Herbert Bolton, the “Palermo Stone,” and Two Cruel Pranks of History

In 1936, a story began to unfold in academia which tipped an avalanche of negative effects for decades. A fellow found a small, inscribed brass plaque on the side of the road in the San Francisco Bay area, not far from San Quentin Prison. It was not long before he was encouraged to show it to a California historian who might interpret its significance. The thing was taken to UC Berkeley, where the venerable Professor Herbert Bolton held court, and he and another historian ended up purchasing the plaque for $3,500.00... in 1936 dollars, which would translate into much more money today. Given that this was during the height of the Great Depression, and money was scarce and there were great tragedies unfolding all over the world, it is even more amazing, and suggestive of the importance these two men attached to this newfound artifact, which they believed was going to re-write North American history. *************************************************************************************************************** As news of the find emerged, several people claimed to have seen it in the same vicinity, and after looking at it they had tossed it into the weeds as a piece of junk... Finally it been scooped up by the last “finder,” who put it on its amazing trajectory. With such dubious origins, Bolton and his associate desired to authenticate and justify their artifact, and to silence skepticism, and so they had a metallurgist examine the plaque. Afterwards they proudly claimed unequivocally that the plaque had been left on the California shores by Sir Francis Drake, as a land claim for his King.

This was the favorite legend often kicked around in California historical circles, that California had actually been originally claimed by the English, and not the Spanish. And Bolton was one of the leaders of this “school.” Now he had the proof. The words scrawled on the brass turned Bolton's theory into historical fact and became his lasting legacy. *************************************************************************************************************** Soon the plaque was proudly displayed at the Golden Gate International Exposition. Copies were made of it and sent to the First Lady, and to Queen Elizabeth II. *************************************************************************************************************** This was all very exciting, until more information trickled out over the next few years. Herbert Bolton belonged to a bizarre club of academics, who prided themselves in hilarity and historical ironies. They were known to fund and place historical plaques wherever there was some irony to celebrate. In their heyday they placed a plaque in commemoration of where the Spanish priests, coming to Christianize the natives, signaled the establishment of their ministry with the sounding of... cannons. They placed the first “permanent” monument, a historical marker on a... ship, where it could conceivably float anywhere.

This was a powerful collection of historical geniuses, with a hysterical, even impish strain, and possessing a pool of knowledge and talent which could have convinced any museum anywhere of almost anything- within reason. And especially something that someone already wanted to believe.

Almost forty years later it all finally came out, when surviving members of “E Clampus Vitus” more or less confessed that the whole thing had been conceived as a joke among themselves, to heckle one of their most esteemed members, and that the joke got way out of their hands and had, well... terrible, unexpected consequences. E Clampus jokesters ducked out somehow and avoided much bad publicity for the trouble they had caused. ***************************************************************************************************************** The scandal and all of the uncertainty it inspired had dogged Bolton for the rest of his life, and strongly threw all of his scholarship into question. One of the perpetrators had committed suicide. The organization had to somehow repair its respectability, so they light-heartedly went on as if the scandal, barely ever documented then or now, was merely a sad chain of events, which had become like most of history; blotted with regrettable instances of man's inhumanity to man.

This brings us to the “Palermo Stone.” ( Sorry about the stitched-together photo, it had been printed across two pages in a newspaper magazine) Outside of a few scholars, few persons would have recognized history repeating itself, when the scarred chunk of sandstone, marked with the word “LSall” and the number 14 was reportedly found during highway construction in Brazos County. A fellow named Luke Palermo had found what appeared to be a crudely inscribed boulder, which may have been related to the French discoverer and explorer of the Brazos Valley, Ren`e-Robert Cavelier Sieur de la Salle. In fact he was believed to have been murdered by his own men, just across the river, somewhere near the crossing of the old La Bahia Trail and the fork of the Brazos and Navasota rivers.

And who might have researched and published this theory? That's right, Herbert Bolton. Bolton had literally marched the terrain between Matagorda and Navasota, and matched landmarks along the way as they would have been mentioned by those who left journals. (And yes, there were several, and in French) It was his scholarship pointing to modern-day Navasota as where La Salle must have met his premature death, and his published theories which inspired the Daughters of the American Revolution to commission the bronze sculpture of La Salle, which was prominently placed in Navasota in the middle of Washington Avenue, in time for the Texas Centennial in 1936.

It took years for the secrets of E Clampus Vitus to come out, but there was a clandestine network of scholars who knew since the 1930's about Bolton's problems and thus had to be wary of any artifacts related to his research. It seems that, while Bolton was doggedly out in the field documenting and pontificating, there were funny guys back in California devoted to popping his prolific history balloons. And there was no better way to accomplish that than placing counterfeit artifacts at his every turn, for him to embrace and publicize- and then be shocked and defrocked as they proved to be hoaxes. And as with most of their monuments, irony played a role in their conception... ****************************************************************************************************************** The original Palermo stone was associated with the Fifth Dynasty of Ancient Egypt, circa about 2300 B.C., a stone which contained inscriptions which had been maliciously chiseled off of Egyptian steles and lost for thousands of years. It could have been just a coincidence, but more probably this Brazos Valley “find” by a Palermo might have been considered a hilarious spoof, designed to tease Bolton with his very own “Palermo stone.” It was probably immediately recognized as absurd, even to him, and might well have rattled his confidence about his controversial brass plate, the Holy Grail of his career. The Clampus Vitus had been trying to subtley clue him that they had planted the Drake Plate, but to no avail. Surely his friends would never do such a costly and embarrassing thing to him... So when the “Palermo stone” appeared in 1940 in Bryan, Texas, it was treated with inexplicable, almost institutional skepticism. Mr. Palermo took it to Texas A&M, and later to Houston scholars, and received some press coverage, and then the find died. Luckily, nobody with credentials would or could dare believe it, possibly remembering what embarrassing results evolved out of Drake's Plate.

Palermo genuinely tried to establish the stone's provenance and authenticity, and give it its due place in history, as he believed that it deserved. And this suggests that he was somehow led to the discovery, an innocent stooge, probably directed by someone connected to E Clampus Vitus. The eccentric fraternity had very cleverly concealed their association with Drake's Plate, so that the finders were never aware that the artifact had been placed where it might be “discovered.” The main difference in the Texas scenario was there was no passionate professor/collector like Herbert Bolton in Texas to sell it to. And thank goodness.

If the stone was for real, its timing, its association with a Bolton theory, and its almost unintelligible message, condemned it to obscurity. Disgusted with the whole mystery, Palermo loaned the stone to a local museum. It was last seen, gathering dust in the boneyard at the Brazos Museum... and then by 1990's, nobody knew its whereabouts. ************************************************************************************************************** Recently, Betty Dunn of Two Rivers Heritage Foundation in Navasota met someone who said they knew exactly where the discarded relic resided. It was in a barn in north Grimes County. And for such a precious artifact of Brazos Valley to end up there... it was unconscionable! Soon Mrs. Dunn had it and was studying it at her home. That was when the inconsistencies of the latest epiphany of a Brazos Palermo Stone began to puzzle its beholders.

It was more like a facsimile of the one photographed by newspapers in the 1930's. Marks and arrows were missing... important ones, and others had appeared, and spacing between the letters was not exact. This suggested that there had been two La Salle stones made by someone, which had ended up lost to history. Had Palermo made a copy for easy transport as he showed it around Bryan and Houston? Considered by him to be very valuable, and with the original stone quite cumbersome, a more portable copy of the artifact would have made perfect sense. If so, was this the copy? *************************************************************************************************************** OR, and this would be the suggestion by scholars, several spurious “Palermo Stones” might have been produced until the history gremlins were satisfied they had a believable forgery which might pass routine, non-academic inspection. The idea was not to change history, but to temporarily excite Herbert Bolton and harmlessly remind everyone that real historic finds were rare, and for people not to trust anything. Perhaps a local artisan had been commissioned to fashion it, and the road construction created the perfect event to unveil it, an historic landmark waiting near the Brazos River after centuries. Of course, the impish Clampus elites never worried much about the temporary damage done to local history. They would plant a forgery somewhere where it could easily be found, and then after some fun, one of their people would no doubt be the very person who would call it a forgery. No harm done... And that should have been the end of it. ******************************************************************************************************************* It would have been, if local historians like Pamela Puryear, and Russell Cushman, and Betty Dunn, had not cherished the thought of the rumored find, and wondered about it for many years. When Dunn finally located the stone, or at least one of them, it was a rock-my-world moment for myself and several history buffs. As I have studied and thought about it, its significance might have been changed, but not the depth of the story behind it. ***************************************************************************************************************** Eventually, the so-called Drake's Plate was deaccessioned and sold by the Berkeley archive, and this was a mindless and unnecessary purging. The plaque was actually quite significant, even if its importance had changed. Much like the removed fragments of Egyptian steles such as the Palermo stone, which had been "erased" thousands of years ago to destroy former legacies and simultaneously elevate the status of later pharaohs, the remnants of academic predecessors keep coming to the surface. It would have been much more useful to history for the brass forgery to have remained, and to be displayed, as a relic of professional ruthlessness and cupidity. ********************************************************************************************************************** Likewise, the Brazos “Palermo Stone” is important. It is, in itself quite historical, since Bolton's research has stood the test of time, even if a certain purchased artifact in his collection has not; Because it may well illustrate the degree old cronies of Herbert Bolton, perhaps out of professional jealousy, would go to discredit and humiliate him. And that it is probably the resounding theme of most conflicts throughout history.

The Blind Hog Strikes!

Good News, Ranger badge seekers. I finally proved to myself that a person could walk into a Texas antique mall and still find a genuine ranger badge in the showcase- staring up with no one to love it... and priced as if it was a cheap toy.

I found this authentic oreite badge half an hour from my residence in Bell County. It had been messed with, as the finding appears to have been broken off and somebody prepared the back for soldering. Thankfully, they chickened out, probably because they were afraid the badge might melt while attaching the new pin... so it has some shiny buff marks on the back, but for less than $50.00, I did not ask them any questions.

I recognized the design in this old relic, as there was a die sold at one of the Burley Auctions in New Braunfels years ago which was almost identical. Artist Donald Yena was liquidating his awesome Texas Ranger collection, which included dozens of authentic, historic ranger badges. It was the Ranger collector event of the century. There were several Simmang artifacts sold, including some clamps, sample badges and a die used to make ranger badges in the 1920's and '30's.

The design was common then, first made popular in the late Nineteenth Century, when lawmen desired to get past the negative associations of the “tin star,” when many outlaws and disreputable gunmen were hired to “keep the peace.” The new modern, official-looking design was made with hundreds of variations, but basically formed a round shield, sometimes with a star in the center, and mounted by an American eagle with her wings spread. The “spread eagle” mounting a Union shield was a popular motif going back to the Civil War, and suggested a new, united, better America, where law & order could and would prevail. By the 1920's, the design was used for many government badges, including those sported by the IRS and other “Prohibition” men.

It would be years before the Texas Rangers would distribute an official badge to rangers. Each ranger had to order his own, creating the wonderful variations you see in this website. That was why the poor Mexican Peso got so abused during that time, being a cheap silver substrate for a jeweler to use to carve a custom lawman's badge. But some more style-conscious rangers could order a badge from a catalog, and in a few months receive a brassy, “oreite” badge, pressed by machine and beautifully sculpted into a classic lawman's shield, like this one. Many Rangers had similar, miniature badges pressed by the same manufacturers to pin inside their wallets. The truth was, Rangers preferred not to wear a badge which could be easily observed. In fact they hated badges and uniforms as well. Badges were targets for the lawless in those wild days on the border. The element of surprise was about the only advantage a ranger had, and badges were a “dead give-away.”

Charles Simmang of San Antonio was an official Texas Ranger badge maker, and produced different designs over the years, including the traditional star within a circle. The wear and miscellaneous imprints on the die above tell a story of many years of service, as this design was probably used for all kinds of law enforcement agencies. My badge shows hasty stamping of the letters. Or at least the lack of care usually associated with Simmang or any ranger badge maker. But that does not disprove its authenticity...

The relatively soft, oreite badge was unforgiving. Oreite was basically like bronze, containing brass, zinc and tin, and looking like gold when polished. It was easily engraved and stamped, but also easily scarred or bent. And in 1925, or thereabouts, a special order badge blank for this badge was not so easily replaced. A slight flaw in the stamping was tolerable compared to a lawman waiting another week or two for another badge to be obtained for custom stamping. So my guess is, for the time it was being used, it was “good enough.” Mr. Simmang probably gave him a discount on it, and sent him on into “harm's way.”

So, "even a blind hog finds an acorn," every once in awhile. My wife asked me where I was going to display my new find. Surely it needed to be in a suitable, worthy place. And somewhere where I could take it out and look at it! You can imagine that I have picked up some good badges, in all the hunting and gathering, and I have my better badges where I can show them off. But none of them are this old or have a Texas Ranger's initials carved in them like this one. I'm going to have to keep this one handy... so I can let it tell me its story. We need to find out who “T.E.H.” was, and maybe then the badge will be able to rest with the others.

THE CLYDE BARROW MIRROR

History and MYSTERY lovers, 

Former Texas Ranger Bob Connell

 and I talk about things we can't prove.

 It's a long list.

It's a charming, somewhat humble thing. And it has a wonderful story which requires some suspension of disbelief in order to fully enjoy it. It is an old engraved mirror, and if only it could reflect back to us what it has seen. 

The Barrow Mirror.

The other day I was chatting with a retired Texas Ranger, a man who would have many stories to tell if there was time to listen. Bob Connell was once the interim Police Chief in Navasota, and is not just a former Texas Ranger, he is a man who has spent his life collecting the legends and lore of his esteemed law enforcement agency. He is the proud owner of a rare Texas Ranger badge, once the property of Ranger Captain M. E. Bailey, that was dug up by a Navasota citizen in his flower bed. History randomly coughed up the brass relic of one former ranger and former Navasota City Marshal in 1912, into the hands of a man with the same relative titles one hundred years later! But that is another story.

And people have given him things.

The subject that day gravitated to “great stories we could not prove.” There are lots of them. The old badge had Bailey's name inscribed right on it, no problem proving that. But time and circumstances have erased the traces of provenance that have reduced otherwise sensational things... into the seemingly ordinary. And Bob has one such frustrating item.

The story goes that he had an uncle named Audie who lived in Dallas, and Audie once worked as an ice delivery man. Yes, once men delivered big blocks of ice to homes, back in the 1920's, '30's and '40's. The people would put a little placard out in the window or on the porch if they needed ice. The delivery man would stop his wagon or truck and bring it right to the doorstep with a pair of giant tongs. People kept their blocks of ice in ice boxes. They would use it to cool their perishable food, and would chip or shave ice off the melting ice block for drinks. Everybody had an ice shaver and an ice pick in the kitchen drawer. 

Anyway, one of Uncle Audie's customers was Mrs. Cummie Barrow, faithful mother of the notorious Texas gangster and cop-killer, Clyde Barrow. One day, for some reason, perhaps to pay her ice bill, Mrs. Barrow offered Bob's uncle a little treasure in lieu of payment for her ice service. She had this old mirror... and the story goes it had been given to her from her infamous and bereaved son Clyde. And Audie the ice man took the mirror and kept it. We are going to assume he took care of her ice bill, in trade for the mysterious relic. 

 

The story goes... that young Clyde, before he turned to a life of crime, had worked at United Mirror & Glass Company at 2614 Swiss Ave., in Dallas, believed to be the very glass company where the mirror had been made, and Clyde quite possibly had helped in the manufacture of it... sometime between 1926 and 1930... as the story goes. One has to believe it would have been a serious sacrifice for Mrs. Barrow to part with such a useful keepsake. And one has to believe that this vintage mirror has no little significance in Texas law enforcement history... and considerable value to collectors, if the story could only be proven.

The mirror had been left to Ranger Connell's parents and thus to him. Now he owns the mirror and its story, and has done all he could as an experienced investigator, to establish the connection between the mirror and Clyde Barrow. Absolute proof is impossible. 

But belief is. It is, that is if you accept the oral traditions of a family that preserved not only the mirror and its story, but a Texas lawman with a stellar career.

Personally, I think it is good that Ranger Connell cannot prove his family's most controversial icon. If they could have, it might have been sold decades ago. The money would now be gone, the story lost to some packrat collector and never told or shared. The mirror would be hanging in some oilman's man cave, a casual conversation piece, always explained by, “yeah, I probably paid too much for that thing...”

It is because he cannot prove his story that Bob still has it and is still talking about it. It's probably the find of the century, that could be worth thousands. But is more valuable to all of us as a story. In the end, to me that kind of story is worth more than money. It captures the imagination where cold cash just lays there with no life, no mystery, no anticipation. 

 When I looked into the mirror for the first time, I saw (in my fertile imagination!) Bonnie and Clyde looking into it as well, and back at me. It gave me the creeps. It made me think about old lady Barrow tearfully handing over the thing to her ice man. For a second I was inside that glass... my reflection was sharing space above the silver with them all. 

How much is something like that worth? Well an old ranger and I think it is priceless!

Ready to face the machine guns... of Mo McMorrow

SIX years ago I ran home to write my weekly music blog after a wonderful singer-songwriter performed at the Corner Cafe here in Navasota, and in a rare instance, I experienced writer's block. I'm sure now I was afraid I had lost my objectivity, and sure I would be too much in love with the performer to be credible... And also painfully aware that my take on her music might be appreciated by her the least... (I had gotten some angry feedback at that time from some of the visiting musicians who hated my reviews...)  So I let it brew awhile.  

And then I forgot about it. Sorry Mo! I am ready to face the machine guns!

I do not believe in re-incarnation. But sometimes a song comes along which seems to connect me with an eternal, primeval chain of souls who reach for me from out of the past-  and possesses me- hand-in-glove, through the singer. And I have to admit that when this happens, it is usually some kind of music which is derived from Irish traditions.

Sure I love folk and country and rock and roll, and I'm learning to appreciate blues. The first time I felt this supernatural Irish effect was listening to an Eddie Rabbitt 8-track. He sang a mystical song about Ireland like he knew and loved it with all of his being... and as I listened, I too became Irish. Man I went there! An exceptional musician can do that. The same way Blind Willie Johnson and Al Green baptized me African American, and Merle Haggard brought me into the brotherhood of ex-cons. It is something wonderful and spiritual and completely a divine fruit of the imagination. Music is a way we can all celebrate the brotherhood of man... and YES woman... I am a woman whenever I listen to Jewel, or Crystal Gayle.

But when my daughter introduced me to Steeleye Span... I was a goner. I became Irish in my soul of souls, and the rest was just quaint cultural exchange. I was grooving to words I could not even understand. You Tube then fed me an infinite dive into “my past.” The crying fiddles, the driving rhythms, and tenor ecstasies... and sometimes bagpipes that choke me up when they just begin to whine. They reset my emotions instantly. 

(Click below for Cam Ye O'er Frae Franc by Steeleye Span... several versions, I love the shorter studio version the best, second from the left, but all worth listening to)

http://search.aol.com/aol/video?s_it=sb-top&s_chn=prt_bon&v_t=comsearch-aolnewtab-t&q=you+tube+steeleye+span+cam+ye+o+frae+franc

When I discovered the anthem Erin Go Bragh (Ireland forever!), I was sure I was hearing the caress of my ancestral heartstrings...
   https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q3Nqg2ohiDY

When they sing FACE THE MACHINE GUNS for Erin Go Bragh, I am so ready! 

Still, I had no clue what these folks were so mad about... But it was inspiring to be exposed to such conviction, such unanimity, all shared through soulful poetry.

 Mo McMorrow

So if you understand or even relate to any of this you will probably enjoy Mo McMorrow... a darlin' lass of Irish extraction who sings here in Texas like a passionate angelic missionary. And you will grow to love her recordings like Irish Gold from across the sea. I heard her first in Schulenburg, Texas at a downtown festival... She had commandeered a beauty parlor for the evening and won everyone's hearts... and most of them were of hard-core German extraction. I played her first CD (Excellent: Mona Lisas Don't Cry) until it had so many dings in it that it became irritating... I had to find another one... That led me to her next album.

McMorrow's album called Hangin' from a Nail (2013) continues her weaving of American and Irish traditions, and within she does her own version of the Irish standard, Spancil Hill.

Just twenty-three, Michal Considine wrote this song in the 1800's while dying in the gold fields of California. A native-born Irishman, his gaelic impetuousness led him to seek riches in a faraway land. And there he perished. But before he passed away, his adventure over, his gift of Irish poetry captured his epic regret as he realized he would never see Ireland, or the love of his life, again. He sent the song on where he could never go, to say good bye to everything he loved about his beloved home.

It was a very sad song, full of poetic, cultural pride and ethos. Thank goodness, the Irish loved it, and it has become a national anthem, if not a warning to NEVER LEAVE, ever since.

 Spancil Hill is the site of a traditional horse fair in County Clare.

You see, Irish music traditions are built on the same foundation as blues; Oppression and depression and the human struggle to endure. The music is large, hearty, focusing on the “small” people with huge loves, hates and passions. It is a catharsis for its audience, salving their hurts, but finding oneness in corporate self-pity and identity in a people chained to their own negativity. Like blues it will never go away as long as oppression (and Ireland!) exists. When you hear this music you remember your own pains and sufferings, and find comfort and community in the music. And it is good every once in awhile to free this stuff, which we tend to internalize, out of our systems. Thus Irish music has a very liberating effect.

So the Irish will always be the proud custodians of bedrock melancholy and discontent. Maybe it is in their DNA. Thankfully some of us have escaped. Mo is one, one of those exceptional musicians, transforming her passion for life and lore into soulful, engaging, inspiring performances.

But some of us have never escaped, or even sadder, never known what we escaped. But if you want to know... If you have a restless, wandering soul, if you are feelin' a bit Irish... Get Hangin' on a Nail, and especially Spancil Hill... but fetch your box of tissues first. Click below to have your socks blown off!

 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RqKJs5ZLe3o

Sam Houston: A Legacy of Lost Loves

Maybe there was a good reason why Sam looked so sad...

Sam Houston was a son of fortune on the battlefield. But he may have been the most unlucky of men in relationships. He fought bravely and was wounded for life for his beloved mentor General Andrew Jackson against the Creek Indians, only to become a political pariah in Washington. He was married to a beautiful young woman named Eliza Allen in Tennessee whom he unexplainably divorced soon after. He had been elected Governor of Tennessee only to resign in awkward controversy and with threats on his life... by his in-laws! And his trail of tears did not end there.

Houston fled to the Indian Territory, where he took up with the Cherokees. The Cherokees were part of a loose network of Native Americans, known to us as the so-called “Five Civilized Tribes.” There in modern day Arkansas he drank his troubles away and hid for awhile from civilization. As a young man he had lived with the Indians and learned their ways, and had been adopted into the tribe. He adapted quickly to life in the wilderness. About an eighth Cherokee, tall and statuesque Tiana (Talihina) Rodgers Gentry was the half-sister of two Cherokee chiefs, and niece to Cherokee Principal Chief John Jolly and related to the famous founder of Cherokee alphabet, Sequoyah. She became Tiana Houston in 1830. It is thought by many that Tiana was Houston's romantic interest before the Cherokee removal from Tennessee. Near Fort Gibson She ran his trading post known as Wigwam Neosho, and oversaw his interests while he drank hard- and occasionally fought in Washington D.C. for her people. 

 Sam Houston loved the arabesque attire worn by the Cherokees, and drove his detractors crazy with his Indian garb while in Washington D.C.....

Houston's earliest biographers chose to skim over this period in General Sam's life. In fact they often somehow forgot to mention Tiana, his legendary "Cherokee" wife. What could have been so bad about Houston finding love in his darkest hour? In fact those writers probably discovered and tried to avoid a scandalous harem left in the Arkansas Territory, of Native American wives that Texans even today will squirm at.

It was during these years in obscurity when Sam Houston may have woven his most intricate if not tangled web of influence. Houston was a very tall, commanding figure, and known as a powerful warrior from his days of fighting under Jackson against their sometime adversaries, the Creeks. Many historians still contend that Houston may have been assembling an Indian army as a U.S. Agent, intending to invade and secure Texas from Mexico using Native American mercenaries. Either way, Sam Houston became the great white hope for the civilized tribes. Houston refused to speak English, dressed and survived like an Indian. And he still had powerful medicine, especially able to fight in Washington for Native American causes and win the undying devotion of the Cherokees, and perhaps other tribes in their alliance.

 

Bye and bye, and certainly on schedule according to conspiracy theorists, Sam Houston left his idyllic life with the Indians, and followed his star into Texas, where his associations with the Indians would pay off later. He last saw Tiana, (actually Talahina) or Diana Houston at Fort Towson, when he left his adopted Cherokee homeland on a mysterious mission; The liberation of Texas. At the time he supposedly planned for his Cherokee spouse to join him, but she never did... and there may have been good reasons.

Incredibly, he would never mention Tiana or even bother to obtain a legal divorce from her. They had been married and separated according to Indian law. As far as what has been written about them for over a century, there was no issue out of this relationship. Whatever it meant to General Sam, it was in the past. Records show that she later remarried, so it may not be true that she waited faithfully and died of a a broken heart, as the legend goes...

 

But certain clues have emerged over the decades that shed light on Sam Houston's lost Indian loves. It is very possible, maybe even probable that he had other Native American “wives” during that time, from other tribes, as was Native American custom. This is nothing that the Houston family ever publicly acknowledged, but some Native Americans did, and did so discreetly, as they found the reality of it less useful than their white kinsmen. Here are the intriguing facts, and stubborn conclusions about Sam Houston's “lost” loves...

Texans take so much about the amazing Sam Houston for granted. He was the Governor of two states in the United States, a president of Texas, a hero of the War of 1812 and the commanding general in Texas Revolution. At the pinnacle of his illustrious career, he was impeached as the Texas Governor because he refused to join the madness of secession, the Confederacy and war against his beloved mother country. He died rejected and hated by many Texans. His legacy of lost loves is almost impossible to comprehend. That may be why so few have asked some obvious questions...

Like: Who was Talahina Rodgers? Who were the Alabama and Coushatta Indians, and why were they somehow overlooked when Texans routed and expunged all other Native Americans under President Lamar? All Indians but the Alabamas and the Coushattas, their kinsmen, relative newcomers to Texas themselves, were completely removed from Texas. But the Alabamas and Coushattas were eventually given a reservation and promises that were sort of kept. What kind of deal had they made? Who made it? Why and how was it enforced to this very day? Why did all of the Indian tribes trust Sam Houston so much, and why could he secure peace with them when nobody else could?

I believe that these and other questions that spring from these questions can be answered by Houston's Indian alliances and possible clandestine marriages while in Indian Territory. There are some intriguing possibilities. Prominent Indians from at least two different tribes have passed on traditions that they were “blood brothers” of Sam Houston. Indians either gave or took his name out of admiration, such as Sam Houston Benge, Houston Shaw, Samuel Houston Smith and Samuel Houston Mayes. Houston may have been the most admired and loved white man to ever mingle among the Five Civilized Tribes.

Cherokee Chief Bowles gave one of his daughters to Houston. This marriage was actually witnessed and recorded by Samuel Maverick. A Wichita woman named Melissa Houston claimed to be Sam Houston's wife as well.

Some of the research that brought these “native sons” to light was done by Dr. Joseph B. Mahan. A vastly pedigreed academic, Dr. Mahan wrote a fascinating book called North American Sun Kings, which fleshed out the complex inter-tribal alliances between the Civilized Tribes, and the religious and cultural core of their kinships. In his book Dr. Mahan reveals the mysteries of the ancient Shawano belief system, as understood by the Yuchi tribe, which included priest-kings and royal families and some mysteries very akin to that of the Masonic Order.

Like the Levites of old, the Yuchi Kings had priests who knew their genealogies going back many, many generations. The Yuchi were the priest class of the civilized tribes, embodied by the Cherokee, Choctaw, Seminole, Creek and Chickasaw tribes. Yuchi shamans were the official keepers of the eternal sacred fire for all the woodland tribes.

When Sam Houston met with these people, he no doubt would have recognized their significance and the similarity of their beliefs to ancient Judaism. He was perceived by them as a noble among nobles, and as he fraternized with many chiefs in the region, he no doubt was honored in many ways that would have been lost on the average Nineteenth Century person. And he may have been inducted into a secret Indian society known as the “Great Medicine Society,” and sealed these relationships through extra marriages. Dr. Mahan interviewed at length one such Yuchi chief, Samuel W. Brown Jr, who had no doubt that he was a grandson of Sam Houston.

Samuel W. Brown Sr., Chief of the Yuchi, always claimed Sam Houston as his real father.

Chief Brown unveiled to Dr. Mahan an elaborate network of spiritual tradition and practice, carried for centuries through many related tribes, from the Great Lakes region to the Smoky Mountains and later to Texas and Oklahoma. Dr. Mahan wrote everything down that Chief Brown said, and then spent the rest of his life trying to understand it all. In the midst of all of the mystic language and complicated tribal relationships, stood the unapologetic fact that Chief Brown was descended from General Sam Houston.

His father, Sam Brown Sr., had been born in Van Buren, Arkansas, in 1833, the son of a Yuchi princess from Alabama, named Suttah. Also known as Polly, she was a direct descendant of the famous Emperor Brim; the daughter of the Yuchi Sun King Timpoochee Barnard. Suttah was also the sister of two prominent Yuchi subchiefs, Tisoso and Fushudgee, both “Birdtail Kings.” All of them were grandchildren of "Cusseta" (Koasati/Coushatta) Birdtail Kings. They were royalty, at the top of their social order.

A fierce Yuchi partisan and statesman, Tisoso was hung by whites in Girard, Alabama in 1836, after Sam Houston had gone to Texas. He and his brothers had petitioned the Secretary of War, attempting to stop “the fraud being practiced upon our people.” These were the purportedly short-lived Indian brother's-in-law of Sam Houston and the uncles of Sam Brown Sr., who was of noble Yuchi blood and served as Yuchi principal chief for almost 50 years. His mother, Princess Suttah was murdered in 1861 by some of Quantrell's Raiders in Oklahoma during the Civil War. Fushudgee was killed the next year fighting under Creek Chief Opethleyoholo at Pea Ridge.

The fact that Sam Houston was the Senior Brown's father was a mere fact, nothing to be proud of, in fact it was rarely mentioned. In Creek and Yuchi tradition, royalty was passed down through the females, as in ancient Hebrew custom. Other Creek customs were unusual if not quite liberal to our Western, Victorian standards. Creek girls were expected to be sexually active before marriage. These were matrilocal societies, where polygamy was common, and chiefs encouraged favored candidates to bed with their daughters. Mixed-blood was actually desired. To add to the genetic pool of confusion, the Creeks were also exogamous, forbidding the marriage of individuals within the clan. Sam Houston would have been almost incidental to Sam Brown Jr.'s story, since his power and authority came through his grandmother Suttah. Still, Brown Sr. had admitted to his son that “...My father Sam Houston made two crops- and I rode on the horse's back...”

 Samuel W. "Billy" Brown Jr.

Billy Brown looked more like Sam Houston than his father did.

Old Chief Brown's contention that he was somehow spawned by General Sam Houston has its problems. It is doubtful that Houston made “two crops”... unless this was a euphemism for two conjugal visits, or even two children. Perhaps he might have once met Sam Houston later and “rode the horse's back,” the “horse” better translating into English as sire. Sam Brown was born in June of 1833, after Sam Houston abandoned his “Cherokee” wife Tiana and bought over 4000 acres on Karankawa Bay in Texas. In October, Nine months before, was exactly when Houston had settled his accounts and given the trading post and slaves to Tiana, and left forever. Intriguingly, Chief Brown would have to have been conceived during this last return to the Indian Territory and right before Sam Houston's legendary departure to Texas. So even though this relationship seems sketchy and improbable, it could have happened.

Houston filed his claim at San Felipe as a married man. If he had multiple wives in the Indian territory, he faced a real cultural dilemma. Which wife would he bring to Texas?

 Several Native American women insisted to their deaths that they were once wives of the famous Texan, and bore him children. This was nothing to brag about, as Texans were generally despised by Indians. Later the confusion led skeptics to allege that even youngest son Temple was one of the Indian offspring.

Houston did go back and forth in the early months of his adventure, offering opportunity for a tryst while reporting on his progress with the Comanches to American authorities. The Comanches were considered by the Americans as a possible natural military barrier to the Mexicans if they would cooperate, and Houston effectively placated them. If Houston had so many neglected and jealous lovers awaiting him back in the Indian Territory, no wonder dealing with Comanches seemed like a reasonable if not safer endeavor!

Sam Brown Sr. seemed to suggest that Sam Houston lived with his mother Suttah for at least two years, since “he made two crops.” He also suggests that he rode on the plow horse used on their farm, when just a toddler. It is not absurd to imagine this scenario, when we consider Houston's chronic alcoholism and escapism, and his popularity with the Cherokees. But a farmer he wasn't. Whatever strange fiefdom Houston had created, he could not sustain it.

 This portrait of Sam Houston reveals the similarity between Billy Brown and his alleged grandfather. Even Brown's daughter has Houston's eyes.

And there may have been a second, older son from this union, or a cousin or "half brother" out of an aunt of Brown's. No dates are known for a brother of Sam Brown's, but in the 1840's Brown's so-called “half brother” was kidnapped by the Osages, to be raised as one of their future chiefs! Houston had been instrumental in negotiating a successful and effective Treaty between the Osages and Creeks in 1831. This child may have been stolen when that treaty went sour. The stolen Yuchi boy was called Tsa pah ki ah, and became a major chief of the Osages. He was never rejoined to his Yuchi family. 

 Sam and Osage Chief Tsa Pah Ki Ah

The stealing of Indian children of royal blood was considered an intelligent thing to do! Is it possible that even a child of Sam Houston was considered powerful medicine? Or more likely, a great prospect for a huge ransom. There is no way to know what the Osages saw in the little Yuchi boy, but one look at him as a man and there is the instant impression of Sam Houston. Skeptics argued that Sam Brown Sr. did not look anything like Sam Houston, but then neither did Temple Houston, the last off-spring from Houston's most famous marriage... and yet Sam Brown Sr. could easily have been believed to have been Temple's brother.

The elder Brown took the name Brown from an Indian educator he admired. S. C. Brown took him under his wing and shared his love for education, which led to the founding of several Indian schools. If Sam Houston was his blood father, S. C. Brown was Brown's intellectual mentor. Still the acorn does not fall far from the tree. Sam Brown Sr was an original member of the Creek House of Kings, the Treasurer of the Creek Nation, a 32nd Degree Mason, and ultimately the last surviving Union Officer in Oklahoma. His integrity was unquestioned. Upon his death, Sam Brown Jr obtained a death certificate from the State Department of Health (Bureau of Vital Statistics) which verified that his father was indeed General Sam Houston.

According to Chief Sam Brown Jr., the Yuchis maintained close ties to many Indian brethren throughout the southeast United States, including those living in Polk County, Texas. These would be what we know as the Alabama-Coushatta Indians, once neighbors in Alabama over a century ago. Brown said that the “Cussettas” were the only tribe outside of the Yuchis who had ever been given all of the secrets of their elite religious order. The Cussettas (Koasati/Coushatta) were descendants of the Muscogee and Natchez tribes of the lower Mississippi Valley, and closely kin to the Creeks. They came to Texas around 1810. They brought the secrets and the alliances of the Birdtail Kings with them to the new land. Perhaps this ancient religious society was the nucleus of an blood covenant between General Sam Houston and his Indian kinsmen, which spanned from the Indian Territory to east Texas, and somehow protected these Native Americans from expulsion.

Whatever the reasons for it, kinsmen of Chief Sam Brown's seemed to enjoy the proverbial “king's X” in Texas. All other tribes were driven or burned out from east Texas before 1850. But even President Lamar, a veritable Indian exterminator, and the Texas Legislature passed laws and set aside large tracts of land for the Alabamas in Polk County, and they shared their good fortune with the Coushattas, and both live in peace in Texas to this very day.

Lanier Lectures: On the cutting edge of Eternity

Lanier Theological Library

 At a time when many serious Biblical scholars are announcing the decline of Western Christianity, and the rise of secular humanism, not to mention the visible groundwork for Armageddon, it was a striking detour to be ushered into the depths of theological debate thriving at the Stone Chapel in North Houston, sponsored by the Lanier Theological Library. To add to my already overloaded senses, was the sudden revival of memories which had flooded my mind, as the Lanier Library compound lies in the same place, once a forest wilderness, where my brother and I rode horseback as redneck teenagers. I actually courted my first sweetheart under the virgin pine canopy near there. I shook off those thoughts as I came into an Old World village complete with cobblestone walkways and a 6^th Century Byzantine chapel, executed with Thomas Kinkadesque beauty and perfection. 

 Like a kid in a candy store... my brother Reynolds insisted that I come see this amazing facility... 

My brother had insisted that I come with him and showed me around the Lanier Theological Library, host of some 86,000 volumes... and sundry Holy Land artifacts. There was a panel discussion going on in the Chapel, on slavery of all things... I was still thinking about the unlikelihood of this kind of thing being tucked back in this wooded neighborhood.... as we took seats in the chapel and caught the end of the discussion...

You might, like me, wonder what slavery has to do with the price of beans. But there have been arguments made against the trustworthiness of the Bible... and the God of the Holy Bible, since it is perceived by some readers that the Bible condones slavery... an unforgivable stance to any modern, enlightened mind. Some modern thinkers reject the God of the Bible because he obviously was prejudiced and unjust, if not racist and downright narrow-minded.

 Incredible murals bring Old World flavor to this reproduction of a 6th Century Turkish church.

The panel discussion was tough for me to follow as a layperson, as some of these leading theologians, brought in from all over the world, would often use Hebrew or Greek to make their points... which were often answering some obscure premise thrown to the experts to chew on. The pitcher was Mark Lanier, who played the role of facilitator-host... pacing and postulating under the grandly adorned dome of the chapel, a sort of Donahue goes to Cambridge... stimulating and sometimes baiting discussion from the four fairly soft-spoken theologians. One of the youngest and most animated of them was Peter Williams, Warden at Tyndale House Cambridge in England, who would be the featured speaker that evening.

 Mark Lanier has built the most impressive theological library in the region. So far he has hosted thirty lectures.

The exchange was friendly and yet earnest, and a rare glimpse for Texans into Christian intelligentsia. But for me, on face value the questions illustrated an unkind assumption I have nurtured, perhaps unfairly,  that theologians are people with huge brains and long pedigrees who focus too long on the most insignificant things.

Still, we need them, to settle those stupid questions inspired by well-meaning, almost smart folks, people who fall under the cynical influence of the Evil One. The gist of the question, and I can only assume this because I missed the introduction, was: Were the assumptions valid which claimed that the Holy Scriptures endorsed the practice of slavery, thus rendering the God of the Bible as an ancient excuse for ethnic oppression? These seemingly absurd interpretations were used all the way up until the American Civil War. Actually they survived in some southern pockets long into the 1960's.

The panel revealed that the devil was in the details; that great harm had been done with ambiguous translations of the words for servant and slave; that translators have through the centuries allowed their cultural attitudes to color their somewhat subjective translations. As time has passed, when there was an option, later translators chose to emphasize a more hostile form of bondage, (Hebrew "ebed/eved": can mean servant OR bondservant) as opposed to voluntary indenture (servanthood). Where older texts sported a limited use of the word for slavery, later translations abounded with them. And lost to all of us are the cultural realities of Ancient times. In fact people, sometimes whole nations voluntarily placed themselves in servitude, for decades, to gain protection or avoid wholesale starvation. Slaves in ancient context had rights... and protection, and limited engagement. When God gave direction through His prophets concerning slavery, it was in the same vein as His laws on divorce... not because it was His Divine Will, but because of the hardness of men's hearts. 

A great deal more could be discussed when this is considered. Even God understood that the world is imperfect, and once relationships like ancient slavery had been established since the days of Pharaoh, it was not so simple to just declare instant justice and freedom for all. The interdependence between the parties, and the consequences from sudden liberation of a servant class with no education, no assets, no homes, and most importantly inadequate acculturation, could only lead to further chaos and injustice. In God's wisdom, the best solution to men's complicated social structure was to let them work it out gradually over time, laying down the bedrock concepts of mercy and justice as the underpinnings of society.

As Peter Williams pointed out (and hard for our modern minds to comprehend), for some disadvantaged people, ancient forms of slavery were the best thing for them at the time, and they were the first to admit it. Knowing this makes the actions of some slaves in the South, when they refused to leave their plantations when set free, and tearfully begged to stay, explainable. This loyalty was not because of ignorance, but because of personal knowledge of their questionable readiness for independence. But concepts of "justice" and a bloody war overruled common sense. 

 

Peter Williams took these observations about Hebrew and Greek nuances to their plausible conclusions, but he also offered some surprises. He has been doing some deep-sea diving in the currents of many languages, forging one authentic, holistic world view of these issues. Studying Germanic, Gaelic and Latin languages, he has done yeoman's excavation of these ancient words and their translations and how various peoples made them their own. They had no axe to grind and thus suffered less cultural distortion of these words... and perhaps a more clear understanding of the nuances... sometimes lost in our English translations.

 Peter Williams of Tyndale House, reads and studies in a dozen languages.

 

But Williams' brilliant twist came from his study and observations of the supposed slavery of the Jews while in Egypt. We have all grown up being told that the Jews were brought out of Egypt from the oppression of slavery and service to Pharaoh. And we have all been ignoring the scriptures which tell of when the Egyptians themselves willingly committed themselves into slavery to Pharaoh as well... via the negotiations of Joseph, father of two tribes of Israel, the Israelite placed at Pharaoh's right hand. In fact everyone was a servant of the Pharaoh, but the Israelites enjoyed a somewhat elevated status... more as hirelings, status they won upon their arrival in Goshen hundreds of years before under the protection of Joseph. Maybe Joseph had been forgotten, and the Egyptians were cruel employers, but the Israelite's confrontation with Pharaoh was more akin to a Victorian labor dispute.

Over the years cultural bias caused more than one translator to render these servants into “slaves.” In some cases translators, bending to their own perceptions, translated the same word for servant, used twice in one paragraph, differently. This subtle bending of semantics was not without terrible results. Sadly 600,000 Americans died in a Civil War where around half the country argued that the Bible justified their use of slavery, so this sloppy scholarship had very grave consequences, as provincial minds, assuming the veracity of English translations, bet their lives and futures on them...

 Q & A at the end of the lecture.

Peter Williams more than once wisely refused to pass judgment on participants in the American Civil War, ( known by Southerners as the War of Northern Aggression). He explained that each individual in the war, on either side, was there for his own reasons or rationale... and finally he quipped that if the audience wanted to know the proper understanding of the war, they would have to be there on Judgment Day. 

 Stairwell in the Lanier Library

Some things we do not get to grasp- on this side of Eternity. The path to perfect understanding is much like the stair rail in the Lanier Library. But for those things that can and should be grasped... the folks at Lanier can be trusted to flesh them out.

The Lanier Library is open from 9:00 to 5:00 on weekdays and until 9:00 on Tuesdays. You can learn more about it at:  www.LanierTheologicalLibrary.org.

More on FAKE Ranger Badges

I get a lot of inquiries from people who find and read my blog, still convinced they are the owner of a REAL Texas Ranger Badge, and wanting further satisfaction. I have to admit some of them own very well-made replicas. Sometimes, rarely, I agree that they have an authentic Texas Ranger badge. Maybe once. Also some owners of these rare relics contact me as well, and they of course do not need or ask for my opinion. But they seem to enjoy the blog and agree with most of it. Anyway, I thought I would post this for all those want-to-be Texas Ranger badge owners who still are not convinced, one way or another. 

IF you have the real thing... there are some telltale signs, on the back of the badge... once again the reverse or Peso side of the badge tells everything. A jeweler in Houston named Nelson Silvia made many of the later Ranger badges from the 1960's on and put his mark on them. It will look something like this... there are variations. IF you have a badge that looks like this, but does not have this cartouche, you are probably holding a clever copy.

real deal

Note at about about 5:00 the stamp...

It says : NEL-SIL 

HOU-TEX

The better copies of this badge are cast in silver by excellent craftsmen. As far as I know, there have been none made with the Silva name stamped in them, as this would be double forgery. But not all of them are easily discounted. Some of these copiers are very good at casting and replicating the Peso. So good, you cannot tell. BUT, you can tell if it is cast.

fake

Do you see the inconsistencies at the bottom edge?

Inspect the coin's ridge. It should be in tact and have all those little tiny teeth. And they should be perfect. Here is where you will find the tell-tale evidence of casting. When the Peso badge is replicated, a mold is made from it and then wax copies of the coin are made to be cast in silver using the "lost wax" process. There has to be a tube to funnel the molten silver into the hollow ceramic mold -  which houses the cavity where the wax replica was... (now melted away). During the pour, that tube will fill full of silver as well and be sawed off after casting. The jeweler will carefully file the edge of the "coin" and then try to replicate those tiny little ridges on the edge of the coin. They hardly ever do a very convincing job- if you look hard...

You will see file marks, but they are never as neat and are rarely done with much precision... like a real Peso... it is just too small for most jewelers to be able to do it.

How about now? This is an especially poor job.

So, does your badge have any maker's mark? If it is a later design, and most are that "Co. A" Peso badge, it should have one, if it was an authorized badge.

Is it really a coin, or a clever forgery? Here is another absolutely gorgeous fake... with tell-tale saw marks on the edge,  to compare with yours...

This one is numbered and signed GW by the jeweler. GW did a great job, but his sprew location is easily detected, on the ridge, again, at the very bottom.

I hope yours passes this last line of scrutiny. If it does... then congratulations! You might well own a real Texas Ranger badge.