On May 19th the Sophienburg Museum and Archives will present a Civil War Exhibit about what was happening here in Comal County during the war and the period of Restoration which followed it. One segment of the exhibit, sponsored jointly by the NB German American Society, will feature the art work of Carl Iwonski (1830-1912). Art work can tell us much about the times.

The first time that the Iwonski name appeared in historical literature was in 1847 when Leopold Iwonski, father of Carl, and a group of disgruntled citizens appeared outside the Sophienburg where Adelsverein’s second Commissioner General, John Meusebach, was residing. That night the Iwonskis, along with others they had recruited, demanded that Meusebach come outside and either honor their land contracts in the Llano region or give their money back. The crowd became agitated and insisted that Meusebach be hanged on the spot.

The von Iwonski family hails from the present Polish area of Silisia, originally a province until 1526, when it was overtaken by Austria. Then in 1742 it was overtaken by the Prussian state of Germany and finally returned to Poland in 1945 after WWII. When artist Carl Iwonski was born, it was part of Germany and his ancestral roots are Polish.

Political turmoil seemed to surround Leopold Iwonski. “He was described as an expelled Prussian” and he was no longer welcome in his native land. (Source: “John O. Meusebach”, Irene Marshall King)

Leopold Iwonski, his wife, and two children emigrated to New Braunfels with the Adelsverein in 1845. Carl was 15 at the time. The family moved across the Guadalupe into Hortontown, then in Guadalupe County. Iwonski became the land agent for owner Albert C. Horton, selling 50 acre tracts. He retained 41 acres of land for his farm. Young Carl Iwonski spent his early years clearing the land and helping his father construct the family home. In 1847 the home became a stagecoach inn and saloon, as it was on the Nacogdoches crossing of the Guadalupe. We learn from Carl’s painting what the interior of the tavern looked like.

Carl and his brother, Adolph, involved themselves with New Braunfels activities. They joined the Turnverein. His drawings of amateur theater in 1854 tell us what the stage and scenery looked like. Also his picture of Seele’s Saengerhalle is perhaps the only rendition we have of that building. The Iwonski exhibit features 25 original pencil or ink renditions of actors and actresses on stage at the Saengerhalle. Many of the characters on stage are recognizable, Hermann Seele being one of them.

Eventually, Iwonski and his parents moved to San Antonio where he taught drawing at the German-English school. He became a professional photographer with William DeRyee. DeRyee left San Antonio before the Civil War, but Iwonski kept the studio open.

Carl Iwonski was a Unionist. He was an admirer of fellow Unionist Sam Houston who refused to sign the oath of the Confederacy. In 1857 Ferdinand Lindheimer, editor of the Neu Braunfelser Zeitung, announced that a portrait of Sam Houston by Iwonski would be on display at the Saengerhalle theater.

At a time when many German Unionists of the Hill Country were being arrested or killed, somehow Iwonski managed to avoid conscription. Check out Sophienburg.com, Nov. 3, 2009.

Immediately after the war, the Unionists in San Antonio hoisted the American flag over the Alamo. Both Carl and his father were staunch Unionist Republicans. Carl drew a very controversial cartoon in the newspaper showing the Democrats’ exit from their public offices as a result of their affiliation with the Confederacy. With a Union victory, Iwonski became tax collector of San Antonio, however, when the Democrats swept office in the next election of 1872, Iwonski was out of office and he left for Germany. The next year he returned to SA and completed portraits of many prominent families. After the death of his father in 1872, Carl and his mother returned to Silisia.

Iwonski’s panoramic painting of New Braunfels tells us much about NB’s early days. The recently rediscovered10x10 ft. Prussian Council of War, 1870 oil on canvas will be featured. The rest of the Civil War exhibit, opening May 19th, will be just as interesting.

The post Artist Iwonski part of Civil War exhibit appeared first on Sophies Shop.

By Keva Hoffmann Boardman —

It used to be when you traveled, you would pick up postcards at all the locations you visited. Then you would either send them home to family and friends or keep them as a souvenir. Postcards were cheap, easy and extremely portable. The coming of the digital age has made the popularity of postcards shrink considerably. We no longer buy a card, address it, go find a post office, buy stamps and send a post card; although, in foreign countries, this process could and often did entail laughter and make memories in and of itself. Today, we use our phone to take a photo and “post” it on social media almost immediately letting friends and family in on our travels. I recently got a postcard from a friend in France that I had to pay postage on to receive — they had posted it without postage. Still, it was nice thought.

Looking through the postcard collection of the Sophienburg Museum and Archives, I began to see how today we are missing the personal nature of sending a postcard. Many cards in the collection had been chosen to either remember an event or location or to appeal to the one who received the card and message. They were little “hellos” from loved ones (like to or from a soldier in WWI), a reminder of love (to girl or boyfriends), a reassurance to parents as to one’s safety and prosperity, or an announcement of some personal benchmark (promotion, marriage or baby). I still can pick up books at home and find postcards I used as bookmarks, and I’m immediately taken back in time to remember a person or place.

These little 3 ½ by 5 ½ inch pieces of cardstock have a fairly long history. As early as the 1860s, postcards were printed by both private publishers and country postal systems. These were blank on one side for an “open” message and printed with a stamp on the other side which was also where the address was to be written. By the 1870s, the cost to send a postcard was one penny in the U.S.; that was half the amount of a letter in an envelope.

Illustrated postcards came along in the 1890s. These are mostly greyscale (black and white) line drawings, etchings or engravings of locations. Since the illustrations filled one side of the card, the other side was divided; the right half provided space for stamp and address and the left half had room for a short message. Sometimes there was a wider border on the illustration side that could be used to continue the message.

As people grew more and more mobile via first the railroads and then cars, and as they had more “free time” and spare cash, vacation travel cards became very popular. The 1890s saw an uptick in the thousands of cards printed and sold. Early photographers got into the trend and produced stunning black-and-white photographs of towns, country landscapes, ancient ruins and beaches, as well as iconic works of art and cultural rituals. The world was becoming smaller each time a postcard was, well, posted. They were also collected to place in albums as souvenirs of special holiday vacations.

Postcards from 1915 to the 1930s are mostly printed with a white border. These early color views were produced with colored ink on inexpensive cardstock. They have a white border around the image to save on ink. The illustration also usually has a caption. In the 1930s, postcards are printed on a higher quality paper with a linen-like texture and no white border. The ink colors, on both of these early 20th century postcards, are vivid and intense and sometimes unusual. The color photo postcards we are familiar with today began to show up at gas stations as souvenirs in the 1940s.

There is actually a name for postcard collectors — a deltiologist. Greek deltos (small tablet or letter) and logia (study of). This appellation was coined at Ohio State University in 1945. Prior to that, postcard enthusiasts were called philocartists, a name akin to stamp collectors, philatelists. It’s all Greek to me.

The Sophienburg Museum & Archives collects postcards because they are important in research. They depict specific times and scenes in New Braunfels history. They chronicle our cultural and social events. Postcards can be utilized to teach geography and writing skills to our children. But they are also beautiful and just plain fun.

Beginning in April, an exhibition at The Sophienburg will showcase many postcard images of New Braunfels and Comal County from the collection. I guarantee it will take you back in time in a visually stunning way.

FYI: Postcard collecting is the third largest collecting hobby, eclipsed only by stamp collecting and coin/banknote collecting.

Sources: Sophienburg postcard collection; Smithsonian Institution Archives – Postcards; The Postal Museum – Postcards.

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

The post Posting memories appeared first on Sophies Shop.

Growing up on Kentucky Boulevard in the ‘60s, my “backyard” included Panther Canyon. All the streets in that hilltop neighborhood dead-ended at the canyon, including Kentucky before New Braunfels High was built. We called it simply “the canyon” and it provided many hours of imaginative exploration, old tires for us to make into tire swings, and a quick way down to the park. There were a few cave-like holes in the cliff face which we were certain were the lairs of panthers and bears, although we never saw any.

In 1853, Hermann Seele described an incident which occurred at Comal Springs in the local paper. It was reprinted in the 1906 Neu-Braunfelser Zeitung Kalendar and then translated into English by Oscar Haas in 1970. In the article, Seele described the humbling beauty of the springs and the crystal clear waters of the Comal. Then, he cut to the chase.

On a pleasant April evening in 1852, Maria Z. had taken medicine to an indigent family living in the forest and had come to the main spring. After having rested there for a length of time … she suddenly heard a scream which she at first took to be the voice of a woman. However, of this she was soon disillusioned when at the same moment there came out of the thick underbrush, a huge panther which rolled himself close to her side.

Maria was, understandably, so frozen in terror that she didn’t even call out. She and the panther locked eyes for several long minutes. The panther made no move to attack her and she had almost decided it was all her imagination when it began to whine loudly in pain. Maria then noticed that the animal could not close its jaws — at all — never mind having her for lunch.

Now looking more closely, she was astounded to discover that a large bone was wedged in between the molar and eye teeth, which prevented the animal from closing its jaws … the animal turned its head slowly closer as if to show the difficult situation it was in.

Could it be possible, she thought, that instinct tells wild animals that man can help them if he wants to? She recalled the story about the slave Androcles and the lion … but even if it had been in her power to dislodge that bone, would not the danger then be even greater?

Apparently, Maria and the beast exchanged a look that gave her the courage to move closer and relaxed the panther so that he moved his paws away from her. Picking up a nearby stone and wedge-like stick, she knocked the bone free from the panther’s jaw. Maria remained very quiet and still and watched as the animal moved over to the springs to take what could have been his first drink in hours, if not even days. As the panther drank his fill, Maria high-tailed it to the nearby cabin of George Klappenbach where she promptly fainted. Waking half an hour later, Maria told the family about her fantastic adventure.

The family hardly could believe it, but walking well-armed to the spring, found there the bone on which the impressions of strong teeth were plainly visible, also the slaver-covered wedge and stone, and in particular the impress in the grass where the panther had lain, and the still fresh footprints at the spring. The next day the footprints were followed far up into the hills; but the panther itself never was found.

Was this story responsible for the name “Panther Canyon” being given to the gorge behind the springs? Now, if only my brother Tobin and Randy Lohman and I had known that story back-in the-day. The adventures we could have made up!

While on the search for the answer, I came across some interesting ideas this community has had for Panther Canyon in the not-too-distant past. Did you know that the canyon was acquired by the city in the mid-’40s? That in 1958, the park wanted to have a pony ride concession down in the canyon? That in 1961, the Chamber of Commerce proposed building a replica of the Braunfels Castle to use as a museum somewhere in the canyon’s tree-shadowed bottom? That the Lions Club had looked into erecting a 1600-seat amphitheater under the limestone cliffs in 1963? That in 1968 and again in 1973, the city seriously considered building a bridge across Panther Canyon to connect California Boulevard to Fredericksburg Road in order to cut down the traffic through the park?

These proposals, products of their time, seem odd, even unthinkable, to us now. We know the area as a nature trail and truth-be-told, I’m rather glad none of them came to fruition and “the canyon” retains some of the wildness of my childhood memories.

I still don’t know when citizens began calling the gorge Panther Canyon. The Sophienburg has drawings and maps as far back as 1845 showing the canyon, but it doesn’t appear named on one until WPA plans in 1936. If anybody out there knows please let me know. Until then I’m going with Hermann Seele’s story as the source.

One more thing. In 1971, there was a resident on Panther Canyon who recorded big cat tracks measuring 2½ to 3 inches wide in the mud of the usually dry creek bed after a hard rain. Who knows what might still be lurking in the leafy, quiet depths of what we call Panther Canyon.

Sources:

• Neu-Braunfelser Zeitung, New Braunfels Herald and New Braunfels Herald-Zeitung
• Oscar Haas Collection — Sophienburg Museum and Archives
• Historic Map Collection — Sophienburg Museum and Archives

The post Panthers in the park appeared first on Sophies Shop.