Sachse Historical Society

Sachse Historical Society This is the Sachse Historical Society's Facebook where we share information about our community and our organization. There is no entrance fee.

Open 2nd and 4th Saturday's from 11-3

Our 3rd Sachse Train Day is on track to roll in on July 25, 2026! Mark your calendars for this fun family event!
05/31/2026

Our 3rd Sachse Train Day is on track to roll in on July 25, 2026! Mark your calendars for this fun family event!

05/31/2026

During the Revolutionary War it took a skilled soldier 20-30 seconds to load and fire his musket. That must have seemed like an eternity when the enemy was firing back at you, or worse yet charging toward you with a bayonet.

Loading required several steps. First, a gun was “half-c**ked,” that is the hammer with the flint attached was pushed back. Then the steel covering over the flash pan (called a frizzen) was opened, a small amount of gunpowder was poured into the pan, and the frizzen was snapped shut (so the powder in the pan wouldn’t spill out during the other loading steps). Then, with butt of the musket on the ground, powder was poured down the muzzle of the gun, followed by the lead ball and paper wadding. Next the gun’s ramrod was removed from its holder and used to ram the ball and wadding down the barrel. Then the ramrod was returned to its holder (“channel”) and the hammer was pulled back to fully c**k the weapon. Finally, the soldier would raise and point the gun in the direction of the enemy, then squeeze the trigger. The spark caused by the flint striking the steel would ignite the powder in the pan, which would in turn ignite the powder in the barrel, causing the gun to fire.

To expedite the process the soldiers carried their ammunition pre-made into paper “cartridges,” which held the powder and ball. When loading, a soldier would reach into his cartridge box (a pouch, usually leather, that he wore over his shoulder), take out a cartridge, bite off the end of it, pour a little powder into the pan, pour the rest down the barrel (with the ball), then push the paper into the barrel and ram it all down with his ramrod.

Because gunpowder won’t ignite if damp, it was necessary that the cartridge boxes be waterproof. Although sometimes made of tin, they were usually leather with a heavy leather flap designed to keep the powder dry.

The images are photos of a cartridge and a cartridge box.

05/31/2026

Summer Reading is officially here! ☀️ Click the link in our bio or here for full program details: https://zurl.co/7H5Ji

05/31/2026

Planes fly over the Battleship Texas in an undated photo. Traces of Texas reader Mark Strom thoughtfully sent this in and asked if I had ever seen this shot before and I don't believe I have. It's a great image. I think the planes are Mustangs, but I'm just spit-balling. Hopefully somebody who knows more about this will show up and edify us.

05/31/2026

May 30, 1776 — The Franklins: While Benjamin Builds a Nation, William Clings to Royal Authority

Two hundred and fifty years ago today, William Franklin made a final bid to restore British authority in New Jersey—just as his father helped lead the movement to end it.

An unwavering Loyalist—and the son of Benjamin Franklin—William formally summoned the colonial General Assembly to reconvene at Burlington. The Assembly had last met on December 6, 1775, when it affirmed loyalty to King George III and rejected independence. It was expected to meet again in January—but instead, Franklin was placed under a form of house arrest.

By May, the political ground had shifted.

Confined, watched, and without real power, his proclamation was less an act of governance than a futile gesture—an attempt to assert authority that no longer functioned.

That made the contrast all the sharper.

Benjamin Franklin was not sidelined—he was fully engaged. He had just returned from inspecting the failing American campaign in Canada. As a longtime imperial official turned revolutionary leader—printer, postmaster, and now a central figure in the movement for independence—he was helping lay the groundwork for a new political order.

Father and son saw the same conflict and drew opposite conclusions.

William Franklin saw a rebellion against a world empire—one he believed the colonies could not ultimately defeat. Benjamin Franklin saw an opportunity to build something new: a nation grounded in self-government, unwilling to be subdued.

In New Jersey, that divide was already settled in practice. The Provincial Congress exercised real authority and had no interest in reviving a loyalist assembly.

When William issued his call, the response was not compliance but resistance. His proclamation was treated not as leadership, but as provocation.

The moment revealed more than the collapse of royal government. It exposed a deeper fracture—within a colony, within a cause, and within a family.

William Franklin’s declaration was not the restoration of authority—but its last echo.

And that’s the way it was, May 30, 1776.

05/23/2026

The Arcane Texas Fact of the Day is a follow-up to yesterday's: 190 years ago today, on May 23, 1836, Dr. David C. Kerr removed splinters of bone and drained Gen. Sam Houston's ankle wound, which Sam had received at the Battle of San Jacinto. Amazingly, the threat of gangrene abated, and recovery was rapid. As accolades poured in, Houston particularly cherished one from Pres. Andrew Jackson, who said that Houston had won a greater victory than his own at the Battle of New Orleans, saying that Houston had attacked while Jackson's action "had been defensive."

Ironically, it was the SECOND time Sam had been fixed up in New Orleans after a battle. 22 years earlier, in 1814, Houston fought in the Battle of Horseshoe Bend, fought between the U.S. Army and Creek Indians after the Creeks massacred 400 white settlers at Fort Mims, Alabama. Houston was a soldier with the 39th Infantry.

On March 26, 1814 Jackson trapped the hostile Creeks on a tight loop of the Tallapoosa River called Horseshoe Bend 136 miles south of the Tennessee line. Jackson cut off the Creeks retreat by having his Cherokee steal their canoes, then attempted to wear down the fort with artillery, When he finally ordered an assault, it was the 39th Infantry that spear-headed it.

Dr. Randolph Campbell, Historian stated: “The first soldier over was Lemuel Montgomery, and he was killed. It was he for whom Montgomery County, Alabama was named. The second person over was Houston, and he took an arrow in the thigh. Then in spite of Jackson’s telling him to stay out of the battle, he continued and he was hit twice more with rifle balls in the arm and the shoulder. He was wounded to the point that after the battle doctors looked at him and said he’ll not make it through the night, don’t pay attention to him.”

Dr. Greg Cantrell, Historian stated: “Those wounds never healed, and he had to learn to lance his own wounds and drain them and redress them all of his life. Remember, he was only 19 or 20 years old at the time.”

When Sam returned to his mother’s farm, he was so skinny that she did not recognize him. But she and his family had heard of his heroics, and he returned a hero. After a rest, he was sent to Washington for further medical attention where he saw the ruins of the Capitol and the White House burned by the British, then he was transferred back to New Orleans where a second musket ball was finally removed from his shoulder in an operation that nearly cost him his life. Mind you, all of this was before anesthesia was invented.

I'm telling you folks that people were just REALLY tough back then!

05/23/2026

May 23, 1776 — Martha Washington and the Fight Against Smallpox

Two hundred and fifty years ago today, Martha Washington quietly faced a danger as real as any battlefield threat: smallpox.

She chose to undergo inoculation—known at the time as variolation—a risky procedure that deliberately introduced a mild case of the disease. A small incision was made in the skin, and infectious material was inserted. If successful, the patient gained immunity. If not, the consequences could be severe. Even in success, strict isolation was required to prevent spreading the disease.

Martha made this decision in May 1776 while near the Continental Army at Cambridge. Her husband, George Washington, had survived smallpox years earlier and understood its devastation. The disease had already weakened the army and was widely feared—often more than British arms.

At this point, however, Washington had not yet ordered a general inoculation of the troops. The risks of triggering an outbreak during an active campaign made such a decision uncertain and controversial, leaving open the question of whether—and when—the army itself should undergo inoculation.

Martha Washington’s choice reflected both personal courage and a growing recognition: the Revolution would not be decided by muskets alone. Disease could determine the fate of armies—and the cause itself.

And that’s the way it was, May 23, 1776

05/23/2026

May 22, 1776 — When Faith Forbids Fighting, But Liberty Calls

Two hundred and fifty years ago today, in the Moravian town of Salem, North Carolina, a religious community faced a dilemma shared by other pacifist believers across the colonies: how to support a struggle for liberty when their faith forbade them from fighting for it.

The Moravians believed deeply in freedom of conscience. Their community had been built around the ability to worship according to their beliefs, free from interference or coercion. In an age when established churches and state power often went hand in hand, that mattered deeply.

Many American colonists increasingly feared that British rule threatened not just their political rights, but the broader principle of self-government—the idea that distant authorities should not dictate the lives, liberties, and beliefs of free people. For the Moravians, that raised a hard question: if liberty of conscience was worth preserving, how should they help defend it?

Their faith gave a clear answer on one point. They could not bear arms. They could not recruit others to fight. To do so would violate deeply held religious convictions.

But doing nothing was harder to justify.

On May 22, 1776, the Salem congregation gathered in their Gemein Haus to consider North Carolina’s call for support following the Halifax Resolves. Their answer reflected that tension.

The Brethren pledged financial support, agreeing to “bear our share of the burden of the land,” while refusing military service. They would support the cause of preserving their civil and religious liberties—but not through violence.

The same dilemma confronted Quakers and other peace churches across the colonies. Many sympathized with the desire for liberty and protection from arbitrary government, yet believed conscience forbade war. Revolutionary leaders increasingly had little patience for neutrality. If pacifists would not serve in the ranks, many believed they should contribute in other ways—through taxes, supplies, or civil obligations.

The Revolution’s promise of liberty included freedom of worship and conscience. But for those whose conscience forbade violence, protecting that liberty created one of the era’s deepest moral tensions.

And that’s the way it was, May 22, 1776. This has been a Semiquincentennial Minute.

lots of great activities at the library this summer!
05/23/2026

lots of great activities at the library this summer!

Address

3033 6th Street
Sachse, TX
75048

Opening Hours

11am - 3pm

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+19724966577

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