Altdorf's Biergarten and Old Saint Mary's Church

Texas Forts Trail

It is a good day — a perfect day to begin our mini-tour of Texas history via the Forts Trail — a six-hundred-and-fifty mile trail of ruins and reconstruction and remembrance of things past. It seems all countries and states we visit have specific ruins and reconstructions. In Spain, it is castles, and in England, it is cathedrals and monasteries; in Italy it is palazzos and everything Roman — in the US it is a hodgepodge of of each state’s history. In Texas, it is forts and missions. As kids, growing up in San Antonio, we thought old Spanish missions were the only ruins that existed. However, during our varied travels Michael and I have toured a lot of ruins and reconstructions. We have become students of history, and are seemingly addicted.

The two of us have been on this trail before, but that was twenty years ago, and things do change. We were in a hurry back then — an impromptu picnic jaunt — no dawdling allowed. During this mini-adventure, we will visit the southern portion of the trail, from Fort Mason, in Mason, Texas, to Fort Chadbourne in Bronte. And this time, dawdling is OK. The longer, the better.

And because we have the time, and because we love German food, our adventure begins with lunch.

Altdorf’s Biergarten in Fredericksburg

Michael and I sit at the edge of the sunny alfresco dining area, lift our glasses full of German bier and toast our new adventure. “It really does feel like we are in another country,” he says, referring to the cool weather and the German feel of our surroundings in Fredericksburg. We both agree that we could be in England or California, not Texas. There are a myriad individuals with multiple leashes holding on to various breeds of man’s best friend. Years back, in the state of Texas, dogs anywhere near a restaurant were verboten — not anymore.

Suddenly the twang of a few guitar chords and the throaty voice of C&W troubadour, Danny White, begins, “Let’s go to Luckenbach, Texas with Waylon and Willie and the boys…” reminding us we are in fact deep in the heart of German Texas, sitting at a table in Altdorf’s biergarten,

Our mood is ebullient as our server delivers our twin orders of zwiebelschintzel. Thin slices of crisply crusted pork blanketed with onion and bacon gravy, sweet and sour red cabbage, and tangy warm German potato salad cover our plates. We hurriedly dig in.

Saint Mary’s German Catholic Church

With not a crumb left on our plates or a drop of beer left in our glass, we push ourselves away from the table and set our sights on exploring the original old German Catholic church that casts its large shadow over the surrounding area. Saint Mary’s was the first German Catholic church built in Fredericksburg. Constructed in 1847, it was the Adelsverein, the German Society of Noblemen, who were responsible for the existence of this edifice.

Originally a log house-style church, in 1862, they began building the native stone house of worship that now stands. After the Civil War, additional immigrants of German Catholics came to Fredericksburg. As a result, by the turn of the century, the need for a larger church became an obvious solution. Today, if you look at the website for Saint Mary’s parish, there is hardly a mention of the stately old edifice where a Native American Indian was asked to ring the church’s bell for the first time. Instead, it is all about the elegant sister church—the primary place of worship.

Old Saint Mary’s

Today the steeples of two churches rise side by side, both called Saint Mary’s, both part of the same parish. Entirely different in their architecture and style, I have always preferred the warmth and simplicity of the original building. It is solid. Stalwart. It looks like its German origin. Its sister church, built in the Gothic style, looks like the big sister dressed for a ball.

We sit for a while, contemplating the two edifices — our backs to the new church. Our attention is focused on the older sister. They are both lovely, but my heart still resides with the old.

The front door is open, and we step inside. The simplicity of white on white with only the warmth of wood breaking the rhythm of all this whiteness is almost startling. It is so different from every other Catholic Church I have ever seen.

Statues don’t soar in niches but melt into the background positioned on large white pedestals. The only color visible is the turquoise altar cloth and various shades of blue in the diamond-patterned stained glass windows. I am looking at the true meaning of understated elegance. The church is beautiful, exceeding my expectations — surprisingly so.

Soon it is time to say goodbye and turn our toes north toward Fort Mason and our ultimate destination for the evening — the recently restored Trucountry Inn making its home in Brady —the geographical heart of Texas.