A
confrontation between German Immigrants in Texas and Confederate soldier would
turn deadly August 10th 1862, and become known as the Nueces
Massacre.
The Hill
Country of Texas was heavily settled by Germans who fled their country in 1848
when a revolution there failed. These
“Forty-Eighters” opposed slavery as practiced by their neighbors, but for the
most part stayed out of Texas politics.
That is until Texas succeeded from the Union.
Confederate
troops under the command of Captain James Duff were sent into the Texas Hill
country in April 1862 to disband groups of Union loyalist and enforce the
Confederate draft laws. Duff ordered
that all men must take an oath of allegiance to Confederacy or they would be
considered traitors. When very few of
the German men took the oath, Duff had dozens arrested, their homes burned and
as many as 20 men hanged.
68 Germans
following Fritz Tegener decided in August 1862 to go to Mexico, where they
hoped to travel to Union territory. Duff’s men learned of the groups move and
pursued them. The Confederates caught up
with the Germans near the Nueces River in Kinney County on August 10th
1862. In the fight that followed 19 of
the German were killed and 15 wounded.
As the Germans retreated to the hills 9 of their wounded had to be left
behind. At first the Confederate cared
for the wounded Germans, along with their own wounded, but at some point during
the afternoon the nine wounded Germans were taken outside of camp and killed.
An account
that was written by one of the Confederates stated that, “Some of the more
humane of us did what we could to ease the sufferings of the wounded Germans.
They had fought a good fight, and bore themselves so pluckily I felt sorry I
had taken my part against them. We bound up their wounds, and gave them water,
and laid them as comfortably as we could in the shade. Poor creatures, how
grateful they were!
I hurried
over to where we had left the German wounded to see how they were getting on,
and was surprised to find them gone. Asking what had become of them, I was told
they had been moved to a better shade a short distance away. With this answer I
was quite satisfied, and never dreamed the brutes with whom I served would be
guilty of foul play, especially after the gallant fight the enemy had made.
Just then
one of our wounded called for water, and I brought him some from the cool
spring. As I was giving it to him, the sound of firing was heard a little way
off. I thought at first they were burying some of the dead with the honors of
war; but it didn’t sound like that either. Then, possibly it might be an attack
on the camp; so I seized my rifle and ran in the direction of the firing.
Presently I met a man coming from it who, when he saw me running, said, “You
needn’t be in a hurry, it’s all done; they shot the poor devils, and finished
them off.”
“It can’t
possibly be they have murdered the prisoners in cold blood!” I said, not
believing that even Luck [a villainous -- to the diarist's mind -- lieutenant]
would be guilty of such an atrocious crime. “Oh, yes; they’re all dead, sure
enough — and a good job too!” Feeling sick at heart, though I hardly even then
credited his report, I ran on, and found it only too true.
It seems
they were asked if they wouldn’t like to be moved a little way off into better
shade. The poor creatures willingly agreed, thanking their murderers for their
kindness. They were carried away, but it was to the shade and shadow of death,
for a party of cowardly wretches went over and shot them in cold blood.”