“If, as historian Ty Cashion has observed, the Western
Cross Timbers was possibly the bloodiest of America’s
frontiers, that distinction may be explained, at least in
part, by its unique geographical position at the interface
of several cultures,” wrote Richard V. Francaviglia in his
insightful book, The Cast Iron Forest — A Natural and
Cultural History of the North American Cross Timbers.
“The Cross Timbers marked a zone of interaction
between Spanish/Mexican and Indian/French cultures
in the early nineteenth century, and between Native
American and Anglo-American cultures in the mid-nine-
teenth century… ”
But finally, in the mid- to late-1870s, the long fought-
over-area began to see exponential growth. The U.S. Army
had chased down the last of the Native American holdouts
who fought savagely to retain control of their traditional
lands. Gen. Ranald S. Mackenzie was relentless in his
50
Locomotive at Aledo
pursuit of hostiles whose intransigence kept the frontier
inflamed.
Fledgling communities began to pop up across Parker
County, some putting down roots and remaining to this
day, some shooting up and lingering but a few years in
the sun, and others … well, others just vanished. We don’t
even know where some of them were. Take Agricola.
Admittedly, I am not the most proficient of researchers,
but I could find nothing pinpointing Agricola’s location.
“Our records indicate that the town of Agricola no
longer exists,” reads the Texas Almanac. Well, yeah …
but where was it? No one seems to know. But according
to the almanac website, “The town is available for adop-
tion. ADOPT NOW!” I depressed the “Add to Cart” button
and the next screen told me that for a mere $25 per year
it could be mine. “Checkout Now” took me to a screen
where I had the option to adopt Agricola in honor or in