The Book of Texas Bays

13. Mad Island

132 The Book of Texas Bays Clive Runnells sat across from meat the conference table in his Houston office as he talked about Mad Island, a tract of coastal marsh that he inherited from Shanghai Pierce and eventually conveyed to the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department and the Nature Conservancy. Runnells was not raised on the Texas coast but moved here in the early 1950s, when the Pierce Ranch was still contiguous from Highway 59 southward across Wharton County and Matagorda County to Matagorda Bay. He laughed about Mad Island, about how it got its name. There are many stories about the source of the name, but the one Clive Runnells likes best came from an event among the Indians who wintered in the Mad Island marsh. These Indians lived on a point extending into a brackish lake, collecting clams and oysters and leaving the shells piled in mounds that can still be found today. As the story goes, the Indians traveled with many dogs. One year, when they departed, several of the dogs were left behind on the point in the marsh. After a while, the dogs went mad, hence Mad Island. Runnells does not attest to the accuracy of the story—only that it was told to him. I told him that my favorite version was about mosquitoes, about how they drove the cattle mad. Again he laughed, saying that after spending time in Mad Island, he finds the mosquitoes no longer bother him. The Mad Island marsh is a magnificent part of the Texas coast, far enough north to receive abundant rainfall but far enough south for the vegetation to be 13 The Mad Island Wildlife Management Area and the Texas Nature Conservancy’s Clive Runnells Family Mad Island Marsh Preserve sit side by side on the north shore of Matagorda Bay. Along the southern edge of both preserves runs the Intracoastal Waterway. The barrier island separating Matagorda Bay and Mad Island from the Gulf of Mexico is the Matagorda Peninsula. GULF OF MEXICO MATAGORDA PALACIOS TRES PALACIOS BAY MATAGORDA BAY EAST MATAGORDA BAY CLIVE RUNNELLS FAMILY MAD ISLAND PRESERVE MAD ISLAND WMA GIWW COLORADO RIVER Mad Island Mad Island 133 transitioning into South Texas brush on the higher land. This tract was once part of the Pierce Ranch, the landholding amassed by Shanghai Pierce, one of the truly notable Texas characters. I always thought Pierce received his nickname because he shanghaied workers, but that was wrong; it came from friends in his native Rhode Island who thought he resembled a Shanghai rooster.1 Like much about cattle baron Abel Head Pierce, the stories get better with retelling. Shanghai Pierce was a big man, standing about six feet, four inches. He was larger than life, wearing a big hat and fancy clothes. He was known for his wit, for his style. He built his own town as well as his own church (which he described as belonging to him, rather than his belonging to it). He built his gravesite statue years before he died, enjoying it while he was living. There was once a cow branded “ahp is a sob,” which amused rather than angered Pierce, who let that cow range for life because it was a good advertisement.2 You can sense some of Pierce’s wit and style when speaking with Runnells. Runnells came well after the heyday of Shanghai Pierce, as did Laurence Armour, another Pierce heir, who emerged as a key player in the Columbia Bottomlands (chapter 10). When the Pierce Ranch was divided up in the late 1950s, Runnells became the owner of the Mad Island tracts, among others. As he described it, there used to be no fences for tens of miles except around rice fields; the cattle had traditionally wintered along the coast at Mad Island. After the ranch was fenced off, Runnells became a steward of the land, walking every inch of it that could be walked, knowing every aspect. But to hear him tell it, the work to maintain a ranch on the coast was exhausting . Because of the Gulf Intracoastal Waterway to the south, poachers could gain access to the south shoreline of the ranch. Being an absentee landlord was difficult. There were always fences to mend, erosion problems to stop. In the mid1980s , Runnells was approached by Texas Parks and Wildlife Commissioner George Bolin, who talked about preserving this marshland for future generations . Runnells was looking for a ranch in South Texas, and...