Anderson Family History

THE ANDERSON FAMILY HISTORY
The Life & Times of Captain John Anderson
By: Mrs. Roy Anderson Crossley, Feb. 1964

 

Captain John Anderson, the first Anderson who came to Corpus Christi, was born in the little village of Ystad located on the southern-most tip of the mainland of Sweden.  He was born the 11th day of November in the year 1813 at a time when the Napoleonic Wars were just ending and Norway was given to Sweden for having lost Finland.  Sweden rules Norway from 1814 until 1905 when it was given its freedom.  Parliament, made up of the lower nobility and the rich merchants who took on dishonest ways, was again in control of the political power of the country.  America, the “Land of the Free†offered such an appeal to these people, who were tired of wars and political corruption, that by the late 1800's and early 1900's over a million Swedes left their country and settled in the United States.  We can assume, therefore, that John Anderson left his country for the same reason.

Although we know nothing of his parents or very little of his immediate family of brothers or sisters we know that he came from a stock of people well known for their seafaring blood.  It would be interesting to know whether his ancestors descended from the tribe of GOTHS who had lived in Sweden since about 300 B.C., or the tribe of SVEAR from the region of SVEARLAND for whom Sweden is named.  These two tribes began to intermarry in the 800's, so perhaps he could claim his ancestors from both the GOTHS and SVEARS.

Since 99 out of every 100 Swedes belong to the State church which is Lutheran I think we could safely assume that it was also the church of his faith as a child.  However, at the time of his death it was noted that Captain John Anderson was a member of the Methodist Church and had been for fifty years; that he had been a great worker in this church of his choice.

Swedes have a reputation for being intelligent, industrious, resourceful and friendly.  I feel sure Captain John Anderson had all of these qualities of character for he was known for his frankness, honesty of purpose and square dealings.

It is said that Captain John Anderson came to America when quite a young man, landing at Mobile, Alabama.  I feel that Captain John was at least 21 years of age at that time, which would have been the year 1834.  Since no mention is made of his coming over with his parents, he probably worked for his passage to America.  It is remembered that John Anderson had a brother, Andrew, who was in New Orleans at one time and that he was a sailor.  He went back to sea and was never heard from again.  Whether he established a home in America or in his native land of Sweden or perished at sea is not known.

Like most seafaring men, Captain John encountered some terrible storms on the seas during his numerous voyages.  At one time he was wrecked on the Isle of Pines, off the coast of Cuba, where he had a narrow escape.  Later at New Orleans, Louisiana he lost a fine vessel, but he never lost courage and soon had another one.

Captain Anderson first visited Kinney’s Trading Post (Corpus Christi) while delivering freight to General Zachary Taylor’s Army while it was encamped there in 1845 during the war between the United States and Mexico.  He was agreeably impressed with the bay and its surrounding territory.  It is interesting to note that with General Zachary Taylor’s Army in Corpus Christi at that time were Captain Franklin T. Pierce, later President of the United States; Colonel Jefferson Davis, later President Davis of the Confederate States of America; Lieutenant Ulysses S. Grant, later President of the United States; and young Braxton Bragg, Joseph Hooker, Robert E. Lee and many others destined to subsequent fame.

I feel sure Captain John also helped his fellow boat captains deliver the forty-niners and their personal belongings and equipment to Corpus Christi on their way to the gold fields of California.

Captain Anderson had been sailing ships and delivering cargo and passengers up and down the coast of the Gulf of Mexico for almost 20 years when he landed in New Orleans as Captain of the schooner “Troy.† There he met the captivating widow, Mrs. Hannah Bowen Yung, a native of Pottsville, Pennsylvania, and her small son, Christopher.  Since Captain Anderson was then 39 years of age he probably decided that if he was to have a home of his own and a family he should take unto himself a wife and begin establishing one, for in 1852 he and Mrs. Yung were married.

In 1853, the following year, he brought his wife Hannah, their infant son Andrew, and his eighty-year-old step-son, Christopher W. Yung, to Corpus Christi.  They landed at the older Ohler Wharf, just south of the Pleasure Pier of later years, on Christmas Day.  He built a one-story seven-room shell-crete residence of stout construction near the beach in the 600 block of North Water Street.  It was made of oyster shells burned to secure the lime and mixed with beach sand to make adobe bricks.  Walls of this construction were from 12 to 24 inches thick.

Captain John and Hannah Anderson were the parents of six children:

  1. Andrew Jackson Anderson, born November 27, 1852
  2. William Anderson, born October 12, 1855
  3. Charles Anderson, born July 2, 1857
  4. John James Anderson, born December 2, 1859
  5. Amanda Jane Anderson, born November 24, 1861
  6. Lillie Hannah Anderson, born March 21, 1864

All six of the Anderson children grew up in this house on Water Street and the two girls, Amanda and Lillie, were married in this same house.  They received their education at the best schools in the city: The Hidalgo Seminary, Cox’ School and Mr. and Mrs. Carpenter’s School.

This little village of Corpus Christi was where Captain John Anderson made his home for the remainder of his life, following the boating business and lightering vessels at Aransas Pass for Hunsacker and other merchants of the town.  And if Captain Anderson was like Captain Hull and many another sailor in those parts they made pretty good shipping at this port delivering lumber, livestock, feed, hides, salt, wool, a little cotton and even carrying passengers from point to point.

The population of the little town at that time was about 200 and snuggled itself on the bay with nothing on the bluff further inland except brush.  The settlers used strategy in building along the bay, using it to escape from desperados and the many Carancahua, Tancahua and Lipan Indians who roamed this country at that time harassing and killing numbers of white men in and about the townsite.  However, John and Hannah Anderson employed an Indian maid “Annie†to help with the care of the Anderson children.  She was more gentle and kindly than a majority of her race according to the eldest son, Andrew.

In sailing up and down the coast of Texas Captain Anderson found great deposits of salt 60 miles down the bay in the Laguna Madre and near-by lakes which at that time were extremely saline.  Evaporation would take place when the action of wind and tide washed the salty water up on the shore, leaving solid sheets of salt.  Thousands of bushels were made every summer in this manner.

Captain Anderson saw great possibilities of putting this salt to commercial use and about 1874 built a mill next to his residence on Water Street after the fashion of the windmills of Holland.  About 150 men were employed daily in gathering this salt in July and August before the rains started and washed the salt deposits away.  It would be coarse in the middle of the lake but close to the shore it would be fine and white as snow and very pure.  The coarse salt was cut away like ice and the rest was scraped up with wooden scrapers and wheeled out and piled up on the banks.  Then it was loaded on to many boats both small and large, some of which carried as much as 50 tons.  Then it was brought to the little mill where it was ground with power from the windmill to varying degrees of fineness: table salt, salt to preserve cow hides and meat, ice cream salt, and rock salt to feed cattle.  It provided salt for the people of the little village of Corpus Christi and neighboring communities.  In some instances the salt ground at this mill was hauled as far inland as Oklahoma.

After running the salt through the mill it was put in small and large bags and sold in its natural state.  It was sold at 20 to 25 cents per bushel.  The meat packers bought 50 pound lots.  They killed from 100 to 150 cattle at a time for the hide and tallow and used great quantities of this alt.  These packers were located at various points in this section, three large ones at Fulton, about three miles from Rockport; one at Ingleside; one at Flour Bluff; one at the Osos; two upon the Nueces River; and one on Padre Island.  One of the packing companies located at Fulton named Coleman-Fulton Packing and Canning Company of Boston, Massachusetts was the first large industry for saving all of the cattle: hides, meat, bones, and tallow.

Besides making salt usable, this little mill ginned cotton, ground corn, and sawed wood.  The cotton gin in the mill was run by hand and was no larger than a bedroom dresser.  It was fed from the front, and a roll of soft cotton was the result of its not very intricate machinery.  If a good wind was blowing the mill could saw about 10 cords of wood in a day in lengths to be used in the iron cook stoves being used at that time.  Wood was brought from White’s Point and as far up the Nueces River as Sharpsburg by boat to be cut at the mill.  It is interesting to note that in those days captains could take their boats up every river that reached the Texas Coast, up the Navidad and Lavaca; up the Guadalupe to Victoria; the Nueces to Sharpsburg; and far inland up the Rio Grande.

Finally, as the years went by, Captain John Anderson’s little windmill was no longer needed.  For some cause: that the salt was the accumulation of scores of years of evaporation and finally was exhausted, or that the salty stream that once oozed by the Laguna Madre lost its extreme salinity, Corpus Christi’s first commercial venture of exportation was no more.  The mill was eventually destroyed by the disastrous 1919 hurricane which swept away many of the old landmarks of earlier days built along the beach.

In 1854, a scourge more devastating than the savage redskins came to the port by water.  In the summer of that year a Mexican fruit vessel carrying oranges, lemons, limes, bananas, pineapples and mangoes arrived in Corpus Christi and opened a brisk trade with the fruit-hungry people of the town.  The air was filled with pleasant perfume of ripening fruit — and the almost deadly yellow fever germs.

Whether the infested stegomyia mosquitos were included in the fruit cargo or if there were yellow fever infected persons aboard will never be known.  Within two weeks the dread disease had broken out and the fever raged through the town until after Christmas, exacting its grim toll from every home.  Entire families were wiped out; children were left without parents, husbands without wives, and wives without husbands and children.  Scarcely a family escaped as the dreaded fever continued its ravages until finally the cold weather stopped its course.  The old military cemetery on the hill overlooking Nueces Bay became a city of the dead.

In 1860 Capt. John Anderson constructed the schooner “Flour Bluff,†which was the first boat his son Andrew was to command at the age of 17.  The “Flour Bluff†was a scow schooner with lee boards instead of center boards and it was used to carry freight down the lagoon to La Para and Laureles Ranches, owned by Capt. Mifflin Kennedy.  It was also used to carry salt from the salt flats from Captain Kennedy’s ranches.  This same boat was destroyed by the 1919 hurricane.

When Civil War broke out on April 12, 1861 with the attack on Fort Sumter, South Carolina Captain John Anderson, together with the other residents of Corpus Christi began preparations to defend their town.  On August 7, 1862 the quiet waters of the bay echoed with the thunder of cannon fire for the first time.  On the day before, a Yankee fleet of one steamer with three guns, two schooners and a sloop came to anchor in front of the town under the command of Captain Kitterridge.  The next morning the invaders came ashore in launches, white flags waving, and old Judge Gilpin went down the wharf with a white handkerchief flapping on the end of his walking came.  The whole town was there to watch him meet the Yankee commander.

Captain Kitteridge demanded as his right that he be allowed to inspect the public buildings of the port under the ensign.  On being refused this demand Captain Kitteridge stated that he would land in force to obtain his demands.  Old Judge Gilpin informed him that he would be attacked if he did.  Then Captain Kitteridge approached the crowd and said: “We’re going to bombard you and we’ll give you until 10 o’clock tomorrow morning to get the women and children out.† The people took the warning at 100 per cent of its value and lit out for the hills three miles back of town and set up a tent camp.  The Anderson family dug a hole in their back yard and buried their dishes and silver before leaving.  All the people were gone when the Yankees began firing next morning.

The Andersons and their fellow refugees found that they were not entirely out of danger, as they discovered when a cannon ball came speeding down through the brush.  After that episode, which disrupted the serenity of the tent camp, the Andersons and two or three other families removed themselves to Flour Bluff, where they occupied a one-room salt warehouse during the remainder of the assault.

At the end of the armistice, before the bombardment of the town got underway, major Hobby and his men, under the cover of darkness, completed a battery and mounted one 18 and one 12 pounder, smooth bore.  The vessels off-shore shelled the town throughout the day, and many houses were pierced with shot, shell and their fragments.

At sundown the enemy hauled off out of range, evidently in a crippled condition; the casualties on our side being nobody hurt and no material damage done to the battery.  Next day being Sunday, the fleet remained at the moorings and employed the day in repairing the damaged vessel.

Monday morning the flight again opened and maintained the same in all respects until 10 a.m. when the enemy landed, in all about 32 marines and six-pound rifled field piece upon the beach, about a mile to the north, and opened fire upon our battery, which had only a water front and was incapable of replying.

Steadily the shore battery of the Federals advanced until it came within 600 yards.  Major Hobby called for 25 men to follow him and they charged in spite of the gunboat volleys of grape, cannister and shrapnel and away went the Yankee Marines.  Henry Mate was killed and Major Hobby was wounded.  An eye witness, Mr. Eli T. Merriman, said that Henry Mate was in the act of shaking his fist at the enemy when he fell.  It is recorded that the excellent shooting of artilleryman Captain Billy Mann helped force the Federals to withdraw.  Their forces consisted of Hobby’s battalion, Ware’s cavalry, Neal’s artillery, Ireland’s infantry and citizens.

The fleet hauled off and the bombardment continued until dark, and in the morning took said and left Corpus Christi.  The enemy threw over 400 shot and shell.

A cannon ball had hit the Anderson house roof, falling into the hall and exploding.  It knocked all the plaster off the walls and ceilings of the shell-crete house.  The family cat, probably snoozing on a bench in the hall, must have been hit by flying splinters when the cannon ball whizzed through the walls, for when the Andersons came back they found old Tom with his head swelled to twice its natural size and one side of it skinned up like he had been knocked cock-eyed by something.

At this time Captain John Anderson held a commission as government pilot at Aransas Pass and Brazos Santiago.  Captain John, receiving an offer of $100 from a Frenchman to take him through Laguna Madre to Penescal Point, bravely raised his sails and started on the perilous jaunt.  Out near Shamrock Point the boat was accosted by two Yankee launches, and Captain Anderson was captured and taken to Yankee headquarters at Port Aransas.  He stayed there one week, but won his freedom after appealing to the commanding officer.

Because John Anderson returned with provisions, members of the Confederate Army, pleasantly comfortable with drink stronger than water, suspected treason and decided to string “old man Anderson†to a tree.  Informed of the hanging party at which he would be honored, Captain John hurried back to his boat and escaped into the friendly water of the bay.

When the commander of the boats was knocking holes through the houses with his cannon balls he never had any idea that he would be a guest of the little town n a few days.  One Sunday afternoon about two weeks after he had bombarded the little town, while members of the Anderson family were on the beach at “Anderson Point†at Flour Bluff, they saw a sloop with a cannon on it approach and land right in front of their house.  The captain got in a skiff and came ashore.  He introduced himself as Captain Kitteridge and wanted to know how they were living.  Later he sent some of his men out to the boat to get provisions for them.  An old man came by on a horse, which Captain Kitteridge eyed with pleasure.  He got on the horse and rode off, saying to twelve-year-old Andrew Anderson, “I’m going to kill a deer.† When he returned, he said to young Andrew, “Here, boy, feed this horse good.  I’ll be back.â€

Someone in the crowd tipped off the Confederate soldiers and they were ready when Captain Kitteridge returned.  This time he came ashore with 20 men.  They walked up to the house where the Confederates were hiding, took off their coats and guns and were captured easily by our men.  Young Andrew’s eyes got big as saucers he recalled later.  They brought the Captain and his men right back up to the little town where they had just shot the stuffin’ out of a few days before, and they sure were embarrassed at getting to met the people so soon, recalled Andrew’s younger brother William.

At the beginning of the war the Union Navy blockaded the entrances to Corpus Christi harbor, Corpus Christi Pass and Aransas.  Federal troops landed on the southern end of Mustang Island and established a camp.  Corpus Christi’s first fleet of boats gradually disappeared as they attempted to run the blockade.  Some may have escaped, but many were caught and burned.  A local truce was signed in February 1865 between General Lew Wallace, in command of Federals at Brazos Santiago, and General Slaughter, in command of Confederates at Point Isabel.  The war was over for all practical purposes and there was but one other raid made after this date.

Captain John Anderson’s daughter Lillie recalled that after the Civil War was over much confusion reigned in Corpus Christi and that her father and mother had to start life all over again.  The war had wrought havoc in the industries of the county and carpetbag government was in full swing.  However, a settled life was soon to bring hope and comfort to this God-fearing family.

Before the war a lighthouse had been constructed on the corner south of Buffalo Street at Broadway in 1857.  During the Yankee bombardment a cannon ball went through the wall on one side.  After the war a light was placed on a pole in front of this building for a signal to boats in the Bay at night.

But it was not a cannon ball that destroyed the lighthouse.  When the Confederate troops discovered the town was going to be taken by the Yankees they set a charge under the building which went off and knocked down the tower, or cupola, as the building was rectangular with a round tower which contained the oil burning light.  Captain Andrew Anderson recalled that the glass lens was a half-inch thick.

After hostilities ceased, gun powder was stored in the lower part of this building.  Captain John’s oldest son, Andrew, remembered this well.  In fact, he nearly got into trouble about it.

One day he and some other boys decided to try an experiment.  The door of the building was closed and the tall flight of steps that led up to the door in front of the building were in plain view of the business part of town.

The boys got in the building by climbing into a side window about ten feet from the ground.  The filled an old wooden churn with powder and lowered it out of the window by means of a rope.

There were seven boys in the group: Albert Allen, Alonzo (Ding) Allen, Frank Hooper, a boy named Fitzsimmons, Pete Gold, George Gold and Andrew Anderson.  Not thinking of their danger, just excited about their experiment, they carried the churn of powder back into a tangle of bushes until the bottom dropped.  The contents scattered over the ground.

Matches ere previous in those days and they had only two and failed to get a fire started.  Also, the powder was too coarse even to use in a shotgun.  Frank Hooper lived closest and was sent home for a firebrand.  He came back with a mesquite branch with one end afire which he had taken from the hearth.  Sudden-like action began.

The trail of powder leading to the spilled pile began spuing.  The boys left in all dirctions.  Andrew, who had been sitting on the bottomless churn, started to run but a stave of the churn caught up with him and struck him in the back.  The explosion was tremendous.  It was delightful.  The danger was terrifying, thrilling, too.  The smoke was thick and black.  Being a windless day, the smoke hovered in the air.

Constable Cannon who lived in a little house where Taylor Brothers Jewelry Store is located today, came to find out who had created the commotion and the gang of boys lit out.  They hid in the bushes about Salt Lake.  They got pretty hungry but they were afraid to go home for dinner.  In fact, they didn’t creep in town till after dark.

The boys were so frightened at what they had done, none of them told their part in the explosion till several years later.  One night the whole town was awakened by an explosion.  Someone had blown up what remained of the old Lighthouse on the bluff.  No one could find out who had done it, but it was whispered that it was thought two prominent citizens of the town did it because they considered it a dangerous place for children of the town to play.

In 1867 another yellow fever epidemic of much greater intensity than that of 1854 swept through Corpus Christi scarcely overlooking a single family.  And again in Sept. of 1873 the long-suffering citizens were revisited by this dread disease and the town was placed under quarantine.

Hundreds of citizens died, victims of this dreaded “black vomit.† So great was the scourge, the living could not care for the dead.  Three or four would be buried in the same grave.  Fences were torn down to build coffins.  Lumber on the ground to build Corpus Christi’s first Presbyterian Church was used for coffins.

Mr. Eli Merriman’s father was a doctor in the city at the time.  His treatment was to fill a wash tub with ashes and hot water and to make the patient plunge his feet and legs into it.  Then he was swathed in blankets and made “to sweat the fever out of his system.â€

In 1867 there were about 1,000 inhabitants in Corpus Christi and about 300 died of yellow fever.  From Galveston and San Antonio the scourge also took its dreadful toll.

In 1875 Corpus Christians were terrified in one of the last Mexican bandit raids.  In this raid three men were killed down at the Penescal at the Kennedy Ranch and Capt. John Anderson’s son, Andrew, brought the bodies back to Corpus Christi on his boat for burial.  John’s daughter, Lillie, was much impressed by seeing the three boxes loaded on wagons and hauled to the cemetery.

On one of the “Noakes†raids John Dunn and John McClaine raced through the town ringing a bell to sound the alarm and shouted:

“Close your windows and bar your doors.  The bandits are coming!â€

Groups gathered in the strongest houses in the town, shutting themselves in with all the weapons and ammunition they could collect.  A group of men stationed themselves on the bluff in order to defend the town.  The owners of the hardware store threw the door open and invited townsmen to help themselves to any gun in the store.

While the more timid citizens of the town had barricaded themselves in their houses, the more daring ones kept watch upon the bluff spending the night throwing up some sort of earthen breastworks.  W. G. Sutherland, newly arrived from Scotland, was commissioned to boil the coffee.

All during the long night he kept the fire and made one pot of coffee after another.  Finally, during the early hours of the morning, he grew bored and without giving a thought as to what the consequences might be, he took a bead on the pot full of hot liquid and pulled the trigger of his brand new, unused gun.

He shot the pot through and through and the coffee put out the fire.  Until it was discovered who had fired the shot and for what, there was great excitement and consternation.  For a fleet moment all who heard it thought the bandits had arrived.  Needless to say Mr. Sutherland lost his job.

This was the liveliest moment during these tense hours – until the bandit was brought into town and hanged.

However, forty-three miles from Corpus Christi the bandits had driven off all the horses on the Joseph Almond ranch.  All of the horses belonging to almond’s neighbors were also taken, which left these people with no way to get into town for groceries or supplies.

A few of the men got together enough mounts and followed the raiders across country and even into Mexico.  Some of the ranchers did not consider their animals from mustang stock worth eh price they would have to pay to recover them.  However, George Reynolds not only talked the bandits out of taking his clothes, but spent $300 getting his horses back from a barracks across the Rio Grande.  His horses were of fine stock from Kentucky.

Captain John Anderson saw his little village of Corpus Christi grow through the years that he lived there.  In 1852, the year preceding his arrival, it had been incorporated as a city and Benjamin F. Neal elected as its first mayor.

The business section of the town was located on Chaparral, Mesquite and Water Streets.  The medium of exchange at that time was silver and golden eagles, with no one wanting paper money.  The language most frequently heard was Spanish, because most of the trade carried on was with Mexican people.

During the middle 1870's to the middle 1880's Corpus Christi was the largest wool market in the world.  There were a million sheep in Nueces and Duval Counties, according to McCampbell’s “Frontier Seaport.† From 7 to 12 million pounds of wool were brought oxcart to Corpus Christi.  Shearers came twice a year from Mexico in groups of around 20 to each ranch, and each ranch had its own group of workers.  Ranchers thought nothing of driving to town alone for money to pay shearers.  Mrs. William Shely remembered canvas bags holding 500 silver dollars thrown on the floor at the ranch owned by her grandfather, Joseph Almond.  She and her brother used to play with them.

Wool was packed in bags of heavy sacking and measured about 3 x 5 feet.  Though each had handholds they were very heavy, weighing around 500 pounds, and it took two men to lifet them.  The bags were hung on an iron rim and men got in the sack and stomped down the fleece to make it hold more.  This was called a wool press.

The sheep decade was the most colorful of Corpus Christi’s history.  Oxcart trains from Mexico loaded with wool came to town and carried back merchandise, and the Mexican shearers returned home with their pockets full of silver.  To the carts were hitched from two to six teams of oxen over which the drivers cracked their long rawhide whips.  Mrs. Leona Givens recalled that she had seen drays, unguarded, haul through the streets 100 kegs of money from her father’s bank to the dozens of schooners and side-wheelers waiting at the wharves.  One year wool brought 30 cents a pound and that spring and summer, from 20,000 sheep, Joseph Almond received $11,000.  It was said that Captain King had a flock of 40,000 at this time.

For the benefit of customers from Mexico, especially men in charge of oxcart trains who could not read local signs, all the dealers in wool had symbols atop their buildings somewhat on the order of weather vanes.  David Hirsch had a star on top of a six-foot pole while he was in the wool business; Doddridge had a lamb; John Woessner, a black horse and N. Gussett, a rooster.

After the year of the “dieup†and the epidemic which killed nine sheep out of ten, many of the flocks were moved up-state, the wool tariff was lowered, the bottom dropped out of the sheep market.  But as late as 1896 the Corpus Christi Caller printed: “News Briefs: Wool lower; no demand.â€

It is recalled that much of the land owned by many families of this region was paid for with “sheep money.â€

Up until 1880 the Morgan and the Mallory Lines were running regular steamers between New Orleans, Morgan City and Corpus Christi once a week and in addition there was a mail boat from Indianola which arrived once a week until that town was swept away by a hurricane in 1875, then mail was delivered twice weekly from Port Lavaca.  There was a weekly stage to San Antonio and trade was carried on by wagon and oxcart.

By 1875 John Anderson saw Corpus Christi with a four-page weekly newspaper, “The Gazette,†some of which carried illustrations of cattle brands and warnings to people to respect same.  There were two churches, private schools, stores and a hotel.  The St. James Hotel, built in 1870, was located on the corner of Lawrence and Chaparral Streets.  The few streets were sometimes literally filled with oxcarts and wagons waiting to make the trip overland to Mexico.  The region was given over to large ranches, and cattle, sheep and horses were the chief products.  Many of the ranchers preferred to live in the city where they could enjoy the social life, and many of the homes in Corpus Christi were owned by stock men.

Captain Anderson saw schooners bring lake ice from Maine and New York.  It was cut in slabs four feet square and was packed in sawdust.  Storage for this ice when it finally reached Corpus Christi was a somewhat crude affair: a place dug back into the bluff about where the First Christian Church is today, in the 400 block of South Broadway.  Since the customers had no refrigeration it didn’t last long once it was delivered.

Captain John’s son, Andrew, recalled that the first artificial ice in Corpus Christi was made by a man named Bruin in a building where the Masonic Temple is now located in the 900 block of North Chaparral.  The capacity of this first plant was between 5 and 600 pounds of ice per day which was not enough for refrigeration of foodstuffs for all who would have wanted it but was ample for cold drinks and ice water.

Later Captain Richard King erected an ice factory in 1878, the equipment being a two and one-half ton Boyle machine with a plate tank.  George Blucher drove the first ice delivery wagon for this plant and later acquired possession of this plant naming it the Lone Star Ice Factory.

In 1876 the Texas-Mexican Railroad was started from Corpus Christi toward Laredo, but did not reach its destination until some years later.  At Corpus Christi its terminus was the old Central Wharf which extended out into Corpus Christi Bay sufficiently far to permit boats of moderate draft to tie up alongside.  For many years this railroad did a thriving business not only with the interior but with ocean going vessels as well.  It brought the products of the interior to vessels to be carried to the markets of the world and in return supplied people inland with the necessities of life.

The San Antonio and Aransas Pass railroad was the second railroad to be built in 1886.  This road connected San Antonio with Aransas Pass which received larger vessels in its harbor than Corpus Christi on account of the greater depth of water.

With the coming of the railroad the “bullteam†passed from Chaparral Street and the freighting of goods to the Mexican border was done by steam.

Captain John Anderson, being a seafaring man, naturally had a very keen interest in the development of the channels bringing the ships into Corpus Christi and the development of the little city into a busy port.

Henry L. Kinney ordered a dredge to have work done on the Corpus Christi channel as early as 1848.  In 1855 the construction of a channel was started and by 1857 the ship channel to Aransas Pass reached a depth to accommodate vessels drawing six and one-half feet.

The Rivers and Harbors Act of June 18, 1878, again contained the name of Corpus Christi, but this time there was also an authorization to survey “Aransas Pass and bay up to Rockport and Corpus Christi, Texas; and Corpus Christi pass and channel.â€

In pursuance of a report on this survey, the first actual appropriation by the Federal Government to improve the waterway facilities of Corpus Christi was contained in the Rivers and Harbors Act of 1879, in which the sum of $35,000 was appropriated for improvement of the waterway facilities.

The following year $65,000 was appropriated, and in 1881, $80,000; 1882, 100,000; 1884, $100,000; 1886, $101,250; and in 1888 another $100,000.

Captain Anderson also saw the Erie Telegraph and Telephone Company (Western Union) established in 1880 in Corpus Christi, the Up-to-date newspaper “The Corpus Christi Caller†established in 1882, and the Corpus Christi National Bank organized and the Cal-Allen water plant construction started in 1890.

The Anderson family nor the rest of their fellow townsmen were soon to forget the coming of a certain Colonel Ropes to Corpus Christi in 1889.  He had a vision of the wonderful possibilities of this lovely little town snuggled beside the beautiful crescent shaped bay of Corpus Christi with its balmy Mediterranean-like climate.

He bought land on the bluffs overlooking the bay, laid out a city having a magnificent parkway and ocean drive along the bay front.  This combined driveway and park was 300 feet in width beginning at the south side of Corpus Christi and extending southward a distance of four miles to the Encinal Pasture.  He laid out 200-foot boulevards a mile apart extending from the line of cliffs westward to the townsite’s edge.  There was also a great central boulevard running north and south 100 feet wide about the center of the tract.  And diagonal avenues crossed the mile squares intersecting the great central boulevard in circles, just as was done in Washington, D. C., and in Paris, France.  The breadth of Colonel Ropes’ vision could not have been appreciated at that time since there were no automobiles to congest his boulevards and since the migration of the people from the country to the city had not started.  His plans were marvelous but they were too far ahead of his time and consequently were doomed to failure.

Ropes also had a vision for developing Port Aransas into a busy and beautiful port.  In 1890, while Port Aransas was called Ropesville, Ropes had a pass dug about midway of Mustang Island.  “The waters of the Gulf kissed the waters of Corpus Christi Bay,†but it wasn’t a long embrace.  The pass was filled by shifting sands right away.  The dredge was left high and dry and was seen for many years back of the first row of sand dunes as a relic of this era.

In 1893 the money panic that hit the country ended the Ropes boom.

The Anderson family shared yet another terror with their fellow townsmen during these times.  Besides the Mexican and Indian raids, yellow fever epidemics, civil war and droughts, fires were another scourge that filled the whole town with a constant dread.

The late William Rodgers organized the first fire department before the glowing coals of his burned home, in 1871.  It was made up of volunteers and most of the important citizens of the community were a part of it.  The next year the hook and ladder company was formed.  Captain Sam Shoemaker operated the first fire engine.  Once when he was ill and a substitute took his place the engine was blown up.

The fire department had box wells along the shore and at the end of each street, they had piers onto which they backed the fire engines using hand pumps to get the water.  When there was a big fire these were inadequate and bucket brigades were used.

Miss Amelia Daimwood remembers as a small child when fire swept the 200 block of Chaparral and burned her father’s house among five others.  The bucket brigade worked manfully but did not stop the flames.  Because of the high wind the entire business section of town might have been burned if a shall-crete building had not stopped the fire.

When the old Blossoman and Thompson Building, which stood where the Furman Building is today, caught fire, the fire department used all the water from the cisterns around as well as from the box wells at the waters edge, then by-standers rushed into a hardware store and grabbed buckets and formed a brigade.

But the fire had too great a headway.  It looked like nothing could be done.  The entire block would be burned.  Possibly the fire would spread to other blocks.

Jack Boland, the fire chief, ordered all the men off the roof.  It was impossible to save the building.  Their lives were in danger.

M. P. Craig rebelled.  He shouted: “Get an ax.  I’ll get under the roof and put it out!â€

Some obliging person ran for an ax.  With it Craig cut through the roof of the building and crawled into the inferno.  With his prompt and heroic act the fire was finally put out.

Such terrible occurrences as these gave the people of Corpus Christi reason for great rejoicing when water was finally piped over the residential section in 1892.  The “Corpus Christi Caller†expressed their feelings in its headlines: “Shout The Glad News!  Waterworks Are A Great Success!  Everybody Happy!  Hydrants are opened and water gushes out with tremendous force.  The city is safe against fire!â€

For many years the Fireman’s Ball that was held annually was something the whole town looked forward to.  A gaily decorated hall was filled to over flowing and musicians vied with one another for the best programs to keep the citizens dancing until the wee hours of the morning.

Living through such harrowing frontier experiences as John Anderson did took an exceptionally strong constitution.  The hearty Norse stock from which he sprang stood him in good stead throughout his 85 years.

The love of the sea was very strong in Captain Anderson and he taught his sons to hlep him with his boats when they were a very early age, and his four sons: Andrew, William, Charles and John were all sea captains.  Captain Andrew Anderson’s son, Ben Anderson, was a seafaring man.  The son of Lillie Anderson Rankin, Harold Rankin, was pilot of the tug “Miraflores†which brought the first ship “Ogontz†into the port of Corpus Christi after its opening Sept. 14, 1927.  And the grandson of Captain William Anderson, Roy Anderson Crossley, is the last of the line of John Anderson’s to follow the sea and ships as an occupation.  A curious fact is noted in that John Anderson was born November 11th, 1813 and Roy Anderson Crossley was born December 10th, 1913 ---- exactly 100 years later.

When Captain John Anderson passed away August 19th, 1898 he left many friends to mourn his passing and Corpus Christi had lost one of its oldest and most respected citizens who was truly a land mark.  He was buried in the Old Bayview Cemetery.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT:

I wish to express thanks to Miss Mary Rankin for letting me borrow her mother’s scrapbook which made possible the gathering together of this first-hand account as recorded in the newspaper clippings saved from accounts written while they were fresh in the memory of those who lived during these times.

Matiel      (Mrs. R.A.C.)

Sources used for this history:

The World Book Encyclopedia, 1958 edition.

Newspaper clippings found in Lillie Anderson Rankin’s scrapbooks:

“Pathfinders of Texas 1836-1846 by Mrs. Frank DeGarmo

       Ancestor: Captain John Andersonâ€

“Capt. Anderson’s Biography Continuedâ€

“Captain John Anderson, Another Old Citizen And Land Mark of Corpus Christi Passes         Away.â€

“Capt. William Anderson, Who Has Lived Here For 82 Years Tells of Times Gunboats

       Came Into Corpus Christi Bay “ By Oran Warder Nolen

“Capt. (Andrew) Anderson, 89 Today, Wants To Go Back To Boats†By Katheryn Page

“Capt. J. J. Anderson†(Capt. John J. Anderson’s death notice — May 18, 1935.)

“Earns Nickname After 30 Years†    (Capt. Harold Rankin)

“Chronological History Gives Vivid Picture†  1839 — 1939

“Corpus Christi, City That Arose From A Mission’s Ashes†    By Jerry D’Unger

“Story of Old Salt Mill Here Is One That Has Salty Tangâ€

“Old Salt Mill On Water Street Recalledâ€

“The City Plan For Corpus Christi†     By E. A. Wood

“Yellow Fever Killed Many Early Settlers†     By Dee Woods

“Yankee Cannon Ball That Hit Lighthouse Is Saved†     By Dee Woods

“Dunn and McClane Were The “Reveres†of Noakes Raid†    By Dee Woods

“Caller Shouted The “Glad News†When Water Was Piped Over City Residential

       Section In 1892"      By Dee Woods

“Ropes Tried Pass Across Mustang Island In 1900"    By Dee Woods

“Chris W. Yung†  (Death notice)     By a Friend.

Transcription by: Rosa G. Gonzales