190 years ago today, in a shack at Washington-on-the-Brazos, 59 Texians signed the Texas Declaration of Independence. Among them—who signed his name with the same flamboyance of John Hancock—was Sam Houston, who was also celebrating his 43rd birthday.

General Houston has become for Texas what King Arthur is for Britain: a legendary figurehead, almost more a myth than a man.

And there is much to say about this myth. I could ramble on and on about the tumultuous turn of events that led to his arrival in Texas, how his leadership was tried and tested throughout the fight for independence, how—by nothing short of providence—he led the victory at the Battle of San Jacinto, and the political battles he fought in the decades that followed, culminating in his refusal to take the oath to the Confederacy out of love and loyalty to a united America.

But just as interesting as his role in the Texas Revolution was the revolution that occurred in his heart, the often-overlooked story of how God drew Houston to Himself.

By no means was Houston ever unfamiliar with Christianity. He was raised in a Presbyterian home, and the content of his writings at various points in his life show respect for the faith and some degree of acceptance of it. Yet at the same time, through his life leading up through the Texas Revolution, he was hardly a man any would call devout. He earned the nickname “Big Drunk” among the Cherokee. He was brash, eager for a fight or duel. Beat a congressman with a cane.

But by the end of his life, something had changed. He quit drinking, quit swearing. He went to church regularly. He became more interested in God, wanted to see his children do the same. He was more willing to forgive. So what happened?

Early in his childhood, Houston attended a church service with his mother that would stick with him for decades to come. There, he heard a sermon on ​1 Corinthians 11​ about the seriousness of communion. Houston walked away from the service under the impression that if anyone is not truly a believer, partaking of communion “would thereby seal their damnation forever.” (See the Letter from George Baines that follows.)

Later during his childhood, Houston abandoned the mundane duties of school and chores to run off and live among the Cherokee for a brief period. The tribe he found welcomed him as one of their own. There, he was exposed to the pagan native beliefs and traditions, which—like Christianity—he also showed respect toward. (Later in adulthood, Houston crossed paths with Alexis de Tocqueville, ​who conversed with him​ about the religious beliefs of Indians.)

But his childhood time with the Cherokee was only for a time, and before long he returned to American life. He became a protege of Andrew Jackson and in due time was elected to be the governor of Tennessee.

Riding high, he soon became engaged to a young lady, Eliza Allen, of a prominent family in Nashville. But the marriage was short-lived (in practice, not on paper). Within a few weeks—and for reasons Houston never let come to the light of public knowledge—the newlywed couple became estranged.

It was at this point that Houston, in his desperation, turned toward the church for hope. He sought to be baptized and join the local Presbyterian church. But between his silence on the falling out, the prominence of the Allen family in the community and church, and Houston’s reputation as a worldly man, his request to be baptized was declined. So he resigned his governorship and fled where he would be welcomed—to live with the Cherokee once again.

Fast-forward through another short (albeit less dramatic) marriage to a Cherokee widow, the beating of a congressman with a cane and subsequent weeks-long public trial in the House of Representatives, and the Texas Revolution up to the Battle of San Jacinto: there, Houston led the Texian forces to the final victory against Santa Anna, but not without sustaining some injuries. The doctor recommended Houston be taken to New Orleans for medical treatment, so that’s where he went.

When Houston arrived in New Orleans, he was greeted at the docks by a large crowd of enthusiastic Americans cheering on the hero of Texas. Among those in the crowd was Margaret Lea, a young woman who cried at the sight of Houston. It wasn’t the last that she would see of him, and deep down she somehow knew that.

In a few years’ time, their paths crossed again and they quickly fell in love despite some big differences. There was a 26-year age gap, she came from a Baptist family, and she was devout—fully committed to God and fully committed to living like it. Her family had their (strong) reservations about Houston, but soon the two were wed.

Margaret quickly won Houston over to giving up his vices—or, at least, one of his core vices: drinking. But it was not just an outward change that she wanted to see in his life. She wanted to see him turn his life over fully to God. She prayed for him constantly. She urged him over and over to go to church.

When Texas became a state, Houston was the top pick to be one of its senators. For Margaret, who was not fond of traveling and had young children to care for, the appointment was a disappointment. But as happens with many things in life, the seemingly bad thing turned out to be perhaps the best thing that could have happened.

Margaret urged Houston to attend a church while he was in Washington. To that point, he had largely evaded her urges to take spiritual matters more seriously. But he obliged her request—and followed through with it.

He stepped into E Street Baptist Church, led by George Whitefield Samson, who was also the fifth president of what is now George Washington University. Houston introduced himself to Samson, saying that he was there out of “respect for his wife, one of the best Christians on earth.” Week after week for the next 12 years, he would come in and listen to the sermon while whittling away, looking up whenever something from the message would catch his attention. On Sunday afternoons, he would write letters to Margaret, updating her on life in Washington and Samson’s sermons.

Over time, evident to Samson and Margaret, Houston’s interest and love for God grew deeper and deeper. Something clicked in his soul and he became a changed man. Samson recorded his observations years later, after the death of Houston, for ​a biography​ that was written on the Texas legend.

Margaret continued to urge Houston to be baptized and formally join a church, but he was still hesitant to take that step of obedience because of his concerns stemming from that childhood sermon on communion.

Talking to George Baines, another minister back in Texas, Houston said, “I enjoy a sweet peace of mind in believing in the Lord Jesus as my Saviour, yet I know it is possible that I may be mistaken in this matter. And if I should be, then should I join the church and commune unworthily, there would be no possibility ever to correct the sad and awful mistake.”

Baines offered a different interpretation of the passage, which eased Houston’s concerns.

On November 19, 1854, Houston was slated to be baptized at Independence Baptist Church. News of the event had spread throughout the community and was the talk of the town. The baptism was to take place in a coffin-shaped baptismal, but it was discovered that morning that some pranksters had filled it with sticks and mud.

Not to be deterred, Rufus Burleson (also the president of Baylor) moved the baptism down the road a few miles to Rocky Creek.

After the baptism, a friend told Houston that he heard his “sins were washed away.”

Houston replied, “I hope so. But if they were all washed away, the Lord help the fish down below.”

In his letter detailing Houston’s faith in retrospect, Samson concluded: “The angels see more clearly; they know who truly repents, and they rejoice over him; they come when he dies to bear him to their home; and they will gather all such with unerring certainty into one band, in the day of the revelation of God’s righteous judgment. It is more than a hope, it is the intelligent confidence of his long-attached pastor, that Sam Houston will be there found among that band.”

Letter from George Whitefield Samson

The following letter from George Whitefield Samson was included in response to the writing of ​The Life and select literary remains of Sam Houston of Texas​.

My Dear Sir— Your letter, asking that I would note down for your use any reminiscences of General Sam Houston that might be of value in your proposed Memoir is received. It is, of course, in reference to his religious character and life that you will expect me to reply. Of his views as a statesman, and of his course in his political life, it did not belong to my relationship as a chosen pastor to take account; and others to whom that field belongs can supply all you desire.

It is natural to men of the world, and even to Christians, so far as they are controlled by worldly interests, to entertain doubts of the sincerity and genuineness of the professed religious conversion of such men as General Houston. The prophet of the Old Testament realized this when he asked, “Can the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? Then may ye also do good that are accustomed to do evil” (Jer. xiii. 23). It is yet more to be expected that “Israelites, indeed,” like Nathaniel, men “in whom there is no guile,” will ask, “Can any good thing come out of Nazareth?” (John i. 46-47.) When men who have for years been under the control of passion and worldliness profess to have experienced a religious change, their conduct will, undoubtedly, be more closely scrutinized than that of men outwardly moral. Yet it is ever to be remembered that men of blood, and of towering appetites and passions, like David and Saul of Tarsus, become the most manifest marks of the power of God to redeem fallen human nature; the one, “a man after God’s own heart,” though a murderer and an adulterer; the other, “breathing out threatenings and slaughters,” yet a “chosen vessel to bear Christ’s name to the Gentiles,” though the churches of Judea could not believe for years “that he was a disciple.”

Shortly after the annexation of Texas as a sister State to the American Union, the tall form of ‘Sam Houston,’ as he was familiarly called, draped in his Mexican blanket, as a shield against the blasts of winter, at Washington, was seen one Sabbath morning entering the sanctuary of the Baptist church on E Street, near the City Hall. Frankly approaching the pastor alter service, he said that respect for his wife, one of the best Christians on earth, had brought him there. When the hope was expressed that feelings deeper, and obligations more imperative than those which bound him in devotion to a companion so worthy, would soon bind him to the house of God, a warm pressure of the hand, and a hearty response to the suggestion, showed that there were convictions beyond what were avowed that struggled in his mind. From that time, for twelve years, always in the morning, and often at night, he might be seen seated in a pew near the pulpit. For a time, mechanically, and from habit, he appeared provided, as in the Senate, with his pocket-knife and bit of pine, carving some little work for his own or other children, yet frequently arrested in his employ, and, looking up intently to catch some connection of thought that struck him in the sermon. In a few months the service seemed to absorb all his thoughts, and the whole outline of the discourse was so noted, that he could write it down in his Sunday evening letter to his wife.

Not many months after, a sermon from the text, “Better is he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city” (Prov. xvi. 32), seemed to rivet his attention. The fixedness of his gaze naturally drew the preacher’s to him, and the interest manifested by the hero of so many battles gave, doubtless, a turn and an unction to some suggestions thrown in by the speaker and observed by the special hearer, though none others in the audience took notice of it. Often afterward General Houston referred to that sermon as having fastened convictions of his own need and duty upon his mind from which he could never rid himself.

As the sermon referred to seemed to have been blessed in convincing him of his sinful need, so a series of evening discourses on Old Testament examples of Christian faith, delivered some months yet later, had the effect of guiding him to the grounds of hope, and of Christian redemption for men of his character and life. After separate discourses on Paul’s catalogue, in the 11th chapter of his letter to the Hebrews, first, on the three antediluvian examples of saving faith, Abel, Enoch, and Noah; next, on the four of the patriarchal period, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph; then of the two in the transition period of Israel’s origin as a nation, Moses, the law-giver, and Joshua, the military founder of the Hebrew State; the four men around whose history clusters the interest of the reign of the Judges, Barak, Gideon, Jephthah, and Samson, were each made the theme of a sermon. Strange specimens of Christians these men were admitted to be; doubtful sharers of the thorough redemption, and the genuine renewal which faith in the Redeemer, then to come, always gives. Men they were, who, from their external conduct alone, presented in the Old Testament history of their lives as military and civil leaders, we should never dream were men of humble faith in God; but whose “life hid with Christ in God” Paul is inspired to bring out, for the instruction and comfort of kindred spirits in these last days. As the circumstances of the age in which these men were depicted, an age of settlement in a new land, of conquest over rude and heathen tribes, and even of border and intestine warfare among independent and jealous States not yet consolidated into a nationality. General Houston followed the narrative, and seemed to ponder the resemblance to times and circumstances through which he and thousands of his comrades had passed. When little hints from the inspired record of their lives in the Book of Judges were made to reveal their meaning in the strong light of Paul’s statement about them, statements which, as the great apostle unto the Gentiles, of that Gospel which, four hundred and thirty years before the Law was preached unto Abraham, he was inspired to make, and it was made to appear that men leading so rough a life might yet be genuine servants of God and be redeemed by Christ, Gen. Houston’s whole soul appeared to be absorbed in the contemplation. He, too, became a sincere believer in that same Redeemer.

It was his practice, as intimated, to spend his Sabbath afternoons in writing to his wife, not only incidents of the week, but abstracts of the sermons that he heard. Often her replies, sometimes commenting on the doctrine, often urging the exhortation of the sermons reported, were read with intense interest to the pastor. Some of these are treasured as instructive and pleasant memories. Among these remembrances were comments on a discourse of the Rev. Dr. Dewey at the Unitarian Church. The General had expressed his wish to gratify some friends of Dr. Dewey by hearing once, at least, this great and cultured expounder of the history and moral lessons of Jesus as an unequaled human teacher. No mind could have better discriminated than his did, between the excellence and value of all that was urged by the preacher, and that omitted “truth as it is in Jesus,” on which he could alone rely as his own personal hope of redemption.

His reading became more and more decidedly religious; and what he had found valuable to himself he was fond of imparting to others. He early expressed a wish to obtain a copy of “Nelson on Infidelity,” of which he had heard as eminently adapted to men of his caste of mind. Its perusal so met his own intellectual demands, that he sought, through the same source, several copies for distribution to some of his special friends, whose religious views he thought needed such an aid. At another time he procured several copies of the “Western Sketch-Book” and “Adam and David,” by Rev. Mr. Gallagher, the eloquent and devoted Presbyterian pioneer in the Mississippi valley, whose subsequent service as Chaplain of the House of Representatives was so blest to many. One set of these volumes, elegantly bound, he presented to his attached Washington pastor; whom, for years before his public Christian profession, he always called “brother.” On another occasion, to aid his own Bible study, as well as to facilitate that of those whom he most esteemed, he bought three copies of that expensive work, “West’s Analysis of the Bible,” one of which volumes he presented to his wife’s pastor in Texas, and a second to his own pastor at Washington.

During the session of 1854 he expressed his conviction that he ought to make a profession of religion, by the public ordinance of baptism. The question was debated whether he ought to receive this rite, and make that public consecration in the presence of his associates in Congress at Washington, or amid his family and early companions in his Texan home. The scale turned in favor of the latter suggestion.

On his return to Congress the next winter, many eyes were on him; and the tests of his thorough and fixed devotion of himself to God were anxiously looked for by his pastor. They became at once apparent, and remained immovable. Calling early after his arrival to see him, an hour was spent in conversation on his profession, and the grounds which had led to it. On rising to leave, the pastor was followed as usual to the door, and, as often happened, the General asked: “Brother S., is there anything I can do for you?” His reference being to claims of humanity, sometimes presented to him. The reply was, “No, General, I have no tax upon you at present.” Immediately, however, the recollection was awakened that the next Sabbath was the season for the Lord’s supper, and that with one of the leading brethren of the church. General Houston had formerly a trying, and yet unsettled controversy, in his official capacity as the head of a Senate Committee. At once, prompted by the recollection, the pastor added, still holding his hand, “General, I recall that statement in part; I have nothing to ask of you as a man, but I have something to ask of you as a Christian pastor.” Fixing his keen eye, as he looked down upon mine, he meekly but firmly asked, “What is it, brother S.?” “General,”was the reply, “you know the alienation between you and brother W. You will meet at the Lord’s supper next Sabbath evening; you ought not to meet till that difficulty is settled. Now I wish you, after service on Sunday morning, to let me bring you two together, and without a word of attempt at justification on either side, I wish you to take him by the hand, and say with all your heart, that you will forgive and forget and bury the past, and that you wish him to do the same, and hereafter to meet you as brothers in Christ.” The fire began to glow in his eyes, his brow to knit, his teeth to clench, and his whole frame shook with the struggle of the old man within him; but in an instant, the man whose passion had been terrible, indeed ungovernable on so many a bloody battlefield, was changed from the lion into the lamb. He meekly replied, “Brother S., I will do it.” And, what he promised was done, and in an air of majestic frankness and nobleness of soul, such as moved every beholder. From that hour I never have doubted that General Houston was a man renewed by the Holy Spirit.

Many a time the Christian pastor is asked if he thinks such and such an one baptized and received into the fellowship of the church, perhaps a playful child, a pleasure-loving youth, a morose head of a family, a miserly business man, can be a Christian. If such men as Jephthah and Samson and David and Solomon could be true servants of God, because saved by faith, not by works of righteousness, then such men as Sam Houston give the strongest of all testimony that they are born of God. The pastor, the wife, see that life hidden with Christ in God, shining out so often and so brightly, that they can not err in judgment. The world, and even the mass of Christians who see only occasional exhibitions of Christian principle, seldom called out in the routine of busy life, should trust these better judges. The angels see more clearly; they know who truly repents, and they rejoice over him; they come when he dies to bear him to their home; and they will gather all such with unerring certainty into one band, in the day of the revelation of God’s righteous judgment. It is more than a hope, it is the intelligent confidence of his long-attached pastor, that Sam Houston will be there found among that band.

— I am, your brother, G. W. Samson.

Letter from George Washington Baines

The following letter from George Washington Baines was included in response to the writing of ​The Life and select literary remains of Sam Houston of Texas​.

When Gen. Houston made a public profession of religion I was living at Anderson, in Grimes County, Texas, and serving the church at Brenham, Washington County. I heard of the revival meeting at Independence, where Gen. Houston then lived, and of his conversion.

On my way to Brenham, on Friday, I went by Independence, and rode up to the General’s gate about dusk.

Sister Houston saw me, and came out to meet me, evidently excited, and exclaimed: “Oh, Bro. Baines, I am so glad to see you. Gen. Houston has professed religion, but says he can not join the church, and I want you to talk to him about it, for I know he has the greatest confidence in your knowledge of such things. Communion is his difficulty. He says he can never take the communion elements, because, while he thinks he is a Christian, yet he may be mistaken, and if he should be, then by eating and drinking unworthily his damnation would be sealed.”

She further said that brother Burleson and others had tried to satisfy him, but had failed, and she was very anxious for him to see me. He was gone to the meeting, and I did not see him until we met at the table next morning. There he proposed to ride with me on my way to Brenham, which he did.

On our way he said to me: “My wife and other friends seem anxious for me to join the church, and I would do so if I could. But with my present convictions, which I received when a boy, it is impossible.” I then asked him to state his convictions, which he did as follows; said he: “When I was quite young I went with my mother to the Presbyterian church, of which she was a member. It was a communion season, and the great Dr. Blackburn preached. During the communion service he quoted the passage in Corinthians which sets forth the fearful danger of eating and drinking unworthily, and urged the awful necessity that each one of the communicants should be very careful in examining himself lest he should not really be in the faith—not be a real Christian—and therefore not be worthy to eat the emblems of the sacred body and blood of the Lord Jesus, and he told them plainly that if they should thus eat and drink unworthily they would thereby seal their damnation forever.”

“Now,” said Gen. Houston to me, “while I enjoy a sweet peace of mind in believing in the Lord Jesus as my Saviour, yet I know it is possible that I may be mistaken in this matter. And if I should be, then should I join the church and commune unworthily, there would be no possibility ever to correct the sad and awful mistake.”

Then said I, “Well, General, I see your difficulty, and it is a very reasonable one as you see it. But I think I can show you that it has no scriptural foundation at all. First, allow me to say that I have not the least shadow of doubt as to your honesty in your statement of what Dr. Blackburn said. But yet I think it possible that you misunderstood him. But upon the ground that you are correct in your statement, I think I can so present the doctrine of the passage referred to that if you will read it over carefully you will see that Dr. Blackburn made a fearful mistake in his exegesis. He missed entirely the true teaching of the inspired apostle.”

Then I told him that I understood the apostle to administer a rebuke to the Corinthian brethren for their observance of the ordinance in that they made it a feast, and ate and drank to gratify their natural appetites, instead of remembering and discerning the Lord’s body as He had directed them to do. He reminds them also of the true nature of the Lord’s Supper, and that he had received it of the Lord Jesus just as he delivered it to them with the law governing it as a Christian ordinance and duty. But they by their perversion had so changed it that when they came together it was not to eat the Lord’s supper, and thus show forth His death as His law of the ordinance required them to do. So they violated this law, and thereby brought upon themselves the condemnation of this law governing this holy ordinance. Then I think that the question in the mind of the apostle was one of manner, as indicated by the word unworthily, which is an adverb of manner, and describes, not their faith in Christ, or relationship as Christians to Christ, but the manner in which they discharged their duty, in eating and drinking the emblems of His body.

Therefore, when the apostle says, “Let a man examine himself, and so let him eat,” I do not believe he had any reference to the question of their being Christians, or to the laws governing that matter; but reference alone to the law governing their ordinance, and the questions of right views, motives, and purposes, as set forth in that law. If this be so, then the danger against which the apostle cautioned the Corinthians was not that eating and drinking unworthily would be a violation of the law governing their Christian existence or being, but such unworthy acts would be a violation of the law of this ordinance which governs their well-being, happiness, and usefulness as Christians in a very great degree.

“Thus,” said I to the General, “you see why I said that Dr. B. made a fearful mistake, perverting entirely the true doctrine of the passage to which he referred?”

“Yes,” said the General, “I see it clearly, and now I will return home and read that chapter carefully. Your views are new to me, but they seem to be very reasonable, and I thank you for them.”

We then parted. I went on to my appointment. He returned, read the Scriptures mentioned, and joined the church.