Texas Beacons of the Past
By U.S. Sen. John Cornyn
Throughout history, lighthouses have enjoyed a mystique that goes well beyond their practical uses. They’re a symbol of strength and a beacon of hope along the beauty of a seacoast – a haven in a storm. They represent the adventure of a seafaring life, and provide a predictable guide to those who brave the dangers and uncertainty of the sea.
Among the original Seven Wonders of the Ancient World was the lighthouse on Pharos at the Alexandria Harbor in Egypt. History says a “wood fire burning on the top was visible for about 29 miles.”
America’s first lighthouse was built in Boston in 1716. Our image of lighthouses still runs to craggy, rock-strewn ocean coasts.
But the Texas Gulf Coast is home to lighthouses with great histories of their own. Their stories include uncoordinated assaults of war, storms, neglect and erosion. Most lighthouses that survived have now been made obsolete by modern-day technology. But at the dawn of the Civil War, there were a dozen lighthouses operating along the Texas coast.
Though some 80 percent of Texas’s coast is protected by seven barrier islands that protect the mainland from waves and storms, the need for those early lighthouses was clear: navigation problems included narrow and shallow channels, unpredictable sand, and mud and silt bars.
The first illumination was actually a lightship. In 1849, a schooner was moored about one mile outside Galveston Harbor to mark a hazardous shelf of sand and silt. Its fog signal was a bell, rung by hand, and a single lantern, containing eight oil lamps, was hung on its mainmast. Over time, of course, these lighthouses evolved from the use of oil to kerosene – eventually to electricity.
The lightship eventually sunk, was raised, and sunk again. A second Galveston lightship was moored in the harbor in 1870, and did its job for 35 years, withstanding the infamous hurricane of 1900. Dredging now keeps the harbor entrance clear.
Several lighthouses played a minor role in the Civil War. Their height was useful for surveillance, and both sides tried to stop the enemy from using the illumination.
One landmark lighthouse at Sabine Pass served the deepwater ports in Beaumont, Port Arthur and Orange. It was considered a Texas lighthouse, but actually sat 600 yards outside the state line, in Louisiana. Sabine Pass was the last lighthouse to go dark during a Union blockade of the southern coast in 1861.
Federal troops stole the Sabine Pass lighthouse lens, but it served through the war as a lookout post and provided an edge for southern forces in the Battle of Sabine Pass in 1863. The Aransas Pass lighthouse also saw Civil War action. Confederate forces tried destroy the structure, including detonating two kegs of black powder at the base in 1861, but it survived.
The Bolivar Point lighthouse, ushering ships between Galveston and the Gulf, was also leveled by southern sympathizers. Following the war, a second lighthouse was constructed out of brick, with a steel façade, and painted with white and black bands so it could easily be seen during daylight hours. This structure notably withstood the powerful hurricanes of 1900 and 1915, respectively.
Both landmarks are now in private hands. The structure at Bolivar Point was sold by the federal government to the Boyt family after World War II, and the Aransas Pass lighthouse has been carefully restored by Charles Butt, president of the HEB food chain.
The Aransas light, also known today as the Lydia Ann, still serves as an aid to navigation. According to one historical account, caretakers Rick and Cameron Pratt still activate a light every night, and the station’s flags are lowered to the drone of bagpipes – a fitting ceremony for a venerable landmark.
Today, only two other Texas lighthouses remain operational. The U.S. Coast Guard operates a lighthouse at Sabine Bank, which sits in the Gulf of Mexico. It also keeps a lighthouse at Matagorda Bay, in a State wildlife refuge.
The Texas State Historical Association (TSHA) has created a new website devoted to Texas lighthouses and lightships. No lighthouse preservation effort exists in Texas, but the TSHA is helping to raise awareness about the significant role played by lighthouses in our state’s history.
Sen. Cornyn is a member of the following Senate Committees: Armed Services, Judiciary, Budget, Small Business and Entrepreneurship, and Joint Economic. He is the chairman of the subcommittees on Immigration, Border Security and Citizenship and Emerging Threats and Capabilities. Cornyn served previously as Texas Attorney General, Texas Supreme Court Justice and Bexar County District Judge.
For Sen. Cornyn’s previous Texas Times columns: www.cornyn.senate.gov/column
By U.S. Sen. John Cornyn
Throughout history, lighthouses have enjoyed a mystique that goes well beyond their practical uses. They’re a symbol of strength and a beacon of hope along the beauty of a seacoast – a haven in a storm. They represent the adventure of a seafaring life, and provide a predictable guide to those who brave the dangers and uncertainty of the sea.
Among the original Seven Wonders of the Ancient World was the lighthouse on Pharos at the Alexandria Harbor in Egypt. History says a “wood fire burning on the top was visible for about 29 miles.”
America’s first lighthouse was built in Boston in 1716. Our image of lighthouses still runs to craggy, rock-strewn ocean coasts.
But the Texas Gulf Coast is home to lighthouses with great histories of their own. Their stories include uncoordinated assaults of war, storms, neglect and erosion. Most lighthouses that survived have now been made obsolete by modern-day technology. But at the dawn of the Civil War, there were a dozen lighthouses operating along the Texas coast.
Though some 80 percent of Texas’s coast is protected by seven barrier islands that protect the mainland from waves and storms, the need for those early lighthouses was clear: navigation problems included narrow and shallow channels, unpredictable sand, and mud and silt bars.
The first illumination was actually a lightship. In 1849, a schooner was moored about one mile outside Galveston Harbor to mark a hazardous shelf of sand and silt. Its fog signal was a bell, rung by hand, and a single lantern, containing eight oil lamps, was hung on its mainmast. Over time, of course, these lighthouses evolved from the use of oil to kerosene – eventually to electricity.
The lightship eventually sunk, was raised, and sunk again. A second Galveston lightship was moored in the harbor in 1870, and did its job for 35 years, withstanding the infamous hurricane of 1900. Dredging now keeps the harbor entrance clear.
Several lighthouses played a minor role in the Civil War. Their height was useful for surveillance, and both sides tried to stop the enemy from using the illumination.
One landmark lighthouse at Sabine Pass served the deepwater ports in Beaumont, Port Arthur and Orange. It was considered a Texas lighthouse, but actually sat 600 yards outside the state line, in Louisiana. Sabine Pass was the last lighthouse to go dark during a Union blockade of the southern coast in 1861.
Federal troops stole the Sabine Pass lighthouse lens, but it served through the war as a lookout post and provided an edge for southern forces in the Battle of Sabine Pass in 1863. The Aransas Pass lighthouse also saw Civil War action. Confederate forces tried destroy the structure, including detonating two kegs of black powder at the base in 1861, but it survived.
The Bolivar Point lighthouse, ushering ships between Galveston and the Gulf, was also leveled by southern sympathizers. Following the war, a second lighthouse was constructed out of brick, with a steel façade, and painted with white and black bands so it could easily be seen during daylight hours. This structure notably withstood the powerful hurricanes of 1900 and 1915, respectively.
Both landmarks are now in private hands. The structure at Bolivar Point was sold by the federal government to the Boyt family after World War II, and the Aransas Pass lighthouse has been carefully restored by Charles Butt, president of the HEB food chain.
The Aransas light, also known today as the Lydia Ann, still serves as an aid to navigation. According to one historical account, caretakers Rick and Cameron Pratt still activate a light every night, and the station’s flags are lowered to the drone of bagpipes – a fitting ceremony for a venerable landmark.
Today, only two other Texas lighthouses remain operational. The U.S. Coast Guard operates a lighthouse at Sabine Bank, which sits in the Gulf of Mexico. It also keeps a lighthouse at Matagorda Bay, in a State wildlife refuge.
The Texas State Historical Association (TSHA) has created a new website devoted to Texas lighthouses and lightships. No lighthouse preservation effort exists in Texas, but the TSHA is helping to raise awareness about the significant role played by lighthouses in our state’s history.
Sen. Cornyn is a member of the following Senate Committees: Armed Services, Judiciary, Budget, Small Business and Entrepreneurship, and Joint Economic. He is the chairman of the subcommittees on Immigration, Border Security and Citizenship and Emerging Threats and Capabilities. Cornyn served previously as Texas Attorney General, Texas Supreme Court Justice and Bexar County District Judge.
For Sen. Cornyn’s previous Texas Times columns: www.cornyn.senate.gov/column
