An extremely important building in downtown New Braunfels has been saved and renovated by Pat and Becky Wiggins. It is the old Post Office building on the corner of Castell and Mill. It now serves a new purpose, being McAdoo’s Restaurant. The owners are applying for a subject marker with the Texas Historical Commission. This subject marker commemorates the postal system in New Braunfels.

In his 8th report to the Adelsverein, Prince Carl said that some postal arrangements had to be made between Galveston and the new settlement of NB “since the Texas Post is dependent on the weather and more or less on the amount of whiskey the mail driver had consumed and could, therefore, be very uncertain.”

Perhaps Prince Carl’s statement had something to do with the location of the very first post office. Count Arnold-Henkel von Donnersmark came to NB with Prince Carl and built a hotel/saloon on a lot across the street from the present McAdoo’s Restaurant. Donnersmark made quite a lot of money by buying barrels of whiskey in San Antonio and selling it to emigrants. Von Donnersmark’s building served as the first post office in the new settlement with C. W. Thomae acting as the first postmaster. In 1851 Adolph Benner became the next postmaster, and when he died, his wife became the first post- mistress (There was only one other woman serving as postmistress in NB – Charlsie Witham in 1927). Mrs. Louise Benner served until after the Civil War, at which time she was replaced by Christian Holtz. During Reconstruction, all public servants that had served in the Confederacy were replaced.

After that, the post office was in various places -the bus station, the courthouse, Seele’s residence, and Pfeuffer’s store. In 1915, Pres. Woodrow Wilson signed a law appropriating $50,000 to build a post office in New Braunfels. The Secretary of Treasury at that time in charge of post offices was, surprise, William G. McAdoo, hence the later McAdoo’s Restaurant.

The lot for the new building was purchased from Adolph Henne who also owned the lot across the street where the Donnersmark building had been. The San Antonio firm of Weston & Kroeger bid of $40,949 was accepted and the work was to be completed in 15 months. Supervisor for the whole construction job was Murray M. Davis.
The post office in downtown served the community of NB from 1915 to 1985 at which time, needing more space, it moved to Seguin St. where it remains. The old building was eventually sold to Pat and Becky Wiggins who took on the gigantic task of restoration.

After months the restaurant opened for business. All furnishings inside the building had been removed. Every bit of metal, including inside doors and wood was restored, repurposed or put in storage. The long leaf pine floors were preserved as was the Marble Falls pink and grey granite. Some of the grey granite from the restrooms was used as the bar countertop. Outside the back door was the loading area which is now the porch. In one corner of this porch, you can see a hot water heater. It’s not any old hot water heater; it was used to burn trash to heat water for the showers. I know, you’re thinking they burned garbage. No, there wasn’t much of anything in the post office except paper.

To the right of the lobby on the first floor was where money was handled – savings bonds, money orders, etc. This is now the bar. Behind the lobby in the back half of the building was the workroom and also female employee restroom. To the left of the lobby was the postmaster’s office with private bathroom.

To me, the most interesting section of the post office was the basement. It was not accessible to the public when it was a post office. It was as large as the building upstairs. There was a Civil Service room where people could apply for federal jobs and take care of anything that had to do with the federal government. The basement housed a giant boiler with its coal fuel room.

There was a room that was called the swing room. Working shifts, sometimes 12 hours, with no air conditioning, the letter carriers often rested in the swing room. There was a shower for them to bathe in the men’s restroom nearby.

Now we come to a really intriguing practice in those days. The postmaster’s office on the first floor had a closet that was always locked. On the other side of this door was a ladder that led to the passageway called a lookout on the building plan, but mostly called the “catwalk” by those who knew about it. This catwalk was a passageway above the entire building, over all floors and even over the restrooms and extended into the basement. The catwalk was not lighted in order to keep a person from being seen as they looked down through louvered “peep holes”. The employees were being watched because a great deal of money was handled in the post office.

Once a month, unannounced, the postmaster, with the only key to the catwalk, was told to take the firemen and custodial staff to clean. The postmaster and his staff were also spied on by the representatives of the Federal Postal System. These men arrived during the night, entering from the basement into the catwalk and did their observing undetected, leaving again during the night. If you look up at the ceiling in the main restaurant, you can see double rails on which the catwalk hung. The Wiggins’ removed the catwalk. Thank you!

By 1984 the old post office had run out of room. The building was sold and a new post office was built on Seguin Ave. When you are at McAdoo’s, look around and you can appreciate the amount of work that went into this project. The historical marker will commemorate 100 years of this building in 2015.

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Do you know where the Klappenbach House is located? From Landa St., turn onto Fredericksburg Rd. and go straight until you get to a hill, Klappenbach Hill. The house on the left is the Klappenbach property. The story of the Klappenbach family is indeed interesting.

The story begins in Sorenbohm, Germany, where in the 1820’s, Johann Heinrich Voelcker was called to be an evangelical Lutheran preacher. He was married to Caroline Wilhelmine Wirth and they had four children, Friedrich, Julius, Franciska, and Eugen Voelcker. In1834 their oldest son, Friedrich, died and then two years later Rev. Voelcker died, possibly of smallpox from parishioners he was tending. The young mother was left alone with three children. She moved to Anklam, a seaport town in far North Germany near the Baltic Sea. Here she eventually married Georg Jochim Jacob Friedrich A. Klappenbach.

Klappenbach, born in 1810 in Lenzen, had studied “Legal Science” at the University of Griefswald. While there he joined a radical reform protest movement, was arrested and sentenced to six years in prison. A year passed and his sentence was commuted. Friends who were in this movement said that Georg was nicknamed “Rebell” and the group was a democratic reform group that met at a pub to drink beer and make speeches. This movement eventually led to the later revolution of 1848 in Germany.

After his arrest, Georg moved to Anklam. He took several municipal jobs. Apparently the political situation was in chaos because the mayor’s position was perpetually vacant. Klappenbach ran for mayor and won, but that didn’t end the discord.

Now here’s a familiar name: John O. Meusebach (as he was later called in Texas) was called on to help sort out the reforms in Anklam and a bond grew between the two men. This friendship ultimately led to Klappenbach’s coming to Texas.

In Anklam Klappenbach married the widow Voelcker, and together they produced a child, Rosa, born in 1840 who died in 1842. Another child, Bruno, was born in 1845.

The Klappenbachs were familiar with the fact that Meusebach emigrated to Texas and Julius Voelcker, Caroline’s oldest living son, emigrated first. Meanwhile the Adelsverein contacted Georg offering him free passage and land in New Braunfels if he would come as an assistant to John Meusebach. He accepted the offer in 1846 and the family pulled up stakes and moved to Texas.

Although Klappenbach received the traditional half acre lot in town (on the corner of Seguin Ave. and Garden St.) he also claimed 50 more acres. This property was bounded by Landa St., which was then called County Road, up Fredericksburg Rd., adjacent to the Balcones Escarpment, and down Parkview Blvd.

On this property in 1846 the Klappenbachs buried Caroline’s child, Franciska Voelcker, 22 years of age. Dr. Ferdinand Roemer describes the funeral in this manner: “According to a North American custom in the rural districts, all people in the funeral procession were mounted (on horses) which appeared unusual ….” The burial was on the property of the stepfather, beside the springs of the Comal, in view of the river and shaded by forest trees.

Stepson Eugen Voelcker constructed the dog-trot style homestead for the Klappenbachs near the springs. He had been trained in carpentry and home building in Anklam. Three feet thick walls of native fieldstone rubble with mortar made of caliche and straw were then covered with stucco. The roof is supported by two unjointed cypress beams the length of the house. The floors are cedar.

Klappenbach farmed and ranched on this property. He used the “GK” brand. He didn’t give up his interest in politics, being elected mayor in 1851 and then on the school board of the NB Academy. He was elected chief justice of Comal County in 1861.

Carl and Augusta Buehler bought the property from Klappenbach in 1881. It was Buehler that terraced the property next to the hill below the house. Buehler was known for his horticulture and the soil was so rich, and the area so perfect for growing fruits and vegetables, that even today many plants spring forth on their own – herbs such as horehound and mustang grapevines.

The most unusual trees are the anaqua trees. They are an old variety that grow close to water (aqua is water). There are many in Landa Park. About this time of year these trees are covered with tiny fragrant flowers that soon turn into berries. Indians concocted a dried food call pemmican. The berries of the anaqua were mixed with dried venison and made into paste for easy carriage.

Buehler’s grandson, Edward Penshorn, took ownership of the farm and then Melvin and Juanita Johnson bought it in the 1930’s. Finally the present owners, Tim and Elisabet Barker, bought the remaining 3 1/2 acres in 1984. Barker is a Master Gardener who grows magnificent flowers on the five terraces. Two small historic buildings have been moved on to the property blending in with the historic dog-trot house still in existence.

Much of the information for this article column has been collected from the Sophienburg Archives. There is a collection of about 450 family books, one of which is “Fink, Voelcker, and Klappenbach Families” by Albert Henry Fink. These family books are a real plus for researchers!

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What is under about 100 feet of water in Canyon Lake? Or better still, what would still be there if the lake had not been constructed?

I started looking and found out: ranch land, farm land, trees, cemeteries, Guadalupe River and the site of two very small communities, Hancock and Cranes Mill.

Plans for the improvement of the Guadalupe River Water Shed by building a dam go as far back as 1929. A survey was made in 1935 and was authorized 10 years later. Four sites were considered, with the one chosen 21 miles from New Braunfels. Construction began in 1960, and by 1964 when the gates were finally closed, the lake began to fill.

With a shoreline of 80 miles, reservoir storage was estimated at 740,900 acre feet. Total cost of the project was around $20.2 million, with about $3 million more than projected due to road work and north and south access roads (source: Alton Rahe’s “History of Sattler and Mountain Valley School”).

Some 500,000 cubic yards of material were hauled to the dam site out of a rock quarry owned by Roland and Gladys Erben. In a Reflections tape made for the Sophienburg, they said holes were drilled with air hammers. The holes were filled with ammonium nitrate and set off with a dynamite charge, causing 5,000 pounds of rock blasting each time.

Now under water, the small settlement of Hancock would be there. It was named after the land’s original owner, John Hancock, who in 1851 was granted the land on the north bank of the Guadalupe River.

Eventually, Frank Guenther acquired the land and established a store and opened a Post Office in 1916. This Post Office was closed in 1934 and, according to Oscar Haas, the population of Hancock in 1940 was 10.

Frank Guenther was one of the children of Christian Guenther, one of the orphans raised by the Ervendbergs at the Weisenhaus (orphanage). Christian Guenther came from Germany with his parents and his three siblings in 1845. His mother and two siblings died aboard ship and his father died in Texas in 1847, leaving 8-year-old Christian as an orphan. As an adult, Christian settled in Sattler, raised a family of six children, one of which was Frank Guenther (source: Brenda Anderson Lindeman’s “Spring Branch”).

The other community under Canyon Lake would be Cranes Mill. James Crain established a cypress shingle mill in the 1850s along the Guadalupe. Notice the spelling which changed from “Crain” to “Crane” after the Civil War.

My neighbor Olive Marcelle Hofheinz, is the g-granddaughter of a very well-known man in the Cranes Mill area, the Rev. August Engel. Engel arrived in Texas in 1846 and came to New Braunfels where he married his wife and then moved to the area known as Luckenbach.

They began that General Merchandising Store that we know. It was his home and they named Luckenbach after their son-in-law.

The Engels moved to Cranes Mill in 1870, there opening a store and establishing a Post Office he ran for 31 years. But Engel had another calling: He was a circuit-riding preacher in the river valley, Rebecca Creek, Cranes Mill, Twin Sisters and sometimes in New Braunfels. His wife was a midwife. The two of them performed many services for all the people in the area.

In 1890 August Engel’s son, August W. Engel, took over the store and the Post Office and remained there until 1935. Marcelle Hofheinz remembers Cranes Mill Post Office.

The Post Office was in the center of the store and it was enclosed in fine mesh wire, protecting cornmeal and flour from mice.

When Canyon Dam was being constructed over a six-year period, my husband Glyn drove our family of three children to the North Park overlook and took slides at least three times a month. After that, we would go to the Roland Erben ranch to look for rocks. Rock hunting became a lifelong hobby for all of us.

As for Glyn’s slides, you can view them detailing the construction of Canyon Dam by visiting http://www.co.comal.tx. us/CCHC.htm.

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By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

When I was 6 years old, I remember proudly being able to finally count to 100 without messing up. I counted 100 pennies. I counted 100 M&M’s (though I rarely made it through that without eating some). Those were tangible. It is still very hard for me to wrap my head around counting 100 of anything intangible … like 100 years. What was it even like 100 years ago in 1926?

Well, World War I ended in 1918. The U.S. economy was humming along, and automobiles became common place. Queen Elizabeth II was born, and the magician Houdini died. The famed U.S. Route 66 was established, connecting Chicago, Illinois to Santa Monica, California. Closer to home, the towering Comal Power Plant (LCRA, now The Landmark Apartments) was built, and, believe it or not, the Women’s Civic Improvement Club funded the installation of a women’s restroom under the bandstand on Main Plaza.

As New Braunfels grew, the number of churches grew to serve the needs of people moving into the community. In August of 1925, an announcement appeared in the New Braunfels Herald touting Rev. H. Schliesser, a field missionary of the Lutheran Texas Synod, was in New Braunfels to organize a Lutheran congregation. The first services, conducted in German, were upstairs at Mergele Hall.

The Mergeles of Harry Mergele’s Hall are founding families from France. They were merchants. Their home is the little green building that sits behind the store at 166 Comal Avenue (now the chiropractor office). Mergele Hall may not ring a bell with you because the building has had so many other occupants. The two-story building, now the home of Water 2 Wine at 185 S. Seguin, has housed many entities over the years, including a place for the militia to drill, a dance studio, piano studio, and an assembly hall, part of Denson-Dedeke Gifts (downstairs) in the ‘80s and the original retail space for Celebrations Bridal (upstairs). St. Paul Lutheran was one of many churches that got their start upstairs at Mergele Hall.

The new Evangelical Lutheran St. Paul Congregation was established and officially recognized March 21, 1926. The church continued to grow under the guidance of the Rev. H Schliesser. The services were conducted in German in the morning and English in the afternoon with Sunday School in between.

By October 1926, the Lutheran Mission Board of the Iowa Synod voted to contribute to the St. Paul congregation, helping them purchase a house and lot on San Antonio Street for a parsonage, along with two adjacent lots to build a church on Santa Clara. They operated out of those few buildings for a while as they continued to grow their services.

Within a year, they added a St Paul Lutheran Ladies Aid and St. Paul Luther League (for teens), and the St. Paul Lutheran Brotherhood. 1928 saw more opportunities to participate in worship with the creation of the sanctuary and junior choirs. Then, the Great Depression hit.

In 1939, Rev. H.A. Heineke formed a building committee to begin planning a new church building. The church, designed by noted architect, Jeremiah Schmidt, and built by C. R. Roessler, was built of native fieldstone with beautiful dark wood interior beams/trim and stained-glass windows. The $6,000 ($110,000 today) note covered the building and furniture. The church, now known as the Chapel, was dedicated on April 14, 1940. The Chapel is one of the only Jeremiah Schmidt buildings in New Braunfels without a Texas State Historical marker.

St. Paul’s congregation continued to grow, much like churches across the U.S. in the 1960s. This growth prompted the congregation to expand their footprint. In 1962, a new, larger sanctuary was built. The new church building wrapped around the original Jeremiah Schmidt chapel, with its modern design incorporating similar stone, wood beams and colorful stained-glass windows.

With New Braunfels being 180 years old, you might wonder why it took 80 years for a Lutheran church congregation to be established. Well, there is a whole backstory to that. The Lutheran denominations began in Europe and arrived in Texas with German, Swedish, Czech immigrants. In 1850, Pastor Kleiss of Baden, Germany, arrived in Texas to check out the possibilities for new Lutheran congregations. He established himself in the Hortontown and Neighborsville communities across the river from New Braunfels.

In 1851, the German-speaking congregation erected St. Martin Church, the oldest Lutheran church in Texas. A school building was built in 1870 (still standing across from New Braunfels Conservation Society gate). The congregation grew until the turn of the century. St. Martin’s was part of the Evangelical Lutheran Synod of Texas. It became difficult to supply churches with German-speaking pastors who were of Evangelical or Reformed faith. When services were discontinued, the congregants attended nearby German-speaking churches, First Protestant Church in New Braunfels or Friedens Church in Geronimo.

St. Martin’s Church was taken over and restored by the St. Paul Lutheran Congregation in 1963. St. Martin’s Church was moved to its present place in the Hortontown Cemetery when Loop 337 was built and is marked by a Texas Historical Marker. St. Paul Lutheran Church still holds special services in St. Martins.

One hundred years ago, St. Paul Lutheran began a journey in Christ and extended itself to not only take care of future congregants, but to honor the history of Lutheranism in Texas. Here’s to counting 100 more years!

Sources: Sophienburg Museum and Archives

“Around the Sophienburg” is published every other weekend in the New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung.

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

It’s a crumbling brown leather belt with an insert of linked silver-plated rectangular batteries. It might not look like much, but this curious artifact, an electric belt, represents a weird and wonderful era in the history of electricity.

Electrotherapy — using electricity to stimulate nerves and muscles — goes way back to Egyptian times. Patients were treated for pain, gout and baldness with the shocks from electric fish. Scientists, physicians and inventors began experimenting with electricity in the 18th century. The first battery was developed in 1800. The mid-19th century led to technological advances such as the steam engine, the telegraph and the electric light bulb. Electricity was fueling radical changes in the world.

At the 1851 London World’s Fair, the “Hydro-electric Belt” was exhibited. The batteries and electrodes sent an electric current through the belt’s wearer. It was billed as a “miracle cure” for just about everything: arthritis, rheumatism, sciatica, gout, glaucoma, migraines, depression/anxiety, weakness, poor memory, liver disease, hernias, nervous disorders, indigestion and even impotency.

Uh huh. Too good to be true? People didn’t think so. Queen Victoria’s personal doctors bought into it as did Charles Dickens. Based on what we know about electrotherapy today, it might have helped with nerve and muscle pain and regeneration. But no matter, because the lovely vision painted by the inventors was more than enough to sell to a public enamored with the magic and power of electricity.

Companies were soon manufacturing batteries and designing their own electric belts for what became an insatiable market. Slick advertisements, with colorful images of lightning bolts and strong healthy people using the electric belt and other devices, made up 25 percent of all advertising in 1880. You see the miraculous electric belt in newspapers, medical journals and mail-order magazines like Sears & Roebuck.

Still, many in the medical profession preached caution and spoke out against the “quakery and suspicious backgrounds” of the inventors and companies selling electric health wares. They agreed that there were valid uses for electricity in cauterization, resuscitation and treatment of pain, paralysis and neurological disorders. But the public wanted it all to be true. Tens of thousands of electric belts were sold in the US alone between 1890 and 1920.

The Sophienburg Museum was gifted the pictured electric belt in 1979. There is the leather belt, the chain battery pack, several wool-covered circular zinc electrodes with wires, a current regulator and a “suspensory” accessory. It came with a booklet printed in German in 1900 containing instructions for use. This is important; to achieve optimal results, you had to place the electrodes in the proper place in the proper way. The belt is charged by dipping the battery in a solution of ¼ clear vinegar to ¾ water. (in some cases, the person’s sweat would work) and repeated use was suggested. The “suspensory” accessory in the museum’s belt is for male patients (read special pouch for electrode to use on the family jewels) and could be attached to the belt and used for … ahem … well, to stimulate blood flow. To quote the maker, the belt “has sufficient volume to saturate every nerve and vital organ of the body with electrical force; it pours this life into the body for hours at a time in a slow, continuous stream.” The regulator allowed the wearer to change the power of the current flowing through the belt. “One Belt is enough for a family for six or eight, as it is worn only from three to six hours a day.”

Notice the belt’s condition. The leather is not so much crumbling from age as it is burned. Burned! This was not a comfortable experience despite the happy faces of the men and women in the booklet. The addition of the “regulator” on the Museum’s belt and wool covers on the circular zinc electrodes were to “alleviate burning and blistering of the skin”. One article said that you were to “read a lovely story book” while taking the treatment, as if that would take your mind off things. Of course, for some people this just might have been a pleasant experience.

I like lots of things about this artifact, but one of the striking things about it is its decorative nature. Back in Victorian times, utilitarian things were also made to look beautiful. They were all about form and function; currently, we are all about function. The battery chain pack has silver-plated cases (better for conducting an electrical current) with a pierced decoration filled with ruby red enameling or glass and nice pretty clasps on the ends. On its own, it would make a lovely belt. The leather belt fastens with plated buckles embellished with a coin-like medallion featuring a Roman soldier. At the very least, one would feel stylish while doing the electric belt thing.

Our electric belt was manufactured by Dr. M.A. McLaughlin, who seems to have had offices in Australia, the US, Cuba, China, India, Canada and Europe. McLaughlin’s advertised it had patents in both the US and the UK. There was supposed to have been an office in Dallas, Texas.

We have the electric belt on display in the pharmacy exhibit. There are other unusual items in the exhibit: wire thumb cages to prevent thumb-sucking, cod liver oil, patent medicines, an assortment of mortar and pestles and huge prescription ledgers used by the pharmacist.

Sources: “Dr. McLaughlin’s Electrical Belt”, Sophienburg Museum; “When Self Electrocution Was Used to Cure What Ails You”, Krissy Howard; “Good Vibrations: The History of Electrotherapy”; “It’s Electric! Electrotherapy and Bioelectricity on Display the NMHM”, Emily Morris; “Electric Health”, Steve Fowler; “History of Electrostimulation”, Bluetens; “Memories and Miscellany”, June 5, 2021; https://atlasobscura.com/articles/the-victorian-tool-for-everything.

“Around the Sophienburg” is published every other weekend in the New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung.

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

I wake up in the morning and the first thing I do is pull up the weather app on my phone. I want to know temperature and precipitation possibilities in order to get dressed appropriately.

Humans have always watched the weather. Where to settle, when to plant and harvest, what to accomplish during the day and yes, how to dress are all dictated by weather. Weather encompassed the seasons of the year which could be wet or dry, hot or cold. Weather was either your friend or your worst enemy. It has always been watched, but it has not always been recorded on a daily basis and used to predict weather patterns, droughts and storms.

The science of meteorology, the tracking and understanding of weather patterns is really a relatively recent thing. Ancient Babylonians tried to predict major weather change based on the shape and look of the clouds. Egyptian astronomers were fairly adept at predicting the arrival of the Nile’s seasonal floods. Aristotle wrote Meteorologica as a compilation of all known knowledge about atmospheric phenomena, theories and guidelines for predictions. But it was the invention of data recording devices — barometers, dew point calculators, anemometers, hygrometers — that helped insure accuracy. Ordinary people, interested in the nature of weather, began keeping records. Well, not all were ordinary; Leonardo da Vinci, Galileo and Benjamin Franklin are on that list.

In the early 1800s, volunteer recorders and observers of weather in the United States started seeing patterns emerge in the data. The telegraph, invented in 1837, aided in weather information collection and sharing. In 1849, the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, DC, began collecting data from across the United States, Canada, and the Caribbean by giving out weather instruments. Weather watchers transmitted their observations to the Smithsonian at least three times a day. Weather maps were drawn, sent to press and posted in public places within about three hours. A six-word message relayed the city, barometric pressure, dew point, temperature, cloud cover, wind velocity and direction. As people daily transmitted weather information, scientists correlated and analyzed it to find the patterns and make predictions — modern meteorology was born.

One hundred fifty volunteer observers across the nation reported regularly to the Smithsonian. By 1860, that number had risen to 500. Texas had at least 42 men and women who were Smithsonian meteorological observers between 1854 and 1873. Several of these were well-known individuals in New Braunfels; two of them lived and worked here.

Louis Cachand Ervendberg, born around 1809 in Germany, emigrated to Illinois in the 1830s. He came to Texas in 1839, and after meeting up with Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels in Industry, Texas, he was given the job of pastor of the German Protestant immigrants. He and Ferdinand Lindheimer met the immigrants at Indianola and came inland with them. Ervendberg first lived in a house on Church (now Coll) Street, behind the log German Protestant Church. The cholera outbreak of 1846 was the cause of at least 60 orphaned children. The Ervendbergs opened their home and set up a tent to house and care for them. In 1848, Ervendberg set up the first state-sanctioned orphanage (Waissenhaus) out near Gruene.

Along with their own five children, the Ervendbergstaught roughly 20 orphans farming and housekeeping, as well as reading, writing and arithmetic. Ervendberg left the pastorship in 1851 and concentrated on finding out what crops could be grown in Texas. He experimented with different wheats, tobacco, medicinal plants, sheep and silkworms. Ervendberg corresponded with many men, including Asa Grey at Harvard. He was also one of the early Smithsonian meteorological observersof the 1850s. The rest of the Ervendberg’s story has been covered by Myra Lee Adams Goff in “Around the Sophienburg” articles (search on Sophienburg web site).

Jacob Ludwig Forke was born in 1817 in Hanover, Germany. After arriving in New Braunfels, he took over the position of Smithsonian meteorological observer reporting from 1855 to 1857, after Ervendberg left New Braunfels for Mexico. Family lore says Jacob made daily trips out to the Waissenhaus to record his observations. He married Karoline Langkammer, one of the orphans, in 1856. Talk about your “meet cute”!

Jacob Forke first farmed land on the Waissenfarm for at least a year, making 32 bushels of corn which was ground into meal. Eventually, wife Karoline bought the store and home of Victor Bracht (author of Texas in 1848) in 1865. The 1852 Bracht home and store stood at 593 S. Seguin Street, the present-day corner carpark of Bluebonnet Motors. Karoline deeded the property to her husband in 1866. No reason for this rather interesting chain of ownership can be found. However, a story has been told that Karoline would often leave her home and go next door to the Forke store to fuss at her husband and the men gathered inside playing skat or dominoes instead of working. She was obviously one of those strong, independent, no-nonsense German women. The property was sold by the Forke descendants in 1970, and eventually the store became a part of the New Braunfels Conservation Society’s Historic Old Town New Braunfels.

The telegraph had given meteorologists the ability to observe and display almost simultaneously all the observed weather data. This led to actual forecasting of weather. Because of the complexity of capturing and understanding the weather information, the system became part of a governmental agency. President Ulysses S. Grant signed a law in 1870 which birthed the first national weather service as a part of the US Army Signal Corps. In 1890, President Benjamin Harrison moved the meteorological responsibilities to the newly-created US Weather Bureau, an agency of the Department of Agriculture. The Bureau eventually became the National Weather Service, an agency of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) in 1970.

Whether or not you are interested in weather, are you not continually amazed at how our little Hill Country town finds it way into the history of our world?

Sources: Sophienburg Museum: Oscar Haas Collection, Newspaper Collection, Forke and Ervendberg genealogies; PBS: The American Experience: A Brief History of the National Weather Service; National Weather Service: History of the National Weather Service; OpenMind BBVA: Meteorological Records: This Is How We Started to Record the Climate.

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By Myra Lee Adams Goff —

A young German count, Arnold-Henkel von Donnersmark, came to the New Braunfels settlement in 1845 with Prince Carl. He built a large frame building where he lived and conducted his hotel and saloon business. In less than a year he had accumulated several thousand dollars.

This is how he did it: he bought a barrel of whiskey in San Antonio, set up a tent in New Braunfels, and sold it to emigrants that had money. These early emigrants, having just arrived and not yet established homes, stayed in Donnersmark’s hotel, for it provided a comfortable place to stay. Besides, they liked the idea of being served by a member of the aristocracy. This would never have happened in Germany. (Source: Roemer’s “Texas”)

Donnersmark’s house, hotel, saloon, was located on the corner of Castell and Mill Sts. which is now a parking lot across the street from McAdoo’s Restaurant. Donnersmark’s house itself served a very important role in early New Braunfels because it was designated as the first post office. It was dismantled in 1904 by Louis Henne who then used the lot for a customer camp yard for his lumber, hardware, and tinning business.

C.W. Thomae was the first postmaster in 1846 and then Donnersmark took over in 1847.

In 1851 the post offices moved to the Adolphus Benner store. Benner was the postmaster and when he died, Mrs. Benner took her husband’s place, thereby having the distinction of being the first woman postmaster. She served until after the Civil War, when she was replaced due to the fact that she served under the Confederacy. (All of those positions were replaced if they had served during the Confederacy).

Next, post offices were in the bus station, Courthouse, Hermann Seele residence, and Pfeuffer store. Then in 1915 President Woodrow Wilson signed a law appropriating $50,000 to build a post office building in New Braunfels. This is the building that now houses McAdoo’s Restaurant. Guess who the U.S. Secretary of Treasury was at that time? William G. McAdoo! The present post office on Seguin Ave. was built in 1984.

In addition to the post offices in New Braunfels, there were about 20 rural post offices, two of which are at the bottom of Canyon Lake (Cranes Mill and Hancock). Each of these post offices had an individual postmark signifying that the letter had been mailed from there. Eventually all small sites were closed except New Braunfels, Spring Branch, Fischer, and Canyon Lake.

Originally stamps on letters were postmarked by the postmaster writing the cancellation date and place. Then cancellation progressed to hand stamping. Can you imagine the post office doing either one of those methods now? Cancellation then moved to digital postmarks.

These postmarked letters have become collector’s items, as everything does when it becomes obsolete. One can learn a lot about history by collecting these cancelled letters. Collectors look for old hand-cancelled letters and specific postmarks. I have seen a 28th Wurstfest postmark dated Nov 4, 1988, and a New Braunfels Sesquicentennial postmark of April 14, 1995, with the Sesquicentennial seal. A most interesting one to me is a New Braunfels Centennial celebration envelope which says “mailed from Landa Park.” It has a picture of the old Sophienburg, Las Fontanas, with the message “Because of these, the now famous Comal Springs, the German emigrants chose the site of New Braunfels.” The official postmark is New Braunfels.

Permission for special postmarks have been granted, like the commerative Pony Express rider in 2006. I have seen two stop stations, one in Gruene and one at the Schmidt Hotel.

Growing up in New Braunfels, I remember the socializing that took place on the post office steps on Castell St., especially on Saturday. Maybe this form of socializing had its roots in Arnold-Henkel von Donnersmark’s hotel and saloon across the street.

Excerpt from Around The Sophienburg by Myra Lee Adams Goff, Sophienburg Museum & Archives.

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The Sophienburg Memorial Association is proud to bestow the Sophienburg History Award, established in 2013, honoring Myra Lee Adams Goff for her dedication to the community and her steadfast love of history. The award recognizes a student who demonstrates a love and passion for New Braunfels history. The 2022 recipient chosen by the Sophienburg Memorial Association to receive the award is Joshua Wesloh. He is a senior at Smithson Valley High School and will be attending the University of Texas in the fall. The following is the essay about a historically significant event or person in Comal County submitted as a requirement of the scholarship application.

John O. Meusebach

By Joshua Wesloh

This is one of my favorite historical figures that I have learned about in my life, and he lived just a few miles away from me. Versatility, resolute and multifaceted are not fabricated adjectives or false praise; this man was truly all of those things. It is a shame that I only have a thousand words to talk about who I believe should be called the “Father of New Braunfels”. That person is John O. Meusebach, also known by his shorter name, Otfried Hans Freiherr von Meusebach. Friends of the Brothers Grimm, polyglot, lawyer, Bürgermeister, Commissioner-General, delegate for Native American treaties, founder of Texas settlements, this list of Meusebach’s achievements is getting too long. I need another sentence. Meusebach was a state senator, special state commissioner, botanist, mercantile business owner, justice of the peace, winemaker, postmaster, and outspoken opponent of slavery all in his lifetime.

Meusebach was born on May 26, 1814, in Dillenburg, Duchy of Nassau, a long way from the change he was to cause in Texas. Meusebach was born to scholar, Karl Hartwig Gregor von Meusebach and pianist Ernestine von Meusebach née von Witzleben. Karl, his father, was great friends with the notable folk storytellers the Brothers Grimm, who “sent compilations of their immortal fairy tales to the Meusebachs when the children were young”(King 12). When it came time for Meusebach to begin his perpetually long list of jobs, he enrolled in the University of Bonn in 1832 where he studied law. While at University, John became a polyglot, as he learned to read in five languages and speak English fluently. During this time, Meusbach noted the hypocrisy that America was founded on the ideas of liberty while continuing to allow slavery to exist. Meusebach continued working for cities in Germany, eventually becoming the Bürgermeister, or chief executive, of the city of Anklam in 1841.

I know, that got very repetitive, but it is now 1845 and Meusebach is finally in Texas. He signed his contract with the Adelsverien on February 24, 1845. Meusebach paid his $2,000 membership fee, which, calculated for inflation, is about the cost of a single piece of wood nowadays. Technically, it is still The Republic of Texas for a few more months. What matters, however, is that Meusebach is there, and from the looks of it, he is there to fix some problems. I do not mean problems like low Wi-Fi signal or low battery like we must deal with today, but problems of the 1840s. Just to name a few: “Lack of cash, the arrival of too many immigrants in too short a time, the shortage of the necessary vehicles for transporting them to the interior of Texas, the outbreak of war with Mexico, an unexpectedly severe winter, and disease” (Smith and Tetzlaff). However, as they say, “when the going gets tough, the tough get going.” Even though I am sure that saying did not exist in 1845, Meusebach was definitely tough. He solved the financial problems of New Braunfels that Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels caused and provided food, shelter, and protection for the incoming colonists. Also founding the settlements of Fredericksburg, Castell and Leiningen during this time, he really was the Tom Hanks of 1840s Texas. In 1847, Meusebach signed the Meusebach-Comanche Treaty, a treaty in which Meusebach met with, you guessed it, the Comanche tribe. This treaty, apart from being that type of treaty that really makes it easier to learn history (looking at you, 67 Treaties of Paris), was one of the most important works of the Germans in Texas. After signing the treaty, Meusebach, whose name I really should have mastered the spelling of by now, resigned from being Commissioner-General. In 1851, he was elected to be a Texas State senator, where he represented Comal County and fought for a public school system. Meusebach eventually became a special state commissioner because, apparently, this guy did not know how to say “no.” He learned five languages and not one of them taught him the word “retirement.” After settling land disputes for a few years, Meusebach moved to Fredericksburg. He then moved back to New Braunfels, before settling in Loyal Valley, north of Fredericksburg. When he moved to Fredericksburg, Meusebach finally settled down and retired. No, I am just joking, of course, Meusebach kept working. He ran a stage stop where, in 1875, he was shot in the leg by vigilantes during the Mason County Hoo Doo War over cattle rustlers. That roller coaster of a sentence might just be the most Texas Wild West sentence ever written. Meusebach obviously survived the gunshot wound and became a justice of the peace in Loyal Valley as a result. This is where the life of John O. Muesebach finally slows down. In his last years, he tended to his vineyard and rose garden before dying in Loyal Valley on May 27, 1897.

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This is the story of a boy born in Erbach, Hessen, Germany. It is about a boy who was fascinated with antlers. It is about that boy growing up and emigrating to Texas and creating his own future.

Ernst Dosch was born in 1822. He grew up hunting in the forests of Odenwald, the property of the Count of Erbach. The Count’s father had spent a lifetime collecting antiquities and antlers; the palace has one of the largest and oldest deer and roebuck antler collections in Europe. Young Ernst often walked through the Hirschgalerie at the palace, drawn to the variety and strangeness of the many abnormal antlers — antlers that displayed unusual arrangements and number of prongs.

Dosch graduated from the University of Giesen in Forestry and in 1848, he followed other students to the fabled land of “Texas”. He met young men on board the vessel “Louis” who became lifelong friends and business partners: Julius Dressel, Ludwig von Lichtenberg, G. Theissen, the Dittmar brothers and Ulrich Rische.

Ernst’s Texas story began when he settled with his new friends and some of the Vierziger at the Darmstaedter Farm (present day Danville area in Comal County). The Vierziger or “The Forty” or the Darmstaedters, were a group of about 40 young men from the Darmstadt area who were recruited by Prince Carl and the Adelsverein to set up a utopian socialistic colony in Texas (see https://sophienburg.wpenginepowered.com/?s=Darmstadt for more information). Almost immediately, the marvelous hunting possibilities in Texas took hold of him and he began to collect his own antler specimens.

Socialism was not for Ernst, and he joined up with the local Texas Rangers for a brief stint. He is later often referred to as Capt. Dosch because of this. In 1851, Dosch and his shipmate von Lichtenberg bought Lot #55 (202 S. Seguin) in New Braunfels. After Dosch constructed a building on it, he, with partner Rudolph Nauendorf, opened a store/saloon. This little building became the Star Exchange Saloon and now sits at Old Town at Conservation Plaza.

The newspaper says that times were tough and Dosch moved his business to San Antonio. His friend Ulrich Rische took over the saloon. Buying a lot on Commerce Street, Dosch and a Mr. Wiener opened a saloon and soon built up a nice clientele. In 1861, the outbreak of the Civil War sent Dosch off to Mexico where he lived in Piedras Negras and Monterrey where it seems he made a great deal of money. Dosch then travelled back to Germany in 1863.

On his return to San Antonio in 1866, Dosch got Ulrich Rische to sell the New Braunfels saloon and join him on Commerce Street. Their saloon was advertised as Dosch and Rische in the newspapers, but was commonly known as “The Deer Horn Bar”. Décor of the bar was an eclectic mix of German gingerbread woodwork and the ever-increasing collection of Dosch’s abnormal antlers. Folks visiting the city made a point of stopping to gawk at the more than 600 antler specimens on view. They had to pay attention to the unusual closing times though: 8 pm on weekdays and closed all day Sunday.

Dosch was respected by both the Anglo and German communities in San Antonio. He worked on the elections of friends, petitioned the city council for changes in statutes and advocated for new state laws to change deer season to August thru December (for some reason, the law said you could shoot deer from January to July!). Dosch was a charter member of the San Antonio Texanische Schuetzenverein and its president in 1857. He was a frequent prize winner at shooting meets and festivals across the Texas Hill Country. He presented an old rifle to the New Braunfels Schuetzenverein that he had used in the very first German-Texan Shooting festival on July 4, 1849, in New Braunfels.

Ernst was 81 years old when the Deer Horn Bar closed its doors in 1905. The saloon had had a good run, 36 years, and was known as the oldest, continuously owned and open bar in San Antonio at that time. His fantastic antler collection was moved to storage.

Ernst Dosch died in 1906, but his legacy does not end then. In a wonderful quirk of history, Albert and Emile Friederich open a bar in 1896. They, too, love antlers; Emile even makes furniture out of the horns. Their “Buckhorn Saloon” acquired the Dosch antler collection prior to 1920 and added it to its own. The Buckhorn Saloon (and I hope some of Ernst Dosch’s abnormal antlers) lives on and amazes and entertains San Antonio visitors today.

There is one more memorial to Ernst Dosch. When Carl J. Iwonski drew his view of New Braunfels in 1856, he included the figures of Dosch, Dr. Wilhelm Remer and Viktor Bracht. Ernst Dosch is on horseback, looking over the new town of New Braunfels, with his trusty rifle casually laying across his right shoulder. Don’t you just know he is thinking of his next set of antlers?

By the way, you can purchase a great reproduction of Iwonski’s 1856 view of New Braunfels at Sophie’s Shop in the Sophienburg Museum & Archives.

Sources: Neu-Braunfelser Zeitung Collection; Freie Presse für Texas, San Antonio 1880-1906; Galveston Daily News, 1870-1890; “German Businesses of San Antonio”, Dana Pomykal; Indian Wars and Pioneers of Texas, p495; Archives collections: 0009 Haas and 1020 Dressel; Old Town at Conservation Plaza; https://www.americanrifleman.org/content/archives-1892-shooting-fishing-abnormalantlers/; https://www.tshaonline.org/handbook.

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

The forty-eighters were refugees of the failed German Revolution of 1848. They were idealists. They fought to establish a liberal and unified Germany using liberty, democracy and unity as their main tenets. The designation “forty-eighter” excludes the hundreds of thousands who emigrated from 1848-1852 for mostly economic reasons. It also does not include political refugees from previous periods of political unrest.

There were as many as 4,000 forty-eighters who came to America. Many of the Forty-eighters were young men in their twenties and thirties willing to risk their future. Many of them came from the southwestern Germanic states, from towns like Baden, Hesse, Wurtemburg, the Palatinate, and the Rhineland. Many were highly educated professionals: journalists, soldiers, physicians, pastors, bankers, engineers, lawyers, innkeepers and merchants. And many were “free-thinkers” or even atheistic in their views.

In the book, The Forty-eighters, edited by A.E. Zucker (1950), eleven professors put together a list of several hundred of these men who fled to America. The list includes six who emigrated to Texas — and interestingly enough, five of them have ties to New Braunfels. Let’s take a look at these guys.

Eduard Degener (1809-1890) was the son of a wealthy banker in Braunschweig. He was privately tutored and studied in England. He ran in aristocratic circles even though he favored liberal, democratic ideals. In his elected government positions, he voted for proposals pushing a German republic. He was a member of the first German National Assembly at Frankfurt in 1848. When the revolution failed, Degener emigrated to Maine and in 1850 he made it to Texas. He lived near New Braunfels, and then in Sisterdale, as a gentleman farmer. Degener was a German Unionist and vocal abolitionist. Two of his sons were in the group of young men who tried to get to the North via ship from Mexico in 1862. Overtaken at the Nueces River by a force of Confederate soldiers, many of the men, including the Degeners, were killed. Eduard was put in prison in San Antonio for several months. After the war, he was a wholesale grocer in San Antonio, elected to two constitutional assemblies in Texas and also served in the Forty-first Congress for two terms. In 1865, Degener, with William Steves and William Heuermann, bought land in Comfort. There, they buried the remains of those massacred at the Nueces and put up the “Treue der Union Monument” in their honor.

Carl Daniel Adolf Douai (1819-1888) was born in Altenburg. He studied at the University of Leipzig, got his doctorate and then travelled to Russia where he became a private tutor. He also married a baroness. From 1846 to 1850, Douai was in and out of prison five times! His revolutionary writings and his experimental school made him a target. Leaving Germany in 1852, he settled in New Braunfels and founded his own school. By 1853, he had become editor of the San Antonio Zeitung in which he advocated the gradual abolishment of slavery. Public outcry against his editorials necessitated the help of the Sam Antonio Turnverein (Athletic Club) to protect his offices. He moved to Boston in 1856. He founded a kindergarten and school but after several years this closed due to his atheistic articles. Moving to New York in 1866, he opened another school and edited a socialist newspaper. Through it he became one of the first to popularize Marxist philosophy in the US. Douai wrote articles on philosophy, German grammar, world history and education, as well as short stories and a novel. He was “a brilliant and courageous writer, unafraid of offending his readers’ opinion.” He was also a musician who composed over 60 songs.

Julius Dressel (1816-1891), born in Geisenheim, Rhineland, was the son of a prosperous wine merchant. He studied history, literature and law in Heidelberg. Julius joined his father’s wine business and promoted Rhenish wines around Europe. The Dresel home welcomed guests with radical political ideologies; Julius soon joined the ranks of these revolutionaries and was present at their major meetings. At the failure of the 1848 Revolution, Julius was exiled and he emigrated to Texas where his brother Gustav was employed by the Adelsverein (The Society for the Protection of German Immigrants) as general agent. He was good friends with Lindheimer and many of the early New Braunfelsers. He bought land in Sisterdale but he first worked the New Braunfels farm of John O. Meusebach. Several years later, he moved out to the Sisterdale property. During the Civil War, his abolitionist leanings caused the Confederates to place him in prison in San Antonio. After release, Julius did business in the city until his brother Emil died in California. He became heir to the estate and moved his family to the Sonoma Valley where he took over his brother’s vineyard until his own death. Dressel wrote and published essays and poems in various journals and newspapers, many dealing with the subject of homesickness for his Vaterland.

Gustav Wilhelm Eisenlohr (1811-1881) was born in Loerrach, Baden. He studied theology in Karlsruhe, Halle and Heidelberg. He became the vicar in Emmendingen. Eisenlohr was very outspoken in his support of the 1848 Revolution. Accused of high treason and imprisoned, Gustav was given the choice of being sentenced or to leave Germany. Fleeing to Switzerland, he then emigrated to America in 1850 with his young son. He first took a pastorate in Richmond, Ohio. Eisenlohr then answered an advertisement for the pastorate of the German Protestant Church in New Braunfels. He was installed by Hermann Seele in 1851. After six years, he accepted a pastorate in Cincinnati. He edited and wrote many poems for the Protestantische Zeitlaetter (newsletter) for 20 years. It was “for the instruction and edification of thinking Christians.” Educated in Greek and Latin, this liberal theologian also translated the poems of Petrarch! Pastor Eisenlohr and his second wife returned to New Braunfels 22 years later to retire. Both he and his wife are buried in Comal Cemetery.

Oskar von Roggenbucke (1811-1883), born in Suhl, Thuringia, was a career soldier who attained the rank of major in the Prussian army. Like many other soldiers, he resigned his commission and joined the forty-eighters. A political refugee, he emigrated and came to Texas in 1854. He and his family stayed six months in New Braunfels before settling on a farm in Comfort. He was also an abolitionist. His two sons refused to become soldiers for the Confederacy. They joined the group of Germans headed for Mexico and were among those slaughtered on the Nueces River. Von Roggenbucke lived in Comfort until his death.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives: Oscar Haas Collection; Dresel Family History; The First Protestant Church Its History and Its People, O. Haas; The Forty-Eighters, A.E. Zucker; A Hundred Years of Comfort in Texas, G. E. Ransleben.

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