Book Review: The Taming of the Nueces Strip

On occasion I find a book that I cannot put down, that engrosses me to the point that the normal habits of the day get ignored and I stay up far later than I should.  It is a book that captivates the imagination.  I recently read one of those books.

I first became aware of George Durham’s telling of the story of Leander McNelly’s Special Force of Texas Rangers years ago when Dimension Films released the movie titled Texas Rangers.  I enjoyed the movie, being one that felt like a throwback to the classic western genre.  Leander McNelly fascinated me and I did some rudimentary research into the man, but that was about as far as it goes.  I knew he was born in Virginia, moved to Texas as a young man because consumption, and died young. That was it. The work it was based on, The Taming of the Nueces Strip, sort of slipped from my mind and attention, and life goes on.

Captain Leander H. McNelly

Then, a few months ago, my wife being as much as a historian as I (and researching for a novel that she is writing) found a biography of Captain McNelly at the local library, and as such the fascination with McNelly surfaced again.  I even pulled out my copy of Texas Rangers again and watched it.  My wife quickly lost interest because the story in no way matched the tale that McNelly’s biography told.  Sadly, according to sources with the Texas Ranger's museum in Waco, the producers were offered assistance in the film but declined it.

So it was time to read Durham’s account, as told to Clyde Wantland.

George Durham was born in Georgia during the War Between the States on a farm that suffered from Sherman’s March to the Sea.  “Dad outlasted the actual war,” stated Durham, “but he didn’t outlast Sherman. “  Did Old Man Durham die or was he simply broken by the devastation and Reconstruction of Georgia?  Durham did not make that clear other than the fact that all the family had left was a pillaged house and the clothes on their back.  But what he does make clear is that he came to Texas in 1875 for one reason – to find Capt. Leander H. McNelly.  His father had served under (or “worked for”) McNelly as a scout in Louisiana, and undoubtedly told stories that were larger than life.  The two men first met near Burton, Texas, just before the recommissioning of a ranger company to try to tame the lawless region between the Nueces and Rio Grand River.  “I had pictured the Captain McNelly I came to see to be a picture-book sort of Texas fighter. Big and hairy, with his pistols gleaming. What I had just seen could have been a preacher.  A puny one at that.”  The physique did not match the legend, as Durham would tell.  

Durham described himself as a farm boy, a husky lad, and enamored by the captain that would affect the rest of his life.   And he was there at the beginning. The next year was a violent crusade to stop the theft of South Texas cattle by Mexican bandits under the payroll of Juan Cortina (who incidentally had been a thorn in the side of Col. Robert E. Lee before his resignation that would mark his place in history). The law favored the bandits, and those that played by the "rules" were going to accomplish little.

Among the hardships were hunger, lack of funding by Gov. Coke’s administration, spies, and McNelly’s struggles with consumption (tuberculosis). Told in Durham’s country speak he strives to set the record straight about his time with “the McNelly’s,” and the crime that marked the region.   Later a cowhand and lawman, George Durham formative experience was his time as a ranger.  Even when old Leander McNelly was never far from his thoughts.  

Honestly, I can say that I will never be able to watch Texas Rangers again in the same way.  And that is okay.  I know the history now, thanks to George Durham, and the aforementioned movie will now to me become a b-roll Western which is fiction based upon truth, where only the names are the same, and then, not even those.

Mike Oldfield - Flowers of the Forest

In honor of the fallen at Flodden Field.

On September 9, 1513, the Scottish armies of King James IV, Scotland's monarch, and the brother-in-law to King Henry VIII, invaded Northumberland in retaliation for England's invasion of France.  Just before, King Louis XII had invoked with James the Auld Alliance, a mutual defense treaty against the aggression of English kings. 

James IV of Scotland                                                                                    Henry VIII of England

Battle of Flodden Field by Sir John Gilbert (1878)

Warriors of Flodden Field (Pinterest)

For a primer on the battle, go HERE.


The result was the largest single battle between Scotland and England.  It also resulted in the death of the last monarch in battle in English history.

News of Battle: Edinburgh after Flodden

Thomas Jones Baker (1815-1882)

Two hundred years after the battle, a poem entitled "The Flowers of the Forest" was written in memoriam of the Scottish dead of the battle, and later an air was composed and traditionally played on the great Highland pipes.   Today, the song is often played at the funerals of fallen soldiers, particularly those of Scotland. 

***

I've heard them lilting at our ewe-milking, 
Lasses a-lilting before the dawn of day; 
But now they are moaning on ilka green loaning- 
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. 

At bughts, in the morning, nae blythe lads are scorning, 
The lasses are lonely, and dowie, and wae; 
Nae daffin', nae gabbin', but sighing and sabbing, 
Ilk ane lifts her leglin and hies her away. 

In har'st, at the shearing, nae youths now are jeering, 
Bandsters are lyart, and runkled, and gray; 
At fair or at preaching, nae wooing nae fleeching- 
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away. 

At e'en, in the gloaming, nae younkers are roaming 
'Bout stacks wi' the lasses at bogle to play; 
But ilk ane sits drearie, lamenting her dearie- 
The Flowers of the Forest are weded away. 

Dool and wae for the order sent our lads to the Border! 
The English, for ance, by guile wan the day; 
The Flowers of the Forest, that fought aye the foremost, 
The prime of our land, are cauld in the clay. 

We'll hear nae mair lilting at our ewe-milking; 
Women and bairns are heartless and wae; 
Sighing and moaning on ilka green loaning- 
The Flowers of the Forest are a' wede away.


-- Jean Elliot

Mama's Lily by Jed Marum

I have decided that if music doesn't move you, you don't have a heart.

I don't know when I first heard Jed Marum's music, but I know when I first heard of Jed.  I had a coworker (Julia, it was you) that asked me if I had heard this Dallas musician that liked to sing Civil War tunes.  He had just released his Cross over the River album, and it was good.

Fast forward some years, and my wife and I began to attend Celtic Festivals.  The first one that I got to visit with Jed at was the Sherman Highland Games.  We talked Confederate history, Celtic heritage, kilts, and music.  Then he went away to perform.

Later, I visited with him at a Sons of Confederate Veterans convention where we were both set up as vendors.  Two interactions, but they were meaningful, and I consider him to be a friend.

Jed passed away in May, and I still find myself grieving.  Of all the music I keep on my phone, his I listen to the most.  So, you may find me posting a favorite tune - War Between the States or otherwise - from time to time.

This one is about two Union Irish soldiers that happen upon evidence that the horrors of war know no age, gender, innocence or guilt.  I get a catch in my throat each time with this song.

First Monday Trade Days

So today we did a very East Texas thing...

We went to First Monday Trade Days in Canton.  According to the trade days official site, the tradition of "first Monday" began in the 1850s and outgrew the original location on the town square in the 1960s.  Originally, produce, livestock, guns, and who knows what else were bartered and traded, with until the 1930s, wild horses making up a large part.  Now, the sky's the limit.

Photo from Flickr

We set out early because today was going to be a hot one, but the mornings are getting cool, so we lit out to be at the trade days by 9 am or so.

 We parked and checked out Dog Town - the section that has dogs, cats, rabbits and even livestock that is more akin to the ancient days of First Monday.  We recently had to rehome a retriever with a family because she just never got used to us or our lifestyle, so we were curious to see what we could find.  The home feels empty without a pup.

Lily and our cat Ashes.  She liked the cats, but never really seemed to like home.  Not sure why. We're good people.

Among our favorite places is I Am Erica's Flags (say it fast).  The gentleman that runs the store is very knowledgeable about his history and carries a huge selection of historic flags.  We fly our flags, and they wear out quickly, so we bought a couple of Third Nationals and a Bennington flag (Revolutionary War) for my classroom.  As it warmed up we walked the pavilions looking for gifts for Christmas.

The grounds are huge, with (according to the city) over 100 acres of space for 6,000 vendors. If you want high-end stuff, visit the pavilions.  If you want everything else, take a stroll through the open-air parts.

A big reason for our visit was to meet with dog breeders.  Many people come out to sell pets, but our purpose was to visit with people familiar with either Scottish terriers or West Highland terriers (Westies).  After a turn though, we didn't see anything, but one little shop had schnauzers and others, and when we asked if they knew of anyone with westies, they said they had one left of a litter at home (8 miles away).  They offered to bring it out, and we said okay, so after our other shopping they brought a little male westie that we fell in love with immediately.  

So guess who we brought home?

Canton First Monday is a spectacle that every Texan should experience at least once.  Some vendors come each month from other states as well.  A bit of advice: if you've never been, be aware that if you want to see it all you won't be able to do it in a day.  Want to RV it?  They have spaces for a fee.  Might make a fun weekend in the future.