields, green meadows, and timber lands. The sun was so blistering that we hung a cloth inside the top of my buggy to break the heat that came through. Evenings and mornings were so cool that we were uncomfortable.
We had heard of the treacherous Indians and cattle rustlers of the Territory and were always on the look-out for them. The cattle and horses were kept well guarded. One day one of the Mexican cowboys, who was on guard duty fell asleep. Mr. Burks could not permit such negligence and told the man that he had to go. All the Mexicans notified Mr. Burks that if this man was "fired" that all would go with him. Of course there was no one else to be employed in this uninhabited territory, so we kept the man who had to have his afternoon nap.
We had no unpleasant experiences with the Indians, although they came to camp and tried to trade with the men. We narrowly escaped having trouble with a couple of what we supposed to be rustlers. While alone in camp one afternoon two men came up and were throwing rocks in among the grazing cattle. I called to them to stop and said, "Don't you know you'll stampede those cattle." and they answered, "That's what we're trying to do." Just then some of the men rode up and the rustlers left hurriedly.
Mr. Burks always kept his horse saddled at night so that he would be ready to go at a word from the boys. As he often helped the men watch the cattle when they were restless, I was sometimes alone in my tent till late at night. On these occasions I sat up fully dressed for any emergency.
On one of these nights it was thought that Indians were near, so a guard was left at my tent, but he was soon called to help with the cattle. A man from the other camp begged me to go over to his camp and stay until the trouble was over, but I told him I preferred my own tent. The men thought me very brave to stay alone at such a time.
Both Clark and our herds were stampeded one day, supposedly by Indians. It was horrible yet fascinating sight. Frantic cowboys did all in their power to stop the wild flight, but nothing but exhaustion could check it. By working almost constantly the men gathered the cattle in about a week's time. They were all thrown into one big herd, and the roar of hoff-beats of two thousand milling cattle was almost deafening. The herd was divided into two, then worked back and forth until every cow was in her rightful bunch.
After an experience of this kind the men would be almost exhausted. I felt so sorry for one of them, Branch Isbell, a young tenderfoot, that I persuaded Mr. Burks to let him rest. The boy lay down and was soon sleeping so soundly that he did not hear us breaking camp, and we forgot him when we left. I wanted somone to go back and wake him, but Mr. Burks said that it would be only a little while till he appeared again. The boy overtook us late in the evening, and said that he would not have awakened then if an approaching herd had not almost ran over him.
We seemed to be pursued by fire during our entire trip. The first night we were in the Territory Mr. Burks and I went to sleep, leaving a candle burning, and before we were awakened a box full of trinkets and small articles, including my comb, were in a blaze.
On one occasion a prairie fire ran us out of camp before breakfast. We escaped by fleeing to a part of the plain which had been burned before, called "a burn" by people of that section.
Two days later my ignorance was the cause of an immense prairie fire. I thought I would build a fire in a gulley while the cook had gone for water. Not later than I had struck the match than the grass all around was in a blaze which spread so quickly that the men could not stop it. They succeeded in beating out the flanks of the fire so that it did not spread out at the sides at the beginning. The fire blazed highter than a house and went straight ahead for fifty miles or more. Investigators came next day to find out who the culprit was, and when they learned that it was a woman, nothing was said, except for a remark one of the men made that he was glad that he didn't strike the match.
Once when we were encamped on Emmet Creek a fire crept upon us so quickly that the men barely had time to break up camp and get the cattle to safety. There was not time enough to harness the horses to my buggy, so the men tied ropes to it, told me to jump in, and we again fled to a burn. Birds and animals fled with us before the flames.
Many of the prairie fires were started by squatters on land who wanted to keep strangers away. They would plough a safety boundary around their stake and then set fire to the grass outside.
Fuel was very scarce because of these fires and the cook often had to go miles to get enough to cook a meal.
We crossed many nice cool streams whose banks were covered with wild plums. I noticed the ripe ones first when crossing the Washita, and wanted to stop to gather some. Mr. Burks wasn't ready to stop, so told me that the Indians were very troublesome at this place, and I needed no coaxing to start the horses on.
Later, when we came to the Canadian River, the red, blue, and yellow plums were so tempting I had one of the Mexicans stop with me to gather some. We wandered farther away from the buggy than I realized, and when we had gone back a short way I thought the horses had run away and left us. I was panicstricken, but the Mexican insisted that we go farther up stream, and we soon found the horses standing just as they were left. I forgot my scare when the cook served me with delicious plum pie made from the fruit I had gathered.
Being the only woman in camp, the men rivaled each other in attentiveness to me. They were always on the lookout for something to please me, a suprise of some delicacy of the wild fruit, or prairie chicken, or antelope tongue.
In the northern part of the Territory we left the trail a while to graze the cattle, and I drove on ahead of the bunch to a stream. "Jap" Clark motioned to me to stop, but I misunderstood him and thought he meant "go on," and plunged my horses in the swollen creek. One of the horses stumbled and fell, but was on his feet in a moment, and somhow I was jolted across to the other side. I was the subject of much chaffing because of this alleged attempt to break my neck. The crossing was so bad that the banks had to be chopped down to make it safe for crossing the cattle.
On the banks of the Arkansas River we saw two Yankees who called themselves farmers. When we asked to see their farms they showed us two plots about the size of a small garden. They said they had never farmed before, and we easily believed them. Vegetables were a great treat to us, so we bought some from the "farmers" and enjoyed them immensely.
The camp cook on this trip was a very surly negro. he was a constant source of trouble, and everybody was glad when he was "fired" and a white man took his place. I heard a commotion in the camp kitchen one day and when I looked out of the tent door I saw the cook with a raised axe and a Mexican facing him with a cocked pistol. Mr. Burks rode up in time to prevent a killing.
We were three months on the trail when we arrived at Emmet Creek, twenty-two miles from Newton, Kansas.
We summered here, as did several other Texas ranchmen. Market had broken, and everybody that could do so held his cattle hoping for a rise.
While going to town we would often stop at the different camps for a few minutes' chat.
On stormy and rainy nights a candle alway burned in my tent to guide the men. One very stormy night Mr. Burks had to help the men hold the cattle, and he saw the light in the tent flare, then all was black. He rushed through the rain to the place where the tent was and found it flat on the ground, me buried under it, unhurt. The rain had softened the ground and the wind easily blew the tent down. That night all the matches got wet and it was late next morning before we got others with which to start a fire.
When cold weather came the market was still low and Mr. Burks decided to winter his cattle, with others he bought, on Smoky River.
Mr. Burks wanted me to stay in town at Ellsmore, but after being there a few days, and witnessing another fire in which a hotel and several residences were burned, I preferred camp.
A man who lived some distance from camp was paid to feed the horses through the winter, but soon after we heard that he was starving them. A boy was sent to get them and as he was returning, the first severe snowstorm of the season overtook him at nightfall and he had to take refuge for himself and horses in a wayside stable. Next morning he was awakened by a commotion among the horses, and found the owner of the stable trying to punch out the horses' eyes with a pitchfork. Such was the hatred felt for strangers in this region.
Nine horses were lost in this snowstorm. Many of the young cattle lost their horns form the cold. Blocks of ice had to be chopped out of the streams in order that the cattle could drink.
The first taste of early winter in Kansas decided Mr. Burks to sell his cattle and leave for Sunny Texas as soon as possible, and he met with no discouragement of his plans from me, for never had I endured such cold.
So in December we left Kansas, dressed as if we were Esquimaux, and carrying a bucket of frozen buffalo tongues as a souvenir for my friends in Texas. Our homeward journey was made by rail to New Orleans via St. Louis, and by water from New Orleans to Corpus Christi via Galveston and Indianola.
I arrived home in much better health than when I left it nine months before.
Please don't think, now that I've finished telling the few stories of my trip over the Old Kansas Trail, that the journey was one of trials and hardships. These incidents served to break the monotony of sameness of such a trip.
One day Mr. Von said as we were resting along the way, "In the heat of the day, when I am riding behind my cattle, I think of you and am sorry for you, " and added, as I hope you will, " but when I see your smile of happiness and contentment I know all my sympathy is wasted."
What Mr. Von said is true. For what woman, youthful and full of spirit and the love of living, needs sympathy because of availing herself of the opportunity of being with her husband while at his chosen work in the great out-of-door world?" written by Mrs. A. Burks of Cotulla, Texas

The following message was sent to me on 19 Aug 2000 from Donna Donnell from Ft. Worth, Tx.
"Belinda,
Congratulations! Amanda is going to be inducted into the Texas Trail of Fame! I need a couple of things. I need a good photo of her, I would like one where she is younger, mid thirties if possible...or what ever you have. I need names and address of family members to invite to the breakfast and ceremony. October 28th, here in Fort Worth. You can invite anyone you want. However, the breakfast is limited. Also, who would accept the award on her behalf.
Donna Donnell
Fort Worth, TX 76108"

More About AMANDA M.F. NITE:
Burial: Unknown, LaMota Ranch, La Salle Co., Texas

More About WILLIAM BURKS and AMANDA NITE:
Marriage: 14 Oct 1858, Crockett, Houston Co., Texas

Children of WILLIAM BURKS and AMANDA NITE are:

JOHN A.⁵ BURKS, b. 23 Sep 1859, Jonesville, Angelina Co., Texas; d. 08 Jun 1860, Jonesville, Angelina Co., Texas.

Notes for JOHN A. BURKS:
John was only 9 mo. old when he died of Typhoid Fever. The only natural son that Bud and Amanda were to have.

ii.

LUCY PHETNA BURKS, b. 01 Jul 1861, Jonesville, Angelina Co., Texas; d. 06 Feb 1865, Shawnee Prairie, near Jonesville, Angelina Co., Texas.

Notes for LUCY PHETNA BURKS:
Lucy it is believed, might have died from diptheria. She was only four years old when she died. She had died while her mother Amanda was away taking Bud back to the war. Bud had been home on Furlough for a few days, and it was a days journey back, so Bud wouldn't have to walk so far, Amanda rode him closer to his destination.They left little Lucy in care of Buds' brothers and sisters who were living with them at Shawnee Prairie. That night, Amanda was riding towards home and leading Buds' horse, when she saw someone in the darkness ahead. She ordered the person to halt and identify himself!! The Negro man stopped and told her he was riding to meet Mrs. Burks to tell her that her five year old daughter Lucy was dead! Lucy had taken sick suddenly, after Bud and Amanda had left the home and she died very sudden. This would be Bud and Amandas' only natural daughter. After the death of Bud and Amandas' children, they were never blessed with children again..

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