I was cleaning out some boxes
recently and ran across the January 1986 sesquicentennial edition of Texas Monthly magazine. In it was a
fascinating article called “Bane of the Baptists” by Gary Cleve Wilson, which
I’ve excerpted below. (This, of course, is why my cleaning process invariably
stalls out – I stop to read things.)
The article that distracted
me was about William Cowper Brann, who was described as “the most controversial
and widely read Texan of his day.” After serving as chief editorial writer on
the Houston Post, he moved to Austin
where he founded the Iconoclast, a
journal that by the end of 1894, its first year of publication, had a
circulation of 100,000. In effect, Brann was something like a pre-blogging
version of a blogger.
Brann took on Texas Baptists in
his writings, and Texas Baptists didn’t like it. Not one bit. Brann paid a high
price. The lesson: Don’t mess with Texas Baptists.
Nowadays, I see so much of
Texas Baptists’ complicity in clergy sex abuse and cover-ups, and so much of
Texas Baptists’ bullying and intimidation tactics against those who speak out
about abuse that, sometimes, I think some Texas Baptists couldn’t possibly get
any badder if they tried. But then I ponder the long history of connections
between Texas Baptists and the Texas Klan. And then I run across an article
like this one about Brann. And then I remember just how deeply entrenched
violence actually is in the institutionalized heart of Texas Baptists.
From “Bane of the Baptists:”
“What readers relished most
was the Iconoclast’s running war with
Waco, Baylor, and the Baptists. To Brann, that countrified Trinity exemplified
Victorian hypocrisy in its most splendid combination. When local preachers
thundered against prizefighting, Brann wrote, ‘If Corbett and Fitzsimmons were
to fight in Dallas today – without admission fee – Waco, the religious hub of
the world, would be depopulated. Half the preachers of Texas would go early to
secure front seats.’”
A prominent religious leader
of the day “christened Brann ‘Apostle of the Devil.’ The name stuck, and
Baptists began to pray for deliverance from that journalistic scourge. . . .”
“Then Antonia Teixeira came
along…. . A Brazilian missionary student at Baylor, Antonia boarded with
Baylor’s president, the Reverend Dr. Rufus C. Burleson. While there, she became
pregnant. In the summer of 1895 H. Steen Morris, a relative of Burleson’s, was
arrested and charged with her rape. Brann put two and two together, and it came
up ‘Baptists and a despoiled innocent.” He could ask for no better cause.
“’Baylor,’ Brann wrote, would
‘stink forever in the nostrils of Christendom – it is damned to everlasting
fame.’ It was as if the university itself had committed the rape. Baptists and
Baylor tried to defend their honor while Brann exploited the issue for two
years. . . .
“It was only a matter of time
before Baylor sympathizers would act. When Brann proposed the erection of a
monument commemorating Baylor’s taking ‘an ignorant little Catholic as raw
material’ and getting ‘two Baptists as the finished product,’ Baylor loyalists
figured they had had enough.
“On a Saturday afternoon in
October 1897, Brann was abducted at gunpoint and driven to the Baylor campus
for a lesson in humility. Beaten and threatened with worse, he was chased off
campus. A week later he was caned and horsewhipped by a father-and-son team of
Baylor partisans. Brann began to carry a gun and took shooting lessons. Six
months later he got his chance.
“Brann was to take a
well-earned vacation in the spring of 1898. He and his business manager were downtown
buying railroad tickets when from behind them stepped Tom Davis, a local real
estate investor and vocal detractor of Brann. Davis drew his pistol and shot at
the lanky editor. Brann whirled, returning fire. The two emptied their
six-shooters into each other as the late afternoon crowd stampeded. Moments
later Davis was lying in a pool of blood, and Brann – shot in the groin, foot,
and back – slid to the ground. He died early the next morning. Davis, hit six
times, died soon after Brann.
“No one has given Texas
Baptists much trouble since.”
Some things have changed
since Brann’s time, but a lot of things haven’t. To this day, people don’t tend
to give Texas Baptists much trouble, which helps to explain why stories like
the mega-scandal at the Prestonwood
Baptist mega-church can so easily get swept
under the rug with no accountability for the cover-uppers.
______________________________
This 1986 article also brings to
mind the extraordinary job that Texas Monthly magazine did with its early-on
reporting of the much more recent case of Texas Baptist minister Matt Baker,
who got his start at Baylor University, where a vicious sexual assault report was kept
quiet, and who moved on through a dozen more Texas Baptist churches, leaving
behind a trail of sexual abuse and assault allegations, all of which came to
light only because he was ultimately prosecuted for murder. (And truth be told,
Baker nearly got away with that as well.) It took a murder to finally bring to light Baker's history of sexual abuse and assault, and true to Texas Baptists' long pattern, there has still been no
accountability for the Baylor university officials and church
officials who covered up for Baker for so many years.