Texas Pirate

 

Jean Lafitte

Pirates are generally not associated with the cowboy-laden culture of Texas.  Pirate icons such as Blackbeard and Henry Morgan got their fame in the Caribbean Islands at the expense of Spain and her New World colonies.  Texas, during the “Golden Age of Piracy,” was a frontier Spanish colony with little to offer a pirate crew.  Rum, gold and loose women were severely lacking.  The inhabitants were mostly rattlesnakes and the Karankawas, an indigenous tribe of hunters and gatherers that practiced ritual cannibalism.  For a few years in the early 1800’s, however, the Texas port of Galveston was a pirate base - the home of notorious pirate Jean Lafitte. 

Little is known about Lafitte’s youth.  He was likely born in 1782 in France before immigrating to Saint Domingue (now Haiti) then New Orleans.  He and his brother Pierre attended a military academy on the French island of Saint Kitts.  A few years later, they were brokers for privateers and smugglers on the Louisiana island of Barataria, 23 miles south of New Orleans.  Lafitte was not your basic slovenly, hard-drinking pirate; he was more like a mob boss.  He enjoyed gambling, attractive women, fine dining, and fashionable attire.  He was also well educated and spoke three languages. 

In the 1790’s, Louisiana was a French colony peopled with a diverse mix of Spaniards, French, Creoles, and free blacks.  New Orleans relied heavily on trade with the Caribbean Islands.  That all changed with the Louisiana Purchase of 1803.  France’s Emperor Napoleon, strapped for cash, sold Louisiana to the United States for $15 million.  Because of its war with France, U.S. merchant ships were often seized on the open seas by British warships, impressing their crews for service in the British Navy.  In retaliation, the United States passed the Embargo Act of 1807 that barred American ships from anchoring at any foreign port and placed an embargo on goods imported into the United States.  New Orleans merchants needed a new source for goods and merchandise.  Jean and Pierre made a fortune smuggling goods and slaves into New Orleans with their pirate fleet, some of which were captured Spanish schooners.  Goods and slaves were seized on the high seas, brought into Barataria, and then purchased or auctioned off in New Orleans.   Slaves were in huge demand, but the slave trade had been outlawed in the United States, making slave ships beckoning targets. 

The Lafitte brothers operated as privateers, legally authorized pirates through letters of marque issued by foreign governments.  In the Lafittes’ case, the letter of marque was from the Port of Cartagena in Columbia, though none of the Lafitte’s pirated goods ever made it there.  Most privateers held multiple letters of marque like a person today would have multiple credit cards, giving them wide leverage in pirating merchant vessels.  By 1810, Barataria was becoming a booming port for smugglers, pirates and privateers, practically a separate nation within the United States - a separate pirate nation.  Louisiana’s new territorial governor greatly resented the Lafittes’ privateering operations, which paid no import taxes and whose well-paid, experienced sailors could cause problems for the fledgling U.S. Navy.  Commodore Daniel T. Patterson, commander of the U.S. naval squadron in the gulf and once a prisoner of the Barbary pirates, wrote, the smugglers “should they not be soon destroyed, it will be extremely hazardous for an unarmed vessel even American to approach the coast.”  During November, 1812, a detachment of 60 U.S. troops invaded Barataria and arrested the Lafitte brothers.  The brothers posted bond before disappearing and then not showing up for their trial.  Louisiana Governor William C. Claiborne posted a $500 reward for the arrest of Pierre and Jean.  The Lafittes, in turn, posted a reward for the arrest of Governor Claiborne.   The Louisiana legislature, whose constituents benefitted from smuggling, refused to assemble a militia to suppress Barataria’s privateers. 

In September, 1814, Patterson launched a second attack on Barataria with a small fleet of seven warships, scattering the privateers and capturing ten of Lafitte’s ships.  Despite Patterson’s success, Claiborne had a bigger problem two months later - the British Navy.  The United States had declared war on Great Britain in June, 1812 over the seizure of its vessels and the arming of hostile Indian tribes resisting westward expansion.  Two years later, the British sacked Washington DC.  By the end of 1814, the British had arrived in the Gulf and requested a meeting with Jean Lafitte.  Meeting at his Baratarian home, they offered him and his fellow privateers land grants and British citizenship if he would support them.  Despite its military setbacks, Lafitte felt the U.S. would eventually win out.  He offered his support to Major General Andrew Jackson.  Lafitte provided guns, ammo and men to Jackson during the Battle of New Orleans.  For his support, Lafitte received a full pardon.  Nevertheless, Lafitte renewed his privateering after the battle while also serving as a Spanish agent during Mexico’s revolt against Spain.  

Pressure from the U.S. forced Lafitte to seek another base.  In 1817, he established his new base at Galveston, giving it the name “Campeche.”  Lafitte had seized the island from another privateer, Louis Michel Aury.  He also built himself a house he named Maison Rouge (Red House).  Eventually, 1,000 people settled there, mostly men.  The better armed settlers held off the Karankawas, but could do little about the weather.  A hurricane swept over the low-lying island in 1817, destroying most of Lafitte’s fleet. 

Jim Bowie, the future knife-wielding, Texas revolutionary, formed a partnership with Lafitte over pirated slaves.  Lafitte brought them ashore before selling them to Bowie; who tipped off U.S. customs officials in New Orleans where they could be found.  In return, Bowie received a bounty and the chance to bid for them at auction.  Bolstered with his bounty money, he outbid his competitors at the auction.  The slaves were, in essence, being laundered like drug money.  Slaves were in high demand in the Mississippi’s Delta Region and planters paid Bowie top dollar for his slaves. 

After the seizure of a U.S. merchant vessel, Lafitte was forced to leave again, this time for the Yucatan Region of Mexico.  He became ill and then returned to Barataria to die. The burning of “Campeche” by Lafitte and natural erosion have left no remains on Galveston Island.  A Texas historical marker stands where Lafitte supposedly lived but the concrete foundations are actually from a house erected years later after Lafitte left.  Lafitte gained renewed prominence with the popularity of Disney’s Pirates of the Caribbean movies.  A theater for tourists, on Galveston’s Pier 21, presents a film entitled The Pirate Island of Jean Lafitte and a museum on the Strand, “Pirates ! Legends of the Gulf Coast,” that has a replica pirate ship and chronicles the life of Lafitte. 

Rebel Raider off the Texas Coast

 

                                   Captain Raphael Semmes on board the CSS Alabama

In January, 1863, less than two weeks after Confederate forces recaptured Galveston, a squadron of five Union warships arrived at the entrance to Galveston Bay.   Their purpose was to reestablish the Union naval blockade, driven off a few days earlier by Texas troops under the command of Major General John B. Magruder.  Venting their wrath over the loss of Texas’ largest city, the Union vessels began lobbing shells into Galveston.  Commodore Henry H. Bell’s attention was diverted to a distant ship on the horizon.  Rumors swirled of a new Confederate warship plying the Atlantic Ocean, but she was too far east to be a threat.  Nevertheless, the ship might be a Confederate vessel.  Bell ordered the side paddlewheel steamer, USS Hatteras, to chase down the mystery ship. 

Prior to the Civil War, the 210-foot Hatteras had served as a passenger steamer on the Delaware River.  In desperate need of steam vessels to chase down blockade runners, the U.S. Navy purchased every seaworthy steamboat available, mostly passenger and ferry boats.  Hatteras possessed an iron deck, making her ideal for supporting large naval guns.   Because of the paddle wheels, she was limited in the number of guns she could carry.  Four 32-pound shell guns, two 20-pound rifled guns, and a 12-pound howitzer were installed.  The added weight, however, decreased her speed to 7 knots.  A crew of 126 men and officers was assigned to the converted gunboat under the command of Commander George Foster Emmons.  Hatteras was dispatched to the South Atlantic Blockade Squadron to patrol the coast of West Florida.  Despite its slow pace, Hatteras managed to capture 14 blockade runners; seven of which were captured during an evening raid on Cedar Keys, Florida.  She was later assigned to the Western Gulf Coast Blockade Squadron, patrolling the waters off Louisiana and Texas.  Emmons was replaced by Commander Homer C. Blake; who had performed a geographical survey of the Texas coast before the war.  

Hatteras steamed toward the mystery ship at top speed, but was moving too far from the support of her squadron.  The mystery ship’s commander counted on it, keeping her just slow enough to entice a chase.  Twenty miles from the Texas coast, he suddenly turned about and steamed toward Hatteras.  The evening darkness hampered identification, except for the presence of a British flag flying from her aft mast.  Within 70 yards, Blake called out to the ship to stop and identify herself.  “What ship are you?”  The mystery ship replied, “Her Britannic Majesty Ship Petrel!”  Not convinced of her neutral nation identity, Blake shouted back that he was sending a boat over.  Before the boat could depart, Petral turned her broadside to directly face Hatteras.  The British flag was lowered and replaced with the flag of the Confederate States of America.  A second identity was shouted out.  “This is the Confederate States Steamer Alabama - Fire!  Blake was now locked into a duel with the Confederacy’s deadliest warship.

The steam cruiser CSS Alabama was British-built under the discrete direction of Confederate Agent Commander James Bulloch.  According to Great Britain’s neutrality laws, vessels could be constructed for foreign powers at war provided they were not armed.  That didn’t mean they couldn’t be armed outside British territory.  Upon completion, Alabama sailed for the Azores Islands off the Portuguese coast.  Eight 32-pound smoothbore guns, one 8-inch smoothbore pivot gun and a ship-killing 110-pound Blakely pivot gun were brought aboard.  To save fuel and reduce drag, the cruiser’s screw, or propeller, could be raised, enabling her to be solely propelled by sail.  Lured by pay in gold coin that was double their normal salaries and booty from captured ships, the crew was recruited from British ships.  The officers were Southerners.   The cruiser was placed under the command of Captain Raphael Semmes, who had previously commanded the steam cruiser CSS Sumter.   Before Alabama entered the Gulf of Mexico, she had seized 26 vessels.  Twenty-two were burned after any useful items were confiscated.  The rest were bonded to send prisoners home or had foreign registry.  Confederate agents and captured newspapers kept Semmes apprised of any opportunities.  Cruising off Santo Domingo, a Boston newspaper informed Semmes of a planned coastal invasion of Texas by Major General Nathaniel Banks, requiring over twenty transport vessels.  Although Alabama’s main purpose was to sink Union merchant vessels, Semmes couldn’t resist an opportunity to attack Union troop ships.  The invasion was thwarted when Confederate troops liberated Galveston, capturing a Union regiment and driving off Union blockaders in the process.  On January 11, 1863, off the Galveston coast, Alabama’s’ lookout yelled out, “Land ho! Sail ho!”  He counted five warships, but no transports.  It became apparent that Galveston had been recaptured when they fired their guns on the Texas port.  One of the warships, USS Hatteras, approached.  Semmes ordered Alabama to steam west, luring Hatteras away from the coast. 

Hatteras’ Executive Officer Henry O. Porter told Blake, “That, sir, I think is the Alabama.  What shall we do?”  Blake replied calmly, “If that is the Alabama we must fight her.”  A tremendous broadside from Alabama crashed into Hatteras’ hull.  Porter shouted out, “Alabama, boys give it to her.”  The firepower of the Confederate raider was too much.  Semmes later recalled his men had “handled their pieces with great spirit and commendable coolness.”  One shot hit the port paddlewheel, forcing portions of the wheel into her hull.  Another shot hit the steam chest, disabling the engine and sending out a cloud of scalding steam.  Hatteras was now dead in the water.  A shot from Alabama’s 110-pound Blakely ripped into Hatteras’ sick bay, setting bottles of turpentine on fire.  The fire spread throughout the ship, threatening the powder magazine.  An alert African-American steward desperately began drowning the gunpowder in the rising seawater to keep it from exploding.  Alabama’s guns punched gaping holes into Hatteras’ hull below the waterline.  Water poured through, forcing Hatteras to list on her side.  Blake ordered a canon fired to signal surrender.  The battle was over in thirteen minutes.

Alabama ceased fire and sent out her boats to rescue Hatteras’ crew.  Semmes set course to Jamaica to refuel and drop off his prisoners; a task made difficult because the number of prisoners equaled the number of crew members.  Semmes men had to sleep on their arms.  Later that evening, the Union warship USS Brooklyn arrived at the site of the battle.  Submerged in 8 feet of water, only the top of Hatteras’ masts protruded from the surface.  Her commission flag was still flying - clear evidence Hatteras had fought honorably.   Hatteras was the only warship Alabama had sunk until her fateful duel off the French coast with the USS Kearsarge.  The sinking of Hatteras, along with Galveston’s recapture, helped keep one of the few Confederate ports in Confederate hands until the end of the war.

 

Santa Anna's Army

                                        Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna

 

The Texas Revolution is mostly known for the courageous deeds of Texas settlers resisting an autocratic Mexican government.  Less is known about the Mexican army they fought.  Collectively designated the “Mexican Army of Operations,” the 6,019 Mexican troops proved a tougher foe than most Texans originally thought.  With minimal food and water, they marched hundreds of miles in desert-like conditions through a territory plagued with hostile Native Americans and one of the worst winters to ever hit Northern Mexico.  In the end, incompetent leadership, politics, and poor logistical support led to the Army of Operations’ defeat.

 

The Mexican Army’s roots lie with its former colonial master, Spain.  After Mexico gained its independence, its army simply kept the tactics of their Spanish forebears.  During the 1830’s, Mexico’s military manuals were exact copies of Spanish manuals that were already dated in 1815.  Innovation was slow in coming, especially in a country where politics could change on a dime.  To make matters worse, government officials were often rife with corruption and shifted their loyalties according to the dictates of their status and income.  The two competing political parties in Mexico were the Centralists, who favored a strong, central government and Federalists, who favored strong, local state governments over the central government in Mexico City.  Straddling this political divide was Mexico’s charismatic leader, Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna.

 

Elected president in 1833, Santa Anna promised democratic reforms.  Instead, he reneged on those promises, establishing a more autocratic, central government instead.  Those who resisted were subject to arrest, imprisonment and execution.  A revolt by the Mexican state of Zacatecas was ruthlessly put down followed by 48 hours of pillaging that appalled the international community.  Texas colonists resisted as well, driving Mexican troops out of San Antonio and securing the city’s one fortified position - The Alamo.  Santa Anna was incensed by the Texans effrontery to his government, deciding to make an example of them.  To do so would require an army of several thousand that would have to be augmented by conscripts often forced to volunteer at gunpoint.   One of Santa Anna’s officers and one of his fiercest critics, Colonel Jose Enrique de la Pena, wrote The Army of Operations was “created by bayonets and now had to be upheld by them.” 

 

Santa Anna’s tactics were based primarily on his hero - Napoleon Bonaparte.  His officers knew that a thorough knowledge of Napoleon’s tactics was a fast tract toward advancement.  He referred to himself as the “The Napoleon of the West” with little regard for innovative tactics and methods outside the French emperor’s dogma.  Santa Anna’s second in command, the Italian-born General Vicente Filial wrote that Santa Anna would “listen to nothing which was not in accord with Napoleon’s ideas.” 

 

The Mexican Army consisted of three branches:

 

1.    The Permanent Troops - regular army infantry and cavalry troops on active duty.

2.    The Active Militia (Milicia Activa) - active, or partialy, active duty militia that included infantry and cavalry units.

3.    The Civic Militia (Milicia Civica) - reserve militia where any male between 18 and 40 could voluntarily enlist or be conscripted by force if necessary.  Used primarily for local police duties or national emergencies.

 

One branch of service that was sorely lacking in Mexico’s wars with Texas and later, the United States, was the Navy.  With a navy, large numbers of troops could have been dispersed on the Texas coast with greater ease than marching them hundreds of miles over difficult terrain.  In addition, it would have deprived Texas of its coastal ports, vital entry points for supplies and volunteers from the United States.

 

Since Mexico had no arms manufacturers, the infantry was armed with imported four foot long, British-made Brown Bess muskets.  The powder flash from the Brown Bess could burn the face of its user, forcing him to shut his eyes while firing.  A residue of gunpowder built up in the barrel that affected the musket’s firing, requiring frequent cleaning.  In some instances, the blockage was removed by simply urinating into the barrel.  To compensate for the musket’s inaccuracy, troops had to fire in concentrated volleys to hit their target, leaving thick clouds of smoke on the battlefield.  The bullet was a massive .753 caliber ball that could knock a man right off his feet.  A bayonet was affixed to its long barrel, making it an effective spear in close combat.   The cavalry was armed with British-made swords, single shot pistols and that most feared of Mexican weaponry, the lance. 

 

           Uniforms varied in color, especially during the period of Santa Anna.  The standard uniform of a Permanent infantryman included white pants and a blue jacket with red piping and a red collar with the regiment number on the collar.  White sashes and a white belt supported an ammunition pouch and bayonet holder.   Topping it off was a conical, visored shako adorned with a red plume and a brass plate of Mexico’s national symbol.  Some units wore all white pants and jackets, more suitable for the warmer summer months.  The cavalry wore red jackets with green breasts and collars.  Headgear was a metal helmet or wide-brimmed, white-banned hat.  Assisting the cavalry were state militias and rancheros from the Northern Mexico states.

 

Through the Catholic Church and private money lenders, Santa Anna financed and then assembled his army at San Luis Potosi in December 1865.  They began their march to San Antonio that same month. Napoleon was quoted as saying “an army marches on its stomach.”  Santa Anna seemed to have little regard for the stomachs of his own army.  Each man carried only one month of rations.  Food caches were established in advance of Santa Anna’s march but they often fell prey to marauding Comanches.  Forage parties and state government provisions had to make up for any food deficits.  Enlisted men were generally poor Indian peasants who were badly uniformed, ill fed and physically abused by officers who embezzled their pay.  Many could not speak Spanish and were more use to the jungle climate of Southern Mexico’s Yucatan Region than the desert regions of Northern Mexico.  The Army of Operations did not have an effective quartermaster corps nor a medical corps.  Instead, the families of the soldiers accompanied them on the march, providing food, medical attention and comfort along the way.  Referred to as Soldaderas, they became an increasing burden as Santa Anna marched north.  The doctors that were on hand were incompetent to the point of being outright “Quacks.”  Despite the doctors’ best efforts, hundreds died of disease and exposure as winter arrived in Northern Mexico.  A blizzard in 1836 dropped over a foot of snow on the line of march, subjecting many to frostbite.  Dead animals, discarded equipment, and broken down wagons lined the march.

 

To transport their supplies, the Army of Operations relied on a train of two-wheeled carts pulled by oxen and the sturdy backs of pack mules.  The skills needed to drive mules made the mule drivers indispensable for Santa Anna’s march.  They had to be paid or else they would leave, taking their mules with them.  To add to the transport problem were the Comanches, who stole from the Mexicans’ horse and cattle herds.   The problem forced Santa Anna to dispatch a division to go after the Comanches.  Straggling soldiers faced an increased risk of being killed and scalped by Indians.

 

Despite the overwhelming hardships, Santa Anna’s troops accomplished their march and inflicted defeats on the Texans at The Alamo and Goliad.  Santa Anna enjoyed superior numbers, but made a fateful decision after capturing San Antonio - he divided his army.  The decision cost him at San Jacinto and forced his troops to retreat back to Mexico.  Nevertheless, the Mexican soldier proved a stalwart opponent dedicated to his country and supportive of its efforts to suppress revolting Texans.   

Astounding Victory: The Davis Guard at Sabine Pass

                                                 Lt. Richard W. "Dick" Dowling

The Civil War produced a number of unlikely heroes on both sides.  One of the most unlikely was a twenty-five year old, auburn-haired Houston bartender with an engaging personality and a talent for artillery.   Like many of his fellow Irish immigrants, Richard W. “Dick” Dowling arrived in the United States with empty pockets and a burning ambition.  With just a sibling for a companion, he sought his fortune in Houston.  Luckily, he married a girl from a prominent Irish Houston family, Annie Odlum.  Annie’s father was Benjamin Odlum, a veteran of the Texas Revolution who held extensive land grants.  Dowling’s marriage helped raise him socially and financially within Houston’s growing Irish community.  His dashing looks and well-honed social graces made him a natural in the hospitality industry.  “The Shades,” the first bar he opened, was a big success.  In 1860, he sold it and opened “The Bank of Bacchus” directly across from the Harris County courthouse.  Houston lawyers and businessmen flocked to “The Bank,” enabling Dowling to start a bathing saloon and liquor importing business.  In his spare time, he created a very popular cocktail drink, “The Kiss Me Quick and Go.”  The recipe and origin of its curious name is not known.  In addition to providing drinks and billiards, “The Bank” served as a meeting hall for various military, political and social organizations, most notably the “Davis Guard” named after Confederate President Jefferson Davis.  The “Davies,” as they were called, were mostly Irish dockworkers with a penchant for fisticuffs, especially after they had a few.  One observer recalled, “They were men of mature years-very few were young-men of brawn and muscle, quiet in manner if treated right, but woe be to you if you offended one of them, you would hear from him in true Irish style.”

President Lincoln kept a wary eye on Texas and wanted an immediate Union presence in the Lone Star State.   The main reason was the worrisome presence of French troops in Mexico, who may decide to align Mexico with the Confederacy or reclaim territory lost during the Mexican War.  In addition, New England textile mills wanted to get their hands on East Texas cotton fields.  Lincoln stated to General Ulysses S. Grant, “I am greatly impressed with the importance of re-establishing the national authority in Western Texas as soon as possible.”  Based in New Orleans, Major General Nathaniel Banks dispatched an armada of four shallow draft gunboats and transport steamers filled with 4,000 troops to land ashore near Fort Griffin.  Under the command of General William B. Franklin, Union troops would capture the fort, cut off the rail line to Beaumont, and then proceed west to capture Houston and Galveston.

Numbering forty-seven men, the Guards were designated Company F, Texas Heavy Artillery.  Dick Dowling was commissioned the company’s lieutenant.  Far from the fighting east of the Sabine, they used their time drilling for any coastal incursions likely to come.  In time they became the best drilled heavy artillery unit in the Confederate Army.  Dowling and his men were assigned to an earthen fort of six guns named Fort Griffin near Sabine City, located at the mouth of the Sabine River.  Reinforced with railroad iron, the fort was ingeniously designed to provide a wide range of fire from the mouth of the river to just offshore from the fort, a 90 degree angle of deadly firepower.  Distance poles or markers were hammered into the river bottom to sight the guns.  One the eve of battle, Dowling told his men, “The Yankees are going to attack us and while I am personally in favor of sticking here and giving them a hot reception, I don’t feel like taking the responsibility of having you all killed or captured, so leave we shall do to you.”  One of the Guards replied, “Oh hell, Lieutenant, I’d rather fight than walk to Sabine City.”  Dowling enthusiastically responded, “That settles it. We’ll fight!”

At On September 8, 1863, at 3:40 PM, the Union gunboat fleet entered the Sabine River and began shelling Fort Griffin, the Guards stayed behind the fort’s walls until the gunboats came closer.  The gunboat fleet consisted of a former Staten Island ferry boat, U. S. S. Clifton, the propeller driven steamer, U. S. S. Sachem, and two captured blockade runners, U. S. S. Arizona and U. S. S. Granite City.  Upon reaching the distance markers, the Sachem received a brutal pounding.  A well placed shot took out her boiler, leaving her, and much the crew, dead in the water.  The Clifton received the same treatment.  A shot took out her tiller ropes, leaving her without the ability to steer.  The well-drilled Guards fired one hundred seven times in thirty minutes - approximately one shot fired in just slightly over a minute.  Both vessels ran aground and were forced to surrender.  The Arizona and Granite City turned around the left the river.  Without gunboat protection, Franklin and his troops were was forced to retreat back to New Orleans in disgrace.  In a remarkable turn of events, a Union invasion force was bested by a Texas bartender and forty-seven Irish dockworkers.  Without suffering a single casualty, the Guards captured two shot up gunboats and three hundred prisoners. 

The Davis Guard became overnight heroes of the Confederacy, especially in the wake of Confederate defeats at Gettysburg and Vicksburg the previous summer.  Major General John Bankhead Magruder, the Commander of the Department of Texas, visited Fort Griffin shortly after the battle to personally extend his congratulations.  Each guard member received a medal made out of a stamped Mexican coin and supported by a green ribbon; the only medals awarded to Confederate troops during the Civil War.  

After the war, Dowling returned to Houston and “The Bank.”  The “Hero of Sabine Pass” became a local celebrity, drawing hundreds of customers to his establishment.  Union occupation soldiers flocked to “The Bank” to catch a glimpse of the legendary Dowling.  One Union officer jokingly paid Dowling for his drink with a captured Confederate bill.  Without hesitation, Dowling accepted it and even gave the officer change.  Dowling also engaged in numerous charitable activities in the Houston area.  Unfortunately, he fell victim to a yellow fever epidemic in 1867.  Before his untimely death at 29, he opened "The Bank" to suffering yellow fever victims, converting it into a hospital.

Today, the site of the Battle of Sabine Pass is memorialized with a stirring monument and historical markers outlining the battle.  The City of Sabine Pass was incorporated decades ago into present day Port Arthur.  No trace of the fort remains today.  A statue was erected in 1905 at Houston’s Hermann Park to honor Dowling but was recently removed, crated and stored in a Houston warehouse.   Port Arthur refuses to let the statue be relocated to the battlefield site.  Unless it’s sold to the highest bidder at auction, placed in a cemetery, or dispatched to a museum willing to accept it, don’t expect it to surface anytime soon. 

Out of sight, out of mind, so goes Texas history.     

Check out Edward T. Cotham Jr.’s fine book, “Sabine Pass, The Confederacy’s Thermopylae"

                                      Houston's Dowling Statue Before Removal

Boone's Redemption

Major Hannibal H. Boone

Acting Master Thomas Lombard Peterson beheld a curious sight as he docked his gunboat, U. S. S. Diana.  A squad of Confederate cavalry, under a flag of truce, had escorted two women to be ferried across Berwick Bay into Union held territory.  The gunboat would be their transport.  In the past, Peterson’s encounters with Confederate troops had been at a comfortable distance, especially after he shelled them along the river bank.  Led by Major Hannibal H. Boone, this group of rebels appeared different - a hard-looking bunch dressed in nondescript, homespun uniforms and wide-brimmed hats adorned with single stars.  Their weapons consisted of shotguns, carbines, Colt revolvers and oversized Bowie knives.  They stared at him like hungry coyotes on a lame jackrabbit.  Unmoved at their presence, a brash Peterson couldn’t resist a verbal exchange.

 

“I have been under the impression, that when a man put on a military uniform, and donned the garb of a soldier, he intended to fight,” he stated.

 

Boone replied, “I have thought it that way myself.”

 

Peterson continued,”You Confederates don’t practice that.  I’ve been over several times to try you, but at the bursting of the first shell you all stampeded.”

 

Unimpressed, Boone asserted, “You have never stampeded me or my men yet.”

 

“You are a new man then, just come in?” Peterson inquired.

 

“Yes sir!  I have just come in today,” Boone answered.

 

Peterson continued badgering the major.  “Well, you mean to say that you are something better than you’ve had there before?”

 

“No sir, I mean to say nothing of the sort.  But I’ll tell you what I mean, and that is that you can’t stampede my men with one shell-nor a dozen shells-only that and nothing more,”  Boone quipped.

 

Peterson took the women on board, telling one of his officers he would “return soon and see if they fought as well as they talked.”

 

Overhearing him, the Major Boone shot back, “Come ahead! We’ll try and interest you.”

 

The Confederates returned to their camp, no doubt eager to face Patterson again on his return.      This time, the Union skipper would face a tougher foe eager for redemption.

 

In 1862, the 13th Texas Cavalry Battalion was organized by Colonel Edwin Waller upon his return from the New Mexico Campaign.  Still under Brigadier General Henry H. Sibley’s inept command, Waller followed him to the bayous of South Louisiana.  The 13th’s arrival did not get off to a glorious start.  At Bonnet Carre, on the Mississippi River, near New Orleans, seven regiments of Union troops, on four steamboats, trapped the Texans on three sides.  Their only escape was through a near impregnable swamp by foot, not horseback.  Humiliation ensued when Waller’s men were forced to abandon their horses and saddles to ecstatic Yankees or kill their mounts outright by slashing their throats.   After slogging miles through bayou country, Waller reassembled his men, now referred to as the “Cane Cart Cavalry” by their jeering Louisiana comrades. 

 

During Mid-March, 1863, Union forces, under Major General Nathaniel Banks, had firm control over New Orleans and its surrounding suburbs.  Located in the Lafourche District, on the Atchafalaya River, Brashear City (now present day Morgan City) was their furthest, northwest point of occupation.  Union troops, under German-born Brigadier General Godfrey Weitzel, kept a wary eye on rebel cavalry patrolling outside his lines.  In addition to his troops, Weitzel had the help of steam-powered gunboats that patrolled Berwick Bay, Grand Lake, and the lower portions of the Atchafalaya River.   The gunboats’ large guns and menacing appearance had a terrifying effect on Confederate troops, who often fled instead of directly confronting them.  The Confederate Commander of Western Louisiana, Major General Richard Taylor, was contemptuous toward the gunboats, calling their actions “snipe-hunting with twelve-pounders.”   Anxious to launch offensive operations, with the ultimate goal of retaking New Orleans, he was dismayed at the fear his Louisiana cavalry had toward the gunboats.  Taylor wanted them captured and added to his small flotilla gathering on Grand Lake and Bayou Teche.  “When gunboats come up those small rivers,” he told his troops, “instead of running off, capture them!”  Writing to his cavalry officers, Taylor further stated, “If you cannot do it, I will send men who can.”  The men he sent were the 13th Texas Cavalry.  

 

Like many Union gunboats, the Diana was a former Confederate merchant steamer captured and then converted into a gunboat and transport for the Union Army.  Partially armored, the side-wheeler was useful in patrolling Louisiana’s narrow bayous and meandering rivers.  Like the other half dozen gunboats patrolling the Louisiana bayous, the Diana went beyond protecting Union troops and taking on Confederate vessels.  Using barges towed from his stern, Peterson would also relieve plantations of their sugar cane.  Like cotton, sugar was in big demand.  Money received for confiscated crops were divided between the Diana’s officers and sailors. 

 

Major Boone and his Texans watched the comings and goings of the Diana; they decided to lay a trap.  Anxious to take on the Texans, Peterson decided to depart from his normal patrol route by steaming up the Atchafalaya toward Pattersonville.  Sixty-nine volunteer, infantry sharpshooters were on board to provide additional firepower.  They would soon wish they stayed at their camp 

 

Twenty-nine year old, Tennessee native, Hannibal Honestus Boone, was a lawyer in Hempstead before the war.  He rose to the rank of major and became Waller’s second in command.  In time, Boone became a feared cavalryman, best avoided in a direct fight.  With the assistance of Texas’ famed Val Verde Battery and the Arizona Cavalry Battalion, Boone arrayed 300 men on both sides of the river hidden in the vegetation.  All were crack shots.  

 

The Diana never had a chance.  Cannon, rifle, and pistol fire riddled the gunboat, killing or wounding a quarter of the 120 men onboard.  Peterson was shot dead through the heart.  Damaged from the gunfire, the Diana could not escape.  After striking her colors, joyous Texans swam over to claim their prize.  They recoiled in horror upon seeing the blood and gore spattered across the deck and walls.  “Every berth was cut to splinters,” wrote a Union survivor.  “Chairs, tables, knives and forks, books, broken glass and china, shattered panels, blood-wet beds, and pools of gore-and the dead and wounded-were everywhere.”  Even six-shooters were used with great effect,” reported a Texas captain.

 

The 13th had their redemption and a gunboat for Taylor’s small flotilla.  The Diana served the Confederate side at the battles of Bisland and Irish Bend.  Running out of navigable waterways, before an advancing Union army, she was scuttled a month after her capture.   

The Woes of Lieutenant Flipper

Lt. Henry Flipper

Lt. Henry Flipper was the first African-American appointed to West Point.  In addition to the brutal discipline meted out at the U.S. Military Academy, Flipper would also suffer through years of racial prejudice in preparation for a military career.  Nothing in his training, however, would prepare him for his experience on the West Texas frontier. 

Henry Flipper was born a slave on March, 1856 in Thomasville, Georgia.  During Reconstruction, Republican Representative James C. Freeman, a former slave master, appointed Henry to attend West Point.  He managed to graduate and received a commission as a second lieutenant, one of a handful of Black commissioned officers.  Eager to serve, he was assigned to one of the four African-American “Buffalo Soldier” regiments in the U. S. Army.    Though it’s not known for sure, the “Buffalo Soldiers” likely got their name from the Cheyenne Indians because of their dark skin and curly hair.  

Flipper’s military career began at Fort Sill in the southwest part of the Indian Territory.  Having a flair for engineering, he drained a malaria ridden swamp by constructing an adjoining drainage ditch.  Known as “Flipper’s Ditch,” it’s still in operation today.  In desperate need of skilled officers, the commander of the “Buffalo Soldiers’” 10th Cavalry,  Colonel Benjamin Grierson, took notice of Henry and transferred him to the 10th Cavalry’s “A” company stationed at Fort Concho, Texas.  

After the Civil War, the U.S. Army was reduced in size to 50,000 men.  Many of them served as occupation troops in the post-war South or guarded the frontier against hostile Native Americans.  Now forced to seek paying jobs, former slaves sought employment in the U.S. Army.  Despite the pressing need for personnel to serve at remote frontier outposts, the organization of Black regiments was almost derailed from the start.  Few recruits were literate due to the stringent, pre-Civil War laws against educating slaves.  The horses they were provided were badly worn from Civil War service and hardly suitable for service of any kind.  Many White officers didn’t want to command African-Americans and were often openly hostile to their presence.  Colonel Benjamin Grierson was one of the rare exceptions; he took command of the 10th Cavalry Regiment upon the request of General Ulysses S. Grant.  

The commander of Ft. Leavenworth was General William Hoffman who hated Blacks and their White officers.  He showed his contempt by assigning the 10th the most flood prone section of the fort.  After their tents flooded, many of them came down with pneumonia.   Not surprisingly, Grierson requested transfer to another post.  The 10th was transferred to Fort Riley, Kansas.  From there, they fanned out to remote postings in West Texas, New Mexico, and the Indian Territory.  Their job was to protect settlers and railroad workers from nomadic bands of Cheyenne, Apache, Kiowas, and Comanches.  Before the late 1870’s, most of the Native Americans in the Southwest were corralled in reservations where they were promised annuities and provisions from the U. S. Government.  The treaties that were supposed to keep them on the reservations were held up in Congress.  Feeling cheated, they left, getting their provisions by raiding farms and hunting buffalo.  Mounted on horses, they were always on the move and extremely elusive.  The Apaches, led by the brilliant Victorio, would cross into Mexico to elude the U.S. cavalry, knowing full well they couldn’t be pursued across an international border.  

Flipper was transferred to Fort Concho near present day San Angelo.  The commander of “A” company was Captain Nicholas M. Nolan, who took a liking to Flipper and taught him the rudiments of commanding cavalry.  Impressed with Flipper, Nolan invited him to dine with him at his quarters, a clear violation of military norms.  From there, Flipper’s career would take  a downward turn.  

It started during the 1880’s after Company “A” was transferred to Fort Elliott in the Texas Panhandle.   Located in the Western Panhandle, near the Oklahoma border, Fort Elliott was established to keep the Comanches from leaving their reservation in the Southwest Indian Territory.  Nearby was the town of Mobeetie; a community that owed its existence and growth to Fort Elliott.  Established in 1879, the town was a seedy collection of buffalo hunters that depended on the fort to protect them from the Comanches.   Things brightened up at the fort with the arrival of Nolan’s sister-in-law.  Being one of the few single females in the Texas Panhandle, Mollie Dwyer quickly attracted the attention of the fort’s unmarried officers.  Nolan’s new adjutant, Lt. Henry Flipper, became friends with Mollie and went horseback riding with her.   Needless to say, such behavior led to accusations of improprieties between Flipper and Dwyer.  A smear campaign against Flipper followed, likely started by those fellow officers Mollie rejected.  To make matters worse, troubles in Mobeetie almost cost him his life.  

Mobeetie, the first established town in the Texas Panhandle, held many opportunities for local businessmen and emerging ranchers.  Federal authorities in Dallas, however, took note of Mobeetie’s growth and the fact that no taxes were being collected nor licenses issued during  the town’s dealings with Fort Elliott.  Armed with a stack of unsigned warrants, Federal Marshal Colonel A. B. Norton and his deputies began arresting the town’s businessmen and government officials, practically depopulating the town.   Those arrested, including the county judge, were incarcerated at the fort before being tried in Dallas for tax evasion.  After a conversation with the judge, Captain Nolan ordered Flipper and two guards to transfer the prisoners to another fort in the Indian Territory, ostensibly to protect them from Norton.  The transfer took place at night without the knowledge of Marshal Norton; who was expecting a whooping fee for his multiple arrests.  Norton rode after the column and arrested Flipper and the two guards.  One of the guards escaped and informed Nolan of the arrests back at the fort.  Worried that his adjutant might be “shot while trying to escape,” Nolan gathered a detachment and pursued Norton.  Catching up with Marshal Norton’s column, Nolan declared the prisoners were now under his protection.  An uneasy journey of Buffalo Soldiers, Federal deputies and Mobeetie’s business community now made their way to Dallas for trial.  All the prisoners, including Flipper, were later acquitted and released

Serving with marked distinction during the Apache Wars, Flipper was assigned to Fort Davis in Southwest Texas.  Fort Davis’ commander, Colonel William R. Shafter, had it in for Flipper.  Shafter asked Flipper to keep the quartermaster safe in his quarters.  Within a few days, $2,000 were found missing from the safe.  Shafter arrested Flipper for embezzlement.  More than likely, Flipper was set-up.  In December 1881, a court-martial found him innocent but found him quilty of “conduct unbecoming an officer and gentlemen.”  Instead of embezzlement, Flipper’s relationship with Mollie Dwyer was used against him.  He was dismissed from the army.  Until his death in 1940, Flipper worked as an engineer and government advisor.  It wasn’t until 1999 that President Bill Clinton pardoned him.