By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

New Braunfels citizens have never been shy in expressing their opinions in print or in demonstration. No other subject was more hotly contested than the issue of prohibition.

In December 1917, the 18th Amendment – the Prohibition Amendment – was passed. It banned the manufacture, sale, or transportation of intoxicating liquor. However, the political, moral and constitutional fight over prohibition in Texas began when The Republic of Texas passed the first local-option law in 1843. This allowed towns and counties, not the Republic, to decide the issue for themselves. The ensuing years saw the slow swing from anti-prohibition to prohibition.

In 1887, prior to a statewide prohibition referendum, the local newspaper ran many articles and editorials against prohibition. The referendum failed spectacularly across the state: 220,627 votes against, 129,270 in favor. After the referendum’s defeat, Bulverde made it known that there was not one vote cast in favor of the referendum in their precinct. Clear Springs held a huge victory dance. One local establishment even refused to sell a beer to a local prohibitionist telling him to “go drink water”. In the following month, the “Victory Banner of 1858” was delivered to New Braunfels from the States Executive Committee of the Anti-prohibitionists. The banner, featuring Sam Houston and his motto “Texas and Freedom”, was given as an award for the staunch anti-prohibition feelings displayed at the polls. The banner also commended Comal for being the leading democratic county of the State.

Prohibition gained ground after the turn of the century. Texas “drys” tried to pass prohibition legislation again in 1908 and 1911.

The most colorful and “heartfelt” demonstrations Comal Countians have ever undertaken were anti-prohibition events. In October 1908, several rallies were held in the county with the largest taking place on Main Plaza. Symbolically empty beer kegs and planks performed the job of bench seating. Participants needed to be comfortable while listening to the several important and influential men speaking in German about the loss of personal liberties from prohibition laws. German speaking events were very popular and drew people from all the neighboring counties.

Then in 1909, New Braunfels made headlines across the state. Prohibitionist Texas Governor Thomas Mitchell Campbell declared war on the counties not enforcing the 1907 Baskin-McGregor Act. The act mandated that saloons in Texas be closed on Sundays and prohibited women (waitresses, bartenders or prostitutes), musical entertainment and gambling from barrooms. “Sunday closing” or “Blue laws” meant that establishments in urban areas selling alcohol had to close at midnight on Saturday and stay closed until Monday morning. For New Braunfels, the part of Baskin-McGregor that applied was the enforcement of the Sunday closing law. It was a true infringement and violation of their personal liberty; never in 63 years had local businesses been forced to “put the lid on” Sundays.

The governor issued ultimatums to towns with large German populations like Galveston, San Antonio and New Braunfels. These were followed by threats to enforce the Baskin-McGregor Act by sending in the Texas Rangers. Governor Campbell put on more pressure and considered holding back money from the County Commissioners until they agreed to comply and enforce the law. Men from Austin came to talk to the locals and local leaders went to Austin to talk. December 29th was set as the day of reckoning. With Rangers enroute, New Braunfelsers locked the doors of their drinking places at noon and participated in a very formal, very somber “Funeral for Lady Liberty and Lady Freedom”.

Hundreds of local men, donned in their best black suits and top hats, met on West San Antonio Street. Following the famed “Victory Banner of 1858”and the “Banner of 1887” carried by Ferdinand Paulus and Julius Wills (both famed for their acting abilities), the men walked slowly and purposefully in mourning behind a decorated caisson carrying life-size coffins fashioned from heavy paper. Inside were paper “corpses” of Liberty and Freedom. Local leaders were pallbearers. On either side of the funeral wagon were large signs flaunting the words, “We close of our own accord and not by force” and “Farewell to our local self-government”.

A 25-piece brass band followed the hearse playing a specially composed, “Baskin-McGregor Waltz”. The waltz was “pronounced by music critics to be a gem in its own way.” Straight rows of male mourners walked in stately manner behind the band. Black draped bicycles, wagons and carriages of more mourners made up the rest of the parade. Another draped wagon filled with an orchestra brought up the rear.

The funeral march made its dignified way three quarters around the Plaza. The male mourners then joined women and children already gathered around the Bandstand. The newspapers estimated that a crowd of more than a thousand attended the demonstration.

Incredible photos of the event show that a long paper banner was unrolled which was covered with a tongue-in-cheek German poem and illustrations. After the obligatory speeches and obituary, the townspeople cremated the effigies of Lady Liberty and Lady Freedom. Yes, they were burned right there on the Plaza.

You have to wonder if the Texas Rangers were standing there watching this truly remarkable example of First Amendment freedoms along with the reporters. I am certain many out-of-towners agreed with the New Braunfels citizens.

You will be able to learn more about this event in a special exhibit at the Sophienburg Museum & Archives opening this summer.

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

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

Last week I took on the challenge of finding out about City Lot 89. It is located on the corner of South Seguin Avenue and Coll Street, across from the First Protestant Church. We know it today as the location of Johnson Furniture Co and their lovely, landscaped corner.

This prime real estate was first drawn by lot from the Adelsverein’s land grant by Aloys Rosser in 1848. Rosser sold it to Jacob Winkler in 1850, who quickly flipped it to H. Bevenroth. By 1854, Bevenroth’s estate had sold Lot 89 to Charles Rossy and his wife, and they sold it to Carl Floege. Six owners in six years — I’m guessing that maybe they wanted farmland not city property or perhaps saw a quick way to make some cash.

Carl Floege, a cabinetmaker by trade, immigrated to Texas in 1849. After obtaining Lot 89 in 1854, he built a home and his first general store on the property. He built a much larger, two-story business on Main Plaza (location of Utilities building) and a larger home off Market Plaza. Impressive! More impressive, he used his carpentry skills and know-how to build the first low-water bridge over the Comal at West San Antonio Street (1856), the Torrey Mill bridge on the Comal at Bridge Street (1867) and a new high-water bridge over the Comal (1873) at the location of his former low-water bridge after it had washed away.

Mr. Floege also used his trade to work on the first Comal County Courthouse (1856), a new 66-foot river ferryboat (1859), add rooms to the New Braunfels Academy (1867), deal with city streets and drainage issues (1873-1874), and build numerous stores and homes. Carl could truthfully say he built a lot of old New Braunfels with his two hands.

Carl Floege sold Lot 89 to Rudolph DuMenil in 1858, after the completion of his larger store and home. DuMenil had emigrated from Germany in 1850, and first lived in Hortontown where he ran a meat market for about eight years. In 1858, he moved into the old Floege home and set up his own general merchandising business in the old Floege Store. DuMenil literally sold everything but the kitchen sink — Hungarian grass, bois d’arc saplings for living fence lines, whiskey and brandy, clothing, dry goods, lead and percussion caps, hardware, tobacco products, paint, stoves and kitchenware. Maybe he did sell the sink! Rudolph also sold an ambulance, pianos and did freighting as well as being involved in local education as a trustee at the New Braunfels Academy.

In 1875, DuMenil auctioned off his store inventory and rented the store building to Carl Floege’s son Herman to use as a wagon business. When Herman Floege moved his business elsewhere in 1881, the store was rented to Homans Saddlery/Leather shop.

Lot 89, with the old Floege home and store, was sold by the DuMenils to Cuno “C.J.” Ludewig in 1902. Mr. Ludewig and his brothers had started a furniture business in 1887 at the location of the old Krueger Chevrolet building (across from Granzin Bar-B-Q). C. J. Ludewig took over the business from his brothers and moved it to the Seguin Street property in 1905. The family lived in the old home and ran the furniture company out of the DuMenil store. In 1929, a new “modern” brick building was built next to the old DuMenil store. It had the first elevator in any building in New Braunfels. Almost 3,500 townspeople attended the new store opening event where souvenir ashtrays featuring Charles Lindbergh’s face were distributed. The building was just one of several “modern” buildings built just prior to the market crash of 1929: Travelers Hotel (Faust) 1927, Comal Power Plant (Landmark) 1926, Greyhound Bus Station (Celebrations) 1929, Booker T. Washington School 1929, and the old City Hall 1929, to name a few.

All three of Ludewig’s sons helped in the store. Local competitors included Jahn Furniture Co., Lack’s Furniture & Automotive, and Starke’s Furniture in Seguin. Ludewig’s sold all kinds of high-quality manufactured furniture that included kitchen, living and bedroom pieces. To promote their company, C.J.’s son, Monroe F. “Fatty” Ludewig, began giving out “little Lane cedar chests” to graduating senior girls in New Braunfels. I still have mine!

When the Ludewig fam­ily de­cided to get out of the busi­ness, they leased the 1929 fur­ni­ture build­ing and the old Du­Me­nil store to Wal­lace and Dorothy John­son in 1966, who con­tin­ued to run the busi­ness un­der the name John­son Fur­ni­ture Co. In 1972, the John­sons bought the prop­erty out­right. In 1984, the old Du­Me­nil Store was sold and moved to Gruene (Hunter Junc­tion) where it sur­vives.

Wal­lace and Dorothy’s daugh­ter Carol pur­chased the prop­erty from her par­ents in 1989 and runs the John­son Fur­ni­ture store to­day. She con­tin­ues the legacy of pro­vid­ing qual­ity fur­ni­ture and decor to New Braun­fels cit­i­zens that be­gan on Lot 89 over 120 years ago.

If you have never been in­side this his­toric fam­ily busi­ness, you have a chance to prac­tice yoga in it on Thurs­day, Oc­to­ber 10, 2024, from 5:30–7 p.m. The $15 fee ben­e­fits the So­phien­burg Mu­seum & Archives. Fol­low­ing prac­tice, a bev­er­age and his­tory talk will let you ex­plore the build­ing.

If you are not into yoga, drop by the store, say hello and check out all the good stuff. Carol’s got a chair, bed or table that is bound to have your name on it.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives: Ludewig, Floege and DuMenil family histories; Reflections program #918-Monroe C. Ludewig; New Braunfels Herald and Neu Braunfelser Herald newspaper collections.

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

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By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

The world is full of magnificent works of art and sculpture, some of which are centuries old. New Braunfels is even home to one, featuring a female figure and gargoyles. Now somewhat obscured by trees and traffic, the 19th-century Victorian fountain was actually the beginning of our Main Plaza.

In 1845, surveyor Nicholaus Zink was contracted to lay out the town of New Braunfels. He allowed for the Plaza at the junction of San Antonio and Seguin Streets. It has always been oval-shaped. The Plaza was known for many years by New Braunfels citizens as “our park” because no other was available. It was simply a large, flat, clean space in the crossroad where the townspeople gathered for concerts, parades and community events.

The only mode of transportation at that time involved horses or oxen, which both required water. The idea for a central watering hole/fountain on Main Plaza initially came about in 1887. The idea was quashed after complaints by local merchants.

New Braunfels celebrated their 50th anniversary in 1895. In September of that year, Hermann Seele, president of the anniversary celebration committee, approached the city council for permission to erect a water fountain to beautify the Plaza, utilizing surplus funds from the celebration.

The committee chose the fountain design from the J.L. Mott catalog. The cast iron structure, said to be 19 feet tall, features a female figure in Greek-style robes atop two lower pans and a basin. The figure is holding a vase above her head with water that sprays from the top of the vase into the pans below. She is listed as “The Vase Bearer” in the catalog. There are two types of gargoyles (carved faces with spouts that drain water). The top pan is round, decorated with leaves and flourishes, supported by a center column. Water flows into the lower pan from the mouths of stylized sea horses (or maybe griffons) that adorn the center column. The lower pan is octagonal, adorned with eight sheep’s heads spouting water into the octagonal basin made of concrete and metal.

The natural-colored cast iron fountain was purchased from J.L. Mott Company of New York for $3,000 with anniversary funds and donations. After all was said and done, there was a remaining balance of $58.05, which the city paid. It was installed on the Plaza in 1896.

By 1897, there were problems with people watering their stock at the water fountain. To discourage the practice, the city spent $342 to have the fountain area high curbed. Later in 1897, the city began planting shrubs and trees to beautify the Plaza. The Band Stand came along in 1905.

The beautiful work of art took center stage on Main Plaza for years without issue. In 1963, the New Braunfels Lions Club took on the project of refurbishing the fountain and landscape improvement. The fountain was sandblasted and received new lighting, additional sprays and a new off-white paint job. A new rock wall enclosing a planted area was also added. It was indeed a beautiful sight at night.

For many more years, the fountain survived freezing temperatures and drought. It also survived pranksters that found “soaping of the fountain” a novel idea. Soap seriously damages the workings of fountains and is no laughing matter.

1976 brought about a flurry of improvements to go along with the nation’s Bicentennial Celebration. The complete renovation of Main Plaza was the project of the Rotary Club. Eighteen months of planning and $100,000 of work later, Main Plaza was completely redone. The fountain received a new watering system sending the water up instead of down with indirect lighting installed around it. At 80 years old, the Main Plaza fountain was also designated a historic landmark by the New Braunfels Landmark Commission.

The grand fountain’s age began to show. In 1985, the fountain was turned off. The mechanics of the fountain were in good shape, but the cast iron structure was succumbing to sheet rust on all of the interior surfaces. She was slowly rusting to death.

In 1992, Mayor Clinton Brandt formed the Plaza Fountain Restoration Committee. They were in for a shock when they sought restoration quotes. Yikes! That little $3,000 fountain needed $50,000 of work!

The two-year fundraising campaign raised $54,000. The Mott fountain was fully restored to her original cast iron color by Robinson Iron of Alexander City, Alabama. It took approximately four months. Robinson Iron had restored at least sixteen other Mott fountains previously. At the time, there were known to be about 35-40 Mott Company fountains left in the United States, with ours being one of the finest.

The fountain once again took her place on her pedestal in December of 1993, a full year before the slated Sesquicentennial Celebration in 1995, and all was right in the universe. Except — a drunk driver plowed through Main Plaza in November 1994, shattering the fountain and causing $50,000 in damages. The driver was not insured, nor was the car he was driving. Robinson Iron repaired the 100-year-old fountain and returned it to its rightful place by the end of January 1995 in time for the Sesquicentennial events.

Fast forward to today — our precious fountain is 128 years old. Sadly, due to water restrictions, the fountain is turned off. She looks a little rough but is still a treasure. Come see her up close and personal. No ticket required.

She will be waiting for you to join her on Main Plaza for the Ol’ Fashion Fourth of July Parade and Patriotic Program which has been presented by the Sophienburg Museum and Archives in collaboration with the City of New Braunfels since 1978. Wear your Star-Spangled-Banner best and be there!

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives; Smithsonian American Art Museum’s Inventories of American Painting and Sculpture database.

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

We are here because of the Comal and the Guadalupe rivers. We have drunk it, powered mills and made electricity with it, and played in the beautiful water since 1845.

Farmers and ranchers in Comal County also used the waters of the Guadalupe and the many little spring-fed creeks that flow into it. But when that wasn’t convenient, they utilized natural ponds and watering holes. There were many: the Crawford Tank, Branch’s Waterhole, Altgelt’s Pond, Stein’s Waterhole, Waterhole Creek, Kopplin’s Waterhole, Weltner’s Pond, Bluff Waterhole, Alligator Hole and the “Goenze Weier” (Goose Pond) in Gesche’s Pasture to name a few.

The largest waterhole from way-back-when was the “Post Ock See” or Post Oak Sea, located about 6 miles out of NB on Hwy 46W. It was said that during long droughts, thousands of head of cattle and livestock were driven by cowboys from all over the area to water at the “Sea”. Local rancher Bill Adams remembered that “when every waterhole in the county was dry and when the Guadalupe was down to a trickle, the “Sea” had water.”

Post Oak Sea, or the “Sea”, covered many acres. By the early 1870s, several ranches surrounded it, but the “Sea” was used by all. When ranchers from other areas as far as Mason were in drought they brought their livestock to Post Oak Sea. In like fashion, ranchers from Comal County who’d lost pasture land to drought were invited to move their cattle to neighboring grasslands. It was a kinder and gentler time. In 1886, Comal County purchased acreage on the “Sea” to use as a public watering and camping place on the way to Fredericksburg. Watering holes were the gas stations and rest stops of the horse-and-buggy days.

Rancher Rochette Coreth shared memories of Post Oak Sea in the local newspaper. “Large numbers of livestock would water there in the days of the open range. Their hooves packed the soil and thereby kept the lake watertight.” Rochette also told a story of his father, Franz Coreth, and the Post Oak Sea. Franz had shot a steer that was watering at the “Sea” to take home to butcher. The steer wandered into deep water before it fell and Franz got soaking wet dragging it to shore with a rope tied to his horse’s saddle horn. His brother and nephew met him on the bank with an ox-drawn wagon. The steer had to be hauled 12 miles to the Coreth Ranch. A cold norther suddenly blew in and, to keep from freezing, the wet Franz crawled into the still warm, field-dressed carcass as they slowly made the three-hour trip home. One of the young men handed him the steer’s liver saying “Here is also a pillow.”

In History of Mission Valley Community, Alton Rahe recorded stories of rancher Bill Adams which included tales about Post Oak Sea. “This was a really unusually large body of water, never known to be dry until 1887, and since then held water for only a short time following heavy rains. We had a big time around this lake fishing … and swimming … On many a moon-lit night we young fellows … would get together at this “sea”, all on horseback, and with several trained dogs, we waited for hogs to come to water … We would hold our dogs and kept quiet until the hogs had filled up on water, and had a good time wallowing in it, then we turned the dogs loose and jumped on our horses surrounding them, the dogs baying and holding them in the water. Some of the best rodeos one ever saw would take place right then.”

What happened to the legendary “Post Oak Sea”?

Why it suddenly went dry in 1887 is still a mystery, but there were several old-timers who came up with guesses. Bill Adams said that he wondered if an earthquake or geological disturbance had caused it to drain. He remembered strange weather. In January and February of 1886, it had been extremely cold and the “Sea” had frozen over except for a patch in the middle. Then, that summer had been terribly dry followed by a massive storm with hurricane-like winds in August. By the summer of 1887, a large crack had opened up in the ground near his home which formed a long horseshoe-shaped line across the area for at least a mile. It was in places 5-6 inches wide and it was established, by throwing rocks down it, to be at least 100 feet deep in some places. Had the basin of the “Sea” also cracked?

Another story postulated that the “Sea” went dry because a group of local lads threw dynamite into the water to stun and harvest fish from deep in the lake. The group later feared that their laziness had destroyed the rock foundation of the “Sea”. Yet another tale blames the building of a fence through the middle of the “Sea”; the placing of fence poles might have pierced the basin and caused the water to leak down.

Post Oak Sea does occasionally return. The newspaper published a photo of it full of water after heavy rains in March of 1957. Rahe’s book has another photo of a very full “Sea” after the 1972 rains that caused a major flood in New Braunfels.

I took my Mom and we drove up Hwy 46 to locate the site of the famous historical watering hole following Mr. Rahe’s directions. “Travel west on Hwy 46, pass the intersection of FM 2722. Before you get to the Comal County Road Dept/County Engineers office on the left, you can still see the basin of the Post oak Sea on your right. A small amount of water is usually visible. The stock tank closer to the highway with big rocks was constructed recently and has nothing to do with the original Post Oak Sea.”

Take the short drive out 46 or at least google map it and look at the satellite image of the area. You can indeed still see the footprint of Post Oak Sea on the landscape. If you go after a good rain, you will even see a little water in what was once the largest watering hole in the county.

Sources: History of Mission Valley Community by Alton Rahe; Sophienburg Museum: NB Herald, NB Herald-Zeitung and Neu Braunfelser Zeitung collections; Oscar Haas collection; “Reflections” recordings #936 and #403.

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By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

When I was in junior high school, I sometimes would tag along with my dad when he drove my Oma to Comal Cemetery. She tended my Opa’s grave twice a month. While they were scraping the dirt and replacing the flowers, I would wander through the gravestones. It may sound goofy, but I loved the way that they were perfectly aligned, each with their own color and design according to the personality of the person laid beneath them. I rarely made it down to the “really old” part of the cemetery before we had to go, but I loved seeing the “cemetery trees” (Italian cypress and cedar bushes) that had long ago outgrown their originally intended landscape purpose. It was not until much later that I came to love Comal Cemetery for the history that it holds.

The arrival of German immigrants on Texas shores in 1845 opened the doors to a new life, adventure and unfortunately, untimely death. Some immigrants died on the way to their new town and impromptu burials were performed along the road. By July 31, 1845, 505 people had arrived in New Braunfels. When surveyor Nicolaus Zink laid out the town, he reserved a little over 4 acres of land on the southwest side of town for the New Braunfels Cemetery. Settlers kept coming to New Braunfels and sadly, 293 burials took place in the New Braunfels Cemetery between 1845-1846.

New Braunfels continued to grow, prompting the later settlers to seek land/housing across the Comal River. The new developments of Braunfels and Comal Town eventually became known as Comaltown (although still part of New Braunfels). A new cemetery, Comal Cemetery, was established in Comaltown in March 1868. It was perched on the bluff above the Guadalupe River where Common Street came to a dead end.

New Braunfels businessman John F. Torrey issued a promissory note, donating 8 acres of land plus $500 to three trustees for use only as a public graveyard, with the exception of a small plot of land for his family. There were additional stipulations that it be fenced and have a proper hearse to transport bodies for burial. The first known interment in the cemetery was Fredrick (Fritz) Hartwig on August 12, 1873. The City of New Braunfels took over administration of the cemetery from the Comal Cemetery Association in January 1887 (at John Torrey’s request) in exchange for $1.00.

The Comal Cemetery acreage has increased over the years. The original cemetery of 8 acres gained 6.93 acres in 1913 when Henry Kellermann sold his land adjoining the Torrey acreage. A small amount was gained when heirs of John Torrey, signed a quit claim deed to the original Torrey family plot, as their father had died and been buried elsewhere. Then in 1927, it gained another 10 acres with the purchase of land formerly belonging to E.A. and Ella M. Eiband. Today, the cemetery covers almost twenty-five acres and is the final resting place of over 12,550 souls.

The earliest graves are laid out in an east-west orientation, with feet to the east. I was always told that with feet to the east, your face will see the rising sun forever. It must have been an inefficient use of the land because in the later sections, graves are slightly akilter, with feet facing more northeast and mostly parallel to Common Street. I get it, perfectly square plots. The square plots hold 4 graves and most likely were sold as a “family plot”.

My Opa’s was an 8-grave plot, curbed and covered in sandy dirt and a caleche rock mix, much like the rest of the cemetery. Everything was dirt, including the spaces between the graves and the roads. A good family tended their loved one’s gravesites to keep the weeds off. Grass growing on a grave was said to be disrespectful. The wealthier families, like in the old part, had fancy Victorian wrought-iron or pipe fences around their plots (in very rural areas, it was to keep animals from grazing). Some families completely covered the family plot over with concrete to permanently prevent weeds. Others marked their plots by planting evergreen bushes at the corners, which then grew into huge “cemetery trees” that can be seen from a distance. Comal Cemetery was a “scraped earth” type cemetery until at least the late 1970s before allowing grass to grow between the grave plots.

One of the most unique features of Comal Cemetery is that unlike some cities, Anglo Americans, African Americans and Hispanic peoples are buried in the same cemetery. It was Mr. Torrey’s wish to establish a Freedman’s section. Sexton’s records prior to 1917 were lost, but between 1917 and 1957, over 200 burials took place in the Freedman’s section. Citizens petitioned City Council and were granted the addition of more burial spaces in the Freedman’s section. One of those citizens was Amos Ball Jr., who was the city’s Animal Warden for 26 years and is buried there. Another notable burial in this section is Ruth D. Harper, who was born in New Braunfels and taught and served as principal at Booker T. Washington. Notable Hispanic persons resting in Comal Cemetery include Thomas Sias Villanueva, Sr, a distinguished Army veteran, who worked for the City of New Braunfels as the cemetery sexton for 20 years; and the Rev. Daniel Campos, a Pentecostal minister, who began the Iglesia Santa Pentecostes Jerusalem church, in 1958, serving the Hispanic community in New Braunfels for 35 years.

Remains of some of the earliest New Braunfels settlers can be found in the oldest part of the cemetery including those from Germany, France and other parts of the United States. The more notable persons found in Comal Cemetery are Ferdinand Lindheimer; Hermann Seele; Ernst Gruene; and H. D. Gruene, (son of Ernst), who built the now famous gin, saloon, store, and dance hall in Gruene, TX. One important, but lesser-known person buried there is Daniel Murchison. He was born in North Carolina and moved to Texas when he was 23. He was hired by Prince Carl as a guard for the early colonists. He went on to help with the Veramendi’s Braunfels and Comal Town developments; served in the 11th Texas Legislature, representing Comal County; and helped revise the state constitution.

The headstones marking a life gone in Comal Cemetery are truly like stepping-stones through New Braunfels history. Comal Cemetery received a Historic Texas Cemetery designation in 2000. It will soon receive a Texas Historical Marker from the Texas Historical Commission. Please watch for the marker dedication ceremony announcement.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives; Comal County Historical Commission

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By Keva Hoffman Boardman —

The Six Shooter Ranch. The name evokes something rather wonderful in an old-Western-movie kind of way. However, dear reader, the history around the Six Shooter Ranch is anything but romantic. There are tales from different time periods which give us clues to its story and with some sniffing around, I think I have got the gist.

I first found a paragraph in the Marjorie Cook files. She was a feature writer/editor for the NB Herald.

Six Shooter Ranch was owned by Coreths and got its name from a man named John Sippel (who married a daughter of Ernst Gruene, Sr. Sippel lived in the house there and used to get drunk, lie on his bed and shoot flies with his six-shooter. The ceiling was full of holes as a result. The house stood on top of the hill adjoining the Eden Home. This was levelled for crushed rock by Landa on a lease from Coreth. Just before the house was torn down, it served as a bordello.

Is your interest peaked? Are there facts to back up any of this tale?

A transcript of an interview with Coreth Family descendants fills in some details of the location.

At one time they [Coreths] owned property from Mission Hill all the way over to the Eden Home. My uncle Rochette Coreth referred to it as the Six Shooter Ranch. There was a quarry there on the edge. That was in 1913, when Landa wanted to establish a rock quarry on the Coreth property and [paperwork] refers to it as the Six Shooter Ranch.

I looked into the land area a little closer and it seems that it was first owned by Ernst Gruene. His daughter Johanna and husband John Sippel lived on the property when they got married in 1873. In 1887, Sippel opened a rock quarry on the hill to get rock and gravel for the construction of the Guadalupe River Bridge (Faust St. Bridge). Sippel later recovered an 8-pound mammoth tooth at the site. The Coreth’s then acquired the land and they leased it to Landa to quarry gravel.

Olinska Sippel Posey, one of the daughters of John and Johanna Sippel, shared a very personal insight on her family. John built a home on the corner of Academy and Coll in 1881, and that’s where she lived so she didn’t live on the Six Shooter Ranch. She did remember that her father was a little bit crazy and dangerous. Olinska remembered that father John took her to visit her Gruene grandparents who lived on Rock Street one day. They crossed the San Antonio Street bridge, went through Comaltown and at the railroad tracks there on Rock Street, John told her to get out and walk the rest of the way. As she walked, he shot his gun several times over her head to hurry her along.

Olinska’s mother Johanna had a mental breakdown in 1893. Olinska said her mother felt she had to file for divorce in 1894. After her husband shot himself in the head on the second floor of his Phoenix saloon in 1900, Johanna Gruene Sippel lived until 1942.

Doesn’t this recollection just break your heart? Here is a bit more of the Sippels’ story.

John was the son of Valentin Sippel, one of NB’s first founders. John was quite the entrepreneur. He and father Valentin built the first Phoenix Saloon — same location, different building — in 1873. Off and on he lived on the 2nd floor of “Sippel Hall” and rented out the first-floor saloon. He also added an alligator pond and a bowling alley. In 1885 he became the local distributor for Anheuser-Busch. John set up a soda and mineral water bottling works, St. John’s Bottling, in 1886. In 1887, he opened the quarry at the Six Shooter Ranch. He added an ice factory to his line of businesses and became the distributor for Lone Star Beer in 1890.

I think his world started falling apart in 1892. His 18-year-old, first-born son Henry was shot and died while at business college in Dallas. The Sippels’ had already lost a two-year-old daughter in 1883. Henry’s death caused Johanna to have a mental breakdown and require several months of hospitalization. John was having a hard time financially as well. The bottling works went bankrupt after a bad freeze and it and the ice factory were put up for sale. Johanna filed for divorce and six years later, most likely depressed and drinking, John shot himself.

Perhaps this is the origen of the “drunk and shooting the flies on the ceiling” story; so much trauma and heartache for this man and his family to handle.

My last reference to Six-Shooter Ranch is later in time. Hanno Welsch Sr. recorded an oral history at the Sophienburg and told an interesting story. His family lived on a farm out on River Road and Rock Street. Remember that the ranch house of the Six Shooter Ranch was located about where the Eden Home and Dean Word’s pit is now.

There was a fella by the name of Clapp, of Clapp Shoe Company. He was living up there. He was a playboy. I imagine they gave him lots of money to get him away from their business. He hooped it up! He had some nice black horses and a buggy; well-groomed. He’d go to town and meet these girls. He’d get a pretty girl from off the train and have big parties there. And he liked six shooters, pistols and stuff like that. He was shooting at the fella that was working in the field on Rock Street, and, of course, once in awhile this fella would shoot back too you know. I don’t know but I think they were both drunk. They couldn’t hit a target.

Finally. I think I understand the bordello reference in Marjorie Cook’s notes. Mr. Welsch also talks about the “pretty ladies” which came in on the train. Behind the depot was a one-story house about 30 feet long with a porch along the sidewalk of Mill Street. The mostly dark and shuttered house was “verboten to us youngsters” but Welsch and his friends would slip over to the windows and listen to the “sweet talk”. Hanno describes how the ladies would come in by train, pulling up their skirts above the ankle as they stepped down onto the ground. There were always a lot of cowboys ready to help and then escort the ladies to the “entertainment house”. I think the Clapp gentleman at the Six Shooter Ranch would bring “these girls” to the ranch house to party.

So it looks like I’ve figured out quite a bit of the story. But Mr. Welsch gave me one more tantalizing tidbit connected to Six Shooter Ranch. One day Hanno’s father was plowing in the field down on the corner of Rock Street and he plowed up an old pistol.

It was a very peculiar pistol. It was originally a rim fire and it had been converted into a center pin fire pistol. It had beautiful engraving on it and a nice wooden handle. It must have come from the Six Shooter Ranch somehow.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum: Neu Braunfelser Zeitung; New Braunfels Herald; Marjorie Cook Collection; Myra Lea Adams Goff Collection; Hanno Welsch Sr. “Reflections” oral history.

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By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

Who would believe that a Union soldier residing in New Braunfels for a mere three months could leave a lasting mark on our city? Nicolaus Dittlinger did just that.

In December of 1865, Nicolaus Dittlinger arrived in New Braunfels with his wife and youngest child, taking a room at the Schmitz Hotel. Dittlinger, originally from Germany, made his home in Cape Giradeau, Missouri, where he and his brother built and operated their business before the Civil War. It was at the end of the war that he contracted tuberculosis and headed south to warmer weather in hopes of regaining his health. That never happened. Nicolaus Dittlinger died in March 1866 at the age of 38. Before she departed for Germany, his wife had a limestone marker cut and inscribed with his name. An iron enclosure was placed around the grave, and she planted a wild rose in the enclosure. The rose bloomed faithfully each April. Mrs. Dittlinger died a short six years later.

Wait … what kind of legacy is that? Dead in three months? Family in Germany?

Fast forward a few years. After graduating from school, the orphaned Dittlinger son, Hippolyt, borrowed money in 1876 to travel from Germany to the United States to check on his father’s holdings. After learning that everything was decimated by the war, he traveled to New Braunfels to pay respects to his deceased father. The April Texas weather was beautiful and very inviting. Hippolyt decided to stay. Mr. Schmitz, the owner of the hotel where his father had died, offered him a place to stay until he could find work.

Hippolyt found employment in Scherff’s Store on the Plaza doing a little of everything. He slept in the store as a night watchman, then in the morning, groomed and fed the horses. He loaded beer barrels, swept the store, helped customers and after closing, kept the books. He then moved to Tips, Clemens and Faust Mercantile where he became a partner. The twenty-year partnership was very successful. What began as a general merchandise store, grew to include a grist mill and cotton gin. In 1887, H. Dittlinger, Peter Faust, and John Faust petitioned the city council to run a cable from Clemens Dam on the Comal River to power the mill. The grist mill grew into a real flour mill. The cotton gin, run by the same power, prospered and grew into an export business based in New York.

Dittlinger Mills (now ADM) was established in 1886 by Hippolyt Dittlinger and Peter Faust. Dittlinger bought Faust out in 1901. The mill was originally water powered, obtaining its power from Clemens Dam across the Comal River. Take-off from the water turbine was by a metal rope drive, one of the longest known in the United States, comprising a loop about 1500 feet long, extending from the north end of the dam across the river to the mill on the south side. The mill was changed to diesel power in 1914 and eventually completely changed to electric power.

By 1930, Dittlinger Mills bought the retired Landa Flour and Feed Mill (now part of Wurstfest grounds). Dittlinger re-tooled the Landa Mill entirely to process poultry and stock feed, greatly increasing the feed production capacity.

In 1904, Hippolyt took his wife and children to meet his remaining sister and aunts in Germany. He was taken with the 2000-year-old buildings erected by the Romans that were still standing strong. He recognized lime mortar as a very important building material. Once back in New Braunfels, he and his engineer studied how to develop a lime plant, just like the one his father Nicolaus had built in Missouri.

The lime plant opened in 1907. Dittlinger hired migrant laborers from Mexico to work the plant, providing them with year-round work. The company built small houses to replace their tents and shacks. The Lime Company also built a combination church/school, two stores and a dance hall. The community was known as Dittlinger Village or La Calera. He was also instrumental in organizing Holy Family Church.

In 1925, the Dittlingers travelled to Rome for the Holy Year or Jubilee as declared by Pope Pius XI. While in Europe, they visited Schloss Braunfels, the castle of Prince Carl’s family, where they received a print of Prince Carl to “hang in our museum.” Hmmm. New Braunfels didn’t have a museum. The Dittlingers graciously kept it until a museum could be built just across the street from their very grand home in 1933. The generosity of the Dittlingers toward the Sophienburg Memorial Association over the years has been incredible. Hippolyt, known as the “father of industry in New Braunfels” died in 1946 at the age of 87.

The Dittlinger Family’s love of New Braunfels was visible again in 1967 when Mr. & Mrs. Alfred Liebscher and Bruno Dittlinger gave $80,000 in memory of their parents, Mr. & Mrs. Hippolyt Dittlinger, for the construction of the new modern library on a lot adjacent to the museum and Emmie Seele Faust Library. The Dittlinger Memorial Library served the city of New Braunfels for thirty years before becoming the home of the Sophienburg Museum & Archives.

Oh, yes, remember that wild rose? In 1985, while conducting a survey/inventory of all cemetery headstones to be published in a book, there was a rose bush growing on the grave of Nicolaus Dittlinger. Turns out, it was a very rare antique rose. Cuttings were taken and propagated, with the first Dittlinger Rose bushes planted around the library in 1993 and again when the new library was built. I thought it sad that none of those existed anymore. Then, I drove to the cemetery. There is an old, old wild rose growing on that grave — 156 years? That’s some legacy.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives

Caption: Special guests at the Dittlinger Rose Dedication at the Dittlinger Memorial Library, April 1993. L-R: Bill Schumann, County Agent; Hippolyt Mengden, a Dittlinger grandson; Maria Liebscher, Dittlinger granddaughter; Christine Brown, who donated the roses; Ethel Canion; and Sue Ragusa.

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By Tara V. Kohlenberg —

I always looked forward to our weekly trip to the grocery store. Although it was only a short twelve or so blocks from our house (and about the same from the Plaza), it felt like we were traveling to an exotic place with odd sights, sounds and smells. It was both scary and exciting to ride in the car as my mother drove over the bridge high above the Guadalupe. The grocery store was Pittman’s Red & White Store.

To me, the store was small and safe with only three aisles and a meat market in the back. If I behaved, I would get to select a treat from the cooler case at the end of the trip. But there was so much more to Pittman’s story than those three aisles of groceries.

The Comal and Guadalupe Rivers marked the boundaries of the land purchased by Prince Carl. The rivers defined the edge of New Braunfels for a long time. The Faust Street Bridge, one of New Braunfels’ most recognizable landmarks, was completed in 1887. The bridge was part of Highway 2, and served as a major crossing for all traffic between Austin to San Antonio until 1934, long before US 81 and Interstate 35 were built.

Highway 2, the Guadalupe River and the railroad brought industry. In 1921, Planters and Merchants Textiles began planning and building their modern water-powered textile mill. It began full production in July 1923. In 1922, just across the road on the edge of the highway in rural Comal County, Litt Atkin (L.A.) Pittman and his wife Eula set up a hamburger stand. According to family history, L.A. and Eula came to the New Braunfels area in 1919. When they wanted to build a business, it was said that the only properties available to them were outside of New Braunfels city limits. They purchased property from Louis Meyer on Highway 2 (now Porter Street).

What started out as a hamburger stand evolved into a grocery store. L.A. worked as a fireman in a factory job while Eula ran the store. They served not only the mill workers, but the families that built homes in the new Meyer Addition. The store was a little of everything to the community. Because it was on the highway, it served as a Greyhound bus station. It also served as a post office and polling place for Comal County. The community was dubbed Milltown by the people of New Braunfels. It was a derogatory name, but the people of Milltown embraced it. The funny thing was, the mill was the largest employer in the county, with a good number of the workers crossing that bridge from town every day to work there.

As the mill prospered, so did Pittman’s. By the late ’20s, the store became Pittman’s Red & White Store. L.A. and his wife built a large home behind the store and raised their children, who also worked in the store. About 1940, the Pittmans built a new modern Red & White Store next door to the first wood frame store. L.A.’s son, Walter, raised his family in the remodeled old store building while working long hours in the new store. The new store had the traditional red and black tile front and plate glass windows. This is the store I remember from the ’50s and ’60s. It was a nice place to be. The air conditioner was cool in the summertime. There was a square table with chairs near the front doors. Hot coffee was available all day along with cold sodas in the cooler. They made sandwiches and burgers to go. They also had a butcher in the back of the store that custom cut and wrapped the meat for customers. Gary, L.A.’s oldest grandson was the butcher. For a while, Walter and Helen Pittman owned a myna bird, and believe it or not, they had it by the back door in the butcher shop. It would whistle and call out Helen’s name all the time. My child-self thought that was so very cool. My adult-self is like, oh my gosh, you had a bird in a butcher shop! So many things wrong with that. The Myna bird accounts for both odd sights and sounds. Across the street from the store, stood the mill, a huge glistening white building guarded by a row of tall palm trees and a green and white neon sign. The odd smells mentioned before? The dyes used contained formaldehyde. Occasionally, the dye vats were flushed into the river and released an acrid smell into the air. Yuck. Best thing ever at Pittman’s? Grapette from the cooler!

Pittman’s store was fundamentally tied to the textile mill, whether it was Planters and Merchants, Mission Valley Mills, or Westpoint Pepperell. Pittman’s opened before first shift so workers could fill up on breakfast tacos (yes!) and get sandwiches for their noon meal. They cashed checks and ran charge accounts for groceries. They even delivered. Before the war, Pittman’s would purchase flat fold yardage of ginghams from the mill to sell at the store. There would be people lined up before the store opened to purchase that fabric. L.A.’s daughter, Bernice, would cut gingham sample swatches stapled together with cardboard labeled Comal Cottons to mail out to people. Mr. McKenna purchase that name for his own retail operation. After the war, Comal Cottons retail store opened across the street. Pittman’s returned to grocery sales and Gary would later go on to a career with Comal Cottons and then fabric sales.

Pittman’s Store remained a staple in Milltown serving people of the area until the family closed the doors for the last time in late 1979.

Sources: https://historicbridgefoundation.com/txbridges/hillcountry/comal/faust.html; Sophienburg Museum & Archives; Around the Sophienburg, Myra Lee Adams Goff; Gary Pittman; Bonnye Manning.

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By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

Request from Fargo, North Dakota: Do you know anything about a New Braunfels photographer named J. Serdinko? “Uhhh…yeah,” I thought to myself, “but not enough to answer this request!”

The Sophienburg photograph collections contain several hundred thousand images; about 300 of those are impressed with Serdinko’s name. These take the form of carte de visite (small business card-size photos), cabinet cards (hardboard-backed photos larger than a postcard) and stereoviews (two-image cards for use with a stereoptican viewer).

Yes, Serdinko was a photographer in New Braunfels. But who WAS he?

John, or Ivan, Serdinko was born in Bohemia in 1849 and emigrated to Texas in the 1860s. He became a naturalized citizen in 1867. I found him, and his partner Alonzo Newell Calloway, setting up a photo studio in a tent in Columbus in 1875. By January 1879, Serdinko had set up shop in New Braunfels and in November of that year he married Ernestine Fernanda Reich, daughter of Julius Reich of Hortontown. The couple moved to Fredericksburg to set up a studio.

In July 1880, John and Ernestine were back in New Braunfels and opened a studio on Seguin Street across from the woolen manufacturing company. The quality of his work was highly praised in the Neu-Braunfelser Zeitung.

Serdinko proved to be more than a good photographer; he was also an inventor. In February 1882, John received his first patent for “a portable darkroom for dry plate photography.” Serdinko was thinking of ways to improve and adapt his profession to the changing times.

In March of that same year, John and Ernestine put down roots and bought a house in New Braunfels. He purchased all new, up-to-date equipment and life for the couple looked bright. Tragedy struck in January 1883. The Serdinkos lost their 14-month-old son. That September, the studio moved closer to Main Plaza, two buildings down from the NB Zeitung office on Seguin Street.

John seemed to settle into life in NB and his studio did well. There had been photographers in New Braunfels as early as 1855, when a man set up a studio to produce daguerreotypes. You will find many photographers’ names on carte de visite and cabinet cards made in New Braunfels from the 1860s to the early 20th C: Carl Iwonsky (who was also a painter), William DeRyee, J.M. Slater, Doerr, Ranney, Winther, Jacobson, Jakobi & Parks, J.H. Chapman, Hoffmann, Schwarz and Klenke are a few.

Serdinko received a second patent, this time for a “rotary force pump,” in April 1885. He got a third patent in February 1886 for a “wind machine.” Like so many of the early citizens, he was a highly educated man with many interests, very much a man living up to the ideals of the Victorian Age and the industrialization it brought. With glowing reports that the quality of his work was “as good as anywhere in the States,” Serdinko purchased all new photographic equipment.

The Serdinkos were blessed with a second child, Rosa Lee, in 1887. John was mainly producing cabinet cards and selling them for $3.50 per dozen. He became a trustee in the newly formed fraternal organization, Knights of the Golden Rule (sort of a mutual aid society). Folks dropped by his studio to have both posed and candid photos taken. Serdinko photographed the first members of the Six and Sixty-six Card Club.

In November of 1887, trouble was brewing in the domestic life of the Serdinkos. Mrs. Serdinko had a sale which included household items, a windmill, pumps, and handwork, to be paid in cash. Ernestine then informed the public on March 1, 1888 that she was leaving NB in two weeks and was selling what was left of her furniture, picture frames and more. She also said she would finish all her photos at a very low price; she must have been doing some of the processing for her husband. She left and the studio on Seguin Street was rented to J.W. Writer who came from the studio of Serdinko’s friend, Alonzo N. Calloway, in San Antonio.

In April, John Serdinko returned from travelling to California and reopened a studio. When did he leave? Where did he go? I followed his trail west, and I found the reason for the North Dakota request. During 1887, Serdinko somehow met up with F. Jay Haynes of Fargo. Haynes was the official photographer of the Northern Pacific Railroad. He had his own railcar fitted out as living quarters and photography studio and is best known for his early views of Yellowstone National Park. There are several stereoviews, from the “Northwestern Pacific Views” series, depicting Native Americans and one view of Yellowstone that are published by Serdinko in Fargo. There are also cabinet cards with “Serdinko, New Braunfels” found in Fargo.

John may not have been the best husband, but he was shaping up to be an interesting man.

When the new IG&N railroad bridge across the Guadalupe River collapsed in 1891, John Serdinko was the photographer who chronicled the tragedy. In 1892, Serdinko designed and fabricated “an excellent telephone apparatus” which was installed to connect Henry Streuer’s Two Brothers Saloon on Main Plaza with the Streuer home in Comaltown. This was the first telephone in New Braunfels!

Serdinko sold his studio and took off for the 1893 Columbian Exposition in Chicago — – THE perfect place for an inventor and photographer. After his return to NB in October, John received his fourth patent for “an automatic telephone exchange system.” He then rented his home on Seguin Street and moved to San Antonio in 1894. Serdinko got a patent for his telephone in April 1895.

The photographic business was sold to L. J. Wilson in 1899. Serdinko is listed in the 1900 Census for Colorado County and in March of 1901, Ernestine filed for divorce in the District Court in San Antonio.

And this is where I lost the trail for John, or Ivan, Serdinko. I found the last tidbit of his life in Ernestina Serdinko nee Reich’s family tree, “He died 11/15/1919 in Austria.”

How this free-thinking, intelligent, wanderlustig photographer and inventor made it to Austria remains a mystery.

Sources: Sophienburg Museum & Archives: Reich family genealogy; New Braunfelser-Zeitung; New Braunfels Herald; Lens on theTexas Frontier, by Lawrence T. Jones III; Nesbitt Memorial Library, Colorado County History, Part 8, by Bill Stein; 1900 Census, Colorado County, Texas; https://texashistory.unt.edu/explore/collections/TDNP/; https://dsloan.com; https://www.ha.com/; https://www.yellowstonestereoviews.com/

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Texas is the perfect environment for many creatures. One of them is snakes, and here in central Texas we have poisonous ones: copperheads, coral snakes, cottonmouths (water moccasins) and rattlesnakes. Early Comal Countians were very familiar with our slithering neighbors. The NB Zeitung records many encounters by citizens all around the county — – many of them deadly. Here are some of the early ones:

• 1855 — Joseph Scherz of Cibolo DIED of snake bite.
• 1859 — 6-yr-old son of Mr. Hazeldanz of 8 Mile Creek DIED of rattlesnake bite.
• 1860 — Son of Wilhelm Fehlis of York Creek found DEAD of snake bite where he was picking dewberries.
• 1861 — G. Sacherer killed 6’8” long, 10” diameter rattlesnake.
• 1868 — Son of Kresche DIED of snake bite and Bartels loses horse from snake bite, both from Hortontown.
• 1874 — Morhoff of Comaltown bitten on hand by rattlesnake.
• 1880 — C.J. Wells, caretaker of mail and stagecoach stop, DIED of snake bite.
• 1881- Child of Mr. Riesling of York Creek bitten by rattlesnake while picking cotton; Johanna See DIED of rattlesnake bite; Henry Lueers of Purgatory Springs killed 6’ rattlesnake that had 10 baby rabbits inside; Mrs. Wilhelm Uhle bitten by snake.
• 1882 — Child of Christian Pape and child of Jacob Heidrich bitten by rattlesnake.
• 1886 — F. Alves killed large rattlesnake with 13 rattles; F. Donnerberg of Blanco, killed rattlesnake with 15 rattles and five unhatched eggs.
• 1887 — 8-yr-old son of W. Fenske of Davenport bitten by copperhead.
• 1890 — Julius, son of Fritz Coers, DIED of rattlesnake bite; son of Theo. Heise of Hancock Valley bitten by rattlesnake.
• 1894 — Carl Brehm of Selma and Fritz Buch of Schumannsville bitten by rattlesnakes; 8-yr-old daughter of Heinrich Jentsch of Huaco Springs and 4-yr-old child of George Beierle DIED of snakebite.
• 1895 — Mr. Thormeyer bitten by rattlesnake; John Sippel killed rattlesnake with 12 rattles; 65-yr-old Marie Werner DIED from rattlesnake bite; Heinrich Jentsch of Hueco Springs killed 30 rattlesnakes on his farm from January until October (he lost his daughter to snakebite in 1894).
• 1896 — Hermann Dierks and Mrs. Frank Nowotny bitten by rattlesnake; 10-yr-old son of Syl. Steubing DIED from rattlesnake bite.
• 1900 — 2-yr-old son of Carl Tonne of Davenport bitten on the leg by rattlesnake.
• 1901 — 10-yr-old daughter of Fritz Scheel of Anhalt DIED of rattlesnake bite while walking to school.
• 1902 — Willie Bremer of Bracken bitten by rattlesnake; son of Friedrich Jonas bitten by rattlesnake while picking cotton.
• 1903 — Heinrich Harborth and H. W. Glenewinkel found nest of snakes in Harborth’s pasture and killed an 8’ prairie snake and 12 rattlesnakes; Max Heimer of Smithsons Valley and Theodore Holekamp bitten by rattlesnakes; Marie Syring bitten by snake while cutting corn tops on her father’s farm.
• 1904 — 19-yr-old Eduard Jonas bit by rattlesnake in cornfield; Arno Jentsch bitten by snake; 8 yr-old son of Heinrich Schneider bitten on finger by rattlesnake.
• 1906 — Franz Preiss and Ottomer Linnartz were at Twin Sisters and came upon a rattlesnake running with 12 babies. She saw them and swallowed all the little snakes. 8-yr-old daughter of Rudolph Jonas DIED of rattlesnake bite.
• 1919 — 9-yr-old daughter of Ernst Pape of Sattler DIED of rattlesnake bite.

The paper also has articles on how to treat snakebite. In 1855, it suggested the use of whiskey and button snakeroot (Eryngium yuccifolium or Liatris squarrosa, both go by the common name “rattlesnake master”). I had to do some research. The chewed roots were applied to wounds and used as a cure for snakebite by Native Americans. They also used it to expel worms, induce vomiting and treat liver trouble. The plant could be used in the treatment of disorders of the kidneys and sexual organs since it had diaphoretic, diuretic and (in large doses) emetic properties. Other ailments treated with button snakeroot were infectious fevers and respiratory complaints. Did the whiskey just make it go down easier?

My dad recently told me a story about my granddaddy. When he was a little boy growing up in Schumannsville, he stuck his hand down a rat hole. He got bit by a rattlesnake. His mom ran to the chicken house and grabbed a hen “that was sitting on eggs.” Ripping it apart down the middle, she wrapped the chicken around his hand and left it on the wound until the “meat turned blue.” Granddaddy got sick, but it didn’t kill him. David Hartmann recently shared this same cure on a Facebook post, so it must have been common knowledge for folks around here. A friend of mine who grew up in Mexico says they used to do the same thing. A dead chicken? Apparently, the chicken’s body temperature is higher and this draws the poison into it and out of you. I don’t know the medical reason, but it saved my granddaddy’s life.

Back then, fewer people meant more places for these creatures to live. Today, with all the new building and loss of farm and pasture land, you’d think we would see a decline in the snake population. But not around my house. I know some of you like snakes and just walk around them. That’s fine. But even when I know the role they play in “the circle of life,” I’d rather not share my space with them. I live on property known as “Rattlesnake Hill” by old-timers. A couple of years ago, my mom killed over 20 rattlers one spring. This spring we have had three sightings and two exterminations….one got away into the bushes. One of the deceased had actually moved in under my back porch. For over a month we could hear the rattles go off every time we walked over the floor. Named the thing Sparkles. Sparkles scared my exterminator away…literally. Finally, my son met Sparkles on the its way out from under the house, with a .22.

RIP, Sparkles.

Sources: https://pfaf.org/user/Plant/aspx?LatinName=Eryngium; https://gardensoftheblueridge.com; https://botanical.com/botanical/mgmh/s/snabut57.html; Neu Braunfelser Zeitung collection, Sophienburg Museum and Archives

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