'Village Life in Kreis Saarburg, Germany'

Travel Tuesday - We Will Leave Our Homeland Forever

2012-01-23T22:01:00.007-06:00

Emigrant Agent recruits travelers in 1855;
Exhibit at Kommern Museum, Rhineland

Have you ever thought about your ancestors' last weeks in their homeland before they set sail into the unknown? Just moving from one city to another because of work or marriage or retirement is a wrenching change for most of us. However, we live in a world where going back now and then to what we left behind is usually possible. When our 19th century ancestors left, they were very aware they would never see their birthplace or the remainder of their family and friends again.

It was pure serendipity that I found a German website for a museum in the Northern Rhineland that spelled out in great detail the drama of the days before departure. Descriptions of exhibits at the museum in the village of Kommern, gave me new insights into the reasons that people left, the process of making travel arrangements, and the days of "farewell." The following is based on an excellent overview written by the Museum staff and loosely translated by me.

Poverty and Famines in the 19th Century

The majority of the population had always lived in difficult circumstances. In the 19th century, however, the poverty was often so oppressive that fundamental nourishment was lacking in many families' diets. While the population grew steadily, the area of land available for cultivation stayed the same, and more and more people had an amount of food that stayed the same from year to year but was much less than they needed. Their principal foods were potatoes and bread. In years of crop failures, disaster struck. The famine years were at their worst in 1816/17 and again in 1846/47; many could not feed themselves and their families.

Although serfdom, compulsory labor and taxes in kind were abolished during the years of Napoleon's rule of the area, high transfer fees were paid to the aristocratic landowners who still held the majority of the land. The farmers, now free to own land, had gone into debt. Thus the agricultural economy was deprived of the means which it needed for improved farming methods and new equipment.

Due to the spread in the west and southwest of revised inheritance laws that allowed all children of a family to divide the land for inheritance, farms were fragmented. Many farmers added craft work such as weaving to supplement their family's income. At the same time the industrial revolution, which was spreading through Europe, made it impossible for craftsmen to compete with cheaper industrial goods, especially from England. Mass poverty and political hopelessness after the revolutions of 1830/33 and 1848/49 impelled more and more people to emigrate.

"Selling" Life in the United States

America offered the hope for an income sufficient to survive and even prosper. With the increase in the number of emigrants from Germany to America, the population's need for information about the United States also increased. "America letters" from settlers already in the United States, sent back to relatives in the Rhineland, served as the first guides for likely emigrants. Very soon promotional literature about the American states as well as specially created "guides" for emigrants appeared. In bright colors, some fabricated pamphlets, which promised a land flowing with milk and honey and roasted pigeon on every table, began to circulate. For many who were dissatisfied with the economic and social conditions of their country, it seemed that the promised land was no longer "three miles beyond Christmas," Rather, it was obtainable by anyone who was ready to leave and wanted to make his fortune.

Many times the agents of the shipping companies deliberately exaggerated the living conditions in America, describing America as a kind of paradise, in order to win over the doubters and have a lucrative business. Ship brokers were located not only in port cities, but maintained many offices within the country. In the Rhineland agencies were located in Koblenz, Cologne, Trier and Dusseldorf. There were also numerous part-time agents working in smaller villages who recruited interested potential emigrants. Many a man booked his passage to North America in the Gasthaus tavern.

The agents earned money according to the number of bookings they made. Fraud occurred, most commonly in the early days of emigration fever. Eventually the authorities issued warnings, and newspapers presented realistic descriptions of the new world so that the situation improved in the second half of the century.

Farewell and Departure

The farewell to relatives and friends was the hardest step in the process of emigration to America. Much as birth, marriage, and death involved ceremony, emigration was perceived as a similar profound turning point in life. Symbolic ways of coping with such a momentous event came into being.

In many places the departure for America was made festive. Where possible the emigrants who were about to leave, along with their relatives and friends, celebrated in the home that soon would be left behind. Some of the wealthier emigrants donated memorial crosses to the village in order to preserve their remembrance in the Alte Heimat. On the day of departure, the emigrants with possessions loaded on wagons or carried on shoulders, were often accompanied to the border of the village by all the residents staying behind. The song and music was a way for those staying behind to express solidarity with the travelers. This almost joyous farewell thus offered a positive outlook to the present and also future immigrants.

Cemetery at Beurig, Kreis Saarburg

One last visit that was commonly made before the day of departure was to the cemetery where each person took leave of departed parents or grandparents. Often they filled some earth from the grave into a small bag. This soil was meant to be placed in the emigrant's grave in America It was a way to symbolically reunite with the family that lived across the ocean.

Sources:
http://www.wir-rheinlaender.lvr.de/

A Lothringen Christmas

2011-12-05T21:48:00.006-06:00

Nativity Scene at the 2009 Christmas market in Metz, Lorraine, France
Photo by Josiane of Lorraine

In today's world of rapid transportation, we would consider eastern French Lorraine - which was known to my ancestors as Lothringen - a "stone throw" away from my Kreis Saarburg ancestors' villages. It is not surprising, given the proximity to the French border, that some of the Christmas customs in Lothringen were much the same as those in Kreis Saarburg.

In a book by Josef Ollinger called "Geschichten und Sagen von Saar und Mosel, the author includes French Lorraine as a part of the above-named German regions, with Christmas customs that would have been very familiar to my Kreis Saarburg ancestors. Since many of the traditions, whether from Lothringen or Kreis Saarburg, were unfamiliar to me, I thought it would be fun to share them for this post.

Christmas Preparations

The Midnight mass was the most important part of the Christmas time, and a true family celebration. In the days before Christmas, in order to get ready for the Midnight mass, everyone in the family gathered together to practice the church hymns so that the singing would be especially beautiful on the holy night.

Christ Child baking Christmas cookies

During Advent, the children kept an eye on the evening sky. If there was a red sky when the sun set, they knew that the Christkind was busy baking Christmas cookies.

Willow and hazelnut switches were cut by the householder, if possible it was a midnight cutting which gave the branches the best defensive power. They were bound together and meant to defend against trouble-making spirits who wanted to do evil on the night of the Christ Child's birth.

Christmas Eve

For Lothringen households, the hearth in the kitchen was the heart of the Christmas Eve celebration. It was the time for the Christbrand, the Christmas fire. The members of the family dressed in their Sunday/holiday best and spent Christmas eve in the kitchen, sitting close to the hearth. Two men of the family brought the Obstbaumstamm, the fruit tree log, inside. It had been cut in summer so that it would be thoroughly dry. The log was laid on the hearth, and the mother and daughters of the family carefully wound ivy tendrils around the log. After the log was decorated, the father said a blessing over the log. One end of the log was pushed firmly into the glowing embers, so that the log would burn down from that end to the other.

Modern children's book of Christmas carols

After these ritual ceremonies had been performed, everyone gathered around the hearth to eat Christmas Kuchen and drink hot mulled wine, the Glühwein. Until it was time to leave the house for the Christmas Eve Midnight Mass, the family sang familiar Christmas carols, "Ihr Kinderlein, kommet," "Es ist ein Rose entsprungen," "Morgen, Kinder, wird's was geben,""Von Himmel hoch, da komm ich her," "Christkindelein, Christkindelein."

They also shared familiar Christmas stories. In some areas of Lothringen, three stools were placed near the hearth so that, if the Holy Family should arrive, they would have a place to sit and warm themselves. It was strongly forbidden to sit on the non-burning end of the log, which would surely lead to calamity in the future ( a matter of common sense as well as a superstition in my opinion).

The appearance in the hallway of the house of the Christ child with his silver wings was the high point of the Christmas Eve celebration for the young ones. Dressed in white, the Christ Child walked into the Stube (good room) and asked each child to sing a Christmas song or say a prayer, admonished them to be good children, gave them some sweets - and disappeared.

In families where the Christkind did not appear in person, the children put their largest shoes around the edge of the hearth on Christmas Eve. In the morning the shoes were filled with apples and nuts.

Midnight

Before going to the Midnight Mass, the householder went out to wake his bees in their basket hives. He said, in blessing, "the Savior has been born." It was believed that the bees hummed/sang all during the time of the Midnight mass. The householder also went to the stable to spread a thick layer of straw beneath the animals to protect them from predator's teeth and claws during the upcoming year. Another legend said that at midnight, in honor of Christ's birth, the animals were given the gift of speech.

It was also believed that if someone wanted to learn who in the village would die within the next year, he or she must be in the cemetery when the clock struck midnight on Christmas Eve. Then the faces of those who would not live to see the next Christmas would appear. If there was a face that could not be recognized, it meant that the person who stood in the cemetery would die that year.

The Midnight Mass was the holiest and most important experience of the Christmas religious experience. In addition, because it was believed to bring good luck, some families attended all three Christmas masses to give them special blessings in the coming year.

Christmas Day

The house held a jug with the Barbara Zweige which had been cut about Dec. 4. Usually these were cherry branches that had budded, the flowers meant to open by Christmas Eve. The cherry branches (Kirschzweig) or other fruit tree cuttings were placed in water and kept in a warm room after they were cut. If all went well, on Christmas day the sprig displayed blossoms. If the branch bloomed precisely on December 25th, it was regarded as a particularly good sign for the future.

December flowering cherry tree branches,
Wikipedia Commons

After the Midnight Mass, there was a special "night meal" at which meat was a special part of the repast, a treat that was not very often a part of a meal, no matter what time of day or year.

Other Superstitions

After the Christmas Eve log had been completely burned, the fire was left to die out, since the ash and charcoal had gained a wonderful power of blesssing. The wife carefully saved what was left of the Christmas Eve fire.The charcoal would be placed under the bed of the man of the house and on the timberwork of the storeroom stall and of the stable. This protected all from lightening, fire, and sickness.

The Christmas log's ashes were spread on the fields to make them fertile for the next year's crops, to destroy weeds and vermin, and to protect the land from hexes and any evil enchantments which resided in the earth.

The dreams of the 12 days of Christmas, der Losnächte which lasted from the 24th of December until January 6, were thought to foretell a person's future in the coming year, each night representing one month.

Preparing this month's blog post has put me in the Christmas mood much earlier than usual. Yesterday, St. Barbara's feast day, I cut three small apple tree branches with buds and brought them inside - in the hope that on Christmas day, they will show at least one flower and good luck will follow me in the new year.

Sources:

Josef Ollinger, Geschichten und Sagen Von Saar Und Mosel, 2005

Anne Diekmann and Willi Gohl, Das Große Liederbuch, 1975

On St. Martin's Day, Winter is Not Far Away

2011-11-14T16:56:00.005-06:00

Saint Martin's Day Procession, Saarburg 2011

St. Martin's Day, November 11, marked, in former times, the start of winter. It was a day which affected the residents of each village in many ways. It was the time when interest and lease payments were due. This was the origin of the following farmers' saying, "Sankt Martin ist ein harter Mann für den, der nicht zahlen kann." ("Saint Martin is a hard man, for those who cannot pay.") It was a better day for the sheep herders and the servants who received their yearly pay on this day. The geese lost their heads, literally, at the beginning of winter, and the celebration of the feast included roast goose for those families that could afford it. "Sankt Martin ist ein guter Mann, er bringt die Bratgans uns heran," was another farmer's saying that represented St. Martin's Day (Saint Martin is a good man; he brings the roast goose to us).

By St. Martin's Day, the field work and the harvest were finished. I was surprised to learn that in earlier times, Advent began right after St. Martin's Day, with the eating of meat strictly forbidden during the entire period. Therefore, the roast goose eaten on the saint's feast day was the last meat that would appear on the table until Christmas Day and this must have greatly increased the enjoyment of the St. Martin's Day meal.

The custom of the St. Martin's procession is one of the few that is still observed in the current time, as the picture above shows. The children go out with colorful lanterns, following St. Martin on horseback, dressed as a Roman soldier, who leads the parade. At the end of the procession, a giant Martin's bonfire is lit and the children receive Brezeln, a bread pretzel formed into distinctive symmetrical loops from a long strip of intertwined dough.

After St. Martin's Day, the hard work of the months of harvest came to an end and the cold winter months began. The soil began its yearly rest. Then farmers too could sit near the stove or the fireplace, rest, and enjoy a break from the heavy labor which would not start again until spring.

In the autumn, some of the fruits gathered had been mashed and put in oak barrels to ferment. In the winter came the time to distill or "burn" the fermented fruit into Schnapps. Many kinds were made. The cherries, Mirabel plums and Zwetsch plums made an especially fine Schnapps that would be served on special occasions and feast days. For every day, a Schnapps made of pressed apple peelings called " Balesch" was a drink for workdays. A typical farmer would drink Balesch each morning after his breakfast. It was meant to protect against every kind of illness. If a person had a stomach ache, not the doctor but Balesch was the prescription.

When the weather was cold enough to freeze, the farm's pig was slaughtered for the family's winter food. Often the village butcher would come to the farm to make sure that no scrap of this valuable animal was wasted. The farmer's wife had already filled the large pig kettle with water and heated it on the fireplace. The pigs legs were bound together and the animal was dragged into a pile of clean straw. The butcher knelt down on the pig as it struggled to avoid the sharp pointed knife but in vain. The butcher made a cut from the throat to the heart and the farmer's wife caught the flowing blood in a large pan. Then the pig was covered in straw which was set on fire, burning the bristles from the pig's skin. The pig was pitch black as the fire was extinguished and his carcass was lifted on to the butchering table. Any remaining bristles shave off and washed with the hot water that had been heating in the kitchen. It took more than one man to lift the pig's carcass and hang it on a ladder which leaned on the outer stable wall. The housewife then carefully cleaned the inside of the carcass, and it was left there until the rind or outer skin would harden with the cold.

The following day, the butcher returned, cutting the pig into pieces to be smoked, made into sausages or eaten fresh. Even though the farmer's wife had previously felt compassion for the animal she had fed and tended throughout the year, now she could not but be happy as she thought about the tasty ham, bacon, fresh meat and sausage that she would put on the table for her family during the winter months.

Many cellars were made of stone which was an especially good place to store the winter supply of produce that was the result of months of hard work growing and harvesting it. The stone construction helped keep the cellar at a temperature that was ideal for storage purposes all through the year. It had kept things cooler in the summer and now would be warm enough to avoid freezing the winter food supply. From November on, the cellar stored wine, potatoes and other root vegetable, and crocks of cut cabbage fermenting into Sauerkraut.

The farmer had felled trees and chopped wood for the fireplace in the first days of the winter season and stored it in a shed or shelter. The smaller branches of the trees were tied together into giant bundles. The smaller twigs were useful for quickly starting a fire on a cold winter morning.

All in all, the coming of winter was a time to be looked forward to for the hardworking farmers of the small villages in the Rhineland. For the farmers, there was now time to sharpen the tools that had been dulled from the cutting of crops or tilling the soil and to make any necessary repairs to the farm equipment. These were the hours when the father, mother, and children had opportunities to spend with each other in simple pleasures; when the men had the time to talk and have a drink together, when the women had no more field work and could sit to spin or knit, either alone or with a few women neighbors, and most of all it was a period when the children could once again look forward to the visit from St. Nikolaus and the wonderful celebration of Christmas.

I grew up on a small Wisconsin dairy farm and I remember winter's pleasures, especially seeing my father eating a leisurely supper because there was no hurry to get ready for the outdoor work of the next day. Those were times of family laughter and togetherness and is probably one of the reasons, unlike many other people in Wisconsin, I still look forward to the coming of winter and the memories that go with it.

Ollinger, Josef. Geschichten und Sagen von Saar und Mosel, 2005
Jean Morette. Landlleben im Jahreslauf, 1983
St. Martin Photo by Josiane of Lorraine

A Look at Le Havre, a Less-Known Port for German Emigrants

2011-10-09T23:16:00.009-05:00

Port of Le Havre in 1856

One of the basic questions for most people who are attempting to tell the story of their ancestors centers on the port of departure for the emigrant family. Early in my family research, I thought that all Germans left their country from either the port at Hamburg (for which there are passenger lists which give the town where the emigrant lived) or Bremen (where passenger lists were destroyed by fire). I became convinced that all of my ancestors sailed from Bremen, since the Hamburg passenger lists did not log any of my ancestors at all.

If I couldn't find the departure point, I decided to take second-best. I began to search the New York Passenger Lists of arrivals. Perhaps I would be lucky and find a ship captain who gave the city or village of birth for one of my ancestors. Since I undertook this project in the days before the internet existed, my search meant hours scanning unindexed passenger lists for the New York port on microfilm. My Meier ancestors, according to their citizenship application, arrived in the US in May of 1861, I started my search with May 1, looking at each name for each passenger list for every ship. It was not a small undertaking! I did find my ancestors arrival from Prussia (no city or county given) on May 9, 1861. I was no closer to finding their village of birth than before I started. But I had learned an important fact. German immigrants left their native land from a number of ports other than Hamburg and Bremen: Antwerp, Belgium and Le Havre France being two of the most important. I later learned that not only the Meiers but also my Probst ancestors from Bavaria had chosen Le Havre as their port of embarkation to Amerika. I started collecting information about Le Havre but, as usual, not much was written about what most US family historians seem to consider a very secondary port.

My sister, with her fluent French, was able to lend a helping hand for the Le Havre information through a a search of the French national library, the Bibliothèque nationale de France, on line. I owe most of the information which follows to her efforts.

Le Havre of the 19th Century

The end of the revolutionary and Napoleonic wars allowed a revival of commerce and economic and population growth. The city became crowded within its walls and new neighborhoods appeared. But many of the poor were clustered in the unhealthy neighborhood of Saint Francis where the epidemics of cholera, typhoid and other diseases caused hundreds of deaths from the years 1830 to 1850. Rich traders were very much in the minority but increasing in numbers little by little. They built beautiful homes outside of the ramparts, on the “coast”. The settlement of a large Breton community (10% of the population of Le Havre at the end of the 19th century) changed the cultural life of the city. The economic success of the city attracted Angle-Saxon and Nordic entrepreneurs. Italians, Polish and then North Africans worked on the docks and in the factories.

Construction of a commercial center began in the 1840s and there was some gas lighting as early as 1836. In the middle of the century, the old city ramparts became a thing of the past as adjacent communes were annexed. As a result, the population of the city of Le Havre increased dramatically. The period 1850-1914 became a golden age for Le Havre. Business exploded and the city became more and more impressive with large boulevards, a city hall, court house, and a new financial exchange.

The effects of the industrial revolution were everywhere. By 1841, there were 32 steamships in the harbor, and the shipyards develop. The railroad which was built in 1847 allowed the opening up of Le Havre. The docks were constructed in the same time period, as well as general stores.

The harbor remained the port of the Americas: it received tropical products (coffee, cotton). European coastal shipping carried wood, coal and wheat from northern Europe; wine and oil from the Mediterranean. The abolition of the African slave trade brought with it, little by little, a change in that traffic. During the first part of the 19th century, the port maintained the Atlantic slave trade (this pertains to an illegal period because in 1815, during the congress of Vienna, the importing of slaves was forbidden).

During the 1830s, Le Havre also became a resort frequented by Parisians. The creation of seaside baths increased in this time.

"Sadly sitting on their sorry baggage, waiting the time of departure, they have descended into a kind of stupor, overwhelmed by the vague intuition of the immensity of what they were undertaking and by the memory of that which they left behind them. " Theophile Gautier about the painting The Emigrants of Alsace by Theophile Schuler

Le Havre remained a place of passage for those who sought emigration to the United States. The transatlantic trips became important in the second half of the 19th century. It was the beginning of the era of the ocean liners that turned their seaport into the pride of the people of Le Havre.

A memento of the importance of the port of Le Havre for German emigration to the United States is John Shea's Englisch-Amerikanisches Handbuch für Auswanderer und Reisende, which was published in Le Havre in 1854. It claimed to be "the first book of the kind ever attempted in Havre for the instruction of the English language to emigrants", with a phrase book and a pronunciation guide. Besides reprinting the regulations for steerage passengers to New York and New Orleans in both English and German, it also provided a list of emigration agents, noting "By their endeavors, Havre has become the thoroughfare of emigration from Switzerland and the South of Germany to the United States..." This now obscure work was an attempt to cash in at the high point of the first boom period for emigration via Le Havre, which would taper off at the end of the decade.

To some extent, Le Havre owed its existence to America, since its harbor was constructed by Francois the First in 1519 for colonial expeditions to the new world. Its function as an emigration port took on a new quality after the end of the Napoleonic wars, when mass movement once again became possible. Secondly the developing cotton industry in Alsace required raw material from the United States. German disunity, and the resulting multiple tariffs imposed on Rhine river traffic made it cheaper to do this overland, across France. As elsewhere, the shipment of persons was a by-product of commercial shipments: the docks at Le Havre were enlarged and steamboat traffic on the Seine increased. Emigrants could obtain transport on freight wagons returning from the east. They were at first mainly Swiss and Alsatians. At any rate, according to a letter from Le Havre sent to the prefect of the department of the Moselle on May 20, 1841, "Here, no distinction is made between German and Alsatian emigrants, they are all just called Swiss." (quoted in Camille Maire, L'émigration des Lorrains en Amérique 1815-1870, Metz 1980). Due to the timber trade, a certain number of Norwegians sailed to Le Havre and then boarded ships to America.

As a result, traffic between New Orleans and Le Havre was particularly important, although New York was also involved in the trade in cotton and was of course a magnet for immigrants. The majority of immigrants did not remain in Louisiana, but proceeded up the Mississippi to St. Louis and Cincinatti, at least before the expansion of the U.S. railway system. In 1818, passage from Le Havre to America was 350-400 francs; in the early 1830s it was 120-150 francs. Leaving aside the difficult question of how much this was "worth" in purchasing power, the fact remains that the increase in shipping (including regular packet service) had led to a dramatic decrease in prices for transport. The majority of these ships were American. Since the only emigration lists that have survived are for French ships, this leaves an enormous gap in the records.

The Emigrant Travels to Le Havre

The Meier ancestors booked their passage on a relatively small (197 passengers) American sailing ship called Rattler. Every passenger is listed as "Farmer" (many were probably landless day laborers) and the majority came from Prussia, although there were also travelers from Baden, Wurtenberg, Bavaria, Hesse and Switzerland with five or less each from France, Italy, England and the United States.

At first, it was necessary for emgirants to make arrangements for passage directly with the captains of the vessels. During the sailing season there were thus always several thousand persons waiting to leave. They could be obliged to wait for weeks, partly in lodging houses, partly outdoors. A German colony of innkeepers, shopkeepers and brokers materialized to service them. Agents began meeting the emigrants on the road to Le Havre to sign them up. After the French government required in 1837 that Germans present a valid ticket at the French border, local offices began to be opened in Switzerland and the German states. Again, as elsewhere, French authorities did not want large numbers of indigent would-be emigrants stranded in the port. Previously, the only document required to cross the border had been a passport.

There is some difference of opinion as to why the number of emigrants who went through Le Havre began to decline. In 1854, it is true, the Prussian government forbade its subjects to emigrate via France, but this ban was lifted in May 1855. Despite growing competition, mainly from Bremen, Le Havre could still have held its own. An economic slump in the USA slowed immigration in 1858, but this applied equally to all European ports. The development of the French railway system also made passage across France easier (one day's travel from the border to Paris). Yet, although the state railway system offered reduced fares and even special trains in the spring, it seems that in general the French railroads were more expensive than German ones. A ticket from Mayence (Mainz) to Le Havre in the 1850s cost 40.65 francs, to Antwerp only 12 and to Bremen 15.50 (Camille Maire, En route pour l'Amérique, Nancy 1993). Jean Braunstein suggests that there were stricter border controls in 1858, due to an attempted political assassination, which was then exaggerated by the German press.

During most of this period, emigrants were required to bring their own provisions. It is sometimes thought that this was disadvantage compared to German ports, where early on, emigrants were provided with meals on board. In reality, many southern Germans were decidedly unimpressed by North German cuisine and such unfamiliar foods as herring, and preferred to bring their own. On the other hand, Bremen and Hamburg did take more steps to protect emigrants from unscrupulous agents and salesmen who sold them overly expensive and sometimes unncessary goods.

Waiting for and Boarding Ships in Le Havre

"The accommodation of emigrants awaiting departure is a serious problem. The less fortunate sleep in the street, on the floor, or up makeshift tents on the banks of the streets and sidewalks of St. Francis and Notre Dame. Others took refuge in shacks close to the fortifications or in the plain with their baggage. In 1840, the "Revue du Havre" wrote that "the city is crowded with the poorest Bavarian immigrants... The floating population began to camp out on the ramparts of the east. They takes shelter under the elms; excavations in the thickness of slope ditches serve as their home ... Those who have two francs a day, can find accommodation among innkeepers of St. Francis and Our Lady, who specialize in taking care of immigrants. There are a dozen in 1850. As the Commissioner of the emigration noted, the high price of rents in the city of Le Havre force the landlords to establish themselves in the narrow streets in areas that are dirty and wet ... " Andre Corvisier

Among the hotels for travelers but with a cost much too expensive for the average German emigrant were Hotel Richelieu: Richelieu Place, No. 2; Hotel de Normandie: Rue de Paris, No. 106; Hotel Helvetia: Quai de l'Ile, No. 3; Hotel de la Marinae: Quai Notre-Dame, No. 7

Known hostels/Inns were the Hotel Suisse (François Merki): Quai barracks, No. 2; Golden Lion (George Rau): Quai Casimir Delavigne, No. 27; the Polar Bear (Philippe Gaspard): Rue Dauphine, 46.

There were two distinct categories of travelers - the passengers and the immigrants. The passengers in cabin class could take advantage to the comfort of ships that became ever faster and more luxurious. The immigrants were housed in steerage, just like the inanimate cargo they were replacing. It was usually miserable and overcrowded. The Meier ancestors sailed on a ship with only one class - steerage. Obviously the Rattler was strictly a cargo ship, whether that cargo was meant for French and German factories or for emigrants on their way to a new life.

Sources:
Wikipedia Le Havre, 19th Century
"Prosperite du Havre au 19eme siecle" Wikipedia
"Le Havre, port des émigrants" (p. 205-215). Je vous donne quelques extraits des pages 206-207: Legoy, Jean Hier, Le Havre. Tome IIHistoire du Havre et de l'estuaire de la Seine / sous la dir. de André Corvisier. - [Éd. mise à jour]. - Toulouse : Privat, 1987. - 335 p. - (Pays et villes de France).
Dax, Albert de, Guide de l'émigrant partant du port du Havre pour le Rio de la Plata, Montevideo et Buenos-Ayres. - Havre : impr. de H. Brindeau, 1856. - 48 p. (A book that provides practical information for potential migrants to Latin America. It includes, p. 9 and 10, a list of hotels and inns that can accommodate them before they leave.)

Pilgrimage to the Holy Robe in Trier

2011-09-03T20:26:00.004-05:00

Next year from April 13 to May 15, the Cathedral in Trier will open the Chapel of the Heilige Rock. The Heilige Rock is thought to be the garment with no seams that Christ wore on his way to Calvary. The exposition of the Holy Robe is a special time and thousands of faithful come to the Trier Dom where it is housed in the special chapel that is only rarely accessible to the public. The last actual Heilige Rock pilgrimage was made in 1996.

The Holy Robe is the most important relic held in the Trier Cathedral. According to tradition, the Empress Dowager Helena, mother of Constantine the Great, brought the seamless robe of Christ to Trier. There is no exact verification of this since the Holy Robe is first mentioned in a document from the 12th century when it was moved from the west choir of the Cathedral to the new altar in the east choir in 1196.

The time between the showings of the Heilige Rock has varied over the centuries. The first showing was at the time of the dedication of the new high altar of the Cathedral in 1512. Pilgrims saw the Holy Robe held high for their veneration, when for several days the garment was taken from its storage place behind the altar and held out for the people to view. Following this pilgrimage, once a year from 1513 to 1517, another pilgrimage occurred.

There were only four occasions for such pilgrimages in the 16th century and then, most likely because of historical events like the 30 Years War and successive smaller wars, the garment was removed from the Trier Cathedral several time to the fortress at Ehrenbreitstein, near Koblenz, to secure its safety and the pilgrimages stopped. When Napoleon attacked the city in 1794, the garment was taken to the interior of Germany for safety and kept at Augsburg. This, however, caused the Bishop of Trier to have difficulty negotiating its return. The garment was restored to the Trier Cathedral in 1810. In celebration of the return, a pilgrimage to the Dom was made by the faithful from many parts of Germany.

In 1844, when the Holy Robe was next exhibited, masses of people, some sources say a million, reverently came to see it, including those from Zerf who were led by their priest, Father Matthias Guckeisen. In these years of the 1840s, when there was extreme poverty and disease in Zerf and the surrounding area, the strong Catholic faith of the people put their trust in God by making a pilgrimage, praying for improved conditions.

In 1891, Pope Leo XIII granted pilgrims who participated in the pilgrimage a plenary indulgence, which brought almost two million people to the Trier Cathedral for the celebration.

Since the time of the Cathedral renovation in 1974, the Holy Robe has been kept in its wooden shrine, which was built in 1891. It lies under an air-conditioned glass, where only a glimpse of it can be seen. The entire garment can no longer be viewed. The original state of the textile has altered too much to allow for full viewing because of the past events and the unfavorable storage conditions .

The last pilgrimage, held in 1996, was estimated to have brought over a million people to Trier. Since then, annual Holy Robe Days have been held at the Trier Dom. Only during the Holy Robe Days is the Holy Robe chapel of the Dom accessible.

The painting by August Gustav Lasinsky at the beginning of the blog, as well as the line drawing in the content itself, record the famous pilgrimage of 1844. The Lasinsky painting, done in 1847, is a good representation of the clothing worn by the people of the area at that time. Be sure to click on the picture two times to compare the clothing of the lower and the middle classes.

Sources:
Edgar Christoffel, Der Hochwaldort Zerf am Fuße es Hunsrücks, 1981
Trierer DOM web page - www.dominformation.de
Catholic Encyclopedia - http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/07400b.htm

A Postal Coach and a Wedding"

2011-07-24T22:09:00.002-05:00

Postal Coach - Photo by Virginia Streit

So many customs and events in the life of our ancestors can be looked at in two ways. There is the overview, which, in this blog, is what I have written about for the most part: What were the wedding customs? How were mail, cargo and crops transported from one place to another? How did an application to emigrate go from hand to hand until the necessary permission was obtained.

But there is another way to look at such events. And Maria Croon, who wrote what is now my "go to" book for sheer enjoyment while I learn, pries deep into the everyday workings of her village. For example, there is a commonalty in every wedding day in the small Kreis Saarburg villages. The overview is the same. But each life-changing commitment made by two young people of this long past time had its own special details; its own unique story that had led up to the moment when the bridal pair pledged their love for each other and became a married couple.

So I want to share one of Frau Croon's stories that delighted me and that focused on the courtship and mariage of a boy and a girl who met by chance and moved step by step to their wedding day. I hope you will smile and enjoy the romance between Thais (Matthias) and Kathrinchen (young Kathrin). It is a telling that puts a personal face on the traditions surrounding a rather ordinary village wedding, although not every girl marries a postcoach driver.

Thais is that postcoach driver, and as such, he is a minor (very minor) Prussian Government official. His coach is gold with an official emblem painted on its door, identifying the vehicle as the possession of the Prussian Emperor. Thais wears a uniform, a hat with a plume, and a leather shoulder belt that holds the horn used to announce that the mail coach has reached the edge of a village. He often plays a tune in keeping with his exuberant and fun-loving nature. In each town, he brings the postal coach, with its two strong white horses named Mine and Stine, to a halt in front of the local inn where the innkeeper receives a bag of letters and dispatches for the people of the town.

There is a special village on Thais' route, the one where pretty Kathrinchen lives. The fountain in the village, the Markusbrunnen built in honor of St. Mark, boasts a wide jet of water that flows into the trough below. The postcoach horses know where to find water in each village on their route so as soon as the mail bag is inside the Wirtshaus, Mine and Stine begin to pull at their harness, eager to get a drink and a short rest at the Markusbrunnen.

In this village, the team's respite will be substantial because young Kathrinchen has been listening for the postcoach horn and is off on her way to the Markusbrunnen with a large kettle of greens and a bucket to be filled with water - just in time to be seated at the edge of the trough when the horses of the postcoach arrive.

Seeing Kathrinchen, Thais jumps from his bench at the front of the coach, makes a courtly bow, and graciously offers to help her with her work. He holds each and every leaf under the cascading water of the Markusbrunnen until blond, curly haired Kathrinchen takes it from him and carefully inspects and washes it yet again, five or six times, in her bucket of water. She explains to Thais that her father is always most upset when he finds a snail or a bug in his salad; the young man is delighted that she must work so diligently and for such a long while.

Eventually Thais must leave the village. The tune his horn plays is usually a familiar one about a young man who must leave his sweetheart behind. Kathrinchen walks home with the scrupulously clean salad greens, sad because she will have to wait another long day before seeing Thais again. Her aunt Kathrin caustically remarks, on one particular day, that they will have the greens for dessert, since she and young Kathrin's father have already eaten the rest of the noon meal while they waited for Kathrinchen to return.

Time passes and one day, after the two young people have received conditional approval for their courtship, the parents of Thais, who live in the Hochwald, arrive in the village. They are dressed in the Tracht (traditional festive costume) of their district and have come to inspect the home of the girl their son hopes to marry. Kathrinchen's father, Herr Laux, and her aunt Kathrin are ready for this visit. Kathrinchen has put up fresh white muslin curtains to which she has affixed gold dots and which are tied back with a blue ribbon. Every pot, kettle, and frying pan has been scoured with sand until it glows. The smell of pork ribs roasting permeates the air all along the village street. Aunt Kathrin leads the tour of the house in which Thais, Kathrinchen, her father and her aunt will live after the wedding, pointing with special pride to the two cupboards, both sides of each cupboard tight full of linens.

Herr Laux becomes the guide as the visiting couple visit cattle stall and fodder storage area of the farmhouse. There were two cows, one was a horned, strong beast and the other a calf. A sow for breeding as well as two half grown pigs and two little piglets made up the rest of the livestock. With pride in his possessions, Herr Laux observes to the visiting couple that since Kathrinchen is his only child, all this will be hers - nothing will be divided. Thais' parents are pleased because they have six children, meaning their farm must be divided six ways. However, they are quick to point out that they have one or two more cows than Herr Laux and that Thais has an important government position. Not to be outdone, Aunt Kathrin observes that Kathrinchin too is a capable young woman and has always been at the head of her school class.

The meeting of the future in-laws having gone well, Thais and Kathrinchen are to marry in October. Thais would gladly have driven his bride-to-be to the wedding ceremony in the gold postal coach. But Herr Laux firmly denied this request. It was his little girl's very special day, and she was meant to walk exceedingly slowly along the road from the Laux house to the church, with the wedding guests behind her. In this way there would be enough time for all to admire his lovely Kathrinchen, while her dead mother smiles from her place in heaven and gives her blessing.

So it was that there was much activity at the Laux house on the morning of the wedding as the guests milled about until all were were in their places and the procession could begin. At the head of the procession was Kathrinchin on the arm of Thais' brother. She wore a black silk dress, and a crown and veil adorned her blond hair. Thais came next, walking with Kathrinchen's cousin. Then came the relatives and wedding guests - first the single young people; then those who were married. Many in this second group wore their own wedding day finery, somewhat dulled with age, and often stretched at the seams.

A little girl dressed in all white recited a poetic adage to begin the procession. It was so sweet that many of the women wiped their eyes with their handkerchiefs as they heard the words.

The procession went first to the village hall for the civil ceremony, next to the cemetery to pray at the grave of Kathrinchen's mother, and finally to the church where the bride shed many tears as she and Thais knelt at the altar. The wedding guests whispered to each other, "Kathrinchen weeps loudly; that means luck." If the eyes of the bride remained dry, her crying, it was said, would come during her marriage.

On leaving the church, the bridal couple found their way blocked by schoolchildren holding a chain across the road. They recited:

"Your bride is pretty and fine,

therefore she shall be our prisoner.

If you wish to have her back again,

you must pay a lot of money."

After much negotiation, Thais and some of the other men contributed a suitable ransom for Kathrinchen as her young captors auctioned off her shoe.

In the afternoon, the wedding procession assembled again, and trod the village street once more, led by a Malerjab* wearing a wreath of Kuchen around his neck and with a brandy bottle tucked under his arm. Every passerby got a piece of the Kuchen and a swallow of brandy. The wedding guests followed him until they came to the house with its tables laden with every kind of cake and torte. There was singing and merry tunes from a concertina or two, but all went suddenly still when Thais' horn played the tune with which he had teased and courted his Kathrinchin "Hopp, Kathrinchen, tanz mit mir."

Tanz! It is the magic word and the young people can hardly wait until the musicians arrive in the village for the evening of dancing. For a third time, the wedding procession forms and makes its way to the Wirtshaus where the sound of Rhinelander melodies, waltzes, polkas and mazurkas float over the rooftops and into open windows all along the Dorfstraße.

A bucket of greens and a postcoach horn - unusual and endearing components for a successful courtship.

Source: Maria Croon, Die Dorfstrasse, Eine bunte Heimatchronik

For a general overview of a Rhineland wedding with more information on the courtship and marriage customs, go to http://19thcenturyrhinelandlive.blogspot.com/2005/10/weddings-hunsruck-style.html

*Malerjab could be the dialect word for the man who took charge of the wedding arrangements and saw to the entertainment of the guests? Or perhaps he was just a man who enjoyed a wedding?

Climbing the Stairs

2011-06-23T22:04:00.002-05:00

Stairway to the upper floor

Remember Onkel Willem and his simple barnhouse? We explored the ground floor of his dwelling in my last post. You probably guessed that there was more to come because his house had two stories. So it is time to climb the stairs to see what is in the rooms situated above the Stube and the tiny dark kitchen.

Bedroom in one of the houses at the Roscheider Hof Open-Air Museum

The second floor of Onkel Willem's house had more space because it covered not only the two ground-floor rooms but also extended above the stable. The animals below, snug in their stalls, provided heat to the upper floor during the winter. This is where the sleeping rooms were situated. Another room, called the little meat house, was the place where the smoked meat (that had originally been cured in the fireplace downstairs) was now strung on a pole.

Meeting the family's need to save whatever might have future value -and to visiting children's delight - there was a little, almost invisible door in a dark corner of the upper floor which led to a kind of low-ceilinged space filled with a mixture of objects. They were seldom if ever used, but they might be needed at some yet unknown time in the future. We would call it a junk room perhaps; the German language calls it Gerümpel, one of those great nouns that sounds like what it is. It was also a place where young imaginations could run wild. Two or three children could pretend that one was the jailer and the others the prisoners. The prisoners had to pay to get a bread crust and some water and were confined until the master jailer (Kerkermeister) opened the door. Or they could imagine that the attic was the place where a fugitive, during some long ago war, had hidden a treasure - a basket with Zwetschen brandy, a nice fat ham, and perhaps even a pig bladder full of hard tallow (an air-tight container that could be used as a ball in a variety of games).

Next, up a flight of very narrow stairs, came the third floor "real" attic where the corn, wheat and oats were stored. There were small white ovals here and there amid the hills of golden colored grains. Those were the eggs that Onkel Willem's wife, Mimi Sus, had stored there to preserve them for the winter months. (Winter was the time the hens lacked food and stopped producing eggs). Sacks with dried peas, linseed and clover seed for planting in the spring stood nearby. There was a ceiling beam in the upper attic where the women hung small bags with garden seeds.

An even longer beam was hung with work shirts, bed linen, dish and hand towels that were washed each week but which were not needed before the next "big wash" in either spring or fall. During the big wash, these pieces, along with other anything else that was dirty, were soaked in lye made from ashes - then bleached white in the sun and given a fresh, pleasant-smelling scent before they were stored in cabinets and on shelves for future use.

Now we have a word picture of the house of Onkel Willem, one which bears a strong resemblance to many of the houses of his neighbors - and to the Irsch house of my great-great grandparents.

Source: Croon, Maria. Die Dorfstrasse, Eine Bunte Heimatchronik

The Stube and Futterküche of a Small Farmer's Dwelling

2011-05-20T22:06:00.004-05:00

"The Village Street, a Colorful History" by Maria Croon

There are not many librarians who can resist going into the bookstore/stores when on vacation. That has been true on each of my four visits to Saarburg.

On my first visit nearly 30 years ago, I found a children's book about life in neighboring Lorraine. It was meant for grade school youngsters and the customs and living conditions described were almost identical to life in Kreis Saarburg. I had a fighting chance of understanding it if I had a dictionary - I knew only about 50 words of German then. Fortunately the book had great illustrations. It eventually taught me a lot about the life of farming families in the previous century.

My favorite bookstore in Saarburg these days is on a side street near the center of the city. Usually I buy at least one or two history books about the small towns of the area, and once I bought a children's book of German songs with beautiful pictures. It seemed to weigh about 20 pounds when I had to carry it home.

In October, 2010, my recent trip to Saarburg, I bought a easy-to-carry memoir book called "Die Dorfstrasse" which means "The Village Street." There was a difficulty, however. The Trier and Saarburg areas, as I've noted in at least one other post, had a dialect that actually requires translation to German in this 21st century. While almost no one speaks the old Mosel-Frankische dialect now, dialect words turn up regularly in conversations among people in the area and words I struggle to read in this book would be familiar to them. For me, that is not the case. But Maria Croon, the author, grew up in Meurich, a farming village not too far from Irsch, Zerf, and Serrig. She describes exactly what I want to know so I keep struggling.

In the first chapter, I was invited into the Stube and Futterküche in the house of Grandfather Willem, and it would have strongly resembled the small, crowded Stube to which great-great-grandmother Lena came when she disobeyed her father and married into a much poorer family.

The chapter started with a description of a bench. It seemed to be one of the most important things a Stube held. It was called a Taakbank. Taak is one of those dialect words. Google Translator and all my dictionaries were no help. So I turned to Ewald Meyer, who is still able to read the old dialect. My e-mail's subject line read, "Help!" By the next morning I had the knowledge I needed.

The Meyer's Decorative Takenplaten

Ewald said, "In her books, she (Maria Croon) has narrated her memories and experiences from her childhood. In the old farm houses, there was usually only one fireplace - in the kitchen. The living room or Stube was next to the kitchen. The wall between the fireplace (in the kitchen) and the Stube had an opening which was closed with a cast-iron plate called a Takenplatte. These plates were often decorated with a motif from the Bible or the rural life. However, these plates were called Taakplatten in the Mosel Frankisch dialect. They transferred the heat from the fireplace in the kitchen into the living room. The bench in front of this plate, the Taakbank, was particularly popular as a place to sit in the winter."

The Taakbank is the reserved place for grandfather Willem, smoking his pipe that envelops him in smoke. The Stube where he sits is is a "family room" in the true sense of the words. Here one could witness almost all the comings and goings of the family during those few hours when they were not engaged in work in the stables, the garden, or the fields. Today we might think of it as a place that functions as a living room, family room, dining room and part of the kitchen. This is made obvious by the objects that can be found in the Stube of grandfather Willem and his wife, known as Mimi Sus.

To the best of my ability, using my imagination and the descriptions in "Die Dorfstrasse," I determined what objects might have occupied the Johann and Lena Meier's Stube. In addition to the Taakbank, there were shelves for dishes, some Viez mugs and a Viez jug for pouring. On the shelves closest to the Taakplatten there were more perishable items such as a container of sliced bread, a saltcellar, bowls of homemade cheeses, marmelade, Kuchen and, in good times, there might be a bag of sugar lumps, much loved by the children. The proximity to the heat kept these items dry and avoided mold and spoilage.

As in the house of Grandfather Willem, the Meier's Stube had a clock in a dark wood case, often difficult to keep running. A goose feather was used to make adjustments and keep the mechanism oiled when this prized possession was not working well. The goose quills as well as a few chicken quills were kept in an earthenware jar close at hand for they were often needed to fix the clock or clean the bowl of a smoker's pipe. The clock stands on a homemade cabinet which holds practical items that should be in easy reach for doing indoor chores; they are not at all decorative. There is as a whetstone for sharpening knives, the container with quills, the paddles for carding wool, a hackle for readying flax for spinning into linen, to name a few.

The large table in this room served more than one purpose. Each day, the family gathered around it for the daily meal. But once a week, the top of the table was put aside, revealing the Backmulde, a bread mixing trough, which was hidden underneath. Many loaves of bread as well as the dough for seasonal Kuchen--apple, plum, pear--were made here in the Stube.

Unlike our kitchens today with its many countertops, drawers, and cabinets, the kitchen in this house was small and dark, known as the Futterküche. No room to mix and knead bread here. Many chores related to food were done in the Stube. The floor of the Futterküche was made of uneven slate pieces. It occupied what we might call a cubbyhole area in the back corner of the house next to the Stube; its only light came in through the large chimney opening of the fireplace, where ham, bacon and sausages hung as they were smoked. Sometimes the swallows made a nest at the top of the chimney. Two buckets filled with water from the village well were kept in the Futterküche, along with the feed kettle used for the scraps that will help fatten the pigs until it is time to "harvest" one or more of the animals for winter food. The bake oven here, with its heavy iron door is where the bread was baked. A fire was started in the oven. When the inside walls of the oven were hot enough, the ashes from the fire were removed and the bread or Kuchen carefully pushed inside by means of a long paddle - to be baked by the thoroughly heated oven walls.

In one corner of the cramped, dark kitchen there were some small sacks of dried Zwetschen plums and pieces of pears. Above them hung the discolored everyday caps and aprons of the mother, grandmother and daughters. A cow collar (cows did the work of a horse for a small landowner), tea herbs drying in bunches, onion bundles, and a deflated pig bladder (used for sausage casings) also hung there.

Grandfather Willem's Futterküchen also had mouse droppings - At this point I'm still undecided whether to add them to the contents of the interior of Lena and Johann's abode.

Introducing a Companion Blog

2011-04-14T22:15:00.035-05:00

A photo from my companion blog!

In April of 2011, I began a companion blog to "Village Life in Kreis Saarburg, Germany." I thought it would be nice to be able to take a visual tour through the area my ancestors call their "Heimat." For some reason, whatever I wrote at that time seems to have disappeared. There is a link to it on this blog, but it seems that I should do something about my latest genealogical mystery "The case of the missing blog text." The picture above comes from the companion blog; the following is the introduction to "Pictures from the Alte Heimat"

Pictures from the Alte Heimat

One picture is worth a thousand words, or so they say. Thus, this blog will be mostly pictures. German emigrants, having no cameras, had to store pictures of the "old homeland" in "their minds' eyes." Surely the images faded as the years went by. Fortunately, I can stop the fading of my memory pictures with pictures from my own camera, and the photography skills/pictures of some very kind residents of the "Alte Heimat".

Three generations Living Under One Roof

2011-03-31T22:10:00.012-05:00

Front of Meier House

Sometimes you have to think outside the box; other times the box needs to be flipped!

In my last post, I described the house-barn-stables of my great-great grandparents. Most of my information came from Ewald Meyer, who had obtained the 1927 building plans of the property from the current owners.

I thought I had understood that data pretty well, but I had a tendency to forget that the plan which I had before me was not from the year 1860 nor from 1828, when the Kataster map, which came with the tax documents, was published. In 1828, Johann Meier was only 3 years old and had a one year old sister. They lived with his father and mother, who were newly married, and with his grandfather and grandmother. In this scenario, there were three adult couples and two children. Johann's father Matthias also had two unmarried brother who undoubtedly lived with the family until 1847 when this youngest son of Michael Meier (not much older than Johann Meier) married a widow from Freudenberg and went to live there for the rest of his life.

In the 1860s, as I said in the previous post, there were four (sometimes five or six) adults and five children in the living area of this very small barnhouse.

That led Herr Meyer to contact me and point out some possible misconceptions on my part. It was obvious I pictured eight to ten people shoe-horned into tiny rooms on the first floor. His ideas made a great deal of sense and helped me understand how a family with a very small barnhouse managed to live together in what seemed an impossibly small space.

To make it easier for me (and you) to envision the house from its front, I have turned the diagram of the house plan to show just where the front of the house was located. It is easy to forget that the front of the house did not border the large main Saarburger street that ran the length of the building and the length of a good part of the village. Instead, it faced a smaller side street - a street that does not exist today.

The following are the thoughts sent to me by Herr Meyer after he had read my February blog post. They completely reoriented my thinking, and my plans for describing the Meier family's living quarters as I continue to write their story:

"The building owned by Johann Meier in 1860 reached to the street in front of the house. In the picture (which was taken in 2011) a car is parked there. On the ground floor there was house, barn and stable. You have correctly determined that the house was quite small for all the Meiers. This applies to the ground floor. There, the interior dimensions of the living space is so small that there was scarcely place to live. I suspect, therefore, that there were also rooms on the upper floor, which passed over the stable. It even had the advantage that these spaces were, due to the underlying stable floor, heated! In comparison with the attached neighboring houses on the street, the building of the Meiers was small."

Now I could understand how as many as ten adults and as many as five children had managed to live in the small space at one time or another. And because I often forget just which people lived in this small dwelling in 1828 and 1860, here is the list of family members who probably resided in the house for those two specific years:

House of Michael Meier 1828/1829
Michael Meier, property owner
Magdalena Steffes Meier, wife of Michael
Matthias Meier, eldest son of Michael and Magdalena Meier
Maria Margaretha Weber Meier, wife of Matthias
Michael Meier, second son of Michael and Magdalena Meier
Peter Meier, third son of Michael and Magdalena Meier
Johann Meier, first son of Matthias and Maria Margaretha Meier
Anna Meier, first daughter of Matthias and Maria Margaretha Meier

House of Johann Meier 1860/61
Johann Meier, property owner
Magdalena Rauls Meier, wife of Johann Meier
Matthias Meier, eldest son of Johann and Magdalena Meier
Anna Meier, eldest daughter of Johann and Magdalena Meier
Anna Maria Meier, second daughter of Johann and Magdalena Meier
Johann Meier, second son of Johann and Magdalena Meier
Michael Meier, third son of Johann and Magdalena Meier
Matthias Meier, father of Johann Meier
Michael Meier, uncle of Johann Meier

The Meiers lived in a small structure compared to those of many of their neighbors. They had no place for a garden near the house, their two garden plots were far away. If they had a rough bench where they could sit on a Sunday or on a rare day when their farm work was finished before it was time to get a little sleep and start working all over again, that bench was in the road. And if I guess correctly, so was the manure pile. In spite of those almost impossible living conditions, the family was able to dream and to find their way to a new land. But meanwhile, in the interests of my further orientation, here are two maps from the http://www.irsch-saars/denkmaeler.htm.de website which show the street names and the buildings and monuments known to the Meiers while they lived in Irsch.

Meier farm stood near No. 7

The Meiers lived near the Catholic Church
on the Saarburger Straße

The Building That Was Left Behind

2011-02-26T12:55:00.015-06:00

Getting near to hallowed ground in 2004

Every time I came to Irsch - from the 1980s to my last visit in fall of 2010 - I passed the place where my ancestral home once stood. Part of it, greatly changed over time, was still there. But I had no idea I was walking or driving past what was, for me, hallowed ground.

I had asked about records that would show the location of Johann and Magdalena Meier's house many times over the years and was always told that those records no longer existed. In a village that had seen severe destruction from the time of Napoleon to World War II, I had to accept the idea that I would never know where my Meier (or Hauser, Schawel, or Weber) ancestors had actually lived.

I also thought that I had exhausted the resources in the Koblenz Archive when I found great-great- grandfather Meier's and Hauser's emigration documents. But that was definitely not the case. That Archive has so much more to offer - if you know how to look. A genealogy friend told me about a researcher friend in Germany who used the Archive documents regularly and about the possibility of additional records. She encouraged me to write him and ask him if he would do a search for me when he next visited the Archive. He graciously agreed. That was in about July of last year.

Just back from my trip to Germany in September and October 2010, I retrieved my mail and found a package full of documents from the Archive. It had been sent by the German researcher. There were Kataster maps of Irsch and Zerf, or what we here in Wisconsin would call plat maps. There were also pages of tax lists. They dated from approximately 1829. The Kataster maps showed not only numbered land holdings, but also tiny sketches of each house in the village. It was possible to see the shape and relative size of each dwelling including the barn-house where Johann and Magadalena, my 2nd great grandparents had lived just before they came to Wisconsin!

No. 4091- Barn House of Matthias Meier in 1829, future home of Johann Meier and Magdalena Rauls Meier

That was exciting but would not have been as much help without the tax documents which came with the maps. The copies of tax lists gave the size of each land parcel by number, told what type of land it was, the name of the area in which it lay (Beim Holzapfel Baum, In Der Wolfshek), and showed the tax rate for each piece of land, no matter how small. I matched Kataster number to Prussian tax number, and found the pieces of land owned by my Meier and Rauls ancestors in 1828-9, including their dwelling.

Herr Ewald Meyer of Irsch, who has always been a wonderful help to me, is able to read the old German handwriting, and once more I counted on his aid. I sent copies of the documents to him, knowing that he would be able to read the difficult handwriting on the tax lists and also hoping that there might be a place in Irsch and Zerf to keep this duplicate information as an example of what a wealth of family history information can be found at the Archive in Koblenz.

E-mails began to fly back and forth. I learned that the Meier family had pasture land, two small garden plots (neither close to the house they lived in) some fallow land - 19th century Germany used the three field system at this time - and one small field of "wild land/hedges." Herr Meier, analysing the total land ownership in 1829 of Matthias Meier, Johann's father, came to the conclusion that he was a "small farmer" known as a Kleinbauer. He had barely enough land to feed his family and probably owned very little livestock -- perhaps a cow or two and a pig. To pay the taxes on the land, most Kleinbauern like Matthias had to have a second way to make a living, perhaps as a small-time craftsman such as a tailor or barge puller.

I thought my knowledge of the area couldn't get any better than that - but it did.

Remains of the Barn House of Johann Meier today

As always, Herr Meyer went the extra distance - and then some. Soon after he got my package of documents, I received e-mail pictures of the part of the dwelling - the storage barn and the stable - which exists today in highly remodeled form. It is owned by the family across the street, even though it stands wall to wall with the home of another Irsch resident. The Fisch family uses the former home of my ancestors for storage of wood, tractors, and other equipment. This remodel was done sometime after I visited Irsch in the 1980s. Because of the German love of order and paperwork, there were documents which spanned the time of the first remodel in 1927 and, after a visit from Herr Meyer, Herr Fisch, the current owner, was willing to give them over for scanning. You can imagine my excitement when the e-mail scans arrived in my mailbox.

First the building of today. Notice the wall without windows in the new storage building. That was the length of the Meier family's living space - and the width of their quarters was about one-third of that length. According to my calculations, there could hardly be more than three rooms on the first floor; and each room on the first and second floors would have been about 6 feet by 7 feet in size. Have you ever felt your kitchen or bedroom was too small? It is probably palatial by these standards.

Diagram of the Barnhouse of Johann Meier in Irsch

The three colors on the diagram indicate remodel plans by Michael Britten in 1927 (red) and the later remodel (green) by the neighbor across the street, Herr Fisch.

Also notice the size of the stall area and the storage barn, (Stall und Scheune) compared to the size of the family's living quarters.

There was also a diagram for the walls and roof of the house. You can see that in the last remodeling of the barn area; that is, the stable and storage, the top of the roof was reshaped and now has the flatter roof one can see in the current photo taken in 2011. Before that time, there was a second floor for the living quarters. A little more than a year before they applied for permission to come to America, Johann and Magdalena Meier had five children, and it is likely that Johann's father Matthias and his unmarried uncle Michael also lived in the house with them.

view of the buildings from the main street

It seems that by 1927, the part of the structure that had been the living quarters was in very bad condition and at that time was rebuilt by Michael Britten and combined with the storage area.

The living quarters faced the side street off of the larger main road

The final site plan shows an unusual land pattern. The land on which the Meier dwelling sat had been divided into three separate plots: house, stable, and storage areas - each have their own site number. Did Johann and Magdalena have a difficult time selling their dwelling and barn before they left for America and divided the lot for a quicker sale? Another idea to be considered for my novel.

The building that was left behind saw its worst time in 1945 because of its unfortunate location near the German defense line set up to stop the invading WWII Allied troops if they managed to cross the Saar River.

American GI walks where once Johann and Magdalena lived

History ebbs and flows, changing destruction into renewal, enmity into friendship and, with luck; it allows families, once divided by unhappy circumstance, reconnection in future generations. I feel privileged to be part of such a reconnection.

Sources:

Landeshauptarchiv Koblenz, Kataster 001_Best.737 Nr.164 Bl.103 tif; Cataster 002_Best.737 Nr.164 Bl.103 tif;

Catastral-Steuer, Mutter-Rolle für die Catastral-Steuer der Gemeinde Irsch

Photo collection of Ewald Meyer, Irsch

Ring Joyfully, Oh Bells

2011-01-24T21:15:00.013-06:00

Millet's painting, "The Angelus"

The Sound of the Bells.

In the 19th century, the bells of Catholic churches throughout Germany and the rest of Europe, rang each day to call people to religious observances of many kinds.

The painting above is simply called "The Angelus" and reflects a religious custom as it was observed in France at the time of the artist, Jean-Francois Millet. Three times a day - in the early morning, at noon, and finally in the late afternoon or early evening, people were called to prayer by the bell/s in the tower of the church.

Because the bell was such an important part of the religious observances of the people and also a reminder to them of the presense of God in their daily lives, the Mabilon bell foundry in the little town of Saarburg played a major role in the history of our ancestors.

The Mabilon Bell Factory in Saarburg

The Mabilon Family of Bell Makers

From 1770 on, the Mabilon bell factory produced the bells not only for bell towers in the surrounding villages but also for large churches all over Germany and beyond. It was still a functioning bell foundry in 2002 when I lived in a nearby rental apartment for three weeks; but it had stopped production and become a unique museum by the time I returned in 2004. The youngest descendant of this family of bell makers was ready to retire and there was no one to continue the production of Mabilon foundry bells. Yet the buildings remained open to give visitors a chance to experience the complexity of a trade and art form that was fast disappearing all over Europe.

The Mabilon family of bell makers dates back to the 16th Century in Anjou, France. By 1770, Urbanus Mabilon had established a permanent place for his bell foundry - in Saarburg outside the city walls. This is where his descendants continued to make bells for more than 230 years, never revealing the secret of the art of the shape and sound of a Mabilon bell.

The site for his bell factory was the long street called simply "Staden." It was a location that boasted proximity to the Saar River ports of the barge makers of the town. The site provide easier transportation of the finished bells and also close proximity to the barges loaded with the coal and ore he needed delivered to do the firing of each bell. The clay deposits on the opposite side of the river gave Mabilon much of the material he used in the making of the bells. Urbanus Mabilon married Anna Maria Stocky, the daughter of the Saarburg bell-maker Johann Wilhelm Stocky, and the marriage united the two bell-making families.

St. Antonius in Trier

The Mabilon foundry cast bells for major churches, such as the five bells for the parish church of St. Anthony in Trier; and also for the small village churches such as Schoden, Palzem, Piesport and Wincheringen. Urbanus introduced rich Rococo bell decorations and often added the bell and cannon seal from his coat of arms.

The Bell Foundry Museum

Although the last bell was cast in 2003, the Saarburg workshop looks as if the master and his helpers are just taking a short break. It is, in fact, Germany’s only bell foundry museum.

Because of the foundry's perfect state of preservation, it is a unique historical witness to its era. When the church and chapel bells ring in the towns and in the countryside, few are aware of how much skill and craftsmanship, care and effort, are involved in casting a bell. The art of the bell maker, practiced by only a few today, is one of the most exceptional and most time-honored professions, and one which the famous German poet, Friedrich Schiller honored with his world famous poem” The Song of the Bell.”

"What in this pit, with hidden powers
the hands with help of fire create.
High up in yonder belfrey-tower,
will speak of us in tones elate."

The Bell Mold is Prepared

Schiller's lines of poetry are better understood when one learns the skill that goes into the making of a bell. The core or inside of a bell is prepared with semicircular bricks, which are coated with clay. The core is formed with the help of wooden" ribs" in the shape of the bells profile. Once finished, the core mirrors the interior of the bell.

Bell molds

The core is dried by a fire, which is lit underneath its hollow inside. Then the shapers or molders, who normally are highly trained experts, apply the second layer of clay from which they form, with the aid of the template, a complete model bell which is also known as the" false" bell. This is followed by another thick layer of clay which forms the cope or outer mold. After all three parts are completely dry, a pulley is used to hoist up the cope.

The false bell is now carefully broken up and the pieces removed. This is relatively easy to do as a coating of graphite or wax had been applied between the individual layers of clay. Finally, the exterior cope is placed over the core again. In the place where the false bell used to be is now a cavity into which the molten metal can be poured.

For decoration, mirror images of ornamental inscriptions and pictures made of bees wax are applied to the "false" bell-layer, thus leaving their imprint on the inside of the cope. Later they appear clearly visible on the outside of the finished bell.

The finished bell mould consisting of core and cope is then dug firmly into the earth of the casting pit in order to prevent the invlowing metal from breaking the mould. By the time the form is firmly covered and embedded in the earth, the bell-metal, composed of 78 parts of copper and 22 parts of tin, is already melting in the furnace.

The Religious Ceremony when the Bell is Cast

The casting itself is a dignified and moving event. The clergyman who ordered the bell and members of his parish gather around the casting pit during the bell casting. Just above the fireplace is a niche. A candle burns next of the statue of St. Joseph – an unbroken tradition since time immemorial. A dignified silence reigns; instructions are given in low voices already reflecting the atmosphere in which the bell will soon perform its duty.

Meanwhile, the craftsmen have taken up their positions at the casting. Clay-made gutters and canals lead from the furnace to the individual bands of the bell mold. Everything is prepared for casting. In the dim light of the workshop the priest and the master bell makers say short prayer asking God to bless the men’s work and make the cast a success.

Then with the words “in God’s name” the master bell maker knocks the plug out and the freed white hot glowing mass finds its way, bubbling and sizzling, to the bell mold under the earth. In a muted voice the master gives the few necessary instructions to his helpers. Hissing, the hot air escapes in a blue green flame through the “windpipe” of the mould. Within a few minutes the cast is completed. A gurgling sound indicates that the cavity left by the “false bell” is now filled with the molten metal. A grateful prayer and a moment of silence complete the casting, a truly unique experience.

It takes a few days for the mold to cool enough for the bell to be removed from the pit. When it first appears it is still black and unsightly, but with the help of some sand and water it soon gains a beautiful silver grey gloss. Only the clapper needs to be attached and the bell is ready for installation, but not before the bell expert concludes his expertise on the accuracy and pureness of the desired tones, ensuring that the bell is a real tribute to the master, his helpers, and their skills.

Sources:
Information sheet from Museum Bell Foundry Mabilon, Staden 130, Saarburg

Saarburg: Little Venice on the Saar River, http://flyhahn.com/cities/Saarburg-travel-guide.htm#topnav

1000 Jahre Saarburg, 964-1964, Buchdruckerei Wilhelm Rassier
Schiller's "The Song of the Bell and other Poems," translated by Thomas C. Zimmerman

Christmas Legend of the Tailor's Needle

2010-12-10T18:10:00.169-06:00

On my visit to Kreis Saarburg this autumn, I couldn't resist exploring the book and pamphlet collection of my vacation apartment. As I expected, there were stacks of brochures about the attractions of the area and discarded paperback books left behind by former tenants. But there was an unexpected treasure trove.

Frau Hedwig Hoffmann, owner with her husband of the vacation apartment, was born in Saarburg and during a part of her working life, was a bookseller in a book and stationery shop on the most scenic street in the city. A few of her own books, loaned to my apartment's bookshelves, showed it. I found some wonderfully eclectic titles including a collection of “new old fairy tales.” The author modeled her tales on fables and stories from various places around Germany and created a more timely and charming book for children - and I couldn't resist the title or the idea that I would be able to read it without constant searches of my German dictionary.

Vacation apartment table

One tale, of a Trier tailor and his needle, delighted me and also seemed so appropriate for a blog post at Christmas time. When I finished reading it, I sat at the dining room table in "my" apartment, set up my Netbook computer, and typed a summary of the timeless story with its simple wisdom; then saved it to be reread, reworked and posted in December.

THE STORY OF THE CHRISTMAS NEEDLE

There was a master tailor in Trier, Schneidermeister Krautscheid, who lived at the end of the 18^th century. He had inherited a sewing needle from his father who in turn had inherited it from his father – a family tradition that perhaps went back to 1356 in Trier when the first record about a Tailors' Guild of 46 men is documented.

Tailor in the 1800s

Schnidermeister Krautscheid lived at a time when conditions for most tailors were not good. They often suffered times of poverty. Even though they had journeymen and apprentices, they had a hard time making ends meet. In summer, with longer days, they often worked 13 hours at their jobs, but this was not possible when winter came and the days were very short. Darkness came early and candles were expensive. In Trier there were 61 Master Tailors in the Guilds. To have enough work for all of those men and their helpers was rare. Many were in debt and unhappy with their conditions and the hand that the society of the time dealt them.

It was also at this time that the French Revolution and the storming of the Bastille were taking place. In Trier, some of that indignation was felt; and the tailor, though a small man, felt the need to challenge the authorities. He went out banging his drum as workers and Masters from all the guilds began a revolution of their own. The authorities made promises; and the men of Trier, not really revolutionaries at heart, went back to their work, including Herr Krautscheid, our master tailor.

Christmas was coming, and he had only a few days left to finish some jerkins, a contract he was glad to have. By Christmas Eve, his workers said he had the eyes of an owl to go on working when it was dark and the Christmas celebration was about to begin. They left their Master, as was allowed by the Guild.

One of the young apprentices, as he was leaving, felt sorry for his master. The tailor's wife had died and his children had gone off on their own. He gently told the old man it would be such a good thing if he would take in a cat or a dog for company, especially during this holiday. "I'm not alone" growled the old man, "I have my needle" – and indeed it was like a third hand to him. As he sewed with it, he and the needle shared memories of past work, as one does with a friend.

The old tailor had a jerkin for the Burgermeister to make, a job that had to be finished in time for the mayor to wear it to the Silvester (New Year's Eve) Dance. One should not disappoint a man of importance if he knows what is good for him.

Mother and Child

Each night, the tailor stuck his precious needle in a piece of silk cloth and laid it on his pillow. But when he awoke on Christmas morning, the needle was not there. The tailor searched the bedclothes piece by piece, carefully examined every bit of the floor, but the needle was nowhere to be found. Without it, he was desperate. He believed it would be impossible to finish the jerkin on time without his needle and then he would no long receive the contracts which kept him in his business.

He hurried to the Christmas Matins service where he stared for a long time at the Christmas nativity scene. The mother of Jesus held her baby in her arms. Both she and the child were protected by a large blanket secured in place by a sewing needle. The longer the tailor looked at the scene, the more sure he was that this was his own precious needle which somehow had come to Mary and now was the only thing that was holding the blanket around the pair and thereby keeping the mother and babe warm.

At first he wanted to have his friend, the needle, back with him. But the more he looked, the more he realized that the needle had a more important purpose; it protected a mother and child from suffering in the cold. His heart grew happy, and he softly whispered to Mary and her baby, the Savior of the world, that he gave his needle willingly and freely with a loving heart. He knelt from early to late before the nativity scene all that Christmas day.

The next morning, he went to his workshop to try to finish the Mayor's jerkin before the deadline, but it lay there finished with beautifully sewn stitches. His needle was in the collar of the jerkin, glowing at him.

For it is true what is said, "he who gives freely, gets even more in return."

Sources:

Neue Märchen aus Stadt und Land by Annette Craemer
The Christmas needle legend is adapted from the chapter called "Das Trierer Schneiderhandwerk" in Trierisches Handwerk von der Vorzeit bis heute by Richard Laufner

A Very Special Tour and Tour Guide

2010-11-30T15:56:00.139-06:00

My vacation apartment's door (Erdenbach Strasse, Saarburg) is to the left of the garage door.

As I told you in September, I was planning to do some novel writing. In the interests of home safety, I did not mention that I had reserved a vacation apartment in the city of Saarburg Germany as a wonderful way to inspire chapters for my novel. A wise woman once told me that to improve my inspiration, I should go to my home villages, sit on the ground, and listen while they talked to me. I'm a bit too old and my back is too touchy to do that literally, but I found that once I was in Saarburg, ideas for chapters came into my mind very easily - unlike the puzzlement I was experiencing at home.

What I hadn't reckoned with was the number of friends and acquaintances I have made in my past trips to Kreis Saarburg. There was German hospitality being offered to me from the moment I arrived until the day before I left for home. I had pictured myself busily writing most of my days in the city. Instead, I was often having coffee and Kuchen.

On a sunny Sunday, I had a very special tour with a very special tour guide, Ewald Meyer, author of a published history of Irsch and Beurig. He has been helping me ever since the first day I met him in 2002. He was also the person who urged me to come back to Germany, offering to again help me with any local research trips I might want to make.

Ewald Meyer, Tour Guide

The tour began in the Beurig's cemetery. Those who are not family historians will think that a strange place to begin a tour - I did not. Beurig, about a mile from Irsch, is Ewald's birthplace. In the Catholic cemetery I saw for myself the impressive monument to Herr Bürgermeister Bodem which I had written about in Sept. 2009, "Herr Burgermeister Bodem and his angel." The monument was even bigger than it looked in the picture.

We also visited smaller monuments to deceased officials of the Prussian Government, such as the district foresters and game wardens.

A forester's grave monument

Unlike ordinary citizens who had (and still have) only a limited number of years to own their cemetery plots, these 19th century Prussian officials still keep their grave sites and monuments in the cemetery today, even if the family line has ceased to exist.

As we drove through the village of Beurig which is now considered a part of Saarburg, Ewald pointed out Herr Bürgermeister Bodem's very impressive, somewhat Victorian-looking house. Evidently finding favor with the Prussian government could be monetarily as well as socially and politically important. Burdensome taxes were levied on the farmers and dayworkers, but even officials and the well-to-do didn't escape taxation. Houses, including those of Herr Bürgermeister Bodem and his wealthy neighbors were taxed on the number of their chimneys. Clearly, these houses were designed to show the status of their owners; men wealthy enough to have more than one fireplace. The office of the Mayor was near the railroad station on the site of today's employment office. The mayor's office was moved there from its earlier location in the village of Irsch in 1833, shortly after Herr Bodem was appointed Bürgermeister in 1832.

As I described in my post July post, (From Bishop's Crosier to Napoleonic Flag), before the time of Napoleonic and then Prussian rule, the farmers, craftsmen, and day workers of Irsch, Beurig and the surrounding villages were governed by the Prince/Archbishop Electors of Trier and then Koblenz. I had known that the peasant classes paid their "taxes" in the form of produce and farm animals, but not the specifics. Herr Meyer explained that after the harvest, usually around St. Martin's Day in November, about 10 per cent of a farmer's crops and animals were sent to their Archbishop. Wagon loads of "taxes" from the villages of the area were sent to the church estate at the edge of the Saar where today's Hotel Keller stands. There they were housed until they could be sent, by barge, to Trier or Koblenz--depending on the location of the Archbishop Elector of the time.

Today's Hotel Keller in Beurig on the Saar

In a year when the harvest was very bad, the peasant farmer paid his dues in the form of Frondienst; that is, as enforced service to a Fronherr or lord in lieu of produce. Probably in this region, the "lord" was a high official of the church or the manager designated by the abbot of a monastery.

From Beurig, our tour went on to the Catholic Church in Irsch. The newly refurbished church retains an altar from the 19th century to one side, but the main altar is modern. Several statues from my ancestors' time also remain in various locations in the church.

Historic Side Altar

Choir view of newly remodeled church

Back on our tour, Herr Meyer pointed out a raised plateau just outside the city limits call the Feuerstatt. That innocent-looking field was the place where four people accused of witchcraft and found guilty by the Catholic church inquisition, were burned in the 1630s. One of the women was a midwife. She would also have used herbs and potions to try to heal disease, making her a prime target for stories of sorcery and probably blamed for the illness or death of a fellow villager. None of those burned were from Irsch; three were from the small wine village of Filzen and midwife Barbelen came from Kommlingen.

We peered at the buildings in the oldest part of the village, known as An der Wey, with narrow streets that resemble alleyways. Here and there, parts of out-buildings made of lime, stones, dab and wattle, have stood the ravages of time and are now combined as part of later reconstructions. It is a blending of old and new that testifies to the age of the village, which shows up in records as early as 957.

We also drove through the district of Irsch which at one time was a separate section known as Biest. It was larger than Irsch until the fire of 1842 in which the area was almost totally destroyed and was rebuilt as a part of Irsch.

As with all tours, an end comes. But I was luckier than most tourists. I was to have "a coffee" with my tour guide. I was invited to the Meyer home where Helena Meyer waited to welcome me.

Coffee and Kuchen with the Meyers

Above is a fruit torte (grapes, mandarine oranges, and raspberries), baked and served by Helena Meyer after our afternoon tour of Beurig and Irsch. It was as good as it looks.

If I could, I would appoint Herr Ewald Meyer as the official historian and tour guide for the villages of Irsch and Beurig and Frau Helena Meyer as a five-star baker of Kreis Saarburg.

Source
Conversation with Ewald Meyer and information from his books, Irsch/Saar: Geschichte eines Dorfes, and Beuriger Lese - und Bilderbuch, co-authored by Bernd Gehlen

Prussian Officials - Small town

2010-10-07T08:32:00.010-05:00

As I told you, in the next few weeks I will give you snippets of information that come my way as I do my "authoring."

I found this very interesting. Prussian city and village officials of the mid 1800s wore uniforms, especially for significant events. Therefore, the Mayor Herr Bodem of Beurig/Irsch would have appeared at official functions in a blue uniform, short jacket with epauletttes and a tricorne hat I associate with the French Napoleonic times. The two hats were similar - except that the Prussian eagle, which irreverent men of Kreis Saarburg called the "Cuckoo," was the symbol that often decorated the Prussian tricorne.

Picture taken at Trier's Simeonstift Museum

From Blogging Time to Novel Time

2010-09-08T17:46:00.004-05:00

Social history on my bookshelves

The day to get back to the novel has come! I've been writing background material since 2005, over five years! I've used some of the books on the shelf in this picture as well as many other titles to put as much social history into my blog as possible.

This blog was always meant to form the historical underpinnings for my novel. With a great deal of that work done, I've decided to get back to my novel writing - at least for a month or two.

However, the blog is not completely on hold. As I write, I anticipate that there will be times when I need to scan through my books and paper files for additional information. If that happens, as I know it will, I will share those nuggets of history and custom with you. Check in now and then to see.

Women's crowning glory - hide it or decorate it?

2010-08-22T22:04:00.006-05:00

Toiling girls wearing scarves or caps with a virtue arrow clearly seen

When was the last time you wore a hat - one that was part of your indoor dress - to a social function, to church or to any event? We women who live in the northern climates wear hats or tams or caps or perhaps earmuffs to keep our heads and ears warm on the cold days of winter, and we may wear a straw hat at the beach in summer or when we are working outside on a hot and sunny day. Such was not the case for our ancestors in the 19th century Rhineland. A head covering and/or ornaments for a woman's hair was a part of daily living. While weather related conditions might have caused a need for the cap or bonnet, it also identified a woman's place--married or single, upper or lower class, and even what area she came from.

Women's Headware

The largest number of head coverings were worn by women, especially because of the Catholic church's interpretation of St. Paul's letter to the Corinthians about women covering their heads to show respect. While the upper classes were not so earnest about the tradition of head covering, especially when not attending church, women who lived in small villages were very diligent about it and almost always wore head coverings of some kind until almost the end of the 19th century - even though the hoods and bonnets of that day were actually a derivative of pagan head coverings worn in ancient times.

The women from the small villages of the Saar, Hunsrück and Eifel wore a simple bonnet usually made of blue colored calico with velvet-like fastening. It was drawn back in folds and covered almost the entire head. Only a bit of hair was revealed - hair combed flat at the forehead and occasionally a little hair showing at the back of the neck.

Younger women were allowed to go without much headcovering but older women without covered hair, especially in the early centuries, were looked at as witches and this carried over into the 1800s in rural areas. So women who deliberately went without a hat may have been making a statement about their disregard for convention. While an uncovered head was allowed for the young woman, uncovered hair gave an older woman almost a witch-like aura.

To defend themselves against being considered shameless, some married women, especially in the middle and upper classes, came up with ways that some hair could be shown. The hair was braided or bound together at the back, held in place with a wide pointed decorative hair pin and a net covering. A wide band of material, which covered most of the top of the head, was then tied under the chin in imitation of the usual cap of the married woman.

Until the end of the 19th century, a form of the extra-wide hair pin with its ornamentation was also used by unmarried women to hold their artfully twisted braids in the shape of a bun. One that was seen in many parts of the Rhineland was the Tugendpfeil, a "virtue arrow." The virtue arrow was worn by young, unmarried women or sometimes by a spinster. This custom declined gradually during the1800s and had ended by the end of the 19th century. When a maiden married, the virtue arrow was no longer worn but rather replaced by the full bonnet.

The picture here is a detail from a painting by August Gustav Lasinsky in 1847. (The full painting shows a group of pilgrims on their way to view the Holy Robe in Trier, which is still reverenced as the robe Christ wore at his crucifixion). The woman in the foreground wears the "Virtue arrow."

In a Small Rural Village

A typical village woman from the Saarburg area probably would own the following head coverings: A simple cap without adornment, a decorated bonnet, a woven hat of straw or other material, and a scarf.

The scarf was folded so that it had three corners. The tip would fall over the woman's back and the other two corners would be tied at the neck. In the Saargau, women wore a black knitted or crocheted scarf with a tip that had the look of a tail handing down the back. It was appropriately called the Schwanztuch (tail cloth). In the Eifel the scarf was worn over a simple white cap. A Stecknadel or sticking pin kept the scarf from slipping from the cap. A young unmarried woman who wore just a hair net or hair pin to hold her braids in a roll, tied the scarf directly to her head (note painting above). And many young women preferred wearing a figured red cloth bandana or handkerchief. Headscarves were made of wool, cotton or linen. A white scarf was used for fieldwork. It was tied in such a way that it shadowed and protected the face from the sun.

In the Hunsruck, the cotton woman's cap was very popular. The simple cap, usually of cotton or calico, was colorful, usually blue. It was fastened under the chin. A bell-shaped bonnet, often trimmed with shirring or with lace was worn on Sundays and holidays. There might be modest decoration, but the use of artificial flowers, beads and silk ribbons was rarely seen. Unlike the everyday cap, bonnets were not so tightly fitted around the head.

In the City

The women of the larger towns, the Bürgerin, had rather simple hairstyles, but clever maids who had a flair for fashioning hair into a fresh variations were in demand in the early part of the century. One of the hairstyles worn by the middle class during this period was complex twisting of the hair which was wound low on the neck and held in place with a decorative comb or two. There might also be puffs of hair styled over the ears, and the hair might be mixed with flowers, pearls or even feathers for ladies of the upper classes. Some women also wore curls on the forehead in the English fashion.

The comb to hold the hair in place was worn by all classes of women but it hardly ever showed in the hair of the women from the small villages because they covered the comb with their bonnets. The middle and especially the upper class women who did not always wear their hair covering, might wind their hair around at the back of the neck and hold it in place with a comb at the top. Young women of this class would curl their hair and push it back behind their ears. Older women had to be a bit more circumspect, wearing combs to keep any curls under strict control.

At the beginning of the 19th century, the older women at the usually wore what was called a "German cap," a bonnet which had one or more rows of pleating at the very edge of the bonnet. If the woman was from the upper or middle class, these pleats might be made of fine lace. The bonnet sat well forward on the head, almost shading the forehead and was tied at the chin. These were considered very old-fashioned by younger women. French women looked down on the German cap, as this kind of head covering had completely gone out of fashion in France, which even then, set the styles. Already, some women in the larger Rhineland cities were wearing the "Capote," a hat with a wide brim that shaded the face and could be trimmed with flowers and jeweled trims.

Katharina Maria Dausch geb. Klotz 1786-1842
oil painting by Ludwig Neureuter 1829
In the Simeonstift Museum, Trier

While the bonnets and caps of the German woman of the 1800s have long since gone to museums, there are days when these head coverings would have their advantages. A Rhineland village woman would not know the frustration of a "bad hair day."

From Bishop's Crosier to Napoleonic Flag to Prussian Eagle

2010-07-18T15:27:00.007-05:00

The Palace of the Archbishop/Elector of Trier

As we know, there was no Germany as such until the 20th Century. Instead there was a so-called German Empire made up of large to very small territories ruled by kings and dukes and both civil and religious princes, called "Electors." The governance of the villages of Irsch, Serrig, Zerf, and Oberzerf, for instance, was in the hands of an elector who was one of the princes of the church. In effect, the peasants who lived in the small villages and worked the land had an Archbishop as their ruler. The residence of the Archbishop went back and forth over the years between Koblenz and Trier, but in his book about Irsch, Ewald Meyer points out that the Trier was always the spiritual center for these villages. The monasteries or churches of the Trier Diocese were the intermediaries of the Archbishop and governed in much the same way as the civil authorities who served the civil electors of other Germanic kingdoms or territories.

The line between secular and spiritual was almost non-existant for most of our Rhineland ancestors until 1792 when Napoleon conquered the territory and enlarged the country of France to include Trier and Saarburg along with all the villages along the Saar and the Mosel Rivers and all the land in between. France had the Rhine River as its new border and a multitude of new subjects who spoke only German. While the idea of "Freedom, Equality and Brotherhood," the slogan of the French revolution was something that many of the new French/German subjects admired, they missed their old spiritual home as Napoleon began to secularize life in this new part of France.

It was a shock to his German-speaking subjects to learn that Napoleon had developed his own calendar. Sunday was abolished and its replacement, Dekadentag, was introduced; now every tenth day was a day of rest. In place of the Christian holidays there were secular celebrations. Processions, such as the those of Corpus Christi and Good Friday were prohibited. This situation continued until the Pope and Napoleon reached an agreement or Concordat in 1801. Faith and religion were again recognized.

However, there were still significant changes. Irsch, for instance, became a "secular parish:" that is, it no longer was under the power of a prince/archbishop. The parish pastor was appointed with the approval of the Civil Prefect and the Bishop had to take an oath to the Constitution. Among the new civil authorities there was hostility to the Church and its former powers. Thus there were newly established Civil Registry offices. Civil marriage was introduced and required. The clergy had to take the oath to the French Republic, and the pastors were instructed that the recording of births, marriages, and deaths, that had formerly been only the responsibility of the church, was now secondary to the creation of civil records.

In 1802 the monasteries and abbeys were dissolved, that is, their lands now belonged to France, not to the Catholic Church. Clerical dress was forbidden. For a time the "secular pastors" were expected to live on the offerings of the faithful, including small tithes or by means of citizen offerings of lambs, piglets, hay, flax or other core necessities. But by 1804, the Irsch pastor received 500 francs in state salary per year.

Irsch and Zerf now each had a Maire and a deputy who were assigned civic duties at the local level. Johann Baptist Britten of Irsch was appointed the first mayor of that village. In Zerf, a Herr Schneider was the first mayor. Though liberty, equality and fraternity were the ideals of the time, the governance under this ideal was far from free of charge. Rather, the taxes increased, and the burden became unbearable for the rural poor. The position of Maire was not a popular one, since his office was in charge of tax collection, sometimes enforced with penalties or even violence. Under these circumstances, anger grew as some of the wealthy used their power to buy monastic estate. They, rather than the Church, became the new "landlords.". While the big landowners could afford to have large windows in their buildings, cottages with their tiny windows provided sparse light for the impoverished villagers.

With the arrival of the allied armies in the Rhineland in 1814 and the Battle of Waterloo in 1815, Napoleon's downfall was sealed. The Maire now called himself the Bürgermeister, and the Municipal Council was now the Community Council. The first Paris Peace Treaty signed on May 30, 1814 returned France's border to its January 1, 1792 state.

For two years, part of the territory which France lost was divided between two powers. To the left of the Mosel River the Prussian Empire handled administration while the section of territory to the right of the Mosel fell under the control of the Österreichisch-Bayrischen (Austrian-Bavarian) coalition. This included the villages of Irsch, Serrig, and Zerf. It was not long, however, before the Prussian Empire claimed everything Napoleon had lost. According to Ewald Meyer's history of the village of Irsch, the Prussian Eagle was stamped on everything. There Prussian who originated in the north of Germany considered themselves "true Prussians. They looked down on these newly-conquered Prussian citizens who were sometimes referred to by their northern Prussia countrymen as "painted French."

The northern Prussians' contempt for its new "painted French" citizens was returned in kind by the residents of Kreis Saarburg. They called the Prussian Adler (eagle), symbol of the Prussian Empire, "the cuckoo."

Even today the Prussian Adler is considered a symbol of seizure or sequestration.

When I began my family history efforts many years ago, my Aunt Helen told me her grandfather, my great grandfather, who was born in Irsch, had been proud that he was Preußisch. Things change!

I, of course, didn't speak German then or know anything about German history. It took me awhile to realize that Prussian and Preußisch were one and the same.

Sources:
Ewald Meyer, Irsch/Saar: Geschichte eines Dorfes.
Edward Christofel, Der Hochwaldort am Fuße des Hunsrücks.

Two Churches Watched by the Eye of God

2010-06-05T23:40:00.585-05:00

Main Altar in Oberzerf Church

Today Zerf and Oberzerf are considered one municipality, even though they are more than a mile apart. But in the 1800s, Zerf and Oberzerf were distinct villages in Kreis Saarburg, each with its own Roman Catholic church, even though only one priest served both.

The main church was in the larger village of Zerf - as was the cemetery for both churches. I can only guess about the celebration of the daily and Sunday Masses for these two churches. My theory is that a daily Mass and Masses for special celebratory occasions such as Easter, Pentecost, Christmas Midnight Mass and the conferring of the Sacrament of Confirmation (requiring a Bishop) were all held in the larger Zerf church. The Chapel Church in Oberzerf may have had a Sunday mass each week, as well as wedding and funeral Masses for the residents of the village.

A Visit to the Chapel Church of Oberzerf

It was unusual that tiny Oberzerf had a place of worship all its own. My Oberzerf ancestors lived in one of the smallest of the Saarburg Kreis villages. They were fortunate to have a spiritual home so close to them - the place where even the poor, landless day worker or pig herder of Oberzerf could experience beauty, both sacred and temporal.

Magdalena Rauls, my 2nd great-grandmother, her parents, brothers, sisters and all of her relatives, neighbors and friends, lived in Oberzerf. The pastor of both the two churches lived in the parish house in Zerf. It was there that the villagers walked when they wanted permission to marry and have the banns of matrimony read, and it was from there that the pastor had to be summoned when one of the family required what the Catholic Church today calls "The Sacrament of the Dying."

The altar of the Oberzerf church which is pictured at the beginning of this post is thoroughly described in the Zerf history by Edgar Christoffel. It was a wooden high altar which had been designed and built about 1730 or a few years later. It was baroque in style with a large curved niche that held the tabernacle. Each side column had it's own capital supporting a pinnacle altar piece which stands above them. This apex has two columns, similar to the ones below, supporting a curved, carved top. A sunburst with a symbol of the eye of God fills its center. The wood was painted to resemble the marble this little parish could never have afforded.

On the window side of the church there was a stand holding a 60 cm high figure of Saint Hubertus. It was a hand carved oak baroque figure also dating from around 1730, about the time the old church was built. Hubertus is in the garb of a Bishop and holds a staff. His stole and garments are very finely worked. A hunting horn is in his left hand and a small animal figure with antlers in the form of a cross stands at his right. These things signified that he was the patron saint of hunters and foresters. Legend has it that Hubertus, a wealthy young noble, went off to hunt while most people in his town were at Good Friday services. He chased a stag which suddenly turned to face him. The animal had a cross between his antlers. Hubertus heard the voice of God telling him to quit his worldly ways or he would surely find himself in hell. Hubertus heeded the warning, becoming a saintly cleric and bishop, devoted to helping the poor.

The oldest statue in the Oberzerf church is thought to be that of St. Anthony of Padua, much venerated because he was the patron Saint of the poor. Its style is that of southern French statues in about the 1600's. The statue of St Anne with her daughter Mary, the mother of Christ, was also displayed and venerated.

An eight sided wood pulpit in the little church dated from 18th century. The chapel church was renovated in 1831, and a work, written in 1939 which described cultural landmarks of the region, called the Oberzerf Chapel Church a pleasing place to visit. Unfortunately, the church was extremely damaged in World War II and the church of today is from about 1960.

The Parish Church of Zerf

The main altar of the Catholic Church in Zerf from 1858?

The dominant Catholic church of the Zerf parish, located in what was then sometimes called Niederzerf (lower Zerf), was dedicated to St. Laurentius. References to a Catholic church located in Zerf were noted even before the 30 Year's War. The Niederzerf church was rebuilt or refurbished many times over the last several centuries. It is believed that those previous churches stood in the same location as the current church; a rocky hill that overlooks the valley where the Grossbach stream separates from the Ruwertal river.

By the 19th century, the Zerf church and bell tower from the previous century were once again badly in need of renovation. So in 1819-1820, construction of a new building was begun with a bell tower around 30 meters high. On May 26, 1830 the new church with its impressive tower was dedicated again to St. Laurentius but this time St. Sebastian was also included as a protector of the parish. The bishop who officiated at the consecration was Joseph von Hommer.

Almost 40 years later, in 1859, that tall bell tower experienced a fire and the top portion of the tower had to be rebuilt.

The altar in the picture above is somewhat similar to the one in the chapel church in Oberzerf. It is baroque in style though much bigger in size. As you can see in the photo, the top section of the altar also contained a symbolic representation of the eye of God. The University of Marsburg identifies the altar as one constructed in 1723. The description of the new altar from 1858 in Herr Christoffel's book as well as photos from the early years of the 20th century match the Marburg picture in almost every detail. Whether from the 18th or the 19th century, the handworked statues of St. Laurentius and St. Sebastian stood to each side of the central part of the altar piece.

It seems (if I have not misinterpreted a very complicated sentence construction from Herr Christofell's history of Zerf) that in the 1850's, the altar dating from the early 18th century which was from the St. Laurentius Church in Saarburg was sold to St. Laurentius parish in Zerf for a cost of 50 Taler, and that high altar was installed in Zerf. The 1858 altar was destroyed during WWII.

Several statues were described by Herr Christoffel, but I was unable to tell if they dated from the time my ancestors lived in Oberzerf. One important object that was a part of the church in their time was a baptismal font from 1838. It was made of sandstone and the pedestal portion shows an apple tree with a serpent wound around the trunk. The bowl of the font had perpendicular deep grooves and in each groove was carved a bell-shaped flower.

Conclusion

Perhaps it will seem that I have spent an inordinate amount of time describing the churches of my ancestors, but I think of it as plugging holes. I began this blog to organize my factual materials in order to find illusive facts when I was ready to write a detailed novel. I decided to share my material with anyone who chose to look for a topic which was also of interest to them.

I started my writing with the most general material. As I begin my sixth year of this blog, I'm capturing smaller and smaller details of the villages; and the books about the churches in the three Kreis Saarburg villages of my ancestors are filled with meaningful descriptions - for me. I do hope that these last three posts will give you an idea of the church structures that your own ancestors knew. With that in mind, let me refer you to an excellent source of pictures from the University of Marburg photo archive, with its 1.7 million pictures. It was the source of the picture of the main altar in Zerf and is the first source listed below. Perhaps you will find a picture of the church of your ancestors.

Sources: Pictures
http://www.fotomarburg.de/
http://www.roscheiderhof.de/kulturdb/client/index.php
Nico Haas Thomassin, Trier
Theo Hasse, Zerf.

Sources: Text
Christoffel, Edgar. Der Hochwaldort Zerf am Fuße des Hunrücks, Verlag W. Rassier, Saarburg, 1981

The Catholic Church in Irsch from Manuscripts and Pictures

2010-05-08T18:44:00.305-05:00

The Most Important Events Happen in God's House!

The small village church which my Meier, Hauser, Weber, Steffes, Schawel and Britten ancestors attended is still an active Catholic church today. The outside retains much of the appearance of the structure as it existed in the 1800s.

From the written sources available to me as well as the pictures below, I can ignore the modernized interior of the current Catholic Church in Irsch and visualize the heart of the older church as it was from 1806 until the Sunday that my great-great grandparents and their neighbors attended Sunday Mass there for the last time.

This was the structure that played such a large role in villagers' lives, a place that, even today, is filled with the spirit of all the religious ceremonies which have taken place inside the walls - baptisms, marriages, confirmations, feast days, and funerals. From pictures of and writings about the history of the 19th century church structure, and all the items it held, I am able to accompany my great-great grandmother Magdalena as she walks toward the altar with Johann Meier, her husband-to-be, on their wedding day. Or I can stand with my great-great grandfather as he views the coffin of his father and listens to the priest saying the prayers of the Requiem mass which beg God for the safe admittance of the soul of Michael Meier into eternal rest.

Some early photos and what books and manuscripts tell us about them.

According to a church history written by Father Markus Laser, Irsch pastor from 1969 to 1990, a major rebuilding of the original church took place in 1806, when the Emperor Napoleon ruled the people of the Saarburg District as their Emperor. Irsch and its neighboring villages were was longer a part of a conquered territory but rather they were situated within the new borders of France, and the French laws were also the laws of Irsch

So it is that in the archives of the church, an unusual document from that time was discovered. It acknowledged that the church was built while Irsch and the rest of Kreis Saarburg were ruled by the Emperor Napoleon. It then proclaimed that the people of Irsch would be honored and elated if Napoleon would deign to come to dedicate the new church. (Napoleon did not acede to the request). The document also invited the French Prefect of Trier to the parish Kermis celebration.

A second document, found in the old bell tower, listed the names of the 1806 pastor, Henry Schneider; the Mayor, J. B. Britten; the eleven village council leaders; and the builder, Matthias Funck of Saarburg, all most loyal subjects of the Empire of France.

A picture of the expanded 1806 church shows the bell tower built in 1052. The lean-to-style roof dates from the time of the first church expansion about 1450. From the cemetery at the side of the church, it was possible to see, through the trees, the house where the teacher/sexton Herr Romey lived and gave lessons. The church was rebuilt in a time of poverty and was only 75 feet long and 29 feet wide. It stood on a small hill, the 20 sandstone steps of a staircase leading up to it. The shape of the church remained basically the same until 1913 when it was renovated and made larger.

The interior of the 1806 church was in the style of a long hall with an inner ceiling which was flat except for rounding at the edges. The chancel area had two windows, one on each side of the sanctuary, and three Romanesque style windows which provided light for each side of the nave where the congregation gathered.

The main altar, small in size, was adorned with tall silver candlesticks and a carved wooden crucifix dating from the mid-1800s. The main altar displayed the statues of Sts. Gervasius and Protasius, the two saints to whom the church was dedicated.

While the Church takes its name from Sts. Gervasius and Protasius, the inclusion of two additional patrons for the Irsch church, Saints Sebastian and Lucia, took place about the 1700s according to Fr. Laser's history. It was a time of poverty, fire danger, and fear of the plague.

Saint Sebastian was condemned to death and shot with a multitude of arrows. However a Christian widow, attempting to take away his body for burial, discovered he was still alive. He quickly recovered and went on making converts to Christianity. The emperor Diocletian ordered him killed a second time, and so he was clubbed to death. He is the patron saint believed to protect people from the plague. A copper vessel within the Irsch church held the relics of Saint Sebastian according to a church document from 1808. In addition, a fraternal flag of St. Sebastian was displayed inside the church; and the Brotherhood of St. Sebastian met four times a year, with its members coming from neighboring parishes to celebrate and to pray together in Irsch.

St. Lucia, an early Christian, was condemned to death for taking money without permission from her pagan fiance and giving it to the poor. This was discovered, and Lucia was sentenced to be burned to death, but the young woman was untouched by the flames. When it was clear that fire could not harm her, her throat was cut. Thus she became the patron saint of firefighters and of the poor.

Here is an undated picture of church interior, probably taken after the 1913 renovation. The cross described below, which had hung above the main altar in the oldest of the Irsch churches was moved to the right wall next to the pulpit.

A major addition to the 1913 church was the tall bell tower at the front of the church. A typical Saar house/barn stands next door to the church in the second picture. The area to the left side of the church today is a parking lot. But in this photo, it seems to be a garden area, probably belonging to the pastor of the church. The pastor's residence stands unseen, just out of view at the left of the picture. The church cemetery too is is out of view at the right rear of the church. But it is clearly visible in the picture of the 1806 building above.

Two Treasures of the Irsch Parish Church.

About 1750, the church acquired a beautiful baroque gold-plated monstrance. Foot, shaft, and a decorative knot support the oblong- shaped monstrance with its canopied top decoration of God the Father and the Holy Spirit Dove. The windowed compartment which holds and displays the Eucharistic bread is surrounded with well polished quarz stones in the colors of emerald, carnelian and aquamarine and then by a flat oak-leaf wreath of silver. This was especially fitting since so many of the Irsch villagers made their living by stripping the outer bark from oak trees and selling it to tanneries along the Saar. Thus the heavenly Bread of Life is surrounded by the leaves of the tree which brings earthly food to the table.

The altar cross, which had hung over the small baroque high altar in 1739, was moved to the side of the pulpit after the 1806 construction. The body of the crucified Christ was made of beech wood, 98 cm high. Christ's head does not have the usual crown of thorns; instead a lock of hair falls forward, almost touching his shoulder. His legs do not rest on the usual support but are nailed directly to the cross. The body's anatomy is finely carved. The face of Christ, with a short beard, has half-closed eyes and beautifully represents His submission to the will of the father.

In the 1800s, Pastor Peter Kremer baptized my great-great grandfather, Pastor B. Pfeiffer married him to my great-great grandmother, and Pastor Peter Schmitt baptized their children and said the last Mass the 1861 emigrants attended in their familiar church before leaving for Le Havre and the long trip to America. I often imagine the special blessing he gave them, inside this church which held so much of their history.

References:
Meyer, Ewald, Irsch/Saar: Geschichte eines Dorfes, Gemeinde Irsch, 2002
Die Pfarrkirche in Irsch/Saar, a manuscript by Pastor P. Markus Laser, from 1979. Website version: http://www.irsch-saar.de/sdoku.htm
Photographs from http://www.irsch-saar.de

The Village Church of Serrig at Kirten

2010-03-27T17:00:00.046-05:00

The 12th century tower of the Catholic Church in Kirten

In the nineteenth century, the heart of almost every village in the Rheinland, and certainly in my ancestral villages, was the Catholic Church. The families who lived in the village worked long hours on six days of the week, but on Sundays, the spiritual took precedence over weekday labor. The church was not only the place where all villagers went to nourish their souls, but also a gathering place for friends and relatives, united in their religious practice as well as the social activities of the parish, such as the Kermis or parish festival.

I realized recently that even though I have descriptions of the exteriors and interiors of the churches which my ancestors knew so well, I haven't written much of anything about them. So my next posts will remedy that situation.

An Unusual Parish Church

The Catholic church of Serrig, home parish of my Hauser, Rommelfanger, and Käse ancestors, was not actually in their village. It was located at Kirten nearby. Here stood a Romanesque-style church building with a bell tower, the only part which remains today. The villagers of Serrig walked some good distance to attend services in their parish church, located in this Ort, a place not large enough to be called a village.

The book, "Serrig: Landschaft, Geschichte und Geschichten", says that while the population of Serrig grew in the 18th and 19th centuries, residents still traveled to the Kirten church, even though it was some distance away, and Kirten itself had only three mills and four nearby houses.

The visitation protocol of about 1810 (this was probably akin to a diocesan report on a Catholic Church in its jurisdiction) reports that Kirten's place of worship was too small by half for the number of people who attended services, most of whom, approximately 80 families and 560 communicants, came from Serrig to services.

The protocol also says the "choir" of the church (the chancel which held the choir and any priests in attendance who were not officiating at the Mass) was in terrible condition; the floor of the attic very damaged and the sacristy needed renovation; the benches were all old and broken; the glass windows of the church were dull and lacking in color. The altar of the Virgin Mary and the two neighboring altars of holy Nikolaus and the holy Cosmos and Damien were "doomed to disaster."

Eventually, the nave had fallen into such decay that only the chancel and the sanctuary of the church remained

The Kirten church had no organ and the mass was sung in Latin but regularly mixed with German songs. Every Sunday there was catechism instruction.

The cemetery was large enough for the needs of the parish. The church had two bells. The first bell was installed in 1753 (when the vestry and nave of the church were added to the first floor choir (which dated from the mid 1500s). Josef Mabillon from Saarburg was given the assignment of making the other bell tower larger in 1839 (to accomodate the new bell).

The rectory was in good condition with five rooms of which two had heat. There was a stable and stall and also a garden behind the house.

By 1853 the Kirten church was still in bad repair, although the protocol from 1853 noted that the altar was now very tasteful and modern. As if the author of the protocol was afraid to give too much praise, it was noted that t

he high altar of the church was overflowing with "bad" statues. Whether this refers to the condition of the statues or the quality of the craftsmanship is not clear.

A repair in 1838 was noted in the protocol of 1853. This repair had done away with the side altars.

On the tabernacle altar there had been a large statue of St. Martin (the Kirten Church's patron saint) with a beautiful horse. That statue was removed in 1838 by order of the report writer because he was afraid that the Halfen, the men who handled the horses that towed the barges along the Saar River, would be distracted by the horse's beauty and would not concentrate on the church service. The statue went to another small village, presumably one that was not on a river.

It was about this time that many Roman walls, pillars, and other remains were found under the church, under the graveyard, and in the nearby fields. The most surprising find was that of two complete stone columns from Roman times.

A new church was constructed in the Village of Serrig in 1896 and the crumbling church at Kirten was demolished. As I noted earlier, all that remains today is the church tower built in about the 12th century. The cemetery for the village of Serrig still lies nearby.

Next: The Village Church of Irsch

Sources:

Hammächer, Klaus. Serrig: Landschaft, Geschichte und Geschichten

Reading at the Breakfast Table

2010-03-04T22:26:00.048-06:00

Breakfast table in Saarburg

Usually when I write a post, I pick a topic and try to collect all the material I've accumulated on that subject. Not this time! Why? Because recently I found some unused information from notes I took several years ago when I was exploring and gathering data from my Rhineland ancestors' original homeland.

Herr Ewald Meyer whom I often mention in my blog posts had loaned me some books from his own library; titles he thought would be helpful in my quest for local knowledge. The only drawback was that they were in German and reading them was very time consuming. So each morning, after I finished my breakfast, I would sit at the table in the pretty kitchen of my rental apartment, sip my remaining coffee, read/look up unknown words/take notes on things that interested me.

Of course, I no longer have these books. Herr Meyer wanted them back when I went home to Wisconsin and there was no way I could finish reading them. But they did have information that examined rural life in the Eifel, an area very similar to my ancestors' Kreis Saarburg villages. And even though the notes were pretty miscellaneous, I figured I could add them to the rest of my data at some later time.

Those notes turned up recently - at the bottom of a box that now holds a defunct Quick Pad Pro. Even such sparse facts deserve to be preserved in this blog. But either 1) they belong in a blog post I've already written, and current readers are unlikely to find them there or 2) they belong in a blog post that I have yet to write and probably never will. To my mind, two or three sentences on a subject do not a blog post make!

Rather than lose track of these hard-earned notes again, I'm posting them just as I took them. The blank box at the very top of the Blogger page allows both you and me to "word search" all the "mischmasch" I'm going to post as well as any other topic.

Notes from "Thin Leg with Crooked Horn; The History of the Eifel Cow, or the Long Road to the Butterhill"

Eifel cows were a reddish color. They had a small head, thin neck and fine short legs along with a high swinging tail. They were healthy, liebhaft, light on feet, fairly resistant to disease and didn't require much maintenance.

The stall for the cattle was usually a place with hardly any light, small windows, damp walls, and a strong odor of manure. Sometimes the same barn or stable area held the pig stall, and chickens. The floor was made out of limestone or sandstone plaster. Some straw was placed under each cow but that didn't prevent them fro lying in their own waste at times because there was no place for urine to go. Barns were cold in in the Eifel. The manure was kept in the stall in winter to produce a little heat. As the manure was covered again and again with straw, a cow got closer and closer to ceiling. The outer door was not opened very much to keep heat in when it was cold. Another door to the barn led right into the hall in the Wohnhaus (house and barn were together) and the farmer could go into the barn from that hall without losing too much heat.

The feed for the cows (and also for people) was rye and oats as both grew very well in the Eifel. Then they began to plant potatoes as well. Potatoes had been planted at the edge of the Eifel since the 18^th Century. But it was only known as animal food. Then, at the end of the 18^th century, terrible poverty forced people to eat more of what the cows ate. The people found potatoes were good nourishment and could be made into many tasty dishes. And one could plant potatoes year after year without exhausting the earth.

Cows were an important part of farmer’s livestock but they were expensive to buy and to feed if they were to be productive. The land wasn’t always good for cow pasture so sheep were also important farm livestock. Sheep could eat just about anything and eat well.

The year 1816 was terrible. In the Eifel snow stayed until June and then fell again in November. The potates froze in the ground and lay under the snow. People again had to eat like the cattle - minus the potatoes. They gathered a type of walnut from trees that grew in the region and grind it for flour to bake bread. In spring, there were no potatoes to be used for the following year's planting so the next year was difficult too.

In Kreis Witlich and Prum, the oldest son got the majority of the land and the other sons were paid off with a very small sum. They had to stay unmarried and do things around the farm just to have bread and butter.

But in most of the Eifel and the Rhineland, everything was divided up among all the heirs of the family. The measure at this time was the “morgen ha” method, and it seems that using the "morgen ha," land could be divided into extremely small portions. Five Prussian morgen were equal to 1.27 ha or 12.700m2. A common soccer field is equal to 7.140m2. The average farmer didn’t have any more land than 1 ¾ of a football (soccer?) field for his whole family.

In the 19^th century, there were good years when a farmer could produce enough to sell as well as to maintain his family. Unfortunately, usually that meant that all the other farmers were trying to do the same and so almost no money could be made. But they traded butter, eggs and cheese with tradesmen in the village for their wares.

Common cheese was cottage cheese. Butter milk or thinner milk was placed in crock or kettle and kept in a warm place. The fermentation process would start, and little clumps would form in it. To speed up this process you could warm it on the stove. It would take on a yellow color and be thick enough to cut with a knife. They would cut cheese into four parts and then they would put it into a sieve and cover it with a linen cloth. The thin milk came to the top and would be given to the calves to drink. About half an hour, salt, milk and carroway seeds were added and they let it finish. When it was ready one could have for several meals from it and eat it as bread covering. It also would be tasty with pickled beets and two pieces of bread. In the Eifel they made soft cheeses.

Notes from "Village Life in the Eifel."

In the Eifel the usual dress of the farmer was a blue linen smock, home sewn, used for the daily, often dirty jobs of his workday. It had a partially open front that tied at the neck. The "zipfel" or stocking cap, knit by the wife or Oma, was headwear.

The older farmhouses (1700s) were entered by the kitchen with all the rooms leading off of it. But by the 1800s, there was a hall or staircase that served as the first entrance. The sleeping rooms were above and simply furnished with an oak bed, straw mattress, home woven bed linen, a heavy featherbed, a cradle and a chest. The kitchen had a stone sink.

When a farmhouse was built, the custom was that the farmer drove in the first nail and for each blow needed, he had to provide one bottle of brandy. Before the carpenters began the work, the farmer must pound in the first nail. Once the roof beam was erected, the carpenters placed a decorated spruce tree on the top. The master carpenter then recited an old maxim or words of wisdom. Decorating the tree was from an old widespread belief that this was a magic defense. It should keep away lightening and hardship from the house and its inhabitants.

Quite a few sheep were kept as livestock by small farmers. Before the sheering, a farmer would dunk each sheep in a water pond. This was a way to clean the fleece so that when sheered the wool was clean. After its bath, each sheep would run around in the field to dry before the sheering.

Blacksmith work was mostly shoeing horses, oxen and cows – because each of those animals could pull a wagon or plow. The blacksmith also repaired the metal parts of wagons and wheelbarrows. He had many tools and often served as the veterinarian too, doing surgery with a little knife which he kept in his pocket.

Workday shoes in earlier days were handmade with pins and little nails. The Sunday shoes were made with better leather tops. This raw material came from the tannery; in villages without a shoemaker, sometimes traveling shoemakers stayed with customers in their house. Then on Sunday evenings all people in the village came together and the traveling Schuster would tell them the gossip from other villages along his path. Weeks before a holiday, the traders would come into the village and bring pots, pans, kettles, buckets and household articles because of the cleaning and cooking that would go on.

If you needed a table or a cabinet or a bench of wood, you might go to village carpenter who made these things. That was true especially of the big furniture pieces made of oak as well as doors on the cupboards and table tops.

My notes end here and so does this blog post.

The Memorials of our Ancestors - a Correction and a Family History

2010-01-24T21:46:00.006-06:00

The Tressel Cross Monument

http://www.irsch-saar.de/denkmaeler_schulkreuz.htm

A few weeks before Christmas, I received an e-mail from Ewald Meyer of Irsch, the author of Irsch/Saar; Geschichte eines Dorfes. He had read my November blog post in which I had written about a monument in Irsch which he had described in his history. Now he kindly made me aware of some new information about the motivation for the construction of the Tressel Cross or Tresselkreuz that had come to him. And I will share that information with you, hoping that some searcher will find a genealogical treasure by reading this post, not just a correction of a misinterpretation of a Latin inscription at the base of the monument.

The Correction to my post, "The Memorials of our Ancestors."

Prior histories had guessed that the Tressel Cross monument had been erected by the school teacher of Irsch, Christopher Tressel and his wife because they were, to their sorrow, childless. For that reason, it was believed that they dedicated the cross to the Virgin Mary of the Seven Sorrows and the patient suffering of her Son, Jesus.

So in my last post, I wrote:

A Married Couple's Disappointment

"...This monument was erected by the school teacher, Christoph Tressel and his wife, Maria Elizabeth. Legend has it that the couple was childless and that this was a great sorrow to them. Herr Tressel was the teacher, sexton, and founder of the church choir in Irsch. He was also the teacher in Beurig and Ockfen. Thus the monument came to be called the Schulkreuz or "School Cross." It also served as a place where people, in times of trouble, often came to pray to the sorrowful Christ and to the virgin mother of the seven sorrows."

Herr Ewald Meyer had used many historical sources to write his history of Irsch. One was a narrative written by the pastor of the Catholic Church in Irsch in 1979, "Beitrag zur Heimatkunde." It described the Tressel Cross and sought to explain why it was built. Pastor Markus Laser pondered the inscription on the base of the Cross (noting that sometimes it became almost illegible) "Crux erecta Jesui Patienti a Christophero Tressel et Maria Elisabetha (conjugibus) solis in Irsch = Stat oblatas septem doloribus onera (munera) de Mariae (Virginis) voto. 1781. The word "solis" led the priest to conclude that the childless Tressels built the monument as a testament to living patiently with suffering or disappointment.

As so many of us who try to reconstruct a history - whether of a village or a family - know, the most likely explanation does not always turn out to be the right one. After the Irsch history was published, new information about the Tressel family tree emerged. Herr Meyer says it was very accurately researched. There were many descendants of Christoph Tressel, school teacher of Irsch and his wife Anna Maria. The supposed "childless couple" was not childless.

Christoph Tressel, who would become the schoolmaster in Irsch, was the sixth and youngest child of Melchior Tressel (Melchior Tressel was christened 1696 in St. Gervase in Trier and died in Trier in 05.06.1766.) and Anna Katharina Reiter. The family lived on the Neugasse or "new alley" in Trier.

Christoph was born on October 13, 1731 and was baptized on the same day in St. Gervaise Church in Trier. He studied at the former University of Trier in 1750 and passed his examination as a "bachelor of liberal arts". On May 5, 1757 he married a childless widow, Anna Maria Blasius, born Berling, in Pellingen. Her father was John Berling, a teacher and farmer in Pellingen.

The marriage of Christoph and Anna Maria Tressel was very fruitful according the the parish records of Irsch and Beurich. They had five children and Herr Tressel became the school teacher in Irsch where he and his family lived for approximately 50 years.

The Descendants of Christoph Tressel and his wife, Anna Maria (note the male in each generation printed in bold type)

The children of Christoph Tressel and his wife, Anna Maria

*08/05/1756 in Pellingen, +11/10/1810 in Irsch, oo before 1790 to Margarethe Wagner, 1758 in Irsch, +March 21, 1818 in Irsch

2. Tressel, Matthias, farmer, Synod member, surveyor, * 22/08/1759 in Pellingen, + 05/02/1826 in Beurig, oo about 1791 in Beurig to Anna Elisabeth Reinert, * 1760 in Beurig, + 05/02/1836 in Pellingen

3. Tressel, Nikolaus, * 23/06/1761 in Pellingen, + 22.12.1838 in Irsch, oo I. 1782 to Magdalena Dawen,oo II. Margaretha Peters

4. Tressel, Bernhard, * 08.02.1763 in Pellingen, + as a little child

5. Tressel, Anton,* 1765 in Pellingen, + 21.09.1835, (he built the house that served as a school in Irsch, p. 145 of the Irsch History by Ewald Meyer), oo ca. 1817 Maria Britten.

The Children of Matthias Tressel und Anna Elisaberth Reinert:

1. Tressel, Michael, Farmer, Wine maker, Tailor, Teacher in Baldringen, *1793 in Beurig, + 09.04.1851 in Beurig

oo 17.02.1819 Anna Oberkirch from Beurig

2. Tressel, Johanna, * 1795/96, + in Beurig, oo 1817 Franz Schu

3. Tressel, Johann, *17.06.1797 in Beurig, immigrated with three of his sons to Illinois, USA, + 30.09.1871 in Galena, Illinois St. Mary Church, oo 08.06.1822 Anna Maria Morgen

4. Tressel, Anton, * in Beurig, + in Zewen, married at Brotdorf

The children of Michael Tressel und Anna Oberkirch (Nr.1):

1. Tressel, Susanna, * 1819 in Beurig, + 1889 in Irsch

2. Tressel, Michael, * 1823 in Beurig, farmer and linen weaver, + 1893 in Beurig

3. Tressel, Nikolaus, * 25.08.1825 in Beurig, farmer and winemaker, + 17,03.1891 in Beurig

4. Tressel, Johann, * 18.10.1827 in Beurig, spindle weaver, farmer, winemaker, + 24.07.1881 in Beurig,

oo 24.02.1862 in Beurig Margaretha Wallrich

5. Tressel, Peter, * 1830 in Beurig, + in the Ruhr in1857

6. Tressel, Anni, * 1833 in Beurig, + in the Ruhr in 1857

7. Tressel, Johann Peter, * 1836 in Beurig, Ackerer, wine maker, linen weaver,+ 1909 in Beurig, oo 1873 Katharina Baumann from Beurig (*1846, +1921)

Die Kinder von Johann Peter Tressel und Katharina Baumann ( Nr. 7):

1. Maria Margaretha, * 1873, + 1965, 1908 to 1916 housekeeper in the parish house in Haag for her brother, Matthias, oo 1918 Peter Palm of Irsch, Adopted child Katharina

2. Johann Josef, *1875, + 1877

3. Matthias Josef, *1878 + 1945, Since 1909 the priest and poet used the name, Ernst Thrasolt.

4. Maria Gertrud (1880 – 1966) stayed in her parents' home

5. Nikolaus Josef (1882 – 1915) was the farmer in his parents' home, killed in Russia in WWI.

6. Maria Susanna (1884 from1975) was a teacher, married 1919 to Josef Feiten (1888 – 1957), who later became the governmental school inspector.

7. Johannes (1889 – 1915), Doctorate in philosophy earned on June 5,1915. On September 27, 1915 he was killed in France during WWI.

Legends often have a grain of truth in them. Perhaps the word "solis" did not refer to sorrow of a second marriage of the the childless widow Anna Maria who married Christoph Tressel but rather to her first marriage. Ewald Meyer ventured a guess that the Tresselkruez was merely an indication of the prestige of the village school teacher, who was able to associate with the highest classes of the village and of the Kreis. The reason the Tressel Cross was erected can only be guessed at, but there is indisputable evidence that the monument had nothing to do with sorrow over childlessness.

There is no doubt, however, that the schoolmaster and founder of the church choir of Irsch was the great great grandfather of the priest/poet Ernst Thrasolt, whose writings in the old Irsch dialect had been translated by Ewald Meyer, who, at the time, did not know of Thrasolt's connection to the beloved Irsch schoolmaster and choir founder of the 18th century.

A New Year's Resolution for This Blog

2010-01-03T16:26:00.002-06:00

The tradition of the New Year's Resolutions goes all the way back to 153 B.C. according to many sources. Most sources attribute it to (blame it on?) the Roman god, Janus, who faced both backward and forward. I suppose the premise in those early days was was that Janus (somewhat like Santa Claus) knew about mistakes each person had made in the past and was expecting better behavior in the coming year.

My resolutions for 2010, the fifth year that I will be writing this blog, have to do with change. I thought about ending the blog now that I have written approximately 60 posts, but seem to be unable to quit cold turkey. In e-mails and a few comments on the website itself, it seems that the work I have done has been helpful. I don't want to lose that.

At the same time, I think I have covered most of what I have available to me in terms of social history. Without another trip to Germany (it has been five years since my last visit) and new book purchases, I'm no longer finding enough material for the long-length topics that I've written in the past. So in the coming year, my blog posts will be shorter and, I hope, more frequent, because I often find facts that fit the blog; but are too short to constitute a blog post as my readers know it. Some posts may still be long - others rather short. But I hope all of them will have some useful information on the social history of the 19th century in the Trier area and the Rhineland.

The other thing I hope to do is begin the systematic labeling of my past posts, thus bringing them into good order and making them more obvious and useable. In the past, by the time I had finished a post and managed to get it to look relatively normal when published - not always an easy thing to accomplish when the text suddenly appears in letters an inch tall or in type so tiny only the very far-sighted could read it. I was too brain dead to figure out proper labels by that time. Yet labels would bring posts together under logical headings such as holiday customs, farm life, immigration, clothing, etc. My choice of posts has never been systematic. When inspiration hits, I write. Exactly what all the label terminology will be is yet to be decided, but I know a labeling system would be helpful to me and probably to you too.

My third resolution is to follow through on some additions to posts for which I lacked either time or information when I did the original. I'm thinking that rather than add the material to an old post, I will write it as a new post, using the label method as well as a URL in the text to bring in to its rightful place.

My fourth resolution is to encourage readers out there to let me know when they find something useful and to share what they know with me and anyone else who reads a post. Or just let me know now and then that I am not writing in a vacuum. I once gave a lecture on genealogy by phone hookup. I sat in an empty room and gave out what information I had. I've done public speaking in my time; that was the most unrewarding of any of it. I kept wanting to ask, "Is anybody out there?" That's what I'm asking now!

Happy New Year!

The Memorials of our Ancestors

2009-11-25T15:47:00.003-06:00

Wegkreuz or way-cross near Taben-Roht

A common sight on television news, whether national or local, is bouquets of flowers, stuffed animals, candles, and perhaps a styrofoam cross, to mark the spot where a tragedy occurred. It is a way of expressing sorrow, sometimes from people who did not know the victim but were touched by their sad story.

Our ancestors had similar reactions to tragedy. Whether they brought temporary objects to express their sorrow is difficult to know. But they, mostly strong believers in God and his mother Mary, also erected markers that stood for a century or longer. And these monuments were not always built to commemorate a tragedy. Although I knew that all of my ancestral villages had sturdy crosses or tiny chapels with religious themes, I hadn't thought about their meaning in more than a superficial way until this week.

What I realized is that times of death were not the only occasions when our ancestors expressed their feelings in a very public way. Here are descriptions of three separate monuments in or near one of my ancestral villages. Each monument was erected for a situation that elicited a strong emotion; strong enough to preserve the memory of it for at least a century.

Sudden tragedy

On the high road between Zerf and Hermeskeil, the monument called simply "At the thick stone" stands. It is a light-colored marker similar in shape to a cemetery cross. It replaces the original wooden cross which stood in the same place. At the time it was erected, somewhere between 1794-1814, the area between Zerf and the Hochwald (high wood) continued to be a dangerous place. It was here that two wagon drivers who were underway with a load of goods were attacked by robbers who had stretched a rope across the rode, causing the horses to fall. After stopping the wagon, the bandits could murdered the drivers and made off with the goods they carried. In tribute and sorrow, a wooden cross was erected which lasted until about 1920 when it was so badly deteriorated that it was replaced with the monument now called the Ottskreuz, since it had stood for a time on the grave of the sister, Frau Ott, of one of the slain drivers.

A Married Couple's Disappointment

In Irsch, on the road leading in the direction of Ockfen, a cross about six feet high was erected in 1781. The upper part was a baroque-styled, arched crossbeam roof that hung over the crucifix. Near the foot of the cross, there was a small picture of the Virgin Mary of the Seven Sorrows. At the base of the monument was an inscription in Latin, indicating that being childless was a great sadness. This monument was erected by the school teacher, Christoph Tressel and his wife, Maria Elizabeth. Legend has it that the couple was childless and that this was a great sorrow to them. Herr Tressel was the teacher, sexton, and founder of the church choir in Irsch. He was also the teacher in Beurig and Ockfen. Thus the monument came to be called the Schulkreuz or "School Cross." It also served as a place where people, in times of trouble, often came to pray to the sorrowful Christ and to the virgin mother of the seven sorrows.

Thanksgiving for Good Fortune

A new-found friend, who lives in France near the German border where my ancestors once lived, sent me the picture above and the story of a Wegkreuz or way-cross monument." She found it not too far from my ancestral village of Serrig, and she knew I'd be interested in a story from that area. But the legend about this monument was not at all what I had expected:

On a cold winter afternoon in the year 1868 a little girl from the village of Hamm caused a schoolroom disturbance that interrupted the instruction of her teacher, a very stern woman. The teacher, as punishment, put the child into a dark little shed where the wood which heated the school was kept.

It was snowing by the time classes were over for the day, and the teacher and the other children had forgotten all about the little girl who was still locked in the woodshed. Later, as the church sexton was going about his appointed chores, he passed by the school. He heard cries coming from the shed and went to investigate. Releasing the child, he told her to hurry home to her parents. Unfortunately, it had already begun to snow in the afternoon and now, in the dark, the child was having a difficult time finding her way. She became more and more disoriented and confused as she wandered until, finally, she sank down into the snow, exhausted. A miller, traveling was on his way from Hamm to his own village of Taben-Roht when he heard whimpering. He searched and found the child and walked back the way he had come in order to see her safely home again.

The parents were so grateful that, in thanksgiving to God, they erected a cross, known as Barschels Kruez, or Barschels Cross (Barschel is the small district where the little girl was found). The cross of gratitude lasted for almost 100 years and then was rebuilt by the village of Taben-Roht in 1999 in order to highlight this piece of the area's history.

As our annual celebration of Thanksgiving, with its family gatherings, good food, and (usually) football approaches, this last memorial has made me think - of all of the times, big and small, when what could have been a tragedy turned into an occasion for my own personal thanksgiving day. While it's probably not possible for me to build a memorial, at least I hope I remember to buy some flowers to give thanks the next time I experience such an instance.

Sources:

*Christoffel, Edgar. Der Hochwaldort Zerf Am Fusse Des Hundrücks Landschaft; Geschichte, Kultur; Gegenwart. Saarburg, Verlag W. Rassier, 1981
*Meyer, Ewald. Irsch/Saar; Geschichte eines Dorfes. Geminde Irsch, 2002

*Verkehrs-und Verschönerungsverein, Taben-Rodt

Mentioning Unmentionables

2009-10-17T22:58:00.005-05:00

Drawing of young woman of the Hunsruck wearing chemise under her work clothes from website www.marquise.de

As I was struggling once again with Martha Heit's, "Kleidung im Trier Land des frühen 19. Jahrhunderts," planning my next post for this blog, a phrase caught my attention:

"If an embroidered undergarment of any kind was given to a young girl for the time when she would be a new bride, this was considered a very loving gift. Making the same kind of gift to a young man was an absolute taboo."

I couldn't help wondering just what kind of underclothing men and women wore in the 1800s. From information in Frau Heit's study of the "Official Gazette of the Trier Government" which sometimes caused me quite a bit of translation puzzlement, I finally was able to discern just what the lower class residents of the Trier area were wearing, or not wearing, under their outer clothing.

The Women's Undergarments in the Early Part of the 19th Century

For Sundays, holidays, and other celebrations, the women wore one or more petticoats as part of their costume. But for work days, their dress was plain and practical, and it started with a very basic piece of underclothing, the Hemd or chemise.

1800's chemise pattern from www.marquise.de

The farm wife's or servant girl's chemise was calf length, and the material for the basic part of the dress used so efficiently that the sleeves sometime had to be made of other material, usually a finer weave. The ordinary chemise had a large square neckline so that the head could go through, or it was a smaller round oval with a drawstring opening that could be loosened for nursing. A chemise had no buttons. The women wore this thick, strong chemise, usually made from linen, both during the day and to bed at night.

A skirt and apron were worn over the top of the chemise during the day, the top of the chemise serving as both inner- and outerwear. Especially in winter a Leibchen (vest-like bodice) covered the top of the chemise. Sometimes this bodice was attached to the skirt, but it might be separate also. It was a style that had been worn since the end of the 15th century.

In the early 1800s, a church Dechant (dean) in Merzig wrote that in summer and even coldest winter, the women wore garments (the chemise?) that did not cover their bare arms, even in the church. But he concluded that this was not something that caused discomfort because a women never went without a large scarf or shawl that hung over her chest, back, and arms. This large shawl gave the Hemd or chemise, with sleeves that reached about as low as the elbow or just a little below it, enough warmth for the colder temperatures

The chemise sleeves, which were usually narrow, were worn above the elbow, so that the sleeves would not prevent a woman from bending her arm. However, in the Hunsruck, the sleeves of the chemise came below the elbow because the cut was much wider, in fact, quite full. Local folklore from this area says that these sleeves could be pushed up to stay above the elbow, but to this day there is a debate about how this was done because folk tradition also says that there was no button or band used at the bottom of the sleeve. Thus how the sleeves were kept up remains a mystery.

Frau Heit concluded that women wore only the Hemd as underclothing. If the breasts were supported, it was by the over-bodice which served as a bra. A corset was rare. The government Amtsblatt reports upon which Frau Heit's book is based, indicate that until about 1836 underpants were not worn at all. None of the inventories of the possessions of the women who died accidentally or violently mention underpants. Neither do the stores that were robbed list such articles of clothing.

Later (1870-1900) underclothing for women (look for information on later undergarments of the 19th century in this space as soon as I can translate it from the website just listed.

The Men's Undergarments of the Early 19th Century

Not too much is written in the Amtsblatt reports about men's unmentionables. Frau Heit was able to find mention of only 14 pairs of underpants in all of the police reports she studied which covered the 20 year period from 1816 to 1836.

These 14 pairs of underpants were as follows: 4 underpants were made of linen, 2 of cotton twill, one each of flanell, baize (a felt-like material woven from wool), or leather. The underpants were usually short; but they could be long as well, with a stirrup going into (or over) the man's boot.

Until the coming of the washable jersey materials about 1858, the wearing of underpants by the male farm folk or the city commoner was somewhat unusual. As long as their shirts were long enough, underpants were superfluous. The shirts were made with so much material that they filled the trousers. This kind of hygiene was considered adequate.

And now that my ancestors are turning in their graves at my revelation of their "unmentionables," I can only hope that they will forgive me in the interests of social history.

Herr Burgermeister Bodem and his Angel

2009-09-08T15:41:00.003-05:00

Monuments of Chopin, Pere Lachaise Cemetery Paris

Bodem family monument, Beurig church cemetery

When my sister and I were in Paris a few years ago, we went to visit the city's most famous cemetery, the Cimitiere de Pere Lachaise. I was amazed at the size of the monuments of the prominent Parisians (and a few outsiders of great fame such as Chopin) buried there.

When I received the e-mailed photo above from Ewald Meyer who lives in Irsch but who was born in the neighboring village of Beurig, I wondered if he and his wife had made a trip to Paris recently. It had never occurred to me that a monument of such enormous size might reside in the cemetery at Beurig, which at about the time the tombstone was constructed, had a population of less than 1,000.

Then, when I read his explanation, I knew I had another case of class distinctions, similar to the sumptuary laws affecting clothing which I described in a recent post.

This is a summary of what Ewald Meyer wrote, knowing that what he told me would be of great interest both to me and probably to the people who periodically read this blog:

I am sending you a photo from the cemetery in Beurig. Here stands the monument of the Bodem family. Nikolaus Bodem was Bürgermeister when Johann Meyer (my 2nd great grandfather) emigrated to USA in 1861. Irsch was only a village in the Kingdom of Prussia. But any civil servant was a very big man within the Monarchy. John Meyer (a farmer) was only an (unimportant) subject of the Prussian king.

While the grave of ordinary citizens would be assigned to someone else after 25 years of non-usage, the graves of the prestigious remained untouched, even when no more relatives of the family lived in the city or village. The bombastic grave monument (of the Bodem family) is a testimonial to past times.

Because Nikolaus Bodem, as mayor, was a senior Prussian official with a superior position, his entire family was considered to be "upper class. The family tomb (not surprisingly) is the largest of the Beurig village cemetery. Even the wife of the Herr Bürgermeister Bodem is dubbed the "Frau Bürgermeister" in the engraving on the far left of the tombstone (where she is buried).

The mayorality of Irsch-Beurig was then a relatively small administrative area. It included the towns of Irsch, Beurig, Ockfen, Schoden and Serrig with a total of about 3,000 inhabitants. The administrative office was in Irsch, the largest village, which in 1810 had 982 inhabitants. But on November 1, 1833, the Prussian government moved the mayor's office to Beurig, a village of about 500.

Nicholas Bodem was born in 1803 in Irsch and died in 1885 in Beurig (where he had moved when Beurig became the mayor's administrative office). By the time he died, Beurig was the largest city of the mayorality, surpassing Irsch. It had become a railway stop for the area (including Saarburg, the district office for the Kreis) in 1860.

The cemetery in Beurig is now owned by the city Saarburg, because the two communities were incorporated in 1935 into the county seat Beurig-Saarburg. Now graves have defined periods of use. After no more than 30 years (from the date of the burial), a grave will be leveled and prepared as a new resting place.

The Bodem tomb which still stands in the cemetery is in a special section. These are the burial plots that are from the Prussian period of the 19th Century. They were the resting places of the wealthy families of the time, and regarded as self-acquired property. These are tombs for officials who were in royal service (eg, mayors and foresters) or for estate owners. Some of these family graves are still used by descendants. In other cases, there are no longer descendants. These graves are neglected as is the burial place of Herr Bürgermeister Bodem. Frau Trimborn (whose name can be seen at the far right of the photo) was the last descendant of the Bodem family.

It seems that the Herr Bodem, who was the mayor for 48 years, from 1831 to 1879, has a monument as tall as his term was long. Unfortunately, his family line's time in Beurig was much shorter.

The Merchant Traveling the Roads

2009-08-04T21:07:00.002-05:00

White kittel, knee pants, stockings of the 18th century

Traveling, whether it involved great distances or just a trip to the nearest town, could be dangerous for the men and women of the Trier Land during the late 18th and early 19th century. Robbery and disappearances were common occurrences, especially on roads that were little traveled.

Martha Heit describes these "missing" or "waylaid" travelers as listed in the logs of the official government gazette of the times. There are too many for me to describe the clothing of all of them but here are the traveling clothes of a few of the merchants who took to the road.

The Elderly Gentleman from Wellen

Throughout the early years of the 19th century, the older styles from before the time of Napoleon were still worn, especially by those born before the "Little Emperor" had changed many of the laws and customs of the Rhineland. Such was the case of an older man who was traveling the roads with his son in 1827. The gazette records do not record the man's business, but it would appear that it was a profitable one based on the clothing he was wearing. The picture above gives you and idea of the garb of this 18th century middle-class merchant from Wellen

The description given to the police clerk, probably by the son, was very detailed. The older man's outer garment was a blue linen Kittel, a long, loose, smock-like garment, often used for work around the farm to protect the clothing underneath. A Kittel was also worn by well-to-do persons who wanted to disguise their wealth when they traveled the roads. But under the Kittel, the missing man had worn a dark blue Tuchrock, an undercoat that today would probably be called a suit jacket. It had a wide lapel and large buttons the size of a Prussian Taler (the size of the Taler did change over time but was always a fairly large coin). The picture below, a segment from a portrait painted in the 18th century, is a good example of the large buttons on the Tuckrock.

Under the Tuckrock, the missing man had worn a linen shirt with a collar that was all of a piece with the shirt and held together with a black silk scarf. Over the shirt he wore a dark blue high-closed vest, and Sammet (velvet) knee pants about culotte length. His knee length stockings were worn with a type of decorative garter and his low thin shoes closed with a silver buckle. On his head he wore a black hat with a brim and a low crown and underneath the hat he wore a more casual Zipfel (slightly pointed) cap, knitted from very fine wool.

When the man and his son had reached Konz, a town about seven miles from Trier, the father and son briefly separated. The father had gone into one of the businesses, possibly to "clean" himself from the dust of journey (says the police report) and after that he and his fine clothing were not seen again.

The Linen Weaver from Burbach

Mutze with Schirm (Museum in Honfleur, Normandy)

This weaver was about 40 years old and in Dec. 1835 he went on business to Gersweiler and disappeared. No one ever heard from him again. His clothing made it appear that he was a poor man, but robbers must have seen through his disguise which consisted of an old cap (Mutze) made out of dark material with a Schirm (a cap with a visor and sometimes ear flaps) as in the cap at the left. His cloth overcoat was gray and his trousers were made of black cloth. He had white linen gaitors and shoes that were in poor repair. Under his coat he had on an old worn-out shirt over which he had a muslin loose shirt, no scarf and no vest.

The Priest from Piesport

Priests also were "merchants" that had "customers" who needed "spiritual wares." In 1820 the priest from Piesport was on the road the day after Sylvester (New Year's Day) when the Mosel was greatly swollen, flooding over the path from Mannheim to Piesport. This priest never came home again; it is likely that he drowned. His clothing was of the style of the 18th century that was perhaps the official priestly dress of this time, something the author was unable to discover. He wore a large overcoat of dark green wool material with a collar, and part of the collar was a small standup necktie of a cotton material. The coat had a cuff that was also of cotton. Underneath His overcoat, he wore a typical priestly undercoat with small black buttons, a vest of black material, knee pants of black material with silver buckles and black stockings. His shirt was a form of muslin with crape cuffs. The letters WK were embroidered by hand about level with his highest breast bone. This most likely was a religious symbol of some kind.

The Jewish Tradesman

The occupation of Jewish men of the time was almost always that of a trader and/or money changer. This always made them a target for robbery when they traveled. In Saarbrucken, one such man is described as wearing a dark blue overcoat, a blue and white striped vest, a yellow scarf, blue trousers and a fur cap described as having a "Schirm". This could indicate that the cap had a visor, earflaps, or both.

A Robber from Landkreise Trier

A linen weaver from the Province of Westpfalen was attacked on 27 May, 1818 in the forest not too far from Trierweiler in the Landkreise Trier by an assailant who knocked him to the ground and left him for dead. The robber took 215 Taler; part made up of French Kronenthaler and the remainder of Prussian coins (The linen weaver must have traveled widely). The victim was found the following night and brought to Wintersdorf. Since he had met the man who robbed him the previous evening and, since the robber was dressed very well, the linen weaver walked with him as a travel companion. Thus the linen weaver was able to describe his assailant's clothing in detail: "blue linen Kittel, dark blue undercoat, dark blue vest, a pair of velvet pants, thin shoes with straps, a black silk scarf and a hat."

All people, but especially merchants who had to travel the roads any distance had a kind of fatalism, although they hoped for the best. But as you can see, it was a very unsure thing whether a man would ever reach his destination.

Fabrics and Colors for the Not-So-Privileged Classes

2009-06-19T14:49:00.003-05:00

Kattun (calico) jacket front and back with woven design.

It may seem as if I am wandering from the subject of the clothing of the Trier area in the early 19th century, but please be patient since I want to make a point. I have just finished reading a historical novel about Mozart's sister, Maria Anna Walburga Ignatia Mozart, better known as Nannerl. The novel is set during the latter part of the 18th century. The Mozart family lived in Salzburg and while they were not nobles, their place in the society of the time meant that they had a high position in the tightly structured class system of that day.

Here is a description of a dress being made for Nannerl: "...the costly work of the dressmaker...squeezed the girl's bust like a trap and at the waist opened out over the hips in a puff of yellow taffeta dotted with flowers, and then fell to the floor in an exultation of flounces."

Most historical novels describe this kind of fashion. The materials had to be ordered, perhaps from France, surely from a large city and a skilled dressmaker was hired. When a servant girl became the heroine of a historical novel, no time was devoted to a description of her garb until, through some twist of fate, she too is dressed in fine brocades or satins.

But the book "Kleidung im Trierer Land des frühen 19. Jahrhunderts" is a source where the fashions and fabric of the woman of the lower middle class or the farmer's wife and daughters are explained in detail. That's why I am about to tell you what I have learned about that subject and why I have excluded the fabric and color of dresses worn by the women of Nannerl Mozart's class. If it had been possible, I would have gladly concentrated on the kind of clothing worn by the villagers and peasants in the small, provincial town of St. Gilgen, where Nannerl was sent to recover her health. Sadly, these clothes were given not a whit of attention, which means I continued struggling with Martha Heit's difficult (for me) German text about the attire of the lower classes of the Trier region.

CLASS AND RANK

A person's class had a great deal to do with the type of clothing that a woman was allowed to wear. In parts of Europe, including Germany and the Trier area, a type of "sumptuary law" was enforced, forbiding unseemly luxury among the lower classes. Sumptuary laws, as the name implies, sought to control consumption, and usually did so on the basis of rank. In other words, such laws, usually promulgated by emperors, kings, or nobles permited more ostentation and luxury among lords than among the middle class or peasants. The German sumptuary laws were part of an effort to discipline social life and social order into easily identifiable parts.

The German word "Rock" meant clothing in general in early times; but by about the 1600s it had come to denote a woman's skirt, whether sewn to a bodice or worn as a separate item of clothing. It was the most important part of her wardrobe. If permitted, this skirt could be very colorful, whatever the social class of the wearer. But because the skirt could also be one of the most expensive pieces, hand decorated with fine embroidery, the societal rules mentioned above usually forbad certain classes too much "show." In such a situation, a lower-class woman's overskirt had to be very plain. In some places only dark colors like black or brown were permitted.

Not to be deprived of their desire for something pretty to wear, peasant women made splendid colorful underskirts. And from folk literature about the underskirts of the women from the Eifel area northeast of Trier, it is clear that these garments were the pride of each farmer's wife. At times, two or three were put over each other. This was especially true for a bride's skirt and underskirts. In the Saar area in the 1850's, a woman's underskirts counted as the most costly pieces of the wardrobe.

Martha Heit, writes this about the skirts of the Trier region, "There was an early "patchwork" on the side of the skirt". This puzzled me until I saw the picture of a woman's jacket which was reproduced in her book; a complex patchwork-style design adds a dramatic flare to this jacket which was probably owned by a middle-class lady.

FABRICS

From the late middle ages until the 1700's, most of the clothing of the women from the middle mountain area of Hunsruck, Eifel and Saargau was made from linen. The flax had been grown on the family's own land and woven by hand. Clothing made for housework had the natural color of the flax thread. If colored, clothing was usually a practical gray or black. For the peasant woman, this didn't change much until new techniques developed around the beginning of the 1800s. The farm wife's loom, which was put to use in the winter after the crops were harvested, took only heavy threads, although with a heavy thread, the weaving went fast. The garment would be rather coarse when made on the home loom. It was an excellent way to make such things as linen trousers or any kind overwear.

The simplest and lightest weaving had to be done by the village weavers who had the ability to work with lighter-weight threads of wool, linen and cotton. These could be mixed together in a woven piece. The making of cotton cloth was known by weaving families, but the threads used tended to be very thick if made by small town weavers, as opposed to the finer cott0n cloth which was woven for women who lived in the big cities. The women of the smaller towns envied this fine cotton material. Cotton came into Germany from Holland and England. These two countries had more trade with India where many types of cotton could be obtained.

French weavers were very creative and put silk and wool together; they also created more varieties of cotton and muslin with different weaves and colors. This variety of materials were introduced to the Rheinland when Napoleon declared all the land up to the west bank of the Rhine River as French territory. However, when Prussia defeated the French and claimed back the Rheinland territory, tariffs were levied on French products and Trier folk could no longer get this kind of material. So in Germany there was a return to Tertig, a mixture of linen and wool.

In the early days of the 19th century, new materials for women's clothing began to allow some variety. Linen or linen and wool (Tertig) cloth, long a staple fabric for most of a women's everyday and Sunday/festival clothing was slowly challenged by something new, the so-called "Kattun."

Kattun is an older German word for calico cotton or chinz. It too became available in the Trier area at the time of Napoleon. It replaced linen in the wardrobe of many of the women of the middle class, as well as the wives of well-to-do farmers, even during the poverty years between 1816/17 and 1830/31.

At first the Kattun was plain but prints started appearing in Germany about 1810. After the fall of Napoleon, England again controlled the textile market and produced fabric with designs printed with four rollers. Not many women owned Kattun clothing with a woven design. The well-to-do in the Trier area did not have as much access to this kind of material as did those in France. People of quality were the most likely to own such clothes - which were very susceptible to theft.

COLORS

Woad Plant

Dye was needed to give clothing color. The first dyes were usually plant-based. Blue colors were gotten by using the roots of a plant called Waid in German, woad or wode in English.

Madder Roots

Red colors came from the red roots of the madder plant. Nuts and tree bark provided darker colors. There were drawbacks to these dyes. It was difficult to be certain what color fabric you would get; light vs dark vs spotted. The natural dyes stayed in place for awhile but did continue to fade as a garment was washed.

Indigo which was imported from the Indies dyed a much truer color of blue, and it always came out the same color so it was very popular in the Trier area in the middle of the 18th century. In its early years it was processed by mixing it with urine to get an especially good and long-lasting color.

Somewhere, I'm sure, there is a book, fiction or non-fiction, written in English, which describes the clothing of peasant women in great detail, now that I've just re-invented the wheel. But until I find that book, this brief study of the fabrics and colors of a lower class woman's clothing, which was so familiar to my female Trier-area ancestors, has explained their appearance in a way that makes it understandable to me.

An Unusual Book about Clothing - Introduction

2009-05-02T19:57:00.038-05:00

Cover of "Clothing in the Trier Region during the early 19th Century" by Martha Heit.

If you are going to write the history of your Trier area family, you may eventually want to address the question of dress for both men and women, including things like class distinctions in dress, types of materials, the difference between weekday and Sunday/festival attire, etc. That is my situation right now. But instead of having too little information, I am overwhelmed with information - all located in the book above.

I've been putting off this translation work because this book is the most difficult German book I own. Not only is the writing scholarly (difficult vocabulary) but it also is full of very minute details of the production of new fabrics in Europe in the years after Napoleon was defeated and Prussia took control - the 20 years between 1816 to 1836. I believe that every fact I could ever want to know is located somewhere in the 229 pages of small type. The trick is to find it.

The subtitle of the book is (I think) "Discoveries and Analysis from the Official Gazette of the Trier Government from 1816 to 1836." The paintings reproduced on the cover are of Johann Wilhelm Maret and his wife, Annette Babette Maret, born Coupette. Herr Maret was a confectioner and had a chocolate factory. In 1824 it was located at Nr. 17 Glockenstraße, Trier. Based on the couples' attire, the chocolate factory was a monetary success.

Why did I buy a book with such complicated text? Because, even though I originally thought there would be many books on the history of the clothing worn in Trier and in its surrounding villages at the time my ancestors lived there, I had miscalculated. Even the large, well-stocked bookstore in Trier had only one title that the salesclerk could sell me. It had almost no pictures and the text looked impossible, but I bought it anyway.

Ever since then I've hoped to find someone who could help me translate my book, but at this point I'm still on my own. I've decided to do the best I can, because, as the introduction to Kleidung im Trierer Land des frühen 19. Jahrhunderts says, this is a book that finally has managed to distinguish between the 'Tracht' costume worn mostly by farm people and the rapidly emerging more "European"' fashions of the city residents.

Here is an example. In about 1820, town people began to have access to calico (Kattun) prints for the first time. This kind of cotton cloth was mostly imported from England, which was a leader in producing fine cotton cloth for export. The citizens in the Trier area were not as well to do as those in surrounding areas, especially those in France, so Kattun dresses did not become available for the middle class or the prosperous farm wives immediately after it was introduced. Thus the wife of a wealthy man was the most likely owner of a calico print dress in the early 19th century.

As indicated in the subtitle, it seems that the book's author, in finding sources for a description of the clothing of the time, wisely studied the "Official Gazettes of the Trier Government, 1816 to 1836". Government clerks evidently recorded an interesting variety of details about crimes or unusual events and in the effort, produced multiple descriptions of the garments worn at that time. Here are some quotes to show you what I mean.

People on the Move - for many reasons

Some people on the move were jail escapees. One such was a man originally captured and confined in a city prison in Trier. But, as was common, he escaped wearing his prison garb. In July of 1816, the Government Gazette reported this fugitive:

He was dressed in "...jacket of gray cloth marked on front and back with the red-colored Latin letters B. G., short pants of a nondescript cloth, round hat, shoes and stockings." It was noted in the official entry that the escapee would quickly rid himself of the jacket with the red marking and try to obtain some clothing that would make him look like an ordinary citizen. With "dress coat and round hat" he could take on a new identity. It would seem from the description above that in 1816, men's pants were either long or short. If short, they reached below the knee, with stockings that covered the lower part of the leg.

Another type of "man on the move" was the draft dodger or deserter who carried falsified military discharge papers. Such a man might be clothed in a modified uniform such as this man sought in September of 1820 who, according to the Gazette, was wearing: “...Blue cap with cloth red stripes, blue jacket with gold collar, white vest with fine gold stripes, old light-gray pants with a narrow red stripe, boots with low heels…"

Fleeing thieves were often sought by the police. This well-dressed thief's clothing was described by a very conscientious and observant civil servant in 1822. "...plain shirt of red cotton, black cap coated with (a waterproofing) wax, a red and white striped neckerchief, dark green spanish-style jacket, green overcoat with gold buttons, white vest with blue stripes, long brown cloth pants tied at the bottom, Suwarow* boots with high heels, a box-shaped satchel"

The illustrative quotes I've chosen show how much information about clothing was contained in this Government Gazette, the Amtsblatt der Regeirung zu Trier. Who would expect that one of the best descriptions of the clothing of the time would be a part of official government records.

I've only begun my look at the clothing of the early 19th century and will continue stumbling through Martha Heit's amazing book in my next posts, not with speed but with singlemindedness.

*Count Suwarow of Russia led the campaign against Napoleon for Italy.

Fastnachtzeit and Karwoche

2009-04-06T14:46:00.004-05:00

Various kinds of Raspeln

My very first post to this blog in 2005 was about the Easter customs in small villages in the Hunsruck. But I've learned that the season leading up to Easter deserves mention as well. Here are some bits and pieces.

The Rheinlanders of today are still known for their Karneval celebrations which have the flavor of Mardi Gras. This was also true in earlier centuries. Karneval can be traced back to pagan Roman festivals. That may explain why Köln, Mainz, and Trier, which are ancient cities with Roman history, go all out for their carnivals on the Monday and Tuesday before Lent begins.

In the Middle Ages, Karneval gave the people a break from the tightly structured class system, as they were able to hide their social background behind imaginative masks and costumes. Poor people were able to mix with all other levels of society and share the celebration with them. In those days people would dress up as knights, damsels and even priests as a way of poking fun of them. In a similar way, people these days sometimes wear masks which make fun of well-known politicians or celebrities.

In the small villages, the two days before the beginning of Lent or the Fastnachtzeit were celebrated in a variety of ways. For instance, on the Monday before Lent, Rosenmontag, in the Hunsruck villages of Kreis Saarburg, the mothers baked special little Küchlein on the Monday before Easter. These were round or longish raised cakes similar to our doughnuts. They were made of flour, egg, a little sugar, and yeast. When the dough had risen, each doughnut/cake was fried in an iron pot in extremely hot oil. After the typical Rosenmontag meal of potato soup, the boys in each household would spear a Küchlein with a sharp stick. Pulling on a stocking cap and a mask, they went from house to house with their spears, asking for eggs and ham.

On the Tuesday before Lent (Fastnachtsdienstag), in many of the small Hunsruck villages, one would probably find the Fastnachtsbären, the "Mardi Gras" bear. One or two young men were wrapped in straw. After they put on bear-head masks, they were chained or tied together and led around the village by their keepers. The straw bears growled and danced to the tinny sound of tambourines. The bears pranced their way to each house door and growled ferociously until their "keepers" were given ham, eggs or money. Later there was a happy celebration by the bears and their keepers in the local Wirtshaus.

Lent began with fasting toward the end of winter. When the farmers in Kreis Saarburg began their spring farm work, it was the sign that Karwoche, the solemn week leading up to Easter was not far away. This special week of preparation before Easter was filled with religious customs, many from medieval times.

"Kar" comes from Old High German word "kara" meaning grief, complain or grieve. Thus it was a week to meditate on the events leading up to Good Friday, called Karfreitag in German. The customs of the week, some with a history going back to the Middle Ages, were meant to symbolize the inner grieving for Christ as he came closer and closer to his crucifixion and death.

In Catholic services, one of the signs of mourning for the suffering and death of Christ was (and still is) the cessation of the use of any kind of musical instrument or any bells on Gründonnerstag, Holy Thursday. After the organ and choir performed the Latin "Gloria" of the mass, the choir sang a capella and the organ and bells were silent until Easter Sunday.

Thus in Kreis Saarburg, during processions and at mass, Kleppern or Raspeln took the place of the bells from Karfreitag on. Instead of tolling the bell, altar boys with wooden ratchets or clappers walked through the streets or from house to house, usually in procession, reminding people of the solemnity of the day. There sounds were also a substitute for the ringing of the church bells for the Angelus at six a.m, noon, and six p.m.

Some historians believe that the Kleppern and Raspeln were used in pre-Christian times to scare away the ghosts of winter in order to make way for the spring season.

Ewald Meier, the author of the book "Irsch/Saar: Geschichte eines Dorfes" demonstrated one of the Raspeln for me when we visited the village museum in Zerf. There should never be one unceasing sound for the Raspel, Ewald said, but rather a rhythmic tempo. Ewald described his particular style as this: rum-pause-rum-pause-rum rum rum. A boy beside him might use another rhythm, those coming behind chose distinctive rhythms as well. There was quite a noise as several boys walked the streets of the village together, performing their Karwoche duty.

Finally it was Easter Sunday. The Hunsruck customs can be found in my post at http://19thcenturyrhinelandlive.blogspot.com/2005/06/easter-in-saar-hunsrck-region.htm

Other sources:
www.mckinnonsc.vic.edu.au/la/lote/german/links/topics/karneval.htm

http://www.german-easter-holiday.com/

Christiane Becker. Die Hunsrücker Küche.

Tidbits Tell a Tailor's Story

2009-03-06T17:15:00.018-06:00

The Schneider's helpers in sewing position

If you go to an Archive such as the one in Koblenz where your ancestors' emigration papers are preserved, a well-meaning archivist may caution you that there is not much point in trying to use these documents for genealogical purposes. If you already know the names and the birth dates of the immigrants and the date they left for North America, there is little to be gained by reading “boiler plate” documents that are the same for everyone.

Sometimes this is true. But in many applications there are tidbits of information that are precious to those of us who want to develop a robust family history. This was certainly the case for my 2nd great grandfather's younger brother, Michael.

Michael Meier was a 24-year-old tailor when he applied for permission to emigrate to North America in September 1856 according to an index in the Family History Library in Salt Lake City. Before my trip to the Koblenz Archive to find his actual emigration documents, I had viewed him as a daring young man who wanted to explore a new country. He was single; therefore he was free to take chances. He had dreams of wealth and prosperity in a land of freedom.
After having his emigration papers translated, I have begun to envision a very different young man.

We start with Michael's letter for permission to leave Irsch for a better life in America. (I've noted in bold the information I feel is important in understanding Michael's story). This letter was the first step in the immigration process and probably dictated to Michael by Burgermeister Bodem.

A most obedient petition of Michael Meier, 24 years old, tailor at Irsch, requesting permission to emigrate.

Your Grace,
I give a most obedient notice that I am of a mind to emigrate to America immediately. The reason for my emigration lies in that I have a sister there who has been there for a year. I wish to visit her and at the same time be able to be trained in the profession of a tailor.

Regarding military service duty, in my view, nothing stands in the way. In 1854 I was declared by the … Department Reserve Commission to be totally unfit for field and garrison service. Therefore, I promise not to join the service of any foreign army, rather only intend for the mentioned purpose of emigration. But because I need a permission to emigrate for this purpose, I take the liberty, your grace, most obediently, to petition, most graciously, that you request for me at the respective office [of Saarburg]

Respectfully signed,
Your most obedient petitioner supplicant
Michael Meier

Along with the application papers sent from Beurig to Saarburg to Trier, a verification of Michael's unsuitability for induction into the Prussian military service was included. In summary it said that in 1854 the military commission in Saarburg had declared Michael Meier to be completely unfit for military service because he was too short and also because he had ulcerous sores on his feet. It was noted that Michael had not yet contracted a ship passage with any agent.

Before I had the information above, I sometimes wondered why Michael had chosen to become a tailor. He came from a family line that had been land-owning farmers for several generations. Yet Michael did not want to work on the land he and his only brother would inherit from their father. Learning about Michael's problem with foot sores, I could guess at the reason for Michael's occupational decision. A tailor or a tailor's helper could spend much of his work day sitting and sewing, as illustrated in the decorative beer stein above.

According to information in the German version of Wikipedia, the tailor sat in a cross legged or Schneidersitz position on a wooden table. This was a good method for sewing long seams and keeping the fabric off of the floor. The four most important tools of a Schneider were needles, thread, an ell measure, and a scissors.

The same Wikipedia article also described the pecking order in the tailor's workshop when guilds ruled the lives of all craftsmen. The master tailor was in charge. He had started as an apprentice, moved on to become a journeyman/Geselle and finally was certified as a master tailor. There were also Nähknecht. These were semi-skilled assistants to the tailor and not usually eligible to rise into a higher position because of physical disability or health problems. They learned only the basics of sewing, mostly closing uncomplicated seams. They would be found sitting on the wooden table stitching side seams, trouser seams, sleeve seams, etc.

An article in Der Blumenbaum, the Quarterly Newsletter of the Sacramento German Genealogical Society gave a good deal more information about the tailor's craft. Here is a brief summary:

Young men started as an apprentice in a trade, such as shoemaker, capenter, blacksmith, tailer, etc. After three to six years of training, it was time for a young apprentice to prove his worth and learn from other masters and from a variety of experiences in order to become a master himself. In English, this would be a journeyman, in Germany a Geselle. And "journey men" they were, for they were required to leave their home villages and with empty pockets travel to other villages and towns to work for masters who could teach them new techniques and where they could perfect their craft. This journey lasted three years and one day and was known by its common name "on der Walz" (on the journey). And it was a journey, for the Geselle could not wander closer than 30 miles to his home village.

Gesellen on der Walz

The early journeymen belonged to the guilds of the middle ages and the tradition continued into the 19th century. Usually an experienced journeyman accompanied the new Geselle for a week or two. After that, the young man was on his own to find work - but never for more than three months in one place for he must remain a traveler, a stranger.

A uniform of sorts identified the Geselle as an honorable stranger in the town and also indicated what kind of craftsman he might be. A wood worker of any kind would wear a dark color like brown or black, the color of wood. Lighter colors like gray or beige, were worn by men who worked with stone.

Even more than clothing color, the eight buttons set in a double row on his vest, his pants with a flared leg, a collarless white shirt, and a coat with six buttons were signs of a free journeyman out in the world to sharpen his skills. The eight buttons on the vest were meant to represent his eight-hour workday while the six buttons on his coat signified the length of the work week. His hat was one of two kinds. Schlapphut was wide brimmed and floppy as in the drawing above. The "Zylinder" was a top hat, either half or full size. A tie in the color of his guild or lodge completed his traveling uniform.

He carried only few items. One was a "Stenz", a carved cane; another was his pack in which he kept his work clothes and a satchel with his tools, and his diary or Wanderbuch. In it each master for whom he had worked recorded the date and place of the labor. The master also prepared an "Empfehlungskarte, a card similar to a letter of recommendation that vouched for the competence of the Geselle.

Wanderbuch

With the invention of the sewing machine in the middle of the 19th century, the work of the tailor underwent a fundamental change. Long seams were closed by the sewing machine, not by a Nähknecht, an apprentice, or a tailor sitting on a table.

With all of the bits and pieces of information I have learned about young Michael Meier and his chosen trade, my instincts tell me that he was not that adventurous young man off to make his fortune in America. Michael had limited options. He had sores on his feet that prevented marching with an army. Work on the farm required constant standing and walking during the growing and harvesting season. He had chosen a craft that would allow him to earn a living in spite of this handicap. But in order to advance from an apprentice to a skilled master, he was required to walk from town to town to town for three years. This was not something he could undertake. He was trapped as a Nähknecht, sewing long seams for a master who would pay him very little.

His sister Anna and her husband lived in America. Without the strict guild rules for a German master tailor, Michael might have a chance at such a position for himself, learning the trade without making a three-year journey in order to qualify. Did he want to be more than a poorly paid tailor's helper?

Five years later, in 1861, when Michael's brother Johann applied for emigration permission, Mayor Bodem of Beurig penned this explanation as Johann's reason for leaving Irsch: "...to emigrate to North America where he already has two brothers-in-law." Johann did not mention having a brother in America.

So while my knowlege of Michael's life in Irsch is now much clearer and while I have learned so much about the difficult road to becoming a craftsman of any kind, Michael's journey after he obtained his emigration papers remains a mystery for me. I have not been able to find a good match for him in any US census or any ship passenger index. What happened to Michael after September 9, 1856? Did he reach America? Oh how I'd like to know!

(Note: In my previous post, I outlined the typical emigration documents from the Prussian Government.)
Sources:
Der Blumenbaum, Sacramento Genealogical Society, Vol. 26, No. 3: Jan, Feb, March 2009; http://de.wikipedia.org/; Division of the Interior of the Royal Government at Trier, Vol. 10, Koblenz Abt 442, Nr. 180 p. 283-287

Pictures:

http://www.brandenburg1260.de/quedlinburg04-4.jpg

www.rechtschaffene-zimmerer.de/

www.gutenberg-museum.de/ index.php

Travels of the Letters in an Emigration File

2009-01-31T20:43:00.000-06:00

Webpage "Our American Roots" showing emigration paper from Irrel, Bitburg, Rheinland kept at the Landeshauptarchive Koblenz

Some people who emigrated in the 19th century generated a plethora of paperwork, mostly in the form of letters, when they asked permission to leave their country. I discovered this by accident when I decided to see if I could find a copy of the passport issued to Johann Meier, my great-great grandfather.

At first I was disappointed that no passport copy could be found in the State Archive at Koblenz, Germany. Instead, there were several pages written in a mostly illegible (to me) handwriting that were connected to the emigration of Johann. However, I was touching one page containing the signature of my great-great grandfather. I was thrilled and, at the same time, disappointed because I had no idea if important information might be hidden in the unintelligible handwriting above his signature or in the other documents.

The helpful archivist at the Koblenz Archive read a small portion of one of the documents to me. It told of a problem concerning Johann Meier's military service which had developed and generated an unusual amount of paperwork. This set me to wondering. Where were the officials located who had the power to give approvals to the application? What Government office/s handled the application? How long a time passed before Johann Meier was informed of his problem? Once the problem was resolved, did the original application continue or did Johann have to start over? I wanted to know the rest of the story.

A year later, I found a researcher able to go to the Archive in Koblenz and translate each page of the emigration records for my great-great grandfather. Part of his assignment was to note where these letters traveled in the amount of time between Johann Meier's original application to emigrate on February 20 and the date when the final permission letter of March 5 which had the power to permit Johann Meier and his family to start the process of making the long trip to Wisconsin.

In this post, I've detailed the sequence of the correspondence for Johann Meier's emigration permission. I've noted in bold the date and place where each piece of correspondence was written.

On 20 Feb 1861 there was a hearing at Beurig, the mayorality for both Irsch and Beurig. It was conducted by the Bürgermeister (mayor) Nikolaus Bodem. The result of this hearing was Johann's Meier's "declaration of intent to emigrate" document as handwritten by Herr Bodem.

"Today, farmer Johann Meier, 35 years old, of no military obligation, resident of Irsch, appeared before the undersigned mayor and declared that he intends, with his wife Magdalena Rauls, 33 years old, and his four children Mathias Meier, 11 yrs., Anna Meier, 9 yrs., Johann Meier, 3 yrs., Michel Meier 15 months; to emigrate to North America where he already has two brothers-in-law." To this end, he wants to receive the requisite permission to emigrate.

"Upon his declaration, the undersigned mayor warned him:
1. that on receiving the permission to emigrate, they will, from that point forward, no longer be regarded as Prussian subjects;
2. that their readmission to the fatherland may be denied if such is found to raise any concern;
3. the the permission is null and void if emigration does not actually take place within the specified period."

"After being read the above, the petitioner approved, cosigned and then deposited the requisite 15 Silver Groschens for the consent"

(signed) Johann Meier
(signed) Bürgermeister Bodem*

The above official letter was accompanied by a second brief letter, as follows:

"A br. m. (possibly an abbreviation of the Latin brevi manu, meaning brief handwriting) to his grace the Royal County Commissioner Mersmann at Saarburg with fifteen Silver Groschens for the consent stamp, and the application to be most obediently presented. The said Meier and the members of his family are not on trial in any court case, and have paid their taxes and community fees as far as they are obligated."
Beurig 21 February 1861
(signed) Bürgermeister Bodem*

The above letters were sent on February 21, 1861 to the head administrator of the Saarburg District, Landrat Mersmann. He was the representative of the Prussian Government in an area about the size of an average county in the United States. Evidently, Herr Mersmann dutifully and promptly forwarded this application to the Royal [Prussian] Government, Department of the Interior. On February 22, 1861 he wrote:

"A letter to the Royal Government of the Interior of Trier. To be presented obediently with the application for the gracious issuing of the requested permission to emigrate."
(signed) The Royal County Commissioner Mersmann

On February 27 1861, a week after Johann Meier had made his emigration request, this terse communication was composed by Herr Arndt of the Department of the Interior at Trier and addressed to Landrat Mersmann:

"Originally for the immediate attention of Mr. Examiner for narrower clarification as to why the said Meier, 35 years old is of no military obligation. Please return [an explanation] within eight days!"
Trier, 27 February 1861
(signed) R. R. Arndt

Herr Mersmann lost no time in replying to the correspondence from Trier. I will never know if he had the necessary record concerning Johann Meier's military service in his office, or if he contacted Herr Bürgermeister Bodem or Johann Meier or both of them. But this communication was sent from Saarburg to Trier on March 1, 1861.

"The Royal Government Department of the Interior at Trier, most obediently, with the instruction to remit [confirm] that in 1847 the applicant was designated Battery A by the Deputy Reserve Commission because of Mindermaaß** and has no military obligation."
Saarburg, the 1st of March 1861
The Royal County Commissioner Mersmann"

Johann Meier was most likely unaware of the problem which had developed after his emigration request had been signed and the fee paid. Perhaps he never knew that his application permission was generating documents that were going back and forth between Saarburg and Trier.

The final documents in the emigration file of Johann Meier are dated March 5, 1861 and were sent to Saarburg from Trier.

"To the Royal County Commissioner at Saarburg
Release Certificate of : Johann Meier of Irsch, Saarburg County"

"Enclosed find the certificate of release for Johann Meier of Irsch requested by your office per brevi manu [short letter] Nr. 683 of the 22nd of the prior month. The requested certificate of release is for Johann Meier of Irsch who intends to emigrate to North America. Please deliver the release to him and send to us the Stamp fee of 15 Silver Groschens."

The Release Certificate reads:

"The Royal government named below certifies herewith that the following have been granted a release from the Association of Prussian Subjects:

Farmer Johann Meier, 35 years old from Irsch, Saarburg County, at his request and for the purpose of his emigration to North America; as well as his wife Magdalena Rauls, 33 years old, and the following minor children in the father's custody: 1. Mathias Meier, 11 years old; 2. Anna Meier, 9 years old; 3. Johann Meier, 3 years old; 4. Michel Meier 15 months old.

This release certificate is valid only for the persons expressly named as of the date of its issuing. The release effectuates the loss of status [rights] as a Prussian Subject. The release certificate expires if not made use of within three months of its issuing."
Trier, 5 March 1861
Royal Prussian Government; Department of the Interior

Beurig and Saarburg were less than a quarter of a mile apart. It is easy to picture a messenger delivering documents betweeen the offices of the Mayor of Beurig and the Landrat of Saarburg. Saarburg and Trier are about 14 miles apart and were sent by the Prussian postal system. Thus here is the path of great great grandfather's emigration papers:

Johann Meyer of Irsch -------> To Bürgermeister Bodem, Beurig ------->To Landrat Mersmann, Saarburg------>To Herr R.R. Arndts, Royal Department of the Interior in Trier----->To Landrat Mersmann, Saarburg------>To Herr R.R. Arndts, Deparment of the Interior in Trier------>To Landrat Mersmann, Saarburg------->To Bürgermeister Bodem, Beurig------->To Johann Meier, former citizen of Irsch.

"Eisenbahn gegen Postkutsche
("Train against postal coach")

Documents were no doubt handled by postal coach in 1861, since the railroad connecting Saarburg and Trier had only recently been finished. Eventually the railroads put the postal coaches out of existence. But it would seem that for short distance delivery, the postal coach of 1861 may have been just as timely as today's U.S. mail system.

* Mayor Bodem had a flamboyant signature; one of which he was probably very proud.
** Mindermaß is a term which means that Johann Meier was too short for military service.

For more information about the emigration process, see my archived post for April, 2006.

Source:
Abteilung des Innern der Königlichen Regierung zu Trier, Vol. 12, Seite 1-746, Classe V, Section 1, Littera C, Koblenz Abt. 442 Nr. 181

Nikolaus, Knecht Ruprecht, and the "Cheeky" Girl

2008-12-19T16:31:00.021-06:00

In past posts, I've written about Saint Nikolaus Eve, both in the early centuries and in more recent times. But I can't resist one more St. Nikolaus story, this one from perhaps 50 or so years ago. You've probably heard of the film "The Nightmare before Christmas." This one could be called "The Nightmare before St. Nikolaus Day". A woman who lived in Irsch as a child and experienced a fearsome Nikolaus visit tells her story like this:

The Nikolaus Eve at our Home

For my siblings and me, the observance of Nikolaus Eve was full of stress because Nikolaus brought his assistant, the servant Ruprecht (Knecht-Ruprecht in German*). And he left behind a very fearful impression on me.

Now the evening was here and the banging and chain rattling on the wooden steps outside our door were so great that it was frightening and we were afraid. The kitchen door was flung open with great force and Nikolaus and Knecht Ruprecht came inside.

Knecht Ruprect's red tongue showed all the while because he let it hang out of his mouth. On his back he lugged a sack that was so big that a child would fit inside. Two long, stuffed stockings with shoes sewed to them were stuck to the outside of the bag, a sight that scared me stiff because I thought I would be stuck to the bag in the same way. I started to bawl.

Nikolaus took his big book and quickly leafed through it as if he already knew what the devil had written in it. He looked at me and then said that I had been rude to my Aunt Lena. And he had observed that, in the street, I was a cheeky child. He was going to take me with him, just as I had feared. But before he took me away, I should pray the "Our Father."

As I finished the Our Father, Knecht Ruprecht tugged at me. But I held on to the cutlery drawer. I pulled on it with force and it swung out of the cupboard with a dreadful clanging.

My grandma came down the stairs and helped me out of my jam. In that moment, I loved my grandma more than ever.

As a punishment, Nikolaus gave me a stick and he and Ruprecht started away. But my grandma wasn't finished with them; she snatched a gift from Nikolaus. Face beaming, she brought it to me

Thus ends the story submitted by Hedwig Rice to the monthly Irsch internet newsletter - sent free to subscribers with an interest in reading it.

My family, descended from ancestors who once lived in Irsch, also celebrated St. Nicholas Eve. After reading Frau Rice's story, I'm grateful that St. Nicholas came alone to our Wisconsin farm home and the only sound we heard was of his sleighbells. Never did our cutlery drawer suffer from a visit from St. Nicholas!

*For more on the history of Sankt Nikolaus and Knecht Ruprecht, use the search box at the top of the page.

Salt Lake City Discovery

2008-11-02T17:13:00.000-06:00

Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints Temple in the foreground, the Tabernacle in the center, and our hotel (the Plaza) and the Family History Library at the far left (Photo by Carole Kortenhof)

Eliminating possibilities - that's mostly what I did during my stay in Salt Lake City last month. I can't complain, or course, because previous visits have given me the names and stories of my ancestors from Irsch, Zerf, and Serrig in Kreis Saarburg. By now, though, I am seeking bits and pieces, looking for hints to collateral line relatives whose success at hiding from me could stymie Sherlock Holmes himself.

One interesting snippet that I discovered was from The Antwerp Emigration Index by Charles Hall. I had never paid much attention to it because it covers only one year, 1855, and only one port. This time I picked it up on the offhand chance that it would help me solve a mystery that so far has me totally frustrated.

I am searching for the younger sister of my 2nd great grandfather, Johann Meier. When he emigrated in 1860, he told the Mayor of Beurich, who was taking his application, that he was going to America to improve his life and that he already had two brother-in-laws in America. One brother-in-law was Matthias Rauls, the brother of Johann's wife, Magdelena. The other had to be the husband of his sister Anna. Unfortunately, Anna did not marry in the parish church of Irsch, her home parish. It's possible that she married in her husband's parish and then the two left for America. It is also possible that she decided to emigrate when she was still single and left before any real emigration records are available, marrying somewhere in her adopted homeland. Thus I don't know if I am searching for Anna Meier or Anna _______. Complicating my life is the fact that emigration records from the Trier area before 1856 do not seem to have been kept.

After searching for Anna's marriage record in the parishes neighboring her home village of Irsch and finding nothing, I decided to see if the 1855 Antwerp Emigration Index showed any trace of her. Once again, no Anna Meier. But what I did find delighted me. In that year, 37 residents of Zerf/Frommersbach left Antwerp for America on the ship Daylight.

I have a 662 page book about the history of Zerf (in German) and it lists all of the emigrants who were found in emigration documents filed in the Koblenz Archive. Not any of the thirty-seven passengers on the Ship Daylight are named in that history. So even though I did not find anyone I was looking for, I'm able to write my own personal addendum to "Der Hochwaldort Zerf am Fuße des Hunsrücks" by Edgar Christoffel. And I'll keep looking for Anna.

We know that people from the Rhineland began to emigrate in the 1840s. Passports were issued at that time, but the Archive at Koblenz does not have the paperwork which made those passports possible to locate for the Trier and Saarburg region. It was not until about 1857 that a systematic effort was undertaken to keep emigration papers.

Before the completion of the Trier to Saarbrucken railroad in 1860, Antwerp was the most accessible seaport for emigrants leaving the Trier and Saarburg area for other countries.

According to the introduction to the book, The Antwerp Emigration Index was extracted and compiled by the non-profit organization, Heritage International. “It deals with emigrants from Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Belgium, France and the Netherlands…There are in excess of 5,100 immigrants whose origins are given here.“ Heritage International used the passenger records of 38 ships which left the port of Antwerp in the year 1855. “…Destinations of the emigrants were New York, Boston, New Orleans, Rio Grande & Australia.”

Unfortunately, the researchers did not give the destination of each one of the 38 sailings (most of the ships sailed two times from Antwerp to their destination), nor did they give sailing dates, except that they gave each ship a number according to its first departure date of the year. The Zerf emigrants were on Ship No. 28, the Daylight. It left Antwerp during the last third of the sailing season and yet this was its first sailing from the port of Antwerp.

The passenger list information furnished in the Antwerp Emigration Index gives: 1. Passenger Name 2. Age 3. Place (whether of residence or birth is not clear) 4. Ship Number 5. Place Where Passport Was Issued. (These were people who were emigrating legally and almost all of them had a passport that was issued in Trier)

Aboard the Ship Daylight
1. Johann Allmescheid, age 57, from Oberzerf
2. Mary Allmescheid, age 51, from Oberzerf
3. Johann Baermohen, age 28 from Zerf
4. Johanna Baermohen, age 39 from Zerf
5. Nikolaus Bernardz(y), age 26, from Oberzerf
6. Susanna, Brixus, age 44, from Zerf
7. Johann Peter Christ, age 52, from Zerf
8. Gert. Christ, Gert., age 47, from Zerf
9. Matthias Eiler, age 53, from Zerf
10. M. Eiler, age 50, from Zerf
11. Matthias Lillig, age 37, from Zerf
12. Sus. Lillig, age 40, from Zerf
13. Johannes Lillig, age 39, from Zerf
14. Margaretha Lillig, age 37, from Zerf
15. Michael Maier, age 32, from Zerf
16. Sus. Maier, age 33, from Zerf
17. Johannes Maier, age 56, from Zerf
18. Helena Maier, age 47, from Zerf
19. Nic. Merz, age 48, from Zerf
20. M. Merz, age 43, from Zerf
21. Jacob Muller, age 58, from Zerf
22. Johannes Muller, age 38, from Zerf
23. Cath. Muller, age 42, from Zerf
24. Joh. Muller, age 39, from Zerf
25. Moore Muller, age 48, from Zerf
26. Joh. Palm, age 57, from Frommersbach
27. A. Palm, age 57, from Frommersbach
28. Johannes Schneider, age 39, from Zerf
29. Barb. Schneider, age 39, from Zerf
30. Nic. Schneider, age 53, from Zerf
31. Johannes Schommer, age 42, from Frommersbach
32. A. Schommer, age 36, from Frommersbach
33. Math. Schwindling, age 53, from Zerf
34. Cath. Schwindling, age 56, from Zerf
35. Pet. Schwindling, age 30, from Zerf
36. Susanna Schwindling, age 27, from Zerf
37. Johannes Wagner, age 58, from Zerf

A few random thoughts about this boatload of Zerf villagers. The average age of the emigrants was 47.7 years old and 30 per cent of the emigrants were over 50. And something seems to be missing - no children are listed - and I have no explanation why!

The Village School

2008-09-12T14:05:00.000-05:00

Top: "Auf der Eselbank" (the donkey bench for fools), woodcut from around 1880
Bottom: A music lesson

As teachers return to their classrooms for the school season, it seems a good time to step back into history and look at the typical classroom in small villages in the Saarburg area. There is a wealth of material about education in the villages of Irsch, Zerf, and Serrig (Kreis Saarburg), taken from three village history books written by Ewald Meyer, Edward Christoffel, and Klaus Hammächer as well as from the Roscheiderhof on-line museum tour.

Ewald Meyer and Edward Christoffel were teachers in Saarburg before their retirement, and it isn't surprising that they looked at schooling from the perspective of both the school teacher and of the students whom they taught. Because their books overwhelm me with information, I'm going to cherry pick the facts that appeal to me and that I may want to find again later. What a nice feature of Blogspot that anyone can "word search" the entire blog with words like "school" or "teacher" or "1849" or"eselbank" (the donkey bench was the equivalent of wearing a dunce cap)

Education in early times

Ewald Meyer describes the beginnings of the occupation of schoolmaster in the very early days of the village of Irsch. He says that in the beginning, there were no schoolhouses. The schoolteacher went from house to house to teach, probably receiving payment in kind at each place that took him in. The first reference to a salary for a teacher is found in the 1302 when Irsch was governed by the Electors in Trier (Archbishops who were princes of the church and who participanted with the secular princes in governing the German states). The mention of salaries for teachers does not occur in any further documents until the end of the 17th century.

By 1780, Irsch and Serrig, which were sister parishes, had school houses that were rated as "good" upon an inspection by Pastor Canaris from Konz, who had been designated as school visitor by the Trier Archbishop. The school in Beurich, about a mile from Irsch, was not completely finished. The children of Ockfen and Krutweiler received their education in the main room of various houses in those villages. There were 31 boys and 25 girls enrolled in the Irsch school; approximately the same number in Serrig. The emphasis was on reading. None of the children in Serrig could write or do arithmetic; in Irsch there were five boys who could write as well as read.

The teacher/sacristen of Irsch was paid in money (the alb) and grain for his church duties such as grave digging. He received more for digging an adult parish member's grave than for that of a child. He had a small piece of meadow land, enough to give him about a wagonload of hay and three very small pieces of garden. He shared in the drudgery and duties of any ordinary citizen of the village except that he did not have to take a turn as village watchman. When a storm was approaching, he would be the one to ring the church bells. Each child taught to read and write brought him 14 alb; reading only brought him 12 alb.

Teaching School in the "French Time"

Irsch and Zerf became a part of France when Napolean redrew the map of Europe. Under the new regime, the children were to be educated with the ideals of the French revolution, says Edgar Christofel. Every community was to have a primary school. In Zerf, the municipal administrator, who had the reponsibility for hiring a teacher, chose Nikolaus Goetten, the son of the retired Caspar Goetten, who had been the village teacher in the time of the Electors.

The curriculum was ambitious in the early years of the French government. In addition to reading and writing in both German and French, the students were to be taught arithmetic, natural history, health and how to be a "moral" citizen of this new French Republican government. Religious instruction was not to be given.

This ambitious educational curriculum was hindered greatly by the lack of education of the teachers (a common problem in most villages) as well as the meager pay. There were courses designed to improve instruction offered by the Catholic Church, and Herr Goetten of Zerf had taken the short training course offered by the seminary at St. Mathias in Trier. That first curriculum initiated by the French government fell by the wayside by 1802. The revised curriculum consisted of reading, writing, arithmetic, and French (if the teacher was knowledgeable in that language). By 1809, the curriculum had been reduced to reading, writing, and "a basic understanding of arithmetic." Religious instruction was again allowed, since almost all the schools were still connected to the village churches.

Most of the Zerf teachers at this time had to supplement the pittance they received from the villages for their work as teachers. They lived in the schoolhouse or taught out of their own homes. The Zerf teacher, Nikolaus Goetten, lived in a cold damp schoolhouse which was badly built and covered with a straw roof.

Schools in the Early Days of Prussian Rule

According to the Irsch parish history, there was a school inspection in November of 1816. The report on school conditions identifies Matthias Romey as the only teacher for the school. It says that this teacher "earned very little in the way of money or produce" and lived, with his wife, in the school building. Since he taught only from mid-November until Easter each year, he supplemented his income by spinning wool. The report then noted that he did his job happily and was "loved and treasured" by the community.

Most teachers in village schools had to have additional work, especially in the months when school was not in session, a period from Easter until the feast of St. Martin on November 11. Such jobs as pig herder or broom binder provided supplementary income so that the village teachers could support their families. One school report noted that the teacher carried out his trade as a broom binder whenever his class became too clamorous, leaving the classroom to get away from the noise.

In 1816 there were about 100 children in the Irsch schoolhouse which, as just mentioned, was also living quarters for Herr Romey and his wife. It was much too small to be a satisfactory place of learning. The priest who oversaw the school villages tried to help the community develop a plan for a larger building in 1819. However, there was so much poverty that the villagers could not come up with enough money for such a project and no help was forthcoming from the Prussian government. Finally, in 1828 a new "double schoolhouse" was built. The village added another teacher's house in 1833 when a second teacher was hired. The principal subjects taught were reading, writing, arithmetic, and Bible instruction.

Zerf too needed another teacher. The school population was as high as 100 students in 1826. As in Irsch, school subjects were reading, writing and arithmetic along with religious instruction. The children were divided, boys in one section, girls in another. But by 1837 the students were separated in a new way, into a lower school and an upper school. It seems, from Herr Christofel's account, that both sections were instructed by the one teacher, Nicholas Goetten until 1833 when another teacher (unnamed) was hired. Herr Goetten was 60 years old at that time. In addition, he performed the duties of a sacristan for the church. Nikolaus Trapp began a teaching career in Zerf when he was engaged to teach the older children in 1837. At this time he also took over the duties of sacristan. Herr Goetten continued teaching because he had no pension and no other means of support. This was the situation for most teachers well past the mid-point of the century.

Klaus Hammächer, in his history of the village of Serrig, the sister parish of Irsch, says that the schoolrooms of the early 19th century were usually also the home of the teacher, since most villages could not afford a separate residence for him. The teacher's workroom was also the living quarters for him and his family and inadequate for either one. Often the classroom was narrow and humble, cold and damp, not a good place for instruction or for hygiene. Its furnishings were paltry; there was no regulation of what equipment a schoolroom should have. Long planks served as school benches, and the students were crowded on to them. Their writing table served double duty as the eating table of the teacher's family or a worktable for whatever occupation the teacher had to supplement his income. The teacher's desk might be a small wall table, if such a thing was available at all.

School in the Second Half of the 19th Century

"Wooden benches arranged in even rows, blackboard rags tied to the slates, and a slightly raised desk in front of the class - this is how a classroom looked during the Empire." Roscheiderhof Museum describes its recreation of a village classroom that dates from sometime around 1890.

The guide to the Roscheiderhof Museum says that by the midpoint of the 19th century, the concept of universal education and teacher training was common in all areas of Prussian Empire. Usually schools in the country had only one class, where the village children were taught by one teacher only, from the first year of schooling to the eighth. This meant the schoolroom was often bursting at the seams. The guiding figure for class size was 60 pupils, but often there were up to 100 children sitting on the benches. It is therefore understandable if lessons seemed to be taught by rote: the teacher presented the material, the pupils learned it by repeating it or copying it.

Apart from reading, writing and arithmetic, music and religion were very important subjects in the schools of the Empire. Not only were hymns practiced in music lessons, but also patriotic songs which were sung on high holidays such as the Emperor's birthday. Physical exercise was considered part of the school's contribution to pre-military training, and this is why only boys had it. They had to line up in pairs and practice marching on the teacher's orders. Girls had handiwork lessons at the same time. They usually crocheted, knitted and darned, but also cooking, baking and preserving were taught.

Religious instruction was usually given by the pastors. A distinction was made between Bible history and "Catechism". In addition to this religious instruction the church had a great influence on school life. Educating the children to be good Christians was the goal. In order to achieve this, the village youth were subjected to the authority of the pastor and teacher beyond the school room. Anyone who was caught stealing apples in the afternoon or seen out on the streets at a late hour, or who did not attend mass before school was punished with a caning. School was supposed to instill discipline, and a good upbringing was considered more important than education.

By the 1890's, schools were improving as the economy all over the Prussian empire got better. There were schools with the proper furniture and with lists of materials that every single-class school must have, such as a globe, wall maps, pictures for the study of natural science, violin, abacus, and two large blackboards. Especially in the cities, a child beginning school was given a Schultüten, a large, cone-shaped parcel filled with pencils, rulers, crayons, candy and other small items to mark the special occasion.

Christoffel, Edgar. Der Hochwald Zerf am Fuße des Hunsrücks. Verlag W. Rasier, Saarburg 1981.
Meyer, Ewald. Irsch/Saar: Geschichte eines Dorfes. Ewald Meyer, 54451 Irsch, 2002
Hammächer, Klaus. Serrig: Landschaft, Geschichte & Geschichten. 2002
http://www.roscheiderhof.de/topframe-e.html
"The Schooling of German Youth," Der Blumenbaum. Sacramento German Genealogy Society, Nov.,Dec. 2005

When They Stepped Ashore

2008-08-02T23:46:00.001-05:00

April 9, 1861. What an unforgetable day it must have been for my Meier ancestors and the other immigrant from the village of Irsch bei Saarburg when they saw their adopted country for the first time.

After more than four weeks in the cramped and dark steerage quarters of the ship Rattler with only the endless ocean as their scenery, land appeared on the horizon. They were nearing the bay of New York where the ship would drop anchor. Soon Johann and Magdalena Meier and their children would set foot on land for the first time in over a month. Magdalena, my great-great grandmother, who was then three months pregnant must have thanked God not only for their safe journey but also for the long-awaited cessation of the rocking motion that had gone on for 34 days. Whether the day was sunny and clear or dark with rain, all the emigrants must have crowded the deck as the sailors were preparing the ship to anchor in the port of New York City.

I don’t have any letters written home to Germany that describe the trip and the first day in the new world. But I have found two stories in The New York Times that allow me to better imagine the minor but fascinating details that can only be provided by a contemporary’s view of the landing, the disembarking, and the first day inside of Castle Garden.

One newspaper piece was written in 1855 by a New York Times reporter sent to provide the paper's readers with an account of the Castle Garden facility that had only recently opened. The second piece was a description provided to The New York Times by a Female steerage passenger on the Ship Scotland which landed in New York Harbor in December of 1866.

Sound-bite reporting and tight editing were unheard of in the 19th century. We may smile at the florid descriptions allowed in the early newspapers, so different from the news we read in our newspapers today. But those verbose stories are filled with the details that give the true flavor of the early days of Castle Garden.

Passenger: “We had seen multitudes of churches, public buildings, factories, stores, and other structures, as we steamed up the Bay, but the one we had now arrived at, Castle Garden, attracted particular attention, principally, in all probability, from its being the emigrants' destination. The eye of a military man would have singled it out first and foremost as a structure pertaining to his profession, while the eye of a civilian or of an ordinary observer would have taken it for a huge reservoir or gas-holder.”

Did my Meier ancestors walk down a gangplank right onto the boards of the pier? Perhaps. But so many ships sailed into the New York’s harbor that not all of them could find a free dock there. Some ships remained out in the bay and their passengers were taken to the shore by barges pulled by steamers; their trunks and boxes came to shore by the same process. Making the transfer to the smaller boats would have been a difficult process, it seems to me, especially for families with babies or very young children.

Reporter: Now passing the heavy door of old Castle Clinton—that was its name until 1823—let us push straight through to the opposite side and out upon the wharf. Here is a busy time. A heavily-loaded emigrant ship has just anchored in the stream, and the barge Pilgrim, towed by a steamer, is now just fastened to the pier with all her company and their luggage. The ship is the Mary, of Havre, and her passengers are of the better class,—stout, clean looking Hollanders (Germans?), hopeful and hearty peasants from France—men who have a trade in their hands, skill in their brawny arms, and money in their pockets, and women who promise to be helpmates for industrious and intelligent men. As they leave the barge, they are examined with reference to their health, and to discover if any of them should be conveyed to the Hospital."

Arriving on land at last, did Johann and Magdalena instinctively draw back as they saw a group of officials waiting for them? Would they have known, as they were formed into a line and started toward a corridor that led into Castle Garden, that these officials only wanted to help them, not to confront them with some unexpected problem or harsh scrutiny? And they must have worried as all of the trunks and boxes of the passengers, including their own, disappeared from their sight to a place unknown.

The eyes of the younger single men in their group must have seen the posters meant to attract these new immigrants as they passed into Castle Garden. The posters offered a way to get what must have seemed a great deal of money to unmarried men with little cash in their pockets. All that was necessary to earn this money was a willingness to enlist in the Union Army - citizenship not required. Men from the Prussian Empire were especially sought after since they were thought to have undergone at least two years of military service in the service of the Kaiser.

Reporter: On Thursday several ... hopeful gentlemen dressed themselves in emigrants’ clothes and tried to gain admittance (to Castle Garden) under the pretense of having been landed in company with those just arrived. But the dodge did not work. Others pleaded earnestly to get in to see a father or a brother, a sister or other relative, who was among the passengers. But they were too well known to palm themselves off on that pretense...These runners have sucked the life-blood of emigrants for so long that they think they have a right to it.

If they encountered a disturbance like the one just described, Johann, Magdalena, and any of the people who did not speak English could not be blamed for thinking that honest immigrants like themselves were being kept from entering the building. Misgiving, fear, and curiosity would have shown on the faces of all the passengers who waited for their own chance to walk into Castle Garden.

Passenger: All being ready, the emigrants proceed in a body up the corridor into the interior of the building, their boxes and baggage being removed to the luggage warehouses, and here they range themselves in order on the seats. In front of them, and in the centre of the building, which is lit by a glass dome, stand a staff of some dozen gentlemen, all busily engaged in making arrangements for facilitating the movements and promoting the settlement of the newly-arrived emigrants. Each emigrant, man, woman and child, passes up in rotation to the Bureau, and gives to the registrar his or her name and destination, as a check upon the return of the Captain of the vessel, who gives the name, place of birth, age and occupation.

Johann and Magdalena, along with the other immigrants from Irsch, look around as they wait to be called forward to an important-looking official who is asking questions. They cast questioning glances at other arrivals who are taking the hard wood seats that circle around the building. One of the people already interviewed comes back to acquaintances who still wait in line. They hear him say, "Have not fear; they ask only what we have already been asked by the clerk of the ship captain. Ja, the questions answer easy."

Passenger: One of the leading officers connected with the Bureau of Information then mounts a rostrum, and addressing the assembled emigrants, tells them that such as are not otherwise provided for, or prepared to pay for their accommodation, can find shelter under the roof of that building; that advice and information of the best and most reliable kind can be had relative to tickets for railway and steamer to take them East, West, North or South; as to the best means of obtaining employment, for which a register is kept in the Intelligence Department of the Institution; also as to the best and most expeditious routes to take, with facilities for corresponding with friends, and of changing money at the Bureau of Exchange.

Do the Meiers and the other families from Irsch already know the route they will take to Wisconsin? Perhaps, since a few of their neighbors already live there and may have sent letters with advice about the best route. If not, they soon find an official who speaks German and directs them to information or to ticket sellers who are forbidden to make unfair charges.
Reporter: If any are ignorant of the routes West an officer points out the peculiarities of each, shows the nearest route to distant places, and informs them of the prices of tickets. Maps of the States and of the routes are hung about the room, and if the officer does his duty, no intelligent man need decide until he knows the general features of the land that lies between the promised land and Castle Garden. This information is what almost every emigrant needs.

Days after day at sea with almost no way to wash. Magdalena and the other women have tried to keep their families clean but it has been impossible. They wish for some of their homemade lye soap and a basin of water. The German families find each other, attracted by a language that they can understand. As they begin to share stories, a man who is dressed in a suit and who is very clean and well-groomed approaches them. To their delight, he speaks their language. Men and boys, he says, should go to the right, women to the left. He smiles. "Don't worry" he says, "You will find each other easily once you come out of the baths. Decide now on your meeting place." Baths? Have they really heard that word?

Reporter: "Next, the emigrant is shown to the baths. We join the crowd of males that flock in to the right. Here we find a large room, in the centre of which hang several coarse roller towels, and along the side is a deep trough of running Croton. This is the wash-room. Soap abounds—we hope no motives of niggardly economy will ever make it lose plenty. Behind a screen that reaches across the room is the basin for bathing. A dozen or two can be accommodated in it at the same time. Indeed, every facility is granted the new comer, whatever may be his condition on entering it, to leave Castle Garden personally clean. The female bath and wash-room were the counterpart of the male, but as it was in use at the time, we consented to take the statement of our conductor and forgo a personal investigation."

The word goes around. Trunks and boxes from the Ship Rattler are now unloaded. They wait on the wharf for someone to claim them. Magdalena waits with the younger children. Johann takes 11-year-old Mathias with him to look for the family's precious belongings.
Reporter: Back now to the Weighmaster on the wharf each head of a family must go, point out his luggage, and receive a certificate of its aggregate weight. Now, if the emigrant desires to stop in the City, he may leave his luggage, to be called for when wanted...But few by this arrival elect to stop here—for they are wise enough to push on where they will be welcomed—to the West. All such are directed to the Clerk in an office at the front part of the building, where they exhibit their tickets, if they purchased them in the old country, or purchase new ones if unsupplied...Most prefer to go on at once. And such need not wait long. The barge is soon reloaded with the baggage, and the steamer again fastening and they are borne in the several depots they are to go by without cost, and deposited just in time to take the next train onward.
After the last few days on the ship, when the weather was stormy and the food supply was nearly gone, everyone in steerage had longed for fresh food; hearty bread, homemade cheese, milk taken from cow to table. Inside Castle Garden, their eyes widened as they saw what had been so longed for, now within their reach
Passenger: In a far corner of each compartment is a kind of refectory, where for fifteen or twenty cents you can obtain a half a pint of coffee, a roll, cheese or butter; but many of the emigrants appeared to prefer purchasing their own tea and coffee, and preparing it in tin utensils in the stoves. There are two water taps and an iron ladle at each end of the division, from which draughts of the Croton are in constant request, nothing in the shape of wine, lager beer or spirits being all owed to be sold upon the premises.
Johann and the other men of Irsch bought food and coffee, grateful for its freshness and surprised at the white flour rolls which required no chewing. Although the Meiers and their fellow villagers were all exceedingly hungry, they paused to pray over this first meal, thanking God for bringing them safely once more to land. Then they ate; and, I think, the men winked and laughed together and agreed that life could only be better if they had a mug of Saar wine to wash it down.
Reporter: A tall fountain feeds a noble basin of water near the spot where the old stage was...The children were rollicking about it--sailing their paper boats, and full of unrestrained glee. The women eat in groups, talking in some of those crooked old country languages that make us wonder how any talking can be done there until the people come of age,—some knitting, some cutting and eating slices of rye German bread and cheese, some patching and fixing up the wardrobes of their family...The whole castle is theirs to ramble in, and none hinder any, wherever they choose to stop in it. The best seats are free, and numbers that at Jenny Lind’s concerts sold at fabulous prices, were open to the poorest.
And what of the children? I picture the three Meier children, Mathias, Anna, and little Johann, growing accustomed to these new surroundings. No longer awed by the immensity of Castle Garden and now unafraid of separation from their parents, they explored. They listened to the foreign words that flowed from each small group of people and imitated the sounds. They splashed each other with water from the big fountain until they were shooed away by sour-faced woman who was trying to sooth her screaming baby. They made faces at the Dutch children; then made friends with them. On this day, they were shabby and pale but very happy.
Passenger: It was nearly evening before all the business connected with the emigrant department was over and the emigrants began to settle down in their new locality, and the building being lit up with gas gave a more cheerful aspect to the interior, and enabled us to survey the somewhat novel scene before us. You could at first imagine, were you not painfully concious to the contrary, that all those human beings seated on the benches had assembled to witness some theatrical entertainment. On looking right and left, an arrangement will be observed to have been effected, once the emigrants marched in miscellaneously---the Germans and Dutch, who form by far the most numerouse body, being parceled off into the eastern portion of the building, which is seperated from the other portion, which contains indiscriminately English, Irish, Scotch and French. Two very civil and intelligent watchmen reconnoitre during the night to keep order...
Reporter: It (Castle Garden) is utterly given up to young and old, lads and lasses, old men and crusty maids to wander at will throughout it, talking about good old times and plotting for future revenue on Western prairies, or arranging for the service of the clergyman, and the quiet cottage and the babies that are to be born.
Amen!

Sources:
"Castle Garden: One Lady's Experience," New York Times, Dec. 23, 1868 (see) http://members.tripod.com/~Silvie/CastleGarden.html
"Castle Garden: New Emigrants are Treated on Landing," New York Daily Times, August 4, 1855, Page 1 (see) http://www.theshipslist.com/pictures/castlegarden1855.htm

Castle Garden - the Little Known Immigration Depot

2008-06-05T23:46:00.000-05:00

Castle Garden

Ellis Island

Did your Rhineland ancestors pass through Ellis Island, leaving their homes behind them? Probably not, since the majority of Germans landed in New York during the middle years of the 19th century, a time when there was no "Isle of Tears."

Somehow Ellis Island has usurped all the fame of the immigration story. As many beginning genealogists search for their German roots, they are frustrated to learn that there are no immigration records for their ancestors available in the Ellis Island Immigration Center's database. "Why?" they ask. They have grown up believing every immigrant ship brought its load of passengers into the forbidding fortress where only the lucky ones received permission to continue their journey into the "new country." Ellis Island is as well known as President Abraham Lincoln, but our 19th Century ancestors' immigration center was almost always Castle Garden. And Castle Garden is about as familiar as President Millard Fillmore (our 13th US President).

The scenes I am about to describe are from a very good television series called "Germans in America." You may already have seen it or will find in soon on the schedule of your public television station. The four segments, focusing on the German immigrant experience, were produced in Germany for German television audiences and now has been translated into English. But I found it misleading at one point. See what you think.

Scene 1: Immigrants are shown waiting in long lines at Ellis Island, then being examined and told their fate. Would one family member be rejected and told to return to the home country. Should those family members who had passed the physical test return with their family member or stay in America? Small wonder Ellis Island was often called the "Isle of Tears." Fade to...

Scene 2: The year is 1849. A young man, Karl Steinweg, writes his family in Germany to come and join him. He is already in New York, having fled to the United States after taking part in the revolution of 1848. Fade to...

Scene 3: In the 1860's, another family arrives. The Julius Gumpertz family - father, mother and four children - hope to change their lives for the better in the new world.

The way these scenes are sequenced leaves viewers with the impression that the Steinweg family and the six members of the Gumpertz family sailed into New York harbor, saw the Statue of Liberty, were marched through Ellis Island, and finally declared fit to enter New York City and go on with their lives. It's good drama but nothing like the arrival of either of the two families, because Ellis Island immigration station did not open until 1892 nor was the Statue of Liberty fully assembled until July of 1886.

Before 1855, German immigrants arriving at the Port of New York were hardly noticed in any official kind of way. Once their ship was declared free of disease and the automatic quarantine was lifted, ship passengers and their luggage were loaded on to smaller boats and taken to one of five piers in the city. Here they found themselves on their own. Often the people who spoke the German language were con men who attempted to lure the newcomers to run-down boarding houses or to "help" them purchase tickets for passage to their end destination. These costs were usually two or three times higher than fair prices. Some of the immigrants gave their money to a "helpful countryman" and never saw him or their money again. The 1849 immigrant Steinwegs were completely on their own when they left their ship.

The 1860 Gumpertz family, as well as many of my German ancestors, had a better start. They went to Castle Garden, a receiving station for immigrants. Its purpose was not to limit immigration but to safeguard the new immigrants as well as prevent sickness from being spread to the residents of New York City. There was less drama here than at Ellis Island. Castle Garden, opened on August 3, 1855, was a place of temporary refuge for our immigrant ancestors, concentrating on services to help these new arrivals in a country they hoped to call their new home.

Castle Garden was located at the tip of lower Manhattan in Battery Park, a 23 acre waterfront park at the tip of Manhattan. It was constructed between the years 1807 and 1811 as part of a chain of harbor forts that could defend New York City against a naval attack. It was first known as the West Battery, but was renamed Castle Clinton in 1815 after George Clinton, the first governor of the state of New York. In 1823, the U.S. Army withdrew from the fortress, leaving it to New York City authorities, who in turn permitted private investors to take it over. These investors reopened it several months later as a center for social events and gave it a new name: Castle Garden. Jenny Lind, the famous Swedish soprano, once performed there for an audience of 4,000. But in 1855, the state of New York's Board of Emigration Commissioners decided to use the building for immigration purposes.

There were about 100 people who worked at the Castle Garden Landing Depot. There were inspectors who boarded the incoming ships to see how many passengers were aboard the vessel, and how clean it was. When the ship docked in New York City harbors, other agents transported the immigrants by barge or tugboat to the castle for medical exams. The sick were sent to Ward's Island for medical attention and the rest were brought into the rotunda of Castle Garden. After their names, nationalities, old residences, and destinations were recorded, the immigrants were sent to the baggage delivery. If the immigrant was not staying in the city, he could make arrangements here to forward their trunks or boxes to the final destination.

Back inside Castle Garden, there was a department with personnel who helped write letters in various languages for those immigrants who were illiterate; German, French, Italian, Spanish, Dutch, Czech, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Polish, Portuguese, Swiss-German, Russian, and Latin interpreters were available. Thus any immigrant could mail a first letter back to the homeland.

The new arrivals also found a place here where they could safely change their foreign money into American currency, as well as a strictly regulated list of the 76 immigrant boardinghouse keepers allowed representation at the Castle. A restaurant, bread stands, washrooms, even a Western Union Telegraph Company branch were also available on the premises.

Barry Moreno, who works in the reference library at the Statue of Liberty National Monument and Ellis Island Immigration Museum in New York City, says, "Today, Castle Garden swarms with tourists who come to buy ferry tickets for an excursion to the Statue of Liberty or Ellis Island. Only a few observe the stone walls that surround them; almost none go inside the modest exhibit gallery at the entrance to the castle. But those who pause within that quiet space will learn a startling fact: they are standing in a citadel that in bygone years was the great threshold to America for millions of migrants, a place where such travelers paused before journeying onward to new homes and livelihoods. Castle Garden is the true golden door to which poetess Emma Lazarus refered in her 1883 sonnet, 'Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me...''

I'm very glad my Rhineland Ancestors found a friendly, helpful country when they reached our shores.

Sources:
Moreno, Barry, "Castle Garden: The Forgotten Gateway," Ancestry Magazine
"Germans in America," Axel Engstfeld Filmproduktion, in collaboration with WDR/Cologne and ARTE, and with the support of North Rhine-Westphalia’s Film Funding Board (Filmstiftung NRW) and the Goethe-Institute