Visions of Old Austin
3 years after the battle of the Alamo (damn near to the day) and the signing of the Texas Declaration of Independence, in February of 1839, a small smattering of log cabins by the name of Waterloo was selected as the capital of the newly independent Republic of Texas. Named after “The Father of Texas”, Stephen F. Austin, this minuscule frontier settlement was selected (despite a precarious position on the very edge of civilization) for it’s abundant wildlife, water, timberlands, and natural beauty. Later that year, at least 39 toasts were raised shortly after the newly appointed government arrived from points east along old Pecan (now 6th) street. Interestingly, of the very first businesses were an alternative news press and music hall.
3 years later, President Sam Houston, ordered the Texas Archives be relocated to Houston for fear of their capture by enemy forces. Despite numerous raids by several different hostile tribes, and the repeated invasions of the Mexican military, Austinites refused those orders and formed a safety committee.
Under the cover of darkness in the early morning hours of December 30, 1842, 22 Texas Rangers attempted to steal the archives undetected, but were thwarted by a wild cannon shot by a certain Misses Angelina Eberly. Alerted by the commotion, vigilantes quickly gave chase and routed the Rangers on the banks of the dearly beloved Brushy Creek. Victorious, the staunchly independent citizenry threw raucous New Year’s celebrations over the coming days, and in doing so, forever galvanized a bold new identity and fiercely loyal attachment to the land.
And in the ensuing years, as Anglo settlement continued, the frontier was forced to move along seemingly on the backs of a steadily diminishing great American buffalo herd. As a result of countless horrific acts such as the Cherokee War, Council House Fight, and the Great Raid, a concerted process of extermination, which began earlier with the Karankawa of the coastal plains, continued against the local Comanche and their allies: the Kiowa, Kiowa Apache, Tawakoni, Waco, and Wichita. Widespread paranoia and the indiscriminate killing of any and all indigenous American Indian people, regardless of their political alliances and even within designated reservations within Texas, eventually led to the forced removal of the Tonkawa, Caddo and the neutral and already displaced Texas Cherokee, Delaware, Kickapoo, and Shawnee, among others.
Deep hatred towards anyone sympathetic to the plight of the indigenous Americans often led to murder, as in the case of Indian agent Robert Neighbors, who was shot in the back, on business from Indian Territory, while talking to a settler, by a total stranger named Edward Cornett on September 14th of 1859. The murderer was not alone in his vehement hatred of Neighbors for dutifully carrying out the law to protect the American Indians. Concerned for the safety of those in his charge, he had successfully escorted them north to Indian Territory the month prior…after publicly shaming and politically forcing federal troops to assist in the effort.
On February 1, 1861, only 15+ years after admittance into the Union, Texas declared it’s secession and later admittance into the Confederate States of America. Governor Sam Houston refused to take an oath of allegiance to the Confederacy and was deposed from office.
Texans fought in every major engagement throughout the war and contributed over 70,000 men (and boys). Under the “20 Negro Law” those who owned 20 or more slaves were exempt from Confederate conscription. Draft resistance, widespread among the German and Mexican communities, led to mass exodus. Those unfortunates who were hunted down and found were either shot or forced into service.
“They raise the yell and fire. It is like a scythe running through our line.” recalls Union Major Dawes of the “always favorite” shock troops of General Robert E. Lee’s Texas Brigade, remarking that none had brought greater honor to their native state than "my Texans."
The final battle of the Civil War, waged at Palmito Ranch near Brownsville, was a Confederate victory. Following surrender, Texas descended into anarchy for months. Amidst a period of heightened violence (even by Texan standards) General Gordon Granger announced the Emancipation Proclamation at Galveston, nearly two years after the original proclamation - an event commemorated to this day as Juneteenth. By 1870 elected Texas representatives were allowed back into their Federal offices, despite not meeting Reconstruction requirements.
Fast forward nearly a hundred years…beyond the growing pains of Reconstruction and the brief, overly-romanticized days of the great Texas cattle drives…beyond the deadliest natural disaster in U.S. history, and the great Texas oil boom…the enactment of the poll tax, the Great Depression, the Dust Bowl, and the Great Migration of African-Americans away from southern lynch mobs northward in search of social reprieve…and from the very core of the center of the city of Austin, literally, sprung forth a very curious triumvirate of old shirtless men who one might consider particularly, and very fittingly, weird.
These three Renaissance men might not be as recognizable now as other later Austin icons such as Stevie Ray Vaughan, Willie Nelson, or the “Queen of Austin” Leslie Cochran, but such is the cruel nature of history; which can conceal the real treasures of this world, while, as so often happens, simultaneously preserving the essence of these treasure’s contributions to society behind the closed curtain of social amnesia.
It was here among the sacred healing waters of Barton Springs, in the heart of the city of Austin in the 1940’s and 50’s, that the clearest and purest vision of Old Austin materialized from atop old Philosopher’s Rock: a naturalist, a folklorist, and a historian.
Texan incarnations of the Muses of ancient Greece, they formed the center of what contemporaries considered the Salon of the West. Carrying the torch those goddesses of literature, science, and the arts first set ablaze at the dawn of Western civilization, they too were a source of knowledge embodied in later works of poetry, song, and myth.
According to the inscription their monument bears: “It was here, on hot summer days, that the naturalist Roy Bedichek and the chronicler and folklorist J. Frank Dobie sat in the sun and talked for hours about everything from classic works of literature to tall tales of lost Spanish treasure. Their great friend, the historian Walter Prescott Webb, was not a swimmer, but he would often join the talk. These three - Dobie, Bedichek, and Webb - strove to create a vibrant and distinctive intellectual climate in Texas, and their influence reached far beyond the state.”
J. Frank Dobie, the folklorist of the bunch, perhaps best embodies this vision of old…and the heart and soul of this project. His writings and newspaper columns famously captured the magic and mystery of the days of the Texas open range. As quoted directly from his short Wikipedia article: