Old Man Mullins


Frank Mullins appeared in Menard in 1913 with $15,000 to invest. With $6,000 the 43 year old bought what was thought to be the oldest house in town, a log cabin believed to have been built in the 1860’s. The cabin was on a seven acre plot of land a block away from downtime. The land had been used for parking wagons brought to town by the area ranchers.

Instead of developing the land near the growing town, he developed a case of gold fever and dug holes in it. He never had a map, instead he would dig holes wherever his fancy led him. They were four feet deep and each day a new hole was made.

It once occurred to him that there might be something under the cabin, so he removed the floors and dug, then removed the cabin entirely. Thus was the oldest building in Menard lost.


After seventeen years of apparently fruitless searches he actually found something, a jar of coins. In pioneer days banks were few and far between and people often buried their life savings in glass jars somewhere out of sight, maybe under the second fence post to the right of the barn—something like that. If they died unexpectedly then the coins stayed there. The jar of coins was worth $2,000. It was enough to keep him going for the next fifteen years.

Old Man Mullins passed away in 1945, his $15,000 investment yielded one very dug up plot of land and $2,000. Compared to other treasure hunters in the area he did well.

The San Saba Mine in Fiction

I am aware to three fictional stories about the San Saba legends, that is, stories that concede that they are only stories.

The first San Saba-ish story from the Texas Hill Country is popularly reckoned to be Burred Treasure, a short story O. Henry wrote in 1908.    He may have pondered the local treasure stories while he was living in Austin, Texas in the 1880’s.  It did not mention the San Saba treasure by name, but had elements common with the San Saba stories: a man writing down the directions to ten mule load of Spanish treasure in the 1860’s, for a twentieth century treasure hunter to pursue.

The earliest story that refers to the San Saba mine by name is The Red Paper, by C.C. Hotchkiss, a 1912 novel.  No meaningful information on the legend (it actually put it some distance away from Menard and had the Texans covering it up), but it shows how wide-spread the legend was in pre-WWI America.

More recently is The Bowie Secret, by Bob Balch, a 2013 novel that goes from Jim Bowie up to the present.  A work of fiction, but included some real people and places from around Menard.  Some of the same people I met with a couple of years later.  Mr. Balch is a Texas attorney and his take on how messy things could be, legally, if someone ever found a stash of silver is enlightening.

Of course, there are many books out there that are de facto works of fiction, and some of them have influenced the folk lore and legend concerning the story.  Most of the books about Jim Bowie are, frankly, works of fiction where an ounce of history, if even that, was spun into a pound of book.  Jim Bowie’s Lost Mine by M.E. Francis (1966) is a prime example.

Will finish this post with a cartoon from 1945.  J. R. Williams was a popular cartoonist in his day.  He drew cartoons about his experiences, from being in the cavalry to working in a machine shop.  The cartoon below shows how wide-spread the San Saba legend was in those days.


The San Saba Mission: Lost and Found, then Lost and Found Again

The San Saba presidio (at Menard, TX) is oftentimes mistaken for the San Saba mission. They are separate compounds, more than a mile apart. When the mission was established in 1756 the missionaries wanted the mission to be a good distance away from the fort (the presidio).  One might ask how a presidio with 100 Spanish troops was to protect a mission if it was not even in sight of the mission.  The answer is not very well.  The reason for the distance had to do with a disastrous experience with a Texas mission a few years earlier where the  presidio captain was anything but a good example for the newly Christianized Indians.  In fact the captain was excommunicated by the mission priest, then the captain had the priest murdered.  The mission Indians had enough and melted away.  A previously successful mission failed.

With this new mission the presidio was placed out of sight, on the other side (the north side) of the San Saba River.  After various northern tribes (mainly the Comanche) destroyed the mission in 1857 the presidio, that survived the attack, was rebuilt into a stone fortress.  It had no mission to protect, and instead of moving the command to the east to protect the fledgling Los Almagres mines, it stayed where it was to defy the northern tribes.

The stone fortress was occupied for several years but abandoned in the later 1700’s.  It remained for years, and was then mostly dismantled and used for building materials by the new town of Menardville (that later became Menard).  The large fort took a long time to even partly dismantle and there is no doubt where it was located.  Around 1937 a public work’s project mostly rebuilt it, but it was not rebuilt very well, or according to sketches that exist from the colonial era.  It began to crumble.  Much more recently it has undergone a better restoration and the original outline of the building has been reestablished.

While there was never any doubt as to where the fort was, where was the mission?  It seemed to be a case of everyone knew, everyone lost interest, then no one knew and wished they did.  Several archaeologists had a go at locating it, but without any success.  It was supposed to be one and a half leagues away from the fort, but just how long is a league? It was more a measure of how far one could travel in an hour–in an era of sun dials.  The location was lost, perhaps forever.  The old timers saw traces of it before the turn of the century, but no one thought to ask them before they passed on.

One of the reasons for the renewed interest in the mission was the book The San Saba Mission, that was printed in 1964.  It was printed by a person who has much to do, by what he did not do, with the treasure legend.  It was written by the local newspaper editor, a man named Robert Weddle.

Weddle was interested in Texas history–he more interested in history writing than in newspaper editing.  He wrote the aforementioned book and it put him on the map in Texas academia.  He went on to become a respected writer of Texas history.  He passed on a couple of years ago.  His 1964 book did much to popularize the San Saba mission and presidio.

What he did not want to popularize were the the San Saba treasure legends.  From reading many of his newspapers of that era, he had nothing but scorn and ridicule for the treasure legends.  Part of that could have been altruistic.  People were selling mining stocks and none of it ever paid off.  Every reader he dissuaded from the silver lode lottery was another reader who did not throw their money away.

But part of his disdain for the legends could have been that he was trying, really hard, to become a historian.  A small town newsman talking about Jim Bowie and stacks of silver bars would not be taken seriously.  So, perhaps, that has something to do with his newspaper not reporting on any of the treasure hunting goings-on in Menard in the 1960’s.

He may have, perhaps, realized that he had gone too far later in life.  While in the 1960’s he wrote that “tradition, and nothing else” claimed that Jim Bowie was after silver when he made an expedition to somewhere in the area in 1831, the reality was that Rezin Bowie and Caiaphas Ham both stated in unmistakable terms that they were indeed after a silver mine they thought was in the area.  Weddle, well, basically wrote a lie when he wrote those words.  Perhaps he thought it was a white lie.  Well, in what was probably the last academic paper he authored (co-wrote actually) he wrote about historical myths.  He mentioned the myth of silver mines around Menard, but added something curious in a foot note.  He wrote that when he first arrived in Menard that he found a chunk of slag near the old presidio.  Slag is a by-product of silver smelting.  He sent a sample of the slag off to UTEP.  The report came back that the slag contained silver.  For slag to contain silver the ore that was smelted must have contained even more silver.  Perhaps that foot note was a way to make amends for stretching the truth about Bowie, and for a complete press blackout of the very interesting goings on around Menard decades earlier.

Another newspaper editor is part of the story.  John Warren Hunter.  He was a fascinating individual, the sort that were rarely born after 1900.  He was an uneducated youth, a cowboy, who caught the  attention of a young lady back east.  The young lady resolved to civilize the young man and marry him.  So she did.  He took to learning what his educated wife was teaching very well.  He learned so well that he became a school master.  One school he mastered was in Menardville before the turn of the century.  Then he became a newspaper editor in the nearby town of Mason.  In the very early 1900’s the Texas Rangers were having a reunion in Menardville.  Hunter printed up a little souvenir booklet for them titled The Rise and Fall of the Mission San Saba.  The booklet was one part history of the area, one part treasure legend (Hunter held that Los Almagres was a real mine and that it was somewhere around Menardville), and one part biography of interesting early settlers to Menard County.

A couple and a half decades later J. Frank Dobie leaned heavily on the booklet when he wrote the San Saba legend part of Coronado’s Children.  Hunter had spent time in Mexico and could read and write Spanish (during the civil war he refused to join the confederacy and he lived in Mexico for the duration).  While in Monclova he heard tale of silver mines around the San Saba River.  He thought there was a mine, or perhaps mines, in the area, but he did not know just where they were and apparently expended no effort in finding out.

Weddle thought that Hunter’s book was anything but real history.  But years later someone saw something in that little book that probably made Weddle wish that he had read it more closely.  In the early 1990’s a San Antonio architect named Mark Wolf discovered that he was related to one of the soldiers stationed at the presido.  Mark took an interest in the story.  He asked an archaeologist to show him the mission site, where his relative saved many lives during the massacre.  The reply was that no one knew where it was for sure.

Mark developed a strong interest in the history.  He happened upon a yellowed old booklet, The Rise and Fall of The Mission San Saba.  Hunter wrote that the mission site was known to the locals and that artifacts could still be collected there.  It was on the “old Hockensmith place”.  Mark inquired with the county office as to what property had ever been owned by someone named Hockensmith.  There was only one such property–on the south side of the river, a distance from the presidio.  Long story short, that property was the place.  It just so happened that the field had been plowed for alfalfa, and sure enough Mark and some archaeologists he was with that day found one artifact, then another, then another, in the freshly turned soil.  A proper field study held by Texas Tech confirmed beyond a doubt that the mission site, lost when the first generation of Menardville residents passed on, was now found.  It is on private property, but there is a marker nearby.

The irony was that Bob Weddle could have found that site himself, and become a hero to academia, when he was living in Menard and writing his book about that mission in the early 1960’s.  It goes to show that one should never be too proud to read even tacky little booklets when researching history.

McFadden’s Treasure

In the book The Free State of Menard, printed in the 1940’s, Wenonah was quoted as saying “Mr. McFadden, the publisher, asked me some years ago to write a story for his magazine on what I had accomplished because of sheer determination to succeed. But I told him I was too busy to write it.” Wenonah, AKA Martha Learn, was a very unique lady from San Antonio who lived next to the San Saba mine site from 1929 or 1930 until her death in 1943. Judging by a sample of her writing, when she wrote a poem promoting war-bonds for the local paper, she was a perfectly capable writer.

But who was McFadden? Brenarr McFadden (1868 – 1955) was one of those people who are relatively unknown today, despite exerting a tremendous influence on the twentieth century. He was first and foremost a heath enthusiast. He himself was a sickly child with failing eyesight and he resolved to become healthy. So he did.

As work began to move to offices, people began to suffer from inactivity and poor diet. McFadden was Johnny on the spot with programs of exercise and diet. Some of his ideas were a little odd, but most of them have stood the test of time. He was actually ahead of his time in many ways. He was really the first body builder and without him perhaps there would have been no Charles Atlas, or Arnold Schwarzenegger. At first he published books, including an encyclopedia on health. He later began printing a magazine named Physical Culture. One feature in that magazine was stories from readers who followed his programs to good health. Those stories were a hit. Stories from the common man had never been printed before—it was entirely a new concept. Readers liked hearing interesting stories from their neighbors, people just like themselves. He took that concept and branched out into printing reader-submitted stories, worked over by his editors, that were not related to health.

Those magazines created an empire, with magazines like True Stories that had its start in 1919. Later on True Detective and True Romance were added. The stories were sensationalized and sometimes on the risqué side. He built up a publishing empire that had a profound influence. One of the editors of Reader’s Digest had his start with McFadden’s magazines. A story of how a poor little German girl from San Antonio became a fearless snake charmer, and then ran a thriving rattlesnake business, would have made a great story. It is unfortunate that she passed up the opportunity.

While he was a visionary on matters of health and publishing, he had no head for finance. He made lots of money, and he spent lots of money. He did not understand that a business owner could not sell company stock and then use the company bank account for various personal projects. He built health spas, tried running for office, attempted to start his own religion that combined the Bible with health food and exercise, and went through a string of wives who all demanded alimony. He was often threatened with bankruptcy and lawsuits.

The story is that when he was facing court problems he placed large sums of cash, millions of dollars, in old cartridge boxes and buried them on various properties that he owned. Such cash hordes would escape plaintiffs, regardless of the court outcomes. And, indeed, in 1960 someone found an old cartridge box on McFadden’s old estate on Long Island. They claimed to have found $89,000 in it.

So while Wenonah was looking for buried treasure out west, McFadden may have been burying treasure on his properties back east. The real treasure would have been a biography of Wenonah’s life, and that was right in front of them both.

For more information on Brenarr McFadden click here.

Wenonah, 1926

A prior entry showed a picture of Wenonah, AKA Martha Learn, from around 1920 and during her vaudeville days around 1912.  Wenonah was one of the most colorful characters to look for the treasure, living near the mine site from 1929 or 1930 to 1943. She spent her last days living, when she was sick with cancer, in the Bevans hotel in Menard.  While at the Bevans hotel, to try to cover expenses, she pawned her Indian artifacts and the supposed McCaslin artifacts (a knife and a bridle), to a Mr. Volkman, who had an office in the hotel.  McCaslin was one of Bowie’s men who were killed in the 1831 expedition to find the mine. It is unknown what Mr. Volkman did with the items. Supposedly, the rifle barrel found near the grave ended up in San Angelo, Texas.

Here is a photo of her from 1926.  She was still running her snake business / pet store in San Antonio.  By this time the process of creating anti-venom for snake bite was taking hold and Martha was one of the first people in America to provide snake venom for that process.  She even obtained poisonous snakes from the Eastern US so she could milk venom from them too.

Three or four years later she was living in a tin shack next to the mine site.


J. Frank Dobie’s Coronado’s Children

The book that recorded, and in part formed, the modern legend of the San Saba treasure was J. Frank Dobie’s Coronado’s Children.  It was published in 1930.  Google Books has a preview of the San Saba related section, including the Broken Metate story: Coronado’s Children.  Worth reading by anyone with an interest in the story.

Dobie was the premier Texas folklorist of his generation.  He spent time at UT Austin as an English professor.  It took more than skill as a writer to write folklore.  One had to have a ready source of folklore, and Dobie was skilled at finding people who had stories to tell and were willing to tell them.

The Broken Metate story was unique in many ways, and was really the best story of all the San Saba tales.   It had a great back story that reached back into the 1700’s and it stretched all the way to the present: digging was ongoing when the book went to press.  It was also incredibly unique in that the location of the alleged mine was not lost.  The only mystery was how exactly to find the horde of silver bars inside the old mine.  That separated the legend from many other treasure tales and placed it into an exclusive group of tales where the basic treasure site is firmly established.  Oak Island comes to mind.  As per the tale, one knows, as per extremely unique geological features, when one is within about 50 yards of the treasure.  It is those last 50 yards that bedeviled treasure hunters for more than a century.

There is a map in Dobie’s tale and the basic directions down the river and up the creek to get to the cave are correct.  However, Dobie simplified the story from there.  He did not really invent anything out of thin air, but he left out several important details.  It is certain that he knew those details as they were in his notes.  What he included and left out, and what the person who told the tale to Dobie had to say are an interesting glimpse into a folklorist who not only recorded folklore but, in the end, moved the legend along and added to it.  Peoples’ lives were changed because of what Dobie wrote.

Nearly every book written about the San Saba Treasure since 1930 (in regards to The Broken Metate / Silver Creek) merely copied Dobie.  C.K. Eckhardt seemed to take Dobie’s story and turn one sentence of Dobie into three sentences of Eckhardt.  In the legend back-story Dobie wrote that Major Dixon went to a church in Monclova, Mexico to look for records about mines around the San Saba.  Eckhardrt took that sentence, fertilized it, and and came up with Major Dixon visiting the “great cathedral” in Moncolva.  Only, there was no great cathedral in Monclova in that era, none great and none small.  There was no cathedral at all.  And that is a clue–why would records of colonial era mines be stored at an ordinary parish church?


Academia and the San Saba Legends

There are only a few recent scholarly treatments of the San Saba Legends or events related to them.  Those being The Archaeology and History of Spanish Colonial Mining Efforts in Central Texas  by Nancy Mayo (Masters Thesis, Texas Tech 1995), and Ruin of ruins: (re)building myth and memory in Menard, TX by David Weir (Masters Thesis, Texas Tech 2004).

Nancy’s paper has to do with the rumors of silver on the San Saba and the mines at Los Amalgres.  It is a long, generally well-researched paper with a good number of archaeological  investigations.  She accepts, uncritically, the Bowie / Tresmanos tale (where Bowie was adopted into a tribe of Apaches to learn the secret of their silver).  And she worked off of the same old translation of the Miranda documents that historians had used since the beginning.  The more recent translations made at the direction of James Stotts were better and would have been of benefit to Nancy.  Otherwise an interesting paper for anyone interested in colonial era mining efforts.

David’s paper is mainly about how the townspeople of of Menard and the Apaches have approached, or created, the legends around Jim Bowie. In 2004 the “deconstruction” movement on campuses was in high gear.  As usual in such papers, more is learned about the biases of the author than of the history in question.  The cultural connection that some Apaches have with the Presidio was interesting, but the author leaves unquestioned how much of the oral history of the Apaches was handed down from their elders and how much, if any, of it was appropriated from books like Dobie’s Coronado’s Children. Instead of asking hard questions about the legend of Bowie living with the Apaches, he had to take it on faith as fact as he could not question recent Apache folklore.  But he could disparage Menard’s connection to Bowie.  In the end, such papers tend to say more about their authors than their subjects.

A few decades earlier Duane Hale, now a history professor at Cisco College, wrote two papers.  For his Masters thesis at Abilene Christian University in 1972 he wrote Evidence of Mining in the Big Country of Texas.  Five years later at Oklahoma State University he wrote Prospecting and Mining on the Texas Frontier.  These papers are not available on-line, and short of finding them in a university library they may be hard to fine.  But, some of the material from those papers made it into a multi-part series of articles that showed up in Treasure magazine in 1991.  Back issues of those magazines are still available if anyone is interested in them.



Silver Mines in Texas

There were real silver mines in Texas.  On the west side of the state there was the Shafter mine district and the Van Horn area.  Those were honest silver mining areas that produced much silver.   There was also at least some mining, on a much smaller scale, at Los Amalgres, off and on in secret.  Menard and San Antonio are on the map for reference.


The Shafter mines were the most important, with 90% of the silver and 70% of the gold ever mined in Texas coming from there.  One can read about them here.  One of the mines in the Shafter mine district even reopened  briefly a few years ago when silver prices spiked, but a drop in prices closed it.  Hopefully it will reopen some day.

The Van Horn mines were smaller and not as productive as the Shafter mines.  Work there ceased during WWII.


The next map shows some of the geological features of the state.  The igneous areas are pockets of ancient volcanic activity amongst what is otherwise a sea of sedimentary rock. Those areas line up very well with the silver mines.  The one to the east is known as the Llano Uplift.  Around these areas it sometimes happened that volcanic activity pushed out into sedimentary areas, even into the usually barren limestone, and left behind minerals.  Even gold and silver sometimes.


Geologists call it replacement when igneous rock protrudes into something like limestone.  However, it appears that those replacements do not reach out scores of miles. For silver, or gold, to have made it to near the old Spanish fort on the San Saba in present day Menard, it would have had to have reached out a few score miles.

There are traces of silver in sandstone about ten miles to the east of Menard.  There have been claims that at least trace silver and gold was recovered from bore samples from around Menard, but it seems that whatever has been found, no one found it worthwhile enough to sink a proper mine.

Regarding the area around Los Amalgres, there were other mines in the Llano Uplift area as well.  One well known mine was the Heath mine, which mined at least some gold. There is a good write up on it here.  There is some question as to what portion of the revenue was from gold, and how much was from the sale of stock.  The owners seemed to have the art of finding investors down to a science.  It closed during WWII.



Texas geology and random prospecting

In the 1840’s a geologist in a group of incoming German settlers to the Texas hill country noted that, despite rumors of silver around the San Saba River, the area was limestone and minerals in limestone would be unprecedented.  In more recent times people have looked around and noted that it was a limestone area, and that was that–any prospecting for minerals was a fool’s errand.

Limestone is a type of sedimentary rock, in particular the geological remains of ancient ocean beds. Over time the calcium-rich coral and such formed limestone.  Silver, gold, and that sort of thing is not to be found in limestone.  Limestone is good for making gravel, cooking into quicklime for cement, cooking into lime to adjust the acidity of farm land , and for a few other things.  And that is about it–a bulk commodity.  As a child growing up in south-east New Mexico, I was disappointed to learn that our corner of the state was atop this miserly substance called limestone.  That meant that no rocks on the few acres the family owned were of any value.  All those interesting rocks in the Golden Guide to Rocks and Minerals were no where to be found, and no gold nuggets waited to be dug up from the back yard either.  Although, since digging through the caliche under the few inches of top soil there was about like digging through a brick wall, opening a back yard mine would have been challenging anyway.

The consolation prize that goes with mineral barren limestone areas are caves.   Over many centuries water can turn a bed of limestone into a cavern.  Treasures of their own sort that people can enjoy.  And there are a couple of limestone caves around Menard that figure into the treasure story.

But back to the 1840’s, the German geologist did not say that minerals in limestone was impossible, rather he said that it would be unprecedented.  Sometimes unprecedented things happen–more about that in a later article.

If, in centuries past, limestone meant no minerals, would anyone in the Spanish Colonial era have bothered to prospect in the immediate area?  The answer is yes.

There is silver in Texas, and Texas used to have active silver mines, albeit not from around Menard.  But it was and is a drop in the bucket compared to the silver in Mexico. The silver mines in Mexico were not a dozen people digging out some ore from a fifty foot hole in the ground, to then smelt in a large outdoor oven.  In Mexico mines used thousands of workers and the refineries were complexes covering dozens of acres. Most refineries ended up using the mercury patio process, while others used the charcoal furnace process when the cost of mercury was greater than the gain from the increased recovery of silver.

In the 1700’s the miners in Mexico had a quota of so many bags of ore per day.  Then they could fill a bag or two for themselves.  They would then take their own bags of ore to an independent refiner for extra income.  If a person knew what they were doing it did not take much to set up a crude smelter in a small area.  The mine owners did not like that. They complained that the choice, high grade, ore went into the bags of the miners.  The miners complained that they were poorly paid for the hard and dangerous work they did.  In such circumstances workers start complaining, and the complaining spreads, and words turn to actions. That was good for neither the wealthy mine owners nor the tax revenue of the Spanish crown.

There was a way to deal with labor agitators: send them to Texas to be Presidio soldiers.   That would get them out of Mexico, away from the mines, for years.  Not all soldiers were ex-miners, but some were.   They were not trained geologists.  It is not at all condescending to suspect that they did not know the difference between sedimentary rock and igneous rock and any other kind of rock.  Most people today could not tell the difference either.  To them rock was just something to dig through to find ore.

Presidio commanders were notorious for getting rich off of the Spanish Crown while the soldiers were given low wages.  The soldiers were not paid by the Crown, rather the commander was.  The wages to the soldiers were not even real wages, but script to the company store.  A store owned by the commander.  Soldiers often served beyond the normal retirement age of soldiers because they  could not pay off their debts to the commander.  It seems reasonable that they would spend their free time prospecting. Finding a rich mine might be the ticket to paying off their debts and retiring, maybe even retiring well.  And they knew how to dig holes in the ground.  They did not know that limestone was supposed to be a fool’s errand.  So they probably dug holes here and there as they could, preferably within running distance of the Presidio lest the Comanche turn up and turn the exploratory shaft into a mass grave.

So it seems likely that a number of randomly placed exploratory shafts would have been sunk in a several mile radius around the Presidio on the San Saba River.  In more recent times they have possibly been found by treasure hunters who took them to surely be the remains of rich mines that were abandoned after Indian massacres. Could be, or could be soldiers who desperately wanted to find a vein of silver that would be their ticket to an easy life back in Mexico.  Apparently one such hole was found not that many decades ago near the Menard water tower.  Perhaps Gooch’s Folly was another.

There are many old newspaper articles about someone in Menard County who found a hole on their land, and was just sure that was the mine.  Then nothing more came of it. At first I suspected that they were all part of schemes to sell mining stock. But perhaps they were more often the honest discovery of a somewhat random exploratory shaft that miners-turned-soldiers hoped would be their ticket back to Mexico a century and a half earlier.

Review of C.K. Eckhardt’s The Lost San Saba Mines

There was a book written in 1982 by C. K. “Charlie” Eckhardt titled The Lost San Saba Mines, One Man’s Search for the Ancient Treasure in the Hills of Texas.  It was apparently widely printed by Texas Monthly Press and is readily available used.  Seeing as how there was a book printed on this subject, why write a new one?

First, a little about Eckhardt himself.  He ran a barber shop in Seguin, Texas.  Out of his unending interest in Texas history he wrote a newspaper column on Texas tales and also wrote several books on Texas history and folklore. Treasure stories fascinated him just as they do many other people.  He personally knew the grandson of one of Jim Bowie’s men who were at the epic battle in 1831 when Bowie attempted to locate the mine.

It was anything but a scholarly work, and it was not supposed to be one.  There are no citations and J. Frank Dobie’s Coronado’s Children was listed as a “primary source”. Dobie’s book was, most of it, second or third hand folklore and was not a primary source in the academic sense.  It is not meant to look down on Eckhardt’s book by referring to it as mostly folklore.  He recorded a few new stories that he heard, and it is a good thing that someone recorded them least they be lost forever.  It was a book for a wide audience and good stories were what that audience wanted.

Eckhardt correctly points out that there are two major San Saba legends, that of  Los Amalgres and that of the Broken Metate / Silver Creek.  Regarding Los Amalgres, he placed those mines, correctly in my opinion, in the Llano County area (others claim that Los Amalgres and Silver Creek are one in the same).  He followed up the Los Amalgres story with a tale about Harp Perry, supposedly an Anglo who came to Texas when it was Mexican territory and illegally mined and refined silver.  The Harp Perry story was in Coronado’s Children, but Eckhardt added to it and included a surprise ending.

The story about Harp Perry was interesting.  But regarding Los Amalgres in general, information has come to light since the book was written.  On James Stotts’s Llano County ranch some old Spanish Colonial era mines were found after brush was cleared several years ago.  One can read about it here and here.  Those may well be the Los Amalgres mines. James Stotts took an interest in the history of them and did some research.  That research included arranging for a painstaking professional translation of the Miranda papers (the colonial-era reports of a Spanish official who was sent to find and report on silver deposits in that area–Eckhardt included earlier translations of them in his book).  That new translation cleared up some confusion about the reports, and changes the story, in my opinion.  That translation and other materials were in a book that Stotts wrote.  A year or two ago one could buy that paperback book, The Los Almagres Mines: Lost in Texas 250 Years, from his ranch’s website, but the site appears not to be operating now. Could try a used book store.   I prefer Barnes and Noble for used books these days (have had some recent bad experiences with used book sellers on Amazon, not so with Barnes and Noble and the prices seem to be the same).  The point is, what Eckhardt wrote about Los Amalgres is somewhat out of date and there are better books on that subject out there.

The portion of the book about Silver Creek (the main legend of interest around Menard) is disappointing.  Like many other writers he mostly copied what J. Frank Dobie wrote in Coronado’s Children.  He wrote that he heard stories from a Menard local about Wenonah, and those stories seem to align very well with the book The Free State of Menard, a book written in 1946.  The local may have done little more than read that book.

Regarding Silver Creek he got as much wrong as right.  He wrote that Wenonah was buried near the mine–she was not.  He wrote that Norton died in 1948–he did not.  He wrote that the San Marcos men went to Silver Creek in 1866–they did not.  He gives the impression that he was at the mine site at Silver Creek.  But even to me, someone who only spent a few hours at the site, he simply got too many details wrong.  The area was protected by armed guards in those days, and apparently he could not get past them.  A person I spoke with, who has spent as much time as anyone at the site, did not think much of Eckhardt’s book at it related to Silver Creek.

On the history of the mission on the San Saba he apparently wrote about the stories he heard or assumed, and not about the established history of the mission.  By 1982 The San Saba Papers were in print as was The San Saba Mission by Robert Weddle and those sources contradict Eckhardt over and over again.  The bottom line is that what ever he  added to Dobie’s story was incorrect.  And Dobie’s story was not all correct to begin with.

Eckhardt’s book is valuable in its description of mining stock sold in Texas in the olden days.  Those colorful, pretty, but worthless, mining stocks were eventually relegated to out-house duty.  The selling of shares in mining or treasure projects figured into the development of treasure legends.  Some of the legends may have come about from stock sellers attempting to gain investors.  It also made treasure legend evangelists of the stock buyers, at least for a little while.

The book makes a lot of Matthew Doyal’s grandson, whom Eckhardt knew.  Matthew Doyal (or sometimes Doyle) was one of Bowie’s men when he searched for the mine in 1831.  The grandson told a unique story about the Bowie mine, or more accurately the lack thereof.  There is, however a good cause to discount that testimony entirely for a reason probably unknown to Eckhardt through no fault of his own.

Overall, it is an entertaining book with some good stories.  If one liked reading Coronoado’s Children one will like this book as well.  Reading it is  like being the fly on the wall in Charlie’s barbershop when an old timer came in for his yearly hair cut and a good story got started about what so-and-so claimed about a lost mine out that way.  The book has been out of print for years, but used copies are still available on-line for not much money.  As opposed to attempting to sort out the history from the legend, it goes over the legend and adds more too it. Nothing at all wrong with that.  The book I have in the works is focused foremost on the history behind the legends, and then on the folklore and legends.


By the way, anyone from the southwest who sees the cover of Eckhartdt’s book will immediately note a silly mistake: it shows a Texas cowboy in front of some saguaro cactus.  We who grew up in the desert can usually tell where a picture was taken from the type of brush and cactus in the image. And a saguaro cactus east of the Arizona state line is a howler.  But in his defense, according to newspaper article at the time, Eckhardt did not see the cover until after the book went to press and it was too late to do anything about it.