Genealogy of the Bogenschneider Family History and Family Tree
Transcription
Genealogy of the Bogenschneider Family History and Family Tree
Genealogy of the Bogenschneider Family History and Family Tree Prepared by Hans Bogenschneider City Secretary of Berlin Summer 1913 Translated from German to English by Duane Bogenschneider Summer 2013 1 Dedicated to the memory of my dear mother and my dear father, to whom I owe the basis of this family genealogy. But I cannot, as was my hope, place this completed work in their hands. 2 Sources For the Family Name: J. und W. Grimm, Deutsches Wörterbuch, Leipzig 1854 A. Heintze, Die deutschen Familiennamen, Halle 1903. A. F. Pott, Die Personennamen, Leipzig 1853 -- Anmerkur g Seite 284: Beneken A. Bähnisch, Die Deutschen Personennamen, Leipzig 1910. Personal Instructions by: Professor Dr. Pallmann, Oberlehrer zu Berlin, 1886; A. Bähnisch, Gymnasialdirektor zu Kreuzburg in Schlesien, 1910; Professor Dr. Cascorbi, Hannoverisch - Münen, 1911. For the Family Tree: Professor Dr. Lorenz: Lehrbuch der gesamten wissenschaftlichen Genealogie, Berlin 1898. Church Books and Civil Registers For the Family History: : Notices in the church books of the evangelical parish of Nadrensee-Krackow, Woltersdorf und Völschendorf in Kreis Randow. Also materials from the Königlichen Konsistoriums of the Province of Pomerania. Discussions of everyday life and family with my great-grandmother Charlotte Bogenschneider born Lenz, my grandparents and parents. 3 Foreword On winter evenings and on walks, I often looked forward to conversations with my father. He loved to tell of the "good old days," of his parents and grandparents and of his youth, which seemed particularly happy in the transfiguring light of memory. It occurred to me to write down some of the stories and summarize them for our family in a modest chronicle. To supplement the stories about our older ancestors, an examination was done of their home church records. This expanded the information through a stimulating search. I added information about our surname, and so the present family genealogy developed. It takes us back to days long since faded away, showing us pictures of happy events, as well as those that speak of suffering and travail. By nature, there is no claim to be exhaustive, but rather it covers only direct family history, and such events that were deemed to have more interest. May this work be suitable to preserve the memory of our ancestors. May we the carriers of the common family name see ourselves belonging to people who in simple and ordinary conditions honestly struggled in their lives. Berlin, Kaiser-Friedrich-Platz Nr. 2, in the Summer of 1913. Hans Bogenschneider 4 English Translation It is indeed an honor to offer a translation of Stammbuch der Familie Bogenschneider In Chronik u. Stammtafel in English in this the centennial year of its original publication. Hans Bogenschneider probably never envisioned that one hundred years after offering his wonderful family history that another Bogenschneider would present his work in another language. An electronic copy of this work was obtained from the German National Library in Leipzig. We thank the Interlibrary Loan Department at the University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee and the Interlibrary Loan Department at the Deutsche Nationalbibliothek at Leipzig for their assistance in obtaining this work. In translating the text, every attempt was made to stay true to the original meaning of the text despite the translator's imperfect knowledge of German. In translating the work, a decision was made to use an idiomatic style rather than a pure literal translation. This was done to produce a less stilted and more flowing text for the modern reader. The translator has added a "Glossary" to help explain the immediate context of some of the events, places and people to assist the reader in more fully understanding the Weltanschauung or understanding of the world at that time and a "Name Index" to provide access to the individuals mentioned in the book. It is with deepest gratitude and appreciation that this translation is dedicated in honor of the original author, Hans Bogenschneider. It is through his efforts that we today have better insights into the history of the Bogenschneider family. As was his goal, he indeed has provided us with a greater memory of our family, and a greater understanding of what those who walked before us experienced in their lives. Duane Bogenschneider Summer 2013 5 Our Name You are looking for people to name And believe by the name you will know them, Anyone who sees deeper, remains free It is what is Anonymous. (Goethe: Gereimte Sprüche) Our oldest ancestors called themselves Babenschneider, Bavenschneider and Bawenschneider, and only occasionally Bogenschneider. These four spellings of the name were used until 1797, and only then Bogenschneider became the fixed spelling. The origin and the meaning of our name, which at first glance appears clear, may not be that clear. One of my teachers, the German scholar and historian Professor Pallmann, related the name to a maker of weapons. He thought Bogenschneider was a bow maker (bow and arrows). Parzival 188, 5: "bow and arrow, he cuts with his own hand." The name should then be synonymous with today's surnames Bogner and Boegner. These are derived from the Middle High German bogenaere and are related to the manufacture of weapons by a proficient craftsmen. Hans Sachs V 361 b: "What does your shooting cost you in a year? The best shot has a bowmaker." The linking of the words bow and maker does not occur often in literature. Were that the case in the Middle Ages, the name would appear quite often. But the fact is the name is rarely used and is not represented in many families. In all likelihood, Pallman's interpretation, based on another time, is not correct. Bahnisch, a newer name historian, is inclined to believe that our name is related to a place. In his view the inhabitant of a Bogenschneid named Bogenschneider, was possibly a single farmstead or a settlement with several pieces of land. Like all place names with the suffix "schneid", the area is characterized by an area of land with boundaries. For example, Schneid or Schneed, even today in rural usage, refers to a defined area of land. Beneken also defines Schneid (cited in Pott: personal names): "as pieces of land defined by boundary markers, such as hills, stones, or streams." The Bogen describes our border as "bending." Perhaps it was a road or a brook, or the winding (bends) in land by the sea. Bähnisch holds it as insignificant that locations with specific names no longer exist. He sees the name as a distortion of a field name, which was particularly coined in older times by landsmen and used among each other, without the name being officially noted or specified in geographical books. Such field names or groups of dwellings, namely in areas where the farmsteads lay separately and unnoted, and where nearly each had a peculiar situation and condition, could from it receive a name. 6 The proposed explanation is acceptable, but it does not say anything about the names in conjunction with Baben and Bawen (Baven). Also, it attaches unnecessarily to the existence of a settlement or a property. I believe that the name derives from a place, the words relating to Bawen and boundaries. Schneid meant, as we saw, a piece of land. The resident of a Schneid was called a Schneider. (Seven: Pott.) When neighbors tried to identify it more specifically, then this was done via reference to the place or the area, where an individual resided. In Low German or Plattdeutsch, "baben" refers to above. Neighbors referred to them as “baben." Later one may have called it Schneider of Baben or briefly babenschneider. Most likely the name existed for a long time in this form before it was changed to Bogenschneider. How did this happen? Here it must be noted that it involved a rural family, which used the Low German dialect. In indistinct articulation the name was also spoken as Bavenschneider or Bawenschneider. Further investigation shows that Bawen (spoken as Boawen) is the Low German form of the standard German word “Bogen." If a member of the family wanted to change the name to standard German, the name was changed from Bawenschneider to Bogenschneider. With this change the original meaning of the name was lost and replaced with a new meaning. (This type of change happened with a great many German surnames.) As the family turned to the standard German language, it used the new form of the name Bogenschneider, and it became the only form of usage. The spelling of the name changed easily in church record entries; “in the old times, since so few could write, the posting of the names was not certain; one scribe would write it one way and another scribe in a different way.” (Bähnisch, chapter VII). Considering everything, our name can't be interpreted with full certainty. This would only be possible if it could be pursued through the various changes in the name back to its beginning. This is not possible because documentation is only available from the mid 18th century, and the name was created long before this. With high probability, however, we may assume that the first user of the name Babenschneider was called so by his neighbors, because he was “baben of the schneider,” and lived up on the hilly part of a section of land. 7 Introduction The ancestors from which our family descended were located in Pomerania, west of the Oder River in the silver ribbon area of the Randow River that separates Uckermark and the blessed Mecklenburg. They immigrated to this area in the middle of the eighteenth century, and their original home was probably east of the Oder River in the area of the Madüsee located between Stargard and Pyritz down to the Neumark. Even today, families with the names Bogenschneider and Babenschneider live there, and their heritage dates back to the peasant earthiness of the past centuries. They are all Protestants. Progenitor of the family in Kreis Randow is David Benjamin Babenschneider, whom we identify as our oldest known ancestor. He first appears in the year 1750 in the village of Krackow near Penkun as an employee of Mr. von Ploetz on the manor Krackow. According to the church records in Krackow, his birth year is calculated as 1724, but otherwise there is no information about his birth and origin. This justifies the assumption that David Benjamin immigrated to Krackow. Both the Captain von Ploetz and his wife were from eastern Pomeranian noble families. The latter is identified as "the highborn wife Amalia Eliesabetha of Küssow, the daughter of Captain Georg Ehrenreich of Küssow, owner of the manors at Klücken and Kloxin." As these manors were located in Kreis Pyritz, David Benjamin probably had his home there and already held a position in the service of the noble house of Ploetz. Having gained the confidence of the family Ploetz, they summoned him to Krackow, where in 1750 he established his home at the age of twenty-six and still unmarried. 8 The First Known Generation The past emerges from the dark grave and gives us some long lost memories. David Benjamin Babenschneider, in spite of his rural background and the time in which he lived, was an educated man. In 1751, he assumed the office of teacher and sexton in Krackow. At that time, probably coinciding with the start of his new occupation, he married Christina Elisabeth Grücher, who died within one year, in July 1752, while giving birth to twins. To care for the infants, David Benjamin entered in the same year into a second marriage. He chose 19-year-old Maria Elisabeth Panko'en, who became our ancestral mother. As a neighbor in Krackow and as a friend, she already had held the abandoned twins at their baptism. Eight children resulted from the new union of our ancestor: four boys and four girls. One of the sons, Christian Martin, died in infancy. The unmarried daughter Oehlgard died from melancholy when she was 30 years old. Following the example of the father, two sons also turned to the education field. The oldest, Carl Gottfried, went to Woltersdorf, near the Uckermark border. The youngest, like his father named David Benjamin, succeeded him in school management and took over as sexton in Krackow. He probably supported his father in his lifetime in office as a second teacher. David Benjamin (I) not only enjoyed the reputation as a respected patron, but also as a church superior. He appears to have been respected by clergymen because they served as sponsors for his children, including such clergymen as J. H. Projah, Pastor Nadrensis (of Nadrensee), Pastor Schultze from Glasow and theology candidate Gottfried Matthäus Blindow. The old master sexton David Benjamin Babenschneider died on 5 June 1797, in the evening at 6:00 p.m., at the age of seventy-three years and in the 46th year of his duties, from an apoplectic stroke. Soon after, his wife Maria Elisabeth relocated to Woltersdorf, where she lived the rest of her life in the care of the oldest son, Carl Gottfried. On 5 April 1800, she died at the age of 68 years, from the enfeeblement of old age. David Benjamin the younger was married in his first marriage to Charlotte Dreblow, the daughter of an owner of a mill in Stolzenburg. She died at the age of 27, leaving three children. Afterwards, he married the maiden Dorothea Maria Gloede, who likewise gave him three children. She was the daughter of the property gardener Philipp Johann Gloede, who was a friend of the family Babenschneider and had served as a godfather (sponsor). David Benjamin (II), also served for a long time, and trained his son Carl Georg Heinrich, who then assisted him. David Benjamin was an honored sexton and head master, and he died at the age of 65 on 6 September 1831 after a long illness. One of his children, Caroline Wilhelmine, became the wife of the teacher Rinck in Wollin. 9 One of the sons, Christian Ludwig, became a game keeper. In documentation he is mentioned as a “hunter on the Gümnitz” and as a godfather of a child of his older brother Carl Gottfried in Woltersdorf. He was married for many years to Dorothea Henriette Golzen from Kremmen, and he was the father of six children. What happened to him and his family after leaving the forest warden's office in Günnitz is not known. 10 The Second Generation The key ancestor of this generation is Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider, the sexton from Woltersdorf, who was born on 8 August 1760 in Krackow, the son of the older David Benjamin. His first wife was our family's direct ancestor, Louisa Hintze (Hinze), the daughter of a inspector of the manor Brunn, near the village with the same name. Also, her brother Christoph was on that manor serving as the manager of affairs. Louisa died, having had two daughters and the son Carl Gottlob -- the next male of our family. After her death, Carl Gottfried married Elisabeth Groth (Grothen), who was born in the area of Brunn. The marriage produced two sons and one daughter. Unfortunately, Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider departed early from his family and died on 20 February 1802, in the evening at 11 o'clock, from pneumonia. He was forty-one years old. He had worked thirteen years in his profession before his death. The church records indicate that "he was an honest and faithful man." The 35-year-old widow married again in the same year with the successor to her first husband's office, the school teacher and sexton Voigt in Woltersdorf. But he was not a replacement in the paternal welfare of the widow's children. They had to leave the house of the stepfather at a very young age in order to take up simple positions and struggle for survival. Your uncle Carl Georg Heinrich, as successor to his father David Benjamin (II), remained in Krackow. He died already at the young age of thirty-eight of an apoplectic stroke. His marriage to Caroline Friederika produced a daughter and three sons, but none of them took over the father's position in Krackow. However, there is evidence that one of them went into the teaching profession, because in 1872, the father of the author of this chronicle met a Bogenschneider who was a teacher in Berlin, and whose parents had lived about that time in Krackow. This line of teachers in the Bogenschneider family also continues today in East Prussia, where a teacher named Bogenschneider documents his descent from the village of Krackow in Kreis Randow. 11 The Third Generation Our distant ancestor, Carl Gottlob Bogenschneider, the son of Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider and Louisa Hintze, was born around 1782 in Woltersdorf. The exact year of birth cannot be determined, as the existing church records of this place go back only to 1790. Carl Gottlob was twenty years old when his father died. The family tradition of the school teacher ends with him. Apparently due to the limited purse of the father and the difficult conditions caused by the freedom wars, it appears it was more advisable to learn a profitable handicraft. As a result, Carl Gottlob turned to the occupation of carpenter. In accordance with the custom of the time, it was required that the young associate go on distant migrations with knapsack and stick, including a long trip to Vienna. He also showed an artistic inclination. He played a flute, which accompanied him on his journeys. The flute is retained to this very day in our family. It demonstrates his love for music. He returned to the Pomeranian homeland, and lived in Neuhaus by Falkenwalde, where he resided in the house of his future invalid father-in-law, Sergeant John Friedrich Lenz. Johann Friedrich Lenz, a man our family loved to discuss, was an honorable and strong man with an imposing body stature. Originally a carpenter, he had served three rulers (the old Fritz and both of the successors Friedrich Wilhelm) as a soldier exhibiting creative thinking, and he acquired a gold medal, a rare war honor in the army. Under the great king, he had participated in the Bavarian Succession War. From 1792 to 1795, he had participated in the Rhine campaign against the French. After leaving the army, he received a military pension. He also received land from the King in Neuhaus, where he cultivated himself and died after years of leisure on 7 February 1820. He was well-known in the Stettiner garrison as he would dress in military stockings and shoes when he came to collect his pension and would march in a military parade manner and would greet the officers. Not only did his daughter bring Johann Friedrich Lenz into a relationship with the Bogenschneider family, but he was himself in a second marriage with Maria Elisabeth Hintze, a niece of Louisa Hinze, the wife of Sexton Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider in Woltersdorf. Carl Gottlob Bogenschneider became acquainted with maiden Johanna Charlotta Lenz at his work at the Brunn manor. She was steadfast and faithful to her father, and she handled the business records of the manor. At that time the flames of war enveloped the country. The French had invaded and the area was occupied by hostile troops, and troops were quartered at the manor Brunn. A French soldier, went into the kitchen, and wanted to fondle and kiss the maiden Charlotta by force. However, as a child of a soldier, she grabbed a stoker from the fire and struck the aggressor in the face. Charlotta had to hide for five days fearing revenge until the soldiers finally left. The rage of the people fermented against the evil torturers, and some secretly sought revenge through bloody deeds against them. Charlotta saw workers from the neighboring Seven Mills kill two chauffeurs and rob them of their horses. The winter of 1812/13 brought heavy snow and severe cold weather. Charlotta Lenz narrated how the older people wore mittens and stocking caps to bed. In addition, there had been a harvest failure. The farmers were not able to save oat seeds for sowing the next spring because it was eaten by the French war horses, along with the last stems of hay and last bundles of 12 straw. Also, in Brunn the lack of fodder made it nearly impossible to bring the cattle through the winter. Even the thatched roofs of the houses and barns were used to feed the sheep. The animals were fed the straw from the roofs on the ground to satisfy their hunger. Today, whenever there is need, it awakens the remembrance of the French and a reminder of those times, the great need and how the compulsion of a demonic oppressor raged in the home of our ancestors. The Brunn manor was owned by the old-established Ramin family, which to the present day is in the possession of the manor. At the place where the manor house is now located, was a small brewing house, in which Charlotte Lenz operated her business producing a strong barley drink. The manor house was at that time on the west side of the road across from the manor land. Nearby stood an enormous tree grove with stairs and a gallery. Here the owners probably enjoyed some beautiful days, and where occasionally there was music for dancing for the villagers. Carl Gottlob Bogenschneider and Charlotta Lenz were married on 30 November 1809 at the church in Brunn, and they established a business place and workshop next to the house of the brew master's father in Neuhaus. There the next son and heir of our family saw the light of the world on 8 October 1812: Carl August Ferdinand, my grandfather. Around 1814, Carl Gottlob moved to Völschendorf and then to the neighboring Brunn. Finally, Calvary Officer Ludwig von Ramin let him build his own house on the site of a former mutton stable, the property previously being a sheep farm, and granted him land and cattle. The manor lord, probably judged the young Bogenschneider positively, and let the accommodation be especially well appointed. Today the forester's lodge is located in the Brunn manor. Carl Gottlob and Charlotta had fourteen years of a happy marriage, which produced six children, three sons and three daughters. They had a quiet and undemanding life, undemanding like the time described in the song: 13 Yes, I am happy, that it goes as it wills! Living under my roof I am glad and still. Through a door that has everything one's heart could desire; but I am satisfied that this is the value of gold. But like his father, Carl Gottlob also suffered an early death. He died on 6 April 1824 from a "heat disease," a type of pneumonia which he contracted while working outdoors. Carl Gottlob experienced a nameless eventful time including the Napoleonic conquest, the fall of Prussia, and the great war of liberation, from which the fatherland grew to a new greatness. Charlotta Bogenschneider remained in distress with their six children, because the oldest daughter, Caroline, was only thirteen years, and the youngest son, Wilhelm, only thirteen months old. Destitute as she was, Charlotte placed some of the children with relatives. The others she supported with a very modest existence from her husband's joinery which was continued by a helper. In April 1825, she entered into a second marriage with Earl Filter, who took over the workshop of Carl Gottlob Bogenschneider and took over the former mutton stable as his own. It was soon shown, that Filter was an easily excitable man, who flared up also from the slightest cause in anger and which turned to mistreatment of his wife and his stepchildren. The oldest son, Carl Bogenschneider, had the most difficult time because he learned the carpentry business from the stepfather. After three years, Filter succumbed to a throat disease. In 1826, Johanna (Hanna) Filter, the only child in their marriage was born to Filter and Charlotta Bogenschneider. Johanna later became the wife of the ship-owner Wilhelm Lange in Güstow near Stettin. 14 The Fourth Generation After the holy war, which had finally freed the country from French servitude, began the pleasant culture of the Biedermeier, that time, with which we today associate the terms oldfashioned and philosophical idealism. Internal policy took actions hostile to the people and that direction increased the revolutionary movement, and tears and blood resulted, and led to the “great year” 1848. My grandfather Carl August Ferdinand Bogenschneider lived in this time of fermentation and the fight for people's rights. As the oldest son of the early deceased Carl Gottlob, he remained at the side of his widowed mother at Hammelstall, and he came, as we saw, under the strict training of his stepfather Filter. After whose death, he at sixteen-years old, took over the carpentry business and he operated it successfully with an assistant. He became a master in the trade, and soon he acquired enough income so that he could maintain his mother and his brothers and sisters by himself. With nearly paternal earnestness, he provided primarily for his brothers Wilhelm and August. He took the latter for training into his own workshop. Also, the sisters progressed in their lives. The next in age, Caroline, married Johann Filter, a brother of her deceased stepfather, in Brunn. They celebrated their golden wedding anniversary after fifty happy years. Henriette was next in line. Through the family's connection with the master carpenter Johann Lange in Güstow, who was married to Johanna Filter, her stepsister, Henriette married Wilhelm Lange. Then there was another sister, Friederike, whose life partner was the carpenter Schulz in Wamlitz. Coincidently, Friederike and Henriette died on the same day, 3 September 1853, nearly at the same time, as victims of cholera, which caused devastation across the land. My grandfather, who as part of his trade manufactured coffins, had made two coffins in advance because of the many deaths. He now used these coffins to bury the two sisters. Often fate and superstition live together: for from that day the master manufactured no more coffins in advance. Already at the age of eighteen years my grandfather got larger orders; thus he implemented in 1830 his first construction work, a gathering house on the Pasenwalker Chaussee, which he later showed to Carl, his son and my father. August, his fraternal apprentice, worked side-byside with his brother for many years in a thriving business, but then August began building mills, so he was busy with his own work across the country. At the age of 27, Carl married Friederike Boy, the oldest daughter of businessman Johann Carl Boy, residents of Prilipp bei Stöwen (Stöven). Her and our families will be examined in more detail. 15 The Boy Family The businessman Johann Carl Boy and his brother Johann Jacob came from a family of landowners from Mecklenburg-Strelitz. Their father Johann Jacob the elder had created through purchase and delivery of army horses a considerable fortune, and they established themselves in Prilipp in Kreis Randow, Pomerania. In the year 1806, the hereditary tenant interest was transferred to him by Carl Friedrich Helm, who was a husband of Johanna Carolina Friederica Boy. In 1812, Johann Jacob the younger bought the manor Pribbernow in Pomerania as the successor to Lord Essen. In 1848, during the Polish rebellion, he exchanged it for the property in Topolla in the Grand Duchy of Posen. But soon struggles against his management forced him to give up this possession and to be content instead with the smaller property Grünhof near Prussian Friedland in West Prussia. Johann Jacob was a man of considerable thriftiness, a characteristic, which is common until today with the carriers of the Boy family blood. Johann Carl Boy was his father's top inspector for the tenants of Prilipp. He purchased a good and beautiful country estate as his property. However, he was not only a farmer, but he was a gifted doctor for human and animal health through his sympathetic rehabilitation. The breaking of sticks and moon changes played a successful role. Unfortunately, he had a nervous and passionate nature that affected his mind. Already as an inspector, Johann Carl had married Maria Sophia Eisenhaber of the village Luisenhof near Böck. It is mentioned that the father of the latter, was Joachim Eisenhaber, a man of extraordinary strength. He possessed the force of three normal men and was capable of turning a sharp-edged roofing rafter nail with the bare hands into a kind of corkscrew. My father saw him as a silver-haired man at the wedding of his granddaughter Mina Boeder, as he stood in a wagon and moved in small circles to the sounds of music and then drove out to the gate at a gallop A sister of Mary Sophia Eisenhaber, Maria Auguste, was in her first marriage to the owner Boeder, the father of the bride, and later with the manor inspector of Stangenhorst, Carl Gottlob Lenz, a brother of our ancestress Charlotta, who is named under "the third generation" as a wife of the Carl Gottlob Bogenschneider. The estate Stangenhorst was in the shadow of ancient trees, populated by many birds. As a guest, and darling of the great aunt Boeder-Lenz, Carl Bogenschneider, the father of the chronicler, played here as a happy young boy. Friederike Boy, the wife Carl Bogenschneider, had six brothers and sisters. Johanna was the oldest and then Emilie followed; the latter gave her hand to a son of the manor lord Maegow. The Maegow father at that time sold his property in Boeck and settled with his family in Pasewalk. It was very difficult to transport the money from the sale proceeds because of the excessive weight of the dollar pieces, and four strong horses could barely pull the wagon on which the heavy money chest rested. The sister Auguste followed her uncle Ferdinand Boy to the altar. As heir, Johann Jacob (II) came into the possession of both the land and possessions of the manor Grünhof near the Prussian Friedland in West Prussia. They rest in an underground family grave, in a vault which Ferdinand Boy had placed on the land in the proximity of the Sukausees. Mysteriously the old 16 poplars on the property whisper and murmur near the graves the slumber song for the extinct family. Mathilde, the next sister, married the master blacksmith Bailleul in Gramzow, Uckermark and the youngest, Albertine, became the wife of the merchant Lewerenz in Stettin. Alexander was the last remaining brother of the siblings. His fate led him to Flatow in West Prussia where he married the second oldest daughter of the farmer Dumke. He produced a generation of five sons and he became the primary ancestor of the family Boy to this very day in Posen and in West Prussia. Friederike Boy or -- or as she was usually called -- Fritze, was a pretty and talented person, but her very soft heart and the excessive nature of her father overcame her, and she did not walk under a lucky star. She spent her childhood with relatives named Jobst, the owners of the manor Güstow. Here she received a careful education, and she also developed a book of drawings, which today are still in the possession of the family. It was also related how she had so powerful and clear a voice that it would make the glasses on the table rattle. Friederike's life and marriage would be short. She died on 6 February 1840, twenty-six years old, in the middle of young motherhood, with a week-long bed fever. The child, whose life had been paid for with her death, was baptized at her coffin by the minister Brunnemann of Stöwen. His godfathers were the grandfather Johann Carl Boy, August Bogenschneider (the brother of the child's father), a friend Rehmenklau who was a game keeper, minister Brunnemann, and the manufacturer Hirsch, owner of a chemical factory in Stettin and a relative of the family Boy. The newborn child, Carl Friedrich Ferdinand Bogenschneider, became my father. On the fourth day they buried the young woman on the cemetery at Brunn, but even the road to rest was difficult, because such a heavy snow blew on the road to the village that it was difficult for the hearse with four horses to overcome. Concern about the motherless Carl urged my grandfather to marry again. His chose the next younger sister of his first wife, Johanna Boy, who now with her husband and the mother-inlaw Charlotte in Hammelstall took over on the household. This was followed by a series of happy years. Friendly conviviality has been well maintained, and in particular a friendly relationship with the forest rangers maintaining the surrounding hunting grounds. My grandfather was a very good shooter, and usually took first prize at shooting contests and at shooting club festivals. People were very interested in him at shooting festivals. He went outside in the early hours of dawn to stalk as the winter snow fell on the meadow. Then later there were the rattling hunts, in which even small Carl was allowed to participate. The game keepers arrived in the evening as guests. They sang and played, and also danced at the festive occasion. The owner of the house played the flute and his brother August the guitar; a forester mastered the violin, and the exuberant trio did not fail to entertain. Often they performed in a round old songs like these: "We're going to Jerusalem" "I'll take my glass in the hand, to the comrades" and, "We all love song and wine, yes all." 17 Even Charlotta, the mother of the house, occasionally let herself do a minuet as a bird doing a delicate dance in her beloved meadow. It was quite the same at the holidays. Thus the new year was brought in with a New Year celebration, with loud gunshots at the midnight hour. Spicy grog and “Pelze,” the plate-sized pancakes that were popular in Pomerania, sustained the merry ones to the morning. On Easter before sunrise the beautiful and healthy Easter water was retrieved from the river. But it only was effective, if it was drawn in complete silence, a condition which was impossible because of the interference of noisy troublemakers. Pentecost, the lovely celebration, found the house decorated with calamus and fragrant mayflowers. And on Christmas Eve the Christmas tree was adorned in the room with much fuss. Secretly, the Christmas giver (Christmas man) placed small practical gifts on the table in a pile. Also, there was no lack of rolls (festival cake), as well as apples and nuts. The neighboring Glambeck Lake was very inviting in that season for ice skating, and often my grandfather skated on the ice. On the whole, he possessed a taunt body and was very agile. Thus he earned loud applause at the wedding of Mina Boecker in Stagenhorst when he jumped over the fixed arm of a comrade stretched at shoulder height. When the snow disappeared in the spring and waves from the lake came over the meadows, there was a rare hunting pleasure, pike spearing, which was at the same time also useful, because it enriched the kitchen and table. At spawning time, the pike came from the lake into the shallow water and remained there motionless in the sunshine. Targeted strength was required to push the spear in the back of the animals and pull them away the water. The greatest joy for Carl Bogenschneider was hunting with his gun. Near Hammelstall, toward Polchow, there were three moor bridges, and in the middle was the Bible Moor, and for a time it was occupied by a majestic deer. The game keeper was unable to shoot the splendid animal, but allowed my grandfather to fire a shot. What delightful luck! To the chagrin of the game keeper, what happened was what he had hoped for himself, the shot of the deer was successful. For a long time the quiet in the moorland was disrupted with a loud roar, and the blood of the forest king flowed. The old sailor and now ship builder Nueske in Aalgraben was a friend of the house. My grandfather exchanged with him the familiar address godfather, while the children called him in the Low German "pät," which means godfather in High German. "Godfather Nueske" spent many decades at sea and had brought back from his travels to Aalgraben many beautiful things, and his summer cottage had the appearance of a small museum. There were African buffalo horns, exotic weapons and ebony, ivory carvings and turtles, stuffed birds, also pictures from distant continents. Those pictures were sent framed by the master Bogenschneider. 18 At grandfather's property at Glambeck Lake, occasionally the old fisher Hameister came over. He was well-known as a fanciful boaster, and his “experiences” brought much amusement to grandfather's house. As a young warrior he had been with his father Blücher in France, and he had taken part in “seven battles and fourteen skirmishes." New Year's Eve 1814, the Prussian troops crossed the Rhine at Gaub, and in the river past Hameister, which days before had been ice free, he had swum "vigorously and bravely on a bundle of straw over the raging torrent." A fairy tale, was the middle daughter's usual admonition: "Badder, lög doch nich medder so!" Hammelstall was five quarters of a mile away from Stettin. Here shopping for the needs of life was done if they were not produced at home and the road was close enough for emergencies. In this the children had to be helpful; and as a seven-year-old also small Carl went alone to the city. The way was beautiful and varied; it led past fields, on winding paths along Glambecksee and past the invalid houses in which old soldiers led a peaceful life and thought about the past when they were led in the smoke of gun powder against the legions of the large army. The property was located in the Brunn forest, near a picturesque opening. In the summer the cuckoo called from the pear tree to the house, lapwings darted in the meadows, and the woodpecker made its hammering sound. Four cows were peacefully walking in the pasture, and there was even the happy clattering of the storks on the roof of the barn. The relationship of Carl Bogenschneider to the manorial family of Ramin had always been good. Thus the master craftsman one day received two rider pistols that had been used in military campaigns by Mr. von Kleist, the father-in-law of the manor's lord, as an indication of his appreciation. Unfortunately, however, things changed when the old lord died. The son and heir of the deceased, second lieutenant Wilhelm von Ramin, mortgaged the property with all the inventory to a Jewish capitalist named Dorn for fifteen years. He sought to make as much money as possible and wanted to sell the Brunn woodlands for firewood and lumber. He even wanted to include the age-old linden tree avenue from Völschendorf to the village Brunn. The game keeper Rehmenklau energetically petitioned the government to stop this. Thanks to him the magnificent old trees, the pride of the place, remained. Dorn was "a sourpuss," an unpleasant man, and he feuded with all the world and also master Bogenschneider was forced to defend himself against him. As a result, in 1852, when his brother August married, Carl left Hammelstall and exchanged it for a home in Völschendorf. But the mother Charlotte liked her familiar home, in which she had lived nearly forty years, and didn't want to give it up. She remained in Hammelstall with August, who had his own carpentry business, and a workshop for mill production. Carl Bogenschneider, as a young man, had no time to travel like his father, Carl Gottlob. He had to serve as the breadwinner for his mother and his young siblings, and he remained in one place. As a result, he did not have to be a soldier. But his brothers August and Wilhelm were fortunate to see the world in that way. August was an enthusiastic and brisk walker. He traveled to Dresden and the Saxon Switzerland and saw the bastion, which even then was the already widely acclaimed "Ruhstall." On his first hike he made a blue velvet cap with a broad brim then went around to over his ears. With a knapsack on his back and a long lit pipe, he proceeded to Leipzig, where he was a curiosity to the students, who tried to keep his cap as a remembrance of a brother traveling student. 19 August's marriage in Hammelstall was very regimented by his wife Friederike, a Berliner, whose father (master tanner Hartmann) was from the Pomeranian coast. On October 1853, the old mother Charlotta died. Now August left the family home and moved to the neighboring Polchow, a favorable location for his professional work. Later he acquired land near Hammelstall that was named Stritkamp because of its disputed community affiliation. Here he built himself a comfortable property and managed it, hard-working and thrifty to the death. For a short time he was followed by his son Georg, who then sold the property to work for an insurance company in Stettin as a general agent. George died early in the prime of life from a lung disease. As he had no children, it ended this branch of the family. His aged mother Friederike is still quite vigorous and remains the last witness to the past among us younger ones. Wilhelm Bogenschneider traveled during his apprenticeship migrations to Güstrin and was decommissioned there from military service. During the riots in 1849, he marched with the Prussian troops to suppress the republican uprising in Baden and then he came on holiday as a soldier to Hammelstall, where he was stared at by the children, particularly admiring his long helmet top and his red military uniform. Wilhelm resided in Völschendorf and lived there until his death in 1909. He was married twice. Despite various mishaps, he maintained a positive outlook and a sincere piety that drew him into the service of the church. Pastor Benz of Völschendorf, to whom I owe gratitude for his documented contributions to this work, called him a dignified character and, in view of his excellent memory, a walking chronicle. His oldest son, Paul sought a new home in America, while the younger Helmut lives as an active and respected man in Mandelkow near Stettin. Two adolescent sons of Helmut continue this branch of the family. It was 1848. Fury and indignation sounded from Berlin across the province and also affected the home of the master carpenter Carl Bogenschneider. With all sorts of excesses, the "potato war" was first announced. The potatoes that were stored in underground storage, probably spoiled by persistent cold and moisture, and in uncovering the potatoes there escaped a whitish vapor because of the fermentation of these fruits of the earth. The common people who knew nothing of the insidious work of bacilli were of the opinion that the smoke of the newly built railway was beaten into the ground and the potatoes were destroyed. With the lack of food passions grew, so that they robbed the potato barges in Stettin and finally proceeded to plunder the shops. Superstition and naive exaggerations flowered at this time. It was especially targeted at the person of the king, and it was said that the sex of the Hohenzollern would be punished by God's judgment because of his misdeeds, especially because of his lust. So little remained from the proud house, like the branches of a small shade tree. Also the railroad, which only had a few lines, was not popular, but rather it was viewed as injurious to health and as a crime against and hostile to providence. In 1847, master Bogenschneider showed his seven-year-old son Carl a train at the railway bridge at Güstow, an event which was appreciated with timid admiration, all the more so because the flagman reminded us to firmly hold our caps and move far away so that the whirlwind of the approaching monster caused no harm. 20 Even a fancy balloon came in the summer of 1848 and astonished the residents of Hammelstall, and with its massive appearance strengthened the opinion that the end of the world was approaching. But this view was commonly held, as it was predicted that the world would end in 1856. On a summer day the sun actually disappeared, and dark clouds covered the sky; the cattle went to the stables, and the birds searched for their nests. People saw this as the beginning of the great destruction. But it was a solar eclipse, and the fear was unnecessary. It was soon bright again, and the world continued in joy and in sorrow. Moreover, the fireplace and the warming oven offered ample opportunity to discuss such things, while also telling stories. The stolid bank of furnaces was almost in the middle of the room, heated with peat, as they carried on their praiseworthy reciting. The open fire united the women in the winter in common knitting and spinning. The thread purred as it ran around the spindle, and the wind blew the smoke, so spook and scary stories were exchanged about a mythical wolf who dealt in grain, and witches whose eerie goings on "Wolpur" (May 1) had to be warded off by crosses at home and on the stable door. How comforting it was for the little ones when the grandmother sat by the fireplace and sang ditties and told tales. As they sat listening, reverently with bated breath and entranced as the wind rustled the leaves outside and the rain trickled and dripped. It was a time to spin tales and to have tranquility, which in these fast moving times is missing. As once the ancients liked the twilight; It remained a secure room with the light far away. The quiet self-examination was dedicated to this time. To retreat within oneself who has such time today? The fireplace was used simultaneously for multiple cooking purposes, as it had three iron grates where the meal was prepared for two grunting animals. When visitors or society came to the home, resplendent tallow candles were on the tables. They were prepared by the hand of the housewife Johanna and had a wick that was trimmed with a light squeeze. But the candles were unpopular because they spread smoke and a foul smell and constantly required cleaning. How annoying this cleaning must have been, as even the great Goethe expressed this humble desire in a verse: Do not know what they could invent better, Than lights that burn without cleaning. Generally a sheet metal rapeseed oil lamp and the fire in the fireplace met the needs of the family. The kerosene lamp was nationally used only later, and it allowed one to read a book or newspaper. There was a large attendance when Gustav Freytag's newly published novel, "Goll and Haben," which was read in the leisure hours by the owner and discussed at length with the family. In place of the matches one had to rely on lighters, which consisted of a container of sulfuric acid and wooden stick whose end was coated with phosphorus. The latter was immersed in the acid, and thereby the phosphorus ignited and caused the sticks to burn. For lighting the tobacco pipes, the traditional fire sponge was used for years, and the flint began to glow (so-called Pinken) with the impact of steel. 21 For everyday use the coarse earthen dishes were used, and they were painted with colorful flowers and figures brightening up the kitchen. Sometimes old tin dishes were used, and the delicate elegant porcelain was only brought out on Sundays. Just like these were the food and the other material needs, almost all of which were made through the efforts and talents of the household. Special attention was given to the fruit and vegetable garden, because of their importance for the meals of the caring housewife. The churning was done in the usual way by churning the cream in a butter churn, an arduous task in which the older children had to participate. These were the ones who also produced the linseed oil. The seeds were crushed and the linseed oil pressed out of them with much difficulty. The linseed oil was used in carpentry and some also in households. In the Bogenschneider house there was a weaving loom where the women wove fabrics that were used in everyday use and for laundry, and also sometimes for clothes. The whole process of producing and harvesting flax, the spinning and weaving was to deliver everyday items. One was also modest in clothing. The children went mostly with bare feet in the summer, and in the winter they had to wear shoes, which seemed to them a bad time. They eagerly awaited the first cuckoo, who announced the time they could leave the cramped buildings and could go and play in the sun. Every autumn two fat pigs lost their lives. The butchering was especially anticipated with excitement by the children, because it delivered fresh blood and liver sausage for immediate consumption and those sides of bacon, ham and sausages were smoked in the wide-mouthed opening of the chimney in the kitchen. They provided food for future need in storage. We looked at the chimney sweep with suspicion because their sooty chimney work occasionally provided them with a portion of the smoked items. My grandfather smoked a pipe as was the custom of the day. This habit was cheap because tobacco was grown in the neighboring Krackow, and even in Völschendorf. Usually he bought several pounds of raw tobacco leaves on strings for his needs, and his son Carl was given the unpleasant task of crushing the tobacco and drying it in an iron pan over the fire. Charlotta, the good mother and grandmother of little Carl, ran the household with firm resolve. She spent a lot of time with the children, even when she crossed the yard dragging the cattle feed, she had one of the children in her arms. This energetic woman was always cleanly dressed in the costume of the Biedermeier period, and usually she wore a large, hooded shawl that she washed and ironed. On a daily basis life proceeded as a normal progression of events, and rarely was there an event which altered this normality. Following is an event which was not ordinary. It was a hot summer and the twelve-year-old Carl (who became my father) slept alone in a room in the house near the village square in Völschendorf. Over his bed there was a supply of glass and window panes, which his father needed as a master carpenter for his work. At the beginning of the night the small one got out of his bed in order to go outside. There he saw a woman's shape, and she motioned to him with her hand from the other end of the village near the church grounds. She was lifted from the ground and her form flowed in the moonlight. Frightened the boy rushed back into the house. But then suddenly the door to the room swung 22 back and forth and scraping steps moved toward his bed. Then there was a rumbling and rattling of the window panes and a sound of them being smashed into pieces. However, the next morning there was no broken glass and the glass panes were intact on their rack. But soon Weber Martin appeared to place an order for a coffin for his wife who died that night. Young Carl, from ages seven to twelve, attended the school in Polchow where the very effective teacher Wittenhagen taught as much as possible to his students. Here he also had a very talented schoolmate, Fritz Holdorf, a farmer's son, who distinguished himself and had both the talent and will to succeed. He later achieved a leading position at the world renown Vulcan shipyard near Stettin. Carl was educated at home with his siblings with discipline and modesty was stressed. Thus, the older children until the age of 12, had to stand during the meal at the table, and they were not allowed to sit in the presence of adults. Two years before his confirmation, Carl was instructed by the local clergyman, Pastor Schallehn. By the way, Carl's singing voice surpassed those of the girls in his class at Völschendorf. In some other places the teaching still involved hands-on experience. So even a shoemaker (Lünse) in the neighboring village of Brunn, taught shoemaking to some boys during school hours. He often worked during school time doing farm field work. Meanwhile, his wife often represented him, especially if spanking was needed, and that she handed out liberally with a washcloth. Pastor Schallehn was popular with his congregation and got along well with the Bogenschneider family. His cross, however, was four sons who were difficult to educate. Occasionally, he also had a mean parishioner. Such was the worker Wengaz from Brunn, with whom he had a conflict because of church fees. A heavy rain blown by the autumn winds went on for days, and the road from Völschendorf to the Brunn churchyard was like a swamp and was almost unusable. Sadly, the pastor announced the death of a Wengaz child and Wengaz announced he intended "in silence" to bury the body because of the bad weather without the participation of the pastor. Schallehn agreed but reminded Wengaz that he still had to pay church dues. "Don't expect me to pay the dues, Mr. Pastor, because you did not come!" announced Wengaz. He put the coffin on his wheelbarrow and drove in his ragged Sunday pants to the cemetery. Pastor Schallehn and his sexton with Christian devotion in their hearts, put on their biggest boots and traveled in the bad weather. One peculiar congregation member enjoyed the pastor. It was the farmer Fritz Gollnow, who otherwise was in good health, but had an almost continuous need for sleep. At the beginning of worship, as long as he was still awake, he sang along with a very strong voice, but then he fell into his usual slumber, which lasted until the final song came. Aroused by the members, he again participated with his mighty voice and great fervor, and then he left the church with the awareness that he had completely fulfilled his duty to God. Gollnow and most farmers lived in the village with self-awareness, coupled with a quiet selfconfidence. Each part of the verse, my father often heard as a child from the lips of his grandmother Charlotta, and he occasionally recited it with the memory of his rural home in jest as follows: 23 My master painter! what do you want? To portray all of us? Me, the rich peasant Grohl And my faithful wife? Joe, our oldest son, He already knows our daughters: Greten, Urseln, Stine Have pretty faces. Times' He only the whole village And the church inside. Michel leads a load of peat, Many women weave. Near the cemetery is the house Where we go one and out, It says Rest in Peace In addition to the year and date. (Balthasar Anton Dunker, 1782. * 15.01.1746 - † 02.04.1807 was a German artist, sketcher and writer.) From August Bogenschneider, the brother of my grandfather, an event should be mentioned from which with some luck he could have emerged as a rich man. In his carpentry shop he had a journeyman who had to spend some time in prison for some crimes. There he got to know a sickly, old inmate who had abandoned all hope of a better life in freedom and knew that he would die in the prison hospital. That old inmate told him about a carpenter's box with forty thousand crowns and a gold chain that was buried in the vicinity of the Prussian fort near Stettin under a certain tree. When the journeyman told his master (August) the secret information, the two decided to dig up the treasure. In the next few nights they went well armed like Goethe's treasure seekers to look for the money. But they found nothing, which ultimately was not surprising to them, and soon they had forgotten about their adventure. But they were amazed when one day the newspaper announced that in the razing of the fortifications of the fortress, prisoners had actually found the forty thousand crowns, and the golden chain! In the immediate vicinity of their excavations the chest had laid buried, and with a little more perseverance and belief in success they would have gained the coveted wealth. The manor Prilipp that Johann Carl Boy, the father-in-law of Carl Bogenschneider managed, was leased out because the widowed landowner could not afford to run it in the existing economy, and therefore a nephew of the Boys, named Behnke, took over the lease. Boy entered a second marriage, in the town Gramzow, and remained in the Uckermark until his death in 1845. While still living, he gave his grandson Carl Bogenschneider, the son of his deceased daughter Friederike, an inheritance of two thousand crowns. Boy also bequeathed to his second wife (nee Gluth), with whom he had a daughter, half of his total assets. The children of his first marriage were upset by the new marriage of the father and challenged the validity of the inheritance in a lengthy but unsuccessful process. Finally the estate was sold privately at the unreasonably cheap price of sixty-two thousand thalers. The buyer was the executive Kopp from Stettin. 24 Master Carl Bogenschneider lived for four years in Völschendorf. In 1856 he moved to the village of Kolow beyond the Oder, where his friendly relationship with foresters also gave him the opportunity to partake in his hunting hobby. Five years later, in 1861, he went back to his hometown of Scheune near Stettin, west of the Oder, and bought a mill from the miller Hahn. Unfortunately the acquisition of this mill proved to be a financial disaster to Carl and the next generation of his family. This will be explained later. Carl Bogenschneider ran into financial difficulties and was glad when he could rid himself of the mill. He then lived for several years in the neighboring small village of Reinke and then finally moved to Pommerensdorf on the road to Stettin to his last apartment. His youngest son August gave him support, and August learned the carpentry trade and gradually took the place of the aging father. The home and workshop were located on the land near the railway bridge of the owner Jannot, and this is where the writer of this chronicle visited the grandfather several times. He was a gaunt, bearded man of medium size, with gray-brown eyes, and at work and while reading he wore glasses, but not when he conversed. Until he aged he had a fast but effortless walk. He was not only skilled in his particular profession, but he used the same skill in plumbing, glazing and turning wood, and he devoted himself to making inlaid woods. His workshop, which produced items that delighted the heart of the chronicler, was marked by remarkable order and cleanliness. But despite his diligence and ability, he was unable to improve his wealth because he was too trusting and forgiving in business relationships. A change occurred in 1882 as his son August and the young woman Emilie married and she came into the house. Now the mother Johanna was relieved of her duties, and the daughter took over and managed the house prudently and actively, in order to enlarge the customer base and to increase the income. Marie, the daughter of the old Bogenschneider couple, was at that time with her aunt Auguste Boy at the manor Grünhof near Prussian Friedland in West Prussia. With sisterly love, Auguste now invited Johanna to stay with them. After the landlord Ferdinand died, Grünhof was sold. When Marie married in Dobrin near the Prussian-Friedland, she took her mother into her own home and nursed her until her death in winter of 1903. The grave of the deceased is located in the cemetery at Dobrin. The old Carl Bogenschneider remained with his son August, who took over his business and workshop. In later years, a bad hip plagued him, yet he kept diligent and lively as in his younger years. He closed his eyes a final time on 27 September 1886, a few days after having an inflammatory bowel disease. He was buried on the property on the Apfelalle near Stettin at the hospital cemetery. 25 The Fifth Generation Master Carl Bogenschneider had, as we saw, from his brief marriage to Friederike Boy their only son, Carl, my father. His long marriage with the second wife Johanna produced eight children. Ida, Mathilde and Johanna died in quick succession from a scarlet fever epidemic that ran through the Randow county in the spring of 1853. Four of them died at a young age. The eldest daughter, Auguste, a beautiful girl, married Karl Brandt, the owner of a bakery and flour store in Stettin. She died in 1871, leaving behind one son, Berthold. Besides Auguste, the sons Ernst and August grew up and are still living today, as well as the daughter Marie. Ernst was not strong as a child, and when grown he learned the bakery trade from his brother-in-law Brandt in Stettin. He has developed into a strong man who has overcome various adversities in his life, and demonstrates expertise and diligence in his profession. When newly married, a case of typhoid fever had him at the edge of his grave. His wife also fell ill and died from the treacherous fever. Ernst now lives with his second wife, Mathilde, and is assisted by his son Hans, who works in his father's business in Züllchow near Stettin. August Bogenschneider spent his childhood in Gramzow with his playmate and cousin of about the same age, August Bailleul. Eleven years ago he came back to his parents' house in Völschendorf. He learned from his father and took over the carpentry business and customers, as I said previously. Actively encouraged by his wife Emilie, he has managed to buy two house plots that are situated near the Apfelallee municipal hospital in Pommernsdorf near Stettin. He has two living daughters. The oldest, Margaret, is married to the county accountant Paeglow in Stettin, while the younger Magdalene still lives with her parents. The only remaining daughter of the old Bogenschneider couple is Marie, born in 1855. She helped her brother Ernst in the difficult days when he was ill and when he lost his wife through death. Since then these siblings share a special bond with each other. Marie moved to the manor Grünhof in West Prussia and lived a carefree existence. She lived as a child of the house and eventually took part in the care of Aunt Augusta. For years she then lived in Dobrin near Prussian-Friedland, in a pretty country house as the wife of the property owner Carl Joppen. Widowed since 1905, she has lived for some time in the household of her only daughter, Louise, who married a relative, Albert Boy, the Royal Telegraph Secretary. The young Carl Bogenschneider, my father, was not aware of the loss of his birth mother, because since childhood he was raised alongside his step-siblings from his father's second wife and honored her as his own mother. Under the rural roof of his parents' house he grew up to be a strong boy who made himself useful in all the duties of household. He was a child of nature. In the forest he overheard the hare and the deer, and he rejoiced in the songs of birds and imitated with precision the call of the cuckoo and the "Bülow bird," which announced the rain. Only later did an eventful fate compel him to use all the forces in his struggle for existence. Until the sixteenth year of life Carl remained at home, and at age 14 he was confirmed by the pastor Schallehn, and he came with a handsome greenish-gray "Kalmuck calvary coat." He was to learn the craft of carpentry from his father, but he received no training, because my grandfather was busy at that time and for months was at remote locations. My father didn't 26 know what to do, but he was not inclined to follow in his father's craft and he chose the occupation of miller. There were in the Stettiner forest close to the Falkenwalder road seven natural ponds, each of which fed a water mill. They lay conveniently in the mountains terraced one above the other, and they became a strong flowing brook that gave the enterprise the name “seven-brook mills.” The third mill was tall in height -- it was called the mountain mill -- and belonged to the master Blaurock, who was also owner of a windmill in Wussow. In these two mills my father spent his training, which extended from the years 1856 to 1860. In contrast to the unsatisfactory training time learning some other ventures those years, my father received satisfaction from this work, and when he thought back to this time, the time passed quickly with the hard work and he was amidst scenic surroundings. It reflects the mill poetry that drew the poet's words: A mill I see flashing out of the alders; With noise and singing the mill wheel turns. See the building, so cozy, and the windows shining; Oh, welcome, welcome, sweet song of the mill! Work in Blaurock's mills did have some issues. Some nights they couldn't sleep when they had to produce large orders of flour. Once they passed their apprenticeship, they were expected to produce in a night one and a half Wispeln (a Wispel is twenty-four bushels) of ground flour. The amount was modeled on the amount produced by the older employee Henry Duvinage, a skillful, energetic man who had thoroughly learned the mill craft when his apprenticeship ended. Tough and weatherproof, Duvinage showed no weakness. In winter water holes were created in the ice of the pond and the latter would take water from the hole to wash, and most of his toiletry was completed on the ice. Quite often the winter cold left ice on the ceiling under which the weary lay down for a short nap. The food preparation was easy; it consisted primarily of a flour soup called Kliebensuppe. Although nutritious, it lacked appeal because it was served year in and year out and was served three times a day, morning, noon and night. Master Blaurock was a rough, but insightful man. His wife portrayed herself as a refined lady. Blaurock's son Hermann was the same age as my father, and he learned about agriculture and the operation of the mill. He was almost killed one day by a falling millstone, a French runner. My father almost was a victim of his profession. It was a biting cold, starry night in December. While he was busy trying to take a blade from the wheel of the windmill, it began to turn and began to lift my father up and he had to jump down from above and lay almost unconscious on the ground. In late summer of 1858, my father had the opportunity to close the Wussow mill in the mountains. At this time, Prince Frederick William, the future Emperor Frederick III, was observing a service field exercise. Hermann Blaurock and my father worked in the fields, and my father's task was to pull the big rake. During the exercise, the prince dismounted from his horse, and his aide struggled to bring the saddle in order. Noise made by the rustling of the rake, made the animal rear and jump. Initially the prince gave my father an angry glance, but unconcerned he moved the rake and the prince hollered "Do me the favor and go away." Thus passed the training years, and after he acquired the "testimony of the journey" in March, the new miller moved from there in the autumn of 1860. Master Blaurock often expressed later that he had been his best and most reliable apprentice. 27 A few days later, in October, 1860, my father replaced the white coat with the king's uniform. From Kolow, the former residence of his father, he went to the second (Pomeranian) Battalion in Greifswald, where he volunteered following a passion. The battalion, which was organized in 1838 by the great Bismarck, had no separate barracks, but rather the soldiers lived with citizens in neighborhoods, usually several assigned to the same home. My father was assigned to the third company. Again he enjoyed a wonderful time, a time of powerful movement and faithful companionship, and he was even happier when with seven companions in the battalion he was selected to a singing group that sang at festive occasions and other occasions. Here the polyphonic sentence sounded: "I wonder what on earth pleasures the hunter!" and the magnificent hunting call: "The ground steams, the heights glow, What a happy hunting in the forest green!" In his later years, my father often thought of his time in military service, and told of the joy and sorrow of those days of hard service and the cheerful feuds in which hunters and students of the university competed. Then there also was the perpetually hungry comrade Foth, who when escorting a bread truck secretly took some fresh bread for the clerks for himself, and from behind the truck, ate uninterrupted without chewing each ingredient to the last chunk. And the hunter Otto, his captain explained, will use his poor military diploma as a riding blanket! He was a farmer and came from a good family. His second lieutenant (the Baron von Troschke) asked if his father had more stupid sons like him, and he replied cheerfully and truthfully: "Yes, my father says he has, and that he is much more stupid than I am. He is a second lieutenant." Times and people deteriorated since then; probably all the boisterous youth are already on the lawn. At that time, when my father served the king, my grandfather bought the windmill in the village Scheune near Stettin, which was already spoken of earlier. And the purchase had as mortgagee the landowner Gernershaufen. My grandfather, who had the best intentions for his family, wanted my father to operate the mill because he was a trained miller. Unfortunately, the property was so indebted that the last owner, the mill master Koch, had given up. Since Gernershaufen claimed eight hundred dollars in mediation, a larger sum of money was required. Having the situation explained to him, my father consented to pay the bills and to buy the mill with the two thousand dollars he had received in a court-filed, maternal inheritance. For a year, a journeyman worked in the mill, and my grandfather reclaimed his son from the military, and he returned home as a two year reservist in December 1862 to take over the work at the mill. From then everything went well, and happiness returned to the Bogenschneider house like earlier days. In the military, my father had made the acquaintance of a neighboring landowner, the son of Mayor Wilhelm Schröder from Klein Reinkendorf near Scheune. When the latter returned to his parents' house, a warm and lasting friendship developed between the comrades and 28 extended to the mutual families. Wilhelm afterwards took over the legacy of his father and the mayor's office, which he held and successfully managed until his death, in October 1912. Yet another friendship arose at this time with the family Rachut. On a small area between Alt Tonen and Pommerensdorf lived a retired prison officer from Naugard. "Old Rachut" was well known because of his unusual physical strength. This good man later served as a nurse for my mother and helped when in need. Equal to him was his daughter, Louise, a good and industrious girl who helped the family Bogenschneider. One son, August, was a sergeant in the artillery in Stettin and as such took part in the upcoming campaigns. In the 1870s, the friendship was renewed in Berlin, where Louise, married the young William Babin, and had her home. There, in the friendly Moabit district, the aged widow still lives near her son and daughter. I enjoyed visiting the family, and I fondly remember the times when I followed my parents there. In the spring of 1864 my father took a trip from Scheune to West Prussia, to visit his uncle Alexander Boy in Flatow and the relatives Boy on the manor Grünhof near Prussian-Friedland. The plan of his uncle was to join him with his only daughter, Ida, but this did not meet the wishes of my father. In Prussian-Friedland he learned of a sister of the wife of his uncle Alexander, who was the young widow Caroline Aminde (nee Dumke), and he felt an affection for her, and this woman became the companion of my father and my mother. As a result, my father was encouraged by the Grünhof relatives repeatedly to buy a mill in that area. He hired employees to run his operation and therefore tentatively went again the next year to Prussian-Friedland. But it was not with the intention of purchase, but it was the unforgettable twenty-two year old widow that took him there. Again, the mill became the millers field of work, and the engagement with "his Linchen" soon took place. In the time while the son was absent, my grandfather left the Scheune mill and laid his rights and concerns on the shoulders of others. My father was recalled to Scheune, and young and inexperienced, he took over the mill property with all the debts and a new mortgage, which were set up in favor of the step-siblings Ernst, Marie and August. With such financial exposure, it was foreseeable that the property could not be kept in the long run, but for the time being this was not expressed by the young master. On his birthday, 30 January 1866, he married Caroline Aminde. The wedding was celebrated in the home of the bride's parents in Flatow, and was one of the last rays of hope before a long list of problems that my parents soon had to face. The Dumke Family John Dumke, my mother's father, was born in 1800 in Petzin, West Prussia as the son of the landowner Christian Dumke who at a time was a cuirassier in the squad. At twenty, he enlisted in Kaiser Franz Grenadier Guards regiment in Berlin, and after the military service he remained several years in residence where he refined his social skills. This later was well noted back in West Prussia. No wonder that he was sought after as a bachelor, and that other girls did not like the diminutive Johanna Louise Redmann who indulged him in Flatow, and he offered her his hand. However, Johanna Louise received a rich heritage from her home life. Widowed three times, her mother possessed from all the marriages a farm so that she could offer something to her daughters. Despite this she practiced utmost diligence and frugality prevailed. Even into her 29 old age the widow Redmann worked alongside her son-in-law like one of the servants. One could hardly image how hard she worked., and often daughters Ida and Caroline sighed near tears, "Oh, this night is like one year for farmers!" Even as small children, my mother and her siblings had to make themselves useful in the household. So they first were responsible for the herding; later, they participated in the field work and all the obligations of the house and the farm economy. They had to knit and spin and weave, and the work even extended to the production of raw materials such as wool and canvas. It was a varied full existence, with no idleness and boredom, and their work as children made them incredibly energetic people, who shrank from no labor and didn't complain. They treated their parents with childlike obedience and respect. My grandfather Dumke was a forthright and ethical man who knew how to deal with all the difficulties of life through a positive conciliatory philosophy. His advice was freely sought by all men, and because of his openness, he was very popular. He was a frugal person, and usually only on the day that he as a member of the church council "poured coffee," as he drank a glass of brown beer. His only recreation was on Sunday afternoon when he lay down on his bed for a quick nap. Six children grew up in the house. It had been fourteen, but eight of them died at a young age. Frightened by the thought that an evil fate would deprive them of even more children in the future, my grandmother went into deep mourning. She hoped to avert a disaster by a visible sign of her humility and made the peculiar vow that her daughter Ida as a sign of humility would only wear black clothes. And see, no new death occurred! It was not easy for the innocent victim Ida, who in her youth wanted to wear the brighter colors worn by her siblings all those years. Caroline, my mother had a merry heart and was always pulling funny pranks, but it was also easy for her to help those embarrassed. So a little story should be mentioned about when she was guardian of the geese. At the top of the martin birdhouse, stood a handsome gander who did not like to be on the land, but preferred the water. He would swim with his flock out on the lake, so it was hard to lure him in the evening to return to the land. But the guardian had an idea. She tied a rope around the leg of the animal so that at any time she could draw him to shore without difficulty. The idea was good, but it just happened that the said "gander" pulled so hard on the rope that it tore off his leg. The gander had to be slaughtered, and the grandmother was so angry that she made the little one eat the goose by herself all at one time. But the grandfather intervened and invited all the family members to self-sacrifice themselves and share in in the punishment. My mother had a sense of humor and a propensity for pranks until her old age. Even in the later years, when she had shortness of breath and heart problems, she still joked amidst her afflictions. But then my mother would say: "I wish I could have one hour of my life back." It was evidence of the thorny path given to her. Their industriousness, combined with the spinning and weaving talents of the Dumke daughters naturally increased their dowry. They did not need to wait long for a long time for suitors, and when young they already entered womanhood. The oldest, Wilhelmine, became wife of the manor tenant Manske. A manifold fate guided the pair to Prussian Friedland and they established themselves and died there at an old age on a small piece of property. 30 Ida, the next daughter, married the already mentioned Alexander Boy, the uncle of my father and farmer and owner of a mill. She was an untiringly active woman, who supported her husband with strength and intelligence. Her children also thank her for their growth and support. Similarly, Ida Pauline, the next younger sister of my mother, married the bank official Knoblauch in Berlin. She also operated with untiring diligence and set her mind and willpower to achieve a superior position in their social circle. Even at a young age, she founded a business, from which she obtained a decades-long income, from which no good man would need to be ashamed. Pauline took care of her widowed mother, the old grandmother Dumke, who lived with her (in Berlin, Magdeburg Street No. 35) arriving in 1879. The last of the sisters, Berta, gave her hand to the competent bank official Kaiser in Berlin. This brought the only member of the Catholic faith into our evangelical family. In 1908, he died of apoplexy, without having achieved the success one could expect from such great talent and skill. Gustav, the only son, was expected to be the heir to the family and was his father's favorite. He was favored over his siblings. Inspired by the desire to get rich in a short time, he went to Berlin and then to America. Here he was joined for a time by his wealthy cousin, William Dumke, but after a few letters to the relatives, nothing more was reported of him. Since 1873, he, like so many victims of the emigrant fever, is lost in America. Already mentioned by me elsewhere, my mother was widowed when she married my father. At eighteen, in Prussian-Friedland, she married the master butcher Aminde who was from a French refugee family, and who progressed beyond his education. The marriage was of short duration. Aminde, who loved his young wife tenderly, suffered from a lung disease as a result of a cold and died in the arms of his poor wife. She was twenty-one years old, with three children, a pair of twins and one child born after the death of her husband. Four times she had to overcome the funeral wreath, because the children soon died in succession. During the illness of her husband, the young woman had much grief and frustration. Two sisters of her husband, who had separated from their husbands, usually came with their children at her table. They indulged in intrigues and gossip and embittered the already grief stricken housewife's life. Besides this, the continuously fighting parents-in-law were often present and she had the burden of a large business and household. All this was too much for a twenty-year-old, but she did not lose perspective and relied on her inner drive. After the death of her husband, Caroline Aminde for some time ran the butcher shop alone. Then she dissolved the business at the behest of his parents. They took the possessions and the money for themselves, while the house and land they left to the daughter-in-law, who originally brought a dowry with farmland and two barns. She was previously loved by a concerned husband, but now was completely on her own without family and income. But she was not discouraged, with the little money she had she furnished some rooms in her house, and by renting them to students of the Friedlander teacher seminar, managed a modest livelihood. When on Easter 1864 my father appeared for the first time visiting his relatives in West Prussia, he also paid a short visit to the lonely widow. This visit was significant for the young people, because it led to life paths together and united them in a common destiny. 31 My Parents in Scheune near Stettin. The War of 1866. The first home of my parents, as we saw, was on the mill property in Scheune near Stettin. Before the settlement, my mother sold her house (which is called in view of its repeated mention the Aminde house) to her brother-in-law Alexander Boy, who now moved his residence from Flatow to Prussian-Friedland. Of the agreed purchase price, which was a very cheap price of two thousand crowns, my mother took half in cash, while the other half was deferred. Those two thousand dollars and a strong work ethic was the property my mother brought her second husband, my father, in the marriage. However, the greater part of the money had to be immediately used to repay the liabilities that grandfather Bogenschneider had from the acquisitions of the mill, and the remainder was used for the procurement of the property. It was a beautiful and favorable location near the crossing of the Berlin chaussee and the road to Scheune. Also, as it turned out, it possessed a treasure of clay and gravel. But it only helped the subsequent owner obtain large profits, because my parents based the property value on its current use and without the resources. My father was deterred by an incident not to excavate the property. With some occasional earthwork, two human skeletons which apparently had been there for a long time, were discovered on the property. Perhaps they were fallen soldiers, or perhaps they were victims of some dark act. The troubling find was immediately buried again. But my parents remained troubled and they thought much about future hardship. A few months after my parents were married to each other, the war between Prussia and Austria broke out and my father was called to the colors. In the Danish campaign of 1864, he had not fought since the Second Army Corps, to which he belonged, was only partially mobilized. Now, on 14 May 1866, he went as a reservist to the Royal Grenadier Regiment No. 2 in Stettin, and from there to march into enemy territory. My mother was alone on the land and had to leave the milling to a journeyman. But he was a mischievous man, who took advantage of the lack of oversight to enrich himself and his helper through secret sales of flour and falsifying records. During this bad situation, my mother suddenly fell ill with cholera. Wrestling with death, she lay on her bed all by herself, because others feared the contagious disease and left her alone. But then appeared as the savior the old Rachut, who we knew as a neighbor and friend of the Bogenschneider family. He came from his house and single-handedly helped the seriously ill woman. Despite his age and rheumatic complaints, he came to care for her, and without fear, he sat at the bedside, with his only defense against his own infection being an occasional brandy. My mother overcame the crisis and took slow steps to recovery. The miller, whose machinations had reduced the customer base, was released and my mother's cousin, Friedrich 32 Dumke, a native of West Prussia, took his place. He was an industrious and skillful man, and for the rest of my father's absence he oversaw the mill operation. We continue to lay a wreath, woven with deep, heartfelt gratitude, on the grave of the dear old friend of my parents, the faithful Rachut. Meanwhile my father endured all the hardships of the campaign, steeled in work and weather, he endured heat, thirst and lack of sleep. On 28 and 29 June, he was in the battles of Münchengrätz and Gitschin, and on 3 July he took part in the great battle of Königgrätz. In all the battles the bullets whizzed sometimes in close proximity, but he escaped without injury. He often later told with enthusiasm about each battle that served as the prelude to the time of embattlement in which the unification of the German people took place. The war brought heavy, bloody days; but it did bring some peaceful and serene images. Like the one mentioned by my father that he witnessed during the fight in Gitschin. The Prussian troops penetrated the place at night. They surged through the streets and there was a tumult and cries of pain. Then a door opens, and in her nightly garb appears an elderly woman, who scolds them to stop the noise and asked with a loud voice for peace. "It is night-sleeping time! Decent people do not make such a spectacle!" But none showed an understanding for the desires of the old woman. A number of powerful explosions came raining down to provide illumination for the road and forced her and her shy husband inside. Königgrätz! In a persistent struggle, the Prussians under King Wilhelm hold off a powerful hostile force. But they do not succeed in progressing because the Austrians, in secured positions, defend themselves by disciplined, effective fire. The forces are ready to launch an attack. In the morning light the army of the Crown Prince moves forward, and now starts the turbulence of one massive last attack. In the course of the struggle, the old company to which my father belonged, had instructions to cover the Prussian artillery, and for this purpose they set up as shooters swarming in a large manure pit. Now storms roared as the cannons approached. By chance close by was my father's friend from home -- Sergeant Rachut. The next moment, the cannons fired against the enemy, and the gunners took off their Wassen uniforms, and worked in the sweat of the brow. Quickly the homeland companions greeted each other, and besides the joy, my father also gained materially from the reunion. He had not eaten for a long time, and now meat and bread from the Rachut saddlebags were placed into his hands with a short throw. At a high point of the terrain, the battalion commander Major von Stelting had stationed himself. Unexpectedly, they had remained spared from enemy fire. When my father tried to get a glimpse of the battlefield, the officer pounced on him with some stern words. He probably came here because he saw that there was no danger. In this area, however, when the words were spoken, an extremely sharp bombardment of the hill began. The shells struck to the right and to the left blowing up the ground. But now the royal grenadier did not move from the spot and proved himself honorary in that he was not afraid of the danger. The sight of the dead bodies and the wounded had become a habit in a few days, but a battle between the Prussian dragoons and Austrian cuirassiers left a lasting impression on my father. It was the blind striking and thrusting of man against man. My father was not allowed to shoot for fear of hitting a comrade. The Prussian Lancers intervened in the battle, and in a terrible carnage the Austrians were overwhelmed and they then ran away in a pack. 33 It was a wonderful evening when the battle was over. For miles around the watch-fires blazed in the sky and the warriors were happy. Lying on the ground, my father wrote on top of his knapsack to his wife the news of the victory and his well-being. By early the next month, the brief successful campaign for Prussia ended, thanks to the improved weaponry of its infantry and superior leadership it unexpectedly quickly gained the upper hand. But the troops had suffered greatly from the heat of the sun and tormenting thirst, because the overheated soldiers on march were forbidden to drink water. But the cholera spread and many soldiers died on the ground. In September they went back home. As everywhere, there was a jubilant reception in Stettin, with oak leaves and bunches of flowers on the bayonets as the heroes marched into the city. My mother was among those who awaited the return in the street, and with jubilation greeted them on King Street as her husband approached. With her was her brother-in-law Brandt and his wife Auguste, and Wilhelm Bogenschneider, the youngest brother of my grandfather. My parents were happy to be reunited after a long separation, and to work together in a new business, a business, however, that would not last that long! At the end of the following month my mother gave birth to her first child. It was my brother Carl, a healthy, chubby boy. He was not affected by my mother's disease. At the same time uneasiness persisted, for the problems that started with the acquisitions of the mill continued. Brandt, the brother-in-law of my father, had actually taken over the mortgage of my father's stepsiblings for one thousand dollars. When it came time to pay the supplies, he did not have the money, and he gave the document to the Jewish millers Roth and Omann in payment. They demanded that my father pay the debt with cash money. My father unable to do this, and in seeing that he had no other options, gave up the mill to the former owner. In the following foreclosure he was deprived of the beautiful land. Apart from his own two thousand dollars, my mother also lost half of her possession, the thousand dollars she brought with her to Scheune. This was the first blow that hit my parents, and was the beginning of the problems that were to follow. Brandt's lack of business knowledge created a situation that caused my father's failure, and who in his kindheartedness had to pay for. We will lower the veil over it and leave those worries of that time in Pomerania to follow my parents to a new home. In Prussian-Friedland there was a windmill, on which my father had temporarily worked in the years 1864 and 1865, for sale. It had become vacant by the death of the builder and owner Wollermann and could be acquired through a court purchase. With the confidence that they would be more successful on this land than the earlier one, my parents moved to West Prussia in early 1867 and took over the new property for the price of six thousand dollars. As a deposit they used the remaining thousand dollars my mother had from the sale of her (Aminde) property and which her brother-in-law Alexander Boy had deferred and now paid. The old grandfather Dumke, my mother's father, contributed one thousand eight hundred dollars, for which he took a secondary mortgage. 34 My Parents in Prussian Friedland As for your long, anxious hours Far away a new nest found And trembling stand at a barren threshold, Since Mrs. Worry was again on hand And spread out her arms in blessing And blessed you and your house And she blessed them that in the depths Annoch slept the sleep of non-being. (Sudermann: Mrs. Worry) They were at Wollermann mill for little more than three years, and the property was still not profitable. Above all, the land was unproductive because it was rocky and needed years of treatment to be capable of producing enough income. Nevertheless, my parents with all diligence took the plow to hand to fill in when the milling business revenue dropped. But adversity of every kind made them ashamed. Two wings on the windmill broke due to improper handling by the miller Kolterman. Their replacement was expensive and that money had to be borrowed. There hardly remained enough for the basic necessities of life for the young miller couple. Koltermann almost burned down the mill because of difficulties, but the mill was uninsured. There was another mill that the owner burned because of the low population in the area and he was imprisoned for many years. Millers had a reputation for being dishonest, and thefts were common. Several times my father surprised the journeymen and helpers when they stole flour and counterfeited the sale of flour and bread. Dangerous firings then followed. My parents felt powerless when during the summer of 1869 there was not the slightest wind to drive the windmill. No milling could be done, and my father was even forced to get for their own use flour from a water mill. Now my parents tried another source of income -- a bread bakery. For this purpose, they used a furnace that Wollermann had installed in-house, and a 35 journeyman knew how to operate the furnace. The cousin Alexander Boy, who lived at the Amine house in the city, took the bread to his home to sell. Maybe everything would now be better when my parents made a regular income through the operation of the bakery. Alexander Boy gradually sold the bread for three hundred dollars, but that income was not sufficient and was spread out over a long period. As a result of all these hardships, my parents were unable to pay the interest on the mortgage on the property. The creditors, who were afraid for the security of their money, threatened now with foreclosure and raised the suspicion that the involvement of the grandfather's secondary mortgage had been a sham maneuver. Because of his involvement and to safeguard his own money, the grandfather Dumke bid on the property at the judicial sale and purchased the property and mill in November 1870. To cover the unpaid interest, all the harvested grain, the horse and cart, and other possessions had to be given up by my parents. Also, the dwelling had to be vacated immediately upon the request of the official receiver. The few belongings, which remained, were covered with snowdrifts and bitter winter cold weather in the yard, including the birthplace of one and a half year old little brother Gottwalt. So three hard years had gone by, years that had hardly a bit of sunshine that brought joy and laughter, and my parents were back on the ground. A bad fate and the lack of funds with which they struggled since the failure in Scheune, now totally took their possessions and existence. The departure from house and home, which had been a place of hope was staggering. Grandmother Dumke had rejected crying in her home. But she felt sorry for her daughter, who never thought of herself, and didn't even have boots for her feet. But as many women in hours of misfortune, my mother showed that quiet composure which springs from the consciousness of innocence, and the constant fulfillment of duty. My grandfather Dumke had sold his property in Flatow and came to Prussian-Friedland to retire on a small plot near the entrance of the city (on Marienfelder Way). It was the one that later passed into the possession of his oldest daughter Wilhelmine Manske. After the judicial sale of the mill property, he took it as his residence, and my parents temporarily moved into his house. But the old man was only in that home for a few weeks. Every year at winter time, he suffered from lung problems, and he came down with a severe cold. As a result, he died after a short illness on January 26, 1871. Since the mill demanded proper handling, and my grandmother could not manage the property, she sold it to her oldest son-in-law, Alexander Boy, at a price that was less than a thousand dollars, the price that grandfather Dumke had paid for it. Alexander Boy for years also had a difficult time with the mill, but the lower cost of acquisition and revenue from the milling and from livestock helped him finally to make a profit. Gradually, the arable land was fertile, and other circumstances, such as the construction of a road, helped to raise the value of the property. The further history of the mill is briefly told. Up to Alexander's death it remained in his possession, and after him it was taken over by his wife, Ida. Finally, the son Erich too over the place, and he kept it until 1911 and then tore it down. At that time the property was sold to a distant buyer (Meisert), who transformed the mill place into an open field. 36 For half a century people had labored here with the utmost effort, to wrest a livelihood from a stubborn soil. My parents, who worked so hard to be successful, had been denied. They were very bitter, and it caused extreme tension and humiliation for them. This was found out years later from her. Grandmother Dumke moved back to the city plot at Marienfelder Way after her husband's death, where in the meantime my parents had found their refuge, and my mother again was forced to leave the former Amine house, which until then was where her brother-in-law Alexander Boy had lived. At that time the great German-French War raged. It was a bloody mass battle of the German tribes against the hereditary enemy. It was a great time to put an end to the shame and disruption of the German nation, and fulfill the wistful dreams of youth, and turn it into truth and reality. My father, who was in the thirty-first years of life, joined the militia, and he was therefore no longer in the field, but remained in the military. Beginning in January 1871, he initially walked to Thorn, where he was transferred to the Infantry Regiment No. 61 in Bromberg. Again, my mother was alone. But this time she was in an even worse situation than during the campaign of 1866. Not only were the house and land lost, but she also had three small children to support. My mother had no opportunity to earn any money, and other sources of income were not available, but she lived with us children thanks to her parents. Her father, the old Dumke, died. She always felt for him a heartfelt love, and through his quiet and enduring good nature he had given her comfort and consolation in adversity. During the night his death my mother had a very poignant dream, a visit to her home by her father. Kneeling by his bed, she wept about the bitter separation and she complained to him about her concern for the future. As she caressed the dying man, he comforted her: "My daughter, you're going to have hard times for a long time, but then it will go very well for you." My mother confided that this promise was like a star when darkness later surrounded their lives. Another appearance took place like this. It was in the guardroom of the replacement Regiment No. 61 in Bromberg. In evening silence my father was sitting smoking by the stove, and only now and then he heard the noise of his trump card-playing comrades. Then there was a knock at the door, as if someone wanted to come in, but no one seemed to call my father. After some time, the same process repeated, again unsuccessfully, for no visit occurred. When, for the third time he heard the pounding, my father quickly sprang to the door, but went he looked out, there was no one there. Only my father had heard that knock. Two days later he was in possession of the news that at that hour he had heard the knocking the grandfather Dumke had his closed his eyes. Superstition was alien to my father, but yet he retained a belief that the incident was somehow linked with the death of his father-in-law. In a short time a second life was lost. Weakened by the strain of the last few months, my mother gave birth shortly after the death of her father. But the little one died after two days, 37 and he was placed in the coffin of the grandfather, lying in his arm, and entrusted with him to the earth at the same time. The devotion that my mother had for her father later found expression in a monument that she had set in the churchyard of Prussian Friedland for the deceased. My father was in the service of his country for only a few months, as the deluge of the war that claimed so many victims, came to an end. Great peace and victory feasts were celebrated everywhere on German soil in town and country, and sent up the feelings of joyful gratitude for the guidance of human destiny. Thus came in April 1871 the return of my father, a dear picture that is the first ever memory of my life. At the Amine house window my mother sat, busy as always with knitting, and at her feet sat the long-awaited dapper sergeant. He was wrapped around her knees and spoke to her with tender words again and again about how pleased he was to be with her. But the harsh reality overshadowed the happiness of the reunion: it was time to create a new existence. The grandfather Dumke once had given a farmer Barts in Flatow two thousand dollars to buy a mill for his son-in-law. According to traditional custom, he had given the money without a certificate but only on a handshake that Barts would show his gratitude when the opportunity would arise. My father, who remembered this fact now hoped he be a miller at the mill of the son in law and came from Prussian-Friedland to him. Blankwieder was between Flatow and Krojanke. The round trip was a distance of nine miles. Since my father had no money to travel there, he walked in a pouring rain, and traveled back the same day. But he returned home without having achieved anything, because he had not gotten the job immediately, nor did it appear that there would be one. Upon further consideration and the advice of the relatives, my father finally decided to go to Berlin. The timing was propitious because it was the beginning of trade and commerce that rose to unexpected heights, and the possibility of secure advancement was offered to many thousands in residence. So my father hoped, there was an opportunity for him and his family's future to be found. In July of 1871 he traveled to Berlin. My mother had to leave the rooms in the Amine home, because her brother-in-law Alexander Boy sold the property, but she found a new shelter in two low parlor rooms of a half-timbered house (opposite the former home), where the policeman Adam lived and who later became a friend of my parents. It is here where I first remember events from my childhood, connecting people and events. I remember my first playmates, the fraternal siblings. We Siblings in Prussian Friedland My older brother Carl, who as has been said, was born on the mill property at Scheune near Stettin and developed into a strong, bright boy, who made it incredibly easy to raise high hopes. He was ahead of the rest of us not only in age, but also in his natural intelligence. This secured him the fraternal rule, which he understood and perceived with sensible dignity. That he was therefore usually responsible for the pranks of the younger ones, should not be surprising in that this is the usual way of growing up. 38 The brother, Gottwalt, who was born after me, was of great mental agility. Like Carl, he had a natural intelligence, but this was more in the form of mischievousness, when turning us one against the other. He was a master in distracting our attention in order to grab the pieces of meat, which rarely came as a delicacy on our plates. At Christmas in 1871, my father came from Berlin to Prussian-Friedland to spend the festival in the company of his own family. He brought us kids toy soldiers, and also for Carl and me each a picture book. For the two and a half year old Gottwalt, such a gift was not yet appropriate. Playfully he snatched my book, and said that he would put it in the fire in the stove, and then said with a satisfied smile: "Well, I have nothing, you have nothing." This is the first Christmas that I remember. Despite their plight, my parents had decorated a fir tree that chased the problems away for awhile with its bright lights, and the joy was also multiplied because of the presence of the long absent husband and father. In February 1872, the newly-born brother Ernst was in the cradle. Carl and I had to concentrate on letting the little one sleep. The following is a report of myself. I was born on the 9 December 1867 on the mill property of Friedland Prussia at a time when snow and frost were present in the world to welcome the Magi. According to former custom, babies were entrusted as soon as possible to the blessing hand of the church. I was taken when I was four days old to be baptized in the city despite the cold. I well was well protected by my Godmother Aunt Ida Boy who carried me in the folds of her cloak. Maybe the wintry chill had given me a cold, because I accompanied the final blessing of the pastor with sneezing three times at appropriate intermediate times. The "wise" women interpreted through this event that one day I would have property. This sort of notion was common in the areas where they inspired the wishes and hopes of a laborious working country people. I had flax-colored hair when young, and it could be seen from a distance. I only gradually got the dark hair color of my parents. When I was two and a half years old I got my first pants. They were my pride, but I enjoyed them only for a short time. One day I came too close to the kitchen fire, and the main part of the pants burned in the scorching flame. In its repair, patches were used in such abundance that it led others to call me the annoying name "the little shoe maker." My character was different than that of my siblings. I was less active than they were and thought more in a naive way about this and that. A tendency which is often referred to as reflection. This was accompanied by the desire to make things, such as natural or man-made, and to check out on their ultimate cause. Only this was usually quite impractical, because when I saw, for example, one day, that my father's pocket watch had stopped, I wanted to put a hammer to it to get it going. The location of the Adams's house, where my mother lived since the summer of 1871, gave the children the opportunity to play at the nearby market place. There, the playing was practiced by preference, in which a child was trying to catch the other. We ran between the houses to the old church at the center of the square, racing each other. One day I was run over and thankfully I escaped with life and limb. In the immediate vicinity of our house was a steep sloping path that led down to the city lake past the courthouse, it was a place of winter pleasures. We used solid planks to slide fast, and safely travel to the bottom. Another pleasure we called "flipping." We threw clumps of clay to the top of a willow as high as we could. Whoever was able to throw the highest and most lumps, became king. This significant rank was also given to one of us siblings that could undress himself the fastest at bedtime. My brother and I welcomed the festival of Easter in1872 finding the branch of the Easter birch at grandmother's 39 house. This custom was common in the eastern provinces as Easter morning risers were surprised with the merry pranks of those with a verdant birch branch. Lying in bed, individuals had to give the pranksters a gift and this usually consisted of eggs. With the meager resources that were available from the remittances from my father at this time, it was not easy for my mother to run the household as she had four young mouths to feed. But she often made it possible, as in later years, to manage with very little. We always were cleanly dressed, and on the wall in the hallway was a shelf lining up boots for our restless feet, whose tips were provided after the fashion of the place with brafs protection edges. On Sunday, my mother gladly went to church. Looking back, I can see her in the hoop skirt and colorful colored long scarf as she walks with reverent seriousness through the market place with that big song book in hand, disappearing into the house of God. On the whole, she kept up her pious trust in God all her life, in which she took comfort and strength in the difficult days of her life. At this point let me introduce a personality who was a member at the church in Friedland, the old servant Kopelke. This man was a widower, and he did not have to care for a family. But despite having enough money, he had a funny trait in his life. His favorite food was a thick pea slurry he cooked for himself year after year, making enough to store for a whole week. The solid slurry was wrapped in a paper bag and placed in his coat, and it gave the church man sustenance during his day's work, because regardless of the place or time he ate from his bag of pea slurry to give him strength for his work. The pea cooker compares to another city original: the former Lieutenant Picarde, who was friendly with a glass of alcohol, and proclaimed himself a man of war. His preparation for saying goodbye was comical in nature because before starting to leave he "strengthened himself." He got up and walked past his potion and stood some distance away and proclaimed his steadfastness. He then rewarded himself for this, turned back, and drank the glass of alcohol. The surging enthusiasm everywhere about the success of the German weaponry in the war against France also overtook us children. With fresh voices singing "The power on the Rhine", whose text we always limited only to a repetition of the verse: "Dear Fatherland, have no fear!" It gave us a lot of joy and the voice of the newly established country. "When the Prussians marched into France in 1870, Did Napoleum smear his boots with petroleum." In a homecoming, an infantry division, with music and flying banners, marched through the town in the early summer of 1871. We boys were quickly called to the place, and we followed the cheering hordes by the mill gate to the Dobriner Way. However, at the beginning of the war, opinions were divided about the prospects of victory, and there were many people who found it difficult to believe in a failure of the French armaments. The quarreling and debating had no end. Two citizens had the idea to replace the predictions with a symbolic example. A goldfish and a young pike were brought and placed together in a water vat. The goldfish was the Germans and the pike the French. It was expected that both would fight each other, and the outcome of the struggle would be important for the enemy nations. But see, none of the other fish did any harm, they swam peacefully around each other, and then there was nothing to the prediction of the outcome for the great nations. 40 Despite the loss of belongings, my parents had a quiet satisfaction because of their children, and they were filled with the hope of a speedy reunion. But fate tested them even more, even to the edge, because sickness and death left their devastating track. In the spring of 1872, my mother fell ill with smallpox, which took its toll. It threatened the entire area. Again, my mother saw the shadow of death, but she overcame this attack and rose eventually to recover from her deathbed. Fortunately, the disease did not leave even the slightest marks on her body. Soon after, epidemics attacked the area children, namely cerebral meningitis and scarlet fever in conjunction with diphtheria. The diseases invaded and destroyed those who looked forward to the future with their young eyes. In the few cases where a child won the battle with spinal meningitis, it left the child deaf and dumb. Also, in our home death struck, and we children were infected with scarlet fever and diphtheria, and all my siblings were snatched away. Ernst and Gottwalt in the same hour, and in a final flourish, Carl, five days later. I myself overcame the infection, but I had to suffer for years with dangerous side effects. Wrapped in a blanket, they carried me to my last farewell to the brothers as they slumbered peacefully in their small coffins. Already at the beginning of her illness my mother had moved with us children into the big house of our grandmother on the other side of town. There, my brothers died, and there my mother and I regained our health. Four strong boys, and I was the only one left, belongings were lost and the parents were separated: it was for my mother a terrible time. The deepened pain both parents experienced made them desire even more to be together soon. Since we were now only a few people, my parents were hoping to be able to find a suitable home in expensive Berlin, despite the low income that my father had at the time. Almost the only belongings my mother took with us were the nice beds, in the first days of September 1872. We met in Berlin at the east train station on Güstriner place. My father was waiting for us on the train platform. The long separation had made him a stranger to me, and the disease had robbed me of openness to others. Holding my hands behind me, I went back to the train station wall to avoid my father in childhood shyness. Deeply moved, the severely tested parents saw each again. My Parents in Berlin A decisive step was taken. Our family came from rural conditions in which by virtue of their descent and they started out at the bottom of the large city, and with the new location arose entirely different tasks and requirements for the younger generation. Friedrich Dumke, a previously mentioned cousin of my mother, had settled in a house at No. 24 Münzstrasse in Berlin after his marriage and established at the corner of Dragonerstrasse a small business. My mother and I initially stayed with him. My father in 1871 also had stayed with him a short time after his departure from Prussian-Friedland, and had then taken employment in the arts and entertainment district of Moabit. At this time there was a great population explosion in Berlin and there was a tremendous housing shortage. However, my parents soon succeeded in obtaining a residence at No. 18 Grenadierstrasse. This was on the third floor of a courtyard building, and consisted of a room, a chamber and a kitchen, and offered a view of a projecting roof to the courtyard. Narrow spiral stairs lead up to it. But despite the simplicity of the environment, my parents considered themselves happy in the knowledge that they lived together and possessed a home life. I myself did not mind the small kingdom, because it gave me an opportunity to play, and I often amused myself, sitting on the inclined roof, to send soap bubbles into the world. Also, I was attracted to the rain 41 gutters on the roof edge, walking out to the edge, for which of course my father registered his "strong" displeasure. Like in former times, my parents had both good and serious days granted to them in the new home. Thus a little sister (Luise) pleased us by her appearance, a healthy, happy child. But within eight months she died from convulsive teething, and again the hill of a young grave rose. By the end of 1872, we celebrated the first Christmas in Berlin and it was made special with a wooden gun and a hand crank box as gifts from my parents. In our building lived for a time the merchant Kuenzel, a sensitive young man and a pastor's son from Silesia, who spent time with me and often surprised me with gifts. I thanked him for his stimulation and instruction. My father also spent time with me in his free time, and several times we took little Sunday walks away from the city. We walked down the path through the Schönhauser to Lothringerstrasse, a path that quickly led to an open area, because immediately behind those roads were the distant village Pankow and Weissensee, and there were large open fields. Today it is where the Schönhauser Allee is filled with a maze of streets and houses. This was also where the lone "Windmühlenberg" was located with five busily clattering mills. This interested us most. Simultaneously a plethora of other images emerge, which take me back to that "old" Berlin, of which I received a strong, lasting impression despite my youth. Volatile and sometimes random selection are outlined here. A Look Back at the Old Berlin A long time ago the patriarchal simplicity and modesty has disappeared in Berlin, but this magic world city offers no substitute for the pleasures that then prepared us children of the yard and the quiet street. How happy and free we moved on them! The month of Pentecost came to the country, as shouts of cockchafers (June bugs), cockchafers, pieces of three needles, a cheaper price, which was based on the fact that every year a more plentiful abundance was in that exchange item! The first song I sang as a five year old referred to these cockchafers. Cockchafer fly, your father is at war; Your mother is in Pommerland, Pommerland is spent. Cockchafer fly. From pins we made a product of our own skill for fun, windmills made of folded paper being blown on wooden sticks in the wind. Sometimes we saw at our court the Savoyarden and their menacing dancing bears, or apes whose acrobatic jumps amused us. We looked at men through the mysterious eyeglass, and we devoutly listened to the sounds of barrel organs, which pleased the eyes at the same time with images and moving dolls. For the most part we had the bagpipers and those grotesque musicians, who with reed flute and timpani and bells and little ringing bells played their "court music." All these people came at their own expense, because the money rolled in and everyone gladly gave of their own profits. 42 Because the waves of joy still filled people over the three successful wars, it produced a confident lifestyle, which showed itself particularly in the carefree spending of money. Yes, even the simple craftsmen, bricklayers and carpenters, drove to work in closed cabs around the city, proud to be able to afford this. This was because their daily wages amounted to twenty to twenty-five Marks. At the same time I also often saw men, who actually carried the traces of battle as former warriors, particularly those with wooden legs and crippled arms, pale, and wearing the soldier caps on their heads. Next I will look and review a number of localities that have since disappeared, or have gone through fundamental changes and taken on a whole new look. Near our apartment lay Alexanderplatz, a remarkable traffic center. In place of the Berlin statue, it had a round fountain in the center, which provided a swimming pool for my young friends, and which today is near the police headquarters. Also, here stood the urban workhouse, an age grey building with latticed windows, to which the vernacular had lent the lovely designation ox head. The main artery flowed from the Königstrasse (King's highway), which was the pulse of the city, lively and strong. It led to the gloomy Königsgraben (King's ditch), which coming from the Stralauer bridge, is today the path of the railway leading to the Kleinen Präsidentenstrasse (Small President's Street) under the Hercules bridge into the river Spree. The Hercules bridge! How many times did I go to visit it and stand in awe before its wonderful fabled characters, and nearby was the famed Stempel shopping area, from where I picked up the coffee for my mother. On the way I came past small houses that were old and needed work, but yet they provided the people hospitable protection. Their basement entrances and front stairs opened to the sidewalk, and also the doors opened to the old emblems of the guilds: the key of the locksmith, the horseshoe of the blacksmith and the pretzel of the baker. Turning from Alexanderplatz onto Königsgraben there was a row of houses from the time of Frederick (1712-1786), among them was one where Lessing's Minna von Barnhelm was 43 written in 1765. Just down from there, where the Central Market Hall was located, was a wooden footbridge, the Kunowskzbrücke, that bridged the Königsgraben on the way to the new Friedrichstrasse. There, peeping from behind lilac bushes and beautiful green plants, was the cottage of the Roch family who was entitled to collect tolls, and their representative energetically collected the copper charge from the window. At the time of our old Emperor William, the passage through the courtyard of the Royal Palace to the Lustgarten was free, and I often went that way through the silently defiant walls. On both sites rose, at the start of Advent, stalls of the Christmas market, that dear old Christmas market, to which even the former members of the Royal House descended the stairs. How modest were the treasures which it presented! There drummed on the horsehair thread the woodland devil, its bass was drowned out by the blaring light of the six guns. In a colorful group three sheep, jumping jacks and the recommended "Berlin jokers." In the tent were the sounds of a harmonica and a toy trumpet, and there emerged the aroma of freshly baked lard cakes. In other areas were piled high mountains of flour cookies and "Naute," gingerbread and sugar hearts, of apples and silver plated nuts! All these glories framed the stalls of the Christmas pyramids and the fir trees, and of dancing snowflakes playing. Especially at night we kids marveled at the beauty. Who suspects today, what a wealth of poetry and modesty, of cheerfulness and genuine delight were hidden in the airy and fun area of the city, which was located at the venerable castle. I think back, and instinctively, my lips inwardly repeat, the intimate, homey song, "Oh you joyful, Oh you blessed, You grace-bringing Christmas time!" To the left from our home the way led to Hirtenstrasse and the so-called Scheunenviertel (barn area), a tangle of old, narrow streets, which are now gone and have given way to the Bülowplatz area. Near the center of that area at the corner of Hirten (Shepherd) and the Kleinen Alexanderstrasse (Little Alexander Street) was a simple, serious schoolhouse, the city school where I received the first lessons. Just moments from this and our apartment was where Kaiser Wilhelm Strasse intersected the Münzstrasse, lay the beautiful Victoria Theatre where operas and films were so well received. I imagined those glories through the announcements at the entrance of the theater, the "Journey Around the World in Eighty Days," "The Children of Captain Grant" and others in large letters. Gradually through thrift my parents succeeded in better establishing themselves and to better their situation little by little, and my father received a more lucrative position as foreman in the factory Harbarth, who was, if I'm not mistaken, a distant relative from the West Prussian homeland. As the workplace was far away at No. 3 Dresdener Strasse at Cottbus, we moved to the Reichenbergerstrasse No. 162 to be closer. But it was not a happy place because of the high rent, and we lived there only three quarters of a year. Then we moved in April 1876 to Adalbertstrasse No. 72 - later renumbered 86. It was a small but comfortable home on the first floor of the front building. From it we could see the ABC Protector, a higher boys' school, which was housed in a separate side building in the courtyard across from us. That place of knowledge led to the goal of a one-year certification, and was the property of our new landlord, Louis Herbst. Soon I was added as one of his pupils. Near our apartment on the Mariannenplatz were streets that had areas that were covered with sod and therefore were suitable for playing games, especially for hunting a large variety of butterflies that flew there in large quantities. Often I would go that way to my father's workplace near Cottbus place. Between Cottbuser and the Admiralstrasse, there stood under 44 the trees a low old country house, the restaurant "Zur Linde," whose garden was a paradise for the middle class. In this whole area the street traffic was quite light and we could even identify the daytime trains, ringing and wheezing with a great effort as they transported coal from the Görlitz train station past Skalistzer road to the gasworks on Gitschiner street. Sometimes a train would stop on the tracks, and so we boys in an act of courage, climbed over the coupling of train cars. Down from the Cottbus Place near Cottbus Street and Admiral Street, the road was nearly undeveloped, and only a solitary house stood here and there. Also, on Gitschiner street in the area of the Halle Gate and Belle Alliance Street up to Tempelhof fields were lightly settled. Even the current horticultural gardens at Victoria Park at Kreuzberg at that time were nothing but desolate, barren sand hills, intersected with some canyon-like depressions. Near the present Memorial Bridge, was the "Lehmkute," a public house from the pre-march period, a place to have an excellent wheat beer (Cool Blonde). It overlooked the Tivoli Restaurant, which was dominated by freedom battle memorial at Tempelhof field, and was an inviting place for a drink under the trees. Today it is the garden serving the Schultheiss brewery. Now the walk went to the nearby Hasenheide Park, the last remnants of the distinguished Brandenburg beauty on the outskirts of the city. Here the nature-loving middle class spent Sunday with the kids. How often did they ask the stunted pines, the painfully poignant question: Who made you, you beautiful forest, Mounted together up there so high? And what a mess at her feet! Attracted by the Sunday filling of the Jewish purses, merchants came near to gather the shoppers in screaming auctions. The gigantic gingerbread was raffled by lot. A married couple serving as street minstrels played on a lyre telling the myth of a "chilling ballad," explaining the song with childlike grotesque images. Freely accessible from all sides, the heath surrounded the Jahn playground, who was the father of gymnastics. It served a green pathway to wander with one another to Castle Mountain Brewery, later the New World in Nixdorf (Neukölln). As we go over the Berlin side of the road, we see a long row of beer and coffee gardens, situated behind hedges in rural simplicity, and one is reminded of the well-known verses: The old tradition is not broken; Families can make coffee. Graceful manners did not flourish there, but people probably joked and were in foul moods. Far removed from school musical accompaniment, was a swift carousel, with its popping dynamometer making sounds like rifles on the shooting ranges. There were sausages and dice playing booths, tents with jugglers and fire eaters, and sea monsters and all the wonders that a respective fair visitor's heart would want. Also there were dance halls in abundance. “Accelerated by flattering ways, pairs danced in the round,” the cooks with their Sundays treasures, the naive blond infantryman. In addition one sang the songs of the “Kanapee” and “At the Green Shoreline of the Spree.” 45 In the Gratweilschen restaurant, the present Union Brewery, males and females rattled on roller skates on an asphalt track, the Skating Rink. Temporarily then came into fashion the roller skates with cumbersome simple tools, and after 30 years later went back to the graceful form of the sport today. Soon after, naturalized fast running, a movement that united the best runners in competition took place on the track of the small garden of Gratweilschen, and on weekdays it drew the young and many friendships developed. On weekdays the wealthier citizens went to the Hasenheide. Their goal was the Cafe Heine at the corner of Fichtestrasse, an old pub with a garden restaurant, which retained its popularity into the first decade of this century. Two very popular entertainment gardens were on the edge of today's Kaiser-Friedrich-Platz: the Heidereiter and the Kellers Hofjäger. There were beautiful children's parties especially in the latter, which delighted the kids with parades on harvest wagons, with dancing and sweet falling rain, torchlight processions and chants. An important role was given here to the puppets of the puppet theaters. Artists, of which Linde was an almost celebrated size. The first question of his puppets to the children gathered was: "Are you all here?" The answer was a confident loud "Yes!" After that another question: "Have you any money?" a hundred-voices: "No!" The puppets then promptly said: "Out!" The current strict access to the military shooting ranges in the port Heath was then not in place, and we often ran as unsuspecting boys on the ramparts back and forth with great energy chasing our ball. Finally, one thinks of the picturesque guard house that was a neighbor of the Hofjägers. It housed the post for guarding military installations. As in ancient times, in the evening the guard house lowered a barrier over the undulating sand path, which today is the Lehniner and Siboldstrasse. The text of the popular waltz from the "Green Shore of the River Spree" was not wrong, because the banks of the Spree and the canals were in large part unregulated, and invading the shallow water was actually a lush lawn. Also, access to the water was free almost everywhere, so we boys had the opportunity to play in nature, in the grass and reeds, and with water beetles and snails. In the winter, we loved the solid ice, as we slid from shore to shore in rows, and even timidly ventured out as skaters. What a pleasure it was for us when father once took a winter walk with me and the four year old brother Fritz and took us near the present urban port across the crystal cover of the Landwehr Canal. And how afterwards we tasted the steaming coffee that we were received from our mother! Also in the area of the zoo, the Spree did not flow in a straight line, and because of that it looked more beautiful than today. In addition, among the tents cavorted numerous rowing boats. Gondolas and tour boats were on the water with a concert of barrel organs. This gave a picture of cheerfulness and cordiality, which now we probably search for in vain. However, the streams did not have those monumental stone bridges, which are so common now in the city. On the Spree there were almost entirely hewn wood bridges with folding sections that had to be pulled out when a barge when through the passage. This old Berlin, much of which is not evident today, influenced my childhood and youth. So much appears to me as strange in review. The canvas tents of a weekly market were erected on the quiet, sandy Dönhoffplatz. From the Spittelmarkt one could see the age-old church, the Getraudtenkapelle. Often I stopped at its wooden door to view the dim interior. 46 Upon entering the Dönhoff place in the Leipziger Strasse, where today there is the older part of the Tietzschen department store, was the comfortable middle class "Concert House," where the conductors Bilse and Mender swung their white canes. It was very popular, and a respectful and appreciative audience filled the hall every night. It also served another very helpful cause, because the Concert House was the most reasonable and reliable place for weddings in Berlin. We turn back to the Spittelmarkt and come on the narrow Gertraudtenstrasse to the Mühlendamm. Here decrepit, deteriorating little houses stretch over to the whey market, with its useless semicircular canals and dark grounds, a forgotten piece of the Middle Ages. From this basic cell, from which gradually developed today's Berlin, a city of the margraves with millions of inhabitants and the Kaiser's residence. Near here lived the Jewish shopkeepers and the dawdlers, of which was sung in the vernacular: On the mill dam A man sits with a sponge ... Behind the tree lined streets lay the urban mills. Here the view of the Spree was that of fishery plants and the ancient working places of the dyers, who put their materials out on crooked wood galleries for drying. Here also was the old Köln city hall, which was at the intersection of Scharren and Gertraudtenstrasse, over-looking the quiet and serious fish market. The details of this building are stamped into my memory because this is where I began in the year 1888 my position as student of the Berlin municipal government. I received here my first lessons in bureaucratic wisdom as a trainee, in the room where once the meetings of the City Council had convened. At the Molkenmarkt beyond the Mühlendamms was the weathered cluster of buildings of the police headquarters, the former city bailiwick. From here it was a few steps to the city hall on Königstraße and to the new market, where the resplendent tower of Sankt Marien reached upward. Near this church with its incredible crucifix, was a ring of houses, where a narrow lane to Königstraße was left empty because of the king's wall that was despised by the inhabitants. On the way over the fishermen and the island bridge one came to the Cöpenicker Road, and then along to the Silesian Gate. Here still stood another remnant of an old city wall with the low gate where the guard tower stood. It now was a tavern that eked out its existence from the cab drivers drinking its “zweeter Jüte." We continued to go past Sachses Wellenbad with its artificial waves into the Silesian forest and from it through wild forest areas to Treptow. It was a tiny community, because from forest and green meadows appeared only a few moss-covered little houses with small gardens. It was so secluded that I gladly made a Sunday's walk here with companions. Treptow was considered far from Berlin, as well as the other suburbs Schöneberg and Wilmersdorf, Lichtenberg and Rummelsburg. All these villages offered their attraction to happy nature walkers who wanted to be "in the country." Yes, even the wealthiest families went there to spend the summer months quietly and happily in low farmer rooms and simple gazebo. I went to each of these places once, with school friends or with parents, who made it possible to travel there by Kremser (gate car) for a few pennies. 47 There was also Stralau, the quiet fishing village on the River Spree. In midsummer, old and young streamed out to its folk festival, the Stralauer catch, to taste the national dish of eel, cucumber and wheat beer and to be part of a large swarm of people. New Year's Eve here in Berlin was almost like a carnival because to get a real fish course one needed a fake nose and glasses of window glass. Only once did I see this hilarity. It has gradually faded from existence, and is now probably gone forever. About 1882, a school trip led me to Tegel, where reeds and forest stood, and with its ancient house and its memories, the great Humboldt radiated its own charm. Later a horse-drawn tram made it easier to get there. We also went to Pankow and Niederschonhausen. The former was particularly favored by adult dancers, and on Schönhauser Avenue the Puhlmann restaurant, which was very popular for many decades, was located. As the most beautiful, but also the furthest hiking destination, was Grunewald. After all this time, there were not as many houses as in Berlin and Charlottenburg, and the forest was far away in lonely silence, an idyllic, undeveloped area without noisy people. So I went here on a Sunday visit. Youthful enthusiasm in the heart, we went to the Schildhornhalbinsel where there is a monument with the alleged shields of the slavic Jaczo. (Since then, the column was replaced by a larger new one). We traveled back to Berlin. In my childhood, it was still a quiet town with a rather leisurely lifestyle. It did not have the roaring and raging, with the din and noise of today's metropolitan city. Its oldest part gave the impression of provincial backwardness. Its cobblestone streets were irregular and angular between the houses, but it was mostly airy and light in mood. And where was the sewer? Until approximately the late seventies gutters ran continuously along the sides of the streets collecting the wastewater from the houses in a turbid river. It ran to a former fortification ditch, black and green, a twisting moat inside the city, and ending near the museum peninsula in the river Spree. The ditch and gutters did not only make one hold one's nose, but they also affected the traffic, because the gutters to the house entrances were covered with planks, which helped transition from the pavement to the road embankment. When the water was dammed by thunderstorms, the wide planks were washed away. Otherwise they served as a place for us children to play the popular Brückmänneken game, so named after the bridge watchman who tried to catch the crossing companions. Not only through games, but also in other ways, useful and useless, was our youthful courage and agility expended, especially in the yard of Adalbert Street No. 86 on the gymnastic equipment that belonged to and that was maintained by the Herbst school. It provided us boys an opportunity for athletics and fun when we were out of school almost on a daily basis. There was also a wall next to the adjoining properties, near the Naunyn and Oranienstrasse, with gardens in the yards. There were grapes, and visits there were often not restricted to platonic flirtation with the sour, but so good tasting fruit. Spring and summer lured us after the winter captivity to play outside on the yard and the road. Speed was practiced in a game of tag, marbles were played with small stone balls, and the trieseln, which with the impact of primitive whip wood gyroscopes were set in motion. Later on the clear-fresh days September appeared the paper dragons, products of our own talent, as we let them easily climb in flight over the Tempelhofer field. 48 That field stood in the heart of Berlin, as it was the place for the brilliant military parades that were held in spring and autumn reviewed by the top military officers. There, glittered, sparkled and flashed from helmets, swords and rifles, from saddlery, medal chains and cannons. And in the midst of the radiating sea were the Emperor and his retinue of enthusiastic ladies, Crown Prince, Prince Frederick Charles, the field marshal Molike and all the victorious commanders of the last war. Yes, it was a time filled with great men and impressions, and I like to return to the images that have stayed with me from those years. Like the magnificent illuminations on the occasion of the Three Emperors' meeting on 5 September, 1872. It was to me, a young newcomer to Berlin, something incomprehensible. I was almost scared when my father led me through the mass crowds to the brightly illuminated town hall on Königstrasse. Many times, I saw such a spectacle, because also on the anniversary of the Battle of Sedan and the birthdays of the ancient sovereigns were celebrated with festive lighting. For the birthdays also came the princes of many countries to give their congratulations, and receptions with their courtly splendor reached across the road to the reverently awaiting crowd. Even the young from Berlin came at their own costs, because there was no school and they came to Linden and positioned themselves to view the historic corner window of the Imperial Palace, and to march together with the marching commands of the guard. I also let the magnificent images of the ramps and the sight of the representatives of the great men of the time affect me. I saw one famous person, the popular Field Marshal "Papa" Wrangel, in the summer of 1876 on Dranienstrasse. While he trotted along side the car, the Count tossed some copper coins among the swarming youth as was his custom. I saw another great man eleven years later: Bismarck, the Iron Chancellor of the Empire, when he left his palace. From under the cuirassier helmet one could see the large eyes of the powerful man before whom all the states of Europe bowed. Much activity ensued when the Crown Prince or the most revered old Emperor showed up! Enthusiasm and cheering arose along the streets ... Hail to you, Emperor! I was fortunate to see those world-historical heroes and receive a greeting from them a few times. But it was a painful day, on 9 March, when the German Kaiser (Wilhelm I, 22 March 1797 – 9 March 1888) breathed his last breath, and a world stopped in mourning. Laid out in the apse of the cathedral, the deceased received his homage from the nation and every day thousands welled in deep devotion to pass his coffin. Continuously, day and night, they flooded the area of the Linden and the Palace Square, just to get a glance of the face of the noble, highly revered one. I myself stood in the Palace Square since early in the morning and was finally wedged in the crowd between the castle and the old row of houses on the river Spree, and this limited my ability to move forward. I waited for nine hours, but I was not able to get into the cathedral. However, I was on the Linden witnessing the overwhelming funeral procession in moving the sleeping one from Royal Cathedral to the Charlottenburg Mausoleum. Endlessly, the procession moved to the sounds of Chopin's funeral march through the veil wrapped Brandenburg Gate, where the inscription reads: Vale senex imperator! (Hail to the Emperor!). Walking, firm and pale, Crown Prince Wilhelm, was representing the Emperor, because at that 49 time Emperor Frederick was gravely ill in the southern part of the county. It was a very hard winter, and the formations of soldiers on the Charlottenburger Way suffered severely from the cold, and many of them had to be taken away on horses. But as serious and cold as that day was, it brought me a joyful surprise. I arrived at home frozen and hungry, and my mother handed me an official letter: my summoning as supernumerary by the Berlin municipal authorities. It had arrived just a short time before. There are many more memories that I could relate about the old Berlin and a period that changed so many things, but let me get back to my relationship with my parents. To the Goals The year 1876 had a special meaning for our family: my parents added the last branch to their family as my brother was born. Our lives were closely linked because we shared the good and bad days and the joy and suffering. On 30 August during a school break, my father called me into the house and introduced me to Fritz, whom the stork had just brought. Delighted, I looked at the small one, but when I wanted to kiss him, he moved away from me with tremendous screaming and fidgeting. At this time my mother was struck with child bed fever, and only after a fight lasting for weeks did she recover despite the lack of suitable care. Only I, a young kid, was available to care for the newborn child (I was nine years old). A few years later my father came down with a fever and measles, and was in great danger because of his age. Finally, however, my parents learned from this and bought life insurance. Regardless of her weakness and physical delicacy, my mother always strove to wisely use the earnings of the father through strict budgeting, and in order to put savings aside. Because of this I was expected to watch over my brother and to help with the domestic work. I loved to read and draw, but I had little spare time because I had to watch little Fritz. In October 1879, my parents gave up their home at Adalbertstrasse No. 72, and obtained a more suitable place on the first floor of a house at Adalbertstrasse No. 2. Here lived with us a high school teacher at the Andreas Gymnasium, Doctor Bethke, a handsome man who had acquired the Iron Cross during the war of 1870/71 as an artillery officer and still held the rank of lieutenant in the Premier Reserve. We admired him because of the knowledge that he shared, and he and my father had a habit on Sunday mornings to chat an hour while smoking a cigar. We were very saddened, when Bethke, who had fallen into a dispute with a supervisor, shot himself in frustration because of unfair treatment. 50 In those years my mother had to survive a life-threatening surgery, yet they were still determined to make a large purchase. Through hard work and thrift, my parents had the sum of twelve hundred dollars in hand. To supplement my father's income, my mother decided in the autumn of 1882 to establish a small business at Stallschreiberstrasse No. 47 selling "oil, lights and soap." In a short time they developed it so that it produced a considerable profit. Business was especially brisk before the holidays and I gladly took the opportunity to help my mother more than usual. Many a night we worked in the small shop and prepared customers' orders. A rewarding but difficult task was made even more difficult because my mother was physically weak and she caught a cold several times so severely that she had high fevers. But even on those days, although she could barely walk due to weakness, she showed an amazing drive. She went to her business and performed all the duties of the business without any outside help, and only for short periods did she occasionally sit down on her chair in the yard. As the year 1888 approached, my mother had saved seven thousand dollars. However, her health had so deteriorated that she had to sell her business the fall of that year at the insistence of her doctor. My father still remained at Harbarth, who had moved his factory to Skalitzer Road No. 142 on private property. Now we lived for a year, from October 1888 to 1889, at Cottbus Road No. 3. But accustomed to working and striving, my mother would not accept doing nothing and having the family rely solely on the income of the father. Their goal was a source of income from which they could benefit and make for more carefree living in their later years. So the parents bought an income producing property. It was the time when a glorious change raised the simple Prussian capital Berlin to the rank of a world city. The alleys and lanes and the old-fashioned houses where the forefathers lived, faded away. Then, the old white beer pub was replaced to make room for Bräu place, with its bars and cafes with music. The telephone became common and the electric lamp, the tram and the big business houses with their thousands became normal. The suburbs of Berlin, formerly small country villages, grew to become proud municipalities, and became part of the city in their tasks and purposes. Those early years were long gone when you could quickly purchase land with few resources and receive high gains. But after searching and negotiating, my parents managed to find a house that met their needs at the corner of Sebastian Street No. 53 and No. 64 Alexandrinenstrasse. It was an older house, as many are today in Berlin, and they bought it in July 1889 from the cloth manufacturer Reinhold Wolff for the price of 171,000 Marks. My mother understood that the acquisition was at a reasonable price and that they could gradually generate a good net income. For a long time it was more than 6000 marks per year. With the beginning of the summer my father gave up his position at Harbarth and took over on 1 August the management of the property that remained in his possession for two decades. On 1 October 1889 we moved to the new home. My parents were delighted that they were now again on their own property. Through thrift, perseverance, intelligence and honesty they had finally battled back their way to success. 51 Certainly, my parents did not forget the past worries, sorrow, and suffering that would make the hearts of other people tremble. But that was far in the past, and had brought them nothing but shocks and disasters, as again and again the question of fate entered their lives. There were still many difficulties to be overcome, pertaining to the development of the house and the mortgage, but then they also disappeared, and prosperity gradually returned to our home. It strengthened our confidence in the future of our family and allowed a modest quiet enjoyment of life. Hours of socializing came as dear friends were sitting at our table, where my mother always received warranted attention and praise, and provided excellent conversation. As a former holder of the green cloth, my father joined the "Association of Former Fighters of the German Army" in the winter of 1884. He was very loyal to this club and he was a welcome member. He was especially happy when my brother Fritz and I accompanied him to the club activities, and we enjoyed their well-organized festivals, including the annual club recognition meeting. Since my mother was allowed to leave the house only on warm days because of her asthma, she liked to look from the window at the bustle of the street, and her favorite place was at the right window of the living room. Here she could view an elm whose branches stretched from the house to the sidewalk, and here she occasionally sang in a low voice one of those dear old songs from her girlhood: "Tired Returns a Wanderer Back," "Beautiful Is the Youth, It Comes No More" and others. But I never saw my mother idle. Even in moments of relaxation, she at least did handiwork, and only when she became weak in recent years, did she lie down for a short rest on the sofa. Because of her desire to work and be active, even though the economic situation allowed it, she never let herself be assisted by someone else: but only my father assisted her. It was a happy time when the parents took care of the household and we grown sons participated as we were able. All the paperwork fell on me, and my mother used to say jokingly, for such work I should consider myself her secretary. But unfortunately my mother could not ignore the signs of her deteriorating health. Especially during the change of seasons she suffered breathing difficulties, and finally she had to struggle with bouts of heart weakness. Convinced that death would come quickly to her, she had everything well-ordered, even her blouse, stockings and a slim white skirt hanging in the closet. Since in winter she had to give up going to church, she read the Bible and the hymnbook at home. But during the mild summer days she was strong enough to go outside. To promote their health, the parents sometimes took up a summer residence near Berlin, at Woltersdorfer Schleufe and Fichtenau near Rahnsdorf. The strengthening desire for the forest and the distance from the big city noise always created a good rest. It cleared and refreshed my mother as she returned to the urban home in the fall. My brother Fritz and I also went there for most of Sunday to be with our parents and did not return to Berlin until Monday morning. Like all the big city apartment buildings, it also caused a lot of work and complaints, particularly when the frustration with tenants and contractors increased. But there were also days of rest and internal collection. Nearby the bells of the Luisenstadt church rang their melody and the church was filled with the pious for serious devotion at festivals. How nice it was for Christmas! Early on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, Fritz and I returned home from work, and in a festive mood, the final preparations were made for the coming 52 hours. Then we went with our father to the Christmas service, which was celebrated with the glorious uplifting of the Christmas tree in our dear old church. My mother remained inside due the winter cold, and while at home she prepared food and drink and made everything pleasant. Fritz then played the piano, we shared gifts, and the glimmer of a fir tree adorned the corner room of our apartment and sent its resinous fragrance in all the rooms. We were all together, and while outside the snowflakes danced, we listened to our father, who told of his life, of his parents' house and the distant days of his childhood. Home of our parents, a stronghold of comfort and confidence, how much love have you given us boys. We sat warmly in you, even as we already had for a long time become fledglings! At Easter our mother never neglected to give us a stern message as a gift. A few days before her death came at the dawn of Easter morning, she came to Fritz and me. She said to us: This is the last time. You are old enough to get married. Next year you will be alone with your father. With her life-long partner, she looked back to the far-off time of common struggles and worries, and with him they had the desire to once again see their sites even in old age and to set foot on native soil. To fulfill the desire, the parents made a trip in the summer of 1901 to West Prussia. Unfortunately, my mother declared that she would never go back to Prussian Friedland again. It happened as she said. The last important task she had was to settle the mortgage on our house, which expired on the first of April 1903. Then came a cold spring that led to her last sickbed. As she left to care for and support a sick old tenant, she already had the fever of pneumonia, the deadly rhyme to which she would succumb in five days, on Saturday the 25th April 1903, six-thirty in the evening, as she slumbered gently into eternity. Many people followed her coffin when she was buried in peace on 29 April at the old Luisenstadtkirch cemetery on Bergmannstrasse. We remember the poignant sermon of Pastor Knauert of the Luisenstadtkirche, whom we personally knew. Here, an appropriate gift was given to my mother: the fulfillment of a desire she often expressed. It was a beautiful sunny spring day, the birds were singing, and trees and shrubs were showing their first green buds. The grave is located in the third row on the second avenue side. By her side was his place, which at the same time my father chose for himself. A granite obelisk stands at the head of the silent place, and as suffering and burden had not prevailed against the faith of our parents, we gave them the inscription of Sirach 51, verse 35 [27]: "I've had a little time, effort and work and have found great solace." My mother had the build of fine and medium-sized woman, who enjoyed in later years a certain plumpness. In this she resembled her own deceased mother, and she also inherited from her the dark brown eyes and dark hair, which remained in its original beautiful color and fullness to death. My mother was a wise and strong-willed woman who found satisfaction only in work. With an aversion to idleness she had a deep dislike for the comfort of those groups of many women who visited over coffee and conversed about vain and petty things. Her principle was "work and do not despair," and thus she steered the ship of our family safely through all perils. 53 Mature in life and suffering, she was averse to conflict. She stood firm only in a legitimate defense. Nevertheless, she suffered many wrongs, when according to the laws of nature she expected love. After the death of my mother, the household had to be entrusted to outside female help. Their help assisted my father who was overwhelmed with the economic affairs of the household. But he still worked in the affairs of property and in the welfare of the joint household. He alone was now our head, and our love and concern were solely for him. My father appreciated a vigorous walk, and it was his desire almost daily to go with me to the Luisenstadt cemetery to our mother's grave. All those hours were filled with chatter, and especially they were about the past and the fate of our family problems. Moreover, my father was an early riser with great interest and understanding of weather prediction. This is explained by his original profession: for the city dwellers the weather is just a question of greater or less convenience, but it is the question of life for farmers and millers. My father was never political, but as a former soldier and a son of a rural family, he was deeply loyal to the king and therefore a member of that party. For several years we saw with growing concern my father dealing with the same ailments which my mother had fought: asthma and symptoms of hardening of the arteries. To mitigate this, we went in the summers of 1907 and 1908 to the Bavarian mountains, for the use of wholesome baths in Tolz. With good results, my revitalized father returned to Berlin. Later, he liked to tell of all the beauty that he saw on those trips from Munich and Schliersee, from Wackersberg and of his climb to the incomparable Zwiesel. Soon after, it was the fulfillment of a long-held desire: he welcomed the entry of a daughter-inlaw, my Lisa, into our family. Also, in the following year, 1909, we were travel companions, and we opted for the small and intimate Bad Steben in Frankenwalde. At the same time, we also wanted to give my young wife her privacy, as we looked forward to the arrival of a sprout. It was in the autumn of the same year. His age and the stress of being a homeowner had increased my father's desire to be free from his property, all the more so because the house was outdated and was beginning to deteriorate. He therefore sold it 1 October to the merchant S. Deutsch, who acquired it for the price of 182,500 marks. Although the profit was not large, it was enough to allow my father now to live entirely on his pension. My brother Fritz worked towards a military supply certificate since 1895 at various bureaus and was eventually hired in Lichtenberg near Berlin as an assistant magistrate in a Bureau. After my father sold his property, he and my brother in September 1909 moved to Lichtenberg to the house at Normannenstrasse No. 20. He was obligated to transfer his residence to the place of employment. Here we joyfully celebrated on 30 January 1910 our father's birthday and the completion of his seventieth year. His joy was increased by the presence of the little grandson Hans-Joachim. At that time, however, my father began to fail because all the struggles in his life had weakened him and he approached the end of his life. Moreover, my brother fell ill. Hostility from coworkers and severe management affected him so that he had to take a long treatment in a sanatorium. When this happened, the apartment was swapped with another one at Weichselstrasse No. 14 (Lichtenberg) in September 1911. This was the last one that my father lived in before his induction into the eternal dwellings. 54 In search of relief for his bad heart, in the summer of 1912 I went with him to Silesia in the spa Rudowa. But the results did not last, because the heart and respiratory problems soon became problematic again. When my brother, in the beginning of October, went to stay after a short recovery in the suburb Tichtenau, my father stayed in my and my Lisa's household for that time. He was happy that on the beautiful warm autumn days he could go from our apartment to the nearby Luisenstadt cemetery to visit the grave of our mother. But every day he had agonizing attacks of breathlessness. In one of them, the last, his heart failed and it stopped forever. It was on 12 October 1912, on Saturday evening at 10:15. He knew that he was near his end, and my father died in my arms and followed his beloved wife, our mother, into eternity. He also died as a devout Christian with the name of God on the lips. On Wednesday afternoon we carried him to his partner after a farewell service, which was consecrated by the beautiful, dignified words of Pastor Thiessen of the Luisenstadt church. To honor their brother, the eldest of the family, came from afar the siblings Ernst, August, and Marie. In a show of friendship many representatives of the veteran's association and fighters from the wars of 1866 and 1870/71 accompanied the coffin. Above the tomb was the green silk cloth of the flag, which my father himself followed so often. The last time was two weeks before his death at the funeral of the old comrade Loth. Then they took the water taxi over to the Hasenheide, where a last toast was raised to the "equestrian Heath", dedicated to honoring the memory of our good one. Receive him, Lord, in grace The brave comrade -Now he went to rest. And we, companions of his youth, Included in the old loyalty Close the lid of his coffin. Cheer to quiet, your brothers! Also, we are weary and tired -Until it reached us. Look forward to the blooming spring -He overcomes his wreaths ... Maybe the next for me. As a long-time resident, where he achieved his advancement and possessions, my father wished to die in Berlin. That came to pass, for in the immediate vicinity of his faithful companion, he breathed his last. The official departure from Lichtenberg back to the domestic capital as a citizen was made before his going to the tomb. Still another wish needed to be put in order: from the time of the campaigns my father possessed military decorations, which he tended to put on at festive occasions. They were now orphans. In order to secure for them a worthy place, we gave them for safekeeping to the Luisenstadtkirche on the Sebastianstrasse, where my father always felt deeply moved. There they hang together with other witnesses of a large martial time "To honor the dead The survivors learning." 55 Like my grandfather, my father was of medium size (1.65 m). At a later age he showed his muscular build and compact form. Over gray brown eyes was a large forehead, which made appear serious and melancholic. My father had a gregarious nature, inclined to entertainment and chat. To his pedantic ancestors he owed an organized mind and the joy of learning through good books. His rural ancestry accounted for an enthusiastic affection for nature. Behind the simplicity and modesty of his nature were the characteristics of a brave character that was free of falsehood and conceit. As carrier of the Boy family blood, he possessed considerable thriftiness, but unfortunately he had to put up with another maternal inheritance, a slight excitability, which occasionally left him off balance. What he lacked in self-determination and ability was supplemented by the wisdom and powerful features of his companion, our mother. As they supplemented and encouraged each other, they both loved each other until death. Rest gently you good and splendid parents! We sons think back in love and with grateful hearts of you. Your education and guidance and your painstaking care did everything for our good. For you held your hand over us, if our foot stumbled, and encouraged us, if we were on right way. How great was the bitter lot you tasted. How much misunderstanding did you have to go through in order to walk upward! Your life should have always been carefree and richer in joy as your earned! But you fought a good honest fight. May the Lord God reward you in eternity, for what you worked for in the temporal! His peace be with you! 56 The Sixth Generation "Just the thought is yours, not the output." (Shakespeare) As we saw earlier, of all the siblings that fate gave to me, only the last-born, youngest brother Fritz remained. I am intimately connected with the events of his life and share with him in both the good and bad times. And the bad times were many! On 1 April 1877, Fritz was baptized in St.Thomas church, and he then attended Luisenstadt secondary school, in order to become a merchant after his confirmation. At age eighteen, in October 1894, he entered into military service, as a volunteer in the third battery of the guard field artillery regiment No. 2, whose home was the old Frederick barracks in Kupfergraben. But after barely four months of service, he had an accident and was injured by the kick of a horse above the left eye on the forehead and as a result he became an invalid. He was given a military pension and through the civil service bill he received the opportunity like me to pursue civil service, a career that promised better progress than the eventful career of a merchant. He was first active in various public authorities at different places. Finally, he was employed since January 1901 at the Office of Management in the Lichtenberg Bureau as an assistant and then becoming a senior assistant magistrate in the city. He demonstrated conscientiousness and good writing in his new profession, but he desired and was better suited for a position in administrative field services rather than working with the pen. Fond of music, Fritz liked playing the piano, and his enjoyment of nature led him on beautiful and instructive trips. So he went through some German provinces, and yes, even in the summer of 1905, he travelled to the shores of the Mediterranean. Fritz was a very kindhearted and open person, but his sensitivity often led to difficulties and created enmity and misjudging. With a stately body stature, which towers above our older family members, Fritz originally was a happy person. But obnoxiousness, fights and spitefulness for many years in his last managerial position made him gradually depressed and finally affected his health in such a way that it was acknowledged by the service and on 1 March 1913 he received a pension. It would be presumptuous to make myself the subject of extensive coverage, but in the context of this chronicle, I will briefly report in broad outlines my own experiences. In appearance and attitude I am like my father, and I feel I also have some of his inner qualities, especially in my strong emotions and communicating, and the propensity for intuition and experience. An overwhelming enjoyment of nature leads me to hiking and going out into the countryside and meeting people much like my ancestors, and I prefer the simplicity of rural conditions such as coarse food and simple living and thinking. I have an interest in the performing arts, drawing and painting. As a grandson, I inherited thriftiness, but unfortunately also great soft-heartedness. Different from that of my parents, outwardly my life has been free of vicissitudes and misfortunes. But that is only external, for it also has not been easy. There were excitements and disappointments, and hurts and internal struggles. I will not go into them. But in whatever 57 happened, I kept my ideals and always strove for the possession of a right attitude. Do others recognize this? We know: "Everyone sees what you seem to be, Few know who you are." My youth coincided with the loss of my parent's possessions and the struggle for survival, and they therefore thought that I would share in the concerns and help in their work. Because my mother was ailing constantly, and my father absorbed in work, I helped to provide assistance in raising the younger brother and assisted my mother in her work. How often have I sighed as a boy, if only I had less of a burden and would be able to run free and happy like my playmates. It was not easy at the time, since we had our business on Stallschreiberstrasse and my mother often lying ill from disease. At that time, I assisted with the income by providing education to younger students, so I tutored the brothers Emil and Albert van Asten for six years until their second level. My parents were strict with my education. I felt the rough hand of my father if obedience or childlike insight failed. As already reported, in the years 1876 to 1878 I was a pupil at the Herbst boys school at Adalbertstrasse No. 72. On the Feast of St. Michael in 1878, I entered the Luisenstädt vocational school (upper six-form high school), an institute providing free tuition and a better educational background, and I was happy to achieve at the highest level through great diligence, while other schoolmates advanced more easily. I still like to remember that time, and also the teachers, from whom I learned science, most of whom have already been silenced forever. Thus, the mathematics professor Heyden, the sharp thinker who sat for hours with us students in class excursions to a meadow or the like, and who taught us to solve math problems in our heads. Furthermore, Professor Reinhardt, a chemist and physicist whose always safe experiments and analyzes always excited our admiration. There was Privy Councillor Lampe, an eminent mathematician and scholar with an all-round education, who afterwards held a professorship at the Technical University of Charlottenburg. Professor Gerberding, the Ordinary of the Prima, taught us religion in German and French. He was extremely mentally sharp and eloquent, and he made us fearful with his demands, especially in the German essay. But I felt a lot of joy in learning from the art teacher Dworzazek, for he was an academic painter, who taught by word and example, and was excellent in promoting our drawing skills and our love of art. With deep reverence I remember finally our warden, Privy Director Bandow. Friendly and liberal in his views, he was a good teacher, a teacher who reached the hearts of youth. It was he who gave my life direction, for through his recommendations and personal intercession he encouraged me to go into municipal service, a career that has given me status and income, supply and safety. As far as words can express, may they also witness to the intimate gratitude that I hold for the good and noble man forever. Diseases in childhood had threatened me repeatedly with death, and I came twice into immediate danger as a student with the possible loss of life. First, on 2 September 1884 at the great railway disaster in Steglitz in Berlin. My parents and brother Fritz were also there, and the arriving train almost hit us, but we were lucky that the train derailed the other way. There were forty-two dead and more than a hundred seriously injured lay on the platform. In its details it was a terrible, unforgettable sight. Note that the Steglitz disaster gave rise to the subsequent tunneling at stations, which at that time nowhere existed. 58 Two years later, on an autumn afternoon in 1886, I walked by the old industrial buildings on Kommandanten Street, a group of ostentatious buildings whose roofs were decorated with meter high zinc towers. A violent storm raged that day and made it difficult to continue. Suddenly one of the towers broke loose, and it fell from above almost grazing my body, and with a great noise fell directly in front of me on the sidewalk. My last days on earth were not yet counted on this day in May. The Easter of the year 1884 saw me confirmed. Together with my class friend Richard Rogge (today's Prince Court Secretary of State in Berlin), I confessed my Protestant faith on 23 March before the Head of the Consistorial Council Noel, the top clergyman in our Luisenstadt church. As a son-in-law of the superintendent Hetzel, he was related by marriage to my head master Professor Bandow, who likewise was married to a Hetzel daughter in his first marriage. This was followed by my Secunda and Prima years (the second and first or highest class of a first grade secondary school). This time gave me the tools for my life and led me to the officer profession. I started this on 3 April 1888, immediately after the Easter holidays, first as a student of the municipal authorities supernumerary. I then transferred to the school office of the "old Ranzau" to receive my first training in records by Secretary Mannlich, an old original citizen of Berlin, who told funny jokes and used hilarious phrases. His work requirements were not heavy. He usually seasoned it with a glass of beer from the “privy councilor tavern” on nearby Scharren Street. He then added another activity which he call "badgers," which actually meant sleeping. Later for training in cash management, I was assigned to the main foundation fund. Here I became friends with the six years older secretary Gustav Schroeder, a highly educated man, skilled in writing and speech, and a man who soon became a welcome guest in my parents' house. As travel companions in the years 1897 and 1899 we cavorted in the waves of the East and the North Sea, and even today, with our wives, we see each other in our own homes. After another half year, I came to the United Bureau in April 1889, an administrative body which was headed by the highly talented and skillful manager Arendt, and where I became acquainted with the nature of official correspondence. Arendt was also the treasurer of St. George Church in Berlin and enjoyed an adjusted income in that position. He was accused and found guilty of widespread embezzlement of church funds and he was released from his duties and spent years in prison. My last training was in writing and calculations that I learned in the Financial Bureau, and then I moved to the Salary Bureau and took over the independent Cost Recovery Bureau and soon transferred to the Income Tax Bureau. I remained there for two years until 1 October 1892, the beginning of my military service. The Income Tax Bureau records required much work, and the highest standards for its officials. At that time tax reforms were instituted by Finance Minister Miquel, which required changes in the Bureau and its business procedures. Every day I worked late into the evening, and I did not give up the usual teaching and helping my father in the home as a craftsman. Since I was also preparing for the secretary examination, I studied at night, and often I did not get any sleep. By September 1892, I took the significant test on which my job and future life depended. This was done over four days and ended with the oral exam on 29 September, under the auspices of 59 Mayor Zelle, who was incidentally chosen that afternoon by the city council for the office of the mayor. With a commendation from the lips of the mayor, I left the exam room and received the congratulations of my parents, who had come to meet me at city hall. I made a serious effort, which sometimes strained me financially, to keep my contacts with dear friends from my school days, and many times we sat together to debate social and scientific issues. They and some others were guests in our home, especially when the modest celebration of my birthday brought us together. Top in all knowledge was Paul Nantke, who came from humble circumstances, and who today is an university professor in architecture. Then Wilhelm Kletke, a good reasonable human being, whom we admired in all of our classes from Sexta through Prima (the six levels in a high level secondary school), but unfortunately he succumbed to heart disease many years later. In a neighboring house on the Stallschreiber Street lived Alfred Hellmuth, a highly qualified painter. I thank him for some suggestions and instructions for painting and for the wonderful hours visiting with this debonair young university graduate. I also found like-minded friends among the colleagues in my office, and our interactions were useful and enjoyable. Thus, the diligent and industrious Dr. Deichen, was my successor in the school deputation, but unfortunately he left his native capital to run the City Council in the administration of the city of Danzig. Then there were Sassnick, Lehmann and Dr. Crasselt. With the latter, I only knew him in my traveling years, but we agreed on the views of life, and we often walked far and near on Sundays and we jointly looked forward to a lively exchange of ideas in the beautiful nature. Today Crasselt is a busy lawyer in Charlottenburg. In the summer of 1889, my parents had bought the house at Sebastian Road No. 64. To assist in the task of putting it into good condition and to improve the mortgage, I shared most of my income with the parents, and from the little that remained I covered my need for clothes and books, as well as the cost of my military equipment. Two days after my exam on 1 October 1892, I was wearing the King's uniform. I did not want to serve in a regiment too far way because I wanted to be close to my parents. I chose the Brandenburg Infantry Regiment No. 64 (Prince Frederick Charles of Prussia ) in Prenzlau and Angermuende. I was a soldier with passion and enthusiasm. Any kind of physical exercise was easy for me, and soon it became evident that I was good shot with a rifle. As a result, the strands of a second shooting award adorn my sleeve. I also had the pleasure of being on the only float trip of the battalion, because rarely a soldier came to the "ride," since it demanded a smooth swimming performance of five quarter hours. As a result, I enjoyed good training in the swimming honored institution of General von Pfuel on Cöpenicker street in Berlin, in the barracks of the Guards pioneers. Popular because of their traditional customs, the institution saw the students of higher educational institutions, the learned, and older officers seeking the mastery of the water. I found in Angermuende a simple but friendly room in the house of artist and gardener Muchow on Schwedter gate, across my barracks. It was at the end of the city, surrounded by gardens, that the house also had a view of the small parade ground of our battalion, the dreaded "grindstone." When my mother was ill in June 1893, she came to my home for some time, and was cared for by the woman Muchow. She soon recovered in the fresh air and friendly environment. Even 60 my captain, who had heard of her, inquired after her health and conveyed his greetings and best wishes through me. The captain, Giessner by name, was a just but strict commander who put high demands on the one-year volunteers. These, he said, would have to learn as much as other soldiers in their three years of service. No less were the demands of my platoon commander, Lieutenant von Woedtke. I thanked both officers for the benefits of a thorough education that prepared me for the service at the front. There were two of my comrades, whom I served with and dealt with daily: Ramdor and Dr. Sommerfeld. The latter, a chemist by profession, was a tremendously dramatic storyteller, funny and quick-witted, he always knew how to improve "mood", but unfortunately he lacked the sincerity of character. In Ramdor we admired a language genius, who at the age of twentyfour years had a command at that time of eight languages, spoken and written. Later he moved to distant countries, even as far as China, but he finally matured and became refined and took a professorship at the University of Palermo and found a home. The maneuvers in the summer of 1893, took me to the eastern and northern part of Uckermark and into the Pomeranian Randow, i.e., the home of my father. Oddly enough, it was even in the immediate vicinity of Penkun and Krackow where the oldest ancestors of our family, of which I reported earlier, had lived. That is precisely the same route, that my father maneuvered thirty-one years earlier in the summer of 1862 as a member of the Pomeranian Jaeger Battalion of Greifswald. During the year of service, only Ramdor and I were promoted. I was promoted in October 1893, when I was ready to leave the battalion, as a sergeant with the qualification of a reserve officer. Because my school annuals mentioned simply the position of my father, it was, however, not a simple matter to obtain the promotion. I did not want to become a reserve officer later, but I wanted to achieve it in that year, which was possible under the existing provisions. With regret, I took off the uniform to return, after a period of healthy outdoor exercise in the metropolis, to the "service desk" at my office, the Berlin municipal authorities. I was immediately hired on as Secretary for Lifetime, with my seniority backdated to 1 July 1892, the starting date of my peers who did not become soldiers. Now I received the proud salary of nineteen hundred Marks, which permitted me to put larger savings aside. Apart from the payment which I paid to my parents regularly for food and accommodation, I soon had the amount which my parents had advanced to me during the military service. Yes, after years of living with my parents, I wanted my own home, and I was pleased to have saved fifteen thousand Marks. On Monday the 2nd October 1893, I joined the accounting branch of the Directorate, a department that completely met my interests, and in which I remain through various transformations up to today. After spending time in salary administration in the (red) town hall, I moved into the newly completed office building on the Mühlendamm, and then later, in November 1908, I moved to the area of the former Ephraim's palace at the corner of Post Street. 61 At that time the accounting department was headed by the old bureau chief Deutloff, a very imaginative man whose stylistic clarity and exactness filled me with respect. I saw many colleagues come and go over the years: good and faithful people, but also selfish and hypocritical ones and those who found satisfaction in shop talk and petty gossip. So it will always be. My active duty in the military service was not yet completed because I still needed to complete two eight-week exercises in the reserve. So I went in the spring of 1894 to the Infantry Regiment No. 37 in Krotoschin, and in the months of May and June of 1896 to the Infantry Regiment No. 14 in Graudenz. Here I was able to connect and spend friendly hours with city councilman Tettenborn, who formerly worked in the office of the Berlin municipal authorities, and with whom I had previously been on good terms. I left as a sergeant of the reserve troops, and voluntarily renounced my continuation as an officer cadet. I was happy to have served as a soldier, and it was a positive time that inspired me, but I did not have the sufficient desire which is required of those wearing the officer's uniform. After military service, began those years in which I did not need to strive for position and my future, so I was able to devote some of my time engaging in hobbies. I subscribed for several summers to the already mentioned Pfuel swimming pool, meeting with a number of acquaintances I passed the time in swimming, diving and all sorts of artful jumps. Even in winter I used to exercise, and I did gymnastics in the third division of the gymnastic community in Berlin, in the gymnasium of a local school on Long Street. Later I went over to the club for physical exercise, which was held evenings in the hall of the Luisen high school gymnasium on Wilsnacker Street, but then I severely sprained my right hand, and I had to refrain from further gymnastic exercise. However, I continued painting and drawing, especially watercolors and sketches with chalk and pen. There were so many images that could be used as wall decorations, and even portraits of my family members. Unfortunately, most of them are in the possession of others and strangers. Starting in 1899, I attended lectures in the winter months at the University of Humboldt Academy, from which I drew wonderful instruction, and was enriched in so many ways. I also read good books, and gradually I was able to create a selective, rather than extensive, collection of books. Although I found reading pleasurable, I had little interest in card games such as Skat, and the like. It seemed like a waste of time to me. With joy I waited for the summer months, when I had my vacation from service, and because then I went traveling and hiking. In the winter I already developed a plan for then, and in preparation I brought out the tools of the rambler with backpack and stick, “where over rivers, lakes, land the sky its dome stretches.” So I viewed the beautiful German fatherland with its cities, cliffs and seas, the Alps of Tyrol and Bavaria, and Switzerland with its meadows and beautiful lakes. Twice I traveled to the golden shores of the Mediterranean. In the summer of 1904, I went to Italy and across to Tunis 62 and the ruins of ancient Carthage. I saw the eternal Rome with its hills and buildings, the Forum, the Christian catacombs and the vast shimmering dome of St. Peter's Cathedral. The Tiber was followed by the azure Capri grotto and the beautiful Naples Gulf. From the gloomy Pompeii, I climbed into the crater of Vesuvius, and finally was enveloped by the beauty of the sun-drenched Riviera. Two years later, my brother Fritz joined me. From Switzerland we first took the route via Genoa to Ajaccio, the home of the terrible Bonaparte. Then we went on clear blue waves continuing to Algiers and Tangier. The port was still free from the Empire of Morocco. What a strange world opened up to us there! Reluctantly we left there on a steamship to the Rock of Gibraltar, studded with its cannons, and then to the poetical Hilpanien. After driving through the Sierra Nevada, we reached the picturesque Granada and its shining tower, that sublime monument of Arab architecture, the half thousand year old Alhambra. These were the days of my life. With the few resources that I spent, I received pleasure and instruction, and they still light up my memory as a beautiful rainbow that stretches far and wide to me even now. I move ahead several years. Being with my parents and brother Fritz, I was not without family life, so I had not taken the initiative to marry and to found a home of my own. In 1903 my mother died. Some time passed, and with it, I approached the end of my 30s. Even my father was older, and he thought that with the sale of our house, Fritz and I would be lonely. This finally encouraged me to seek a girlfriend to call my own. Through kind fate, I found her in Elisabeth Conrad, a good-hearted girl to whom I was attracted. She was the daughter of the former chancellery advisor Adolf Conrad, of the General Royal Order Commission in Berlin. On 16 September 1907, we saw each other for the first time at the art exhibition at the Lehrter station, which Lisa visited with her parents. Attracted by her friendly-natural nature, after that I often took the opportunity to meet her in the company of her parents. Then I also made home visits accompanied by my father, and finally I asked her to tie the knot on 24 May 1908. At that time Lisa's parents moved from St. Paul Street No. 12 to an apartment at Paul Street No. 20, and here on the first day of Whitsun we celebrated our engagement in the presence of our mutual members and relatives. I became part of a family whose members are devoted to sincerely loving each other, and operating in a quiet, friendly manner. Her character is thanks to her father, a prudent man who seldom is unhappy, and is undemanding for himself, but is always concerned about the welfare of others. Quiet and firm in word and deed, he has a distinct sense of duty, the type of the old Prussian officials, and also like them in outward appearance, because he still has the customary beard with shaven chin just like at the time of the old emperor. Lisa's mother, a spry woman with a lively interest in the things of the world, has a happy nature, is kind and also strives to promote her loved ones. Similar to my origins, Lisa's parents families, whose cradle stood far away from the residence on rural ground: and of them I will report the following few words. The Conrad and Schliewe Families The grandfather of my father-in-law, Adolf Conrad, who still called himself in the native dialect Kunert and Cunart, was a lease miller in the Silesian Hansdorf (Kreis Sagan). At the 63 time of the war of liberation, he gave up milling, in order to acquire in the neighboring Zeissau a small farm. When, at the age of fifty-three years, he followed his wife, née Wende, to rest, the property went to his son Gottlob. However, after only a few years in 1836, Gottlob swapped for another farm in Liebsen, near the Brandenburg Lusatia. Here Gottlob expanded his activities to weaving, and expanded with tenacious diligence, and he improved his land on the property. He died on 28 February 1885 at the age of seventy-five years, five days after the passing of his wife Marie, born Heinze. His marriage produced the daughter, Beate, and the sons Edward, Julius and Adolf. As the eldest, Edward took over the business, but he was less inclined than his father to run a farm, and he later sold parts of the property and eventually sold all of it. While the sister Beate remained unmarried, the brothers formed their own families in their home area where they still live today. They all wore with honor the King's uniform and took part in the battles of the great war. They acquired the position of civil supply officers. Julius and Adolf even became military professionals. Today, Julius lives on a pension earned as a railway cashier in Essen on the Ruhr. Adolf came into the world as the youngest of the brothers and sister on 16 February 1846 in Liebsen, and in the quiet of the home village he grew up as child of nature. Peaceful at home, nevertheless he took part gladly in the usual pupil fights of the older and younger school classes, as if it were in preparation for his future profession as a soldier. Already as a boy, he showed a preference for farming and gladly looked for the opportunity to go behind the plow and harrow of his father. At seventeen years old he left these, in order to follow his brother Julius to the non-commissioned-officer school in Jülich. From there he, as a youth, joined on 1 June 1866 the second guard regiment of Berlin. He soon became acquainted with seriousness of the war effort. On the 14th of the same month, he already marched with his regiment into the Austrian campaign. After the engagements of Burkersdorf and Königinhof, he then went to the large decisive battle at Königgrätz. He survived every battle. Almost worse than the gunfire was the bread shortage and the exhaustive heat, particularly in Königinhof, where they had a heavy fight in the hot sun going through stubborn corn fields. Like 1866, Adolf Conrad was available in 1870 to march with the outbreak of the war with France. But the young non-commissioned-officer Neske, who was to stay with the replacement battalion, in the enthusiasm of war wanted to fight the enemy. Instead now Conrad had to remain behind. It was probably to his benefit: because directly in the first combat Neske was hit in the head with a bullet and fell, possibly by the bullet destined for Conrad. After coming home with the regiment, Conrad became the budgetary sergeant of the second company. Already, after four years he could muster out, in order to enter a favorable calling in civil service. At age twenty-one, he met in 1867 his future wife, Berta Schliewe, who at that time had come from her home in West Prussia to Berlin. As the mother of my wife and as a member of the family that I am close to through my marriage, I also want to add a few words about her. Berta Schliewe was born on 14 August 1840 in Zastrow, West Prussia, a place which was near the birth town and home of my own mother in an adjacent county. Her father Ferdinand 64 Schliewe had originally forfeited his property by marriage, the inheritance to Alt-Körnitz, and had finally served as administrator of the manor Bärenwalde. After troubles and worries he died, highly respected and esteemed in his profession, in 1875 in Zawada, West Prussia. His wife, Henriette, was of strong character, an educated woman, a woman who did the best for the prosperity of their children. For years they lived near Prussian-Friedland, that very town, which has become known to us as the town of my parents and friends. Here in my place of birth, the children grew up, and Berta Schliewe even knew my mother, who was still with her first husband Aminde's hearth and home at that time. Berta grew up in the Schliewe house with three siblings, one sister and two brothers. Also, with them was the stepsister Marie, who was the oldest of all, and came from a first marriage of the mother. While Marie married the distillery inspector Klawonn, the younger Mathilden remained unmarried, and after a number of years she followed the sister Berta and helped in their house. Then there were the brothers Ernst and Hermann. Facing ambitious and high goals, they went the route Adolf Conrad had taken, with voluntary military service and to the position of an official. Even as young soldiers in 1866 they fought in the Austrian war, and when they returned from the years 1870/71, both carried the highest recognition award for soldiers, the Iron Cross. Even after their military service, the brothers remained in the royal service. And Ernst in a green shirt was an assistant for the Prussian customs authority until he left several years ago to retire, and as a widower followed his son Oscar to Munich. Hermann, the youngest of the siblings, is particularly pleased at the success of his vocational calling. Proficient in his office and a highly respected man, he became the Bureau Chief of the General Staff and thus wears the Prussian officer's uniform with the rank of Major. From him we turn back to Adolf Conrad and his fiancée Berta Schliewe. Through a long courtship, they both preserved their fidelity to each other. Only when he received a higher income, when he became a sergeant in 1872, allowed them to marry. As the bride's mother was no longer alive, they received merely the paternal blessing for the wedding and the small festival of commitment was in the house of her step-sister Marie Klawonn in Woltersdorf, West Prussia. Soon three more years were over, and Adolf Conrad was no longer tied to the military profession, and already in February 1875, he left the troops and immediately joined in the service of the Bureau General Order Commission. Here he became over the years the department head of the financial council, a title, to which he could add "Secret" since April, 1913. To the young couple a first child was born, the son Alfred, while they were still in their military home in the barracks of the second guard regiment on Friedrichstraße. The father wanted Alfred also to go into official service. He was educated in the training course of a secondary school. He acquired the position of a district court secretary, and as such he works presently in the courts of Sommerfeld on the Mark. 65 Alfred was followed by the younger Max, a smart, sensible child, who succumbed at the age of five years to diphtheria. To him and his brother Alfred, a girl finally joined them: Elisabeth, who today takes the road of life with me. Born on 20 August 1879 at Paulstrasse No. 5, she grew up as a happy young girl and was the sunshine of the household. She was sheltered from evil by her parents love, and she did not learn the struggles and worries of a severe life. Early on she had blond hair with a superabundance of ringed curls, while petite and quiet of nature. At their home at Rathenower Street No. 88, the parents were neighbors for a year to the barracks of the fourth Regiment Guards. In the morning the music of the soldiers caught the attention of the little Lisa and she liked to watch when she got out of bed, going to the window and viewing the source of the music. She happily went to the private school of the headmaster de Mugica (Wilsnacker Street), and in the winter, with snow on the streets, she loved it when the maid appeared with the nimble ski carriage to take the little one home. It is no wonder that the kindness of the parents was repaid with her filial devotion, which she so faithfully expressed in times of peril. When the father took a rudder ride in the summer of 1894 with Lisa and an old gentleman to the Baltic Sea bath Dievenow, they were surprised by a storm and waves that put the three in high risk. So Lisa was to remain in the village Hendebrink until the storms subsided. But she refused and said that she wanted to remain with her father. If we go under, I want to die together with him! This beautiful love of a child she showed often to relatives in days of illness or misadventure and comforted them. In fixed faithfulness, she has the quiet ability, in joy and sorrow, to keep an even disposition, and even on the darkest of days she maintains her kindness. So I got to know my Lisa, and she gave me her hand to walk on my side. The time of our engagement, which extended over the summer of 1908, we dedicated to the errands and purchases for the coming marriage, which we celebrated on our wedding day on Thursday the 22nd October 1908. By the way, a member of the Hohenzollerns, the popular Prince August Wilhelm, also married in Berlin on this day. My brother Fritz and uncle Hermann Schliewe were witnesses at the registry office No. 12! We were married at the legal ceremony, and in the afternoon we went to the church at the altar of St. John at Alt-Moabit. We asked pastor Knauert of the Luisenstadt church to render his professional services, and he used Goethe's words "Calm Sea and Prosperous Voyage" as his basis. Not only was his speech wonderful, but the sacred hour was beautified with the singing and violin playing of some artistic friends. Among the guests, the uniforms of Uncle Hermann Schliewe and his sons, the military vets Gerlach and Dorst, especially stood out. They were spirited and eloquent, and headed a beautiful celebration in the rooms of the Berlin Ressource, Dranienburger Street No. 18. 66 Our home was located on the fourth floor of the house at Kaiser-Friedrich-Platz No. 2 and the corner of the tree lined Gneisenaustrasse. Well chosen, it met all of our needs, because the location gave us the opportunity to check out my father on Sebastian Street, as well as the inlaws in Moabit, which we could easily reach by bus and the electric tram. In addition, its three rooms face the square and the streets and give us a wide view of the Evangelical Garrison Church and the surrounding promenades and the well known Luisenstadt cemetery. So we can see the lawn and trees, the coming and going of the seasons, and we are delighted with this substitute for rural nature, as is to be rarely found in major cities, especially the gigantic Berlin. The generosity of Lisa's parents made our home beautiful and comfortable, and made the love and care of my Lisa pleasant, as it should be: a place of peace and confidence above all doubts and all misunderstanding. It was also a place of hospitality. A common circle of acquaintances loved to come and visit, visits on birthdays and other family celebrations, which my father also would attend. In the first year of our marriage, in the summer 1909, we went for a few weeks to that small bath in Steben, which was already mentioned earlier, in the Bavarian Frankenwalde. Together with my father, who followed us, we spent happy days under the roof of our landlord, the hereditary farmer Wolfrum, on the Hämplahöhe. After those days, followed some heavy, moving hours, because soon after the return from Steben, 13 August 1909, Lisa gave birth to a child. It was Hans-Joachim, the youngest of our family who appeared late in the evening to us. In the morning of that day, mother Conrad came as a nurse, and in her hands, the young mother gradually overcame the aftermath of pain and danger. Also, Hans-Joachim enjoyed her care, and he happily and forcefully waved his hands and feet, but he refused the milk bottle. Because apparently he desired a living source, we had no choice but to find a nurse, the petite Thuringian Auguste Hoeche. We live in the age of fast events. What our parents and ancestors had not seen, has shown itself to young people in the shortest time: the flying man. On Sunday, the 29th August 1909, 67 appeared to the cheers of all Berlin for the first time with his dirigible, Graf Zeppelin, the aged inventor. After he circled over the Tempelhof field in homage to the German Emperor, he also circled in a nice bow over our Garrison church, and so from the nursery my Lisa could also see him. In the summer of the following year, there was an event whose sighting is not granted to every man, the appearance of Halley's Comet. We saw the star in the evening twilight over the house at Gneisenaustrasse. It will not return to the earth until it completes its journey in a long seventy-five years. What family members will then be alive? Will our Hans-Joachim witness its recurrence, or perhaps even younger family members will lift their eyes to it? Want a benevolent providence that we were able to see it once! On Sunday, the 12th December 1909, a small train moved from our house over to the Garrison church, where Division Pastor Mueller called our child to the community of evangelical Christians and baptized him Carl Adolf Hans-Joachim. As usual, the two grandfathers gave their name to him, and it was also true that one of our direct ancestors named Carl, was now represented in six generations of the family. Also, duties as sponsors were shared by close relatives: my brother Fritz and my brother-in-law Alfred Conrad, as well as Uncle Hermann Schliewe and Aunt Pauline Knoblauch. The baby rested in the arms of the latter while being baptized, as the holy water of the baptismal font was sprinkled on the forehead. It seems that Hans-Joachim stands under the sign of the traveling star, even before he came into the world. So in the summer of 1910, he took part in our trip to Sulza in Thuringia, a journey in which he acquired the dignity of the "annuals" and simultaneously the ability of an independent vision. On the way back from Bade Rissingen, Lisa's parents joined us in Sulza. We therefore had the opportunity on 13 and 14 August to celebrate the first birthday of the grandson and the grandmother's seventieth birthday. Alternating with the mountains, we went the following summer of 1911 to the beach on the Baltic Sea in the pretty Zinnowitz, because this time we wanted to let our boy get the benefit of sea air. Soon after that began a long period of events. My brother became sick, and the discomfort of my father gradually increased. I took advantage of a holiday in 1912 with my father - as previously reported - going to the hearth bath Kudowa. In order to promote the travels of Hans-Joachim, my Lisa went with him, accompanied by a friend (Anny Ludwig) to the North Sea resort Wyk. This was followed by an even more difficult time, because my brother did not recover, and the iron will of fate took our father from us. Like so many other shocks in my life, they greatly influenced me. I gradually went into deep thought and felt a deep seriousness. Despite the adversities, I found real satisfaction, especially in the beauty of nature, and in the bosom of domesticity at the side of my dear wife and child, and in the usual work on the tasks of my profession. Also, for me there was an important place: the cemetery of the Luisenstadt congregation with its beautiful installations and the numerous old trees. It is very close to our home, and we can see it from there and are a few steps from our beloved parents, who are there in an eternal sleep. Then it draws me to quiet contemplation and introspection, and to remember the days when we were happy together. We are but a short distance form our beloved Garrison church, that house of God, which is stretched up to the sky, and can be seen from our window. I sit here often with my Lisa when the polyphonic singing of the earthly warrior resounds in praise of the Lord. 68 To us fate has led up to this point. For years we have been able to participate in the blessings of peace in our country, a peace, however, that was threatened by powerful envious enemies many times before, and its continued existence seems hardly safe. Only under its wing my parents were able to struggle against deep distress and to purchase a new property, which they have now placed in the hands of their sons. Our task is to consolidate this, and with it the possession of inner values also entitling us to existence. We also saw with my parents, with even the best intentions of fighting fate, the results were those fate decided. It is this will that we need to be aware of: "Life is a post which the Lord gives us, and we must stand until he dismisses us." Looking back, I see in the distance my youth sinking, but while I still receive their greetings, already around me plays my son, Hans-Joachim. He grows, cheerful and lively, a child of the city, with a view of the world in an environment that is completely different from that of our rural ancestors. This for me raises the doubt whether this world is better and the development of our boys better. Unfortunately, it is clear that the urban youth lacks in natural learning opportunities, and is inclined more to detrimental development than the rural development. I would therefore like Hans-Joachim to experience more than one culture and promote it so that he is physically up to the task of life. May Providence, in whose hands we all are, make him a carrier of good qualities, then, to the extent possible, may his parents' love point him to the right goals. But we who unite in our common love of a child, give us the strength to fulfill this obligation and grow with him up to the time that we grow old and see ourselves replaced by a younger son of a good character. Be it permitted for us to share with him: ... at his world of May Up around us, the flower falls, Up around us roams the fog And we are the frosted head. 69 Glossary Geographic Areas (Many of the localities mentioned in this work are no longer part of Germany today, but were ceded to Poland after World War II. For these localities, the original Prussian location is listed first, and it is followed by the name and location in Poland today. The format of the Prussian names is Locality, Kreis or County, Province, Country.) Aalgraben, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Wegornik, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Angermünde, Uckermark, Brandenburg, Germany Bad Kudowa, Glatz, Silesia, Prussia (Kudowa Zdroj, Dolnoslaskie, Poland) Bad Steben (Steben), Hof, Oberfranken, Bayern, Germany Bad Sulza, Weimarer-Land, Thüringen, Germany Bärenwalde, Schlochau, West Prussia, Prussia -- Bincze, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Berlin -- First documented in the 13th century, Berlin was the capital of the Kingdom of Prussia (1701–1918), the German Empire (1871–1918), the Weimar Republic (1919–33) and the Third Reich (1933–45). In 1740, Frederick II, known as Frederick the Great (1740–1786), came to power. Under the rule of Frederick II, Berlin became a center of the Enlightenment. Following France's victory in the War of the Fourth Coalition, Napoleon Bonaparte marched into Berlin in 1806, but granted self-government to the city. In 1815, the city became part of the new Province of Brandenburg. The Industrial Revolution transformed Berlin during the 19th century; the city's economy and population expanded dramatically, and it became the main rail hub and economic center of Germany. Additional suburbs soon developed and increased the area and population of Berlin. In 1861, neighboring suburbs including Wedding, Moabit, and several others were incorporated into Berlin. In 1871, Berlin became capital of the newly founded German Empire. On 1 April 1881, it became a city district separate from Brandenburg. Böck, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Buk, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Brandenburg -- In late medieval and early modern times, Brandenburg was one of seven electoral states of the Holy Roman Empire, and, along with Prussia, formed the original core of the German Empire, the first unified German state. Governed by the Hohenzollern dynasty from 1415, it contained the future German capital Berlin. After 1618 the Margraviate of Brandenburg and the Duchy of Prussia were combined to form Brandenburg-Prussia, which was ruled by the same branch of the House of Hohenzollern. In 1701 the state was elevated as the Kingdom of Prussia. Franconian Nuremberg and Ansbach, Swabian Hohenzollern, the eastern European connections of Berlin, and the status of Brandenburg's ruler as prince-elector together were instrumental in the rise of that state. When Prussia was subdivided into provinces in 1815, the territory of the Margraviate of Brandenburg became the Province of Brandenburg. In 1881, the City of Berlin was separated from the Province of Brandenburg. Today it is one of the sixteen federal-states of Germany. It lies in the east of the country and is 70 one of the federal states that was re-created in 1990 upon the reunification of the former West Germany and East Germany. Brandenburg surrounds but does not include the national capital and city-state Berlin. The eastern third of historic Brandenburg (Ostbrandenburg/Neumark) was ceded to Poland in 1945. Brandenburg Gate -- Carl Gotthard Langhans planned and built the Brandenburg Gate in the years 1789 to 1791 basing its style on the Propylea entrance to Athen's Acropolis. It is a former city gate, rebuilt in the late 18th century as a neoclassical triumphal arch, and now one of the most well-known landmarks of Germany. Bromberg, Bromberg, Posen, Prussia -- Bydgoszcz, Kujawsko-Pomorskie, Poland Brunn, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Redlica, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Dievenow, Cammin, Pomerania, Prussia -- Dziwnow, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Dobrin, Flatow, West Prussia, Prussia -- Derzno Wies, Wielkopolskie, Poland East Prussia -- The Province of East Prussia (German: Ostpreußen) was a province of Prussia from 1773–1829 and 1878–1945. Composed of the historical region East Prussia, the province's capital was Königsberg (Kaliningrad). Flatow, Flatow, West Prussia, Prussia -- Zlotow, Wielkopolskie, Poland Gramzow, Uckermark, Prussia -- Gramzow, Uckermark, Brandenburg, Germany Graudenz, Graudenz, West Prussia, Prussia -- Grudziadz, Kujawsko-Pomorskie, Poland Greifswald, Greifswald, Pomerania, Prussia -- Greifswald, Vorpommern-Greifswald, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Germany Groß Küssow, Pyritz, Pomerania, Prussia (Koszewo, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland) Grünhof, Schlochau, West Prussia, Prussia -- Pomorskie, Poland Gümnitz, Ueckermünde, Pomerania, Prussia -- Gümnitz, Eggesin, Am Stettiner Haff, Vorpommern-Greifswald, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Germany Güstow, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Ustowo, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Hammelstall, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Owczary, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Hansdorf, Sagan, Silesia, Prussia -- Jankow Zaganska, Lubuskie, Poland Jülich, Nordrhein-Westfalen, Germany Klein Reinkendorf, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Warzymice, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Kloxin, Pyritz, Pomerania, Prussia (Klodzino, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland) 71 Klücken, Pyritz, Pomerania, Prussia (Kluki, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland) Kolow, Greifenhagen, Pomerania, Prussia -- Kolowo, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Krackow, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Krackow, Vorpommern-Greifswald, MecklenburgVorpommern, Germany Krojanke, Flatow, West Prussia, Prussia -- Krajenka, Wielkopolskie, Poland Krotoschin, Löbau, West Prussia, Prussia -- Krotoszyny, Warminsko-Mazurskie, Poland Küssow, see Groß Küssow Lichtenberg -- The historic village of Lichtenberg, today also called Alt-Lichtenberg, was founded about 1230, due to the German colonization of the territory of Barnim. The village came to be a residential area and a suburb of Berlin from the mid 19th century on. A new town hall was erected in 1898 and in 1907 Lichtenberg received town privileges. Originally an independent city, it became part of Berlin in 1920 in the Greater Berlin Act. Liebsen, Sagan, Silesia, Prussia -- Lubieszow, Lubuskie, Poland Luisenhof, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Plochocin, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Luisenstadt -- It is a former quarter of central Berlin, now divided between the present localities of Mitte and Kreuzberg. It gave its name to the Luisenstadt Canal and the Luisenstädtische Kirche. Luisenstadt is bounded on the north by the river Spree, in the west by the Lindenstraße (in Friedrichstadt), and in the south by the Landwehrkanal. Luisenstädtische Kirche -- The Luisenstädtische Kirche was a church building in Berlin, in the former Luisenstadt, on Alte Jacobstraße between Sebastianstraße and Stallschreiberstraße. Madüsee -- also Madü Lake, was a lake in the west of the Pomeranian Lake District near Stargard in Pomerania, about 10 km north of Pyritz and about 25 km south-east of Stettin. The only significant outflow and inflow of the lake today is the Pøonia. Mecklenburg-Strelitz -- Mecklenburg-Strelitz was a grand duchy in northern Germany adjacent to Pomerania. Moabit -- In the 13th century the waste area along the road to Spandau known as Große Stadtheide ("Great city Heath") was a hunting ground of the electors of Brandenburg. 1716 saw the formation of the colony of Old Moabit by the Huguenots, who were meant to cultivate white mulberry trees for silkworms, but failed because of the low soil quality. In 1818 New Moabit was founded and grew together with Old Moabit to an industrial suburb district, which was incorporated into the city of Berlin in 1861. The industrialization started in 1820 when, with the financial support of court counselor Baillif, a simple bridge was built to connect the island to the Berlin mainland. The bridge was followed by factories, a power plant, the BerlinSpandau Canal, the Westhafen port and the Hamburger Bahnhof train station. This resulted in an exponential growth of the population. 72 Mühlendamm -- Mühlendamm refers to the Mühlendammbrücke (Mill Dam Bridge) in East Berlin's Mitte district and the road crossing the Spree river between Gertaudenstraße and Molkenmarkt. Originally a dam was built at this location used for both crossing the river and for water mills. Later, after the installation of defenses, a lock enabled frequent changes in the crossing of the Spree. It was located in the center of the medieval part of the city. Munich, Oberbayern, Bayern, Germany Neuhaus, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Slawoszewo, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Pasewalk, Ückermünde, Pomerania, Prussia -- Pasewalk, Vorpommern-Greifswald, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Germany Penkun, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Penkun, Vorpommern-Greifswald, MecklenburgVorpommern, Germany Petzin, Flatow, West Prussia, Prussia -- Zalesie, Wielkopolskie, Poland Polchow, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Pichowo, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Pommerensdorf, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Pomarzany, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Prilipp, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Przylep, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Pomerania, Prussia -- Pomerania (German: Pommern), is a historical region on the south shore of the Baltic Sea and was a province in Prussia. After World War II, most of Pomerania became part of Poland, with only a small part west of the Oder River remaining in the German state of Mecklenburg-Vorpommern. Posen -- The Province of Posen (German: Posen) was a province of Prussia from 1848 and as such part of the German Empire from 1871 until 1918. Incorporated into the Grand Duchy of Posen after the 1815 Congress of Vienna, the territory was administered as a Prussian province upon the Greater Poland Uprising of 1848. In 1919 according to the Treaty of Versailles, Germany had to cede the bulk of the province to the newly established Second Polish Republic. Prenzlau, Uckermark, Brandenburg, Germany Pribbernow, Cammin, Pomerania, Prussia -- Przybiernow, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Prussia -- The Kingdom of Prussia (German: Königreich Preußen) was a German kingdom from 1701 to 1918. It was the driving force behind the unification of Germany in 1871, and was the leading state of the German Empire until its defeat in World War I. It took its name from the territory of Prussia, although its power base was Brandenburg. Its capital was Berlin. Prussian Friedland (Preußisch Friedland), Schlochau, West Prussia, Prussia -- Debrzno, Pomorskie, Poland Rackitt, Cammin, Pomerania, Prussia -- Rokita, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland 73 Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Kreis Randow existed as a German-Prussian county in the period 1818 to 1939. It included the municipalities around the Pomeranian state capital of Stettin, mostly to the west of the Oder River. Kreis Randow was comprised of the following as of 14 October 1939, the day before its dissolution: the four cities of Altdamm, Gartz an der Oder, Penkun and Pölitz; 99 additional towns or communities; and four Gutsbezirke (noble manors). Scheune, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Szczecin Gumience, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Schildhornhalbinsel -- Is a headland in the protected area of Grunewald. The headland is named reportedly after the legend of the slavic Fürst (prince, ruler) Jacza de Copnic (de:Jaxa von Köpenick), which has it that Jacza put here in 1157 out of thankfulness for his wondrous rescue by the „Christiansgod“ his shield and his horn on a tree after his run from Albert the Bear. A monument commemorates this legend and Jacza. The monument was created in 1845 by the sculptor Friedrich August Stüler. Silesia -- Silesia (German: Schlesien) is a historical region of Poland. Between 1742 – 1945, it was the eastern part of Germany and was a Prussian province. Stangenhorst, Forsthaus, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Stettin, Stettin, Pomerania, Prussia -- Szczecin, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Stolzenburg, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Stolec, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Stöwen, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Stobno, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Tempelhof -- In the early nineteenth century, Tempelhof was still a village outside Berlin proper and was the site of country excursions for the citizens of Berlin. The northern parts of Tempelhof were incorporated as Berlin's Tempelhofer Vorstadt in 1861 and later became part of the Kreuzberg borough. Thomaskirche, St. Thomas Church -- Is a Protestant church in the Kreuzberg district of Berlin. Friedrich Adler designed and built the church between 1865 and 1869. Prior to the construction of the Berliner Dom, it was the largest church in Berlin, and the congregation was one of the largest in Western Christendom Thorn, Thorn, West Prussia, Prussia -- Torun, Kujawsko-Pomorskie, Poland Thuringia has been known by the nickname of "the green heart of Germany from the late 19th century, due to the dense forest covering the land. The Thuringian duchies which became part of the German Empire in 1871 during the Prussian-led unification of Germany were SaxeWeimar-Eisenach, Saxe-Meiningen, Saxe-Altenburg, Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, SchwarzburgSondershausen, Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt and the two principalities of Reuss Elder Line and Reuss Younger Line. In 1920, after World War I, these small states merged into one state, called Thuringia; only Saxe-Coburg voted to join Bavaria instead. Weimar became the new capital of Thuringia. Today it is a state in Germany. Topolla, Wirsitz, Posen, Prussia -- Topola, Wielkopolskie, Poland 74 Völschendorf, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Wolczkowo, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Wamlitz, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Wawelnica, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland West Prussia (German: Westpreußen) was a province of the Kingdom of Prussia from 1773– 1824 and 1878–1919/20 which was created out of the earlier Polish fiefdom of Royal Prussia. In February 1920, Germany (after it had been defeated in 1918) handed over West Prussia's central parts to become the so-called Polish Corridor and the Free City of Danzig, while the parts remaining with the German Weimar Republic became the new Posen-West Prussia or were joined to the Province of East Prussia as Regierungsbezirk West Prussia. The territory was included within Reichsgau Danzig-West Prussia from 1939–45, after which it became part of Poland. Wollin, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Wollin, Penkun, Vorpommern-Greifswald, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Germany Woltersdorf, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Woltersdorf, Casekow, Gartz (Oder), Uckermark, Brandenburg, Germany Woltersdorf, Schlochau, West Prussia, Prussia -- Kielpin, Pomorskie, Poland Wyk, Naugard, Pomerania, Prussia -- Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Wussow, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Osow, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland Zastrow, West Prussia Zeissau, Sagan, Silesia, Prussia -- Czyzykow, Lubuskie, Poland Zinnowitz, Usedom-Wollin, Pomerania, Prussia -- Zinnowitz, Vorpommern-Greifswald, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, Germany Züllchow, Randow, Pomerania, Prussia -- Zelechowa, Zachodnio-Pomorskie, Poland 75 Historic Events and People The Austro-Prussian War or Seven Weeks' War was a war fought in 1866 between the German Confederation under the leadership of the Austrian Empire and its German allies on one side and the Kingdom of Prussia with its German allies and Italy on the other, that resulted in Prussian dominance over the German states. Most of the German states sided with Austria against Prussia, even though Austria had declared war. Those that sided with Austria included the Kingdoms of Saxony, Bavaria, Württemberg, and Hanover. Southern states such as, Baden, Hesse-Kassel (or Hesse-Cassel), Hesse-Darmstadt, and Nassau also joined with Austria. Some of the northern German states joined Prussia, in particular Oldenburg, Mecklenburg-Schwerin, Mecklenburg-Strelitz, and Brunswick. The Kingdom of Italy participated in the war with Prussia, because Austria held Venetia and other smaller territories wanted by Italy to complete the process of Italian unification. In return for Italian aid against Austria, Bismarck agreed not to make a separate peace until Italy had obtained Venetia.The major result of the war was a shift in power among the German states away from Austrian and towards Prussian hegemony, and impetus towards the unification of all of the northern German states in a Kleindeutschland that excluded Austria. It saw the abolition of the German Confederation and its partial replacement by a North German Confederation that excluded Austria and the South German states. The Battle of Burkersdorf was a battle fought on July 21, 1762 during the Seven Years' War. A Prussian army of 40,000 men fought an Austrian army of around 30,000 men. The Battle of Gitschin was a battle of the Austro-Prussian War on 29 June 1866, ending with a Prussian victory over the Austrian forces. The Battle of Königgrätz also known as the Battle of Sadowa, was the decisive battle of the Austro-Prussian War, in which the Kingdom of Prussia defeated the Austrian Empire. Taking place near Königgrätz and Sadowa in Bohemia on 3 July 1866, it was an example of battlefield concentration, a convergence of multiple units at the same location to trap and/or destroy an enemy force between them. The battle ended with heavy casualties for both sides. The Prussians had nearly 9,000 men killed, wounded or missing. The Austrians and allies had roughly 31,000 men killed, wounded or missing, with 9,291 of these being prisoners. The Battle of Königinhof was fought on 29 June 1866 during the Austro-Prussian War. The Battle of Münchengrätz was fought on June 28, 1866 during the Austro-Prussian War. It ended in an Prussians victory over the Austrian Empire. Battle of Sedan -- Was fought during the Franco–Prussian War on 1 September 1870. It resulted in the capture of Emperor Napoleon III and large numbers of his troops. Bavarian Succession War -- A Saxon–Prussian alliance fought the War of the Bavarian Succession (July 1778 – 21 May 1779) against the Austrian Habsburg Monarchy to prevent the Habsburgs from acquiring the Electorate of Bavaria. Although the war consisted of only a few minor skirmishes, thousands of soldiers died from disease and starvation, earning the conflict the name Kartoffelkrieg (Potato War) in Prussia and Saxony. Biedermeier Period -- The Biedermeier period refers to an era in Central Europe during which the middle-class grew and arts appealed to common sensibilities in the historical period 76 between 1815, the year of the Congress of Vienna at the end of the Napoleonic Wars, and 1848, the year of the European revolutions. Although the term itself is a historical reference, it is predominantly used to denote the artistic styles that flourished in the fields of literature, music, the visual arts and interior design. Bismarck, Otto von -- Otto Eduard Leopold, Prince of Bismarck, Duke of Lauenburg (1 April 1815 – 30 July 1898), was a Prussian statesman who dominated German and European affairs with his conservative policies from the 1860s to his dismissal in 1890 by Emperor Wilhelm II. In 1871, after a series of short victorious wars, he unified most of the German states (excluding Austria) into a powerful German Empire under Prussian leadership. He then created a balance of power that preserved peace in Europe from 1871 until 1914. As Minister President of Prussia 1862–90, Bismarck provoked wars that made Prussia dominant over Austria and France, and lined up the smaller German states behind Prussia. In 1867 he also became Chancellor of the North German Confederation. Otto von Bismarck became the first Chancellor of a united Germany after the 1871 Treaty of Versailles and largely controlled its affairs until he was removed by Kaiser (Emperor) Wilhelm II in 1890. His diplomacy of Realpolitik and powerful rule gained him the nickname the "Iron Chancellor". Consistorial Council --A consistory was an ecclesiastical court for provinces or districts appointed by the crown. Danish Campaign of 1864 -- It was the second military conflict as a result of the SchleswigHolstein Question. Denmark fought Prussia and Austria. Like the First Schleswig War (1848– 51), it was fought for control of the duchies because of succession disputes concerning the duchies of Holstein and Lauenburg when the Danish king died without an heir acceptable to the German Confederation. Decisive controversy arose due to the passing of the November Constitution, which integrated the Duchy of Schleswig into the Danish kingdom in violation of the London Protocol. Reasons for the war were the ethnic controversy in Schleswig and the co-existence of conflicting political systems within the Danish unitary state. The war ended on 30 October 1864, when the Treaty of Vienna caused Denmark's cession of the Duchies of Schleswig, Holstein, and Saxe-Lauenburg to Prussia and Austria. It was the last victorious conflict of the Austrian Empire/Austria-Hungary in its history. The European Revolutions of 1848, known in some countries as the Spring of Nations, Springtime of the Peoples or the Year of Revolution, were a series of political upheavals throughout Europe in 1848. It remains the most widespread revolutionary wave in European history, but within a year, reactionary forces had regained control, and the revolutions collapsed. The revolutionary wave began in France in February, and immediately spread to most of Europe and parts of Latin America. Over 50 countries were affected, but with no coordination or cooperation among the revolutionaries in different countries. Five factors were involved: widespread dissatisfaction with political leadership; demands for more participation in government and democracy; the demands of the working classes; the upsurge of nationalism; and finally, the regrouping of the reactionary forces based on the royalty, the aristocracy, the army, and the peasants. The uprisings were led by shaky ad hoc coalitions of reformers, the middle classes and workers, which did not hold together for long. Tens of thousands of people were killed, and many more forced into exile. The only significant lasting reforms were the abolition of serfdom in Austria and Hungary, the end of absolute monarchy in Denmark, and the definitive end of the Capetian monarchy in France. The revolutions were most important in France, Germany, Poland, Italy, and the Austrian Empire, but did not reach Russia, Great Britain, Spain, Sweden, Portugal, or the Ottoman Empire 77 The Franco-Prussian War or Franco-German War, (19 July 1870 – 10 May 1871), was a significant conflict pitting the Second French Empire against the Kingdom of Prussia and its allies in the North German Confederation, as well as the South German states of Baden, Württemberg, Bavaria and Hesse-Darmstadt. The conflict emerged from tensions regarding the German unification. A war against France was deemed necessary to unite the North German Confederation and the independent southern German states, while France was preoccupied by the emergence of a powerful Prussia. Napoleon III seized on a supposed insult in the Ems Dispatch to declare war, which most French leaders expected to win. The German coalition quickly took charge. Its forces were superior, due to much better training and leadership, and more effective use of modern technology.[7] A series of swift Prussian and German victories in eastern France culminating in the Battle of Sedan, saw Napoleon III and his whole army captured on 2 September. Yet this did not end the war, as the Third Republic was declared in Paris on 4 September 1870 and French resistance continued under the Government of National Defence and Adolphe Thiers. Over a five-month campaign, the German forces defeated the newly recruited French armies in a series of battles fought across northern France. Following a prolonged siege, noted for the first use of anti-air artillery (against French balloons), Paris fell on 28 January 1871. The German states proclaimed their union as the German Empire under the Prussian king, Wilhelm I, uniting Germany as a nationstate. Frederick II -- Lived: 24 January 1712 – 17 August 1786; Reigned: 31 May 1740 - 17 August 1786. He is best known for his brilliance in military campaigning and organization of Prussian armies. He became known as Frederick the Great and was nicknamed Der Alte Fritz ("Old Fritz"). Frederick was a proponent of enlightened absolutism. For years he was a correspondent of Voltaire, with whom the king had an intimate, if turbulent, friendship. He modernized the Prussian bureaucracy and civil service and promoted religious tolerance throughout his realm. Frederick patronized the arts and philosophers, and wrote flute music. Frederick is buried at his favorite residence, Sanssouci in Potsdam. Because he died childless, Frederick was succeeded by his nephew, Frederick William II of Prussia, son of his brother, Prince Augustus William of Prussia. Frederick III -- Lived: 18 October 1831 – 15 June 1888). He was German Emperor and King of Prussia for 99 days in 1888, the Year of the Three Emperors. Friedrich Wilhelm Nikolaus Karl, known informally as Fritz, was the only son of Emperor William I and was raised in his family's tradition of military service. Although celebrated as a young man for his leadership and successes during the Second Schleswig, Austro-Prussian and Franco-Prussian wars, he nevertheless professed a hatred of warfare and was praised by friends and enemies alike for his humane conduct. Following the unification of Germany in 1871 his father, then King of Prussia, became the German Emperor. On William's death at the age of 90 on 9 March 1888, the throne passed to Frederick, who had by then been Crown Prince for 27 years. Frederick was suffering from cancer of the larynx when he died on 15 June 1888, aged 56, following unsuccessful medical treatments for his condition. Frederick William II -- Lived: 25 September 1744 – 16 November 1797) was King of Prussia, from 1786 until his death. Pleasure-loving and indolent, he is seen as the antithesis to his predecessor, Frederick II. Under his reign, Prussia was weakened internally and externally, and he failed to deal adequately with the challenges to the existing order posed by the French Revolution. His religious policies were directed against the Enlightenment and aimed at 78 restoring a traditional Protestantism. However, he was a patron of the arts and responsible for the construction of some notable buildings, among them the Brandenburger Tor in Berlin. Frederick William III -- Lived: 3 August 1770 – 7 June 1840) was king of Prussia from 1797 to 1840. He ruled Prussia during the difficult times of the Napoleonic wars and the end of the old German Empire. Steering a careful course between France and her enemies, after a major military defeat in 1806, he eventually and reluctantly joined the coalition against Napoleon in the Befreiungskriege. Following Napoleon's defeat he was King of Prussia during the Congress of Vienna which assembled to settle the political questions arising from the new, postNapoleonic order in Europe. Frederick William IV -- Lived: 15 October 1795 – 2 January 1861), the eldest son and successor of Frederick William III of Prussia, reigned as King of Prussia from 1840 to 1861. Also referred to as the "romanticist on the throne", he is best remembered for numerous buildings he had erected in Berlin and Potsdam, as well as for sponsoring the completion of the gothic Cologne cathedral. In politics he was conservative and he crucially rejected the title of German Emperor offered to him by the Frankfurt parliament in 1849. Although a staunch conservative, Frederick William did not seek to be a despot and so he toned down the reactionary policies enacted by his father, easing press censorship and promising to enact a constitution at some point, but refused to enact a popular legislative assembly, preferring to work with the aristocracy through "united committees" of the provincial estates. When revolution broke out in Prussia in March 1848, part of the larger Revolutions of 1848, the king initially moved to repress it with the army, but later decided to recall the troops and place himself at the head of the movement on 19 March. He committed himself to German unification, formed a liberal government, convened a national assembly, and ordered that a constitution be drawn up. Once his position was more secure again, however, he quickly had the army reoccupy Berlin and dissolved the assembly in December. German Unification -- During the first half of the 19th century, many Germans looked forward to a unification of the German states, but most German leaders and the foreign powers were opposed to it. The German nationalist movement believed that a united Germany would replace France as the dominant land power in Western Europe. This argument was aided by demographic changes: since the Middle Ages, France had had the largest population in Western Europe, but in the 19th century, its population stagnated (a trend that continued until the second half of the 20th century), and the population of the German states overtook it and continued to rapidly increase. The eventual unification of Germany was triggered by the Franco–Prussian War in 1870 and the French defeat. Thereafter, the German Empire was widely viewed as having replaced France as the leading land power in Europe. Humbolt Palace -- The Tegel Palace (or Humboldt Palace), originally a Renaissance manor house from 1558 and a hunting lodge of Elector Frederick William of Brandenburg, was bequeathed to the Humboldt family in 1797. Jahn, Friedrich Ludwig, August 11, 1778 – October 15, 1852. Was a German gymnastics educator and nationalist. His admirers know him as Turnvater Jahn, roughly meaning "father of gymnastics" Jahn. Lessing, Gotthold Ephraim -- Minna von Barnhelm or the Soldiers' Happiness. A comedy by the German author Gotthold Ephraim Lessing. It has five acts, was begun in 1763 and completed in 1767 - its author put the year 1763 on the official title page, presumably to 79 emphasize that the recent Seven Years' War plays a major part in the play, which is set on 22 August 1763. It is one of the most important comedies in German literature The Napoleonic Wars (1803–1815) were a series of wars between Napoleon's French Empire and opposing coalitions. French power rose quickly as Napoleon's armies conquered much of Europe but collapsed rapidly after France's disastrous invasion of Russia in 1812. Napoleon's empire ultimately suffered complete military defeat resulting in the restoration of the Bourbon monarchy in France and the creation of the Concert of Europe. The wars resulted in the dissolution of the Holy Roman Empire and sowed the seeds of nascent nationalism in Germany and Italy that would lead to the two nations' respective consolidations later in the century. The first attempt to crush the French Republic came in 1793 when Austria, the Kingdom of Sardinia, the Kingdom of Naples, Prussia, Spain and the Kingdom of Great Britain formed the First Coalition. French measures, including general conscription, military reform, and total war, contributed to the defeat of the First Coalition, despite the civil war occurring in France. In 1806, at the battle of Jena, French forces crushed the Prussian armies. Within two weeks of Jena, Napoleon had conquered almost all of Prussia except the area around Königsberg. The Prussian army, previously thought invincible, had been fought to almost the point of total liquidation. The Continental System, led Napoleon to directly incorporate German-speaking areas such as Hamburg into his First French Empire. In Prussia, subjugation by the French Empire brought with it many products of the French Revolution including democracy, due process in courts, abolition of privileges, etc. The Napoleonic Wars, often fought in Germany and with Germans on both sides, as in the Battle of the Nations at Leipzig, also marked the beginning of what was explicitly called French–German hereditary enmity. Modern German nationalism was born in opposition to French domination under Napoleon. In the recasting of the map of Europe after Napoleon's defeat, most of the Germanspeaking territories in the Rhineland adjoining France were put under the rule of Prussia and remainder of ones were ruled by Bavaria and Grand Duchy of Hesse. William I, (full name: Wilhelm Friedrich Ludwig, (22 March 1797 – 9 March 1888), of the House of Hohenzollern was the King of Prussia (2 January 1861 – 9 March 1888) and the first German Emperor (18 January 1871 – 9 March 1888). Under the leadership of William and his Minister President Otto von Bismarck, Prussia achieved the unification of Germany and the establishment of the German Empire. During his reign William was the commander-in-chief of the Prussian forces in the Second Schleswig War against Denmark in 1864 and the AustroPrussian War in 1866. After the latter was won by Prussia, William wanted to march on to Vienna and annex Austria but Bismarck and Crownprince Frederick talked him out of it. Bismarck wanted to end the war, so as to allow Prussia to ally with Austria if it needed to at a later date. During a heated discussion Bismarck threatened to resign if William continued to Vienna; Bismarck got his way. In 1867, the North German Confederation was created and William became its president. In 1870, during the Franco-Prussian War, William was in command of all the German forces at the crucial Battle of Sedan. William II -- (full name: Friedrich Wilhelm Viktor Albrecht von Preußen), (27 January 1859 – 4 June 1941). He was the last German Emperor (Kaiser) and King of Prussia, ruling the German Empire and the Kingdom of Prussia from 15 June 1888 to 9 November 1918. He was a grandson of the British Queen Victoria and related to many monarchs and princes of Europe, two notable contemporary relations being his cousins King George V of the United Kingdom and the Dominions, founder of the House of Windsor, and Tsar Nicholas II of the House of Romanov, the last ruler of the Russian Empire before the Russian Revolution of 1917 which deposed the monarchy. Crowned in 1888, he dismissed the Chancellor, Otto von Bismarck, in 80 1890 and launched Germany on a bellicose "New Course" in foreign affairs that culminated in his support for Austria-Hungary in the crisis of July 1914 that led to World War I. Bombastic and impetuous, he sometimes made tactless pronouncements on sensitive topics without consulting his ministers, culminating in a disastrous Daily Telegraph interview that cost him most of his power in 1908. His top generals, Paul von Hindenburg and Erich Ludendorff, dictated policy during World War I with little regard for the civilian government. An ineffective war leader, he lost the support of the army, abdicated in November 1918, and fled to exile in the Netherlands. Traditions Easter -- For the Pomeranians, Easter water signifies life and fertility. When it was still dark, girls would go in complete silence to fetch Easter water from springs and streams and then wash with the Easter water. If a girl was able to sprinkle her lover with Easter water, there would be a wedding soon. Whit Sunday -- Pfingsten or Pentecost is a religious holiday in Germany to mark the Holy Spirit's descent on Jesus' followers. Spring fun fairs are held on the long Pentecost weekend in many areas of Germany. Many local and regional customs are also associated with Pentecost Sunday, which is also known as Whitsunday. Birch trees are decorated with large wreaths. Birch trees are just coming into leaf at this time of year and symbolize the fertile spring and summer seasons. Young men in rural areas may attach a birch sprig to the wall beneath an unmarried woman's window. This fertility rite can be traced back thousands of years. The cattle were traditionally in stables and fields near villages in rural areas during winter and early spring. They were taken to fields further away from the villages at Pentecost. The strongest animals were decorated with flowers and plants and led the procession. Other Sirach -- The Book of the All-Virtuous Wisdom of Joshua ben Sira, commonly called the Wisdom of Sirach or simply Sirach, and also known as The Book Ecclesiasticus or Siracides or Ben Sira, is a work of ethical teachings from the early 2nd century B.C.. (approximately 200175 B.C.) written by the Jewish scribe Shimon ben Yeshua ben Eliezer ben Sira of Jerusalem. Sirach is accepted as part of the Christian biblical canon by Catholics, Eastern Orthodox, Anglican, and most Oriental Orthodox. In addition, like the Churches of the Anglican Communion, the Lutheran Churches include it in their lectionaries, and as a book proper for reading, devotion, and prayer. 81 Name Index Adam policeman in Prussian Friedland, 38 Aminde butcher in Prussian Friedland, 31 Arendt manager, 59 Babenschneider, 6 Christian Martin, 9 David Benjamin, 8, 9 Oehlgard, 9 Babin William, 29 Bailleul August, 26 master blacksmith in Gramzow, Uckermark, 17 Bandow teacher and director, 58 Bavenschneider, 6, 7 Carl Gottfried, 9, 11, 12 Bawenschneider, 6, 7 Behnke Boy nephew, 24 Benz pastor in Völschendorf, 20 Bethke teacher in Berlin, 50 Bismarck Otto von, 28, 49 Blaurock Hermann, 27 miller in Wussow, 27 Blindow Gottfried Matthäus, 9 Boecker Mina, 18 Boeder Mina, 16 owner in Luisenhof, 16 Bogenschneider, 6 Anna Henriette (Henriette), 15 August Friedrich Wilhelm, 15, 17, 19, 20, 24, 25, 26, 29, 34, 55 Auguste Johanna Caroline, 26, 34 Carl Adolf (Hans-Joachim), 68, 69 Carl August Ferdinand, 13, 14, 15, 18, 19, 22, 25, 26 Carl August Friedrich, 34, 38, 41 Carl Friedrich Ferdinand, 16, 17, 20, 22, 23, 24, 26, 33, 37, 54, 55, 56, 67, 68 Carl Georg Heinrich, 9, 11 82 Carl Gottlob, 11, 12, 14, 15, 16, 19 Caroline Wilhelmine, 9 Charlotte Caroline Friederike Henriette (Caroline), 14, 15 Christian Ludwig, 10 David Benjamin, 11 David Benjamin II, 9 Emilie Albertine Mathilde (Mathilde), 26 Ernst, 39, 41 Ernst Heinrich Wilhelm (Wilhelm), 14, 15, 19, 20 Ernst Paul Theodor, 26, 29, 55 Friederike Christina Wilhelmine Dorothea, 15 Fritz Wilhelm, 46, 50, 52, 54, 57, 63, 66, 68 Georg, 20 Gottwalt, 36, 39, 41 Hans, 4, 26 Helmut, 20 Ida Friederike Caroline Emilie, 26 Johanna Marie Charlotte, 26 Johannes Ernst (Hans), 4, 39, 41, 52, 57 Karl Adolf (Hans-Joachim), 54, 67 Magdalene, 26 Margaret, 26 Marie Adelheid, 25, 26, 29, 55 Paul, 20 Boy Albert, 26 Albertine, 17 Alexander, 17, 29, 31, 32, 34, 36, 37, 38 Auguste, 16, 25 Emilie, 16 Erich, 36 Ferdinand, 16 Friederike, 15, 16, 24, 26 Ida, 29 Johann Carl, 15, 17, 24 Johann Jacob I, 16 Johann Jacob II, 16 Johanna Carolina Friedrica, 16 Johanna Dorothea Maria Charlotte, 16, 17, 21, 25, 26 Mathilde, 17 Brandt Berthold, 26 Karl, 26, 34 Brunnemann pastor in Stöwen, 17 Conrad Adolf, 63, 64, 65 Alfred, 65, 68 Beate, 64 Edward, 64 83 Elisabeth Berta Marie, 54, 63, 66, 67, 68 Julius, 64 Max, 66 Crasselt lawyer, 60 Crown Prince Wilhelm, 49 Cunart. See Conrad Deichen administrator, 60 Deutloff bureau chief, 62 Deutsch S., 54 Dorn capitalist, 19 Dorst military veteran, 66 Dreblow Charlotte, 9 Dumke Berta, 31 Caroline Ernestine, 29, 30, 31, 38, 39, 53 Christian, 29 farmer in Flatow, 17 Friedrich, 33, 41 Gustav, 31 Ida, 30, 31, 36, 39 Ida Pauline (Pauline), 31, 68 John, 29, 30, 34, 36, 37, 38 Unknown in Flatow, 17 Wilhelmine, 30, 36 William, 31 Dunker Balthasar Anton, 24 Duvinage Henry, 27 Dworzazek art teacher, 58 Ehrenreich Amalia Eliesabetha, 8 Georg, 8 Eisenhaber Joachim, 16 Maria Auguste, 16 Maria Sophia, 16 Emperor Frederick, 50 Emperor Frederick III, 27 Emperor William, 44 Essen Lord, 16 84 Fertig Caroline Friederikea, 11 Filter Earl, 14 Johann, 15 Johanna, 14, 15 Foth military clerk, 28 Gerberding religion professor, 58 Gerlach military veteran, 66 Gernershaufen landowner in Scheune, 28 Giessner captain, 61 Gloede Dorothea Maria, 9 Philipp Johann, 9 Gollnow Fritz, 23 Mathilde, 26 Golzen Dorothea Henriette, 10 Gottlob Conrad, 64 Groth Elisabeth, 11 Grücher Christina Elisabeth, 9 Hahn miller in Scheune, 25 Hameister old fisher, 19 Harbarth factory owner in Berlin, 44 Hartmann Friederike, 20 master tanner in Berlin, 20 Heinze Marie, 64 Hellmuth Alfred, 60 Helm Carl Friedrich, 16 Herbst Louis, 44 Hermann Schliewe, 65 Hetzel 85 superintendant, 59 Heyden mathematics professor, 58 Hintze Christoph, 11 Louisa, 11, 12 Maria Elisabeth, 12 Hirsch manufacturer in Stettin, 17 Hoeche Auguste, 67 Holdorf Fritz, 23 Jannot owner, 25 Jobst manor owner in Gustow, 17 Joppen Carl, 26 Louise, 26 Kaiser bank official in Berlin, 31 Kaiser Wilhelm I, 49 Klawonn distillery inspector, 65 Kleist Herr von, 19 Kletke Wilhelm, 60 Knauert pastor of Luisenstadtkirche in Berlin, 53, 66 Knoblauch bank official in Berline, 31 Koch mill owner in Scheune, 28 Kolterman miller in Prussian Friedland, 35 Kopelke old servant in Prussian Friedland, 40 Kopp executive from Stettin, 24 Krause Emilie, 26 Kunert. See Conrad Lampe mathematician and scholar, 58 Lange Johann, 15 Wilhelm, 14, 15 Lehmann 86 colleague, 60 Lenz Carl Gottlob, 16 Johanna Charlotta (Charlotta), 12, 14, 16, 17, 19, 20, 22, 23 John Friedrich, 12 Lewerenz merchant in Stettin, 17 Loth old comrade, 55 Ludwig Anny, 68 Maegow manor lord, 16 Mannlich secretary, 59 Manske manor tenant, 30 Martin Weber, 23 Meisert mill buyer in Prussian Friedland, 36 Miquel finance minister, 59 Muchow artist and gardener, 60 Mueller division pastor, 68 Nadrensis Pastor, 9 Nantke Paul, 60 Neske officer, 64 Nueske shipbuilder in Aalgraben, 18 Omann money lender in Scheune, 34 Paeglow accountant in Stettin, 26 Panko'en Maria Elisabeth, 9 Pfuel General von, 60 Picarde Lieutenant, 40 Prince August Wilhelm, 66 Projah J. H., 9 Rachut "Old", 29, 32, 33 87 August, 29, 33 family, 29 Louise, 29 Ramdor language genius, 61 Ramin family, 13, 19 Ludwig von, 13 Wilhelm von, 19 Redmann Johanna Louise, 29, 31, 36, 37 Rehmenklau game keeper, 17, 19 Reinhardt chemist and physicist professor, 58 Rinck teacher in Wollin, 9 Rogge Richard, 59 Roth money lender in Scheune, 34 Sassnick colleague, 60 Schallehn pastor in Völschendorf, 23, 26 Schliewe Berta, 64, 65 Ernst, 65 Ferdinand, 65 Henriette, 65 Hermann, 65, 66, 68 Marie, 65 Mathilden, 65 Oscar, 65 Schröder Wilhelm, 28 Schroeder Gustav, 59 Schultze Pastor, 9 Schulz carpenter in Wamlitz, 15 Sommerfeld Dr. of chemistry, 61 Stelting Major von, 33 Tettenborn city councilman, 62 Thiessen pastor of Luisenstadtkirche in Berlin, 55 88 Troschke Baron von, 28 Unknown Emilie, 25 Voigt teacher in Woltersdorf, 11 von Ploetz Captain, 8 Wengaz parishioner from Brunn, 23 Woedtke Lieutenant von, 61 Wolff Reinhold, 51 Wollermann mill owner in Prussian Friedland, 34 Wrangel Field Marshall "Papa", 49 Zelle Berlin Mayor, 60 Zeppelin Graf, 68 89 Descendants of David Benjamin Babenschneider Generation 1 1. 1 DAVID BENJAMIN BABENSCHNEIDER was born in 1724. He died on 05 Jun 1797 in Krackow. He married (1) CHRISTINA ELISABETH GRÜCHER. She died on 29 Jul 1752 in Krackow. He married (2) MARIA ELISABETH PANCO'EN. She was born in 1732. She died on 05 Apr 1800 in Woltersdorf. David Benjamin Babenschneider and Christina Elisabeth Grücher had the following children: 2 i. CARL GOTTFRIED BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 29 Jul 1752 in Krackow. He died on 23 Aug 1752 in Krackow. ii. CHRISTIAN LUDWIG BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 29 Jul 1752 in Krackow. He died on 29 Nov 1752 in Krackow. David Benjamin Babenschneider and Maria Elisabeth Panco'en had the following children: iii. 2. CHRISTIANE HENRICA CHARLOTTA BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 14 Jan 1754 in Krackow. iv. OHLGARD BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 26 Aug 1755 in Krackow. She died on 19 Apr 1786 in Krackow. v. DOROTHEA ELEANORA LOUISA BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 12 Jan 1758 in Krackow. vi. CARL GOTTFRIED BAVENSCHNEIDER was born on 08 Aug 1760 in Krackow. He died on 20 Feb 1802 in Woltersdorf. He married (1) LOUISA HINZE. She was born in 1751 in Brunn. She died in 1788 in Woltersdorf. He married (2) ELISABETH GROTH. vii. MARIA ELISABETH BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 06 May 1763 in Krackow. viii. CHRISTIAN MARTIN BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 18 Nov 1765 in Krackow. He died on 19 Mar 1786 in Krackow. ix. CHRISTIAN LUDWIG BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 26 Apr 1769 in Krackow. x. DAVID BENJAMIN BABENSCHNEIDER was born on 26 Aug 1771 in Krackow. He died on 06 Sep 1831 in Krackow. Generation 2 2. 2 1 CARL GOTTFRIED BAVENSCHNEIDER (David Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 08 Aug 1760 in Krackow. He died on 20 Feb 1802 in Woltersdorf. He married (1) LOUISA HINZE. She was born in 1751 in Brunn. She died in 1788 in Woltersdorf. He married (2) ELISABETH GROTH. Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider and Louisa Hinze had the following children: 3. 3 i. CARL GOTTLOB BOGENSCHNEIDER was born in 1782 in Woltersdorf. He died on 06 Apr 1824 in Hammelstall. He married (1) JOHANNA CHARLOTTA LENZ. She was born on 12 Apr 1786 in Neuhaus. She died on 15 Oct 1853 in Hammelstall. ii. CAROLINE BAVENSCHNEIDER. She married Unknown Dräger in Pölitz. iii. LOUISA BAVENSCHNEIDER. She married Unknown Eggert in Stettin. Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider and Elisabeth Groth had the following children: iv. FRIEDERIKE HENRIETTE BAVENSCHNEIDER was born in 1792 in Woltersdorf. v. WILHELM BAVENSCHNEIDER was born in 1793 in Woltersdorf. vi. AUGUST FERDINAND BAVENSCHNEIDER was born in 1800 in Woltersdorf. Generation 3 3. 3 2 1 CARL GOTTLOB BOGENSCHNEIDER (Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider, David Benjamin Babenschneider) was born in 1782 in Woltersdorf. He died on 06 Apr 1824 in Hammelstall. He married (1) JOHANNA CHARLOTTA LENZ. She was born on 12 Apr 1786 in Neuhaus. She died on 15 Oct 1853 in Hammelstall. Carl Gottlob Bogenschneider and Johanna Charlotta Lenz had the following children: i. 4 CHARLOTTE CAROLINE FRIEDERIKE HENRIETTE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 31 Aug 90 1810 in Neuhaus. She died on 09 Oct 1888 in Stettin. She married (1) Johann FILTER. 4. 5. 6. ii. CARL AUGUST FERDINAND BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 08 Oct 1812 in Neuhaus. He died on 27 Sep 1886 in Stettin. He married (1) FRIEDERIKE BOY. She was born on 02 Nov 1814 in Luisenhof bei Boeck. She died on 10 Feb 1840 in Hammelstall. He married (2) J OHANNA DOROTHEA MARIA CHARLOTTE BOY. She was born on 30 Aug 1817 in Prilipp bei Stöwen. She died on 26 Dec 1903 in Dobrin, West Prussia. iii. ANNA HENRITTE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 18 May 1815 in Völschendorf. He died on 03 Sep 1853 in Güstow. He married (1) Wilhelm LANGE. iv. FRIEDERIKE CHRISTINA WILHELM. DOROTHEA BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 13 Jun 1818 in Brunn. She died on 03 Sep 1853 in Wamlitz. She married (1) UNKNOWN SCHULZ. v. AUGUST FRIEDRICH WILHELM BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 07 Jan 1821 in Hammelstall. He died on 17 Oct 1881 in Ausbau Völschendorf. He married (1) FRIEDERIKE HARTMANN. vi. ERNST HEINRICH WILHELM BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 24 Feb 1823 in Hammelstall. He died on 20 Nov 1909 in Völschendorf. He married (1) WILHELMINE MIELENZ. She died in 1913. Generation 4 4. 4 3 2 CARL AUGUST FERDINAND BOGENSCHNEIDER (Carl Gottlob , Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider, David 1 Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 08 Oct 1812 in Neuhaus. He died on 27 Sep 1886 in Stettin. He married (1) FRIEDERIKE BOY. She was born on 02 Nov 1814 in Luisenhof bei Boeck. She died on 10 Feb 1840 in Hammelstall. He married (2) JOHANNA DOROTHEA MARIA CHARLOTTE BOY. She was born on 30 Aug 1817 in Prilipp bei Stöwen. She died on 26 Dec 1903 in Dobrin, West Prussia. Carl August Ferdinand Bogenschneider and Friederike Boy had the following child: 7. 5 i. CARL FRIEDRICH FERDINAND BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 30 Jan 1840 in Hammelstall. He died on 12 Oct 1912 in Berlin, Germany (Kaiser-Friedrich-Platz Nr. 2). He married (1) C AROLINE ERNESTINE DUMKE. She was born on 16 May 1843 in Flatow, West Prussia. She died on 25 Apr 1903 in Berlin, Germany (Sebastianstrasse Nr. 64). Carl August Ferdinand Bogenschneider and Johanna Dorothea Maria Charlotte Boy had the following children: ii. AUGUSTE JOHANNA CAROLINE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 18 Oct 1841 in Hammelstall. She died on 29 May 1871 in Stettin. She married (1) KARL BRANDT. iii. 5. IDA FRIEDERIKE CAROLINE EMILIE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 10 Jul 1843 in Hammelstall. She died on 01 Mar 1853 in Völschendorf. iv. FRANZ AUGUST ALBERT BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 27 Apr 1846 in Hammelstall. He died on 18 May 1847 in Hammelstall. v. EMILIE ALBERTINE MATHILDE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 21 Apr 1848 in Hammelstall. She died on 25 Feb 1853 in Völschendorf. vi. JOHANNA MARIE CHARLOTTE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 26 Sep 1850 in Hammelstall. She died on 07 Feb 1853 in Völschendorf. 8. vii. ERNST PAUL THEODOR BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 12 Sep 1853 in Völschendorf. He married (1) BERTA KRAUSE. She died on 02 Nov 1885 in Züllchow. He married (2) MATHILDE GOLLNOW. She was born on 12 Mar 1857 in Kellerbeck. viii. MARIE ADELHEID BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 11 Sep 1855 in Völschendorf. She married (1) CARL JOPPEN. 9. ix. AUGUST FRIEDRICH WILHELM BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 30 Apr 1857 in Völschendorf. He married (1) EMILIE KRAUSE. She was born on 01 Oct 1856 in Basentin. 4 3 2 AUGUST FRIEDRICH WILHELM BOGENSCHNEIDER (Carl Gottlob , Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider, 1 David Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 07 Jan 1821 in Hammelstall. He died on 17 Oct 1881 in Ausbau Völschendorf. He married (1) FRIEDERIKE HARTMANN. Generation 4 (con't) August Friedrich Wilhelm Bogenschneider and Friederike Hartmann had the following children: 91 5 i. 6. JOHANNES ALBERT BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 25 Apr 1854 in Hammelstall. He died on 27 Apr 1866 in Ausbau Völschendorf. ii. GEORG BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 08 Apr 1857 in Polchow. He died on 16 Oct 1901 in Stettin. He married (1) MARTHA BÖHM. She was born about 1860. She died in 1908 in Stettin. 4 3 2 ERNST HEINRICH WILHELM BOGENSCHNEIDER (Carl Gottlob , Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider, David 1 Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 24 Feb 1823 in Hammelstall. He died on 20 Nov 1909 in Völschendorf. He married (1) WILHELMINE MIELENZ. She died in 1913. Ernst Heinrich Wilhelm Bogenschneider and Wilhelmine Mielenz had the following children: 10. 5 i. ANNA BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 10 Jul 1854 in Völschendorf. ii. PAUL BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 12 Sep 1856 in Völschendorf. iii. HELMUT BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 02 Jan 1865 in Völschendorf. He married (1) WILHELMINE HEISE. She was born on 23 Nov 1864 in Rebzyn. Generation 5 7. 5 4 3 2 CARL FRIEDRICH FERDINAND BOGENSCHNEIDER (Carl August Ferdinand , Carl Gottlob , Carl Gottfried 1 Bavenschneider, David Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 30 Jan 1840 in Hammelstall. He died on 12 Oct 1912 in Berlin, Germany (Kaiser-Friedrich-Platz Nr. 2). He married (1) CAROLINE ERNESTINE DUMKE. She was born on 16 May 1843 in Flatow, West Prussia. She died on 25 Apr 1903 in Berlin, Germany (Sebastianstrasse Nr. 64). Carl Friedrich Ferdinand Bogenschneider and Caroline Ernestine Dumke had the following children: 6 i. CARL AUGUST FRIEDRICH BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 26 Oct 1866 in Scheune bei Stettin. He died on 22 Jul 1872 in Preußisch Friedland, West Prussia. ii. JOHANNES (HANS) ERNST BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 09 Dec 1867 in Preußisch Friedland, West Prussia. He married (1) ELISABETH BERTA MARIE CONRAD. She was born on 22 Aug 1879 in Berlin, Germany (Paulstr. Nr. 5). iii. GOTTWALT BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 30 May 1869 in Preußisch Friedland, West Prussia. He died on 17 Jul 1872 in Preußisch Friedland, West Prussia. iv. ERNST OSKAR BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 16 Feb 1872 in Preußisch Friedland, West Prussia. He died on 17 Jul 1872 in Preußisch Friedland, West Prussia. v. FRIEDERIKE LOUISE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 17 Jul 1873 in Berlin, Germany (Grenadierstr. Nr. 18). She died on 01 Apr 1874 in Berlin, Germany. vi. FRITZ WILHELM BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 30 Aug 1876 in Berlin, Germany. 11. 8. 5 i. 9. 3 2 6 JOHANNES BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 09 Dec 1889 in Züllchow. 5 4 3 AUGUST FRIEDRICH WILHELM BOGENSCHNEIDER (Carl August Ferdinand , Carl Gottlob , Carl 2 1 Gottfried Bavenschneider, David Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 30 Apr 1857 in Völschendorf. He married (1) EMILIE KRAUSE. She was born on 01 Oct 1856 in Basentin. August Friedrich Wilhelm Bogenschneider and Emilie Krause had the following children: i. ii. 10. 4 ERNST PAUL THEODOR BOGENSCHNEIDER (Carl August Ferdinand , Carl Gottlob , Carl Gottfried 1 Bavenschneider, David Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 12 Sep 1853 in Völschendorf. He married (1) BERTA KRAUSE. She died on 02 Nov 1885 in Züllchow. He married (2) MATHILDE GOLLNOW. She was born on 12 Mar 1857 in Kellerbeck. Ernst Paul Theodor Bogenschneider and Mathilde Gollnow had the following child: 6 MARGARETE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 13 Sep 1883 in Stettin. She married (1) UNKNOWN PAEGLOW. MAGDALENE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 14 Apr 1888 in Stettin. 5 4 3 2 HELMUT BOGENSCHNEIDER (Ernst Heinrich Wilhelm , Carl Gottlob , Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider, 1 David Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 02 Jan 1865 in Völschendorf. He married (1) WILHELMINE HEISE. She was born on 23 Nov 1864 in Rebzyn. Helmut Bogenschneider and Wilhelmine Heise had the following children: 92 6 i. GEORG BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 25 Dec 1895 in Mandelkow. ii. OTTO BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 07 Dec 1899 in Mandelkow. iii. CHARLOTTE BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 12 Apr 1901 in Mandelkow. Generation 6 11. 6 5 4 JOHANNES (HANS) ERNST BOGENSCHNEIDER (Carl Friedrich Ferdinand , Carl August Ferdinand , 3 2 1 Carl Gottlob , Carl Gottfried Bavenschneider, David Benjamin Babenschneider) was born on 09 Dec 1867 in Preußisch Friedland, West Prussia. He married (1) ELISABETH BERTA MARIE CONRAD. She was born on 22 Aug 1879 in Berlin, Germany (Paulstr. Nr. 5). Johannes (Hans) Ernst Bogenschneider and Elisabeth Berta Marie Conrad had the following child: i. 7 KARL ADOLF HANS-JOACHIM BOGENSCHNEIDER was born on 13 Aug 1909 in Berlin, Germany (Kaiser-Friedrich-Platz Nr. 2). 93