Introducing a Companion Blog

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

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

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

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

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

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 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

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

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?

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."


Source; Martha Heit, "Kleidung im Trierer Land des frühen 19. Jahrhunderts," 1997

From Bishop's Crosier to Napoleonic Flag to Prussian Eagle

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

                                                                                                                                                                                                       

                                                            




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