So the final day of the East Texas circuit began in Madisonville – here’s the itinerary:
With all the rain from the previous days, the earth was steamy and beautiful on the back road ride to Huntsville, seat of Walker county.
And then, upon arrival in Huntsville, there arrayed in all its glory is the single thing that Huntsville is most famous for – the Penitentiary. There’s even a Texas Prison Museum.
Well, adding to the list of obstacles in getting my courthouse pictures, in Huntsville I (surprisingly, actually) I encountered my first law enforcement obstacle.
I had been lucky in getting to the courthouse before business had cranked up for the day, and there was only one car in the way – I could get it out of the picture by positioning the bike part-way on the Handicapped zone, which I have done scores of times without anyone saying “boo”.
So I’m getting the camera and tripod ready, when an officious-looking young cop comes striding purposefully out of the courthouse. I figured he was interested in what I was doing, which has previously been the case. Here’s the exchange that took place:
Me: Good morning, officer.
Him: Do you have a Handicapped sticker on that motorcycle.
Me: Laughing, no sir, I did not even realize that it was possible to get such a thing. It’d be hard to manage a motorcycle if you were handicapped.
Him: You have to move that bike. If handicapped people need to use that space, you’ll be in the way.
Me: Understood. I’m not going to park. I’m going to shoot a single picture that will take between 10 and 20 seconds, and if someone comes during that time, I’ll move instantly.
Him: No, you will move it now.
Me: In the amount of time we’ve been talking, I’d have already taken the photo and moved on.
Him: You aren’t getting it. There is a $500 fine for parking in the handicapped parking, and you are going to move the bike right now.
Me: Wordlessly, taking the bike off it’s center stand and moving it no more than 12 inches so the front tire does not touch the handicapped parking line.
Him: Wordlessly, having exercised his authority, he turns on his heel and walks back into the courthouse.
I’m incredulous, notwithstanding the fact that he was right – I should NOT have been obstructing the handicapped parking, though it would have been for 10 to 20 seconds. All to move maybe a foot. I guess I’m lucky I’m not out $500, or shot in the back, or writing this from the Pen…
Huntsville is quite a bustling town – I guess the Pen is good for business.
Unbeknownst to me, Huntsville is closely associated with Sam Houston, who died here in 1863. Sam Houston was an amazing figure. He was a US Representative and governor in Tennessee, then he came to Texas and defeated Santa Anna at San Jacinto, establishing Texas as an independent Republic. He was the first and third President of the Republic of Texas, and led Texas to join the United States in 1845, following which he served both as a US Senator and Governor of the Texas.
Of greatest interest to me is that he refused to join the Confederacy when Texas voted to secede in 1861, and accepted to be removed from the Governorship rather than become a Confederate. He was offered troops by the Union, but rather than add to the bloodshed, he simply stepped down from his offices and retired in Huntsville. There are plaques on the town square that identify sites from which he would sit and whittle wood. It’s easy to be proud of someone like Sam Houston, after whom my home town is named.
Meandering to the west, back into the grassy rolling hills where I spent a large portion of my youth. First stop, Anderson, seat of Grimes County. Beautiful scenery along the way:
Arrival in Anderson: what a stunner of a little courthouse!
Heading west, still, passing through Navasota…
You may recall from the discussion on the previous day’s blog that the El Camino Real, or Old San Antonio Road, had been first trafficked in the late 17th century when the Mexican government was trying to hunt down the Frenchman Rene Robert Cavelier, born in Rouen, and believed to be operating a French fort in defiance of Mexican hegemony.
Well, right on the main drag of Navasota is a statue of none other than Rene Robert Cavelier, AKA La Salle. The inscription says that he “was treacherously slain by his own men near this spot in March, 1687”. A fuller record of his exploits includes his having become a Jesuit at one time, though he left the order before being ordained because of “moral weaknesses”. Recent Catholic history suggests that such weaknesses may not have required him to recuse himself in these days.
He made extensive explorations all over North America and Canada, and eventually claimed the entire Mississippi watershed for France, calling it La Louisiane after King Louis XIV. He had many mishaps along the Texas Gulf Coast while trying to locate the mouth of the Mississippi, the final one of which was the mutiny of his remaining men. He was tricked, ambushed, and killed by Pierre Duhaut, who was subsequently killed to avenge the murder of La Salle.
While there is some dispute about whether it was near Navasota that La Salle came to his end, it’s as good a place as any to begin an exploration of this fascinating slice of Texas history.
Another fascinating slice lay just ahead, in Washington County, of which Brenham is the seat. It so happens that the two places that dominated my youth were Harris County, where was born, lived, and went to school, and Washington County, where my grandfather had a ranch between Burton and Carmine, and where I lived out every fantasy known to Texas boys of that time. So when I’m back in Washington County, there’s some kind of “energy field” where, for me, the universe is “in tune”. The landscapes, the smells, the thoughts – all of them make it very easy, and natural, to be in that place. I think everyone who had a happy childhood must have a “place of origin” like that.
What I had forgotten, however, is that Washington County is more than just a place of personal origin. It was the birthplace of Texas as a Republic. At Washington-on-the-Brazos, in March of 1836, the Texas Declaration of Independence was signed at a Convention held there. A Constitution was also drafted. Astonishingly, less than two months later Sam Houston defeated Santa Anna and the Mexican army at the San Jacinto battleground outside Houston, and Texas was a country!
I did not stop at Washington-on-the-Brazos on this trip, but I’ll revisit it once the 254 county adventure is over.
This is the Washington County courthouse in Brenham:
And I got to see my old friend Ben Rice, whom I had not seen in 50 years, while in Brenham:
I did stop off in Burton on the way back to Wimberley, seeing the Brazos Belle where my grandparents celebrated their 50th anniversary, decades ago.
I did stop off and visit my grandfather’s former ranch – those pix will be put up separately.
This was a grand trip, encompassing a huge variety of landscapes, histories, friends, family, and memories. 204 counties now visited, exactly 50 to go.
The end of Trip 8.