DUANE
Duane's take
Here's my telling of what the official marker has to say about this place — and friend, it is quite a tale. Two outposts of Spain rose near here in 1756, founded to guard against French encroachment from the east. Their names alone sound like something from a dream — Mission Nuestra Señora de la Luz del Orcoquisac, Our Lady of the Light, and its auxiliary fort, Presidio San Agustín de Ahumada.
Grand names. Ambitious names. Names that did not quite match what awaited the people sent to fill them.
The marker calls these two places, without hesitation, some of the most misfortune-ridden outposts of Spain in all of Texas. That's the marker's own words. Misfortune-ridden.
And it earns every syllable of that description. Thirty soldiers arrived to man the fort, and two friars followed shortly after to minister to the Orcoquisac tribe. Now, you might think that's a modest enough beginning — a fort, a mission, a congregation to build.
But almost immediately, the elder friar died. Just like that, gone. The younger one, left alone out there near a lake described as thick and stinking with water, asked to be relieved of his duties.
And he didn't go quietly. He complained — vividly, says the marker — of biting insects, of brutal heat and cold that swung between extremes, and of that lake. That lonely, awful lake.
You almost can't blame the man. Then there were the fifty families who were supposed to arrive and establish a proper town at the site. They never came.
Never. So there was no town, just the mission and the fort and the soldiers growing restless. And restless soldiers with meager supplies of food, clothing, and ammunition — well, that was the rule out here, not the exception.
Some commanders treated their men with great cruelty, and that woeful lack of training among the soldiers sparked unrest among the Indians the mission was meant to serve. By 1767, an official inspector had seen enough. He reported that due to the terrain, the discord among the staff, and the failure to convert the Indians, both the presidio and the mission should simply be closed.
Then came 1771, and with it a fear of Apache invasion, and the authorities made their decision — they withdrew the personnel entirely. Our Lady of the Light and her fort were totally abandoned. Not reorganized, not reinforced — abandoned.
Two outposts built with grand purpose, swallowed up by insects and bad water and distance and human failing. Out here in Chambers County, the land kept every secret they left behind.
What the marker says
Two of the most misfortune-ridden outposts of Spain in texas, "Our Lady of the Light" mission and its auxiliary fort, were founded near here in 1756 to guard against French encroachment from the east. The two friars who were to minister to members of the Orcoquisac tribe arrived shortly after the 30 soldiers who were to man the fort. Soon, however, the elder friar died. The younger, asking to be relieved of his duties, complained vividly of biting insects, extremes of heat and cold, and the thick and stinking water in the lake near the lonely mission. The 50 families who were to establish a town at the site never arrived, and although valiant efforts were made at improvement, conditions instead became worse. A woeful lack of training among the soldiers sparked unrest among the Indians. Meager supplies of food, clothing, and ammunition were the rule, and some commanders treated their men with great cruelty. In 1767, an official inspector reported that due to the terrain, discord among the staff, and failure to convert the Indians, the presidio and mission should be closed. In 1771, fearing an invasion of Apaches, the authorities withdrew the personnel, and these two remote outposts of Spain were totally abandoned.