its officers ran high. Pictures were painted and drawn representing the sufferings and death of the unhappy people, and pathetic songs on that theme were written and sung. Both songs and pictures were sold at the different fairs taking place in Germany, and the money received for them was transmitted to the colonists. Meanwhile the settlers were working bravely to help themselves, and as at this time the state needed many laborers and teams, they found in her service steady employment, good wages and, afterwards, a ready market for all their surplus provisions. The United States established a military post, Fort Mason, near Fredricksburg, and a lively trade sprung up between the soldiers and the Germans, who thus became acquainted for the first time with United States money. It is said that this fort was built upon land bought by the Society, through Von Meusebach, for the colonists. The land so occupied by the United States has never been paid for. The Germans think that the gov ernment will eventually have to remunerate them for it, but the claim has been left so long in abeyance that it is not likely to be recognized at this late day.

The spring of 1847 found the society lands still uncolonized. More than three thousand of the six thousand immigrants sent for that purpose had died, and yet the lands had not even been approached; but Meusebach resolved to lose no more time before making a determined effort to reach the Fisher and Miller grant. He therefore fitted out an expedition of thirty well mounted and equipped men, and started on his journey. They had made but one day's march when they were overtaken by a messenger from Governor Henderson forbidding them to proceed, as the Indian agent, Colonel Neighbors, considered it too dangerous. The Comanches had been incited by the Mexicans to hostilities against the Americans and were preparing for an invasion of all the settlements; therefore this expedition would most likely meet with a bloody reception. In spite of this, Meusebach persevered in his project confident that he could pacify the savages. Attached to the command was one Cherokee and one Shawnee Indian, who strengthened the Baron in his belief that peaceful arrangements could be made with the Comanches, and so they continued their journey. They traveled in easy marches, going always up hill. The country rose until they reached the edge of the mountains; there they halted and took in the glorious sight. Before lay a thickly wooded valley broken by grand masses of primitive rock; above them towered the chalky heights; over all the setting sun threw its golden rays-flashing back from the glowing red granite and calcareous hills. Beyond rose the mountains, looking blue and misty in the distance. This lovely landscape

belonged to the society, and it was the first time that its officers had had the gratification of beholding it. The completely changed character of the country was a genuine surprise, and they beheld it with delight and admiration. They followed an Indian trail down into the valley and found there an ice cold spring, whose delicious waters invited them to an encampment. They stayed that night, resuming their march in the morning, through fertile plains and dense forests, and over stony ground to the bank of the Llano, a lovely stream dashing its crystal waters from rock to rock. Crossing it they passed the water-shed between the Llano and San Saba, and soon reached the latter river. For miles on both sides stretched a broad, fruitful, almost treeless valley, while the river itself was bordered on either bank by a wide and dense wood of oaks, forming a grand leafy canopy and "bearing acorns as large as hens' eggs." Two hundred years before, all this land was in possession of the Spaniards, who cultivated it, as was plainly shown by the irrigating ditches which stretched in every direction—the main ditch being six miles long. At present, on the north bank of the river stands the ruins of an old fort. This, in the fashion of the days of Spanish rule, was church as well as fortification—that is, a “Mission"-occupied by monks as well as soldiers, both of whom tried to civilize the Indians, teaching them the arts of peace, religion, and a wholesome dread of the Spaniards' arms. The four walls of the fort are in fine preservation, but it is roofless, and from the centre of the interior towers a stately mesquite tree, at least seventy-five years old. Not far from the wall are found mines and their refuse; these are thought to be the famous "San Saba mines," once famed for their richness, but now lost; and though many efforts have been made to find the vein, up to this time they have all been unsuccessful. Professor Boemer, of the University of Bonn, who accompanied Meusebach's expedition, made an examination but could find no traces of silver. He held that all chalky formations precluded its existence, but in this he was surely mistaken, for in Mexico it is in just such calcareous lands that the metal has been found.

Exactly when this Spanish settlement was established, cannot be accurately determined, probably in the last quarter of the seventeenth century, about the same time that the Alamo in San Antonio was built. It was abandoned in the last quarter of the eighteenth century, as told by a quaint old legend preserved in the archives of the Mexican State of Coahuila, which says that at that time there arrived a Franciscan Friar who related as follows: "One day, while he with his brethren were performing their religious exercises in the mission of San Saba, a number of Comanches appeared without the walls and asked for admission into the fort,

under the pretext of being desirous of instruction in the Christian religion. This Friar protested against their entrance, for he distrusted them. The commander of the fort also had his doubts, and, being debarred, the Indians lingered around for several days. Finally it seemed as if they were really in earnest, so they were received into the mission and well treated. Upon the following night the Friar had a dream in which Mary the Mother of Jesus appeared and warned him to rise at once and flee, as the savages would massacre every one within the walls. Thereupon he arose, dressed

and fled in the direction of a large river into which empties the San Saba. The following day he could hear the trampling of the horses and the Indian war whoop; he concluded that the Comanches had missed him, and were upon his track. Afar off he could see the great river, and he hastened in that direction. Nearer and nearer came the Indians; louder and more terrifying sounded their cries. When the over-wearied Friar reached the banks of the stream, he prayed fervently for help, and lo! the river divided itself, as the Red Sea of old, and he passed through it dry shod; but the Comanches who threw themselves after him perished in the meeting waters. In pious remembrance of his delivery he christened the river with the name of Brazos del Dio-Arm of God."

So runs the legend; a mixture of truth, superstition and miracle manufacture yet plainly showing how the old fort was abandoned and the mission stopped in its career of usefulness. The river named by the Friar is now called the Colorado-a misnomer, and undoubtedly a mistake of the Mexicans, who being unfamiliar with the topography of the country, confounded the two streams, for the Brazos of to-day should be the Colorado (and vice versa), as that was the "Red" river of the Indians.

When Meusebach and his men entered the valley of the San Saba, the first Indians were seen on the neighboring mountains. They were evidently scouts, posted there to observe the expedition as it entered the valley. The Cherokee and Shawnee accompanying the Germans, were sent to communicate with them. Returning, they reported that Buffalo Hump and his warriors awaited the colonists behind the mountains. Not the least dismayed, Meusebach and his men started eagerly forward. Upon reaching the first height they saw a number of Indians well mounted and armed cap-a-pie. Meusebach did not hesitate a moment: discharging his rifle into the air over his head, his followers doing the same, and all waving their hats, they charged down that slope and up the next one towards the Indians. These were at first supremely astonished, but soon comprehended the peaceful intentions the whites endeavored to convey. Uttering shouts of welcome, they galloped to meet the strangers; in a few moments there was a confused mingling of the two races; hands were shaken and greetings interchanged. Through his interpreters Meusebach made a full explanation to the Chief, and a common camp was pitched upon the San Saba. The pipe of peace was smoked and the Indians made to fully comprehend the object of the expedition; then they accorded permission to the Germans for all the lands between the San Saba and the Llano to be surveyed. The negotiations lasted three days, when Meusebach and his companions returned to New Braunfels. The lands were afterwards surveyed, and some few settlements made. The Comanches kept their word to the letter and were always friendly, until the time came when the Texans attacked them; then they became hostile, very naturally, and afterwards committed ravages along the whole line of settlements.

In Darmstadt, in 1847, an association was formed for the purpose of going to Texas and penetrating to these Llano lands. The number was limited to forty members, and they were called "the Fortiers"-a name which they have borne to the present day, for if an old settler is denominated a "Fortier," his antecedents are designated with exactitude. Although their limit of forty gave them their nomenclature, only thirty-seven members ever came to Texas, and these were exclusively well-bred gentle

men, such as foresters, civil engineers, physicians, and professors. They landed in Galveston in 1847, and went to New Braunfels on their way to the Llano. There they stopped some time, attempting to introduce into the colony communistic and socialistic principles; but without success. Such tenets did not agree with the aristocratic teachings of their princely founder, and accorded as ill with the respect for office and person implanted under the bureaucratic régime of Baron von Meusebach. Failing in their efforts, the Fortiers continued their way to the Llano, where they founded Castell, making it a colony of socialists and communists, and ruled according to their peculiar views; but even there these principles had only an ephemeral life; one by one the colonists left and went to some of the other settlements which did not indulge in such primitive ideas. A number of industrious German farmers, however, settled near there, until both banks of the Llano were occupied by them, but Castell," the town of the Fortiers," never became a city. It is now the post-office for the surrounding farms, and has a school and a church. The Fortiers were under the leadership of Spies, who afterwards played a conspicuous rôle in the Mayence society affairs, and every member of the band has borne a prominent part in the development of Texas, as congressmen, legislators, county officers, physicians and in mercantile life; only six of the number are now living.

Towards the close of the year 1847, the Society of Mayence was bankrupt; more than two hundred thousand dollars had been spent to Germanize Texas, and what had been the result? The prosperity, indeed the continued existence of New Braunfels and Fredricksburg were doubtful, and Castell had but just been founded. The news of the misery and death of the immigrants had checked in a great degree the emigration fever. No one trusted the society, and to cap the climax of their misfortunes there was the imminent probability of losing the land which had been appropriated by the contract with Fisher and Miller-for the impossibility of settling this territory with six thousand colonists in the stipulated time had become evident, as the end of 1847 completed the period allowed them for this purpose. It was indeed unfortunate for the Germans that they could not push their settlements far enough northward, as their failure threw into the hands of the Americans the fertile country which they had contemplated making the Germanic centre of Texas.

Meusebach had sent in his resignation to the society on several different occasions, but they had always refused to consider it and insisted on his keeping his office. Now he needed more means, and this seemed likely to lead to further unpleasantness. He reminded the society that