Author’s Note: this is part of an occasional series of writings on topics that have a particular interest to me and which further the spirit of my work at West of 98. This essay was penned in 2019 to commemorate Texas Independence Day (March 2, for those not familiar with Texas historical lore) and I have republished it a few times on Facebook. I thought it would be worth sharing for my many new readers in 2024. Like these special essays? Let me know and I will make a point to sprinkle in a few more throughout the year!
📷: one of Texas’ first flags used during the revolutionary period in 1836
On February 28, 1836, Texas settlers were revolting against Mexico and had engaged in skirmishes and battles across Texas for five months. Around 185 men, led by William B. Travis and James Bowie, were under siege at the Alamo in San Antonio. Forty-one delegates arrived at Washington-on-the-Brazos (near present-day Brenham) for a convention to discuss Texas’ independence.
On March 1, the convention came to order and a committee was appointed to draft a Declaration of Independence. In 1776, the U.S. Declaration of Independence had been a laborious effort. The Continental Congress had been in session for months and debated the details of the declaration throughout May and June, finally appointing a drafting committee on June 11, 1776. Thomas Jefferson wrote a draft over several weeks. Subsequent drafts were reviewed, edited, and edited again, before the famed final approval on July 4. In Texas, it was a different story. The convention opened on March 1 and a drafting committee produced a document literally overnight. George Childress was the leader of the committee and it is probable that he arrived at the convention with a pre-written draft in hand, to expedite what seemed an inevitable outcome of the gathering.
On March 2, 1836, the convention adopted a declaration and declared Texas’ independence. The matter of actual independence would not be settled, of course, until Texas defeated Santa Anna’s army at San Jacinto on April 21. If you’ve never read the Texas Declaration, I encourage you to do so. For a 183-year old document, it’s very readable in a modern sense. It’s clearly inspired by the U.S. Declaration, but is also unique and specific to the plight of Texas’s settlers. The Declaration specifies numerous complaints against the Mexican government, from the general to the very particular, some of which were rarely discussed in the province before the revolution.
Among other things, the declaration complains that the Mexican government “has failed to establish any public system of education.” In a violent frontier province, schools had not been a major priority up until that point. As such, some historians view this part of the Declaration as a laundry list of dubious grievances, beefing up a case for independence. I see it as more forward-thinking. Childress and the other delegates listed what Texas would need to grow and develop as a free society and which Mexico seemed unable or unwilling to provide. This left independence as the best recourse. As we see public education constantly debated in the Texas Legislature, with many Texas elected leaders openly hostile to public education, this is particularly striking. Our revolutionary heroes saw public education, financed by “the public domain,” as a cornerstone of an ideal society, and something worth fighting and dying for, alongside national security, freedom of arms, absolute freedom of religion, and trial by jury.
60 delegates signed the Texas Declaration of Independence. Three men—Lorenzo de Zavala, Jose Antonio Navarro, and Jose Francisco Ruiz—were native born within the borders of Texas. The rest were immigrants. Interestingly, well over half the signatories (some estimates place the number as high as 50) had been in Texas less than 6 years. This means they arrived after the infamous Law of April 6, 1830, which barred immigration of Anglos into Texas. Thus, technically speaking, a large number of signatories were illegal immigrants under the laws of Mexico.
The personal stories of the men who signed the Texas Declaration of Independence, and our other revolutionary heroes, are complicated. Many had checkered pasts, either in Texas or wherever they came from. Some would have inglorious futures. Several would die soon. Others would fail in business or were beset by bankruptcy, personal problems, or controversy. This is the real world, not a Disney movie. Heroes are complicated humans, just like you and me, but that makes them heroes in that particularly instant no less. In fact, I argue that a complicated, flawed hero makes heroism seem more attainable to those who might one day have to answer the call themselves. Heroism is not and never has been a task limited to the flawless.
From 1836 to 2024, the story of Texas was, is, and will be beautiful, ugly, complicated, and contradicting, full of noble-minded people with noble-minded ideals, often struggling to live up to those ideals. We may not always succeed, but it doesn’t mean we shouldn’t keep trying.
Happy Texas Independence Day. May God bless Texas.
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James Decker is the Mayor of Stamford, Texas and the creator of the West of 98 website and the Rural Church and State and West of 98 podcasts. Contact James and subscribe to these essays at westof98.substack.com and subscribe to him wherever podcasts are found.