A typical 1840 log cabin used for a courthouse. Chinks in the walls were actually mortar between the logs. For a courthouse, there was little need for snug logs, a few chinks missing would provide breezes for court sessions in warm weather.
Remember that most early arrivals in Texas came because of one of these incentives. They were fleeing from the debt collector, running from the sheriff in their home county, or escaping a nagging wife. Once here, jobs were few and cash was scarce. One occupation lured young and old men alike. That was the practice of law. And every town had at least one habitual drunk who often livened things up.
The District Judge held court in twelve counties. On court days the little towns were packed full of litigants and lawyers, as well as the other riff-raff that habituated the towns. Sitting in the courthouse enjoying a trial was a popular early 19th century past time.
Such was the case in Clarksville, the oldest town in Northeast Texas. The District Judge and some of the lawyers made themselves comfortable at the local hotels or taverns the nights before. One particular judge in 1840 had a bountiful breakfast before the session began. Then as he walked out the tavern door he fortified himself with shot of bourbon to prepare for the practical necessities of the day.
On this particular day, one of the well-known town drunks cornered him in the tavern. But the shot of bourbon helped erase those threats and the judge proceeded once he was in the courtroom. As the judge sat on the bench listening to numerous cases, he had a habit of tilting his chair back against the wall and resting his hand on the chink in the log wall. He had done this so often, there was now room for him to put his entire hand in the hole and wiggle it outside.
The local drunk staggered around outside, avoiding horses, stray cows and hogs on the street, and managed to find himself behind the courthouse. There, he thought he saw something dangling out the wall. His inebriated state caused him to come closer and closer. It was a human hand, but whose? Slowly he realized that this human hand with a signet ring of one finger belonged to none other than the District Judge!
Instantly the man put the rough, hairy hand in his mouth and bit down as hard as he could. And then, he held on like a bulldog. The judge let out agonizing screams full of foul language and blood curdling whoops. The sheriff, once he realized the judge was not having a fit, ran outside and around the courthouse where he found the culprit with the hand still between his jaws. With some effort the sheriff managed to release the hand and tend to the judge.
Meanwhile, knowing the judge was not extremely injured; the lawyers tried and tried to find a suitable statute to charge the drunk with. With no luck, they had to charge him with simple assault. That cost him $24.80 of which he didn’t have. He ended up in the jail, as was usual. And the judge? Well, he kept his hands in his trouser pockets when in the courtroom from then on.