Judge Andrea Thompson

The Arcane Texas Fact of the Day is in regards to when the UT football team decided that the A&M football team played too rough/dirty and decided not to play the game for a few years. It's a great story. The hullabaloo blew up on Nov. 14, 1911, the morning after Texas had scraped out a 6-0 win over A&M at Houston’s West End Park — while fans of the two teams were busy waging a far more spirited contest in the bleachers. Back then, Varsity (Texas) and College (A&M) played each other about as often as two bored brothers in a lonely farmhouse, popping up in Austin, Dallas, San Antonio, and Houston as part of the Not-Su-Oh carnival — which, as Houston proudly pointed out, was simply “Houston” spelled backward, proving that civic creativity was alive and well even in 1911. The games at West End Park were rowdy from the git-go. In 1908, A&M students took offense to Texas students carrying broomsticks like rifles (I guess because nothing says “intimidating military display” like an army of janitors) — and a Texas student ended up stabbed. Somehow, this did not cool things down. Then came the real plot twist: after going 1-13-2 against Texas from 1894 through 1908, A&M suddenly rattled off three straight wins behind coach Charles Barthold “Uncle Charley” Moran seen on the right in the attached photo. Moran was described by one historian as the early 1900s’ answer to Bill Belichick, presumably minus the hoodies. Moran arrived in College Station announcing, “I didn’t come here to lose,” and he mostly didn’t. The Farmers whipped Texas twice in 1909, including a 23-0 roasting in Houston, and won again in 1910. Texas fans, wounded in both pride and scoreboard, accused Moran of teaching “slugging,” the era’s term for dirty football. Their chant went: “To hell, to hell, with Charley Moran and all his dirty crew. If you don’t like the words to this song, to hell, to hell with you.” A&M’s Caesar “Dutch” Hohn countered, “He taught rough football but I never knew it to be dirty. He taught winning football.” Translation: your mileage may vary. On Nov. 13, 1911, the teams met again at West End Park in Houston. Texas lost lineman Marlon Harold to a broken leg on the first play — which tells you everything about the ambiance. But then A&M’s A.R. Bateman fumbled, Texas halfback Arnold Kirkpatrick scooped it up, galloped in for a five-point touchdown (those were the days), and with the extra point, Texas won 6-0. The Chronicle said the upset “shook every office building in Houston,” and given the postgame brawl, that may not have been metaphorical. Fans tore through a picket fence, fists flew, and Kern Tips later called it “a dilly of a donnybrook.” Football historian Lou Maysel added that downtown Houston was unsafe “for anyone wearing Texas colors as bands of A&M students roamed the streets.” Two days later, Texas’ athletics chairman W.T. Mather wrote to A&M, very politely declaring a divorce: “I beg to inform you that the athletic council of the University of Texas has decided not to enter any athletic relations with the Agricultural and Mechanical College of Texas for the year 1912.” In the press, the mud-slanging made today’s social media fights look genteel. Texas team manager Stephen F. Pinckney said A&M “has earned a reputation for rotten athletics. … They admit trying to injure some of our men.” Lineman Marshall Ramsdell chimed in: “I never played in so dirty a game in my life… (A&M players) use brute force and break legs and arms and heads by slugging if necessary.” The Bryan Eagle fired back with the headline “Varsity Curses Sent Home to Roost,” and A&M athletic council president J.B. Bagley insisted, “The football team, the student body, the athletic council, the faculty and the alumni association have found nothing wrong in Mr. Moran’s systems or tactics.” With that, the schools went their separate ways. Texas lost just two games in the next three years and went unbeaten in 1914. A&M — fielding what many considered Moran’s best team in 1912 — outscored opponents 366-25 but nearly bankrupted itself without the Texas gate money. Eventually, former A&M players Hal Moseley and Joe Utay quietly opened channels with Texas, and in 1913 the Longhorns hired Theo Bellmont, a YMCA man from Houston who actually believed in diplomacy. On Nov. 30, 1914, the schools agreed to play again in 1915. Moran promptly resigned, citing “immediate pressure of other business” in Kentucky, received a full Corps parade, and wrote his players a farewell letter ending with: “If you still love me and think anything of me, then beat Texas.” They complied, winning 13-0 in College Station — a triumph that netted A&M a princely $3,429.07, or roughly what each school burns through each morning these days between checking Instagram and pouring another cup of coffee. Moran went on to coach Centre College, upsetting Harvard in 1921, then brought his Praying Colonels to Dallas for the Dixie Classic, the game where E. King Gill became the first 12th Man. He also spent two decades umpiring in the National League before A&M honored him after his death in 1949 for his “indomitable spirit and inspiring leadership.” Meanwhile, Bellmont helped found the Southwest Conference, launched the Texas-OU rivalry in Dallas, created the famous “blanket tax,” and presided over the building of Memorial Stadium, which still carries his name. All of which proves that, in Texas, nothing cools tempers and mends fences quite like the promise of beating A&M — or beating Texas — next year. The photo of Charley Moran is courtesy the Cushing Library at Texas A&M. P.S. There will be some Texas A&M-Texas content on TOT this week on account of I hear there's a big game in Austin in a few days.

Traces of Texas reader Jared Tye thoughtfully sent in this wonderful 1960 aerial shot of the courthouse square in McKinney, Texas. If you look closely, you can see the old J.C. Penney store above the courthouse, just right of center. The Courthouse Square was established when William Davis donated 120 acres of land to the Collin County Commissioners, and is a prototypical example of a so-called "Shelbyville Square." What is a Shelbyville Square? It's a specific public planning model that originated in Shelbyville, Tennessee, and became a widely adopted prototype for American small-town squares in the 1800s. This design features a central block with a courthouse, surrounded by a grid of equally sized city blocks. It is considered a foundational American style for town planning, impacting numerous small towns across the country. There are many such squares surrounding county courthouses in Texas. I believe that, of the 254 counties in Texas, 157 of them have Shelbyville squares. There have been at least four Collin County courthouses at this location. Thank you, Jared. Super duper interesting!

The Arcane Texas Fact of the Day? How Plano, Texas, got its name: In 1852, as key buildings were erected and more settlers came to town, the first medical doctor in the area, Dr. Henry Dye, submitted a request to name the nascent settlement "Fillmore" to honor Millard Fillmore, the U.S. president at the time. Postal authorities denied this request, countering with the name "Foreman,," after one of the original settlers of the area, William Foreman. Mr. Foreman wasn’t interested in having his name immortalized, so Dr. Dye suggested Plano. The word “plano” is Spanish for "flat." The doctor had offered a description of the area’s terrain as the city name and it was approved by Postal authorities. Mr. Foreman became the city’s first postmaster. By the way, 40 or so years later, in 1891, Plano looked like this: