Category Archives: Freinsheim and Palatinate history

Soccer back and forth

Yesterday afternoon, the European Soccer Championship quarterfinal between Germany and Italy was tough going. My son was home, watching it about two feet away from the screen because he didn’t have his contacts in.

“I wonder about the history of soccer,” I said from back on the couch like a normal person.

“It started in England,” he said, spooning breakfast cereal into his mouth. “They call it football, but ‘socc’ was the nickname for the association, and they added the ‘-er’ on the end.”

Huh. This morning, still bemoaning Germany’s heartbreaking loss, I began clicking around for more enlightenment. The research trail was labyrinthine, since the keywords “history of soccer” and “history of football” are interchangable in certain corners of the world. Still, I found the basics quickly: games where a ball is kicked by the foot date back to China 1700 years ago etc. etc. Fast forward to 1863, when two English Football Associations were founded: Association (“Socc-er”) Football and Rugby Football (the former being a game where the ball could not be touched by the hands).

Still, confusion reigned. For instance, in the Gale Cengage 19th Century U.S. Newspapers database, I found no mention of the word “soccer,” but “football” turned up the following.
Boston Daily Advertiser (Boston, MA) Thursday, January 14, 1864
“A number of English gentlemen living in Paris have lately organised a football club, to which is to be added athletic indoor exercises of a gymnasia character. The football contests take place in the Bois de Boulogne, with the permission of the French authorities, and surprise the French amazingly.”

Hmm. Do they mean socc-er? Or rugg-er? (British nickname back then for rugby.) Interesting that the Boston Daily Advertiser is reporting the goings-on in Paris. Over a decade later, the same newspaper reports on a football match in Cambridge, Mass. between Harvard and Canada (Tuesday, May 09, 1876). The “Harvards” won, 1-0. But descriptions of the goals and touchdowns, movement up and down the field, etc. more closely resemble rugby.

Meanwhile, Germany did not found a football (soccer) association until 1900, one of the last countries in Europe to do so. One reason might be that, unlike the rest of western Europe, Germany was not a country until 1871. Early on, a memorable, crushing defeat for Germany occurred in 1909, when England trounced Germany 9-0. In the latter half of the 20th century (after two world wars, and decades where Germany was divided into two countries, then reunited), Germany had a string of victories, prompting Gary Lineker, England’s legendary striker, to state (after England’s 1990 World Cup loss): “Soccer is a game for 22 people that run around, play the ball, and one referee who makes a slew of mistakes, and in the end Germany always wins.”

A more complete exploration of 20th century German soccer can be found at Soccer-Fans-Info.com.

Add wine to the water

Do I have it backwards? Isn’t it supposed to be “add water to the wine?” Today, perhaps. But in Roman times, and still in the Palatinate, a favorite quaff is the Wein-schorle, a healthy dose of sparkling mineral water with wine added.

On my travels in the Palatinate (Pfalz) in 2010, cultural disorientation smacked me on the forehead my first night, while visiting the Bad Dürkheim Wurstmarkt. In one of the many vendor tents of this wine festival (which dates back some 600 years), I had no idea what any of the offerings on the sign meant. What on earth was a Wein-schorle? (a spritzer) A Trollschoppen? (a bumpy 0.5 litre pint glass, unique to the Palatinate). Traubensaft? (juice) Sprudel? (mineral water)

What’s more, I couldn’t help wondering, why are they diluting their wine? It seemed so strange, but turned out to be a wise choice — the Wein-schorle kept me hydrated, and alert enough late into the evening to be able to enjoy the fireworks display.

The disorientation continued the next day at Bewartstein castle, where I heard (or at least I thought heard — the tour guide was speaking German, my relative translating bits and pieces) that the best wine was reserved for the king’s knights at the castle, because if the water supply was poisoned, they would survive to protect the king. This concept cast a whole new perspective on the purpose of, and fascination with, wine-making. Water fermented with grapes in the wine-making process would render it safe to drink.

A week later, at Heidelberg Castle, I encountered the world’s largest wine barrel, the Heidelberg Tun. The barrel was built as a kind of “reservoir” — 55,345 gallons in all — to contain wine quotas, that is, the royal family’s taxes on wine growers under their rule. Imagine: all those wines dumped together in one enormous vat. What would be the point? Unless maybe, the water quality was poor, so the wine served as a substitute, or was mixed with mineral water to stave off illness?

Which makes more sense, except for the dance floor on top of the barrel. Perhaps the royal family’s motives were not entirely pure.

Mythic Palatines in America

I did not realize this book was so rare. My relative Angela gave a copy to me–Pfälzer in Amerika (Palatines in America) by Roland Paul and Karl Scherer–to help in my thesis research. Searching out a link to it for this blog, I notice it sells for a high price. I can see why.

It’s not such a big volume, but it’s packed with cross-cultural historical info. Published in 1995 by the Institute of Palatine History and Folklife, it offers articles about 18th and 19th century immigration to America from the Palatine region. Most of the text has English translations. Included are  maps and explorations of the “waves” of immigration and their causes, bios of notable personalities, and letters written by immigrants to America (only in German).

I find the bios especially intriguing. I had not realized that Thomas Nast (b. 1840), “cartoonist, moralist, and ‘president-maker'” was a contemporary of Michael Harm (b. 1841).

When in Germany, I visited Villa Ludwigshöhe above Edenkoben, and walked through that town, but missed the part of Edenkoben with the Johann Adam Hartmann fountain. Born in Edenkoben, Johann Adam Hartmann emigrated in 1764 to America, finishing his days in Herkimer, NY. A neighbor of James Fenimore Cooper, many claim the main character of Cooper’s most famous series (Last of the Mohicans, The Deerslayer, The Pioneers, etc.) is in part based on Hartmann. Pfälzer in Amerika states:

[After arrival in America in 1764], Hartmann became a woodsman and hunter on the Indian frontier. When the War of Independence began in 1775, he had already had ten years of hunting and fighting experience which he now put to use. In particular, he is said to have been instrumental in winning the Oriskany battle against the British troops and their Indian allies in the Mohawk Valley on 6 August 1777.

A memorial plaque has also been installed in the village. “In Edenkoben and elsewhere, it is firmly believed that next to Daniel Boone, the man from Edenkoben formed the most important model for J. F. Cooper’s character, Leatherstocking.”

A brief history of the Palatinate

To imagine one might write a “brief” history of the Palatinate seems grandiose, but I think Larry O. Jensen has done a pretty good job, in “Articles of Interest” in a 1990 issue of the German Genealogical Digest (Volume VI, No. 2). I summarize the contents of his article below.

The Palatinate? Known in Germany as the Pfalz (from the Latin term palatium meaning palace or castle). Also called the Niederpfalz, the Pfalz am Rhein, “Palatinatus inferior”, “Palatinatus Rheni”, Rheinpfalz, and Rheinbayern. Why so many names for one relatively small stretch of land along the Rhine River? Perhaps because this charming locality has seen a whole lot of history.

HISTORY OF THE PALATINATE

3rd century – Inhabited by Alemannic tribes
6th century – Conquered by the Franks, who established tribal districts, otherwise known as “Gauen”
9th century – Under Charlemagne, earls were established to rule the Gauen
12th century – King Friedrich I became the ruler.
1214 – Ludwig of Bavaria, of the House of Wittelsbach, became ruler of the Palatinate, by marriage
1410 – Four sons of King Ruprecht III divided the region into four parts. Ludwig III, the eldest, received the Rheinpfalz
1508-1544 – King Ludwig V introduced Protestantism, although he himself remained Catholic
1618-1648 – Thirty Years War. At the start, the Pfalz was ruled by King Friedrich IV, leading supporter of the Evangelical Union. In 1622 Heidelberg was conquered and plundered, and the Pfalz turned over to Bavaria’s Duke Maximilian. Spinola of Spain then invaded the Pfalz. The plague hit at around the same time, wiping out as much as two-thirds of the population. The Thirty Years War established the right of three religions to exist: Catholic, Lutheran, and Calvinist.
1673-79 – War between the German Empire and France, in which the Pfalz had to pay 250,000 florin in war tax. (1683, Pietists emigrate, establish Germantown, PA)
1688 – War of the League of Augsburg. King Louis XIV of France invaded and burned most of the region to the ground.
1697 – Treaty of Rijswik made the State Church Catholic, although Catholics were outnumbered 5 to 1.
1705 – Calvinist and Lutheran churches re-established.
1707 – Palatinate destroyed in the Spanish War of Succession. (1708 – another emigration led by Joshua von Kocherthal, many of whom settled in Neuberg on the Hudson River.)
1742 – The Palatinate grew and prospered in trade, agriculture, arts, and science.
1799 – France moved in to occupy the Palatinate, Napoleon officially took the region over in 1801.
1815 – Paris Peace Treaty gives the Palatinate to Bavaria. Thirteen districts were created: Bergzabern, Frankenthal, Germersheim, Homburg, Kaiserslautern, Kirchheimbolanden, Kusel, Landau, Ludwigshafen, Neustadt, Pirmasens, Speier, Zweibruecken
1832 – Hambacher Festival – enormous gathering of peasants and intellecuals from all over Europe at Hambach Castle to advocate for a democracy – the tricolor black, red and gold flag was first flown. The rulers quickly put down the movement, and forbid political assemblies.
1849 – Democratic Revolution of 1848 crushed by Prussia and Bavaria (prompting a wave of emigration from the region)
1871 – The Palatinate joins the united German Empire.

There are many twists and turns in between, but were I to include them, this history would not be brief. Not at all. When I visited the Palatinate a little over a year ago, a member of the Bad Dürkheim history club noted they had suffered more than 20 wars between 1610 and 1850. No wonder the Spätlese (late harvest wines) are so popular — no doubt they take off the edge. These days, the people of the Palatinate are a fun-loving people, in a fertile, enchanting land.

German children’s tale: Der Struwwelpeter – Shaggy-headed Peter

While we’re on the subject of dolls, on my visit to the Rosalie Whyel Museum of Doll Art (see previous post) I was delighted to see a doll version of Shaggy-headed Peter, a German children’s book character. Der Struwwelpeter, oder Lustige Geschichten und drollige Bilder für Kinder von 3-6 Jahren (“Shaggy-headed Peter, or funny stories and amusing pictures for children aged 3-6 year”) was written by Heinrich Hoffmann, and first published in 1847. Note not only the long hair, but the untrimmed fingernails.

The link above is to a Gutenberg Project e-book of an English translation of STRUWWELPETER. Mark Twain enjoyed the humor of Hoffmann, and also translated his poems. Below is Mark Twain’s version of one of the stories in the collection, “The Story of the Thumb-Sucker.” (For illustrations, follow the link above.)

Story of the Thumb-Sucker
“Konrad!” cried his mamma dear,
“I’ll go out, but you stay here.
Try how pretty you can be
Till I come again,” said she.
“Docile be, and good and mild,
Pray don’t suck your thumb, my child,
For if you do, the tailor’ll come
And bring his shears ands nip your thumb
From off your hand as clear and clean
As if of paper it had been.”

Before she’d turned the corner south,
He’d got his thumbkin in his mouth!
Bang! here goes the door ker-slam!
Whoop! the tailor lands ker-blam!
Waves his shears, the heartless grub,
And calls for Dawmen-lutscher-bub.
Claps his weapon to the thumb,
Snips it square as head of drum,
While that lad his tongue unfurled
And fired a yell heard ’round the world.

Who can tell that mother’s sorrow
When she saw her boy the morrow!
There he stood all steeped in shame,
And not a thumbkin to his name.

(translation by Mark Twain)

Celebrities of the 1848 Revolution

The “1848 Revolution” in Europe was a formative political event of the mid-19th century century. Beginning in late February, 1848 with an uprising in Paris, the foment of peasants against rulers played out across the many countries, duchies, and principalities of the day. It took over a year for all of the different revolutions to be crushed, the rebels scattered in exile. Here are a few persons who went on to make a name for themselves, who were active in some part of the 1848 struggles:

Richard Wagner was active in the rebellion in Dresden
Robert Schumann and his wife Clara were witnesses to the Dresden violence, and Schumann fled the scene rather than be conscripted in the city’s civil guard
Karl Marx was especially active in France in 1848; the failure of the rebellion convinced him of the need for a more radical society
Frederick Engels wrote about his role in the Palatinate in 1849, in a document called “The Campaign for the German Imperial Constitution
Otto von Bismarck was a young landowner who rose to power and influence on the monarchist side
Carl Schurz was a leader in the rebellious provisional governments army, who escaped from the Prussian troops through a sewer from a village under siege, sailed to America, and later became an active advocate of the newly formed Republican party and an attorney and friend of Abraham Lincoln
Jacob Müller was a provisional government civil commissioner of Kirchheimbolanden who immigrated to Cleveland, eventually becoming the tenth Lieutenant Governor of Ohio from 1872-1874.

Perhaps you know of others? If so, do tell.

Emigration geography

When in Germany, I visited the Bremerhaven Auswandererhaus, where many genealogist types do research. A large number of Germans left for the Americas (New Zealand and Australia, too) via the northern ports at Hamburg and Bremerhaven. However, it’s not the route my ancestor Michael Harm took from Freinsheim in the Rhineland-Palatinate. He went through the French port at Le Havre, and he wasn’t the only one. According to Freinsheim emigration records, many of its citizens took a similar route in the 19th century.

The map here was made in 1596, so it’s a far cry from 1857 when it comes to locations of cities and borders, but nonetheless, I provide it here with Freinsheim inked in, showing also the usual route through Paris to Le Havre, in order to demonstrate how the French port of departure made sense geographically. It also made sense politically. Many young men who left snuck out of the country, since they were liable for military duty in the Bavarian-controlled Palatinate of the day. It seems the French were willing to look the other way when it came to the paperwork. Hence, consider Le Havre, France another place to look for your ancestors emigrating from southwestern Germany.

Holiday cheer

Holiday cheer is a brown paper package tied up with string. Yesterday I was delighted to receive a parcel in the mail from my relatives in Germany. I could hardly wait to open it, and the contents did not disappoint — two books about Pfälzisch (Palatinate) living, one a cookbook, the other a guide to Palatinate life.

My relatives know me well. I sighed with happiness. At first glance, I worried about the cookbook. When Tante Inge tried to tell me how to make Käsekuchen many years ago, much suffered in the conversion from their measurements in grams to the American cups and tablespoons. Happily, however, the cookbook offers an English translation. Now I have everything in front of me, step-by-step instructions on making the traditional “Palatine stuffed pig’s stomach” and “Blood Sausage.” Phew!

The other book is a campy, cartoon-style guide to Pfälzisch variants (deviants?) on the art of German living. Dialect, sense of humor, and quirks brought to life by three characters: a pretzel roll, a wurst sausage, and a bottle of wine called Weck, Worscht & Woi. A perfect guide with which to ring in 2012. Danke vielmals, Familie!

German customs: first names

There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the repetitive nature of first names in my German ancestry.

For example, I have ancestors named Johann and ancestors named Johannes. Both male. What’s the difference?

In the mid-19th century, just about everyone had the name Jacob or Philipp. The preponderance of Elisabethas, and Katherinas, and Margarethas is also striking. How did they tell one another apart?

Furthermore, if a baby died in infancy, why was the next one given the exact same name? I would not be inclined to name a child after one who had died. Call it superstition, or a painful reminder of unutterable grief, but in my 21st century reality, it seems a bad idea.

And why did I find Philipp Heinrich Handrich in the 1850 census under Henry Handrich. Why didn’t he go by his first name of Philipp?

Recently I came across a family genealogy write-up that referenced German first name “patterns.”

“The first son is named after the paternal grandfather.
The second son is named after the maternal grandfather.
The first daughter is named after the maternal grandmother.
The second daughter is named after the paternal grandmother.”

But that’s not all. Check out this article by Charles F. Kerchner, Jr., at 18th Century PA German Naming Customs. Apparently, until about the 1870’s, often every male in a family was named after the same saint (for example St. John, St. George, St. Philipp). Hence, it was generally their second first name by which they were differentiated. Kerchner also enlightens us on the difference between Johan and Johannes (Johan coming first refers to St. John. Johannes is the name John, and normally is the second first name.)

With enough information, this system could even offer clues to names of ancestors not yet uncovered.

The Freidenker

I was ferreting around the Internet looking for, among other things, quotes by Benjamin Franklin about German immigrants, and I came across a write-up at Dialog International. The things Ben Franklin thought and said are at this post on the site. The post begins with the statement: “Immigrants to America have always been feared and hated.” It’s striking, isn’t it, how political turmoil regarding immigration spans the centuries? Newcomers are consistently the outsiders. Gotta get a handle on that (rather than, for instance, a wall).

Meanwhile, the Dialog International site where I found the above post intrigued me. The tone is rational, clearheaded, and humanitarian in scope. I clicked on about me and learned the blog theme is: “Free thinkers who are interested in cross-cultural dialogue.” The term “Free thinkers” triggered a memory. The word Freidenker, freethinker, is generally synonymous with “atheist.” Back in the 1830s and 1840s, this rationalist perspective was also prevalent in the rural village of Freinsheim, according to writings of the then-pastor Johann Georg Bickes. In a description of his parish, Bickes wrote of: “a pernicious spirit of unbelief… Here, as everywhere, there are those who are led astray by false enlightenment, following their own arrogance. They do not pay attention to the word of God, and are infected by the pernicious spirit of unbelief and frivolity, of carelessness, of arrogance and contempt of divine laws.”

Further investigation led me to this statement in the German-language Wikipedia: “Freidenker sind im heutigen Sinn Menschen, die sich an wissenschaftlichen Erkenntnissen orientieren und zu einem nichtreligiös geprägten Humanismus bekennen. … Freidenker bestehen zwar auf ihrer Unabhängigkeit von Glaubensregeln wie Tabus und Dogmen, beziehen sich aber ausdrücklich auf ethische Grundsätze von Freiheit, Gleichheit, Toleranz und Gewaltverzicht.” [Translation]: “In the modern sense, Freethinkers are people oriented to a non-religiously influenced humanism based on scientific findings. … Indeed, Freethinkers insist on their independence from religious rules, such as taboos and dogmas, relying instead on the ethical principles of liberty, equality, tolerance and nonviolence.”

Historically, in the 1840s in the Bavarian Rhineland and surrounding areas, Freethinkers were German intellectuals who wished to overthrow their religious and political autocracies in favor of a constitutional democracy. These men read Thomas Paine, author of “Common Sense,” “The Rights of Man” and “The Age of Reason,” a man who also inspired humanitarian zeal in America’s founding fathers. When the 1848 revolution was suppressed, many German intellectuals emigrated (or were forced to flee). In Cleveland, Ohio, ex-patriated Germans formed a Society of Freemen and beginning in 1853, held an annual Thomas Paine celebration.

In a Wikipedia entry on Freethought, I found the following: “[German 1848er immigrant] Freethinkers tended to be liberal, espousing ideals such as racial, social, and sexual equality, and the abolition of slavery.” What followed was a short-lived but heartening “Golden Age of Free Thought.”