Memoirs of Czech Settlers in America: Thomas Kraiča of Caldwell, Texas.

I first met him in 1888 when I visited a meeting of the Světlo Lodge No. 20, ČSPS (Czech-Slavonic Protective Society). From then on, we often saw each other, until finally we became neighbors. We visited each other, talked about everything, and he told me the story of his life, which I will try to portray as far as my memory allows. Thomas Kraiča recounted the course of his life as follows:

This young generation has no idea what hardships and tribulations we old Texas settlers had to endure. They consider this land a land of freedom, abundance, and surplus, and they don't know the difficulties we had to struggle with before we paved the way for their comfort and prosperity. For us, this land was a land of freedom where we were granted only the freedom to die of hunger and disease, or to defend our existence through the greatest hardships of life. And we defended it, and so that our descendants can at least partially understand at what cost, I am writing these memoirs.

My father already had a kind of free, rebellious spirit and expressed views before people that were considered dangerous to the state and displeasing to God in those times. Not far from Zadveřice in Moravia, my birthplace, stood a large cross with Christ, and someone discovered that Christ had supposedly been shot. Whether it was so or not, my father, for expressing his free views on religion, was considered the perpetrator of that blasphemous act, that he and no one else had fired a shot into that Christ. This rumor spread quickly, which further embittered my father's already difficult life, so he decided to emigrate to America.

I was born in Zadveřice, Moravia, in 1848, and in 1855, when I was 7 years old, my father sold the farm and we moved to America. At that time, it wasn't so easy to emigrate, because everyone had to first obtain government permission, a so-called passport. My father, who was already known for his freethinking, was delayed in receiving his passport for a long time, especially because of the suspicion that he had committed the aforementioned crime. About 20 families from Zadveřice and the surrounding area were leaving for America at that time, and so finally, everyone, including my father, was officially allowed to emigrate, and the whole expedition set out on its long journey at the end of April. It was the first larger expedition from that region, so it's no wonder that it caused a great sensation in the wider area. People came from afar to look at the "Americans," as they already called us, and gave us endless advice and warnings. They predicted death and destruction for us, how the sea would swallow us up and our bodies would serve as food for sea monsters. When the day of departure came, there was endless crying and wailing, so that not a single eye remained dry, both among us leaving our homeland and among those who remained there.

After this painful farewell to our homeland and friends, we found ourselves on board a ship, a sailing ship, because regular steamship service did not yet exist. As a seven-year-old boy, I don't remember much about the details of our journey, but I do remember how my father lifted me high on the deck one day to see if I could see land. But wherever my eye looked, there was nothing to be seen but the vast expanse of water. We had a smooth voyage, and so in 6 weeks we arrived in Galveston. Everyone would have been happy to set foot on solid ground again, but we weren't allowed to do so immediately. We were kept on the ship for a whole week before we were allowed to disembark onto American soil. Perhaps for health reasons, we were kept on the ship, after which, after a week-long wait, a smaller boat finally transported us from our sailing ship to the shore. There, each of us breathed a sigh of relief, but only for a moment, because after a short rest we had to board another ship, a steamboat, which took us across the bay to Houston in about 12 hours.

At that time, there were no railroads in Texas yet, and if we wanted to get to Cat Spring, where we were headed, we had to find wagons in Houston to transport us there. Yes, even horses were scarce here, and transport across the vast plains, forests, and hills was mostly done by ox-drawn carts, and we had to be content with such as well. So it's no wonder that our journey from Houston to Cat Spring took over a week. In San Felipe, we were welcomed by a Czech priest, Father Zvolánek, who was already taking care of the salvation of Czech souls there. In Cat Spring, there was a Czech merchant, Raimershofer, to whom our journey led, because it was he who, with his enticing letters sent to the old country, had moved all our countrymen to emigrate to America.

When we finally reached our destination after such long travel hardships, new hardships began. As you can imagine, Cat Spring didn't look the way we had imagined it in our fantasies based on Raimershofer's letters. The disappointment was general, and again there was crying and wailing, especially among the women immigrants. But there was no point in complaining, and each of us had to do something to find some livelihood. Those who had some money from home bought land, and those who didn't rented it from the Germans, of whom there were already several there. Mr. Raimershofer, of course, did everything he could to ensure that we stayed there in his neighborhood, and therefore he praised it to us in every way. As a merchant, he was interested in gaining buyers for his goods, and he was also an agent for the local land, so he also gained something from its sale. Despite his praise, however, many of our fellow immigrants went further, where the land seemed to them to be more fertile, but my father still bought land in Raimershofer's neighborhood.

The journey to America cost a fortune back then. Just for the passage of one person, $70 was paid, our family was large, and so my father didn't have much money left when he arrived in Cat Spring. However, he still had enough to acquire everything necessary for the farm, namely three cows with calves, a horse, a piglet, and other necessities. We immediately moved everything to the purchased land, but there was no dwelling there. In the meantime, we lived under an oak tree and worked on a modest shelter so that we would have somewhere to take refuge from inclement weather. We set to work with gusto, each of us helping as best we could, and soon we had our home. Then came the clearing of the forest, fencing, and preparing the land for the next harvest.

All this strenuous work fell on the parents, because we children were not yet capable of hard work. I was 7, one sister 9, another 2 years old, and the oldest, 18 years old, had to go into service because my father was running out of money and there was no prospect of any other. Both father and mother also went to work for others to earn a living, but even that work was scarce and living was expensive. A grown man received 50 cents a day for a full day's work on the farm, while corn, and very poor corn at that, sold for $1.25 a bushel, a barrel of flour for $12, and so on. We arrived at the farm only in July, and therefore it was already too late that year to grow anything, so my father had to go to work whenever the opportunity arose. He worked on his own and on others' land until he fell ill from the exertion. As soon as he recovered somewhat, he had to go back to work, and so it went day after day.

By the next year, my father had cleared about 5 acres of wooded land and planted the whole area with cotton. However, the land was poor and the weather was also unfavorable, and so my mother carried the cotton from all those five acres on her back to the gin (a cotton cleaning plant where the seed is separated from the fiber). For the entire harvest, weighing about 50 pounds, my mother brought home a bushel of cornmeal, and that was the entire reward for our year-long strenuous work. A bleak outlook for the future appeared before us, because even Mr. Raimershofer didn't want to give us anything on credit, despite the fact that we had previously spent all our money with him. From all sides, we were faced with scarcity, hunger, and misery, because there was no thought of any earnings.

A mother is the guardian angel of the household, and when she sees the need, she doesn't hesitate to sacrifice her life for it. So also our mother, in that sad moment, had a saving idea to pull the family out of misery. She decided that she would go into service with the other two girls, and my father, with me and my youngest sister, would somehow muddle through. And so, in mid-summer, my mother said goodbye to us, setting out on a 68-mile journey on foot with my sisters to Houston. Everyone can imagine the hardships they experienced on that journey. About 50 miles from Houston, they crossed the Brazos River, and there was only one dwelling on that entire route. The road led through a sandy plain without dwellings, even without water, and so they had to travel in the hot summer days, hungry and thirsty. So it's no wonder that my younger sister finally succumbed to these hardships and, fainting, could not go on. And they still had 14 miles to Houston.

At this critical moment, a man who lived near the road appeared, and seeing what was happening, offered help. He took the sick child to his house and promised that when she recovered, he would take her to Houston. What else could my mother do but entrust her sick child to a stranger and continue on her journey to the city to find a living? They didn't know English, only a word here and there, and so it was difficult for them even to look for work. However, they finally succeeded, and both my mother and sister got jobs for $8 a month, but each in a different house.

Now their hardships were over, but my mother was tormented by the thought of what had happened to her child, whom she had left sick with a stranger on the road. 14 days had passed since then, and my mother didn't know if her daughter was alive and well, or dead. Then one day, her mistress came into the kitchen to tell her that there was a crying girl on the street. My mother ran outside, and what was her joy when her lost daughter Anna fell into her arms.

Now my mother and both sisters were provided for in Houston, but things were worse for us at home. My father fell ill and took to his bed, so that I, a young boy, had to manage the entire household. Cooking, taking care of the house, serving my sick father and my three-year-old sister, and on top of all that, there was a lack of money.

There was no money to call a doctor, no medicine either, and even food was lacking, and there was no help from anywhere. Our nearest neighbor was Jan Karásek, and he was about 3 miles away from us. When he visited us once, he advised a certain medicine that we could supposedly get at Raimershofer's store. My father sent me there, but when I said that I wasn't carrying any money, he snapped at me not to come there for anything without money. I started to cry, saying that my father was seriously ill and couldn't go to earn money, which somehow softened Mr. Raimershofer enough that he gave me some powder. I hurried home happily, my father used it, but it didn't help him at all.

My father's illness was getting worse rather than better, he was very swollen and couldn't even turn in bed. I couldn't help him either, so I tied a rope to a beam, which my father used to pull himself up with his hands so he could turn. Food was running out, and there was no help from anywhere. Even our cattle and the horse, for which my father had paid $80, got lost. We learned that our neighbor Jan Karásek had borrowed it without our knowledge, but he never returned it. He excused himself by saying that it had died on the way to Houston, but when my father threatened him with a lawsuit, he later gave him $30 for it.

My father's illness lasted a full 9 weeks before he could finally get back on his feet. But it was high time, because there was nothing left to eat at home. With faltering steps, he left the house, even falling often on the way, but he had to go on to provide help for us. He dragged himself to work like this, while I stayed at home with my little sister. Days, even weeks passed, and we two managed the household alone, not even knowing what my mother and sisters were doing, while my father couldn't often come to see us from work because of the distance.

Oh, how much I cried there, remembering my mother, father, and sisters, being alone in that forest solitude with my little sister, who needed care. And similarly, my mother in Houston remembered us, not receiving any letters, she thought that we were no longer alive.

With such memories, my mother finally had the opportunity to look home. A certain carter was going to our region, which my mother learned about and decided to go with him. With the money she had saved, she bought groceries, a whole barrel of flour and other necessities, took her sisters with her, and so one fine day our deserted house was again filled with the joyful cries of the happy reunion of our whole family. The cotton harvest had already begun, so there was no shortage of work and earnings, and so our family stayed together. However, solitude was destined for me further, because while everyone else went to work, I had to stay at home with my little sister to take care of her and manage the household. People didn't go to the nearby area to pick cotton, but far away, so our family didn't come home until after a longer time, and I had to look after the household with my sister alone for whole weeks again.

My father realized that the land he had bought would never support us, and so he decided to leave it. He couldn't find a buyer for it, he had lost the cattle during his illness, there was no money for another, and so my parents decided to move to Houston, where my oldest sister was already married. Near the city, he bought three acres of land, and there we again settled under a tree, as there was no dwelling on it. These were again difficult beginnings, but the first railroad from Houston to Galveston was just beginning to be built, and there was plenty of work on it. There were no Czechs in Houston at that time, but during the construction of the railroad, my father met compatriots, and they subscribed to Slavie, which was the only newspaper known in Texas at that time.

During the construction of that railroad, my father saved money, so he bought a horse and a cart, with which he then earned even more. A lot of construction began in the city, even brick houses, so there was plenty of work and our circumstances gradually improved. I was also granted some schooling when I passed the age of ten. I went to a German-English school, and so I had the opportunity to learn both languages, which was very beneficial to me in later life.

At that time, our people began to move to Texas in greater numbers, and they all came through Houston. My father had the opportunity to meet with them and give them warnings and instructions so that they wouldn't be cheated like he was.

The city of Houston was visibly growing, as trade in it was greatly increasing. Farmers from as far as 200 miles away brought their cotton here, as there were no railroads yet, and they bought their necessities in the city. We moved there in 1858, and this prosperity prevailed there until the 1860s. Then, however, war clouds began to gather on the American horizon. Already in 1860, instead of peaceful work, the clang of weapons and the rumble of war drums could be heard. Uncertainty appeared on all sides, so trade and industry faltered. A general decline set in, so there was no more work or earnings. When the flames of this fratricidal war were unleashed, it was even worse, because trade was also stopped due to the blockade of ports, so even farmers couldn't sell their cotton. The only way to sell cotton was across the Mexican border, but the government supervised it.

During the Civil War, the state government helped itself as best it could. When there was no money, it confiscated whatever was suitable. Not only food and drink, but also cattle, horses, even cotton were confiscated for the benefit of the state. Since it was an exceptional time, no law was observed, but rather things were taken and confiscated as anyone pleased. Civil and military officials were not controlled in any way, and so everyone acted arbitrarily, taking whatever they liked, and there was no protection against violence anywhere. We immigrants were especially at the mercy of the Southern slaveholders, because they knew that we didn't agree with their pro-slavery views.

It wasn't enough that a general insecurity of property set in, but even human life wasn't safe in any way. Not only did the Southern slaveholders claim the right to their black people, but they owned every man to help them protect those slaves. Every man from 20 to 30 years old was initially declared a soldier, but later it became increasingly stricter. Finally, in the fourth year of the war, all men from 16 to 40 years old were to take up arms to maintain slavery. Whoever could, avoided military service by fleeing, because our people not only disagreed with the war, but also with its cause, slavery, and therefore they preferred to hide in the forests rather than fight for the Southern slaveholders.

My father was already too old and I was too young to be drafted into the army. However, I was quite developed for my age, so I was constantly in danger of being conscripted. For this purpose, I had the Austrian consul prepare a document in which my age was officially confirmed. My father and I set out on a journey to Mexico to escape the constant official harassment. However, when we came across the Colorado River and fell into the hands of the first military patrol, that document was taken from me and I was ordered to return to Houston. What else was there to do? And so I found myself back home, because our family still lived in Houston.

When there was no work, my father and I took up trade. We bought various goods in Houston and went with them to the farms, where we exchanged them for farm products: poultry, butter, eggs, etc. This is how we got to know our people and farmers of other nationalities in the wider area around Houston. Since I no longer felt safe enough in Houston, I took advantage of this acquaintance and went to the countryside. There I found many of our people who were hiding from the war like me. Like wild animals, we roamed the forests, and being exposed to all natural disasters, we had to travel at night and hide during the day. In rain and mud, across rivers and streams, we ran from place to place so as not to fall into the hands of those who were pursuing military deserters. So I finally caught pneumonia and returned home to Houston sick. When I recovered and ventured into the countryside again for the first time, I met those returning from the war, because the war was over. As you can imagine, everyone breathed a sigh of relief, even the slaveholders themselves, that this unfortunate war was over. It had brought them to ruin and they were deprived of their slaves, so they didn't know what to do. Those who had risked their lives for them were coming from the battlefield, and they were no less embittered. They had been forced into military uniforms against their will, so it's no wonder that they took revenge on those whom they considered the cause of their suffering. While during the war no one's property or life was safe who disagreed with the slaveholders, now after the war they were not safe from those whom they themselves had armed for their protection. The soldiers returning from the war were walking from distant battlefields, without means of subsistence, so it's no wonder that they made claims to everything they needed. And just as everything that was needed was confiscated during the war, now after the war the same people who had been forced by the state government to serve it, even against their will, were doing the same. Since complete anarchy had set in, it was not known whether those who carried out the confiscation were regular soldiers of the Southern army, or thieves and villains who had nothing to do with the war. Whether it was the property of the Confederate government or private citizens, everything was taken from those people without anyone daring to resist them. They took a revolver from me on the road, which I had at my waist, as was common practice back then.

This anarchy didn't last long, however, and days of peace soon returned. The slaveholders were selling their land, and very cheaply, which the immigrants mostly bought. Some had stored cotton, and it was now in demand after the war, for which 22 cents a pound was paid. My father and I continued our door-to-door trade, because it was also safer after the war. In the years 1866-67, more Moravians began to move here again, and since they almost all came through Houston, we rendered them many valuable services. My mother and youngest sister died in 1867, my father was also constantly ill, so everything rested only on me. In order to more easily fulfill my duties, I got married, taking Anna Mikesková, who had just arrived from the old country, as my wife.

In 1868, I left the trade, and since the Houston Central Railroad was just being built, several of us took a contract to build a section of that line. There were 17 of us compatriots who set up our own camp, which we called Šillers Camp. The work was well paid, but I didn't stay there long. I received a letter that my father was seriously ill and I returned to Houston, where soon after I laid my father to rest in the bosom of Mother Earth beside his wife, with whom he had experienced so much hardship.

Having nothing more to worry about than my wife and child, I decided to farm. Cotton was selling for 15 to 18 cents a pound, land was for sale cheaply everywhere, and so I first went to Veselí, where I had many acquaintances. There I only rented a farm, because the area was already densely populated and the land was expensive. We already founded a Reading Society there, there was also a Protestant church, and its pastor was Mr. Jos. Opočenský. However, I only stayed there until 1870, after which I set out with several neighbors to Burleson County, where I also bought 220 acres of land, for which I paid $2 per acre. More compatriots settled here with me, and so we formed the first Czech settlement in this county.

Our beginnings were, of course, difficult, because I wasn't used to such hard work. We had to build dwellings, make fences, turn over new land, which required strong muscles. On top of everything, our first year's harvest wasn't very good due to drought and poor cultivation. The nearest town was Bryan, because Caldwell then had only two stores, a blacksmith shop, a cotton gin, and a few houses. Besides me, no one from our community knew English at that time, and so I had to act as an interpreter on every occasion. More and more of our people came here, and I was called upon to interpret not only for them, but also for Americans who couldn't communicate with our people. It was precisely the Americans who caused me the most trouble, because they kept coming to ask about everything, and when I explained it to them as best I could, they started all over again. They couldn't remember Czech names and said they all sounded the same to them.

So after a few years, I made many acquaintances, sold the farm, and started a country store. This gave rise to the Czech settlement of Nový Tábor, where our people also built their first school. I didn't have enough money for the store, but I was supported by Americans who helped me with money without promissory notes. Mr. Gabriel Jackson lent me $400 without any promissory note, and others smaller amounts, so I managed to keep the store going. Our compatriots were beginners then, they needed a lot of credit, and on top of that, one harvest was damaged by locusts. But despite all that, I managed to stay in business, and when the railroad to Caldwell was built in 1879, I moved the store to town.

Since then, I've exchanged the store for the plow several times and returned to the store, until finally my advanced age put an end to further attempts. Now I live in a kind of retirement, and to keep myself busy, I buy cotton. It so happened that no one ran for the state legislature, and so it was offered to me. I accepted it and was also elected on the Democratic ticket to represent the citizens of Burleson County in the 32nd Legislature. I went through a tough school of life in this country, tried various directions of human activity, and so I know what life is and what it requires. I will use my life experience in the legislature as best I can for the good of the people who sent me there - whether I will meet with good results or not, time will tell.

I wrote this account of Kraiča's in January, before he went to Austin to serve as a legislator, and I didn't expect that we would not meet again. He wrote to me in Chicago, when he returned from the legislative session, that he had arrived ill, and in May I received the news that he had completed his life's journey. He died in Caldwell, Texas, on May 28, 1911, so he didn't even complete his term as a legislator. Honor to his memory, and may this biography serve as a lesson to many.

Josef Bunata.