Sally Scull
April 5, 1843
I guess I can't say I'm surprised my
marriage is ending. Sad to say I'm really not that upset
about it. My husband Jessie Robinson has made it clear to me over
the years that his involvement with the Texas Rangers was the most
important commitment in his life. He's always had that as an
outlet for his anger, and unfortunately I've had to take my
frustrations out on him. He's accused me of being unfaithful
too! The nerve
of this man. I'd like to put him out of his misery with a single
bullet to the chest. I haven't been anywhere close to being
faithful, but neither has he. I can't help it anyways.
Jessie is eighteen years older than me. It's hard not to be
attracted to the younger men, and the men who are actually my
age. I've got several neighbor boys who are probably shaking in
thier boots, and praying I don't tell Jessie about our little affairs.
February 12, 1844
I really believe that I married
Jessie simply for security. My dad had died just before I met
him, and I probably wouldn't have felt the need to be married if that
hadn't happened. I'm blessed to have gotten two great children
out of the situation. My daughter, Nancy, and my
son, Alfred. I've taken them away to keep them away from Jesse,
but I
know he will keep fighting to get them back. I've recently been
seeing a man named George Scull. He's a pretty good guy, but men
are few and far between these days so I can't be picky. I know
I'm going to get a lot of grief for this considering my divorce was
final only eleven days ago, but I plan on marrying George.
December 30, 1844
Today I did something I'm probably
going to regret. This decision was entirely up to me, and
surprisingly George was supportive. I sold the whole four hundred
acres I inherited from my daddy along with a few steers, four cows,
twenty hogs, several other animals, and an entire set of my gun maker's
tools. It sounds like I gave up quite a bit, but it's all in
exchange for an easier way of life. I've also decided to put my
two children, Alfred and Nancy, in a convent while George and I are on
the road. It's going to be so hard to leave them, but I know they
will get a better education and they will be safe. I'll make time
to visit them every couple of months or so. I just have to keep
the children away from Jesse, and I think this will be the most
efficient way to do that.
April 4, 1845
I just left the convent and the kids
seem to be doing very well. It's getting a little easier to leave after
visits now. Today little Alfred begged me to tell him a story
from my childhood. I told them of the time the Indians tried to
get into our house. The story goes like this:
It was a cold
winter night in our cozy little Texas cabin. The only light for
miles came from our fireplace. It was too cold to put out the
fire, and we prayed the Indians wouldn't notice the light through the
cracks in the cabin walls. My mother had just put me and my
sisters to sleep, and my father and brothers were gone on a trip.
I heard something loud bang against the cabin door. My mother sat
straight up in the bed. It happened again, and I could see the
door moving. My momma jumped from her bed and grabbed the axe
that stood next to the door. Back in the old days, the doors of
cabins didn't set completely on the floor. The Indian had pushed
his moccasins right up under the door trying to free the door from its
hinges. My mother whispered for us to cover our ears, but I was
too frightened to even move my arms. She raised the axe above her
head, and let out a scream as she chopped the Indian's toes off with
one swift movement. He let out the most awful yelp and hobbled
away as fast as he could!
The children have always loved that
story, and I enjoy being able to tell them about their tough grandma!
January 7, 1849
I've been lying low for the last
couple of years. Last year George and I were herding cattle
around Corpus Christi, Texas. We had been fighting a lot.
He had been drinking quite a bit, and beating on me whenever he got the
chance. Anyways, we got into a huge fight. I said something
smart alecky and he slapped the hell out of my face. I had
had enough of it. I remember the tears streaming down my cheeks
as I
blasted him in the temple with my gun. They were tears of
relief. I felt liberated.
March 2, 1852
It seems I can't get away from
Corpus Christi. Several people have asked me about George, but I
just tell them he died of the fever. Nobody will ever find his
body, and if they do at this point, all they will find is bones.
I've been trading horses and cattle-dealing all over this part of
Texas, and I'm doing it all on my own this time. I know these
parts like the back of my hand. I've been dressing in men's
clothing so that I can blend in on the cattle trail. The past few
weeks I've had quite a good time. I finally got to wear a dress
and feel like a woman this past week. I attended what the
townspeople call a fandango. It was so much fun, despite the fact
that I got harassed by several men. They left me alone after I
discreetly slipped up my dress just above my knee, and they eyed my
six-shooter. That usually does the trick. If it doesn't,
I'm never afraid to bust a cap in someone's chest.
May 20, 1854
I've decided to do my part for the
Confederacy. I'm going to help haul cotton along the Cotton
Road. I know the area so well that it won't be a very difficult
job for me. I married John Doyle a couple of years ago, and I've
decided to go by my given name Sarah while I'm on the trail.
Being known as "Sally Scull" has gotten to be a hassle, and it's hard
to be discreet
when everybody knows who I am now. Another reason is that I've
lost count of how many people I've killed, and I'm starting to get a
little bit scared the law might be after me. Oh, and not to mention
John
disappeared a couple of months ago, and his family is gettin'
suspicious. I wouldn't bet on him coming home anytime soon either.
Author's Note:
I think Sally Scull has been my
favorite outlaw to read about so far. She had one of the worst
reputations, and was feared by a lot of people during the 1800's.
Mothers actually threatened their children saying, "You better not do
that, or Sally Scull will get you!" Sally did live up to her
reputation though. She lived a rough life, and it's true that she
killed a couple of people that we know of. What's funny is that
Sally was pretty soft-hearted. She was crazy about her children
Alfred and Nancy, and did everything she could to keep them away from
their father. She was tough like a man, but she also liked to
dance and get dressed up! Two of Sally's five husbands
disappeared and it's believed that she killed at least one of them if
not both. She married her fifth husband, Christoph Horsdorff, in
1860. He was twenty years younger than Sally. Sally Scull
disappeared soon after the Civil War ended, and some believe she was
killed by Horsdorff. Others believe she disappeared on purpose,
and
went to live with her son Alfred. One man actually claimed to
have found a boot sticking up out of a shallow grave, and when he went
to check it out he found Sally apparently murdered. Nobody really
knows, and that's what makes the story so interesting. Another
interesting fact I learned is that Sally Scull lived in Miller County
for a while as a child. Miller County was part of Arkansas at the
time, but is now Eastern Oklahoma. When I investigated Miller
County it listed the town Poteau, Oklahoma as being a part of this
area. I actually live in Poteau, Oklahoma so I thought that was
pretty awesome! Unfortunately there are not any known photos of
Sally Scull, but hopefully you can get an ideal of what she might have
been like. Every story I read about her mentioned her black
bonnet and steel blue eyes!
Sources:
Author: Dan Kilgore
Publications of the Texas Folklore Society 43: Legendary Ladies
of Texas
The Story of
Sally Scull: Two Six-shooters and a Sunbonnet