Letter by: H.H. Griffith in 1921
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A letter written in 1921  by H.H. Griffith, g-son of David Griffith, describing our g-g-g-g-g Grandfather  "Jonis Griffith"  born ca. 1734 Wales.  This letter mentions Jonis Griffith's two brothers, John & David,  and Jonis Griffith's three son's, "Jonis", John & David, and children of his son "David", but does not mention any daughters.  Our Rebecca (Griffith) Stacy was born 1805 in Jackson Co.Tn. was the daughter of Jonis Griffith of GainsBoro, Jackson Co.Tn..  Since this older Jonis Griffith born ca. 1734 would have been in his 70's, when our Rebecca Griffith  was born in 1805, there is some question in my mind if she was the daughter of this older Jonis Griffith born ca. 1734.  There is the possibility that she was the daughter of Jonis Griffith, Sr's son "Jonis Griffith, Jr.". This Jonis Griffith, Jr. most likely was born ca. 1760-70.  Here you will find many census findings of the Griffith families in Jackson Co.Tn. that was supplied by: Bill Huff, and the letter written by: H.H. Griffith in 1921 was supplied by Mary (Stacy) Johnson back in 1970.  Many thanks to Bill Huff, and Mary (Stacy) Johnson, descendants of Rebecca (Griffith) Stacy, daughter of Jonas Griffith of Gains Boro,Tn...{kgk}, also a descendant of Rebecca (Griffith) Stacy.  You will find many more descenants of Rebecca (Griffith) Stacy at: My Stacy Family Site. 9/13/02 Tath & Will Borden.

Arapho, Oklahoma
Guy H. Griffith
U.S.S. Pinola
San Pedro, Calif.
Aug. 01,1921

Dear Son,

In Response to your request when at home, and for your information-hereafter I will say that from legion and information by folk lore and other wise handed down through our family for generation-probably dating back into the sixth century.

But later about the year 1750, I wish to state that our great grandfather who was your great, great grandfather JONIS GRIFFITH, with JOHN and DAVID GRIFFITH, his two older brothers, came to America and settled in the state of  NORTH CAROLINA.  JONIS GRIFFITH, the character of this sketch was then a mere boy of sixteen years of age.

About the year 1755 or probably 1760, accompanied by DANIEL BOONE, and two other men from NORTH CAROLINA to KENTUCKY, on a hunting expedition, this party of four broke camp one morning-BOONE going in one direction and the other composed of the two men and the boy went in the opposite direction from the way BOONE went. (Now if you ever read the life of DANIEL BOONE you will notice he never knew what ever became of the three-which was incorrect as for DANIEL BOONE in after years visited JONIS GRIFFITH'S son DAVID, my own GRANDFATHER).  I mention this discrepancy to show that history, at least sometimes, is incorrect.

On this fatal day, our GREAT GRANDFATHER and his two companions were run upon by a party of SHAWNNE INDIANS, who proceeded to execute them by torturing at the stake.  After they were bound to the stakes and fuel supplied around, the torch was touched to the elder of the two grown men and he fell to his knees and did not cease to pray without even flinching until death relieved him of his misery.  All day until this incident the sky was without a single cloud, but when the forest fires were lighted there appeared a storm cloud a heavy rain which prevented the ignition of the second fire surrounding the other men, but the Indians executed him with the tomahawk or hatchet, leaving GRANDFATHER yet un-executed.  After some parlay, the old Chief decided to adopt the boy, JONIS GRIFFITH.  He was turned to the custody of the Chief's two daughters.  They took him to a pool of water and were going to make and Indian of him by scarifying him and wasting the white man's blood and with the same instrument scarify themselves with the gar bills and smear their blood on his wounds-and by so doing make an Indian of h im, i.e... have a nice brother.  But when they laid hand on him he thought that they were going to drown him  by holding his head under water which he resented by grabbing each young sister by the back of the neck and butted their foreheads together and at one spring leaped out onto the creek bank.  The other Indians roared with laughter.  This display of activity brought him into general favor and it was not long until the SHAWNEES had the boy on race tour running foot races with most famous sprinters from other tribes in that vicinity and usually winning many ponies.  JONIS GRIFFITH remained with the SHAWNEE for over three years before he had a single opportunity to escape, they keeping constant vigilance and every act or movement he made-sometimes kind to him and other times exceedingly tyrannical, but all this three years he was courting their confidence and friendship, but finally the time came, the bucks, braves or what we might chose to call them, had to go to their annual spring sugar camp which was some distance , and instructed him to remain at the home teepee until he had killed and dried sufficient amount of dried meats to supply them during their sugar making.

There was a small white boy living with the Indians from his childhood.  This boy was to go with him as a pilot having been to their sugar making.  They commenced their journey across the country and traveled until they came to the Ohio River.  He found an old hack berry tree and pushed it down and falling it broke into three pieces.  He took the rawhide thongs that were used for bridles, hobbles and pack straps and bound the three chunks of pieces of logs together making a small raft.  On leaving the Shawnee camps he had prepared himself with beeswax of which he completely plugged the muzzle of the gun and also the touch hold as this was an old flint look.  After securing the long pole he placed the white boy on one end of this log raft, telling him that if he went to the bottom one hundred times, if he did not bring the gun to the top, he would kill him.

They made their landing on the east side of the Ohio River and journeyed on foot.  Within a few days their meats gave out and the boy asked GRANDFATHER to kill game to eat, as he was hungry.  He told the boy that the game was poor and not fit to eat.  The boy replied that he knew fat game as well as any and accused him of trying to get away form the Indians.  On one occasion he caught the boy trying to steal his tomahawk from his belt when he was asleep, presumably to kill him.  He refused to shoot game because he didn't want to attract attention by sound of gunfire.  However, he spied a skunk and slipped up on it an placing his foot on it's back he cut its throat with his hunting knife, broiled this skunk and both ate it.

They continued their journey eastward until they saw signs of civilization and located a small cabin but did not  know for sure whether it was occupied by and Indian or white man.  There was a small spring near by, he secreted himself and the boy until late in the evening when a woman appeared at the door with piggin in hand and started toward this spring singing.  He said that was the sweetest music he ever heard as had not listened to singing of a woman for over three years.  At the spring she stooped down and commenced to dip water with an old time gourd and fill the piggin.   He tossed a small pebble from his place of concealment that fell near her.  She looked up, saw him dressed in buckskin in Indian style and with alarm she screamed aloud.  Her husband cam out of the cabin door with a gun in hand.  GRANDFATHER stood up telling the woman not to be alarmed as he was not an Indian-stood his gun on the butt at right arms length with hand on the muzzle showing the man they sought peace.  They remained there with these people until their feet were rested and then continued their journey to HIS BROTHER'S HOME IN NORTH CAROLINA.

The report of his escape and return was soon narrated over this part of the country; also the having in his possession of the white boy which caused a lady from distance to pay them a visit in hopes of finding her son that was captured when he was a mere baby and carried off by the Indians.  When she arrived at JOHN GRIFFIHT'S home she was told the boy was with GRANDFATHER somewhere on the farm but would return at noon.  During the wait for the return this lady told of the loo seeing of her baby boy and of the fruitless search for him and in her conversation she said that if this was hers she would recognize him by one mark that when he was nursing she was smoking and dropped a fire coal from her pipe and burned a scar below the left nipple on his breast in shape of a moon.  When the BOY and GRANDFATHER returned at noon hour, JOHN GRIFFITH'S wife told GRANDFATHER what the good mother said as to the scar, he called the boy to him and opening his shirt bosom there was the crescent shape scar.  The mother saw the scar and sprang at the boy to embrace him in her arms but the boy, not knowing one word that had been said, was taken on surprise and frantically screaming with arms around Grandfather's neck, resented the woman coming near him, and Grandfather with the boy accompanied the happy woman to her home and remained there until the boy became reconciled to his new home and his own mother.  The boy lived to express this gratitude to Grandfather in later years when he was a grown man, for the kindly kidnaping and delivery to his own mother.  As to the boys father I know not-never having heard of him.

 

Grandfather was married and raised three son's named DAVID, JOHN & JONIS, after his two elder brothers that accompanied him from WALES TO AMERICA.    JONIS was named for himself.  He lived on the then frontiers and had many battles with Indians and on one occasion he was accompanied into the Indian country by his brother JOHN, who took a dog along over GRANDFATHER'S protest and one night the dog howled and barked in reply to the howls of the wolf.  The dog's barking revealed the whereabouts of GRANDFATHER AND HIS BROTHER JOHN, and in the schurmish the Indians shot GRANDFATHER in the hip and by good fortune Grandfather concealed himself in a large hollow log and during the day the Indians crossed over this log and also sat on it but not located his whereabouts.  He remained concealed there until the next morning without food or water.

And now I will tell you a story that sounds like fiction but I was taught to believe it as he had told it and I must say right here that JONIS GRIFFITH was a man of character and I wish to add as this is simple a confidential letter, that I never heard of a Griffith being implicated in any criminal court proceeding or being other than a high standard of good citizens.  Well to tell my story-- On this occasion GRANDFATHER had ridden a young horse that was hardly bridlewise and he supposed the Indians had captured the young horse or that he had runaway and gone toward home, but to his surprise and I might say delight just at sunrise the following morning after the battle with the indians, this horse appeared at the hollow log and stood still until GRANDFATHER crawled to him and by main and fortune led him to the log and successfully mounted this kind horse and reached home safely.  On one other occasion he was shot in the shoulder and these two bullets- one in the hip and one in his shoulder was buried with him after very old age, IN THE BURIAL GROUNDS, NEAR JENNINGS CREEK IN JACKSON COUNTY TENNESSEE.

I remember this old graveyard and many of our ancestors were buried there.  His son  DAVID,the father of my fatherSAMUEL TEETER GRIFFITH, JOHN FLETCHER GRIFFITH, JAMES GUINN GRIFFITH, ALSO THREE DAUGHTERS, SALLIE, POLLIE AND NANCY All of  old age. My father SAMUEL TEETER GRIFFITH spent his youth in roaving-was full of adventure and in 1847 he enlisted  in the U.S. Infantry from the territory of Oregon and served in the war between the U.S. and Mexico as a private.

And at the battle of Bunavista when the Mexican Commander Santananna had the American troops surrounded and hoisted the black flag, Gen. Zacariah rode in front of the lines of his army and pointing out the black flag, said "boys you will know what that ,means- and the result depends on you".  JOHN J. HARDIN was my father's colonel and leading his men in a charge was shot in the heart and fell from his horse almost within the Mexican lines.  My father being physically a powerful man discarded his habbersack and canteen of water-ran to the Colonel Hardin and threw him on his shoulder, ran back behind his own lines, during this time the Mexicans were shooting at him but without results.
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This was the decisive battle resulting in America's favor.  When part of the U.S. Army was disbanded, my father received his honorable discharge and started over land across Texas for home at GAINSBORO, TN..  He was accompanied by two discharged soldier friends.  They fitted up with saddle and pack ponies and the weather being good began their long and weary march.  At that date, Texas was sparsely settled and no roads to travel, only an occasional trail that they would be forced to abandon when said trails did not lead in a northern direction.  This journey was without incident worth noting until they reached a section of country that was very dry and no water for either man nor beast.  Their provisions were gone and for water to drink they were forced to spread their clothing at night on the grass and in the morning ring the dew out for quenching their excessive thirst.  And there was no game in that drought stricken section, the situation began to look distressing and they decided to feast on one of their horses, but on the morning of the third days fast my father discovered smoke at some distance.  They directed their way to this smoke not knowing whether they would find friend or foe.  On their arrival at location of said smoke they found an Indian and his squaw who were at a stagnate water hole for the purpose of killing such game as might come there for water.  Both the Indian and father talked Dutch or Dutch would have answered their purpose just as well for neither could understand the language of the other. But father made them understand, by signs and pointing to the water and string of dried meats what his distress was.  The Indian fed them and they remained there until the next morning after having bartered the Indian for sufficient dried meats to last them for several days.
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After traveling until they had reached the vicinity of about where the county BARE STROP is l ocated on the TEXAS map,  had struck camp and ate their supper, when one of this party of three was taken violently ill with symptoms that would be diagnosed as appendicitis.  I regret to say that his man's name is forgotten by me, but he continued to grow worse and during the night he died.  My father and his three companions JAMES HARBERT, the man I was named for, had  no way  for excavating a grave there in the bone dry wilderness, and this sick man in the lone Texas wilderness realized he couldn't live under so much suffering.  Also the impossibility of my father and   James Harbert digging a grave with nothing more than a camp knife.  He asked them to p lace his body after death in a nearby tree and bind it securely that the wolves that he heard nearby could not devour his dead body.  He also requested that they go by the way of his home in the State of ARKANSAS, and deliver the sad message of his death to his old mother and his only sister, also his trinkets and such things including some money that should rightfully go to them-and this request was fully complied with.  After his death they placed his body in the mosquete tree and bound it there firmly bidding his last remains a friendly farewell.  On reaching his mother's home in Arkansas, as they promised their dying companion, advising her of the sad and lonely death of her soldier and beloved son, also returned to her his two horses, equipment, cash and pocket knife bidding this mother and sister goodbye, journed homeward and if they ever heard of them after, I never heard him mention it.
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My father returned to his father's homelocate on JENNINGS CREEK four miles from GAINSBORO, the county seat of JACKSON COUNTY, where he remained until he was married to his sweetheart from their childhood day's NANCY PRICE, afterwards MY MOTHER.  Our house being burned during the Civil War between the states with all its contents including my Mother's bible which contained our family records and for that reason I have not recorded date of my father and mother's marriage, but there is one thing this I do know and that is at 6'Oclock A.M. December the 26th,1850 I discovered the United States of America and today over seventy five years later, I well  remember the two-story log house with a ten foot hallway and two side rooms or leanto's making a six from house covered with home rived clabbords and floored with chestnut and poplar planks that had been sawed by two men while the logs lay on a frame seven or eight feet above ground one man above and the other one standing on the ground sawing perpendicular or up and down.  Yes, My Son, I remember some things that happened when I was a very small American.  Incidents that would not be transmitted over the consolidated wires of this age, but incidents that surely made me sit up and take notice.

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My first surprise-My father and the hired man went hunting one night and caught a coon, a real Tennessee Coon with rings around its tail, but this was not the same coon that DAVIE CORCKETT grinned out of the tree.  On my Father's return, he  dropped the coon in the hall until the following morning.  Owing to my extreme youth of only two years I was not apprised of this Coon Hunt, but the following morning I was up and out early and thru this hallway as I had been used of going, but, oll horrors-what had I run into, on to, what was it anyhow-and why was it there was it living if it was dead to me it was just as dangerous, and from that day to this I have never for one moment lost sight of that coon-can see it even with my eyes closed.
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Surprise #2, Our house was located just back from the public road with the yard gate directly in front of the house and back of the house was a cornfield-two hungry cows were in the cornfield.  My father set two dogs on them and one of the cows being crowded and uncomfortable close, cut across lots, It ran thru the hall as a near out for the gate.  I, as ever in evidence, was standing in the hall acting the part of a spectator simply having the time of my life. When the two laid hold of one ear each and the cow reversed herself near center of the hall landing on her back with heels in the air and dogs holding to an ear each-I in confidence must tell you that I failed to make record of my thoughts.  I did not stay any longer.
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Surprise #3, My father returned from town one day as usual, he dismounted from the old gray mare at yard gate and set his saddle bags, leather war bags, of that day and date, inside the yard.  His young America was there to greet him and incidentally bum a ride.  The horse lots and stables were nearly 1/4 Th. mile further on up the creek from the house.  Father set me in the saddle=I was three years old and had my favorite cat in my arms.  Father walked in front and this great calvary man bringing up the rear.  There was a sycamore tree near the yard gate with a hollow in it where the hens usually laid eggs.  Father stooped to look in this hens nest--when just at that moment the mare heard her young colt squealing at the barn and that was the signal for that mare to go and she did go and she went in a hurry with my father bringing up the rear.  I did not use either whip nor spurs, not believing they were needed in this race.  Every third jump the mare would squeal and the colt never failed to reply, which seemed to hasten the mare along.  I held fast my cat with one hand and gripped the saddle pummel with the other.  About half way there, there were two women washing near the roadside.  They hollowed to me to throw down the cat, I obediently obeyed just like a good little boy would do, but mare and I continued our race and came thru in record time.  The mare stopped abruptly at the draw barn when she was met by her colt with a whiner.  The lot draw barn were just at the top of the creek- some fifteen feet from the water and it was rather steep down to the water's edge.  I was somewhat impatient and did not care to ride any more just then.  I like our Sohyennes proceeded to dismount from the right side and on the side near the water and with a jar I lit on my back and rolled into the edge of the creek, when father picked me up.  I well remember that I was so short of start that my chin bumped the saddle pummel at every jump the mare made.
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Incident #4, My Father had a very fancy bridle used on a stallion.  His bridle was inlaid with red velvet and adorned with many bright buckles.  I was fond of playing with this bridle, oft times tying it around the neck of my only playmate, a big brindle dog.  There was a stariway out in the hall extending to the second story. I, after bridling this dog with my little hatchet in hand led the dog to the top of the stairway and for cause unknown to me, the dog solemnly decided to return back down the stairs.  Of course I rescented this change of my well laid plans, and in holding on to the dog we, he and I, pretty bridle and hatchet, became well tangled and descended the stariway in order of an empty barrel and making possible more noise than two barrels could have made by rolling over and down the stariway.  The hatchet hammered on most of the steps.  The dog began a vocal serenade and I was expanding my lungs to more than justify this occasion.  My dear Mother, being attracted to the scene of excitement took a hand in the deal and succeeded in separating the hatchet, dog, bridle and young promoter of troubles.
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Incident #5- When at the age of three, probably four years, I filed a application for a pretty pair of new boots with red tops.  Not knowing that there was disappointment in store for me. I built many high air castles as to the good times coming when we, Father, Mother , and our brindle dog named Rush, would cross the ridge on extended Sunday to visit our kinfolks.  I painted in my own mind as to how our aunts would admire my pretty new boots with the Russian red tops.  A cock peafowl was never more vain than was I on these meditations.  But, alas I was doomed to cruel disappointment.  My Father was not considering my bill of wants as seriously as he could have done.  He instead bought for me a pair of nice calf shoes with red lining.  They were fairly pretty but they were not boots with Russian red tops and whole unsuited for me to wear on occasion of our family visit across the ridge to see our kinfolk.  Well, I held a council of war that was strictly private.  I used such profound caution that I did not include even my most trusted friend Rush.  I soon had my plans of action laid, with nothing to do but put them into action.  My Father was absent somewhere on the farm, my Mother had taken the stave handled cedar piggin and gone to milk Lill the generous cow.  There was a bright glowing fire in the open fireplace with back stick and fore stick resting each end on old time andirons and there being a nice bed of bright burning coals.  Now being the opportune time to avenge my Father's want on and unpardonable offense, I, with care and caution, went to the open door looking  carefully all around could see my Mother milking Lill the cow but could not se my father anywhere near.  I returned to the fireplace and carefully placed the new shoes with the red lining directly under the forestick and on this bright red bed of burning coals.  Well what my father did for was a plenty!  But I received the boots later all ok.

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When I was eight years of age my Father and Mother immigrated from their home in Tenn to GRABY LEAD MINES IN NEWTON COUNTY, MISSOURI.  Four months later I lost my good mother from death.  She being my last true friend then or since.  My father broke housekeeping, placed me in the care of his cousin, and my one year old sister he boarded out.   The following year the Civil War was brewing and our vicinity was in sympathy with the South and all newspapers were talking Negro equality arousing extreme prejudice. My father was strictly for the the maintenance of the Union, and fought the proposition to secede from the Union.  Just South of us and down the creek there was a settlement of Unionist or Northern Sympathizers.  Let me diverge right here for one comment, My Father never attended school except for one time of three months, but he was strictly a home student and acquired a fair education.  Taught school and mastered civil engineering and surveying fairly well and was a man of good information and was a man of marked influence in the community.  Possibly for the reason he was marked by this lot of Northern sympathizers who had organized a republican club.  At one of their regular meetings my Father's case was taken under consideration and the consequences were they appropriated a committee of three to wait on my Father and give him a PUBLIC WHIPPING and this committee was composed of MARK HARMON, A MAN NAMED SPENCER, AND ONE NAMED POLLARD, A LOCAL SCHOOL TEACHER.
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My Father was not given any notice to come forward or otherwise but on said day designated for him to receive his dressing He, ignorant of these resolutions, was hoeing corn in the field when HARMON, SPENCER AND POLLARD, came into the filed where he was at work. He thought nothing of their appearance until HARMON, told their mission.  Then Father observed that they were armed with hickory switches that were near large enough to classed as clubs.  Father was then near the end of the row.  He shifted to a fence corner and invited them to proceed, but they did not respond.  Father felt schagrined at their presumption.  But the following night he crossed the country over near the Cowskin River to the camp of COLONEL JOHN COFFEE, and enlisted for three months service in behalf of the Southern Confederacy.  Two months later he was a participant of the Wilson Creek Battle fought August tenth then miles from Springfield, Missouri. PRICES, was partially surrounded early in the morning by GEN. CEGARS ARMY of Regulars with great advantage as to odds in numbers.  Father was only armed with an old flint look rifle.  He laid by a white oak sapling and loaded, re-loaded and shot seven shots without changing his position from behind his much prized sapling. Father had three cousins in his company JOHN, TATH & WILL BORDEN, three brothers, mere boys, Will Borden was the youngest, and quite an athlete somewhat renown as a foot racer.  Their mother was a widow and Will had made his home with Father a great deal and was a great favorite of my Father.  Father had fears that Will would show the white feather he would often call out "Will, Will, stay with them my boy", and continued to encourage the boy Will though there was no need of this precaution for Will was a stayer even to the last ditch.  TATH BORDEN was shot thru the thigh just about six inches above the knee.
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The following February at the battle of Pea Ridge Father picked up the Confederate flag after its bearer had been shot down and bore the flag thru the remaining time of the battle.  Later his enlistment being expired he came home and he with others went on a scouting expedition. In the vicinity of MARK HARMON.  There was a boy with Father RUFE MAYFIELD, that MARK HARMON had knocked from his horse by striking him on the side of his head with a gun.  This boy had a mutual interest with Father in making settlement with this man HARMON. They were riding along leisurely one day when they spied a man wearing a red shirt and the boy recognized him as MARK HARMON. The charge began and HARMON  did not attempt to make defense though he was heavily armed, but ran and continued to run until he was shot down.  His arms were taken and his body left lying where it fell.  SAM & BATCH MOORE,  two brothers were with Father and young MAYFIELD.  BATCH MOORE appropriated a famous two edge knife that HARMON was know to have carried for years in his boot leg as that was his style and idea of life.  HARMON was one of the three that Father was indebted to.
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A few days later Father , knowing that his old enemy POLLARD was in the country, in company of SAM MOORE just mentioned in the HARMON  killing, approached POLLARDS home just at dusk.  POLLARD  was eating supper.  Father went to the back door and MOORE went to the front door, arrested POLLARD, took his about six miles and told him to say his prayers.  Instead he broke guard and ran.  Father being somewhat of a sprinter himself ran and caught him.  They hanged POLLARD to a mulberry tree and left him hanging, and about one month later a boy of our neighborhood DAN ADAMS found the body still hanging to the mulberry limb.  I could have seen the tree but did not want to see it.  Two out of three having paid for their visiting my Father.  The third, SPENCER, was laying out in the brush near this home.  Father watched a small girl take a basket of provisions to him.  Father was steadily approaching his place of concealment when SPENCER discovered him and broke to run.  Father fired on SPENCER just as he was crossing a rail fence and the bullet lodged in SPENCER'S hip, and I heard long afterwards that SPENCER was carrying the bullet.  I am not boasting of this     unfortunate occurrence and would not have my sons believe that they originated from a family of murderers but this was wartime and MARK HARMON had the reputation of being a dangerous and bad man.  In less than one year from the killing of MARK HARMON,  HIS SON WILL HARMON, a boy that I knew well, got into some kind of a brawl at a country dance just four miles from our house and he and his antagonist shot to death each other then and there.
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BATCH MOORE was captured by the Militia and was being conveyed to their encampment at NEWTONIA, MO.  BATCH had  this MARK HARMONS famous bowie knife on his person and he well knew that at camps he would be searched and when this knife was found and identified by HARMONS SON, JOHN  who was there, it would be all over with him.  BATCH,  and some other prisoners were being transported in a wagon and there was a crack in the bottom of the bed. When near Newtonia they had to enter thru a long land and there was a large pond of water and mud.  He quietly slipped this knife thru the crack in the wagon bed and into the pond unobserved by the guards and if that knife was ever reserected, I  know not.  JOHN HARMON who was living near Neosho  a few years ago may yet still be living there Never knew of the facts as to the killing of his father nor of the disposition of his father's knife.

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Father re-enlisted in he Confederate Army, PARSON'S BRIGADE, SIXTEENTH REGIMENT AND COMPANY and was in the battle of HELENA, ARKANSAS, under GEN. HINDMAN. He was detailed to attend the wounded and his badge should have been respected, but as he was thrown in with other captured prisoners and shipped by rail to Alton ,Ill. where he was kept for eight months confined to the Penitentiary Barracks.  He Always grieved of this fact of being kept in a state prison.  He considered that it was a reflection on character that would be inherited by myself and my sister.  He was transferred from Alton to Fort Delaware Bay where he was detained for twelve months, and then he was exchanged for Federal prisoners man for man.

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My Father was returned to his company just about this time that PRESIDENT LINCOLN was assassinated by JOHN WILKS BOOTH, remaining there but a day or two. He came on to my Uncle and his brother JOHN FLETCHER GRIFFITH'S  home at New Blue Ridge, Collin County, Texas, where I was being taken care of by my Uncle.  About this time Miss NANCY FRAZIER, who was caring for my Motherless sister came from Meoso, Mo . to Red River County, Texas, and the following September 1865, Father married this good woman, and let me say right here, for fear that I should fail to later, that this good  woman, the so oft abused STep Mother, was the best friend I ever had after my own dear Mother's death and burial.  My dear stepmother could not have been better nor treated more kindly her own son.  YES I LOVED HER for she deserved my love.  I believe the above is about the information asked for, I have made not effort to furnish a general genealogy of the GRIFFITHS for that would have been a most voluminous task requiring the recording of hundreds of names.

I have endeavored to give to you the leading facts in connection with our immediate family./

As Ever, Your Father and Friend,
H.H. Griffith

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