Rebecca Jane Gilleland was seven when Comanches swooped down on her family, killed both parents, and took as captives Rebecca and her six-year-old brother William. Born in Philadelphia in 1831, Rebecca had settled with her family near present Refugio about 1837. When Rebecca recounted her experiences to the Galveston Daily News in 1913, she said it was late afternoon when the Comanches surprised the family as they walked not far from their home. Rebecca remembered that as the Indians bore down on them, her mother grabbed their arms and prayed loudly that they would be saved when they “were baptized in her blood.” Rebecca’s father was struck down as he ran to the house for his gun.
The chief’s wife scooped Rebecca onto her horse and at first threatened to cut off their hands and feet if she and William didn’t stop crying. However, Rebecca believed the woman kept the other Indians from harming her and soon began to stroke Rebecca’s blonde hair.
The following morning, they had stopped to rest when a company of Texas Rangers led by Albert Sidney Johnston surprised the Indians. In the hand-to-hand combat, William’s body was pierced with a lance and Rebecca took a sharp blow to her temple. The Rangers chased after the Indians, leaving the terrified children behind. Rebecca said William roused from unconsciousness as she carried him to hide in the nearby brush. It was only after the Rangers returned, and Rebecca heard them calling her name that she and William emerged from their hiding place.
After being raised by an aunt in Galveston, Rebecca attended Rutersville, a Methodist school between La Grange and Round Top. In 1848, she married Orceneth Fisher, a minister almost thirty years her senior, who was an editor of the Texas Wesleyan Banner.

Rebecca and Dr. Fisher served several churches before eventually settling in Oregon where he organized the Methodist Episcopal Church South. On the eve of the Civil War, a mob of 300 stormed a camp meeting and threatened to hang Dr. Fisher, apparently for his perceived southern sympathies. Rebecca said of the experience that she “grabbed the leader by the collar and held him fast. He looked into my eyes and turned away without speaking. I will never forget the vicious expression of his countenance.” She also claimed that her husband quieted the mob with his calm demeanor and assurances that he came with a message of peace and love. During those tumultuous years, while the Fishers raised their six children and expanded the work of Methodism, Rebecca became know as the “woman who quelled the mob.”
The Fishers returned to Texas in 1870 and settled in Austin where Dr. Fisher served two terms as chaplain for the Texas legislature before his death in 1880. Rebecca’s brother William was a highly regarded poet whose work appeared in numerous magazines and newspapers before his death in 1894.

Rebecca Fisher was the only woman elected to the Texas Veterans Association. After its members, who had served from the time of the Texas Revolution, all passed away, the work of the organization was taken over by the Daughters of the Republic of Texas (DRT) of which Rebecca Fisher was a charter member. She worked with Clara Driscoll and others to save the Alamo from destruction, and for several years she offered the opening prayer for the Texas legislature. Her portrait was the first of a woman to be hung in the Senate chamber at the Texas capitol. At her death in 1926 at the age of ninety-four, the body of the woman known by many as “the Mother of Texas” lay in state in the Senate chamber, the locale of her funeral service.
You just keep on finding interesting characters and events no one has ever heard of. Thanks, Myra.
Thanks, David. It’s great to find someone who enjoys these tales that I love to tell.
Who would’ve thought? Life has a lot of twists and turns doesn’t it?
Sure does, Barb. Makes for interesting living and reading.
It’s always amazing how people can survive and thrive after seeing or being a part of the most horrendous acts of violence. Thanks for highlighting her life.
Yes, makes you wonder how they can move on. Thanks, Kate, for continue to read these Texas stories.
I enjoy your history lessons. They come in small bites and are written in a very interesting way.