A depiction of La Salle's Texas settlement from Carlos Castañeda's Our Catholic Heritage in Texas (volume l) bearing the misnomer "Fort Saint Louis." How Historical Myths Are Born . . . . . And Why They Seldom Die*
BY DONALD E. CHIPMAN AND ROBERT S. WEDDLE*
Introduction
HEN CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS MADE HIS FIRST LANDFALL ON the fringe of North America, he believed he had reached the WEast Indies. He therefore called the strange people he met "Indians," a name that came to be applied to all American indigenes. In similar manner, inappropriate names—or names misapplied—have risen all across the Americas. When one of these historical errors arises, it takes on a life of its own, though not without a healthy boost from us historians. Historians, of course, come in all stripes, and so do the myths they espouse. Somedmes the most egregious of them may result from the purest intentions. But there is no denying that others are born of impure motives, of which the most prevalent perhaps is chauvinism—bending his- tory out of shape by falsely linking some major historic episode to one's native province. Mostly, however, such miscues arise from the urgency to provide answers—an explanation, a name, or an opinion—before the facts at hand justify it. For example, consider the various identities posited for the river shown on the famous "Pineda" map sketch (ca. 1519) as El Rio del Espíritu Santo. Was it the Mississippi as it has been long thought to be, or some other stream, perhaps as far east as Florida or as far west as Texas? Still
* Donald E. Chipman is Emeritus Professor of History at the University of North Texas; Robert S. Weddie is an independent scholar in Bonham, Texas. Both authors are Fellows of the Texas State Histori- cal As.sociation (TSHA), and both have been knighted in the Order of Isabel la Católica by King Juan Carlos I for their work on Spain in America. The introduction is by Weddle and the first three essays are by Chipman; the following three and the afterword are by Weddle. The authors wish to thank Ryan R. Schumacher, Associate Editor of the Southwestern Historical Quarterly (SHQ), and Randolph B. "Mike" Campbell, Editor of the SHQ_and Chief Historian of the TSHA, for their assistance with this article.
VOL. CXVI, N0.3 SOUTHWESTERN HISTORICAL QUARTERLY JANUARY 2013 2 28 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January others have thought it to be Galveston Bay, or Mobile Bay, or perhaps Sabine Pass.' A popular pastime for historians, amateur and professional alike, seems to be tracing the route of historical expeditions, two of which are among the essays appearing herein: those of Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca and Luis Moscoso Alvarado. If all attempts to follow these two explorers were laid out on a single Texas map, it would appear that they traversed half of the state's 254 counties. Yet none of us historians can be held completely blameless, because no one can read all the material available on any given topic. Accordingly, none of us is immune from what seems at the time like a profound decla- ration, only to be blindsided by someone who has found that one missing piece we overlooked. Furthermore, "new" material becomes available all the time. And just when we think we might have it all, here comes a new article or book with a raft of new data; so it behooves everyone who asserts anythingYiith supreme confidence to develop a taste for crow.
Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca in Texas
There is a mistaken and somewhat persistent belief that the Spanish explorer, Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca, after landing on or near Galveston Island in early November 1528, traveled a trans-Texas route in reaching the environs of present-day El Paso. Advocates of this route interpretation maintain that Cabeza de Vaca and three companions, together known to history as the Four Ragged Castaways, did not enter the interior of Mexico at any time prior to their crossing the Rio Grande in spring 1535.^ First impressions in the United States of Cabeza de Vaca's journey came from Buckingham Smith (1851 and 1873), Hubert H. Bancroft (1884), and Adolph Bandelier (1890)—all based on their reading of Cabeza de Vaca's published Relación {Account) of his experiences in North America. None suggested a coastal route interpretation or a crossing of the lower Rio Grande.^
' Jean Delanglez, El Rio del Espíritu Santo: An Essay on the Cartography of the Gulf Coast and the Adjacent Territory during the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries (New York: The United States Catholic Historical Society, 1945), 132-145; Peter J. Hamilton, "Was Mobile Bay the Bay of Espiritu Santo?" Transactions: iSç^-igo^, vol. 4 (Montgomery; Alabama Historical Society, 1904), 73-79; Paul Hoffman, "Discovery and Early Cartography of the Northern Culf Coast," in Charting Louisiana: Five Hundred Years of Maps, eds. Alfred E. Lemmon, John T. Magill, and Jason E. Wiese (New Orleans; The Historic New Orleans Collection, 2003), 10-11. See Robert S. Weddle, Spanish Sea: The Gulf of Mexico in North American Discovery, 1^00—168^ (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1985), 105, for positive identification of Rio del E.spiritu Santo as the Mississippi. -' To accord with other usage of the Spanish word "Rio" in this article, such as in "Rio Panuco" or "Rio de las Palmas," this article uses an accent in "Rio Grande," although it is usually omitted in English usage. ' Buckingham Smith (trans.). The Narrative of Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca (Washington, D.C.; [George W. Riggs], 1851); Buckingham Smith (trans.), Relation of Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca ([Albany, N.Y.: J. Munsell for H. C. Murphy]; 1871); Hubert H. Bancroft, History of North Mexican States and Texas (2 vols.; 2015 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 229
Then, beginning in January 1898 and concluding in January 1919, five route interpretations for Cabeza de Vaca in Texas were published in tbe Quarterly of the Texas State Historical Association. (The Quarterly of the Texas State Historical Association has been known as the Southwestern Historical Quarterly since 1912.) Three of the five articles lent support to a trans- Texas pathway for the Castaways. In all, the articles totaled an impressive 319 pages of text and notes. Perhaps the most bizarre is a three-part essay by Judge Bethel Coopwood, but to Coopwood's credit he was the first to propose a route for Cabeza de Vaca that followed the inner Texas coast en route to Mexico.'' Harbert Davenport and Joseph K Wells authored the last of the five articles. Their route interpretation for Cabeza de Vaca started southwest of Galveston Island and continued along an inner coastal route past Corpus Christi Bay to a crossing of the lower Rio Crande in the vicin- ity of modern-day Reynosa, Tamaulipas.' The authors set forth the most scholarly basis for the route of Cabeza de Vaca and his companions, and it might well have remained the prevailing view to this day. However, his- torians and non-historians over the next several decades traced a route from near Galveston Island to the Guadalupe River and then projected a westward route entirely within Texas. Much of the long-range impetus for a trans-Texas route interpretation came primarily from Robert T. Hill and Carlos E. Castañeda, both writing in the early to mid-i93os. Hill, without question a distinguished geologist, was incensed by the publication of Morris Bishop's The Odyssey of Cabeza de Vaca in 1933. Bishop, a professor of Romance Languages at Cornell University, was much impressed by Cabeza de Vaca and his travels in North and South America. The Cornell professor wrote a breezy narrative about Cabeza de Vaca, spiced with imaginary dialogue, and he made no attempt to advance a new route interpretation. Instead, Bishop accepted the con- clusions of Davenport and Wells set forth some fourteen years earlier.^ When Hill realized that a significant portion of Cabeza de Vaca's travels
San Francisco: History Co., 1884-1889); A. F. Bandelier, Hemenway Southwestern Archaeological Expedition: Contributions to the History of the Southwestern Portion of the United States (Cambridge, Mass.: John Wilson & Son, 1890) ^ See especially Bethel Coopwood, 'The Route of Cabeza de Vaca," Quarterly of the Texas State HisUmcal Association (hereafter cited as QTSHA) 3 (October 1899): 108—140; (January 1900): 177-208; (April 1900): 177-264, map between 192 and 193; 4 (July 1900): 1—32; see also Brownie Ponton and Bates H. McFarland, "Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca: A Preliminary Report on His Wanderings in Texas," QTSHA 1 (January 1898): 166-186; O. W. Williams, "Route of Cabeza de Vaca in Texa.s," QTSHA 3 (July 1S99): 54-64; and James N. Baskett, "A Study of tlie Route of Cabeza de Vaca," QTSHA 10 (January 1907); 246—279; (April 1907): 308-340. ' Harbert Davenport and Joseph K. Wells, 'The First Europeans in Texas, 1528-1536," Southwestern Historical Quarterly 22 (October 1918): 111-142, 22 (January 1919): 205—259. '' Morris Bishop, The Odyssey of Cabeza de Vaca (New York: Century Co., 1933). See map between 32 and 33, and acknowledgments wherein Bishop praised Davenport and Wells for their reconstruction of Cabeza de Vaca's route in North America, which "may serve as a model of shrewd and thorough study of 230 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January had been moved from Texas to Mexico, it proved intolerable for him. For some years he had become convinced that all previous route interpreta- tions for Cabeza de Vaca had been wrong. Why? Because "I personally was familiar with geographic and geologic features . . . through which the . . . [Castaways] traveled and the historians were not so." In twenty- two impassioned discourses that appeared in the Dallas Morning News {1933-34), Hill likened moving Cabeza de Vaca out of much of Texas to placing Pocahontas and John Smith in Ohio. He then chastised historians and other Texans for allowing anyone to take away "Cabeza's [sic] Texas citizenship." He then railed against citizens of his adopted state who had allowed themselves to "sit complacently by and see the very beginnings of our history taken from us... [and] transferred across the Rio Crande into a foreign country, Mexico."' In the final installment of Hill's newspaper articles, December 30, 1934, the eminent geologist could scarcely contain his excitement. He had received a letter from an unspecified history professor at the University of Texas. "Professor X" was almost certainly Charies W. Hackett, one of the most respected and accomplished scholars in the university's Department of History. The unnamed professor informed Hill that he had accepted his route interpretation and would teach it his classes.** Hackett would later direct the M.A. thesis (1939) of Albert C. Williams, entitled 'The Route of Cabeza de Vaca in Texas: A Study in Historiography. " In his thesis, Williams accepted Hill's route interpretation and regarded it as "fundamentally unitary in nature, being based on the geologic evi- dences primarily." But the young M.A. student admitted that the two- part article by Davenport and Wells in the Southwestern Historical Quarterly (SHQ) most closely avoided contradicting Cabeza de Vaca's Relación.^ By then, the first volume of Carlos E. Castañeda's Our Catholic Heritage in Texas had been published in 1936. Castañeda, like Hackett, was also a professor in the Department of History at the University of Texas. He acknowledged the work of Davenport and Wells as the "most detailed and scholarly" in print and accepted their work in placing Cabeza de Vaca on the Guadalupe River by spring 1533. However, from that point on. Castañeda adopted Hill's trans-Texas route—through present-day Austin, San Antonio, Del Rio, Presidio, and on to the vicinity of El Paso.'"
historical problems." Cabeza de Vaca would later trek some l ,200 miles of uncharted territory from the coast of Brazil to modern-day Asunción, Paraguay, in fall 1541. See also Baker H. Morrow (trans.) The South American Expeditions, 1^40-1^4^ (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2011 ). ' Robert T. Hill, Dallas Morning News, ]u\y 2, 1933. ^ Ibid.. Dec. 30, 1934. ' Albert C. Williams, 'The Route of Cabeza de Vaca in Texas: A Study in Historiography" (M.A. thesis. University of Texas, 1939). 86 (quotations). 87. '" Carlos E. Castañeda, Our Catholic Heritage in Texas, i^it^—ig^ó (7 vols.; Atistin: Von Boeckman-Jones, 1936-1958). 1: 69-80. 2O13 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They SeldomDie 231
Hill's articles in the Dallas Morning Neius have never been widely read or cited by scholars, and certainly not by the general reading public, but Hackett and Castañeda have had tremendous influence on the teaching and writing of Texas history. Through them the blatant Texas nationalism of Hill has influenced history textbooks read by thousands of Texas school children. And there was worse to come. In 1940 Cleve Hallenbeck, a meteorologist, scientist, and writer, pub- lished the first book-length study of Cabeza de Vaca's route in Texas. Hallenbeck's trans-Texas route started on the Texas coast well southwest of Galveston Island, passed through contemporary Austin, dipped south near San Antonio, looped far north through Big Spring, and ended up south of El Paso. It was a dream-come-true pathway for many Texas nation- alists, because it placed Cabeza de Vaca and the other Castaways in so many counties." Since no one can say with absolute certainty exactly where Cabeza de Vaca went during his some six years in Texas, it is easy to regard all attempts at determining or mapping his course of travel as equally valid. Where this approach breaks down most notably are in claims made by Texas nationalists and local boosters. The late Dan Kilgore, native of Corpus Christi and former president of the TSHA, once told me he had counted roughly half of Texas's 254 counties that have claimed Cabeza de Vaca's presence on their soil. In an extreme instance, a man from Big Spring, Texas, much taken with Hallenbeck's route interpretation, insisted that Cabeza de Vaca had trekked down the left side of what would later became the town's main street—Kilgore admitted he was uncertain of the man's perspective when he determined that it was the "left side" of the town's thoroughfare. So, if readers can accept such assertions as patently absurd, then it makes sense to explore both motives and probabilities with regard to Cabeza de Vaca's peregrinations. Furthermore, due to the efforts of anthropolo- gists, archaeologists, geographers, and linguists, there is now more recent evidence that Cabeza de Vaca crossed the lower Rio Grande into Mexico near the present-day Falcon International Reservoir, and that he did not follow a trans-Texas route. The most reliable analysis of Cabeza de Vaca's trek across portions of the future Lone Star State was and still is that of anthropologist Alex D. Krieger. However, for some years Krieger's work remained unpublished. His Spanish-language manuscript had been submitted as a Ph.D. disser- tation to the faculty of the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México
' ' eleve Hallenbeck, Alvar Núñez Cabeza d£ Vaca: The Journey and Route of the First European to Cross the Continent of North America, 795.^—7956 (Glendale, Calif.: Arthur H. Clark Co., 1940), 119-127, 136-140, 147-171, 175-179- 232 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January
in 1955. Shordy thereafter, the then-named Barker Texas History Center (now the Dolph Briscoe Center for American History) in Austin obtained a purplish, blurred mimeographed copy of Krieger's dissertation that I read with great interest in the i98os.'^ When compared to the multiple route interpretations for Cabeza de Vaca that had appeared in the late nineteenth century, in the SHQ^ in the aforemendoned volume by Carlos E. Castañeda, and the newspaper opinion pieces written by Hill, Krieger's dissertation struck me as the very essence of reason." The start of Cabeza de Vaca's experiences in Texas began on a cold November morning in 1528 when two makeshift rafts bearing him and around ninety others landed on or to the west of Galveston Island. The craft were part of five that bore survivors of the Panfilo de Narváez expedidon that had left the northwest coast of Elorida the previous September 22.''' Narváez's contract from the king, dated December 11, 1526, had granted him settlement and colonizadon rights along the Gulf Coast from the Florida peninsula to the Rio de las Palmas.'^ The Spanish cap- tain decided to separate three hundred men from his support vessels after landing on the Florida coast near Tampa Bay on April 15, 1528. Due to a gross misunderstanding of geography, Narváez believed the Rio de las Palmas lay only thirty to forty-five miles to the north, when the actual dis- tance via the coast was approximately 1,500 miles.'^ What followed for Narváez's command was permanent separation from its support vessels and appalling fatalities, during which less than 1.5 percent of the men would reach Spanish-settled regions in Mexico. Stranded and attacked by Indians in Florida, survivors constructed five rafts. When put to sea from near the mouth of the Wakulla River in the Florida Panhandle, the closest known Spanish outpost was the small town
'- Alex D. Krieger, "Un nuevo estudio de la ruta seguida por Cabeza de Vaca a través de Norte América" (Ph.D. diss.. Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México, 1955). '* Castañeda, Catholic Heritage in Texas,i: 69-81; James A. Michener, Texas (New York: Random House, 1985), 12, map; DallasMomingNews,]\i\y 2, 9, 16, 23, 30, Aug. 20, 27, Sept. 10, 17, 24, Oct. 8, 15, 22, 29, Nov. 5, 19, 1933; Feb. lS, Mar. 4, 11, May 27,June 10, Dec. 30, 1934. ^•^ There are to this day those who assert that the 1528 landing of the first two rafts was on Galveston Island. They may be correct, but barring archaeological evidence to the contrary, a somewhat more likely site was a landform in the Brazosport area named Follets Island, formerly known a.s Velasco Peninsula. See W. L. Fisher, J. H. McGowen, L. F Brown Jr., and C. G. Groat, Environmental Geologic Atlas of the Texas Coastal Zone—Galveston—Houston Area (Austin: Bureau of Economic Geology, University of Texas at Austin, 1972), Map II—Physical Properties Map. The other rafts made landfalls farther down the coast near the mouths of the San Bernardo River and Caney Creek and on Matagorda Island. All aboard those craft soon perished. See Andrés Reséndez, A Land So Strange: The Epic Journey of Cabeza de Vaca (New York: Perseus, 2007), especially map of landing sites on 128. " Rolena Adorno and Patrick Charles Pautz, Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca: His Account, His Life, and the Expedition of Panfilo de Narváez (3 vols.; Lincoln, University of Nebraska Press, 1999), 1: 372. See the cor- rect location of the Rio de las Palmas herein this article. " Reséndez, A Land So Strange, 82-84. 2O13 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 233 of Santiesteban del Puerto at the mouth of Rio Panuco.'^ The jury-rigged log platforms rose only six inches above Gulf waters when boarded by just fewer than 250 men of the original 300.'" It was therefore impera- tive that the Spanish sail along the Gulf Coast as close as possible to its shoreline. After making Texas landfalls some six weeks later, at no time was there a motive among the Spaniards other than to follow the coast until they reached Santiesteban del Puerto, whether by sea or land. Their intent must be kept in mind in searching for the overall route followed by Cabeza de Vaca and three other survivors of the Narváez expedition— Alonso del Castillo, Andrés Dorantes, and the African slave, Estevanico.'^ Shortly after the two rafts beached on the island Cabeza de Vaca named La Isla de Malhado (The Isle of Misfortune) the Spanish, by then believ- ing they were surely close to Santiesteban del Puerto, chose five robust men, all excellent swimmers, and sent them down the coast to seek aid. Those men were killed by Texas Indians. The remaining Spaniards and at least one African decided to winter on Malhado, during which all but fifteen of them died of exposure and disease.^" In late 15 28 or early 1529, Cabeza de Vaca left Malhado to visit the nearby mainland where he fell seriously ill but eventually recovered. Meanwhile, Indians who regularly canoed to the island apparently reported his death. Of the fourteen remaining survivors on Malhado, twelve set out later in the spring to head down the Texas coast filled with inlets and the mouths of creeks and rivers. Nine of that number would perish, leaving the afore- mentioned Castillo, Dorantes, and Estevanico among Coahuiltecan tribes who enslaved them. Cabeza de Vaca, on recovering his health, returned to Malhado to find only two Spaniards there. The men had refused to leave with the larger party, primarily because they did not know how to swim. For the next four years, 1529-33, Cabeza de Vaca lived on the mainland in all seasons except winter, when he returned to Malhado. During that time, he was enslaved for about a year by unidentified Indians who badly mistreated him, worked him mercilessly, and kept him naked so he would be less inclined to run away. Once he escaped, he remained free among other Indians by treating their illnesses with considerable success.^'
" This is the location of present-day Tampico, Tamaulipas. " Alex D. Kdeger, We Came Naked and Barefoot: The Journey of Cabeza de Vaca across North America, ed. Margery H. Kiieger (Austin; University of Texas Press, 2002), 25. '^ Donald E. Chipman and Harriett Denise Joseph, Spanish Texas, i^ig—1821 (rev. ed.; Austin; Univer- sity of Texas Press, 2010), 29-30. "" See Matthew S. Taylor, "Cabeza de Vaca and the Introduction to Disease in Texas," Southwestern His- torical Quarterly 111 (April 2008); 419-427. " Enrique Pupo-Walker (ed.) and Frances M. López-Morillas (trans.). Castaways: The Narrative of Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca (Berkeley; University of California Press, 1993), 49—52. 234 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January
With freedom to move about. Cabeza de Vaca became Texas's first mer- chant, and as such traveled inland. He carried with him sea shells, some sharp enough to cut open mesquite beans, and what he called "beads of the sea"—probably pearls. In the interior, he traded his wares for buf- falo skins and red ochre, much prized by coastal Indians for body decora- tions.'^^ It is not possible to determine how far Cabeza de Vaca's inland travels took him, and any claims of his presence in Texas counties are purely speculative. It is certain that he regularly returned to Malhado in cold weather for nearly four years, because he refused to abandon the two Spaniards who remained there. By around late 1532, one of the survivors on Malhado had died, and Cabeza de Vaca early the following year convinced the other man. Lope de Oviedo, to accompany him along the coast toward Panuco. He did so by promising to take the man on his back when they had to cross water- ways and inlets. The two men followed the same course as the other survi- vors some four years earlier. En route, Oviedo, frightened by Indians who threatened to kill him and afraid of drowning, soon turned back in the company of some Indian women and disappeared from history.^' Cabeza de Vaca continued on and arrived near the mouth of a stream he called the "river of nuts," now the Guadalupe. There he was reunited with three astonished former companions, Castillo, Dorantes, and Estevanico, who had believed him dead for four years. The three men were slaves of Coahultecan Indians, a circumstance soon experienced by Cabeza de Vaca. He was claimed by the Mariâmes, who also held Dorantes captive. Don Alvar would spend the next eighteen months v«th these Indians. Again, it is impossible to know where he traveled in Texas, other than to say that as a slave of Coahuiltecans he went where they ranged.^'' After a year and half as a captive. Cabeza de Vaca and the three others fled south toward the Rio Grande where they found safety among friendly Avarares Indians, who lived north of the Great River. At no time until they had crossed the Rio Grande did the four men consider any pathway other than to follow the coast until they reached the Spanish settlement at Santiesteban del Puerto. Once south of the Great River, on the advice of Indians, they were urged to go west and thereby avoid facing other shoreline Indians. So they traveled westward "among Indians who were treating them well and seemed to have plenty of food." After crossing northern Mexico, the Four Ragged Castaways entered Texas
^ Adorno and Pautz, Cabeza de Vaca, i : 121. ^'Ibid., 123, 125. " See T. N. Campbell and T. J. Campbell, Historic Indian Groups of the Choke Canyon Reservoir and Sur- rounding Area, Southern Texas (San Antonio: Center for Archaeological Research, 1981), 2. The authors place the range of Indian groups named by Cabeza de Vaca in the Three Rivers area between present-day San Antonio and Alice. 2013 How Historical Myths Are Born . . .And Why They Seldom Die 235 again at La Junta de los Ríos.^^ After resting for a time, they marched up the Texas side of the Rio Grande for seventeen days before re-crossing the river south of modern-day El Paso and leaving Texas for the last time.
Significantly, Cabeza de Vaca mentioned the names of twenty-three Indian groups in Texas in his Relación that can be linked with the inner coastal plain from near Galveston Island to Falcon Lake, but he recorded no group names for the remainder of his travels, which ended in Mexico City. Had he named "at least some . . . [in] northeastern Mexico. ... a trans-Texas route probably would not have been suggested by anyone. "^^ That, of course, is far from what happened. To counter proponents of Cabeza de Vaca's trans-Texas pathway, the late Thomas N. Campbell, one the "giants" of Texas anthropology, and his daughter. Tommy Jo Campbell, a linguistics specialist, published what can properly be called a refinement of Alex D. Krieger's route interpretation. The Campbells synthesized Indian data from all Spanish primary sources, as well as terrain and biota descriptions made by Cabeza de Vaca. Once completed, it became apparent to the senior Campbell and his daughter that those who advocate a totally trans-Texas route must by necessity move Indians contacted by Cabeza de Vaca to parts of the state where "they obvi- ously never lived." To suggest otherwise, argued T. N. Campbell, was to send Cabeza de Vaca where route interpreters wanted him to go.^' There is further evidence to substantiate a coastal route to Mexico for Cabeza de Vaca by identifying in Texas enormous stands of prickly pear cactus mentioned by him. In Davenport and Wells's article in the S//Q, the authors identified the "Land of Tunas" described by don Alvar, as having existed in the present-day counties of Kleberg, Jim Wells, Duval, Live Oak, and Nueces. Those cacti, however, no longer existed in the twentieth cen- tury, having been wiped out by a killing freeze in 1899. South of that region and beyond the inner coastal sand plain lay even more abundant stands of cactus that grew along the lower Rio Grande in Hidalgo, Starr, and Cameron counties.^" As for archaeological evidence of a lower Rio Grande crossing near Falcon Lake, there are the words of anthropologist Thomas R. Hester, written in the foreword of the published version of Alex D. Rrieger's route interpretation: "While I differ slightly with him [Krieger] on some mat- ters, it is clear that his overall analysis of Cabeza de Vaca's travels through
'^•' Ibid., 9. The present-day towns of Presidio, Texas, and Ojinaga. Chihuahtia, are situated at the junc- tion of the Rio Conchos and Rio Grande. ^' Campbell and Campbell, Historic Indian Groups, 9. " T. N. Campbell to Donald E. Chipman, Apr. 16, 1983, letter (in possession of the author). ^ Davenport and Wells, "First Europeans in Texas," 208—210. 236 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January
Texas is largely verified by present archaeological evidence .... This is especially true in the placement of Cabeza de Vaca's entry into north- eastern Mexico around present-day Falcon Reservoir. "^^ There are also geographic indicators, that support a Rio Grande crossing in that locale. Within a day of fording the Great River, Cabeza de Vaca reported seeing mountains in the distance. These were the Sierra de Cerralvo in northern Nuevo León. Finally, there is the field work of Donald W. Olson at Texas State University (TSU) in San Marcos, also published in the SHQ. Cabeza de Vaca mentioned eating an extremely rare variety of piñón nuts in north- ern Mexico. They had such thin shells that he and his companions ate them whole. Olson, his wife Marilynn S. Olson, and students at TSU found Pinus remota (paper-shell piñón) still grov\dng in mountains near Monclova, Coahuila.^" Cabeza de Vaca described these nuts, which were given to him by Indians, in his Relación. I find the evidence for a southern, inner coastal route followed by Cabeza de Vaca from on or near Galveston Island to a crossing of the lower Rio Grande in the region of Falcon International Reservoir compelling. That pathway is consistent with don Alvar's stated intent to reach Spanish settlements in Mexico by following the coast. It is a route interpretation supported by ethnographic data recorded by the man, by his descriptions of terrain and plant life, and by current archaeological findings. Most con- temporary writers no longer assert a trans-Texas route interpretation for Cabeza de Vaca and his three companions. However, there are those who still insist it is valid, or perhaps choose to make no distinctions whatsoever, despite recent scholarship.^'
Staked Plains
One of the most persistent errors in Texas is to translate the Spanish words Llano Estacado as "Staked Plains." And yet they are often so pro- nounced in the popular media of television and cinema. Worse, this misnomer appeared in a work published by a major university press as recently as 201 o.^^ The Diccionario de la lengua española is the unchallenged source and final arbiter of what words mean in Spanish, or more precisely
^ Thomas R. Hester, foreword to Krieger, We Came Naked and Barefoot, xi. '" Donald W. Olson Marilynn S. Olson, Russell L. Doescher, Lance L.Lambert, David E. Lemke, Angela M. Carl, Ross Johnson, Sandra D. Smith, and Kent H. Trede, "Piñón Pines and the Route of Cabeza de Vaca," Southwestern Historical Quarterly loi (October 1997): 176 (map). 182-186. " See Nancy P. Hickerson, The fumanos: Hunters and Travelers of the South Plains (Austin: tjniversity of Texas Press, 1994). 3-14. map on 9; and A. Ray Stephens, Texas: A Historical Atlas (Normiai: University of Oklahoma Press, 2010), 37. '^ Stephens, Texas, A Historical Atlas, 38, 39. 2O13 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 257 the Castilian language. Published by the Real Academia in Madrid, the Diccionario lists estacado at the past participle of the transitive verb estacar. Used as an adjective, estacado/da means, in English translation, "any work made of stakes stuck in the ground for defense" (cualquier obra hecha de estacas clavadas en la tierra para defensa.Y^ So, yes, estacas mean "stakes," but they are used in the context of forming a palisade or stockade. So, where did "Staked Plains" come from, and why do some histori- ans continue to use this misnomer? In his widely read Coronado: Knight of Pueblos and Plains (1949), Herbert E. Bolton argued that "Llano Escatado" was later mistranslated into "Staked Plains" by Anglo Americans with limited knowledge of Spanish. To quote Bolton: "[This misuse] com- pletely misses the point of the Spanish designation. They were called the Stockaded Plains from the rim-rock which at a distance looks like a stone fortification."'* Perhaps "Staked Plains" résonants in the ears of Texans better than "Stockaded or Palisaded" plains, but anyone writing anything on Coronado and the Llano must surely be aware of Bolton's classic study of the man and his expedition. This mistranslation, fortunately, does not appear in the highly respected works of John Miller Morris, in those of the late David J. Weber, or, more recently, in the exhaustive studies of Coronado by Richard and Shirley Flint.'*-^ The first Spanish explorer of record to view the Llano Estacado was, of course, Francisco Vázquez de Coronado who approached it from the west in spring 1541. In all the literature addressing that historic expedi- tion, the most scholarly and sensible approach appeared in 1997 with the publication of Morris's award-winning book. El Llano Estacado. Perhaps exasperated by so many route interpretations (nine are depicted on one map), Morris suggested that: "If all the scholars and all the evidence still deny the Llano a Coronado trail, then we must look for another way: a Coronado Corridor.""' Some route interpreters had maintained that Coronado followed a trans-Canadian River trail that bypassed the Llano, which Morris dis- missed as their having completely misinterpreted "the abundant environ-
^^ Diccionario de la lengua española (Madrid: Real Academia Española, 1992), 638. ^ Herbert E. Bolton, Coronado: Knight of Pueblas and Plains (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 1949), 243. ^ See David J. Weber, The Spanish Frontier in North America (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press, 1992); John Miller Morris, El Llano Estacado: Exploration and Imagination on the High Plains of Texas and New Mexico, 1^^6—1860 (Austin: Texas State Historical Association. 2003); Richard Flint and Shirley Cushing Flint, The Coronado Expedition to Tierra Nueva: The 1^40-1^42 Route Across the Southwest (Niwot: University of Colorado Press, 1997); Richard Flint and Shirley Cushing Flint (trans, and eds.). Documents of the Cœv- nado Expedition, 7539—75.^2; "They Were Not Familiar with His Majesty, nor Did They Wish to Be His Subjects" (Dallas: Southern Methodist University Press, 2005); and Richard Flint, No Settlement, No Conquest: A His- tory of the Coronado Entrada (Albuquerque: University of New Mexico Press, 2008). ^ Morris, El Llano Estacado, 45. Map is on p. 41. 238 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January mental commentary to the contrary." He followed by stating that "there is a wholeness to the expedition narratives that points directly to the Llano."" Morris, in accord with other writers, agreed that Coronado left winter headquarters among the Pueblo Indians near present-day Bernalillo, New Mexico, and marched east, where he constructed a bridge over the Pecos River. It is remarkable, especially given the great diversity of proposed wanderings don Francisco supposedly made thereafter, that all route interpreters agree on this one location. Morris then placed the Coronado Corridor to the south of present-day U.S. Interstate 40 between Tucumcari, New Mexico, and Amarillo, Texas. The corridor's location is important, because it would have afforded a more striking view of the Llano than is evident from the interstate. But from either perspective, the western rim of the elevated plain appears to rise in the east as though supported by columns of rocks. And, from that view came words to describe what lay ahead—the Llano Estacado, the Stockaded, not Staked Plain. But suppose, as some suggest. Coronado drove stakes in the ground to mark his progress. Where would those stakes have come from? Coronado described the Llano in a letter written to his king, the Emperor Charles V, on October 20, 1541. The date is so shortly after Coronado had experi- enced crossing and re-crossing part of the immense plain that his "report- age of time is widely respected."'^** The explorer wrote: "After nine days' march I reached some plains, so vast that I did not find their limit any- where that I went, although I traveled over them for more than three hundred leagues [more than 900 miles]. . . . [These plains had] no more landmarks than as if we had been swallowed up by the sea, . . . because there was not a stone, nor a bit of rising ground, nor a tree, nor a shrub, nor anything to go by."'' Not surprisingly. Coronado directed his march by compass. One of his chroniclers penned these words about the frighten- ing sameness of the Llano: "Es la tierra tan liana que se pierdan los hombres apartándose media legua" (It is land so level that men lost themselves by straying off half a league) .*" One might think that those who found them- selves in this circumstance could have followed trampled grass back to their starting point, but that was not possible. Instead, the grass instantiy straightened itself as though nothing had passed through it. Elsewhere, in all his time on the Llano, Coronado reported that he saw "nothing
" Ibid. »' Ibid. ^^ Randolph B. Campbell (ed.), Texas Voices: Documents from Texas History (New York; Worth Publishers, 1997), 5. The Spanish league is often regarded as 2.6 miles, butin the sixteenth century, its equivalent in miles was approximately three. " Morris, El Llano Estacado, 46. 2013 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 239
but cattle [bison] and sky.'"" If readers of a scholarly article can tolerate a whimsical play on words, the only "steaks" on the Llano rode on the hooves of bison. Once picked up and placed in general works, the mistranslation of Llano Estacado has been repeated, even in publications of the Texas State Historical Association (TSHA). For example. Staked Plains is cross-refer- enced in the two-volume Handbook of Texas (1952) to Llano Estacado. In that entry, H. Bailey Carroll commented as follows: "The Spanish name Llano Estacado is ordinarily translated into English as Staked Plain, but there is no general agreement in Texas concerning the original meaning of the term." Carroll acknowledged that estacado could be translated as "staked" but could also mean palisaded or possibly stockaded.''^ In the six-volume New Handbook of Texas (NHOT, 1996) there is no refer- ence to Staked Plains, but the entry on Llano Estacado by Art Leatherwood begins vdth these words: 'The Llano Estacado (Staked Plains), the south- ern extension of the High Plains of North America.'"" However, in the NHOT online version, one can clearly see evidence of an emendation— one of the great advantages of electronic text over the printed page, and a testament to the continuing efforts of TSHA staff members to edit and correct NHOT entries on the basis of ongoing research: "The Llano Estacado, commonly known as the Staked Plains but perhaps more accu- rately interpreted as the "palisaded" plains in geological terms.'""^ I believe there is no "perhaps" in the Spanish context for estacado. By adding words in the NHOT online version that call attention to its mis- translation by Anglo Americans, this misnomer should not appear in future publications. My contention is reassuringly supported by the omis- sion of "Staked Plains" in the works of Richard and Shirley Flint, John Miller Morris, and David J. Weber.
The Rio de las Palmas and the Rio Grande The "crown jewel" of Texas historical mistakes has been the misidenti- fication and confusion of the Rio Grande with the Rio de las Palmas and the Rio Panuco, especially by Carlos E. Castañeda in volume 1 of his Our Catholic Heritage in Texas (1936). This unwitting error in geography and history appeared in perhaps the largest single published compendium of Spanish Texas materials in existence. It would later influence Paul Horgan
^' Bolton, Coronado, 249. *' Walter Prescott Webb and H. Bailey Carroll (eds.). The Handbook of Texas (2 vols.; Austin: The Texas ' State Historical Association, 1952), 2: 70, 656. •" Ron Tyler, Douglas E. Barnett, Roy R. Barkley, Penelope C. Anderson, and Mark F. Odintz (eds.), The New Handbook of Texas (6 vols.; Austin: Texas State Historical Association, 1996), 4: 250. '* "Llano Estacado,"
•*-^ Paul Horgan, (3reat River: The Rio Grande in North American History (2 vois.; New York: Rinehart Sc Company. 1954), I. 83-93. ^ See Donald E. Chipman. "Alonso Alvai'ez de Pineda and the Rio de las Palmas: Scholars and the Mislocation of a River," Southwestern Historical Quarterly 98 (January 1995): 282-283. •" Primary school students also study Texas history in the fourth grade, but their reading materials are much more elementary. A survey of the four most recently adopted textbooks for seventh-grade students in Texas found that all had varying bollixed information on the correct spelling of Pineda's name, on the possible locations of his colony in 1520, or on the three rivers discussed in this essay. See Lone Star: TheStory of Texas (Upper Saddle River, NJ.: Prentice Hall), 2003, 62; Celebrating Texas: Honoring the Past, Building the Future (Geneva. 111.: McDougal Littell, 2003), 103; Texas & Texans (Columbus, Ohio: Glencoe, 2003), 104-105; Texas! (Glencoe, 111.: Holt. Rinehart and Winston, 2003), 94-95. ^ See Chipman. "Alonso Alvarez de Pineda and the Rio de las Palmas," frontis map, fig. 1. An excel- lent reproduction of this map appears in Jack Jackson, Flags along the Coast: Charting the Gulf of Mexico, ißi(^—iy^c/: A Reappraisal ([Austin]: The Book Club of Texas. 1995), plate 1. *^ Robert S. Weddle, Spanish Sea: The Gulf of Mexico in North American Discovery, 1^00—168^ (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1985), 99-100. 2013 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 241
That stream, according to Castañeda, was the Rio Grande, "soon to be knovfli as the Rio de las Palmas."^" Garay next equipped Pineda with three ships loaded with supplies and several dozen colonists and sent him to found a colony on the river where he had sojourned for approximately a month and a half. That stream was the Rio Panuco, not the actual Rio de las Palmas (the present-day Rio Soto la Marina), and not the Rio Grande. Recognizing that his fledgling colony would need continued support, the governor dispatched at least three additional supply vessels in fairly rapid succession. Diego de Camargo commanded the first of these, and in early 1520 he apparently sailed on a direct course for the Rio Panuco, where he joined Pineda." Shortly thereafter, the Huastec Indians along the Rio Panuco rose in rebellion against the Spanish settlers and swept away the beginnings of Garay's colony. A sedentary culture, the Huastecs possessed war canoes, bows and arrows, powerful sling shots, and spears or javelins powered by atlatls. In the fighting, the Indians captured all but two of the Spanish vessels and managed to kill forty Spaniards, including Pineda. Camargo and several others boarded the two remaining vessels and fled toward the mouth of the river and the safety of Gulf waters, pursued all the way by a fleet of war canoes.''^ A few days later, several of the survivors asked to be put ashore so that they could forage their way south to Villa Rica. Camargo stayed with the damaged vessels, which had little or no provisions. On reaching Villa Rica, Camargo soon died of wounds and severe malnutrition. Others in similar condition died as well. The garrulous old conquistador Bernai Diaz del Castillo described these human scarecrows as "the green bellies," because of their discolored and distended stomachs.''^ Now, how can one be certain that Castañeda was vwong in misplacing a Spanish colony on the Rio Grande, when its actual location was on the Rio Panuco in Mexico? In 1523, following the defeat of the Aztecs, Cortés led a conquest of the province of Panuco, which lay inland from modern Tampico. On the Rio Panuco, about nine miles from an Indian town called Chila, the Conqueror and his men came upon the grisly remains of Pineda's colony. The Huastecs had removed the skins of the Spaniards and preserved them like the leather used in making fine gloves. Some of Cortés's soldiers even recognized old acquaintances from the Caribbean islands by their distinctive beards and mustaches. Furthermore, Bernai Diaz commented that the Spanish built boats needed in the conquest of
^•^ Castañeda, Our Catholic Heritage in Texas, 1:13. ^' Bernai Díaz del Castillo, Historia verdadera de Ui conquistn de la Nueva España, ed. Joaquín Ramírez de Cabanas (2 vols.; Mexico City: Editorial Porrúa, 1955), 1: capítulo CXXXIIL •^^ Weddle, Spanish Sea, 102-103. ^^ Díaz, Historia verdadera^ 1: capitulo CXXXIIL Díaz called the men "los panciveretés." 242 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January
Huastecs from the "wood of old vessels that had belonged to the captain sent by Garay, who had been killed."^'' Castañeda's misplacement of Pineda's colony on the Rio Grande resulted in large part from his astonishingly errant calculations of the dis- tances between the Rio Grande, the Rio de las Palmas to the south, and the Rio Panuco even farther south. Instead of looking at a modern map and measuring distances, he cited a sixteenth-century historian, Francisco López de Gomara, who stated that the distance between the Rio Panuco and the Rio de las Palmas (i.e., the Rio Grande, according to Castañeda) as a little more than thirty leagues, or roughly ninety miles. The actual distance from Brownsville, Texas, near the mouth of the Rio Grande, to Tampico is approximately 250 miles along the coast, and by highway it is more than 300 miles. Castañeda next had to refute the actual location of the Rio de las Palmas. In the 1650s, Alonso de León Sr. led an expedi- tion to the mouth of the Palmas. There he took a reading with his astro- labe and recorded the location as twenty-four degrees north latitude, just minutes off the location of the Soto la Marina where it enters the Gulf of Mexico near La Pesca. Undaunted, Castañeda insisted that De León had misread his astrolabe, and that he should have recorded twenty-six degrees north ladtude.^^ Castañeda might also have had to overlook the fact that the southern fork of the Soto la Marina to this day is still called Las Palmas (See figure 1). The cartographic evidence in support of the actual location of the Rio de las Palmas in colonial time is complementary and conclusive. A map dated 1597 by Corneille Wytfliet endded Hispania Nova shows the Rio de las Palmas entering the Gulf just north of the Tropic of Cancer at close to twenty-four degrees north ladtude."^® Additionally, the late Jack Jackson of Austin in his award-winning book. Flags along the Coast: Charting the Gulf of Mexico, i^ig-iy^g, reproduced more than four dozen maps. Not all depict the Rio Grande (also in Spanish, Rio Bravo, Rio del Norte, and Rio Magdalena) and the Rio de las Palmas, but where they do appear, the car- tographic record is clear: The Rio Bravo and the Rio de las Palmas were always shown as two disdnct rivers, with the latter south of the former.^'' There is other telling evidence that Pineda and Camargo never setded on the Rio Grande. Garay declared that Pineda had entered a river for about eighteen miles, traveling from the mouth. Along the way his men counted forty pueblos built by the Indians on both banks of the stream. Such a description is utterly at variance with Cabeza de Vaca's descripdon
" Ibid., 2: capítulo CLVIIL ^^ Castañeda, Our Catholic Heritage in Texas, l: 13, 2 lo. '^ See cover of the .Southwestern Historical Quarterly 98 (January 1995). "JackJackson, Flags ahng the Coast, plates 2, 4, 7, 45, 47, 49. 2013 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 243
Gulf of Mexico
MAP 1: FIGURE 1 The locations of the Rio Grande, Rio de las Palmas, and Rio Panuco. Map by Alex Mendoza. of Coahuiltecan groups that he encountered along the lower reaches of the Great River in 1534-1535-"''*' However, more than four centuries later, the discovery in 1974 of a carved stone at the Boca Chica site near the mouth of the Rio Grande by a Harlingen, Texas, reserve naval unit on a weekend archaeological dig seemed to verify a landing by Pineda in 1519 on the Great River. The stone's transcription in English translation read: "Here. Alonso Alvares de Pineda, Captain, 1519. With 270 men and 4 ships of Garay." Scratched along one side of the stone are the words: "Colony of Garay."'* . . On careful examination, the so-called Pineda Stone is clearly a poorly contrived fake. Two things conclusively dispel any chance of its authentic-
''** Castañeda, Our Catholic Heritage in Texas, l; 11-12; Reséndez, A Land So Strange, 179-182. ^'•' See Chipman, "Alonso Alvarez de Pineda and the Rio de las Palmas," 374-375, for a more complete discussion of the stone's lack of authenticity, photograph of tlie "Pineda Stone" on 375. 244 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January ity. Pineda, spelled with a tilde on the "n," is not a recognized Spanish surname. The stem of the "7" in "270" bears a slash mark, common in Europe, but the pracdce was not used undl somedme near the end of the 1800s. Additionally, the block letters on the stone are serif, assuredly not used in sixteenth-century Spain; and "CTN," the abbreviadon for capitán employed on the stone, is not authenticated by paleographers who have studied monumental epigraphy.^"
Correcdng errors made by others can lead to bruised feelings and embarrassment, just as errors pointed out in my wridngs over the past fifty years have affected me. But in fairness, the follovvdng is an illustration of why a young scholar ought to be able to rely on historians to get things right. In 1990 the University of Texas Press published Indians of the Rio Grande Delta by Martin Salinas. The published work was a revised M.A. thesis, assisted by distinguished anthropologist T. N. Campbell. In his book, Salinas accepted the Rio Grande as the Rio de las Palmas. He also regarded the ethnographic information flowing from survivors of Pineda and Camargo's colony on the Rio Panuco as perdnent to Texas Indians on the lower Rio Grande. Salinas nevertheless expressed puzzlement that hunting and gathering groups could have such a dense populadon and possess war canoes—as recorded by "the green bellies" who regained their health at Villa Rica. This information, however, is not the least surprising if applied to Huastec Indians in the province of Panuco.'"'' After reading my more lengthy article that appeared in the January 1995 issue of the SHQ. T. N. Campbell, who was kind enough to read my efforts elsewhere on Texas Indians, told me in a personal letter that he found my evidence for placing Pineda and Camargo's colony on the Rio Panuco convincing. My work received similar approval from renowned archaeologist Maynard B. Cliff in a review essay published in 1993.^^ Such endorsements, however, have not been extended by Texas nationalists in the coundes north of the Rio Grande in South Texas.
Moscoso and Soto 's Men in Texas Luis de Moscoso Alvarado, having succeeded to command of the Hernando de Soto expedition upon Soto's death at the Mississippi River,
*' Ibid. The misspelling of Pineda with a tilde over the "n" appears to have begun with the publication ofWebb and Carroll (eds.), TheHandbookof Texas, 2: ^So-$Si. ''' Martin Salinas, Indians oftheRio GrandeDelta: Their Role in the History of Southern Texas and Northeastern Mexico (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1990), 22. °^ Maynard B. Cliff, "Review Essay," Bulletin of the Texas Archeological Society 64 (1993): 335. Cliff also noted that Martin Salinas in his book had erred badly by placing a Mesoamerican culture, the Huastecs, as far north as the Rio Grande. 2013 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 245
set out on June 5, 1542, to lead the army from the wilderness. He sought a way through what is now Texas to the Spanish settlement at the mouth of the Rio Panuco in Mexico. Withdrawing in failure scarcely more than six months later, Moscoso left an enduring challenge for historians: to unravel the mystery of where this strange procession had been and the native peoples it had visited. Even after five hundred years, hypotheses were still being offered. In 1942, in commemoration of the five-hun- dredth anniversary of the Moscoso expedition, the Southwestern Historical Quarterly published three articles by respected historians, offering three different answers to the riddle.'''' More than half a century later, in 2010, A. Ray Stephens published a historical atlas of Texas containing, among its many others, a map showing six "Possible Routes of De Soto and Moscoso" by six different interpreters. Stephens offered no indication of his own thinking on the matter.''* Nor did he venture to say how many other "pos- sible routes" there might be. But the real disservice to scholarship here was the implication that the major part of Moscoso's route in Texas has not been known for almost three-quarters of a century. Understandably, the two primary accounts, drawn by the anonymous Portuguese Gentleman of Elvas and the king's factor, Luis Hernández de Biedma, related the journey only in the most general and obscure terms, complicating any effort to trace the route.''^ In 1935 the U.S. Congress formed the United States De Soto Expedition Commission to study the route intensely in order to overcome this handicap. The deliberations recorded in the Einal Report of the United States De Soto Expedition Commission, authored by John Reed Swanton, should make it clear that the 1542 expe- dition entered East Texas among the southern Caddos, or Hasinai, and traveled west and southwest until it entered a region offering insufficient sustenance for an army of more than two hundred men, their servants, and slaves.''^ Swanton's route interpretation was by all means the most exhaustive. He set a southerly course into Louisiana, then looped westward to enter Naguatex province, which he identified as Caddoan, on the Red River
'" Rex W. Strickland, "Moscoso's Journey tliiough Texas," Southwestern Historical Quarterly 46 (October 1942): 109-137; J. W. Williams, "Moscoso's Trail in Texas," Southwestern Historical Quarterly, 138-157; and Albert Woldert, 'The Expedition of Luis de Moscoso in Texas in 1542," Southwestern Historical Quarterly, 158-166. " Stephens. Historical Atlas of Texas, 42-43. ^ Both of these accoiuits have been translated into English several times, most recendy in Lawrence A. Clayton, Vernon James Knight Jr.. and Edward C. Moore (eds.). The De Soto Chronicles: The Expedition of Hernando de Soto to North America in i^^g—j^4^ (2 vols.; Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 1993). Volume 1 of this work comprises the account of Garcilaso de la Vega, "el Inca," who was not a member of the expedition. A third primary account, that of Soto's private secretary, Rodrigo Rangel, is not of con- cern here as it ended with Soto's death at tlie Missis.sippi River. ''''John R. Swanton. Final Report of the United States De Soto Expedition Commission (1939; reprint, Wash- ington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1985). 246 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January
above Shreveport. Turning sharply southwest, according to Swanton, the Spaniards visited other Caddoan (Hasinai) tribes—Nasoni, Nacane or Nacanish, and Nadaco, or Anadarco—between the Red and Sabine Rivers, to reach the Eyeish, or Ayish, tribe at the head of Ayish Bayou, a name given as Aays by Elvas and Hais by Biedma. The name is identifiable with Mission Dolores de los Ais, which was established on Ayish Bayou in 1717. The sitéis within thepresentcity of San Augustine. Much farther on "they came to a province called Guaseo, which must have been fairly fer- tile for there they loaded their horses and Indian slaves with corn." From their names and the fact that they cultivated the soil, Swanton thought, rightly, that they were Caddos "like the tribes met from the Red River south, and probably part of the later Hasinai of the Nacogdoches area."''' Here the record becomes cloudy. "From Guaseo the Spaniards advanced as far as the River Daycao, probably the Trinity, and sent ten horsemen a considerable distance beyond. "''*' Elvas and Biedma told it differendy. Elvas related that the entire Spanish body marched from Guaseo ten days to reach "the river of which the Indians had spoken." Ten horsemen crossed the stream and came upon a band of wretched Indians, who fled, leaving their possessions, "all of which were wretchedness and poverty."'^* Conversely, Biedma related that ten men were sent from Guaseo on swift horses to travel as far as possible in eight or nine days to investigate food supplies (while the main force waited). In either case, only a poor, barren country was found; the decision was made to turn back to the Mississippi, to build boats, and try to reach Mexico by water.™ ,• The impact of the De Soto Expedition Commission report on inter- pretations of Moscoso's Texas itinerary began showing up as early as 1942, with two of the three commemorative articles published in the Southwestern Historical Quarterly. The shift in thinking is most noticeable in Rex Strickland's lead article. His approach is critical and multi-disciplin- ary, applying geography, chronology, linguistics, archaeology, and geology as well as history." He placed Moscoso's Red River crossing (Naguatex) in Kadohadacho territory rather than Hasinai. As he followed the sup- posed Moscoso trail south by southwest, he marveled at the absence of Kadohadacho terms in the primary accounts. He identified the Soacatino
"' Ibid., 262, 280; James E. Corbin, "Nuestra Señora de los Dolores de Los Ais Mission," Handbook of Texas Online, (http://www.tshaonline.org/handbook/online/ardcles/uqni2> [Accessed Oct. 23, 2011]; Swanton, Final Report, 262, 280. ™ Clayton, Knight, and Moore, TheDe Soto Chronicles, 1: 147. ^'^ Swanton, Final Report, 263, 333. '*" Strickland, "Moscoso's Journey," 109—137. " Swanton, Final Report, Strickland cites "Douay's Narrative," in I. J. Cox (ed.), Journey of La Salle (reprint, 2 vols; Austin: Pemberton Press, 1968), 1: 251. 2013 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 247 people with "the four Indian mounds once discernible in the north por- tion of Nacogdoches" and the Eyeish or Ayish as the Ais of Mission Dolores at San Augustine.'''^ Strickland uldmately traced the Spaniards through a sparsely populated area offering little sustenance until arriving at the lush province of Guaseo, where Moscoso's followers were able to load the horses and Indian slaves with corn. Strickland identified Guaseo as "the old Nabedaehe village on San Pedro Creek." Afterward eame the River Daycao, a ten-day journey that brought Moscoso's army again into a poor region that offered litde sustenance, boding ill for condnuing the land march toward Mexico—hence the turning point. Strickland judged the Trinity River to be the River Daycao, where the expedition turned back to the Mississippi." Half a century later, in 1993, archaeologists James E. Bruseth and Nancy A. Kenmotsu jusdfied a reassessment of previous route studies with the argument that "earlier efforts have been based on an incomplete understanding of the archeological record relating to the 16th century in Texas." The authors maintained that archaeological investigations made over the last several decades provided a better knowledge of Texas's late prehistoric period. A weakness in their rationale is suggested by their statement that "although no authentic 16th century artifacts have been found in Texas that can be linked to de Moscoso's travels, a general under- standing exists of Native American sites dating to the general time of the expedition."''' At last, known sixteenth-century archaeological sites coin- cided with the Indian provinces named by Elvas. They nevertheless placed Guaseo on the Nueees River, a bit too soon. Thenee, they sought to extend Moseoso's trek as far as the Guadalupe River, which they idendfied as the River Daycao but with obscure reasoning. Moscoso's route into Texas seems well established. Only the identity of the River Daycao, where the decision was made to turn back, remains in doubt. Many interpreters think it the Trinity. Yet if, as Strickland thought and as seems likely, Guasco's location was the same as that of San Pedro de los Nabedaches, the distance to the Trinity was too short. Expeditions from the 1690s until near the end of the colonial period covered it in a little more or less than four days, much less than the ten the Moseoso
'''Strickland, "Moscoso'sJourney," 127. " Ibid., 129. On June 19, 1716, Domingo Ramon's colonizing expedition paused at the Nabedaehe village on San Pedro Creek to celebrate the Feast of Saint Peter; hence the name San Pedro de los Nabe- daches. A much-used campground, often mentioned in expedition diaries, it was identified as the site of the 1690 Mission San Francisco de los Tejas, fourteen leagties from the Trinity River crossing and four leagues from the Neches River. See Robert S. Weddle with contributions by Jonathan H. Jarvis and Darrell G. Creel, Archival and Archeological Research: Camino Research: Camino Real de los Tejas and. Texas State Parks (Atistin: Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, 2012), 9-10. 'ajames E. Bruseth and Nancy A. Kenmotsu, "From Nagautex to the River Daycao, tlie Route of the Hernando de Soto Expedition through Texas," North American Archaeologist 14, no. 3 (1993): 199. 248 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January
1. Guachoya 3. Aguacay 5. Nondacao 7. Soacatino 2. Chagúate 4. Naguatex 6. Aays 8. Guaseo
MAP a: Possible route across Louisiana and East Texas taken by Luis de Moscoso. This map gives the approximate locations of the native groups encountered by Moscoso's expedition. Map by Alex Mendoza. party took to get to the Daycao. The route cannot be known inch by inch, but careful scholarship has shown the expedition's general course from its entry into Texas at Naguatex province until it turned back at the River Daycao.
Fort St. Louis versus La Salle's Texas Settlement A 1975 watercolor drawing by the late Tom Jones of Victoria, occa- sionally plagiarized, shows a blockhouse and five smaller buildings sur- rounded by a sturdy palisade, as any fort of its time and place should be. Hung in the sky above the image of this well-ordered post is an ornate cartouche, paying the obligatory obeisance to King Louis XIV of France. There is the customary shield, consisting of three gold fleurs de lis on a 2013 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 249
blue field and a banner with the supposed name of the late-seventeenth century settlement in southern Victoria County: "Fort St. Louis. "^'^ What's wrong with this picture? Actually nothing by hardly anyone's 1975 understanding. Jones himself, in an accompanying word sketch, called his artwork "a conjectural reconstruction.""''Like others who have treated La Salle's abortive Texas colony with words or pictures—the pres- ent writer included—Jones confronted a tangle of errors that has existed since the seventeenth century. Since 1975, however, historians and archae- ologists have been hard at work to bring forth a true representation of the La Salle Texas expedition, 1684-1689, and to lift the 300-year-old shroud that has obscured it from the beginning. From this work has come an unsettling truth: There never was a Fort St. Louis of Texas.'^ Continued application of the term to La Salle's Texas settlement refj- resents a distortion of history; vastly different from the actual fact is the image it conjures. Descriptions have come forth from colonial Frenchmen and Spaniards, denying that this precarious wilderness encampment, so unpretentious that it never was given a name, enjoyed the protection of anything resembling a fort: both La Salle himself and his lieutenant Henri Joutel so attest. As the warshipyo/3) prepared to sail for France after depositing La Salle's company on the Texas shore. La Salle scribbled a message to the ship's captain, Taneguy Le Gallois de Beaujeu, complaining that much of what he needed for the setdement was about to be hauled away in the ship; hence "the post I cannot build, as I have no cannons to defend it, no iron to build it, and no engineer to fortify it." Those cannons so crucial to the enterprise lay in Joly's hold and could not be removed without sacrificing the ship's stability. The engineer who had signed on for the expedidon, Jean-Baptiste Minet, now disillusioned with the enterprise, was leaving it to return to France with Joly. The iron needed for building had sunk to the bottom with the supply ship. Aimable. La Salle had long since come to real- ize that he had not found the place at which he wished to build his perma- nent fort; and the settlement on Garcitas Creek was never intended to be more than a temporary refuge while he sought a path to the Mississippi.™ With this information in hand, I turned to a recent translation of the first sixteen chapters of Henri Joutel's "Reladon" to check index refer-
'^'Tom Jones, Victoria: A ^oo y^ar^om^/er (Victoria, Tex.: Victoria Bank and Trust, 1975), plate 6. For an earlier and somewhat more elaborate hypothetical drawing of Fort Saint Louis (by Tom Minnart), see frontispiece. 'Ojones, Victoria, 6. " Robert S. Weddle, The Wreck of the Belle, the Ruin of La Salle (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2001), 196-197. '** La Salle to Beaujeu, Feb. 18, 1686, in Pierre Margry (ed.). Découvertes et établissement des Français dans l'ouest et dans le sud de. l'Amérique septentrionale, 161^—ly^^ (6 vols.; Paris: Jouaust, 1876—1886), 2: 546; Weddle, The Wreck of the Belle, 197. 250 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January enees to 'Tort Saint Louis." To my amazement, I found that the name ascribed to the post since 1713 appeared not at all injoutel's text.'^ Ha'ving settled his people in makeshift huts of sticks and buffalo hides, La Salle's priorities became confused. He had reloaded Belle for a new effort to find the Mississippi when, while chasing troublesome Indians, he found in the native village signs of a long-ago Spanish intrusion. Leaving the one remaining ship. Belle, poorly manned in an insecure anchorage, he set out on a long and debilitating journey to the west, hoping to ascer- tain the Spaniards' position and perhaps the location of Spanish mines. While he was gone, the little frigate Belle wrecked in a squall, and most of her crew perished. With the loss of the colony's last ship, the people were marooned without means to fortify themselves against a host of wilderness hazards. The building of a fort had become impossible. New plans for the remaining colonists to erect a palisade while La Salle and a small band of followers trekked eastward to seek his Illinois post fell to naught as the colonists found their time consumed by the necessities of daily li'ving.*" Could this ragged band of lost people, surrounded by untamed wilder- ness and hostile Karankawas, their numbers constantly dwindling, possi- bly have called this assemblage of stick-and-mud shanties a fort? La Salle himself gave it no name. He seemed at a loss to describe it as he signed his last official report: "At the post built in the baye Saint-Louis, April, 18, 1686. "8' Henri Joutel, who provided the single most comprehensive account of the La Salle Texas expedition from beginning to end, returned to France after La Salle was murdered. He therefore had opportunity to observe the spin that was being put on the late expedition. Apart from La Salle's brother Abbé Cavelier, who seemed unable to speak or write the truth, there were religious writers who sought to varnish over the failures of La Salle's clerics. Most egregious in Joutel's eyes was Chrétien Le Clercq's claim, in his First Establishment of the Eaith in New Erance, that a fort was built and put in a state of defense. This, Joutel declared, was purely imaginary, for "there was only the house ... having eight cannons at the four corners, unfortunately without cannonballs. And when we left, there was nothing else in the nature of a fort." It was the bay, Joutel further notes, that was named "baye Saint-Louis in honor of the King.""^
" William C. Foster (ed.) and Johanna S. Warren (trans.). The La Salle Expedition to Texas: The Journal of Henri Joutel, 1684-168J (Austin: Texas State Historical Association: 1998); "Relation of Henri Joutel." in Margry (ed.). Découvertes, 3: 91-534. ^ La Salle, procès verbal, Apr. i8. 1686. in Margry (ed.), Découvertes, 3: 548. »' Ibid. '*^ "Relation de Henri Joutel,"in Margry (ed.). Découvertes, 3: 191-292. Actually, there were cannonballs in the setdement, but the balls and the cannons were a mismatch. Haste in loading the ships before leav- ing France seems to have resulted in placing the cannons on different ships from compatible cannonballs. "'Weddle, Wreck of the&eWe, 197. 2O13 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 251
Joutel's relation itself, possibly "too prolix or prosaic" for a popular audience, suffered at the hands of revisionists in France. Thence sprang the work responsible for much of the confusion in La Salle historiogra- phy. Jean Michel, in 1713, brought forth an obfuscatory abridgement of Joutel that was translated into English the following year. Reprinted countless times, and widely used by writers even into the present day to fill the blanks concerning La Salle, this work contributed the misnomer "Fort St. Louis." Michel's source for the error was not Joutel but La Salle's brother, the Sulpician Abbé Cavelier. In the Abbe's spurious journal, as it was recast for the minister Marquis de Seignelay, the name appears this way: "the Baye or the fort St. Louis." Michel, doubtless frustrated by Joutel's failure to give the post a name, had his problem solved. "Fort St. Louis," however, does not appear in any of the participants' accounts during the post's existence.*' Spanish documents, by and large, support the French. When the Spanish General Alonso de León came upon the ruined site in 1689, he wrote: "The principal house of this settiement is of ship timbers, built in the manner of a fort," with adjoining chapel. The other five houses, of stakes plastered with mud, he added, were "all quite useless for any defense whatsoever.""'' In Mexico, the name Saint Louis might have been suggested inadver- tently by one of the French captives taken by León. When pressed by his interrogators for names of the bay, river, or settiement, Jean L'Archevêque could think of only one: San Luis. Even though L'Archevêque's Spanish interrogators may have taken this to be the name of the settiement, their misconception could hardly account for perpetuation of the error."'^ No, that was accomplished by Michel's seemingly innocent misconception, translated into English and published in London. From the confusing work of Michel and his translators has come mis- representation by reputable historians. Among them is Francis Parkman, long regarded the foremost interpreter of La Salle's endeavors. Parkman, in fact, misplaced the location of La Salle's settlement on the Lavaca River, instead of Garcitas Creek farther to the west, and said that the explorer "gave the new establishment his favorite name of Fort St. Louis. "*^ By the time the error in the name Fort St. Louis was discovered and made known, it was "inconvenient" to correct it. Countless books and
^Alonso de León, "Derrotero y demarcación de la tierra de la jornada,"in Primeras exploraciones y pobla- miento de. Texas, i686—i6g¿f, ed. Lino Cómez Cañedo (Monterrey: Publicaciones del Instituto Tecnológico y de Estudios Superiores de Monterrey, 1968), 98. ^^ L'Archevêque, "Declaración,"June 10, 1689, Archivo General de Indias, México 616 (Dolph Briscoe Center for American History, tjniversity of Texas at Austin). ^^ Francis Parkman, La Salle and the Discovery of the Great West (reprint; New York: New American Library, 1963), 284, 286. 252 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January artieles had appeared, ineluding several of my own, using the misnomer without restraint. Just a few years previous, the six-volume New Handbook of Texas had appeared, with mueh new information on La Salle's Texas expedidon, but that venture still was ealled Fort St. Louis.'^' The Texas Historieal Commission, having discovered and excavated the wreckage of La Salle's ship Belle inside Matagorda Bay, had begun excava- tion also of "Fort St. Louis," both expensive projects dependent on liberal public and private funding.*** It would have been inconvenient indeed to declare all at once that there was no Fort St. Louis. But then the story of La Salle's enterprise was to be told in the Texas Areheologieal Research Laboratory's website, "Texas Beyond History," a tool to be used in Texas classrooms. Planning has begun for placing the preserved hull of the Belle in the Bob Bullock State History Museum—seemingly offering an oppor- tunity to correct the longstanding misconception. Yet the agencies in the best position to supplant error with truth—those in the best posidon to correct the myth—often are the ones offering the most resistance. In August 2011,1 received nodce that the Museum of the Coastal Bend at Victoria was organizing a "Planning Roundtable" of humanides schol- ars to plan expansion of its permanent La Salle Odyssey exhibit. My par- ticipation was invited. When I replied that I would not be able to make the trip, it was suggested that I participate by providing a written sum- mary of my recollections. I wrote in reply that my primary concern was that the La Salle expedition be treated accurately, with omission of the misnomer "Fort St. Louis." Months later, I was notified that funding had been awarded for a one-day planning session and the drafting of an appli- eadon intended for seeuring a larger planning grant for "expansion and revision of interpretative materials, and for exhibit design to be carried out between May 2012 and April 2013. Included on the agenda was a "Nomenclature discussion: Fort St. Louis v. La Salle's French setdement."*^ This was most welcome news, beeause the historiography of the La Salle Texas expedition is replete with faetual errors, many of them per- petrated knowingly as events unfolded.^" Historians' keenest pereeption and utmost eoneern for truth is demanded to eorrect them, regardless of the ineonvenience. The effort to eorrect the name erroneously applied to
*' Robert S. Weddle, "Fort St. Louis," in Ron Tyler, Douglas E. Barnett, Roy R. Barkley, Penelope C. Anderson, and Mark F. Odintz (eds.). The New Handbook of Texas (6 vols.; Austin: Texas State Historical Association, 1996), 2: 1118-1119; Robert S. Weddle, The French Thom: Rival Explorers in the Spanish Sea, 1682—1J62 (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 1991), 3off. "Ajames E. Bruseth and Toni S. Turner, From a Watery Grave: The Discovery and Excavation of La Salle's Shipwreck, Belle (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2005). ^ Sue Prodhomme to Robert S. Weddle, Aug. 27, 2011, letter, Robert S. Weddle to Sue Prodhomme, Sept 10, 2011, letter; Prudhomme to Weddle, Feb. 14, 15, 2012, e-mail (all in possession of the author.). " Robert S. Weddle, 'Tarnished Hero: A La Salle Overview," Southwestern Historical Quarterly 113 (Octo- ber 2009): 159-183. 2013 How Historical Myths Are Born . . . And Why They Seldom Die 253 the French post that clung to a miserable existence on Garcitas Creek so far depends on carrying forth the effort begun by the Handbook of Texas Online. In that medium, which has the unique facility for constant updat- ing, "Fort St. Louis" now appears only with cross-reference to "La Salle's Texas Expedition."*'
Lost Bowie Mine/Lost San Saba Mine On the Neel Ranch some twelve miles northwest of Menard, Texas, an intermittent stream that flows within limestone banks—^when it flows at all—bears the name Silver Creek. The name bespeaks a plethora of his- torical myths that relate to treasure maps out of Mexico, to the location of James Bowie's alleged silver mine, and to the place of Bowie's fight with Indians in 1831. The myths also offer an identity for the skeleton that treasure hunters unearthed, claiming it was Bowie's man, Thomas McCaslin, who was killed in the fight with Indians.^^ The silver-mine myths brought such a fever to Menard County that men have come literally with pick and shovel in hand and started to dig. In some instances the search has been passed from one generation to the next, wasting family fortunes in the process. Scant attention was paid to the geological impossibility that overshadowed the whole business. The tunnels and shafts that mark the Edwards Limestone bear testimony to the prevailing ignorance of a key principle: mineral ores simply do not occur in sedimentary rock such as limestone, but only in metamorphous or igneous rock. The silver-mine myths share their beginning with expeditions from San Antonio in the 1750s, seeking a suitable location for the San Saba mission and presidio: hence discovery of the red-ocher hill called Los Almagres in Llano County's Riley Mountains, which temporarily shifted the focus from mission building to mining. Bernardo de Miranda, after gathering ore samples from Las Almagres, was denied both the subsidy he sought for extracting ore and a presidio under his command to protect the workers.'^ With attention refocused, the new Apache mission, Santa Cruz de San Saba, and Presidio de San Luis de las Amarillas were established in 1757, seventy-five miles from Los Almagres, near present-day Menard. Both
" Robert S. Weddle, "La Salle's Texas Settlement," The Handbook of Texas Online
Diego Ortiz Parrilla, the first to command the San Sabá presidio, and his successor, Felipe de Rábago y Terán, sought permission to move the post to Los Almagres to work the purported mines. Ortiz Parrilla had ore samples brought to the San Sabá presidio for smelting—and left the slag there to excite the interest of anyone who might see the refuse heap in later years. In fact, there were chunks of the material still scattered about the site in 1956 when I first saw it I sent samples for analysis to the Mining and Metallurgy Department at Texas Western College (now University of Texas at El Paso). A fire analysis for gold and silver found no gold, but there was silver in the ratio of .45 ounces per ton of ore.'** In 1758, a year after its founding, the Mission San Sabá was destroyed by northern Indians, principally Taovayas (Wichitas) and Comanches. The presidio's stone compound was abandoned a dozen years later. Yet visitors still came to the old fort in the years that followed, some chas- ing Indians, some merely exploring, and others drawn by reports of silver mines—many failing to realize that San Sabá and Los Almagres were not the same and that only Los Almagres offered the remotest possibility of mineral ores.^^ Nevertheless, claims of the "Lost San Saba Mine," or the "Lost Bowie Mine" or the "Lost [sic] Almagres Mine" being in Menard County, as Menard native Gwynne Lundgren says, abound. She dated the first mine- related incident to 1738 [sic], "when the Franciscans set up a mission on the San Saba . . . [where] they discovered a vein of silver." Soldiers sent to work the mine, as she told it, made the Indians do the work, causing the Indians to rebel and in 1758 kill the priests and soldiers, burn the church, and destroy all evidence of the mine, which of course could never be found again.^® Juan Antonio Padilla visited the site in 1810 and carved his name on the stone gatepost. As secretary to the commandant of Eastern Interior Provinces in 1819, Padilla made a report on Texas Indian tribes in which he related that north of San Antonio, near the Colorado River, were mineral deposits known only to the Indians.^' In the years that fol- lowed, many visitors came to the San Sabá country, a sizable number of them to seek the mythical mine, but one stood out. "Flaming above all the other searchers,"J. Frank Dobie wrote, "is the figure of James Bowie."**
'< Weddle, San Sabá Mission, 198; Henry P. Ehlinger to Robert S. Weddle, Apr. 16, 1962, letter (in author's possession). The analysis showed 4.56 percent iron, 18.43 percent lime, 6.32 percent alumina, and 29.84 percent silica. "'' This point is emphasized in James Stott's recent book. The Los Almagres Mines: Lost in Texas 250 Years (privately published, 2011). Stotts, a Llano County rancher, challenges longstanding misconceptions of Los Almagres, which he identifies with ancient mine shafts on his ranch. ^ Gwynne K. Lundgren, "The Story of the Lost Bowie Mine," in Menard County History: An Anthology (Menard, Tex.: Menard County Historical Society, 1982), 26. " Patton, "Miranda's Inspection of Los Almagres," 224. '" J. Frank Dobie, Coronado's Children: Lost Mines and Buried Treasure of the Southwest (reprint; New York: Grosset &: Dunlap, 1973), 9. 2013 How Historical Myths Are Barn . . . And Why They Seldom Die 255
Because Dobie so thoroughly mixed folklore with history, any attempt beyond this point to create a truly factual narrative from his writings becomes an exercise in futility; especially so concerning James Bowie and company on their venture into the Texas Hill Country. Yet there is no disputing that they came, fought a battle with Indians within a few miles of the old Spanish presidio, and carved the Bowie name on the presidio's stone gatepost. Whether their purpose was speculating for land, catching wild horses, or looking for the rumored silver mines, they did not say. The argument is strong, however, that they were seeking to verify existence of the alleged mine. James Bowie, his brother Rezin, and nine other men set out from San Antonio on November 2, 1831, for the old Presidio de San Sabá. As Dobie says, "they coursed in strange manner," taking three weeks to approach their destination.''^A clue to their intention may be found in Stephen F. Austin's maps. In 1829, Austin began showing the mythical San Sabá mine on maps published by Philadelphia mapmaker Henry S. Tanner. Tanner's own depictions followed, spreading widely the "news" of the mines in the Menard country. After three weeks of wandering, the Bowie party was warned by Comanches that other Indians were stalking them. They hastened their pace, hoping to reach the abandoned fort's protective walls, but as Rezin has been quoted as saying, they were six miles short when they were attacked by Tawakonis, Caddos, and Wacos. Two markers in the Menard area, some thirty miles apart, claim to identify the battle site: one on Silver Creek, placed by treasure hunters who were convinced that here was the scene of the Bowies' Indian battle and also of their mine. The other claim is a Texas Centennial marker erected in 1936 on Calf Creek, in the west- ern edge of McCulloch County. Justification for the Silver Creek marker was the finding of a single skeleton, which was declared the remains of the Bowie party's single fatality. The finders made a huge cross from oil-field pipe and erected it over the grave with a plaque inscribed thus: "Here lies Thomas McCaslin who was with the James Bowie expedition and was killed November 21, 1831, in Indian fight in this thicket. Erected by M. Wenonah and J. R. Norton." Placement of the Centennial marker at Calf Creek was based on evidence scarcely more substantial. When the Calf Creek School was built, and the surrounding live-oak thicket felled to stoke its fires in winter, an unusual number of lead bullets showed up in the firewood: apparently taken as ample e'vidence of the fight scene.'"" In the 1960s, and probably until a recent restoration project was begun at the presidio, the Bowie name stood out on the old fort's gatepost.
"Ibid.. 12. '*"' In the mid-1960s, I, along with E. M. Swaim and George Stoepler. investigated these two sites and one other in the southwest corner of Mason County that we considered the best alternative of the three. 256 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January among several others. Some of the names were defaced or distorted by other carvings adjacent to or over them. This particular one surely pro- voked excitement among treasure hunters: BOWIE MINE 1832 Mrs. H. H. Wheless showed me a signed and dated photograph of the gatepost taken in 1895 by noted frontier photographer Noah H. Rose, revealing that things were not altogether as they seemed. Bowie's name is there, right enough, but the word "mine" does not appear. Obviously, the inscription had been altered; since 1895 the word "Mine" had been superimposed over an 1829 date that was unrelated, as was 1832."" During the almost dozen years that I lived in Menard, seekers for the Lost Bowie Mine came and went. Still fresh on the tongues of the popu- lace was the saga of Judge J. R. Norton, a retired San Antonio lawyer, and "Princess" Martha Wenonah, granddaughter of a Comanche chief who had an Indian mother and a German immigrant father. Both Norton and Wenonah spent fortunes as together they sought the mythical mine on Silver Creek, she with information from Indians, he with leads from Mexico and Spain, or so it was widely reported. Wenonah's sobriquet of "Princess" was a vestige of an act she had performed on stage. She acknowledged spending her last $20,000 seeking the mine. Cancer took her life in 1943 at age seventy-five, her mission unfulfilled.^"^ Judge Norton and Wenonah had been partners in "development" of the old mine shafts on Silver Creek some thirteen years at the time of her death and his, a few months later, in a stove explosion in his shack at the mining camp. Norton had worked eighteen years toward finding the payload and had spoken of having spent $60,000 in the quest. Following his death, his son, Hilary, took up the search. I once spoke briefly with Hilary's widow, who told me tearfully, "It [the mine quest] took every- thing we had.""" Mere mention of the words "gold" or "silver" often is enough to give birth to a myth. Once born, the myth takes on a life of its own, until it becomes firmly entrenched in legend that passes for history. It is not uncommon for the process to receive an assist from a storyteller who latches onto the tale—even to the point of becoming obsessed by mine fever. Consider, for example, H. A. Desmond and his twenty-eight-page booklet. My Search for
"" Kendall Curlee, "Rose, Noah Hamilton," The Handbook of Texas Online,
Las [sic] Almagres Mine Later Called Bowie's Mine.'"* This impossible tale in the guise of a personal memoir claims the author actually had seen twenty mule-loads of silver bars that Jim Bowie had dumped in one of Menard County's many caves; that he, Desmond himself, might have recovered the lode had he not been thwarted by a succession of fortuitous circumstances until the opportunity passed. In Menard County, one may still hear this yarn told as truth.
Afierword So how are historical myths created? For example, consider the two essays that treat the early explorers Alvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca and Luis de Moseoso Alvarado. There are an astonishing number of divergent routes attributed to them, as well as' the persistence of errors in support of their having passed through or by one place or another. These in part spring from the travelers themselves who had only their own observations to guide them, and what they observed was almost always confusing. Historians have often been inclined to place too much reliance on the accuracy of latitudes, directions, and distances computed with primitive instruments—especially the total lack of accurate means of determining longitude until late in the eighteenth century. We are also inclined to place a too-literal interpretation on primitive maps (a source of La Salle's downfall).i"'^ Our intent here, therefore, is not to embarrass or fault anyone but to make us all a bit more careful in our researeh. A ease in point is a book, in front of me as I write, titled Our Texas. A beautiful photograph of the Alamo façade adorns the dust jacket, pointing the way to an assortment of colorful illustradons within. The Alamo photo on the cover is a close match to the one appearing in the text with this caption: "It is the Alamo and the great battle that took place here during the Spanish-American War (author's italics) that draws more tourists than any other site in Texas."""' Almost any work on Texas history is apt to encounter foreign words— most often Spanish, but also a number of others. In the Williamson County community of Walburg, for example, five languages appear on the cornerstone of the local Catholic church, neither Spanish nor English among them; like "Llano Estacado," they offer great possibilities for mistranslation. There is no end to the pitfalls. How long was a league? How long was a sixteenth-century degree? Some historians even have trouble caleuladng
'"'* H. A. Desmond, My Search for Las Almagres Mine Later Called Bowie's Mine (n.p.: 1976). '05 Weddle, Spanish Sea, xiv; Robert S. Weddle, Changing Tides: Twilight andDawn in the Spanish Sea (Col- lege Station: Texas A&M University Press, 138) ; Weddle, The French Thom, 339. 106 Y^ü\ Gornell (ed.). Our Texas (Stillwater, Minn.: Voyageur Press, 2004), 96. 258 Southwestern Historical Quarterly January distances in miles; hence the confusion over which river was called the Rio de las Palmas. Other historians, it seems, have shortcomings in geography. As if colonial documents were not plain enough, today's Soto la Marina was indeed the Rio de las Palmas of colonial times, and a southern branch of the Soto la Marina is still called Las Palmas. Of historical myths, Robert Cavelier, sieur de la Salle, served up a full plate. Even without the ample assistance of Chrétien Le Clercq, who put a finer gloss on La Salle's New World venture, the falsehoods of the explorer's lying brother, the Abbé Cavelier; or the dramatic flair of Francis Parkman, myths and falsehoods seemed to rise from La Salle's episode like fog above a swamp. With a touch of irony, the one historical myth treated herein is one that La Salle himself acknowledged: Fort St. Louis, "the fort that never was."'"'My identification of that misnomer has been noted with this statement by Bryan WooUey: "Weddle probably is correct. But for the sake of convenience we shall continue to call the settlement by its traditional name." Alas, convenience trumps accuracy.'"* Again, our combined purpose in these essays is not to embarrass or find fault. It is quite simply to urge a more careful regard for the truth—even when it is not convenient.
""Weddle, Wreck of the Relie, 196 (chapter dtle). '"' Bryan Woolley, "La Salle's Colony in Texas," Texas Almanac, 2002-2005, ^d. Mary G. Ramos (Dallas; Dallas Morning News, 2001), 22. Copyright of Southwestern Historical Quarterly is the property of Texas State Historical Association and its content may not be copied or emailed to multiple sites or posted to a listserv without the copyright holder's express written permission. However, users may print, download, or email articles for individual use.