DUANE
Duane's take
Here's how the official marker tells it, and I'll do my best to do it justice. Now, most folks passing through Van Zandt County are thinking about where they're gonna stop for lunch, not about the Spanish colonial period in Texas. But the ground you're rolling over has a story worked into it — one that goes back to a time when this whole stretch of east Texas was a world of its own, and one man moved through it with a kind of quiet authority that very few people, then or now, could claim.
His name was Jose Francisco Calahorra y Saenz. His birth date, the marker tells us honestly, is unknown. But what we do know is that by 1730, he was already out here ministering to Native Texans as a Catholic missionary.
And he wasn't just going through the motions. He was respected — genuinely, deeply respected — by many of the Native people he worked among. So respected, in fact, that they would come to him and relay information about the activities of enemies of the Spanish.
That kind of trust isn't handed out lightly. That kind of trust is earned, slowly, over years of showing up and meaning it. Now, the year 1758 is where things get heavy.
A contingent — and we're talking approximately two thousand people — Comanches, Tonkawas, Tejas, Bidias, and Yojuanes — attacked the Mission Santa Cruz de San Saba, near what is present-day Menard. Two thousand. Let that number sit with you for a moment.
The Spanish responded with an expedition led by Captain Diego Parrilla. The world of east Texas was in motion, violent and complicated, and the consequences were rippling outward. And then something remarkable happened.
The Taovaya and Tawakoni leaders — leaders — came to Calahorra. They came to the missionary and asked for peace. They admitted a role in earlier attacks.
Now that takes something. That takes the kind of relationship where you believe the man across from you is actually listening, and that what you say to him is not going to be used against you like a weapon. After the Native Texans agreed to relinquish two captured cannons and to stop warring with mission Indians, Calahorra did something that tells you everything about who he was.
In 1760, he sent a letter to the Texas governor — Angel de Martos y Navarrette — asking that the Native Texans not be punished. He put his pen to paper and went to bat for people who had no guarantee anyone would listen. And the governor?
He gave his blessings and provisions. So in September of 1760, Calahorra set out — soldiers and others in tow — to visit the Tawakoni villages. He traveled roads that later became known as the Cherokee Road and the Kickapoo Trace.
The entourage arrived right here, in this very area, where a group of Native Texans met them and escorted the party on to their villages on the Sabine River. He came back in 1761. He came back again in 1764.
He worked diligently, the marker says, on behalf of the Ysacani-Tawakoni people. And he wrote it all down. His written accounts of these visits left valuable information for later historians, archeologists, anthropologists, and others who would come along trying to understand what life looked like here in those years.
In his later years, Calahorra taught at the college in Zacatecas, Mexico. On May 30, 1774, he died. No birth date.
A death date in May of 1774. Everything in between — the ministry begun by 1730, the two thousand warriors, the cannons surrendered, the letter to the governor, the September journey, the return visits, the written record — all of it carried forward by a man whose name most people passing through Van Zandt County have never heard. But the roads he traveled are still here.
And now you know who walked them.
What the marker says
During the Spanish colonial period in Texas, Jose Francisco Calahorra y Saenz (birth date unknown) served as a Catholic missionary to Native Texans. He began ministering in east Texas by 1730, and was well-respected by many Native Texans, who often relayed information to him about activities involving enemies of the Spanish. In 1758, a contingent of approximately 2,000 Comanches, Tonkawas, Tejas, Bidias and Yojuanes attacked the Mission Santa Cruz de San Saba, near present Menard. After the Spanish countered with an expedition led by Capt. Diego Parrilla, Taovaya and Tawakoni leaders came to the missionary to ask for peace, admitting a role in earlier attacks. After the Native Texans agreed to relinquish two captured cannons and to stop warring with mission Indians, Calahorra sent a letter to Texas governor Angel de Martos y Navarrette in 1760 asking that the Native Texans not be punished. With the governor's blessings and provisions, in September 1760, Calahorra journeyed with soldiers and others to visit the Tawakoni villages. Among the roads he used were what later became known as the Cherokee Road and the Kickapoo Trace. The entourage arrived here, where a group of Native Texans escorted the party to their villages on the Sabine River. Calahorra worked diligently on behalf of the Ysacani-Tawakoni people, and visited again in 1761 and 1764. His written accounts of these visits has left valuable information for later historians, archeologists, anthropologists and others. In his later years, Calahorra taught at the college in Zacatecas, Mexico. He died on May 30, 1774. (2009)