The Ghost of the Navidad: History, Shipwrecks, and a Texas 'Wild Man'

By Murray Montgomery  -  Staff Writer

It may not be as appealing as the Guadalupe or many rivers in the Texas Hill Country, but the old Navidad has a unique history that the others may not have. I mean, after all, how many rivers can claim that a “wild man” once roamed their banks?

According to The Handbook of Texas, the Navidad River rises at the juncture of the East and West Navidad rivers and Middle Creek, two miles east of Schulenburg in southern Fayette County. It flows south-southeast for seventy-four miles before joining the Lavaca River to form Lake Texana in southern Jackson County. 

History reveals that Spanish explorers named the river for the Nativity of Christ, which is why many locals living near the stream sometimes refer to it as the “Christmas River.” The early European contact with the region dates back to the 16th century. 

In 1528, the shipwrecked Spaniard Álvar Núñez Cabeza de Vaca traversed parts of the area. French explorer René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle, also passed through after his own shipwreck. These early, often accidental travels marked the beginning of European awareness of the fertile but flood-prone coastal prairie lands, drained by the Navidad and its parallel sister, the Lavaca River (Spanish for “cow,” referencing bison herds).

As Americans began to settle in Texas, it was only a matter of time before they would be challenged by the Mexican government. Dr. Francis F. Wells, one of Stephen F. Austin’s Old Three Hundred colonists, founded the town of Texana in 1832 near the Navidad-Lavaca junction. Originally named Santa Anna, it was renamed Texana as the settlers became disgusted with the ruler of Mexico, His Excellency, Santa Anna. 

The town thrived as a shallow-water port where steamboats docked regularly in the mid-19th century, supporting cotton shipping and commerce. In fact, beneath the waters of the Navidad River, near Lake Texana, rests the wreckage of the Confederate iron-hulled steamship Mary Summers.

According to the Texas State Historical Association (TSHA), the Navidad played a pivotal role in the Texas Revolution. On July 17, 1835, colonists gathered at William Millican’s cotton gin near the river, in what is now Jackson County, for the Lavaca-Navidad Meeting. Presided over by James Kerr, this assembly adopted resolutions protesting Mexican governmental abuses. Some historians view it as a key precursor to the Texas Declaration of Independence signed the following March.

The river is flanked generally by flat terrain with local shallow depressions, surfaced by clay and sandy loam that supports water-tolerant hardwoods, conifers, and grasses. Although it can become a raging monster after heavy rains, for the most part the Navidad just silently flows along until its journey ends at Lake Texana.

As for the “wild man,” following are excerpts from a story I wrote about him years ago: “In the early days of Texas, settlers living near the banks of the Navidad, southeast of Hallettsville, were subjected to visits by beings of unknown origin – several hairy and stealth-like individuals roamed through the brushy bottoms of the river – witnesses indicating that there was a male and female (It turned out to be only a male). The wild man would take what he needed from the farms in the area. He would slip into the fields and steal potatoes.

“Settlers put hounds on the trail and the wild being was forced to climb a tree. Looking down on his pursuers was a runaway African male – he was so frightened that he wouldn’t come down, and the men had to climb the tree and take him by force.”

The man had been shipwrecked, and because slavery was still in existence when he was found, he was sold at public auction. Before being captured, he had spent part of his youth roaming the region around the Navidad and Sandies Creek. When slavery was abolished, the wild man was set free; he was said to have remained in Texas.

While the Navidad River lacks scenic beauty, its rich past tells a compelling story.