When I first heard about Seminole Canyon State Park in Southwest Texas, I thought the park’s name must have been a mistake. Based on high school history, I associated the Seminoles with Florida and the Trail of Tears—not the borderlands of the Texas frontier.
It wasn’t until I made a meandering road trip to the Big Bend that I discovered how a rocky tributary of the Rio Grande came to be named for a Native American nation that once ruled the everglades of the Southeast.
The best way to get to the Big Bend from Wimberley is to follow US 90 out of San Antonio and through Del Rio to the west, skirting the Mexican border. The drive takes a little longer than Interstate 20, but the scenery, history, and culture are worth the time.
Historical sites along the route reveal a little- known chapter of Texas history—the story of the Black Seminole scouts, for whom Seminole Canyon is named. The Black Seminoles moved to Texas in the 1870s and played a key part in quieting the frontier during the turbulence of the Indian Wars.
The Black Seminoles trace their roots to 17th century Spanish Florida. Runaway slaves and freedmen intermarried with the native Seminoles and formed their own band that mixed cultural influences of the Seminoles, Africa, and Christianity.
The U.S. Indian Removal Act eventually forced the Black Seminole band to move to Indian Territory on a land grant shared with the Creeks. Finding conditions intolerable, the group migrated to Coahuila, Mexico, in 1849.
Mexico welcomed the Black Seminoles on the condition they join the Mexican army in protecting the area from raiding tribes. After the Civil War ended, the U.S. Army invited the group to move to Texas: the Black Seminoles would work as scouts, and in exchange, they’d be given their own land grants in Indian Territory.
In 1872, the scouts arrived at Fort Clark, located in Brackettville about 30 miles east of Del Rio. Under the direction of Lt. John L. Bullis, the Seminole Negro Indian Scouts patrolled the frontier to protect settlers and trade routes from hostile Comanches and Apaches.
The detachment was only about 25 troops, but the scouts proved themselves to be expert trackers and warriors. In fact, three Black Seminole scouts were awarded the Medal of Honor—the nation’s highest military award—for saving Bullis’ life in a scrape with Comanches at the Pecos River.
The scouts’ commission turned out to be short-lived. By the early 1880s, the Native American threat was neutralized, and the scouts were demoted to grunt work. In 1914, the U.S. Army disbanded the Seminole Negro Indian Scouts and evicted them and their families from Fort Clark. None were granted the land they’d been promised as part of their move to Texas.
Some of the Black Seminole families stayed in Brackettville. Last September, I visited the town for Seminole Days, an annual reunion organized by the Seminole Indian Scouts Cemetery Association, a group of about 200 descendants.
The association maintains their cemetery and works to preserve and promote their heritage, including at the local Seminole Negro Indian Scouts Museum. As part of Seminole Days, I joined the descendants on a hike at Seminole Canyon State Park.
We walked down to the dry canyon floor and made our way to the Watering Hole, a pool hidden beneath a limestone overhang. The scouts once took refuge here during their patrols across the rugged canyonlands.
It’s remarkable to think about what the Black Seminoles endured, and it’s encouraging to know their descendants are working to keep the memory of their resilient ancestors alive.
Matt Joyce is a Wimberley-based writer and editor who has worked for newspapers and magazines across Texas and the Rocky Mountain states. He currently works in Texas State University’s Division of Marketing and Communications.
