Old-Time Storekeeper -- Civilization's Advance Scout
By Clara V. O'Brien

Article in Frontier Times Magazine, September 1970

Without those little supply centers the country could not have progressed past the wilderness stage; and the men who ran them constituted the only human link between the edge of settlement and a life left far behind...

Author's Note: One of the most neglected aspects of early life in the West was the development of little crossroads stores and their impact on the settlers, farmers, and ranchers living a great distance from frontier towns and cities. Because of these little stores and their multiplicity of services, life in the far reaches of the Western plains was bearable.
The small community stores became the focal point of the area's social and business life. Their owners were often loved and honored as much as the circuit-riding minister or the country doctor. Often these store owners mediated in neighborhood disputes, advanced credit in hard times, offered advice, and helped out in many other ways when trouble arose. Thomas McGuill was one of these.

Untangling his weary legs from the saddle, Thomas McGuill slid to the hot sandy ground. Then he winced as he lifted the three bulky, heavy packs from his brush pony and placed them carefully near the roots of a gnarled post oak. Relieved of the load, the pony trotted down to the Blanco Creek bottom where a pool of fresh water beckoned. McGuill followed.

Thomas dipped a red neckerchief into the pool and wiped his sweaty, sunburned face and neck. Then he led his lathered pony back to the shade of the live oak and unsaddled him before stretching out on the dry grass. With his head in a crook of the oak's trunk, the man's gaze strayed down the cow path which seemed to wind endlessly through the sweltering Texas prairie, and to the fleecy puffs of drifting white gulf clouds dappling the sky.

"Must be nigh onto three o'clock," McGuill mused as he looked toward the sun, too weary to pull his heavy watch from his pocket. The soft call of a Mexican dove heightened his loneliness for his wife Mary. He had left her and the two children in Ireland two years before when he'd decided to come to Texas.

"Sure's Ireland's my homeland, Mary's not going to like this land of nothing but dry grass, live oaks, post oaks, black jacks, wild horses, howling coyotes, and Indians," he mused. His faith in his project was wavering.

McGuill's mind wandered as he rested and brooded about the future. He watched a roadrunner skittering down the trail -- ugly little devil. Roadrunner -- that's what he'd become! Running the roads, wading the creeks -- all of them which happened to criss-cross this Dark Corner. To Old St. Marys for his merchandise, then to every log cabin and small farm house to sell pots, pans, sugar, tea, coffee, ribbons, laces, dress material-to-order, shoes-to-order, thread, needles, pins, whatever he could sell. He had to find a better way.

The tangled destiny which had led him to this point had started when his uncle, William McGuill, and William Redmond had come to Texas with empresarios Powers and Hewitson. They were granted a half league and a labor of land by the Mexican government which had welcomed the Irish immigrants. When Uncle William had died here in Texas, he had left his share of the Mexican grant to Thomas and other heirs in Ireland. Thomas McGuill had bought out the others, come to Texas and also bought the Redmond part of the grant from a Mr. Daley, who had previously acquired it from Redmond. McGuill then bought another fifty-acre tract from Tom Fox on Dog Branch because on it was a log cabin where he could bring Mary until he could build a proper home for her right here in the bend of the Blanco.

Stretching his legs, Tom got up to explore the building site. It was a good spot for a home, the store he wanted, and even for the church he hoped to build. Mary must have a church close by. When he went back to Refugio next week, he planned to see the mission priests about holding services in his and Mary's cabin at least once a month after Mary arrived. He'd think about a school later. He needed a lot more money.

There was plenty of land for him to run cattle. Many settlers made a living from cattle even during the droughts which plagued Texas. If the cows died, their hides were saleable.

Heartened by his survey and his plans, Tom resaddled his poney and trudged on in the heat. He would go by Henderson Williams' place tonight. Mrs. Williams might be ready for some calico and cambric for her pretty girls. They always wanted pretty sunbonnets in the summertime. Also, he had a pair of shoes for Sam, the oldest Williams boy. He might buy that extra wagon Williams had. Thomas needed a wagon and another horse. His load was too much for this brush pony.

So it was that Thomas McGuill, born in Wexford, Ireland in 1824, married to pretty Mary O'Reilly in the late forties, had come to Texas in 1853 to claim his uncle's property. Now it was 1855, and he could send for his family.

In a little over a year, Mary and the children joined Thomas. At first they lived in the log cabin on Dog Branch (now called Alligator Creek). After Mary was settled, she insisted that Tom take the cabin lean-to for his merchandise. She was eager for him to stop traveling around.

In this log cabin, October 17, 1858, the McGuills' third child, Martin, was born. The Refugio Mission began sending a priest once each month to conduct services in Thomas' home, and the McGuills established a custom of inviting their Catholic neighbors to participate in the services.

Thomas McGuill's dreams for a proper house for his wife, a store, and a church were partially realized about 1863 when the family moved from Dog Branch into a new home on the bend in the Blanco. Adjoining the living quarters, Thomas built a log store. Later, he donated an acre of land to the Catholic Diocese and with his own hands and money built a log church and its furnishings. It was called "Our Lady of the Rosary."

Soon after the Civil War struck, all Texas ports were blockaded. Freight wagons from San Antonio to Beeville were few and far between, and even then they brought little merchandise. Old St. Marys on Copano Bay was completely cut off from the sea. These were hard times for everyone, but especially for Thomas' little store and for the settlers in Dark Corner.

A colorful character named Sally Scull came along with some help. She and her brother, William Rabb Newman, ran their wagon trains of freight in and out of Mexico, carrying cotton and other products south and bringing back ammunition for the Confederacy and a few supplies for her neighbors. Sally Scull was a rather notorious woman, but the early settlers were saved many privations by the ingenuity and courage of this woman who owned a ranch in Dark Corner close to Thomas McGuill land. At the intersections of the Beeville-Goliad-Refugio roads, there now stands an historical marker for Sally Scull -- a courageous, if profane, woman. In many respects she was at least a hundred years ahead of her time.

Thomas McGuill turned the running of his store over to his family and became a tailor for the Confederacy, serving in that capacity for the duration of the war. Mary and the children tended to the business as best they could while Thomas was away.

Nights were the loneliest times on the prairie. The coyotes' mournful howl and the damage they did to the fowls and sheep caused Mary many hours of distress. She also feared the Indians even though the frequency of their raids had lessened. One day a customer came to the store from across the Blanco with the news that young Sam Williams had had a run-in with the Indians the day before.

"He had his corn bags on his saddle on his way to the grist mill, when he saw some Injuns coming," the man reported. "Well, young Sam's a smart one. He lit out to the nearest mott where there's a thicket of tall grass, and trees. Jumping off his horse, Sam rapped him with the reins. The horse lit out for home on the run. Sam ran into that thicket, then out on 'tother side and lit out for Needy Creek fast as he could crawl through the grass. Them Injuns beat a path round and round that thicket tryin' to flush Sam out. They never found him, and the horse got clean away. Then when the Injuns left, Sam started down the creek bed toward home. The horse got home way ahead of him. The horse had run so fast every seed o' that corn was shelled clean off the cobs in the saddle bags. Sam's old man (Henderson Williams) was sure the Injuns had caught his son. But Sam showed up sometime after dark." Tales like this frightened Mary, but she stayed on at the store.

After the war was over, Tom resumed his duties as storekeeper. He also concentrated on farming and raising cattle. Martin was growing up and taking an active interest in the store; he was good with the customers and handled money well. In the early seventies when goods were more plentiful, Thomas made Martin a partner.

They still hauled some merchandise from Old St. Marys, but Beeville, twenty miles away, offered better service after the train came from San Antonio. Tom had several horses and a good wagon. For many years, Albert Williams, youngest son of Henderson, hauled freight from Beeville for the McGuills.

Since there were no banks in the area, men with money had to keep it hidden wherever they could. Late one hot June day in 1874, Thomas McGuill and his sons were resting on the store's front porch. Across the trail in Tom's pasture, a group of men rode rapidly toward them. When Thomas walked out in greeting, the posse told the McGuills this story of horror:

"There's been a murder on the Thad Swift ranch, and the Mexican ranch hands are missing, even his most trusted one who's worked for him for years. Thad and his missus are killed. Yesterday Thad took his crop of wool to market. His brother Frank says the wool was worth $700, but he knows Thad left the money in Refugio for safekeeping. Yet last night Mexicans dragged Thad and his wife out into the yard and slaughtered them. Mrs. Swift was pregnant, and those scoundrels disemboweled her and cut the child from her body.

"Searching for the money, the thieves had cut the mattress into shreds and had ransacked the place except for the lean-to off the kitchen where the three Swift children were sleeping. The children had heard nothing, but found their parents' bodies when they woke this morning. Those younguns - only about ten, eight, and four - walked six miles to their uncle Frank Swift's place with the news. The littlest one was holding onto her doll, crying her little blonde head off.

"Frank rode fast to his brother's place and found the horrible sight with buzzards already circling about. He got hold of the law. Then Captains Scott and Fennessey rounded us up. There's going to be the biggest manhunt this country's ever had."

Groups of men were sent to all ranches and farm houses to question any Mexican suspects. Ranchers and neighbors scoured the countryside for the Thad Swift employees, or any other suspicious characters. They surrounded the home of one Mexican family who had barricaded themselves in their house. At least two members of the posse were killed. Further inflamed, the searchers began to hang suspected Mexican laborers. Thad's trusted Mexican ranch hand had fled to Mexico. A posse went in search of him, found him, and brought him back. He confessed and was hanged. Before his capture, three other Mexican suspects had been hanged, and it is said at least two others were hanged in the Goliad County courthouse yard. No doubt more than one person committed the crime, but the sad sequel to the Swift tragedy is that no one knows how many innocent Mexicans lost their lives.

After this catastrophe local citizens were more careful that their hired help knew any money was safely stored off the premises. The tragedy influenced Thomas McGuill to buy a safe and to assume something of the role of banker in the community. Settlers knew and trusted Tom; he knew and trusted them.

Then came the day that competition reared its head across the Blanco in Bee County. As early as the 1850s, Hugh May had established a grist mill there. The Coffin brothers of Refugio maintained a store there in the '70s and '80s. In addition, the Coleman-Paster Company had a commissary on the present site of Blanconia in the early '80s. As business grew on the Bee County side of the Blanco, Thomas and Martin decided they'd better move their store across the creek and went looking about for a likely place. Shade trees and plenty of space for buggies, wagons, and horsebackers were essential. None of these conveyances would stand crowding. The McGuills ended up buying Coleman-Pasture Company with three acres of surrounding ground. They added a front porch which had become the McGuill Store symbol.

In the early '80s Martin fell in love with Margaret Weir from the nearby Quincy settlement. On part of the three acres of the newly purchased ground, he built a home for Margaret and they were married. This house, although in a state of decay, is standing today, a landmark in the ghost settlement of Old Blanconia.

After the disastrous 1886 storm, Thomas and Martin went to Refugio and bought the George P. Rogers' cotton gin, moving it to their new Blanconia location. It was a one-stand outfit, operated by mule power. The McGuills also acquired a grist mill and a blacksmith shop. The store carried ample lines of leather goods and harness, boots and shoes, shelves of yard goods, laces, ribbons, and sewing supplies, barrels of sugar, flour, and molasses. They bought cotton from the farmers, ginned and resold it. The "worthless" cotton seeds were carried away and burned, since at that time no use for them had been found.

After thirty years or more of operation, the store had become known throughout South Texas. It was a popular trading center with quality merchandise. When Thomas McGuill died on August 14, 1897, he had more than $2,000 on loan. The Goliad County Probate records show that 109 people (some names were repeated) owed Thomas money. The smallest debt on record was for $1.25, while the largest was for $165.00. A comment of the probate judge was, "These debts cannot be counted as assets since there's no way to collect them."

After his father's death, Martin continued to lend money and to give credit. Occasionally, a thief entered into the picture also. One incident which caused amusement and some consternation among the settlers after Martin took over the store is told by an old-timer.

"Someone went to the store early one morning to buy sugar. Martin opened the barrel only to find it empty with a hole bored clear through the bottom of the barrel and the floor. Outside, sugar was strewn all round. Then the trail ended where a buggy had taken off. No doubt Martin had a good idea who'd taken his sugar but he never brought charges."

A more astute businessman than his father, Martin McGuill had his fingers in all the proverbial pies. When the first telephone line was put through from Beeville to Blanconia between 1888 and 1889, it ended at the McGuill store, and Martin was made manager of the company.

Martin also served as postmaster for several years with the post office in his store. While he was postmaster, he began a search for a suitable name for this community which had been called alternately Pull-tight, Kymo, and Dark Corner. The first post office was called Upper Medio. One day, visiting with friends in the store, Martin idly scratched "Blanco" on a shingle - then added "nia." Thus, the little community that had been given so many names now permanently became Blanconia.

Banker, storekeeper, telephone manager, postmaster, cotton ginner, meat and corn grinder, and blacksmith should have been enough jobs for Martin but he was much more. When someone was ill or had died, Martin was there to help. Even after Dr. J. J. Adkins came to Blanconia in 1890 to establish his practice, Martin continued helping with the sick and troubled. He also served as undertaker.

He was referred to as the peacemaker because men of the community often brought their differences to him for impartial settlement. Martin also, as did all of Thomas McGuill's children, took great pride in the church his father built. When the congregation finally outgrew the second church built by Thomas, it was torn down and a new church called St. Catherine's was built on the Bee County side of the Blanco in 1926. This lovely building still serves the Catholic congregation of the area. All that is left of the churches Thomas built are the statue of Our Lady of the Rosary and the Stations of the Cross.

The second McGuill store burned in 1920. Martin then acquired land across the road and built another. When the third store was built, Martin added gasoline. Today the old gasoline pump is all that remains of the McGuill Store - a relic of early automobile days.

Across the Blanco on the Goliad County site of the early McGuill settlement, only the Catholic cemetery remains. In 1890 Thomas donated one-half acre of land for the cemetery. He was the first to be buried on it.

Martin's wife, Margaret, died in 1915. With the help of his children, Martin continued to operate the store until his death in 1937. After that the sons and daughters carried on until during World War II. Thus one family served this South Texas area for ninety years, through three generations.

In the early 1950s, the third McGuill Store was purchased and torn down. So the pot-belied stove around which the old-timers spun their yarns is gone. Shelves of dress materials and groceries are gone, as are the barrels of molasses, sugar, and flour and the buckets of peppermint and mixed candies. Only the old gasoline pump, two old churches, and a few homes remain.