Stories about the old Goodnight and Chisholm Trails
have so dominated the writings of Western Americana that many have
forgotten that the first great Texas cattle drives ended up at New Orleans rather
than Abilene or Dodge City, Kansas. Known as the Opelousas Trail, enterprising
men took advantage of the thousands of longhorn cattle, unbranded and roaming.
Longhorn cattle |
In Texas and Mexico, the cattle were worthless. Across the Sabine in the United
States, they were worth upwards of a dollar a head. At the time in 1825, it was
illegal to drive longhorn cattle to Louisiana. That didn’t stop men seeking
their fortune.
Dogwood and other flowering trees grow wild in East Texas |
Don't be fooled by East Texas' beautiful flowers and abundant greenery. More dangerous than the black bears, the alligators lurking in the bayous and rivers, the panthers waiting to spring--this is a story that rivals Alfred Hitchcock's tale of the Bates Motel in the movie "Psycho". This is an account of danger faced by those returning from
New Orleans after selling cattle.
Black bear |
Thomas Denman Yocum was born in 1796 in Kentucky to
Jesse Ray Yoakum and Diana How Denton. From birth, Thomas learned theft and
deceit. He was a veteran of the American Revolution. Joining his father, he and his brothers rode with John Murrell then struck out on
their own. Jesse was tried for murder several times in Natchitoches, Louisiana. He was suspected of bribing witnesses and
jurors but was never convicted.
Land Pirate and Slave Stealer John Murrell supposedly sometimes posed a preacher, and with whom Murrell once worked |
After being forcefully “invited” to leave Louisiana,
Thomas Yocum and his family crossed the Sabine River and settled on a Mexican land
grant on Pine Island Bayou, the south boundary of the Big Thicket of Southeast
Texas, around 1830. Having acquired some wealth and affluence by 1835, the killer and slave stealer became more selective with his victims. He and his
family built Yocum’s Inn in Jefferson County, Texas.
Lots of places to hide a body in woods like these of the Big Thicket |
This part of Texas was then a virgin, sparsely-settled region of
prairies, pine barrens, and thickets. Any settler living within ten miles was
considered a neighbor. The deep, navigable stream, 100 feet wide and 75 miles
long, was a tributary of the Neches River and had already attracted ten or more
pioneers who also held land grants from the Mexican government.
Thomas Yocum’s Inn was a combination saloon and
lodging house between Beaumont and Sour Lake and stood on the Opelousas cattle
trail between Texas and Louisiana. This was not a Holiday Inn or Motel 6. More than likely it was a rough log building with only a few rooms for lodgers.
Yocum reportedly rode out at the first sound
of the herds heading east and invited the drovers to quench their thirst and
satisfy their hunger at the Inn. The well-treated travelers spread word of the
genial host’s hospitality. When they returned with money belts filled after
selling their cattle, they once more stopped at Yocum’s Inn.
Big mistake, as
they were never seen again. Instead, the Yocum’s stock of fine horses grew. Did no one notice this? Perhaps they did and feared voicing their concern.
"Piney Woods" of East Texas |
Exactly how many people the Yocum’s robbed and
murdered is open to guess. No one knows. The popularity of Yocum's Inn spread
far and wide. Yocum soon became the postmaster of Pine Island settlement under
the old Texas Republic, supervised the local elections, served on juries, and
was widely respected by his neighbors and travelers alike.
Yocum was a slave-stealer, one who stole slaves from owners or captured those on the underground railway and sold them to others. He acquired many slaves for himself and much land, and by
1839 his herd of l500 head of cattle was the fourth largest in Jefferson
County. While other settlers rode the wiry Creole, or mustang-size ponies of a
type common to Southwest Louisiana, Yocum's stable of thirty horses were stock
of the finest American breeds, and his family drove about in an elegant
carriage.
A gentleman's life, however, held no attraction for
Yocum, a man who literally was nursed from the cradle on murder and rapine. For
many years, Yocum's Inn was actually a den of robbers and killers. What is the
most startling is the fact that Yocum was able to camouflage his activities for
more than a decade, maintaining an aura of respectability while simultaneously
committing the worst of villainies, with a murderous band of cutthroats
unequaled in the history of East Texas.
Tannin makes the water black in many places and can hide secrets |
How Yocum could accomplish this since he used no
alias, is unexplainable, for he, his brothers, his father, and his sons were
known from Texas to Mississippi as killers, slave-stealers, and robbers. If any
neighbor not a member of the gang suspected that something at Yocum's Inn was
amiss, he kept silent.
One account, written by Philip Paxton in 1853,
observed that Yocum, "knowing the
advantages of a good character at home, soon by his liberality, apparent good
humor, and obliging disposition, succeeded in ingratiating himself with the few
settlers."
In October 1841, the Yocum’s downfall occurred. A
well-dressed man stopped at the inn and asked directions. Thomas agreed to ride
with him and show him the way. Thomas returned leading the man’s fine horse.
Yocum’s wife, Pamela Peace Yocum, was overheard to
ask, “How much did he have?” When
Yocum replied only six bits, his wife said, “Any man who rode a horse like that, wore such fine clothes, carried a
gold watch and chain, and only had seventy-five cents on him deserved to get
killed.”
Another potential victim staying at the hotel
overheard the conversation and went for the Regulators, an illegal but active
vigilante group. The posse went to Yocum’s Inn, ordered him and his
family to pack up and quit the country, and then torched the building. Shortly
after the Yocums left, an elderly man who’d been a witness to some of the
goings on at Yocum’s Inn showed the posse the bones of other victims. According
to Paxton, the Regulators found the bones of victims in Yocum's well, in the
neighboring thickets, in the "alligator slough," and even out on the
prairie.
The Regulator posse set out after the Yocums. A day
or so later they caught up with the family. No longer willing to trust a
Yocum's fate to the whims of any jury, the vigilantes shot Yocum through the heart. In addition, they may have killed other
members of his family.
Almost from the date of T. D. Yocum's death, legends
began to circulate concerning the murderer's hoard of stolen treasure, because
the vigilantes knew that neither the robber nor any member of his family
had had time to excavate it before they were driven from the county. Some of
them thought that only Yocum and one of his slaves actually knew where the loot
was hidden. For years treasure hunters dug holes along the banks of Cotton and
Byrd Creeks. Decades later sinks and mounds in the Pine Island vicinity were
said to be the remains of those excavations.
Pine Island Bayou |
My husband, who I call Hero, is an avid fisherman. He and I have visited these waters on fishing trips. There are many species of fish to be caught, but the waters are eerie and mysterious and abound with alligators and cottonmouth moccasin. I found the place disturbing, and that was before I'd heard of the Yocums.
If anyone ever found the Yocum's treasure, that fact was
never made public. One writer claims it is still there awaiting the shovel
that strikes it first. At least the Thomas Yocum family can no longer waylay
travelers. But, who knows what other danger lurks in these dark waters and thick woods?
Sources:
TALES OF BAD MEN, BAD WOMEN, AND BAD PLACES, C. F.
Ekhardt, Texas Tech University Press, 1999
Caroline Clemmons is the award-winning and Amazon bestselling author of over 40 novels and novellas of contemporary and historical western romance. Her latest is CAPTURE HER HEART, Loving a Rancher Series 6 of the Montana Skies Series for Kindle World. You can find CAPTURE HER HEART and her other titles at her Amazon Author Page here.
Sign up for her newsletter here to be notified of new releases, contests, and other events and receive a FREE novella, HAPPY IS THE BRIDE.
That was creepy. (shudder!) I don't think it's a place I'd like to visit or fish! I don't care what the alligator handlers want to tell me, I'm not going near them! Water moccasins look very tame compared to alligators. I think I'd rather go fishing in Canada. :-)
ReplyDeleteIt amazes me how scoundrels like Yocum were able to achieve such wealth through devious means. It would seem, if they applied that same energy toward legal endeavors, they could have achieved legitimate success and wealth. A serial killer, among other dark activities, I imagine everyone was glad when the vigilantes shot him dead without a trial since he had used his slick and deadly skills in trials prior to this occasion.
ReplyDeleteYikes, I don't think I would want to fish in a snake and alligator infested place.
Great post and so well researched.
I grew up in Westberry. Our land is between Beaumont and Sour Lake. Our house is located right in the middle of what is called the Yocum Survey. My Stepfather told me of the Yocums back around 1978. I've hunted and fished all through those woods and would always keep an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. Never know when you might happen up on Yocum's treasure. The land is also part of Hardin county, named after John Wesley Hardin and his family. The land is about 2 miles north of Hwy 90 and Texas A&M Rice Experiment Station. Farm country.
DeleteI am a descendant from the yocum gang and have heard the stories. Fantastic article :)
ReplyDeleteI live on the pine island bayou in Voth
ReplyDelete