DUANE
Duane's take
Here's how the official marker tells it, and I'll do my best to do it justice. Now, picture this: Mexico, in the year 1830, is watching Anglo settlers pour into Texas like water through a cracked dam. Alarmed — and that's the word the record uses, alarmed — Mexico sets out to erect a line of forts to keep the intruders out.
And for one of those forts, they reach all the way back to the ancient Aztec name for Mexico City itself. Tex-ox-teet-lan. Tenoxtitlan.
It means prickly pear place. Which, if you've ever tried to push through a thicket of prickly pear in August, feels like a warning as much as a name. The fort goes up here in what is now Burleson County, founded by Mexico as a bulwark — their word, bulwark — against Anglo-American immigration.
And the military commandant of the region is so hopeful about this place, so convinced it is going to hold the line, that he envisions it as nothing less than the capital of Texas. That's ambition. That's a man with a plan.
But here is where the story takes its turn, and it is a quiet turn, which is sometimes the most telling kind. Anglo immigration did not cease. It did not slow.
Instead, it thrived — thrived, mind you — on the friendship of the local soldiers and the incoming pioneers. You build a fort to stop the flood, and the flood makes friends with your guards. The colonizer Sterling C.
Robertson comes through introducing scores of settlers, and the whole enterprise of keeping the Anglos out starts looking less like a bulwark and more like a welcome mat. By 1832, Mexico withdraws the soldiers. And the fort, without a fight, without a siege, simply defaults to the Anglos.
Just like that. Now, in its brief life — and it is a brief life — Tenoxtitlan punches well above its weight in Texas history. It becomes a supply center, a mustering point for expeditions against the Indians.
And the people who pass through here, who live here for a spell, read like a roster of the Texas story itself: five signers of the Texas Declaration of Independence, a martyr of the Alamo siege, seven soldiers of the Battle of San Jacinto. All of them, at some point, walking this ground. And then — because apparently once wasn't enough — during the days of the Republic, somebody floats Tenoxtitlan's name again as a candidate for the capital of Texas.
Second time this place gets that kind of attention. Second time it doesn't quite get there. Austin wins out.
By 1841, after many Indian raids, the site is abandoned. Founded to keep Texas from becoming what it became. Twice nominated for a capital it never got to be.
A place named for the prickliest plant on the prairie, and in the end, just as hard to hold onto. That's Tenoxtitlan.
What the marker says
Founded by Mexico as a bulwark against Anglo-American immigration, this fort and its nearby city were twice proposed for the capital of Texas. Alarmed by the influx of Anglo settlers into Texas, Mexico in 1830 sought to erect a line of forts to keep out the intruders. The ancient Aztec name for Mexico City (originally pronounced "Tex-ox-teet-lan") was given this site; it means "prickly pear place". So hopeful of the fort's success was the military commandant of the region that he envisioned it as the capital of Texas. But Anglo immigration did not cease. Instead it thrived on the friendship of the local soldiers and incoming pioneers. The colonizer Sterling C. Robertson introduced scores of settlers. In 1832 the soldiers were withdrawn and the fort finally defaulted to the Anglos. Subsequently it was a supply center and mustering point for expeditions against the Indians. During its brief life many Texas patriots lived here, including 5 signers of the Texas Declaration of Independence, a martyr of the Alamo siege, and 7 soldiers of the Battle of San Jacinto. Tenoxtitlan was again suggested for the capital of Texas during the Republic, but Austin won out. In 1841, after many Indian raids, the site was abandoned.