In 1837, the Republic of Texas was barely a year old, and its frontier was a violent, bleeding edge of North American settlement. To combat the devastating raids of hostile tribes, the new nation stood up a hybrid force of military and law enforcement: the Texas Rangers. They were a loosely governed group of skilled horseback fighters, tasked with pursuing, capturing, and killing the bandits and warriors who plagued Texas settlers.
At this time, the Comanche were the most feared force on the plains. Recent arrivals to Texas themselves, they had transformed into a formidable war machine through their mastery of the horse. Their raiding was so relentless that it stalled settlement west of Austin, Dallas, and San Antonio for decades.
In October 1837, a contingent of Rangers left Fort Smith under Lieutenant A.B. Van Benthuysen and Captain William Eastland. Their mission was to track a Comanche raiding party that had stolen horses from settlements on the Colorado River. After weeks of trailing, the officers split their forces, leaving Van Benthuysen with just 18 men.
The smaller force followed the trail north to the Brazos River, where they mistakenly skirmished with a party of Cherokee and Kichai, killing one man before peace signs were made. The tribes, who were also avowed enemies of the Comanche, pointed the Rangers in the right direction despite the loss.
On November 10th, the Rangers finally made contact with their target on the Trinity River. The Comanche, unaccustomed to being followed so deep into their territory, split their forces. The younger warriors drove the horse herd away while the more experienced fighters attacked the Rangers.
Van Benthuysen’s men took cover in a thicket of trees as roughly 150 mounted Comanche warriors charged. Outnumbered eight to one, the Rangers fought for over two hours with their single-shot rifles and pistols. The fighting was intense, with the Comanche launching intermittent charges from within 15 to 20 feet.
Four Rangers and six horses were killed in the initial fighting. The battle turned when a Texian bullet finally brought down the Comanche war chief. Believing his medicine had been compromised, the warriors retreated. But the respite was short-lived.
After about 15 minutes, a new chief led another charge. This time, the Comanche set a ring of fire around the wooded area, intending to smoke the Rangers out or burn them alive. With no other option, Van Benthuysen ordered a headlong attack on foot.
The desperate charge lasted ten minutes and left six more Rangers dead, but it drove the Comanche into retreat. The survivors collected their wounded and escaped on foot to the Sabine River. Fifty-eight days after riding out of Fort Smith, just eight men straggled back. They had survived, but it would be years before the Rangers learned how to effectively fight mounted Comanche forces in open territory.
In late March 1837, at Fort Colorado near present-day Austin, a small contingent of Rangers was enjoying a quiet evening. The men were veterans of the ongoing fight against the Comanche, who had spent the previous century clearing nearly all of Texas of those who opposed them.
The Rangers had been officially formed in 1823 by Stephen F. Austin. In the years since, they had faced high casualty rates, sometimes as high as 50 percent, but they remained the only consistently effective force fighting the Comanche. On this night, a guard spotted a campfire a few miles west of the Colorado River.
Shadowy figures danced in the flickering light. It was a bold move for any party to light a fire in such hostile territory, and the Rangers concluded it must be Comanche. Captain Andrews was reluctant to order a night attack, but his veterans insisted, and volunteers were quickly gathered.
Fifteen Rangers rode out under Second Lieutenant Wren. After an hours-long crawl on their bellies, they found themselves in view of the camp at sunrise. The Comanche were sleeping off a night of revelry, and the Rangers divided their forces to attack from two directions.
The plan nearly fell apart when Wren led his party to the wrong cluster of cedar trees. The mistake was revealed when a Comanche warrior woke and began singing his personal song to the morning sun. Wren’s party hurried toward the sound, and Ranger Joe Weeks shot the warrior in the back.
The camp sprang to life as the Comanche scrambled to a nearby ravine. A vicious battle ensued, with the Rangers making repeated charges. Private Philip Martin was killed by a bullet to the head, incensing the Rangers, who redoubled their efforts. Eventually, the Comanche slipped away, leaving their horse herd and belongings behind.
The body of the first warrior killed was nowhere to be found after the battle. The Rangers returned to Fort Colorado, where Martin was laid to rest. The fight was a minor but typical example of the countless clashes that would occur across the Texas frontier.
In 1838, a farmer known as Mr. Neil was doing his morning chores when he heard the dreaded sound of an approaching Comanche raiding party. He ran for his cabin, but it was too late. The warriors, painted black and wielding long lances, cut him down in a slow, painful death.
Unaware of his father’s fate, Clayborn Neal was accompanying a small group of Rangers on a resupply mission. He and another volunteer drove a wagon while three Rangers rode alongside. To the young men, serving with the Rangers was an adventure, but the reality was far grimmer.
The Rangers were not gallant figures but cold-blooded killers. Winning on the Texas frontier required outbrutalizing the enemy, which meant tracking the Comanche deep into their territory and killing combatants and non-combatants alike. As the party approached a section of post oak trees, they were ambushed.
Every man in the party was killed within minutes. The Comanche took the supplies, weapons, and animals, then rode hard for the open plains. Back at Fort Smith, Captain Daniel Monroe waited for the overdue party. A scouting party soon found the bodies, and Monroe decided to abandon the fort.
In his report, Monroe wrote, "All the news I have for you is of the worst sort." Other letters from the area described residents waiting "hourly for an attack." The cash-strapped Texas government was unable to mount a meaningful resistance, but settlers continued to flood into the region, often ignoring the fact that the land belonged to the Comanche.
In January 1836, near Austin, a group of Rangers was settling into camp when a young woman crawled over the riverbank. She was Mrs. Hibbons, and she was distraught. Days earlier, she had been traveling with her husband, brother, and two children when they were attacked by Comanche warriors.
Her husband and brother were killed, and she and her children were taken captive. When she could not quiet her infant, a warrior snatched the child and executed him in front of her. She escaped with her other child but left him in the camp to save herself.
The Rangers took to the trail at first light. Among them was young Noah Smithwick, who would later write a famous account of his life as a Ranger. They found the Comanche camp and attacked, catching the warriors by surprise.
During the chaos, a mule carrying the Hibbons boy bolted with the fleeing Comanche. Ranger Conrad Rohrer pursued, aiming his rifle at the buffalo-robed figure. His gun misfired twice. On the third attempt, a comrade recognized the boy and pulled Rohrer’s arm just as the shot went off, the bullet sailing over the child’s head.
The boy was rescued, and the Rangers returned to Austin. Smithwick was awarded the scalp of a warrior he had killed, though he modestly waived his claim in favor of Rohrer. The scene of the mother reuniting with her son was emotional, but such victories were rare.
The Rangers were perpetually undermanned and underfunded, and nearly every lesson they learned was paid for in blood. The Comanche, meanwhile, were suffering their own monumental losses from smallpox. The Texas Revolution ended in April 1836, but the fighting between the Rangers and the Comanche only intensified.
In August 1844, four Rangers were making their way down the Nueces River in South Texas. They were on a mission to investigate a recent battle site. As they stopped for lunch, a group of Comanche ambushed them.
Rufus Perry was struck by three arrows, and Kit Acklin was hit by bullets and an arrow to the mouth. Despite his horrific wounds, Acklin pulled his revolver and killed a warrior. Perry, though grievously wounded, also managed to fire on the attackers.
The two other Rangers, James Dunn and John Curlin, had been swimming and watched the fight unfold from the river. They insisted that charging in would have been foolhardy. With the Comanche swarming, the four decided that Dunn and Curlin, the only uninjured men with horses, would ride for reinforcements in San Antonio.
Acklin and Perry were left alone, wounded and without horses. They hid in a large plot of driftwood as the Comanche searched for them. The warriors walked directly over Perry’s position but miraculously did not discover him.
Perry eventually crawled to the river, washed the blood from his eyes, and began a six-day trek to San Antonio on foot. When he arrived, he was so disfigured that his comrades did not recognize him. Just two hours later, Acklin also appeared, having survived his own ordeal.
Both men were nursed back to health and eventually rejoined the Rangers. Dunn was formally censured by Captain Jack Hayes for his conduct, though his reputation remained strong. The story of Perry and Acklin’s survival was one of countless accounts of bravery and violence in the annals of Old West history.