Contributing Writer
The Rio Grande through Texas represents a unique border. It was a lifeline long before it became a political barrier, and today it can still be considered both. Those of us who live in the Big Bend know this only too well.
No single person had a greater impact on the shape and boundaries of the American Southwest than William H. Emory. He is memorialized in Texas by Emory Peak in the Big Bend, and the Emory Oak. Even with a mountain and a tree named after him, few people know much about this polymath soldier-explorer. His association with West Texas came as a result of the U.S. – Mexican War and the need to determine a boundary after the conflict was resolved by arms.
On February 2, 1848, Nicholas Trist, on behalf of the United States, signed the Treaty of Guadalupe-Hidalgo, ending the war with Mexico. Included in this treaty were the transfer of California and the entire Southwest to the U.S. and the establishment of the Rio Grande as the boundary with Mexico. The Treaty stipulated that each government would appoint a commissioner and surveyor who, “shall meet at the port of San Diego, and proceed to run and mark the said boundary in its whole course to the mouth of the Rio Bravo del Norte (the Rio Grande).”
What appeared to be a rather simple task on paper was fraught with difficulty and political controversy. The maps of the period for the Southwest were grossly inaccurate, and the commissioners appointed by the U.S. government were barely competent. The first commissioner, A.H. Seiver died before he could take up his post, the second John Weller had the disadvantage of being a Democrat when the Whigs were in power, and thus he spent as much time fighting political battles as marking the border. The third commissioner, Lt. John Fremont, the Pathfinder, decided he would rather be appointed U.S. Senator from California. The fourth commissioner, John Russell Bartlett another political appointee, used his office to conduct a tour of Mexico all the way into the interior, miles from his assigned duty.
In the midst of all this confusion there was one man who was calmly accomplishing the task of running and marking the boundary as the treaty required: William Hemsley Emory. Born on September 11, 1811 in Queen Anne’s County, Maryland, Emory’s father arranged his appointment to the U.S. Military Academy when he was only eleven. For his daring at West Point he was nicknamed “Bold” Emory. Upon graduation he joined the Corps of Topographic Engineers, which accepted only the best and the brightest. The Corps was an elite unit that before the Civil War laid out roads, surveyed railroad routes, and explored the American West.
In 1838 Emory married Matilda Wilkins Bache, the great great-granddaughter of Benjamin Franklin and the daughter of Alexander Bache the powerful director of the U.S. Coast and Geodetic Survey, another unknown but important American. When the U.S. – Mexican Boundary Survey began in 1849 the Army provided an escort under the command of Emory, who was thus connected to the process from the beginning and would see it through to a satisfactory end.
In 1854, Emory accepted the appointment as actual Boundary Commissioner for the survey of the Gadsden Purchase, the last piece of the American geographic puzzle. William H. Emory bracketed the great years of Western exploration. His emphasis on walking the actual ground generated a massive amount of new knowledge. Brevet, or honorary rank, is normally reserved for those who distinguish themselves in battle. In a most unusual circumstance in 1857 Emory was awarded the brevet rank of Lieutenant Colonel for “meritorious and distinguished service as Commissioner for running the boundary line between the U.S. and the Republic of Mexico.”
Utilizing the resources of the Davis Map Collection for the first
time, this summer, opening May 12, the Museum of the Big Bend will
mount an exhibit on the U.S. – Mexican Boundary Survey. The exhibit
will include not only maps, but also survey instruments, and numerous
images taken from the various official published boundary reports.
Larry Francell has spent over thirty
years in the museum profession, half working for a variety of
institutions including the Dallas Museum of Art, and half as a partner
in a museum and art services company. Currently he is director of
the Museum of the Big Bend, but prefers porch sitting to work.