Sam Houston Odd Man Out In Love Triangle
On July 12, 1839, Sam Houston wrote his favorite pen pal, who was young enough to be his daughter, to say how much he missed her and his beloved Texas.
The three sides of the best known romantic triangle in Lone Star history first laid eyes on each other in 1833. Fourteen year old Anna Raguet had settled recently in Nacogdoches with her father Henry. Dr. Robert Irion, 15 years the beauty’s senior, had buried his wife the previous year, and Sam Houston was at 40 only four years removed from the scandalously short marriage to a teenaged debutante that led to his resignation as governor of Tennessee.
The night before Houston left to assume command of the rebel forces in January 1836, he was the guest of honor at a dinner hosted by the Raguets. Hearing the dashing hero grumble that he lacked a belt for his sword, Anna fashioned one from red cloth and presented it to him at his dawn departure the next day.
As soon as the Texans’ crushing victory was secure, the victorious general sent a sprig of laurel by special messenger to his young admirer. An enclosed note made clear the thought behind the gift: “These are the laurels I send you from the battlefield at San Jacinto. Thine, Sam Houston.”
Like most educated men of his day, Houston was a prolific letter writer and corresponded on a regular basis with dozens of individuals. But he seemed to take special pleasure in the steady stream of mail from the blond maiden. In October 1836, an astonished aide watched him plant a score of kisses on the latest letter from Miss Anna.
Up until then, Houston had shown little interest in severing the legal tie which still bound him to Eliza Allen back in Tennessee. But divorce suddenly became a pressing priority, and in April 1837 the republic he served as president issued the necessary decree.
Houston’s infatuation was such common knowledge that friends and those keen on currying his favor kept him well informed on Anna’s hectic social life. While admitting the parlor of “the brightest and loveliest star of Texas” was the busiest place in Nacogdoches, an accomplished flatterer gave the many suitors no chance against “the Conqueror who gave our banner to the breeze.”
Houston often wondered why Anna did not wed this or that young man and went so far as to review the qualifications of each candidate. His sincerity was clearly suspect since the real question may have been whether she considered him husband material.
He once came right out and asked the junior miss why she did not marry their personal postman, the good doctor Irion. Was sly Sam unaware of their mutual affection or giving her the opportunity to deny the rumored romance?
Nowhere in the extensive correspondence, which has survived the wear and tear of a century and a half, did Houston ask Anna to be his wife. But a letter penned in June 1838 implied that he had proposed marriage because it contained his pledge never to raise the subject again.
By contemporary standards, Houston was acting the fool and an old fool at that. He was 45 in the summer of 1838 – three years older than Anna’s father – and she was still in her teens. Even though the union of middle-aged men with females young enough to be their daughters was more widely accepted in those days, Houston’s conduct made him a laughingstock in some quarters.
Houston was between presidencies in 1839 and treated himself to an extended vacation. Passing through Alabama, he was introduced to Margaret Lea, a southern belle the same age as Anna with matching blue eyes.
In a letter to Dr. Irion soon after the chance encounter, Houston wrote, “You have basked this summer in the sunshine of Miss Anna’s countenance and must be very happy. She is a great woman! Who will marry her? If she were out of the way, I would be better off in my feelings.”
Eight months later, Anna was no longer on the market thanks to Robert Irion. They eloped over the objections of her father, who had a rich Philadelphia businessman all picked out, and exchanged vows on March 30, 1840.
While it is true that Houston did not exactly marry Margaret Lea on the rebound, the fact remains he tied the knot for the last time six weeks after Anna ceased to be available.
The two couples maintained a close and treasured friendship despite any lingering emotions from the three-sided relationship. The Irions honored the odd man out by naming their first son Sam Houston.
Anna Raguet Irion outlived her husband, who died on Houston’s birthday in 1861, by 22 years. She never mentioned much less discussed the carefully preserved private papers discovered after her death.
So if Miss Anna never loved Sam Houston, how come she held onto his letters for nearly half a century?
Bartee Haile welcomes your comments, questions and suggestions at haile@pdq.net or P.O. Box 152, Friendswood, TX 77549. And come on by www.twith.com for a visit!