Beyond the railroad tracks, four blocks northeast from Calvert’s downtown Main Street, stands the Hammond House. The austere two-story structure was built in 1870 and looms large across from the First Baptist Church with its back to the Calvert Cemetery. It stands out from the rest of the neighborhood, with brick-red masonry, long vertical bay windows, and castle-like turrets that adorn the roof like a crown.
Despite rumors that the Hammond House is haunted, the real ghosts are its forgotten history. According to local lore, the Hammond House was originally the Robertson County Courthouse. But in 1879, the county seat moved to Franklin, leaving the old courthouse to sit vacant. The house swapped hands multiple times until Fannie Lee Hammond purchased it in 1909, and it remained occupied until her son passed away in 1963. His heirs sold it to the Calvert Chamber of Commerce, which in turn, deeded it to the Robertson County Historical Society (RCHS).
Its current owner, Bill Norton, came into possession of the Hammond House in August 1995. RCHS tried to turn the building into a residential museum but eventually decided to deed it back to the Hammond family. Norton was the only one interested.
Norton accepted the deed with the understanding that he put at least $100,000 into the house’s repair and restoration. Once he moved in, he began to notice that the house had peculiarities. “I would see these strange markings on the walls that I couldn’t explain, and I would see windows in places that didn’t make any sense,” he says.
The pieces fell into place once Norton visited the Franklin County Historic Jail that resembled his home: The Hammond House was never a courthouse but a local jailhouse, he surmised.
Norton attributes the spread of misinformation to his great-grandmother. “I’m sure she was writing back to her friends in Alabama, and I don’t think she liked the idea of telling her friends that she was now living in an old jail,” he says. “It sounds much more charming to say ‘I’m living in the old courthouse,’ doesn’t it?”
The Murder of J.M. Maxwell
B.F. Hammond, Norton's great-great-grandfather, was one of the wealthiest men in Texas, Norton says. Hammond came from Alabama, bringing with him 160 slaves. “In the history books, he’s presented as this elegant, Southern gentleman who donated some of his land to his former slaves after the war,” he says. “He may have been, but also, he was a thug.”
Back in 1869, B.F. Hammond and his friend, Ben Brown, believed that they were the law of the county and would administer justice however they saw fit, Norton says. Around the same time, Dr. Hammond had a serious feud with a physician named J.M. Maxwell for reasons unknown.
“[B.F. Hammond] rode into town one day — middle of the day in broad daylight — with a posse of 30 armed men with the intention of killing Maxwell,” Norton says. “Maxwell heard them coming and hopped on his horse to try and get away.”
Copyright 2009
According to the Calvert court records detailing the trial that followed, one of the witnesses on the street said they’d heard Dr. Hammond shout “That’s him! Kill him, shoot him!” followed by rounds of gunshots as the men blew Maxwell to pieces and then fled the scene, Norton says.
Aside from those court records, “that story has been completely written out of Calvert’s and Robertson County’s history,” Norton says. “You will not see it anywhere.”
Norton learned of this trial from Texas A&M University history professor Dale Baum, who was writing a book about freed slaves in the Brazos Valley. Baum was searching the Calvert court records when he stumbled on B.F. Hammond’s trial records. “The first time I heard about it, I said ‘You’ve got the wrong guy, this is not [B.F. Hamond],’” Norton says. “He has a historical plaque in the cemetery where he was buried that still portrays him as a kind and gentle man.”
A Family and History Restored
Dr. Hammond was also found to have fathered multiple children with one of his former slaves, Lucy (Batts) Hammond, leading to a large
Hammond-Batts branch that Norton had no knowledge of until he came across a genealogy forum discussing his great-great-grandfather. “That was a surprise; I thought I knew all of my Hammond kin,” Norton says. “Neither I nor anyone in my father’s generation knew about these cousins, but Lucy’s descendants knew about us.”
According to Norton, rewriting history is prevalent throughout a lot of the older towns in the Brazos Valley. “It has really made me question everything I think I know about history,” he says.
The Hammond House is now a historical Calvert landmark. Norton plans on eventually opening the house as a bed and breakfast. Much like his desire to set the records straight, he is in the process of restoring it to its true character. Some people have asked him why he doesn’t include crown moulding and such. “It was a jail,” he says, “and that just wouldn't be in keeping with its history.” IN
