DUANE
Duane's take
Here's my telling of what the official marker has to say about this stretch of the Nueces River country. Now, some places earn their legends the hard way — not by thriving, but by trying. And trying again.
And trying one more time after that. This is the story of Nuestra Señora de la Candelaria Mission, the third mission in Texas to carry that name, and every one of those three tries has a lesson buried in it. The first Candelaria was established in 1749 on the San Gabriel River — Franciscan missionaries, a grand purpose, the conversion of the Indians and the protection of Spanish lands.
That's what the charter said, anyway. What actually happened was friction. Friction between friars and soldiers, the kind of slow-burning disagreement that doesn't announce itself all at once but eventually burns the whole enterprise down.
By 1755, that first Candelaria was abandoned. So they moved it. That's what you do when something isn't working — you move it closer to civilization, closer to support, closer to the hope that this time it'll take root.
The mission relocated to the San Marcos River. But here's the thing the friars discovered, and it must have been a humbling thing to reckon with: the Indians living near that second Candelaria were a good deal more interested in protection than in Christianity. Can't say that's entirely surprising, given what was prowling the Texas frontier in those years.
By 1757, the mission was discontinued again. Now, most institutions would have called it done after two failures. But in 1762, Candelaria was re-established — here, on the Nueces River, a third time, a third chance.
And there was real momentum at first. About a hundred Lipan-Apaches volunteered — volunteered — to live within its walls. A chapel went up.
A large thatched building. A house. Possibly other structures too.
There was something there, for a moment. Then the difficulties came, and they came from every direction. Scarcity of meat.
Unrest and insincerity among the mission Indians. Inadequate defense. And then the raids — devastating raids by Comanches and Apaches — the kind of raids that don't leave you wondering whether you can hold on.
They leave you knowing you can't. About 1767, Candelaria was abandoned for the last time. Three missions.
Three attempts. All of them carrying the same name, and none of them carrying it very far into the future. And here's the quiet coda to the whole story: the smooth building stones that the friars and those hundred Lipan-Apaches worked to stack up — Anglo settlers in the 1800s came along and took them.
Hauled them off to build their own houses. So what little remained of Candelaria got folded, stone by stone, into somebody else's walls. The mission didn't survive.
But in a strange way, it never entirely disappeared either.
What the marker says
Third mission under this name founded in Texas. Established near here on the Nueces River in 1762 by Franciscan missionaries for the conversion of the Indians and protection of Spanish lands. Typical of many Spanish missions in Texas, Candelaria had twice moved closer to centers of civilization since its first founding in 1749 on the San Gabriel River. Beset with friction between friars and soldiers, the first Candelaria was abandoned in 1755 and then moved to the San Marcos River. Soon, however, the friars found that the Indians were more concerned with protection than with Christianity. In 1757 the mission was again discontinued. In 1762 Candelaria was re-established here, and about 100 Lipan-Apaches quickly volunteered to live within its walls. A chapel, large thatched building, a house, and possibly other structures were erected. But once more, difficulties arose-- scarcity of meat, unrest and insincerity among the mission Indians, inadequate defense, devastating raids by Comanches and Apaches. About 1767 the mission was abandoned for the last time. Little remains of it today, for the smooth building stones were taken by Anglo settlers in the 1800s to build their houses.