By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

This is the story of two mark­ers. One was put up at Co­mal Springs in 1968, and the other was placed out­side the yard of Franz and Mary Joyce Coreth on Hwy 46 (it now stands in front of Chick-fil-A). They both mark the lo­ca­tion of Mis­sion Nues­tra Señora de Guadalupe.

So the ques­tion is, why? Some back­ground on the mis­sion is needed to un­der­stand.

Very ba­si­cally, the es­tab­lish­ment of the mis­sions in Texas be­gan in the 1630s. Spain needed to hold the land, and they wanted to Chris­tian­ize the na­tive peo­ples. Fran­cis­can monks were tasked to set up and over­see mis­sions across Texas which would gather the mi­gra­tory tribes into per­ma­nent set­tle­ments with the hope of con­vert­ing them to Chris­tian­ity, as well as teach them agri­cul­tural tech­niques and trades.

Spain usu­ally sent sol­diers along with the Fran­cis­can mis­sion­ar­ies to es­tab­lish pre­sidios (forts) for the pro­tec­tion of the mis­sions and set­tle­ments. The pre­sidios and the mis­sions were hardly com­pat­i­ble, both with dif­fer­ing agen­das. Trou­ble be­tween the sol­diers and the Na­tive Amer­i­cans led to fric­tion be­tween the mis­sion­ar­ies and the sol­diers. The monks ab­horred the abuse and an­tag­o­nis­tic mea­sures the sol­diers used against the na­tive peo­ple they were try­ing to be­friend.

Our mis­sion, Nues­tra Señora de Guadalupe was born out of this strug­gle.

Three mis­sions were es­tab­lished on the San Xavier (San Gabriel) River in Milam County in the 1740s: San Fran­cisco Xavier de Hor­c­a­sitas (1747), San Ilde­fonzo (1748) and Nues­tra Señora de la Can­de­laria (1749). These were re­ferred to as the San Xavier mis­sions. The pre­sidio San Fran­cisco Xavier de Gigedo was set up to guard all three mis­sions.

The re­la­tion­ship be­tween these mis­sions and the neigh­bor­ing pre­sidio broke down over the mis­treat­ment of the Na­tive Amer­i­cans. The con­flict went on un­re­solved for sev­eral years, cul­mi­nat­ing in the mur­der of Friar Juan Jose Ganzábal and a civil­ian at the Can­dalaria Mis­sion in Feb­ru­ary 1752. Sol­diers, Na­tive Amer­i­cans and civil­ians were gath­ered and held for ques­tion­ing. Of­fi­cial pro­ceed­ings held at Pre­sidio San An­to­nio de Be­jar (the fort pro­tect­ing the San An­to­nio mis­sions) took place from May 13 to June 14, but reached no real judg­ment and with­out con­vic­tions or any­one pun­ished.

By 1753, the San Xavier mis­sions were full of fear and faced the added tragedy of drought which led to bad wa­ter and “pests” which brought sick­ness; the mis­sion­ar­ies were plead­ing to be re­lo­cated to the San Mar­cos springs. San Ilde­fonzo no longer had priests or Na­tive Amer­i­cans and Can­de­laria was left with only one friar. San Fran­cisco Xavier man­aged to hold onto 70 con­verted Na­tive Amer­i­cans and one friar. Even the pre­sidio cap­tain was re­quest­ing to move to the San Saba River.

In 1755, mis­sion­ar­ies and re­main­ing Na­tive Amer­i­cans fled with­out Church or Span­ish sanc­tion to the San Mar­cos River. Some of the na­tive peo­ple moved to the San An­to­nio de Valero mis­sion (Alamo): Co­cos, Xaraname, Te­jas, Bidai and Or­co­quiza tribes were among them. The May­eye peo­ple re­fused to go to San An­to­nio and stayed with the friar of San Fran­cisco Xavier at San Mar­cos. He re­quested and was given per­mis­sion to es­tab­lish a mis­sion on the Guadalupe River. He also re­quested and was given per­mis­sion to not have a pre­sidio but civil­ians “of good fam­ily” to help pro­tect the mis­sion.

In 1756, the mis­sion San Fran­cisco Xavier de Hor­c­a­sitas was re­lo­cated and reestab­lished in New Braun­fels as Mis­sion Nues­tra Señora de Guadalupe. The site cho­sen had been scouted out by sol­diers and priests from San An­to­nio and de­scribed in records:

There are sev­eral large springs flow­ing from a rocky hill nearby, and ad­van­tages for an ir­ri­ga­tion ditch on the west side of the river a short dis­tance from the springs; there is ex­cel­lent lands for crops, plen­ti­ful tim­ber, pas­ture lands, and the ridge north of the stream is thought to con­tain min­er­als.

The new mis­sion was vis­ited in 1757 and said to be com­prised of a small mis­sion build­ing (most likely of wood con­struc­tion) with two fri­ars, 41 Na­tive Amer­i­cans (May­eye) of which 27 were bap­tized, and sev­eral huts in which lived four civil­ian fam­i­lies.

At this point, in­for­ma­tion on Nues­tra Señora lit­er­ally van­ishes from records. All that is ref­er­enced is a re­quest of the fri­ars for the re­turn of San Fran­cisco Xavier’s equip­ment (6 bells and some uten­sils val­ued at $1804.50. The equip­ment even­tu­ally went to the new San Saba mis­sion. There is also a state­ment in 1762, that says at the time of the San Saba mis­sion’s de­struc­tion in March 1758, Mis­sion Nues­tra Señora de Guadalupe had al­ready been aban­doned due to its in­abil­ity to sus­tain it­self against mul­ti­ple en­e­mies.

Know­ing all of that, we can re­turn to the dilemma of two mark­ers. Based on the de­tailed de­scrip­tion of the site in 1756, it seems the short-lived mis­sion could have been down by the Co­mal Springs (1968 marker). And al­though the mis­sion name in­cludes “Guadalupe” we need to re­mem­ber that early Span­ish ex­plor­ers of­ten called the Co­mal, from the springs to the con­flu­ence, the Guadalupe. This seems to be a good fit.

The 1936 marker up on Texas Highway 46 claims Nues­tra Señora to be near or on Mis­sion Hill. Was it likely that they would es­tab­lish a set­tle­ment on the hill and travel through Pan­ther Canyon to Co­mal Springs? Would they have used the spring at Alt­gelt’s pond be­low Mis­sion Hill? Per­haps Mis­sion Hill held some sort of sig­nif­i­cance as the high­est point? Could it have been named be­cause of its just over a mile lo­ca­tion from the mis­sion down by Co­mal Springs? It seems a less likely lo­ca­tion.

Also, who gave the hill that name: Na­tive Amer­i­cans? Span­ish? Texas Rangers? The early Ger­man im­mi­grants called it by that name and there are two maps that rec­og­nize it as Mis­sion Hill from 1878. Af­ter scour­ing the So­phien­burg Archives and talk­ing to archivists at the Texas Gen­eral Land Of­fice and at the Span­ish Col­lec­tion of the Bexar County Archives, hard, prov­able ev­i­dence of the lit­tle mis­sion’s lo­ca­tion just has­n’t been found.

So, the mys­tery around Nues­tra Señora de Guadalupe will re­main — a mis­sion lost but not for­got­ten.

Sources: Roemer’s Texas in 1848 by Ferdinand Roemer; “Texas in the Middle Eighteenth Century” by Herbert E. Bolton, “Proceedings Year of 1752” by Don Torivio de Vrrutia (Bexar County Archives); Handbook of Texas; Texas Almanac 1936; Texas Historical Commission; Texas General Land Office map collection; Sophienburg Museum & Archives map collection and Liebscher and Haas manuscript collections; https://www/texasalmanac.com/articles/the-spanish-mission-in-texas.

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

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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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