We know a lot about our Comal River but not so much about the Guadalupe. Did you know that the Guadalupe is 226 miles longer than the Comal? It’s a tumultuous and erratic river. The Comal, on a flooding rampage, affects New Braunfels; the Guadalupe, on a flooding rampage, affects 230 miles of property, trees, land, and people.

Here’s the really good side of the Guadalupe: it has provided hours and days of camping, boating, and summer camps. Where else but a summer camp would you have learned the words to “Doktor Eisenbart”?

I am Herr Doktor Eisanbart, Twil li wil li witt boom boom

I’ll cure your ills with healing art, Twil li wil li witt boom boom

Sing to ri ay, sing to ri ay,Twil li wil li witt boom boom boom boom!

Let’s take a trip down the Guadalupe River starting at its source in Kerr County and eventually giving up the ghost when it empties into the Gulf of Mexico. There it is a small stream in a big pond. The river in Kerr County is formed by two tributaries and the towns of Kerrville and Comfort were established nearby.

The story goes that the Guadalupe River, as far back as 1689, was called Nuestra Señora de Guadalupe by Spanish explorer, Alonso De León. Other names were applied by later Spanish explorers. At one time the river’s major contributory, the Comal, was actually called Guadalupe and the Guadalupe was called the San Ybón. It’s impossible to know what the Indian tribes who inhabited the banks called it. The Tonkawa, Waco, Lipan Apaches, Karankawa, Coahuiltican and Comanche all left evidence of their presence up and down the banks.

Missions were established along the river’s tributaries. Several were located above Victoria, one near San Marcos Springs, and one near the Comal Springs.

After the mission era, Mexicans, Europeans and Americans moved into Texas and along the Guadalupe. Martin De Leon established Victoria in 1824 and in 1825 James Kerr established Gonzales. Ben Mc Cullough surveyed Walnut Springs in 1839. This name changed to Seguin. You will remember that most of those towns, except Victoria, were stopping points for the early settlers who were following the Guadalupe from Indianola on their way to New Braunfels, now the largest town along the Guadalupe.

The completion of the large Canyon Lake and Dam interrupted the river’s flow. After forming a large lake, the river resumes its flow at the outlet of the dam. Before Canyon Dam floods were rampant but now somewhat controlled by the dam.

At this point a really beautiful part of the Guadalupe begins as it comes out of the outlet. It begins its journey to New Braunfels, passing the River Road, several crossings and tourist courts and camps. Let’s look in particular at one camp, Slumber Falls Camp.

Slumber Falls Camp developed along the Guadalupe in the early 1930s at just the right time due to the building of roads and the popularity of the automobile. The camp was a place to get away from the city and enjoy the beauty of the hill country river. In the open air cabins the sound of the water falls contributed to the enjoyment of outdoor camping.

The history of the ownership of the land on which Slumber Falls is located goes back to 1890 when Joseph Landa purchased a large parcel of the Veramendi Tract on the Guadalupe for cattle raising. There is evidence that locals already used this area for picnicking and swimming. Years later the property was owned by Harry Landa, Joseph Landa’s son. Harry sold 20 acres in this tract to Francis Schulz Lillie for $1,545. Francis Lillie, along with her husband Will and brother, Herman Schrader, developed the property into a tourist camp. Steps leading down to the river show their presence with etchings of their names in concrete steps .Retaining walls were built and together the three built 11 cabins, one at a time as they could afford them. The tourist camp was a popular spot, a place to get away from the city, enjoy the beauty of the hill country river valley and slumber in the open air cabins with the sound of waterfalls. Situated on top of a high bluff’s pinnacle on the camp property is a stunning view of the river below.

World War II had a devastating effect on the tourist industry in general, but after the war, interest resumed. In 1946 Will Lillie died and Francis sold the tourist court to her two nephews and a third party for$20,000.Then in 1954-56 a terrible drought virtually caused the Guadalupe to dry up and the tourist court was closed. The nephews decided to sell.

The Texas Synod of the United Church of Christ purchased the tract for $16,500. They held their first youth camp in the summer of 1958. Preservation of the open- air cabins, out of financial necessity, resulted in campers of today experiencing nature and camping like the 1930s. They can still slumber with the sound of waterfalls. Improvements have been made, but several of the screened-in cabins remain. Slumber Falls Camp and Recreation Center still has remnants of the tourist camp that reflect the early tourism trend, making it eligible for listing in the National Register of Historic Places.

At the base of the steps leading down to the water, the Guadalupe River rushes over rocks and past cypress lined banks to its final destination. On the way to the Gulf it picks up water from its largest tributary, the Comal. About two miles west of Gonzales, the San Marcos River flows into the Guadalupe and then the San Antonio River joins the river just north of Tivoli. Heading down to the coast and ahead of the estuary, the river forms a delta and splits in two sections referred to as the North and South Guadalupe. Each flows into the San Antonio Bay and then to its final destination, the Gulf of Mexico.

The post Slumber Falls on the Guadalupe appeared first on Sophienburg Museum and Archives.

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.

The post Tale of two markers appeared first on Sophienburg Museum and Archives.

Hermann Seele gave us a good description of the Texas Hill Country. I’m paraphrasing what he said and you can observe as you drive between Austin and San Antonio on Highway 35. In the distance, take notice of a low, dark green line of cedar-covered hills. This line indicates the location of the Edwards Escarpment. Along this line, the earth split long ago and the coastal plain on which you are traveling fell away several hundred feet. This falling exposed a limestone strata. Subterranean waters gushed forth to the surface by pressure and found themselves exposed to the surface. Barton Springs, San Marcos Springs, San Antonio Springs (Brackenridge Park) and Comal Springs are examples. The springs fed streams causing an abundance of water below the fault.

Now go above the fault and you see the beautiful hill country where so many small communities were established soon after New Braunfels was settled. In the hill country, surface water is scarce and wells are essential. Most of the land is used for ranching and small farms. The Guadalupe River and small creeks were important sources of water in the hill country. The settlements outside of the city limits of New Braunfels were created where water was available. One of the areas about 25 miles Northwest of New Braunfels was settled in 1850 and called Honey Creek.

Back in the early 1840s, a man named Andrew Bechtold heard stories from friends and relatives in Germany that Texas was indeed the “promised land” found along the Guadalupe River. With that thought in mind, Bechtold, along with his wife Christina and their five sons, made the 32 day trip across the seas, arriving on the coast just about when the cholera epidemic broke out. Many immigrants died and the tragedy for Christina was that her husband and four of her five children perished.

Christina who was 27 years old at the time and her one surviving son, Michael, had no choice but to make the difficult trip inland by ox wagon. These immigrants were looking for unclaimed land. Christina was Roman Catholic so she joined others of that same faith.

Among those immigrants was a single man named George Friedrich Kunz and it was on this trip that Mrs. Bechtold met and married Mr. Kunz. Together they came to an area of unclaimed land outside New Braunfels belonging to the State of Texas where a stream emptied into the Guadalupe River. They chose a spot where a small spring bubbled from under a rock. They applied for a homestead and within two years the 160 acres would be theirs.

The land was mostly caliche and so they constructed a shelter until they could construct a cedar log house. Buildings of cedar were very strong. Cedar logs were an important resource. Do you know why chests were made of cedar? Bugs don’t like it. While the couple was busy building their house, her son Michael was sent to the creek to get drinking water. On the banks he came upon a large number of swarming bees hanging from a tree forming a large clump. Michael ran back to the parents to tell them of his find and they decided to return to the place and look for honey that they knew must be there because of the bees. The name of the place became Honey Creek.

Of course, there are more than one story of the origin of the name Honey Creek. Another version is that early settlers found swarms of bees along the Guadalupe River. The creek bank would become a source of honey, a welcome addition to the meager diet of the settlers. Some even connect the name with the unusual honeycomb rock found in abundance in the area.

George Kunz was a resourceful man. He chopped cedar for his house. The cedar that he didn’t use for construction, he burned. He noticed that the burned cedar produced a coal that lasted for several hours. These coals could be used for heating an iron for ironing clothes. You may wonder why anyone would bother to iron clothes used in the outdoors. If you wash the stiff material that work clothes were made of, hang them out to dry, they are extremely stiff. Ironing the garment makes it more comfortable. This charcoal was George’s first cash crop and he hauled charcoal to sell in surrounding towns such as San Antonio, New Braunfels, and Boerne.

On one of these excursions, George Kunz met Rev. John Kosspiel, a Catholic missionary priest stationed at a parish in Boerne. He was actually a circuit-riding priest covering several counties. Kunz invited the priest to spend the night and say mass in his home. Other catholic families invited were Kneupper, Acker, Lux, Moos, Scheel, and Kaiser.

From that initial meeting, Kunz’s house became the site of services, even weddings. In 1876 a small log chapel was built near the Kunz home. It burned in 1877 and was replaced by a second log chapel. A larger frame church was built in 1892 on the site of what is now St. Joseph’s Educational Building.

After years of struggle, St. Joseph’s of Honey Creek received its first resident priest, Rev. Virgillus Draessel. Parishioner Barbara Wehe states that Draessel was in poor health and spoke almost no English, which was all right with his parishioners. He supposedly made a promise to the Blessed Virgin Mary that if he was made well, he would build a chapel on the hill and then a church. Land for this big church was purchased from Hermann Scheel. Rev. Draessel started the construction in 1908 and soon there was conflict between the priest and the parishioners who were building the structure.

Discouraged, Draessel returned to Germany for a couple of years at which time no progress was made in the church construction. He returned from Germany and completed the St. Joseph’s building. Rev. Draessel died after serving the church 34 years and was buried inside the church beneath the floor near the altar.

The Honey Creek State Natural Area, across the highway from St. Joseph’s Church is now open by guided tours only. It had its beginning as the Jacob Doeppenschmidt Ranch. The Doeppenschmidts were members of St. Joseph’s Church. As members of the family added parcels of land, the area eventually became the Honey Creek Ranch. This well-preserved wildlife area has become the showcase of the Texas Hill Country.

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