It’s time for our March blog post,
so I have crawled out of the dark recesses of the archives to bring you a
selection of books on Texas Independence to commemorate Texas Independence
Day which was on March 2nd! Several of our collections have a nice swath
of different books and materials on Texas history—especially about the Alamo,
to no one’s surprise. While I didn’t
pull out any of those, (how can I pick between “The Alamo” and “The Fall of the
Alamo”?) I did find a few firsthand accounts of Texas at the time of its
revolution which, if you’re anything like me, you will find more engaging than
ten books about the battle at San Jacinto.
But first, since this is about
independence, we cannot forget to mention the document asserting such a
concept. The Signers of the Texas Declaration of Independence is a thorough
series of biographies for each man who signed the declaration back in
1836. If you’re looking to go a little
beyond Sam Houston, you might like to take a look at this book. Also of interest might be The Men Who Made Texas Free, an older
book on the same subject.
If you’d like to read about the
whole thing from beginning to end, but not out of a textbook, then I would
suggest checking out our signed copy of Texas
Independence by Andrew Jackson Houston, the son of the famous Sam
Houston. Obviously a biased report on
the subject, but a rare and interesting version to peruse.
Now, I know I promised firsthand
accounts, so here they are. First, I
have two books from men who traveled from Austria and Germany to Texas and
found themselves fighting in the revolution.
The first is Memoirs of George B.
Erath. Erath recounts how his
draft-dodging in Austria and thirst for something new and far away led him to
Texas, and how his job surveying land led him to fighting Comanches and then in
the Battle at San Jacinto, and even past that to the time of the Civil
War. Often I believe we forget that not
all of the men in Texas were originally American or Mexican. The other, With Milam and Fannin, tells a similar tale of the German Harman
Ehrenberg, who joined the Greys, a volunteer militia from New Orleans who
fought alongside the Texans. These
firsthand accounts of the fighting provide a more human look into what it was
like to be among those fighting for independence.
If you’re looking for someone a
little more famous, then we do have a copy of The Life of Colonel David Crockett, an autobiography/diary which
follows Davy Crockett from his youth all the way up to just before his death at
the Alamo, tied up by an epilogue of sorts from the editor. Unfortunately, I could find no official
record of his supposed quote “You may all go to hell, and I will go to Texas,”
but it is an interesting read all the same.
As before, I like to save my
favorite find for last, so here’s a little something I pulled off the shelf on
accident and knew I had to
include. It’s titled The General’s Tight Pants and no, it’s
not a romance novel about Sam Houston, though for a brief moment I had to
wonder. It is two letters sent from
Edward Warren, a man from Maine who was on a trip in Texas in the winter of
1836, right before the signing of the declaration. His letters include a description of Sam
Houston, whom he met, and explain that his pants were much too wet and too
small—which I find to be a strange detail to include in a letter to your
father, and yet, I know I would have said the same. The most fascinating bit about these letters,
besides the idea that a man from Maine would up and decide to just check Texas
out for no clear reason, is that he very nearly avoided being in San Antonio at
the Battle at the Alamo. Had his party
not changed routes at the last minute, he may well have been killed there by
the Mexican forces. It’s the sort of
thing that makes you think, what if?
Of course, we have a lot more about
the Texan Revolution (so many books about the Alamo! So many!) in our Beretta and Beretta-Nicholson collections, so if
you’d like to check any of them out, come on by Special Collections any weekday
during the school year between 1:15 and 5pm. We hope to see you
here!
--Darcie Marquardt, Class of 2016