Tuesday, June 25, 2013

Gerhard Hermann: The Eight-week Voyage from Bremen to Galveston

The Sophienburg, one of the Ships of the Adelsverein similar to the Gerhard Hermann
The Gerhard Hermann was a two-masted sailing vessel which set sail from the port in Bremen, Germany on 13 November 1845 carrying 153 passengers, among whom were John, Henry, and Conrad Holzgrefe and his family. The ship was a part of a mass emigration from Germany organized by the Adelsverein, a company owned and operated by several German noblemen. This was the fourth shipload of some 7,000 immigrants transported to Texas under the guidance of Prince Carl of Solms-Braunfels who founded the town New Braunfels in honor of his home town. The eight-week voyage landed them in Galveston, Texas on 10 January 1846 (The Gerhard Hermann reportedly sank the next year on a similar trip just outside of the port at Galveston). Over the course of the journey, Texas became the 28th State of the United States of America.
Seal of The Adelsverein
It was recorded that "Luise Rüemker Fuchs, during her three-month long trip aboard the Gerhard Hermann in 1845-1846, made certain that she taught her children and other German youths among the passengers the English language. On this ship, the travelers faced the usual discomforts of seasickness, yet Luise realized that the children needed to have some basic understanding of the predominant Texas language despite how queasy their stomachs might feel. While not all women had the education or the means as this Lutheran pastor’s wife, many noted how they read English books and papers to learn that language and to remember what they had already learned". (http://www.txcwcivilian.org/sitebuildercontent/sitebuilderfiles/german_lutheran.pdf)

The following is an account of the adventure as recorded by Ottilie Goeth in her memoir  (http://www.kenfuchs42.net/kfww/Ottilie%20Fuchs%20Goeth%20-%20Memoirs%20of%20a%20Texas%20Pioneer%20Grandmother.pdf)

"After arriving in Bremen, our departure for Bremerhaven, where our ship lay at anchor,
was postponed for another eight days. For us children this was our first opportunity to visit a
larger city. Of course we saw “Roland the Giant in the Market Square,” the interesting city
hall, and whatever else of interest the old Hansa city with its old churches and ramparts had to
offer. Meanwhile our cousin Heinrich Fuchs, a Theology student, had joined the group of
emigrants. Generously Father twice let us go to the opera with him where we heard Oberon
and Der Freischütz by Carl Maria von Weber. Attending these performances always
remained an unforgettable experience to us. At Bremerhaven we again had to wait for several
days, and we used the time to take long walks into the interior. Then we embarked on the
Gerhard Hermann. (See Appendix A, No. 5.) Well do I remember my apprehensions as we
boarded this fearsome crate which was to carry us out into the new world. I might mention
that the Gerhard Hermann sunk on its next trip to Galveston. Fortunately the passengers were
rescued. Thus our former home and happy childhood now lay behind us, soon to be followed
by more serious times. Yet we were cheerful. There was no lack of singing, everyone
attempting to encourage the other, with probably many a secret tear falling into the waves.
We hurried towards the sinking sun, the magic West beckoning, as we wondered what the
future held in store."

"Our journey in the fall of the year was the worst imaginable time to sail. The food was
wretched, the water barely drinkable, and we were seasick throughout most of the voyage. It
was particularly rough in the North Sea, with its choppy green waves. Finally, the weather
became so bad that our two-masted vessel, the Gerhard Hermann, had to put into port during
the night at Dartmouth, England. As we came on deck the following morning, we were
delightfully surprised at the wonderful sight. Before us lay a steep and beautiful coastline,
gayly decorated in autumn’s colors. The apples were still on the trees, green hedges were
everywhere, every wall was clad in ivy vines, and above on the hill a hunt with its dogs and
other traditional trappings was in progress. To our delight, the ship remained there for several
days to take in water. We went on land and imagined that it was going to be just as lovely in
Texas. We children had already acquired some knowledge of English. Mine was very scant,
but I chatted with the innkeepers as best I could. Father was quite fluent in English and very
soon felt at home in conversation with the natives when we made some excursions further
inland."

"We could not stay in the pretty little harbor of Dartmouth forever; the anchors were pulled
up, and we headed into the ocean. The voyage lasting for weeks and weeks, seemed endless.
Constantly seasick, we lay around on the deck, our spirits greatly depressed; even Columbus
could not have looked more eagerly for land than did we hollow-eyed, half-starved, palefaced specimens. Finally, we reached the island of Puerto Rico where we lay for one week,
because of insufficient wind. This was most welcome to us children, for there we were not
seasick, and the natives brought us various exotic fruits and foods which tasted all too good
and somewhat revived our weakened vitality. It was now close to Christmas. Father made
some attractive little wagons out of dry palm leaves for the two smallest children. These were
taken on board and provided no small amount of entertainment for the two little brothers.
From there it probably did not take much longer until we arrived at Galveston. Of course the
city of that day, 1846, was not the large beautiful port city of today. It consisted of only a few
streets, and instead of the modern towers in the sky, there were only a few wooden houses."

"We had imagined it otherwise. After we had landed, it was found that reports concerning conditions for the immigrants sponsored by the Society were so discouraging that Father decided to drop out of the Society
and continue the journey on his own. The members of the Society were brought to Indianola
on small ships and from there transported in ox-drawn wagons across endless prairies to thelands purchased where the cities of New Braunfels and Fredericksburg are now located.
Many of the emigrants died from infectious fevers during the long journey. It now seems
quite impossible to me that my frail mother could have survived a trip of that kind. It appears
that even in this a lucky star governed Father’s decision."

As recorded in "A New Land Beckoned: German Immigration to Texas, 1844-1847", Conrad and his family came from the small town of Eldagsen in Hanover, Germany. Here is a picture of the town from Google Maps:
Eldagsen, Hanover, Germany
Notice the street highlighted? Holzgrefestraße (Holzgrefe Street)!!! Conrad and his family eventually made their way with the company across the plains to Comal County.

What became of John and Henry is somewhat of a mystery still; however, my hypothesis is that John and Henry are the same as Johann Fredrich and Henry August who are my ancestors who made their way to Evansville, Indiana. Perhaps they, like the woman in the previous memoir, decided to drop out of the society as it came to light that the noblemen had lots of money, but little business skills. It does seem strange to me that they would not stay with Conrad if they are indeed related, though the record makes no mention of any relation.

How did your ancestors come to America?

Sunday, June 23, 2013

The Great Merger: Holzgrafe and Schurmeier

In searching for records of my second great-grandfather, Henry Louis Holzgrafe, I came across a very interesting situation. I can find Henry Louis in every US Census for which he was alive...except the 1870 census. At the time, he was about 10 years old and should be found with his family still. His father, Fredrich Holzgrafe, had passed away in 1867 at the early age of about 39 years. Henry Louis was only 6 years old at the time, although some accounts say he may have been younger. His mother, Caroline, was now the widow-mother of four young children. At about the same time as the death of Fredrich, another couple suffered a similar loss nearby. Henry Schurmeier, father of four, lost his wife, Wilhelmine in 1866. The two families, one fatherless, and the other motherless must have known each other well, for on 13 February 1868 Caroline Holzgrafe married Henry Schurmeier. The two families merged together. The list of children now included Henry jr., John, Hanna, and Wilhelmine from Henry Schurmeier and Louis, Ferdinand, Matilda, and Henry from Caroline Holzgrafe. Henry and Caroline eventually had two of their own: Fred and Ben.

Marriage Certificate for Henry Schurmeier and Caroline Holtzgraefe
Here comes the interesting part. In the 1860 census, we find both families separate and complete. In 1870, after the great merger, we find every one there...with a couple errors. First off, the surname is recorded somewhat awfully by the enumerator and appears as Shermin instead of Schurmeier. Then, all the children are listed with no last name, an indication that all had the same surname as the head of the household which was not true. In the 1870 census, there was no place to record the relationship of the individual to the head of the household; however, we do find written vertically aside the names of Matilda (Holzgrafe) and John (Schurmeier) the word "Twins". Indeed it can be found that they were about the same age, but why would they list them as twins? Also (and here's the big mystery) we find a 10 year old Charles in the household...but no Henry Louis. I searched long and hard everywhere I could think of for Henry Louis in the 1870 census with no luck.

Then it hit me. Something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong and I wasn't sure what it was, but Henry Schurmeier and Caroline both knew what it was. Perhaps they wished to avoid paying extra taxes or perhaps they wished to keep this merger a secret. For whatever reason, it seems as though whoever reported the family's information to the enumerator lied. If you think about it, everything would work out just fine...except for the fact that each spouse had a child about the same age. There was no way around the awkward questions so they simply said that Matilda and John were twins. Also, why would you name two of your children Henry? So, after reporting the oldest son, Henry Jr, whoever was reporting this to the enumerator had to make up a name for Henry Louis. Since both Henry and Louis were now taken, Charles made it on the census and stayed. There never was a Charles Shermin. It was Henry Louis all along! Very curious. Why would they pretend the merging of the two families never took place? By the 1880 census, all of Caroline's children had left the home and kept the surname Holzgrafe (Except for Matilda who married a Bertram and eventually had 11 children).

Considering all the evidences, there is no doubt in my mind that the 'Charles Shermin' reported in the 1870 census is in fact Henry Louis, my second great-grandfather.

Friday, June 21, 2013

Cross-Sourcing

To discern the truth in regards to most mysteries, it is always a good idea to do what I call 'Cross-Sourcing'. This technique includes analyzing the same situation from multiple angles or sources. It is always easier to see with two eyes rather than just one.

I was able to use this technique today actually while researching the Texas Conrad Holzgraf clan on Ancestry.com. I had found the name Christine Holzgrafe in the past as a 58 year old 'servant' in the house of Louis Mittendorf. Who was she? How did she get there? I could find no other records for a Christine Holzgrafe anywhere on Ancestry.com.

Utilizing the cross-sourcing technique, I got on to familysearch.org where I looked up more information on Conrad Holzgraf. To my surprise, I found something I hadn't seen before: the marriage record of Conrad Holzgreve to Christine Spicker, 19 April 1857. According to a family tree on Ancestry.com, Johanna, Conrad's first wife, had died on 28 September 1856. Since Conrad himself passed away on 16 January 1858, neither Conrad nor Johanna appear in the 1860 US Census with their children. Instead we find Christine Holzgrafe, the second wife and widow of the late Conrad Holzgrafe.

"In the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established" (2 Corinthians 13:1).