Jacob & Sarah Walker - Poineers & Heroe's of Texas

 
Jacob Walker was born in Columbia, Tenn. in May 1805. His cousin and close friend was Sam Houston. In 1825, Jacob moved to Louisiana where he met and fell in love with Sarah Vauchere. They were married in 1827, bought a farm and quickly had two children. Jacob then sold the farm and moved his family to Nacogdoches, Texas were they had five more children by 1835. That same year, Sam Houston stopped for a visit and persuaded his cousin to join the Texas army because they were giving land to the soldiers.
 
In December, 1835, Jacob fought in his first battle, the storming and capture of Bexar. The siege of Bexar resulted in Santa Anna bringing his large army to retake San Antonio and Texas. His actions and the way the settlers were treated made men indecisive about their future as Mexican citizens or Texans move solidly onto the side of freedom.
 
After the Siege of Bexar, Walker remained as a member of Carey’s artillery company carrying out his duties as a gunner in San Antonio. As Santa Anna's troops approached, the small contingent of Texas soldiers entered into the Alamo. For 12 full days, the men withstood assault after assault until on the 13th morning, The Mexicans attacked in overwhelming numbers.  
 
According to accounts by Susanna Dickinson, one of 20 women and children who were spared by Santa Anna as well as Mexican Army records, Jacob fired his cannon until he ran out of cannon balls. By then he had been wounded several times, but he plugged his cannon with scraps of cast iron and broken pieces of chain and rocks and fired once more at the Mexican soldiers. A Mexican officer trained a force of muskets on Walker and his few surviving me and fired a terrible volley.

Somehow, although wounded again, Walker managed to jump from the ramp and limp to the side of Mrs. Dickinson who had by then been moved into one of the chapel side rooms with the other women and children. Jacob had spoken to Suzanna several times during the siege "with anxious tenderness" about his wife and children and now he begged her to take a last message to his Sarah. Within moments of his entry into the room though, the Mexican soldiers broke through the old doors. It is believed that Walker was attempting to ignite the main powder magazine to keep the Mexicans from getting it, but because of his injuries, he only managed to crawl to Mrs. Dickinson. When the doors were broken open, he stood and turned to face the Mexican hordes. Mrs. Dickinson said he was standing in front of her as if to protect her when four Mexican soldiers "bayoneted him and tossed him up in the air as you would a bundle of fodder." They then shot him as he lay on the ground dying. After that, all was silent. On March 6, 1836, Jacob Walker was the last combatant to die at the battle of the Alamo.

The youngest child of French aristocrat Joseph Vauchere, Sarah Ann Vauchere was born on April 16, 1811 in Louisiana. At 16, she married Jacob Walker and two years later moved to East Texas with him. Sarah had three girls and four boys in the nine years before the Texas Revolution.

After the fall of the Alamo and the death of Sarah's husband, in the dark days when General Sam Houston and a rag-tag band of volunteers were being chased by the mighty Mexican army, it seemed that any additional difficulty might prove to be the end of the revolution altogether. The widowed Sarah answered the call for a volunteer at a patriots meeting held in Nacogdoches. The patriots needed General Sam Houston warned that the Cherokees had been incited by the Mexicans to ambush the Texas army from the rear as it retreated from the forces of General Antonio Lopez de Santa Anna. At only four feet eight inches tall and twenty-five years old, Sarah believed she could pass through enemy lines disguised as a boy. After changing her clothes and stuffing her long hair under a cowboy hat, she set off on horseback. She rode for days across a sparsely settled area where hostile Indians hunted, Mexican solders marched, and many other dangers for a lone woman existed. Three hundred miles later, Sarah reached the town of Gonzales, located Houston and his army, and gave him the intelligence that allowed his army to avoid the Cherokees.

After the Texans won their independence, for the valiant sacrifice made by her husband Jacob, a grateful Republic of Texas issued to her Headright Certificate Number One, deeding to her “a league and a labor” (about 4,416 acres). The certificate was signed by President David G. Burnet, who held the office of President from March 16, 1836 to Oct. 22, 1836. The certificate did not locate the grant of land until Feb. 1, 1841. Col. Leonard William’s, first Indian Commissioner of Texas, located the grant of land for her. The Walker Grant was east of the Brazos River, beginning at a point slightly north of the mouth of the Bosque River and extending past White Rock Creek. The property also stretched east beyond Tehuacana Creek.

Sarah's tombstone
After marrying Jacob's cousin, Jim Bob Walker, Sarah birthed two more children and then moved to her land in the late 1840's. Before Sarah could establish her family on the new land though, her second husband died. It was not unusual for survivors in the West to marry three or four times, but Sarah chose not to remarry again. With considerable fortitude, Sarah assumed responsibility for settling her nine children in the wilderness of Central Texas. She built her log cabin on high ground facing the Brazos River and enjoyed the benefits of fresh water from nearby springs, fertile black soil and native fruit trees. The 1850 Census listed her as “family head, occupation farmer.”
A few years later with so many people looking for land, Sarah began to lease a few parcels of her land grant. Family records tell of how she rode horseback to collet rent from her tenants.

Sarah Walker not only survived as a single woman and mother in these hard times, she prospered and eventually replaced her cabin with a two-story Greek Revival structure with large porches in the front and back. For years, hers was the only house north of the Waco Indian Village on the Military Road, and travelers frequently stopped to drink from the cool spring waters and rest their horses. Indians frequently came by also, but did not attack because they admired her bravery and because Sarah made it a point to always give them gifts of food.

Sarah Ann Walker continued alone while the Military Road became the old Dallas Highway and the family cemetery behind her house filled with her children and grandchildren. As hardy a pioneer as the West had, Sarah witnessed the extension of the frontier into Texas, participated in the Texas Revolution, saw Waco born, and almost lived to see the turn of the 20th Century. She died peacefully at home on Dec. 10, 1899, at 88. She was buried behind her house in the family cemetery, known today as the Stanfield-Walker Cemetery.

 

The Father and Son Generals

Graves of Jerome &
Felix Robertson

In the old stately Oakwood Cemetery in Waco, Texas lie the remains of a father and son who both survived many fierce battles during the Civil War, rose through the ranks to become generals and returned from the war to become successful in civilian life. The son, Felix Huston Robertson, was the only native-born Texan to serve as a general during the Civil War and by the time he died, had earned a singularly notable accomplishment.

The father, Jerome Bonaparte Robertson, came to Texas from Kentucky to join the Texas army in 1836. He served as a captain until he resigned his position in 1837. After getting married, he purchased some land and settled at Washington-on-the-Brazos where he opened a medical practice. Over the next 6 years, he was often away fighting in Indian campaigns and serving in the army to repel two invasions by the Mexicans. He managed to come back home often enough for his wife to give birth to three children, one of whom died in infancy. After finally coming back home with the intention of settling down, he became the town's coroner, post master and eventually was elected mayor. In 1847 he was elected to the State House of Representatives and in 1849 to the State Senate.

Jerome Robertson
In January, 1861, Jerome served as a representative at the Texas Secession Convention and soon after, raised a company of volunteers for the Confederate army. He was elected as its captain when it became an official part of the 5th Texas Cavalry under John Bell Hood. From that date forward, he was in almost continuous campaigns and battles, fighting with distinction in many famous battles such as the 7 Days Battle, Gain's Mills, South Mountain, Antietam, and Gettysburg. At the Battle of Gettysburg, Jerome and his men fought in the ferocious battles of Little Round Top and Devil's Den. In spite of being heavily outnumbered by the Union troops at Devil's Den, Jerome's soldiers accomplished their objective, suffering heavy casualties while doing so. By this time he had been made a general, but he still insisted on leading his men in charge after charge. In all the fighting he had taken part in over the last three years, he had never been hit, but during the last charge on Devil's Den, he was wounded several times. After recovering, he rejoined his unit and once again bravely fought in the Chickamauga Battle in Tennessee. Unfortunately (or perhaps very fortunately - how many times can one man be shot at and missed?), he then became embroiled in a bit of political infighting, came out on the losing side and was transferred to Texas where he commanded the reserve forces until the end of the war.

After the war, in spite of all the death and gruesome things he had seen and was a part of, Jerome simply moved back home and picked up where he left off, reestablishing his medical practice and with his son, investing in railroads and real estate. He died peacefully in his bed in 1890 at age 74.

Felix Robertson was born in Texas on March 9, 1839. He attended Baylor University and then West Point, but quit and offered his services to the Confederacy. He was commissioned a 2nd lieutenant in the artillery and took part in the bombardment of Fort Sumter at the beginning of the Civil War. Felix served with distinction in numerous less well-known battles and several famous ones such as Shiloh and Murfreesboro. At Chickamauga, he was in heavy action near his father. Amazingly, both father and son survived 3 days of fierce fighting in which there were over 18,000 Confederate causalities.

 
Felix Robertson
Felix steadily rose in rank and became a general like his father. In late 1864 though, his luck finally ran out and he was severely wounded in a battle near Augusta, Georgia. He would survive his wounds, but they were so severe that it ended his military service and he was sent home to Texas. While recuperating, he read law books and passed the bar exam to become a licensed lawyer. His partnership with his father investing in railroads and real estate proved to be a success and they both became financially well off.


Other than surviving against the odds, what notable accomplishment did Felix achieve? Not content with just being the only native Texan to serve as a general in the Civil War, when he died in Waco, Texas on April 20, 1928, he was the last surviving general of the Confederacy. 














 

Postcard From Goodnight, Texas

The road to Goodnight Cemetery
Sometimes you come across something on a road trip that is so unexpected, just so "right," that you have to stop and be grateful you are there at that particular moment in time. Goodnight, Texas, a near ghost town on Highway 287 on the edge of the Llano Estacado in the Texas Panhandle presented just such a welcome encounter.

The town was founded by Charles Goodnight who began a ranch here in 1887. The very next year, the railroad laid tracks and opened a station and soon, enough folks were around that a post office was established. A school was opened in 1889 and Charles and his wife, Mary Ann, established the Goodnight College in 1898.

By the time of his death at age 93 in late 1929, Charles had grown his ranch into a successful business, established a herd of buffalo (now the official Texas State Bison Herd) which preserved the animal from extinction, and was the dominant force behind the town which had grown to 300 residents and 9 business establishments. In 1940 though, Claude, another town down the road a bit, began to emerge as the county's business center and Goodnight began to fade. In 1963, the population had dropped to 50 when the movie "Hud," starring Paul Newman, was filmed there. Despite the popularity of the film, Goodnight continued to decline until the closing of the post office in 1969 when there were only 25 residents left. At the time of our visit, the town was virtually deserted and the population in the surrounding area was estimated to be less than 15.  

Entrance to Goodnight Cemetery
The reason for a visit to Goodnight wasn't to see where the town had been though, it was to visit the Goodnight Cemetery where Charles Goodnight is buried. Mr. Goodnight is one of those guys I've read a lot about, a sort of hero to me if you will, and I wanted to pay my respects. A true cowboy with few equals, he was actually born in Illinois, but came to Texas at the age of 10 and always claimed that Texas made him the man he was. A noted plainsman, Indian and Mexican bandit fighter, Texas Ranger, and cattleman, he and his partner Oliver Loving established the Goodnight - Loving trail over which thousands of longhorn cattle were driven to markets in the west. The true life exploits of Goodnight and Loving were so remarkable that Larry McMurtry based his award winning book, Lonesome Dove, on them. It has been proclaimed by some as the best western ever written and the TV mini-series made from the book starring Robert Duval (his character Gus McCrea was based on Loving) and Tommy Lee Jones (his character Woodrow Call was based on Goodnight) won 2 Golden Globes as well as 16 other awards.

Fenced in only by barbed wire, you can see for miles around.
The site of Goodnight and especially the cemetery are located in the middle of nowhere. You won't get there unless you are going there. I was glad I had found the coordinates to put into my GPS before trying to find it. Nestled among the low, gently undulating plains in the emptiness of the Texas Panhandle, it was somewhat surprising to find the cemetery to be fenced and well-kept. Even though it was small, it contained more graves than there are people living in the area. With just a soft blowing breeze, there were no sounds and no people as far as the eyes could see to disturb our cemetery exploring. It was very peaceful and very serene. Here you just naturally talk very little and when you do, you speak in whispers. Spending over an hour walking around, only one pickup truck was barely heard and barely seen driving down the road hundreds of yards away. In my travels over the years and with my interest in cemeteries, I've seen and explored a good number of them. Without question, this was one of the most tranquil I've ever come across. When it's my time to be laid in the ground, this would certainly fit the bill for my peaceful slumber.

Dozens of bandana's left in respect for Charles Goodnight.
The grave of Charles Goodnight and his family are very prominent. Right next to the single dirt road in the cemetery, the large plot is fenced and the headstones are larger than any others. What makes it stand out though are the dozens of bandana's tied on the fence that visiting cowboys have respectively left. There are a few other personal items left, some attached to the fence, some left on the ground, but the bandana's fluttering in the breeze is very touching and somehow humbling. These were symbols of respect from individual cowboys to one of the kings of cowboys.

I didn't grow up on a ranch, I've never rode a horse from sunup to sundown, I've never roped anything, I've never branded a steer or driven a herd of cattle, but I'm convinced I did in a former life. And I am a native-born Texan with a bandana and a love of wide-open spaces and freedom. I didn't have my one pitiful little-old bandana with me because I didn't know and didn't think about it. But I'll go back to the Goodnight cemetery one of these days, God willing and the creek don't rise, and I'll tie my bandana to the fence around Charles Goodnight's grave. A symbol of respect from a wistful wanna-be cowboy to a true cowboy. RIP, sir.










Plenty of room for those who want to rest away
from any others.
The quiet resting place of a military veteran.
A cowboy's grave
Lonely windmill in Goodnight, Texas