All of us at one time or another need or desire information about our families, past and present. This information is rarely readily available because it is not an easy task to record it in a simple and concise form.

Realizing the lack of and also the need for records of this type, Louis A. Daehler and I originated the idea of compiling a genealogical work dealing with the Daehler family. The plan called upon him to handle the translation of the autobiography of his great-grand- father and upon me to compile the genealogy of that gentleman’s descendants.

Much effort has been expended in the formation of this book. The great variety of tasks involved, however, has made the labor of compilation enjoyable as well as informative. Numerous relatives and friends have completed questionnaires. Cemeteries have been visited, and tombstone inscriptions have been copied. Newspaper files have been searched. Court and church records, public and private library resources, and the pages of family records have been the objects of close scrutiny and study. A voluminous correspondence with relatives, genealogists, clergymen, public officials, local historians, and translators of the German language has been carried on.

It is impossible to cite on a page or two every instance of time, effort, and energy that has been spent in research, in investigation, in gathering information, in checking items for accuracy, in selecting the portions for inclusion in the final work, in assembling and organizing the material in an arrangement deemed most suitable, in writing, in proof reading, and in the correction of errors in the written results before submitting the final product for publication.

It took patience and perseverance to complete this task. Louis’s pride and interest in his heritage remained an inspirational drive for both of us. It is a matter of deep regret that he did not live to see our venture completed. He passed away in his Porterville, California, home on May 21, 1975. It has remained for me to assemble the work in final form and to present it for publication.

I know that he would want me to reiterate our gratitude to three volunteer collectors who so ably assisted us: his sister, Mrs. Fay H. Reitzel of Sterling, Ill.; and his cousins, Mrs. John G. Doden of Chadwick, Ill., and Mrs. Roy E. Schiefelbein of Wichita, Kansas. There are so many others who did so much that it is impossible to mention each and every one by name. To each of you go our sincere thanks. Without your assistance this book would not have been possible.

In dedicating this book to the memory of LOUIS ALBERT DAEHLER, I truly hope that these studies may be a source of pride and personal treasure to you. May you, in the spirit of the recent research and publications regarding the history of Carroll County, Illinois, say with the psalmist:

"My lines have fallen in pleasant places; Yea, I have a goodly heritage." (Psalms, 16:6)

On a warm, sunny day in June, 1897, we walked, we Daehlers, along a woodland path that wound among the trees, over a little plank bridge, and up to a clearing at the top of a hill. Here a company of friends, many of them from far away, were gathered to pay last honor to him whose body we were that day committing to the earth. On our way we had passed the vineyard that he had planted and tended, and the little rustic seats that he had made under the trees.

The minister said the solemn words of the burial service; and as the casket descended, the assembled company sang one more good last hymn: EIN FESTE BURG IST UNSER GOTT. As the rich German voices echoed against the wall of forest trees about the clearing, the noble words and the incomparable music of the hymn seemed to give assurance that all was well. For like his ancestors before him, Johann Konrad Daehler was a builder; and his building was good.

Often my mother had spoken of a manuscript that Grandfather was supposed to have left, an autobiography. Often we had wondered what might have become of it. It was not until some time in 1925, twenty-eight years after his death, that his granddaughter, my cousin, Dorothea Smith, found it in a box among some miscellaneous things in a barn. Dora sent the manuscript, consisting of two red covered notebooks, to me in Colorado Springs. I at once put it into typescript, and sent copies back to Illinois, where they were circulated among those who were interested.

Now that another generation of descendants is growing up, most of whom do not read German readily, it seems desirable that an English translation should be prepared. For this reason I have undertaken the task.

But there is another motive: it has been fascinating work. Part of my interest naturally is grounded in a sentiment of love and respect for the memory of my grandfather. In addition there is the interest in what now may be regarded as a first hand historical document. The many technical problems that have arisen in the work of translation have been a constant and inspiring challenge to my quite inadequate knowledge and skill.

Obviously the translation has many faults. The best I can claim for it is that I have tried to be faith- ful to the letter and to the spirit of the original. I have taken few liberties with the text. Obvious misspellings I have corrected, always noting the original. Grandfather’s manuscript is convincing testimony of the older systems of pedagogy. He was often beaten, he says, for poor handwriting, but never for orthography; and he misspells orthography! His handscript at age seventy- two was like copper plate, and is clear and legible after fifty years. The punctuation of course had to be brought into conformity with English syntax. I have sought to render the simplicity and honesty of the original text. What interest there is in the text is owing to the character and intelligence of the author; the weaknesses I fear must be attributed to the translator.

The world, or I would like to say, the entire human race, has a history of which different incidents and events of various periods of time have been gathered together by intelligent men. These are of certain value to posterity if they are written down in their true meaning and without prejudice. So also a nation; a city; a village, yes even the individual human being, has a history that could be of importance to his posterity, even if it be only to satisfy curiosity.

I have been in contact with the world for almost seventy-one years, yes even to know the customs of two continents. This has caused me to write my so-called autobiography. This means only my personal experiences as far as I am able to remember them, for the curiosity of my children and grandchildren.

In the village of Freienseen, near Laubach, in the Grand Duchy of Hesse-Darmstadt, Germany, I was born the sixth of February, 1811, as an illegitimate child. My mother was the daughter of the master tailor Heinrich Benzel and his wife, Margretha. My father was the son of the master carpenter Jacob Daehler; he was named Johann Kurt Daehler.

My father was by summer a carpenter, and in the winter time a wood cutter in the count’s forest. Here many hundred cords of word were made into charcoal for the smelter works at Friedrichschutte, near Laubach. This wood had to be restacked during the summer so that it would be usable for the coaler to put on the wood pile. There was extra income for the workers who, in those days of Napoleon and his wars, were unable to find work at their trade. Thus it was for my father. He received twelve kreuzer for each cord of wood restacked. From this income he would give his parents, with whom he lived, three gulden; and the rest he spent on his little son and his son’s mother.

I did not find out that I was born illegitimate until I was seven or eight years old, and could read and write. By accident I found papers in a box of my father’s. Among them was a receipt from the treasurer of the parish about the payment of three gulden fine for this offense against the church.

Apparently, according to his notations, Father paid for his military situation. Whether or not his name was to be taken off the list of recruits was to be decided by two delegates of the county government; they determined whether or not he could be exempt. At that time every young man, up to his twenty-sixth year of age, had to appear once a year on a certain date at his county seat for re-enlistment. Only those not needed at home had to become soldiers; and those who were needed could return home, but had to appear again next year.

Judging my father’s character, he must have arranged his marriage with facility because I do not remember my parents' marriage ceremony or wedding; and I do have memories that go back further than my second year. From then on I know only that we lived together: Father, Mother, and I, with grandfather Benzel. My grandmother Benzel had died when I was two years old; that I remember very well.

I grew up a very high spirited and happy boy. After I passed my fourth and started my fifth year, this wantonness was slowed down by the school and by the spinning wheel with which cotton was spun. I had to try to earn my bread by spinning cotton; this was fun at the beginning. As soon as I developed some ability, Mother increased the quantity of yarn to be delivered. Because of this compulsion, spinning sometimes became a nuisance, especially when I heard other children sled riding or playing at other things. Often different means of encouragement to spin were sought. For instance, I could take my wheel into a neighbor’s house and spin in the company of several boys and girls; even though sometimes, as it is with children, spinning would be forgotten for a game. Then I could not accomplish my task in time, so I would either feel the switch or was not allowed to go to bed before accomplishing my work. Also my lessons for school had to be learned. Had I been busy during the day, in the evening I was allowed to visit my friends and have fun.

On the other hand, my father was more strict concerning my lessons for school than my mother was about my spinning. He was proud that his son was, in general, an outstanding, eager pupil. He probably took a lesson from his own school life, for he did not attend school regularly. Therefore he could neither read nor figure well; only the reading of printed writing went fairly well for him.

During the summer the variety of my occupations was more than I liked. The spinning could not be stopped since it helped to supply domestic needs. Since at meal time the food had to be cooked, one needed firewood. Several days of the week were set aside to gather wood in the count’s forest and carry it home; this I also liked to do in company. Very often Mother went with us, as this was not looked upon as theft. When one was caught by the forester, one sometimes would be reprimanded and other times not. The degree of punishment for my small load of wood was: for the value of the wood, 3 kreuzer; for getting caught, to the forest warden went 10 kreuzer; making a punishment of 13 kreuzer. There is no doubt that I was caught about once a year. If we boys climbed up in the trees and knocked down the dry wood, we would be punished more severely. If one were caught and held by the forester, he would be treated to an additional whipping as a warning. I learned the saying "far away is good for the shot." I did not wait for him even though sometime I had to leave my wood behind.

Furthermore Father had bought a goat so that we would have the necessary milk. Butter we did not need. For this goat I had to supply the necessary summer feed. Every day in the evening I would gather in a basket as heavy as I was able to carry greens and branches from hedges and those places where no property owner would suffer damage.

All this happened after school hours. The division of the day was as follows: in the morning from seven to ten o’clock - school; from ten to five o’clock in the afternoon - get wood two or three times; from five to seven o’clock - get feed and feed the goat; then one hour of rest; and finally, before going to bed, memorizing for school such things as Bible verses and the small catechism by Luther. A task of writing and figuring had to be taken care of in the morning before school. Writing and figuring were much fun, but I did not have enough help at home to learn easily. When the teacher reviewed my writing books, I often received punishment for not writing neatly. Punishment would consist of a whipping, or one had to hold out his hands. The teacher would then hit with the suitable ruler three or four times in the flat of the hand, changing from right to left.

I never received a whipping because of poor spelling; spelling I found fairly easy. For figuring, however, I had a special talent; and this was increased by my father in a special way. He could not read or figure well, but he had found out that a neighbor owned an arithmetic book by which one could learn figuring through self study. The author was Z. P. Lechner. This book Father obtained through purchase. When he came home from work in the evening, he usually would busy himself until midnight studying this book; and he succeeded well enough to become my teacher.

The school teacher was no Pythagoras and no magician in arithmetic. He found himself checkmated against me in this respect. When I once asked him for an explanation of an arithmetic problem, he said to me that he could not figure that out himself. The text out of which he transferred problems to the student’s papers showed only the problem and the answer; the main thing, the method itself, was not there. His entire arithmetic method was to the rule of three and referred itself to business interest and bills of exchange. I would have liked to have known more about all arithmetic methods, but my father’s Lechner did the same thing.

When I was six and one-half years old in the year 1817, our family was enlarged by a pair of twins: my brother, Johannes; and my sister, Katharina. The first of these died of dysentery when he was nine months old.

Now came the time when my mother’s brother, who was my godfather, wanted to marry. This involved an apartment for the couple. My grandfather, Heinrich Benzel, to help this matter along, fixed a price for his dwelling, which included a stable and a small garden. He turned this over to his two children, who had to draw lots. The lots brought the son the home for my grandfather’s price. Now our family was without a home, but my father soon found a splendid opportunity for a new home. In the center of the village the widow of Martin Immelt, a shoemaker, with two grown children, had a home. One half of it was dwelling house and the other half a barn. She was so much in debt and without money to pay interest that the home was sold by forced auction. As no buyer was found, the mortgage holder, Johannes Jung, a baker, took it as his property. Some time later it was offered to my father to buy by the new owner. He took it as a dwelling for his family. Father could only pay part of the price as a down payment; the rest remained as capital held by the creditor. We then annually, on St. Martin’s day, paid the interest of five per cent. The new home, before we could move in, had to undergo repairs, which, under the circumstances, put my father to great expense.

Under these circumstances so many February sixths went by that I soon had my twelfth birthday, at which time I received praise for being an eager pupil. The boy had not lost much of his high spirits in spite of the fact that he had sat like he were tied to the spinning wheel and was then allowed to have fun with the other youths at the usual playgrounds. Here I felt like the devil had broken the chains.

Here I will go back a little and tell a suitable story. My twin brother and sister were about two months old, lying in their cradle in the evening sleeping. My mother was outside at the well or busy somewhere else. I, who had to rock the cradle, became extraordinarily impatient and rocked so hard back and forth, or up and down, that the cradle turned over and its appurtenances were on top of them. Now the worry about the little twins, and even more about the whipping which followed such an act regularly, caused me to cry. This reached my mother’s ears, and she came running in. As she worked the little ones out, it was discovered that they had been protected by the feather bed that served as a cover and there was not the slightest injury to the twins. Mother threatened that when Father came home from work on Saturday, I would be punished. This was for me a very sorrowful week, but Father was very kind and happy when he came home and found his family well. How could he punish me then? In spite of this, I was used to, after receiving a whipping at school and he had learned of it, receiving another one when I arrived home.

My punishment did not relate to neglecting my lessons, but rather to not being quiet or to some boyish tricks. Since our school had a heavy enrollment, sometimes as many as 180 pupils, our teacher had a lot of work. My humble self was employed by the latter as a helper. This was an advantage to me because it impelled a more serious mood.

My father made, during winter evening, those little machines with which to spin cotton, for others to buy. I had learned enough to be of help to him, and could make ready, without his supervision, the small spindles necessary for those machines. Those wore out easily and often broke while spinning. I soon found this a steady occupation that freed me from the distasteful spinning. During the summer, when not as much spinning was done as during the winter, I was not fully occupied. However, so as not to be chained to the spinning wheel and to fill in the space between school hours and the gathering of firewood, I soon found another opportunity. I had made a spray gun that the bee keepers used to spray water on swarming bees. This instrument was liked by the boys in the village; therefore, many orders for them were made. I built one fifteen to sixteen inches long; this earned for me from six to eight kreuzer.

Each time, while drilling a three quarter inch hole, I broke out in a sweat. I sometimes drilled crooked or sideways; then new material had to be sought and the work started over. This did not discourage me. I soon found another piece of wood as an ordinary beech tree branch was suitable for this. Work went on through one summer. Then there were fights among the boys, splashing one another with water. Parents did not look at this fun as being good any longer; and this brought about the end of my industrial branch. Sometimes things happen in this world that lead to trouble on one side but on the opposite side bear many benefits. So it went with me.

In our village there were many old houses that had chimneys or smoke stacks framed out of wood and covered with straw and clay on the fire side; some were so covered on both sides. It happened that a county administrative official, named Scheurermann, made his annual trip for general visitation and inspected all the chimneys. They appeared to him to be fire hazards, even though some were from two to three hundred years old. He issued a new order that by a certain date all of the old wooden chimneys were to be replaced by new ones made of raw clay brick on the inside and also on the outside above the roof. Formerly that part had been made of straw or baked clay.

These mentioned dwellings were mostly in the possession of underprivileged people. The proposed changes caused them many worries. Many of them were poor farm people; and they did not always own their own dwelling but rather lived there as tenants.

By the clay pits was started the fabrication of the bricks, with dimensions four inches by eight inches and two inches thick. I noticed this and thought that there could be wages for me there. I did not want to spin any longer. I asked my parents for their permission to do this. To my pleasure they agreed. A wheelbarrow and shovel were borrowed. The forms I made myself. Many of the boys of my age started this kind of work, whereby we became involved in a competition. We formed a company, and supplied those on the building site at the cost of ten kreuzer per one hundred bricks.

No one was permitted to request less money. On that we had agreed. A dairyman, Johannes Hauffman, gave me my loads of straw without my having to pay him cash; while I, for instance, on rainy days repaired for him ladders or dung boards or other things that were faulty.

To bring improvement to the fabric of the plant I made myself a double form so that each stroke brought two bricks instead of one as before. Every one of them wanted to have such a form. This work fell upon me. I received 12 kreuzer for each form. The worst part of our work was to get the final material to mix with the clay, the waste of the broken flax or barley straw. We were even forced to gather the needles of the fir trees or of other pine tress and mix them in.

In spite of all of this work, school was not missed by anyone. Perhaps there would have been some who would have been tempted to stay out of school had there not been a whipping by the teacher to be expected. The teacher, however, was inclined to protect our work; and no pupil was allowed to damage our projects even in mischief. Our teacher was named Daniel Volkmar; and in his youth he had learned the tailor trade. The teaching position had been inherited by him from his father. The worst time for us as pupils was to have to appear in church on Sundays. The church was a great building of stone, without heat; hence, in the section for pupils we were after several hours so cold that it became just like an ice house. As a six or seven year old boy sitting there for so long often caused me to cry out aloud because of the pain in my feet.

Our teacher would not have taken the missing of church because of the severe cold as seriously as my father would have. I did not dare to miss nor even plead with him about the matter. He never missed church himself. I remember that in the summer time, when I was about six or seven years old, he took me Sunday afternoons and ordered me to follow him on a walk. We went into the woods where we both were by ourselves. Usually we went to a hill south of the village where there was a beautiful view. There at first would be repeated the questions of the minister from the catechism. Then, as far as his knowledge could comprehend, he analyzed the work of the creation; and I learned of the greatness of the Creator.

Sunday was the only day in the summer time when my father was permitted to join his family. During the rest of the week he was employed as a carpenter out of town in a little village, Gonterskirchen, about an hours journey to the south of our village. There all the inhabitants were charcoal burners and were carrying on this business in the following way.

At that time the wood in the great forests of the Count Solms zu Laubach was of little value. The village sat in the forest like an oasis. These people now, who also did a little farming, bought land in those woods and in an advantageous district were cut several piles of wood. The forest was composed of beech trees only. One would aim to be in good standing with the forest ranger and then start to prepare the wood. During this time one looked around. Perhaps he would be lucky enough to find many dead trees and other shrubbery that when taken away would not be detrimental to the forest. In this manner at that time the coaler used to his advantage three times as much and more wood than he paid the count for. The charcoal was sold to blacksmiths within a radius of from fifteen to twenty hours journey.

Once I talked about this subject to a very old man, Kurt Lind. He said that the trees did not bloom any more, and then told me: "Several years ago I was coaling with several helpers at Hupp, over there near Huppelsberg. I had bought a quantity of wood and worked there the whole summer and into the late autumn. I was punished at the forest court at Laubach with a three hundred gulden fine. In spite of that I wish for myself wages and earnings like that every year." With this kind of business these people were well off; and therefore much was being built in their village. It was to become the sphere of action of my youth.

Under the above circumstances the days were spent between joy and sorrow. I had become fourteen years of age; and the time for confirmation had arrived. School would be finished; and for me a more serious life should begin. In school I had taken first place during the last two years; proof that I had been an eager student. My teacher and my parents were proud; as a rule children of wealthy people held that place.

In addition to all of the work and studying my school lessons, I always found time to catch and raise birds. This, my father always allowed; and it pleased me that he did. I was not allowed to misuse the privilege however. It gave Father much joy, when in the wintertime I caught several chaffinches. In the spring each of these within his usual large cage would compete with one another. Larks, starling, and blackbirds I raised from fledglings. The latter could be taught whistling while the starling is inclined to mock you. Once my father taught a blackbird the tune of the song, "My mind is filled with joy, Jesus, when I think of you."

All of those boyish things were on the day of my confirmation, Whitsunday; 1825, looked upon as ended. It has since that time never entered my mind to catch a bird. There was more important work to be done. The number of candidates for confirmation at this time was about 24 or 25, led by Pastor Georg Frank.

It was determined by my father, and it also was my wish, that I should become a carpenter. I had looked forward to this for a long time. At that time there was a rule with us and in the surrounding area that each trade should be handed down within a family. So it was with us, because of my great grandfather, who had been a carpenter in his hometown of Wohnback in the Wetterau.

It so happened at this time that in our village there was a man Johannes Jung. In Barthels Haus a two story barn was built for him by my father, his brother, and their journeymen. It was ready for assembly and was scheduled to be raised the Wednesday after Whitsunday. Naturally I found myself on that spot and helped as much as I could. By the way, I took care of the hammering of the wooden pegs. All went well. In a short time the upper floor was raised. Just as the ridgepole was about to be put into the rafters, I realized that the man who was holding the end had lost his courage and was trembling. I sprang over to help him. At the same moment he let the pole drop on my head. We both fell, the pole and I, through the frame; and someone picked us up off the ground. I had not suffered much except that around my left eye I had been skinned and bruised. My father believed that I had lost my interest in the carpenter’s trade; and he thought that I might be interested in another business that would be less dangerous. I did not lose my courage. My injuries were not yet healed when one could see me work with my father’s brother, who was also my godfather, at the workshop swinging an axe.

The two brothers worked together, but my father always took the rougher and heavier work at strange places. His younger brother, Konrad, made things a little more comfortable for himself working in our home village if work could be found there. To allow me to enjoy some of these conveniences my father left me to work with his brother. Father thought that he was doing me a favor, but in that he was mistaken. Even though he was very strict in dealing with me his father’s heart was considerably closer in understanding me than was his brother’s. My uncle treated me according to his frame of mind and without personal interest.

Before I go on to the second period of my life, or the second chapter of my story, there is still a question to be answered. What had I really learned in school? I had studied reading, writing, and arithmetic. Furthermore, I had learned by heart: first, Luther’s catechism; second, the small catechism plus several hundred added Bible verses; third, one hundred and four stories from the Bible as told by Johann Hubner; fourth, thirty and more of the psalms of David; and fifth, a number of songs out of the old Marburger song book; also some geography was studied without the use of maps, and singing was studied, not by note or voice training but by ear. Oh, how I loved to sing and still do to this day!

The writing that I had studied could only be called copying. A letter of my own I could not write. I could not even think for myself because everything had to be grasped according to regulations and in pattern. In addition to that all of the learning by rote smothers one’s own thinking. One who was proud of the little he knew, however, learned to take advantage of each opportunity to enrich his store of knowledge, or better yet to add still more to that that was once learned. There was a kind man in our neighborhood, by name Dickel, who had formerly been a captain in the standing army. He was quite an elderly man and had had much experience. If anyone of the poor people in the surrounding villages, as well as those in his home town, had a problem that required a petition to the administration or government or as a supplicant to Count Solms zu Lauback, this man would be taken advantage of; and the paragraphs he had written would be copied. Because officials everywhere came to recognize his handwriting, he used to have me write instead. He did not take any payment himself, so naturally there was not any remuneration in it for me either. I counted myself paid sufficiently because I was enabled to learn something about governmental procedures through doing the work. I learned thereby to write a letter that I did not have to be ashamed of.

During the first two years, namely 1825 and 1826, my apprenticeship in the carpentry trade was mostly repair work on old buildings. In Gonterskirchen in the spring of 1826, however, a new barn was built by the elder Hannes Kloze for his daughter and her husband. There was other work in that village including additional work on a dwelling that had originally been built by my father for David Graf in 1819 and that had not yet been occupied. First stairs were made. One oak log had been held back, and it had to be cut by my father, his brother, and me into suitable boards. It was rather cold and was late in the fall; still we were sweating. The log had been cut several years before and had dried in the sun; this made it hard to cut in spite of all our effort. This marked the first time that I had secretly cried during work because it was too hard and sour for me.

Anyone who would like to judge this kind of work should do it with his own hands first. He would have to convert himself into a saw mill. Before one can stand the work, it has to become a habit. It was worse in the morning at four o’clock; then I was wakened in the barn and bones felt as though they were being tortured. They remained quite stiff until I had been cutting again for a while; this warmed up the body and by and by everything went the usual way once more. In short the function of the body as a machine was regained.

At seven o’clock we were called for breakfast; one did not wait to be called a second time. Eating was always done in a hurry; and no rest was taken. At noon dinner was served; and at three-thirty coffee was served; the latter was mixed with chicory bark and some bread was eaten with it. In the evening about nine o’clock, when the first star was seen or the mark on the block that was being cut could no longer be seen, we called it a day. Supper was then eaten; and fifteen minutes later one was asleep in the hay.

This hard work was used by my father as a means to gain customers and employment. Labor at that time was too cheap to be competitive with the requests for work. Naturally wages were very low. When we worked by the day for wages plus meals, the master carpenter received 24 kreuzer, the journeymen 16 to 18 kreuzer, and I was paid 8 to 10 kreuzer. The food was the usual farmer’s meal, meat being served two or three times during the week.

During this time there was for our family a very depressing period of three years. My sister, Katharina, fell ill with a disease that was not known in our part of the country. It began in the late fall of 1825; and at first we believed the disease to be the falling sickness or epilepsy. She threw her body on the ground and her arms and legs would strike out in all directions. All her muscles would move out of control. Her tongue would be cramped and she could not speak. In short, the physical symptoms were terrible. Father believed her illness to be epilepsy. An old shepherd was called; it was said that he had been successful working cures. He tried his art without any success; and said that he could not help as it was not epilepsy. His statement was true; as we found out later.

Dr. Pfeffer, a good practical physician in our village, who had studied in Strassburg, was called in. His patient did not suffer an attack in his presence. We had observed several times before that as long as a stranger was present the symptoms would not break out. Father even took my sister to my aunt, Anna Maria Schmidt. She stayed there for some time; and while there she did not become ill until she had been there for two weeks. Then the evil came back with full force. Dr. Pfeffer wished to observe a seizure, so Mother took Katharina to him every day. Fourteen days passed before she fell ill right there. The doctor recognized it as St. Vitus dance of the worst kind, but he could not help. Dr. Kohler of Laubach was consulted without any success for a quarter of a year.

When she was in the house, the seizures raged worse. If I would sing or whistle a tune which she was able to dance we could hold back the attack for a span of two hours. It would, however, break out later with severity. The feeling that she had during the seizures was such that she believed it started in the stomach and moved from there first to her tongue and brain and then to all her limbs. The initial beginning came as a chill. Because she had a scabby head and had to keep it clean, Mother examined and combed her hair every day; sometimes against Katharina’s will.

Since no doctor had been-able to help, we resorted to quackery and witchcraft; this took all of our earnings and we had to go into debt. Luckily the nights were quiet, but as soon as day broke the evil returned. Often our patient would tell us on awaking how many times during the day she would not feel well; her count was always correct.

It was worse when all the members of the family were at home. My grandfather Benzel was often alone with her. Even though he no longer made his home with us, he often stayed in our home. Then the attacks would happen only three or four times during the day. Through several unusual phenomena the evil could be driven away for a short time. At the beginning of her illness my sister was eight years old; and she had undergone the above circumstances for two and one half years.

At this time Dr. Pfeffer was visited by a good friend and colleague of his, Dr. Biederkopf. He had taken part in Napoleon’s invasion of Russia, serving as regimental physician; and had gained great knowledge. Our doctor told his colleague about the illness of my sister and supposedly had a consultation with that other doctor about her. Father was sent for, and was given instruction concerning future treatment. The patient had to take for three months three tablespoons of glaubers salt per day. This was not effective at first, but nature changed and the desired laxative took effect.

With all these aversions my sister complied for a quarter of a year, not without strong measures being taken by my father from time to time. She continued to take medication; and the illness began to decrease in occurrence from day to day until after two months it disappeared almost completely. We were not allowed to discuss the illness with her for several years. When she was reminded of it she showed signs of impatience but the seizures never happened again. She is still living in Chicago; and is in her sixty-fifth year, very healthy. I should not have dwelled on this incident so long, but the unusualness of the disease has caused me to do so.

The year 1827 saw a lot of building being done in Gonterskirchen. Father undertook to build two new farmsteads, each with a dwelling and a barn, one for Johann Konrad Graf and the other for Johannes Lind. The buildings were made from oak logs that we had to cut; even the roof rafters had to be cut from one or more oak logs. The wood was cut in the community wood lot. When the logs were cut, they were trimmed on four sides and measured in cubic feet. Cost was three or four kreuzer. This price was very cheap. During this work and the completion of numerous other repairs, summer came to an end. In the late fall a community bake house was built, but I did not help to finish this completely.

Father let me make at home the machines with which to spin cotton. To speed up the completion of the ones ordered, Father came home in the evening to help me get the work done. In the morning he would return to Gonterskirchen and worked on the bake oven until it was completed. By Christmas, I had, with my father’s help, made thirty-five spinning wheels at forty kreuzer each. Every two days I finished one. After Christmas we became wood choppers again.

About this time Father bought a T square from Frankfurt, made a new drawing board with attachments, and told me that the time had come for me to learn how to make a drawing. He had purchased a book, Berger’s KNOWLEDGE OF BUILDING, that contained formulae, building lessons, and information about the different ways of measuring. The lessons in this book I grasped quickly. I enjoyed figuring. I could not, as other teen agers, go out and have fun. I would have liked to have done so, but my father always determined the time allotted for study and that always came before play. I had to go to church twice on Sunday. Often after church service I was able to join the group; first I had to solve problems dealing with square or cube root.

To get drawing lessons in our village was most difficult. We did not have the means for me to study in other places. Even my wages were necessary for our domestic needs. Fortunately a journeyman, a mason by the name of Martin Boning, came to us from far away. He had worked several years in Frankfurt am Main and had taken lessons in drawing from an architect named Strobel. Strobel had gone with Napoleon to Egypt as a building and landscape inspector. Boning had been able to study with that man right there in Frankfurt and had mastered all the drawing necessary in his chosen trade. Boning, who was unmarried, spent much time with my uncle; my uncle’s wife was born Boning, and the man was her brother.

My father agreed that Martin Boning would give me drawing lessons as often as possible. I was now cut off from all boy’s foolishness. During the day I became a wood chopper and in the evening a drawing pupil. In this work I did find pleasure; and my friendships outside the family were almost forgotten because of my schedule. I was, in fact, proud to be learning something that others who were my equals had not been able to study. I did not regard myself as being better than they. During the first few evenings, in the presence of my teacher, several drawings had to be copied. This gave me practice to help me understand the handling of the drawing instruments. This I soon understood. He often brought me something different to study as an example; then I did not see him for a week or so.

Since Boning was still a bachelor, one could not blame him as he now was seeking a wife. This matter was soon taken care of, although he did not marry in haste. After he had found what he was looking for, he came to teach me more often; and our work in the candle light progressed quite well. On occasion I would undertake a drawing of a wooden building using my own ideas. Under these conditions, I spent the evenings drawing in the home of my uncle, Konrad Daehler, for two winters, 1828 and 1829.

My uncle was a widower, having lost his wife a year and a half previous. He was engaged to marry the youngest sister of his late wife. The marriage took place at a later date. He was not yet a master carpenter; and as long as my grandfather was alive, this was all right. In 1831 my grandfather died. His two sons, my father and my uncle, both wanted to carry on the trade on their own. One of them had to become a master carpenter, for the carpenter’s guild insisted on this.

Both brothers ran their business as partners. My father decided to leave this to become a master carpenter. At that time the office of the Grand Duke’s building master did not exist. One had only to apply for one’s mastership to the guild master; the knowledge of much theory was not necessary. Practically both brothers were fine carpenters. My uncle, however, required more time to complete his share of the work than my father did; this made him believe that his work was much better and of nicer quality. Such was not the case. He began to think that the nails he had not hammered himself were not driven correctly. This became the reason that he did not keep the journeymen as busy as they should have been.

Since it was necessary, my uncle reported to the guild master at the guild hall located in Laubach to establish himself as a master. After drawing up an agreement the guild sent two inspecting masters to observe my uncle in Freienseen. He constructed for them on paper the skeleton of a wooden farm house. When the work was done and the inspection was finished, the best was not forgotten; there was a good bite to eat and an even better drink. A contribution to the guild’s fund was made, to which my father added his share; the knighting was done; and my uncle became an honorable master carptenter. Following the completion of this act, I took the guild oath as an apprentice to my uncle. Since I had already worked for several years as a carpenter, I was released immediately and recognized as a journeyman.

In the year 1828 we had much good work in our own village. A new building for Karl Immelt, a cloth and silk dyer, was erected for his house of business; and I had much fun in working there. I had a fellow journeyman, Georg Rister; and the two of us worked together. He was several years older than I. While doing our work, we sometimes sang songs. As we were eager workers, my father did not object, for he also loved singing. The building under construction was two stories high, and consisted of two wings that were joined at right angles. The roof over these angles required two long rafters, one on the hip and one on the valley.

My uncle called on me to bring him a piece of pine wood for the ridgepole; it was to measure approximately eight inches thick and twenty-four feet long. This I was to cut square; that I did. This particular piece of wood was to be cut so that the base became an angle and really was to be the equivalent of half of a right angle. I started working eagerly. While I was working I was thinking about the matter carefully and arrived at the conclusion that all my work was for nought. Instead of being a right angle this hip rafter, for that is what it was going to be, had to be cut on a very obtuse angle in accordance with the area of both roof sections, roughly about 135 degrees. I then told my uncle, "Godfather, I think I am doing the work wrong. It should not be a right angle." "Ach," he replied, "what do you know about this? You just go ahead and do as I have told you." I stood, hesitated, and started to speak against his conviction. He nearly slapped me. I therefore kept quiet and did as he had ordered. It amused me greatly when the piece of wood that had been finished in accordance with my uncle’s instructions was found useless, and had to be discarded. The reason that I had second thoughts about the above mentioned roof section was due to my drafting work. In addition, during the year different repair work had been done in Laudenbach and in Gonterskirchen. The year 1829 was a depression year and that was the reason that farmers had nothing built. We cut boards and did minor things as they came along. My father, his brother, and I were usually able to do the work by ourselves.

During the period of the last mentioned years an incident happened that grew to be important enough to affect my whole lifetime. I do not remember the exact year in which the dwelling of the master baker Heinrich Jung was repaired. Under the old roof, we had built new outside walls. My father and journeyman from Wohnfeld, Peter Pabst, did the work. It happened one Sunday afternoon after I had come home from church that my father said to me, "I still have to get from Heinrich Jung the final part of my wages for the carpentry on his dwelling. He was not going to have the money available for me until today. Will you go there and see if you can get it for me?" The house was unfamiliar to me, and I was not acquainted with the family either. I knew who they were, but I did not look upon myself as being their equal. I was shy with them because of those feelings. I went there anyway and followed my instructions. Frau Jung and several of her five daughters were at home. The oldest daughter, Dorothea, was married.

Frau Jung welcomed me and offered me a seat. I called her Cousin Louisa; and the good woman was very friendly toward me. She gave me the money for my father. I was about to leave when she introduced her youngest daughter, Katharina, who had just written the evangelism for the Sunday catechism class. The manuscript was handed to me and I was asked to pass my judgment upon it. Louisa Jung seemed to be very proud of her daughter and of that daughter’s writing as well. I was impressed by the girl as if I had been struck by lightning. The young and innocent blossoming girl seemed like a higher creature as she stood before me and and such an effect on me that I was not able to response immediately. I soon gathered my wits about me, and praised the daughter’s writing to her mother. I had come with a quiet heart and was departing in unrest.

I was not able to understand myself what had happened to me. Love? This could not and was not permitted to be. First, I was too young, being 18. Second, public opinion in our village placed me in the class of the proletariat, whereby I did not have the right to look up to a girl who belonged to a middle class family. In general people were rated in relation to their possessions. My father was a daily wage earner. Her father owned a fine farm and had one of the best estates, plus additional capital. An alliance for love was not considered. In spite of all that I was not able to forget the incident. I met her often through mutual friends and her older sisters. I did not dare cultivate friendship for that would have created a great disturbance.

It was a custom in our village for young people to meet during the summer after working hours at a suitable place. There several folk songs were sung; and I was song leader so I dared not be absent. One of the places we met in was near the Jung home; especially on Sunday evenings boys and girls gathered there and sang until ten o’clock. It was an advantage good for me that Herr Jung was one who enjoyed good singing. In the winter, when the Jung girls and their girl friends gathered together in their home to spin, we found ourselves invited to go there at eight o’clock. Eight o’clock was the hour for all work to end. We joked a little and sang, but formal etiquette was followed. The proof of all this is that the master of the house often sang with us. He even taught me the melody of the song, "Jesus, My Bridegroom."

The year 1830 brought us much work. The main task was in Einartshausen, where the mayor, Johannes Keil, had a splendid dwelling plus a tailor shop built. This kept us busy all summer. During this year, our village, Freienseen, had severe hail storms. Fields were ruined and many trees fell. East of the village in the public field, Allaugh, two old linden trees were uprooted. Each measured five or six feet in diameter. They had withstood storms for centuries. Finally they were unable to withstand the force of the storm and bowed to great force. It was believed that those two trees dated from the days of St. Boniface. How many church services must have been held under those holy linden trees. Today this site is a market place.

The thirties offered good, even, steady work. Construction was carried on in surrounding villages; for example, in our village alone new dwellings were built by Daniel Stein, Johann Kurt Sauer, and Gottlieb Lutz. Johannes Bachmann was building a new barn. In Weikeitsheim, in Laudenbach, and in Hinartshausen, new buildings were going up and there was the usual repair work as well.

For sometime I had continued my exercises in drawing without a teacher. I had even learned geometry so that I could find an area, figure it, and then divide it according to the requirements of the circumstance. A law existed in our village that anybody who was planning to erect a building, large or small, had to obtain permission from the county office. The owner of the proposed building was required to submit a blueprint and a site location plan. This meant the drawings of the buildings as well as the location of the buildings in regard to the neighborhood and street directions. Plans were to be submitted to the mayor in duplicate. He in turn sent the drawings to county officials, administrative offices, etc. If he found the reaction favorable, the aforementioned would receive permission, at times with limited changes. The original copy remained in the official office; the other copy was filed with the mayor of the village or town involved, as a means of control. On request of the owners of proposed new buildings, I completed many drawings, blueprints, and site location plans. These always brought me a good side income. Not to waste time I often worked at night; only the laying out of the grounds had to be done during the day. For the particular correctness of this I am responsible. To work out a site location plan, already mentioned, one needed an understanding of geometry that I had learned.

The county office had issued a regulation that in Freienseen, in Laudenbach, and in Ilsdorf, young surveyors were going to be employed. Actually the surveyors did not always show up when they were needed. Because of that the mason Georg Boning and I received from our burgomeister, Johannes Jung, an offer. If we were interested in becoming surveyors, he would recommend us and then acknowledgement from the county office would follow. We, of course, agreed. We collected the necessary information and studied. We spent the winter of 1829-1830 so occupied. Both of us were well acquainted with the forest ranger, Dickel, in Laubach. I was even working in his range as a woodcutter. We convinced him that he should give us lessons for an hour or two, two evenings a week.

Our wood lot was at that time at the Wetterauerberg; and Georg Boning’s work was at the stone quarry at Kirchberg, where the new road to Schotten was built. Both of us were a full hours walking distance from the Dickel dwelling at Laubach. As soon as we ended our work in the evening we each started out separately toward the home of Forest Ranger Dickel. We did this on Tuesday and Friday nights. After our lesson was finished we started on the way home to Freienseen, usually arriving there an hour later around nine o’clock. We were able to take seven or eight lessons; and then we had to study by ourselves. Smoll’s book on basic mathematics became our teacher. In the spring of 1830 we were ordered to report to Ranger H. Nathan, who gave us the examination. About a week later we were sworn in as surveyors by County Officer Schurman at the county court in Laubach.

At this time I became eligible for military duty. I had no inclination toward the life of a soldier and could not be spared at home. My father gave 85 florin into the society managed by Ernst Emil Hoffman. This had to be done before selection. To my disgust I drew myself free. I would rather have had a strike so that the society would have furnished a substitute as the money had just been paid. The free lot was just as good.

There were at that time eleven recruits eligible for military service in our village of Freienseen. The government did not get one of them as a soldier. I list them in order:

At any rate the lots were favorable. Only Lobsack had a strike. He was represented by the society, so a substitute was furnished for him. Thanks to the saving ways of my parents and the continuous work that we had we were able to pay back the 85 florin, which we had borrowed from the widow Zooster.

Mother contributed larger amounts to our family budget as a midwife than what she had earned spinning cotton. Unfortunately it was not to be to any advantage because her arthritic condition became worse. Due to this, counting the advantages of the carpentry business, we became wealthier but not happier.

If I am not mistaken it was in the year 1833 that Johannes Dickel had a new two story house built in Freienseen. There was so much work that year that we had to split our man power. I was directed by my father and his brother to construct the above mentioned building. I was given two journeymen, Johannes Pfeiffer and Peter Mulle. This was the first new building where I was holding the position of a master and worked independently. We also gained customers in Laubach, where we kept busy half the summer doing repair work and straightening out crooked old buildings. Several journeymen were required. Father was busy with repair work in Freienseen and in Gonterskirchen.

In the year 1838 a very important chapter in my life had its beginning. I entered into wedlock with Katharina Jung. We were married on the eighth of August, 1838. I had not forgotten the incident that took place between us in the house of her father, the baker Heinrich Jung and his wife, Louisa.

That we were in love with each other we knew without having to confess it to one another. In society we met often but thought it wise not to create any disturbance. There were too many who were jealous of me, especially among her relatives. Her father did not want her to marry such a poor young man. She was his youngest daughter and his darling. Her father had become more fond of me after I impressed him through my behavior, my eagerness, and my desire to learn. The latter was in our village no common thing.

My parents did not concern themselves with my affairs. My father’s strictness demanded only faultless behavior. Once gossip had been called to his attention. Afterward he declared that he did not want his son to go begging to people where he would perhaps have to expect a hand out. Here he was very right. I inherited that characteristic from him. Yet, K knew better than any one where I stood. After I had passed my twentieth year we told each other of our love and promised that we would wait, hoping that the opportune time would come. This thought was often included in my prayers before bed time. Our time did come, slowly.

In the fall of the year 1831 Georg Boning and I had taken over our positions as surveyors in Freienseen, Laudenbach, and Ilsdorf; we sometimes organized our time during the week for this work so that our trade did not suffer any interruption. We found much to do as we had to regulate in accordance with the blueprint on file where the meets and the bounds were indicated. It even happened on occasion that we started such a task and were not able to complete it. It had happened in the past that the old surveyor found it too complicated to regulate building when the old mark stones had been lost. Instead of surveying to locate the correct points, they obligated themselves to peaceful negotiations between the parties concerned. This worked but new and different markers were set up for locations.

Measuring on such a field, we sometimes would discover that whole new bounds had been worked out on a blueprint. We were not authorized, without the permission of the owner, to make any changes; hence, it often remained the original way. At times those concerned were very cooperative in regard to drastic deviations. We in those instances were able to operate in accordance with the blueprint. This was on occasion the only way to determine site locations and to end quarrels.

Our earnings were, when we were setting markers, for the first one placed during the day, 40 kreuzer; for each one following, 6 kreuzer. When it happened that no markers needed to be placed, our fee for one days survey was 48 kreuzer. For out of town work we charged one gulden per day. If the distance were over half an hours trip, we charged 20 kreuzer additional. Transportation costs were figured when it involved a whole hour or more. Property division was paid for by the day in accordance with instructions issued by the government. We were also involved when the county court had to settle a dispute or suit of some kind that involved real estate, then a local survey was required.

Now, to return to the subject of my marriage, and to relate completely the historical circumstances. I must state that all the sisters, as well as the mother of the object of my love, were very fond of me. Only her father was still wishing for his darling a partner somewhat more endowed with worldly goods. In spite of that feeling he always was friendly toward me. It even happened that after I had worked in the field during the day for several parties, and in unison with Boning had measured meets and bounds and set markers, he sat with me especially when I came to call in the evening. He discussed with me the work I had done during the day.

If he had some carpentry work to do, he asked me to attend to it. It seemed to me almost as if he saw something uncommon. He never made me feel that I was an interference with his plans. Only once did he warn his daughter about me. Probably those who were jealous of me had their hands in that game. It was my opinion that he gave thought to it no longer. In the evening he was sometimes in such a jovial mood that we became very friendly and sang songs together. His daughter, because of formal etiquette, did not approve. He enjoyed singing even though he was nearly seventy years old.

Unfortunately he did not live long enough to be able to welcome me as his son-in-law. It was not long after those happy evenings that he became ill, had swollen feet, and showed other symptoms of dropsy. Through the wise use of medicine he did not become so seriously ill that he was confined to his bed. On the fifteenth of January, 1835, he was taken from this earth by an easy death.

He left behind a widow and four unmarried daughters. The oldest daughter, Dorothea, had been married before her father’s death. Her husband was Konrad Immelt. She had died of a brain inflammation in 1830, and left two sons, three and five years old. The second daughter, Margretha, married soon after her father’s death. Her husband was a shoemaker in Laubach, where they took up residence. She was not happy, and died as the result of a stroke believed caused by this unhappiness in 1837. She was survived by a daughter, about one and one-half years old. The third daughter, Anna Elisa, as well as the fourth daughter, Elizabeth, both married in the year 1836. Anna Elisa married Heinrich Volp, a native of Freienseen; and Elizabeth married Louis Jochem, a native of Laubach who had settled in Freienseen.

In accordance with the provisions of their father’s will, the sisters divided, with the approval of their mother, the estate left by their father. Volp and Jochem took over the management of the farm, for which they paid jointly 1400 florin. I, as their carpenter, constructed two apartments in the dwelling in town. By giving up the space that had been devoted to the bakery, much additional room was gained. By drawing lots, Volp received the front of the house on the main street side, and Jochem the part on the side street and the farm. Their mother chose to live with the Volp couple. Each decided to set aside a specified amount for the support of their mother, but she refused to accept money. Volp and Jochem both farmed; in addition each had another trade. Jochem was a cooper, and Volp operated a small oil business.

The youngest and still unmarried sister, Katharina, lived with Elizabeth. She gave to Jochem her inherited piece of property as a loan to finance his farming, and lived with them for her room and board. Thus she had a life free from worries. She earned a good income for herself as a seamstress, making many dresses for people.

She waited patiently for a suitable time for us to marry. Frequently she called at our home to visit my mother, who had been confined to her bed for three years with arthritis. My mother was the reason for my hesitation. I was considering marriage, but it did not seem to be a suitable time; and I was embarrassed to discuss the matter with my father. He was working in Gonterskirchen, and came home on Saturday evenings only. My uncle and I worked in Laubach. My sister did the housework and was my mother’s nurse. I realized that the time had come for me to make a decision. I wrote my father a letter explaining my intentions, and put it in his waist pocket along with his pocket knife. He found it there, and thus became acquainted with my wishes.

I was favored by fate. In the month of April, I fell ill in Laubach and had to return home, when I took to my bed. My sister cared for me and provided me with the necessities. I had such a high fever that I was from time to time out of my head. I would think it was cold, but would be sweating profusely. After the fever subsided I broke out with something that looked like small pox. We did not think, however, that I had that. Several days I remained in bed and saw no one other than my sister. One day she did not come at all. Suddenly my father appeared. He told me that my sister was to be married that day. Her bridegroom was Christian Lutz, who visited me in my room that evening. I shook hands with him and congratulated him as my brother-in-law.

It did not take long until my tough nature became the victor; and I recovered. Soon I was able to swing the axe once more. My sister wanted to move with her husband to live with his parents; he was their only son. I did not have to be the driving force for my marriage. My mother absolutely had to have a nurse; and no one could take over this position more suitably than the person who would let herself be called daughter by the sick woman. I now felt that I had every right to claim her as my bride. She believed herself obligated to take over the honorable but not very joyful task of caring for my mother, and was willing to do so lovingly and conscientiously.

Several months passed. My wife’s mother was informed of our intentions; and we asked for her blessing, which was not long in coming. We made our preparations; and as already remarked, we were married on August 8, 1838. My sister and her husband moved in with his parents; and my wife and I took an apartment with my parents. My sick mother showed that she was very satisfied with the care being given her by her new daughter. She was most happy that she had been able to live to see the fate of both of her children, as she only wished for their happiness.

Mother had been for over a year so helpless that she was not able, without assistance, to turn over in her bed. With every movement she cried out in pain. Gout had made her an invalid. The leg that was bent and stiff caused her the greatest pain. By continually being confined to her bed, her skin became sore. Keeping as clean as possible was the first task; and in that regard my wife was a most suitable nurse. It did not take long before symptoms of dropsy began to develop. Mother’s suffering was so great that sometimes my father and I wished for her release by death. Hearts would break in all who saw her suffering and who realized that her recovery could not be expected. Her plight continued until November 3rd of that same year; at that time she was relieved of all suffering by a peaceful death. The final moments were happy for her. As she was taking her last breath, she forced out the words, "Ach, there, my mother and my little Johannes," and she was no more.

After Mother’s death, Father did not want to maintain the household for himself. Therefore he willed me the apartment with its contents for a suitable price and reserved living quarters for himself. Since he wanted to live with me and my family, he paid for his board. The winter of 1838-1839 showed us that our apartment, consisting of a living room and bedroom on the second floor, did not provide enough room for us to live in comfortably. With my father’s approval we sold the house to August Berger, a brushmaker, for 500 gulden; and bought a two story house with a barn for about 925 gulden from Heinrich Knosp. There was room for a small garden; this was soon made and proved to be of great value to us. The dwelling was in need of repair, carpentry and masonry were required; and we started work on this almost at once. The reparations progressed so well that we were able to move in during the fall of that year. We were very happy in our new home. Father set up housekeeping for himself in an especially nice room that had a heater of its own. This had happened to him for the first time in his life.

Our happiness became even greater when my wife, on November 9, 1839, placed a little son in my arms. We asked my father to act as godfather at the christening; and he named our son Henry Jacob.

Up until now all my wishes had come true and my happiness was reaching its highest peak, when all at once a change happened that threatened my whole happiness. My brother-in-law, Christian Lutz, came down with a severe fever. My father and I took turns nursing him at night. It was at Christmas time. Dr. Steinmetz was his doctor. One day my sister came to me and complained of chills. She said that she wished that she could have one sweat and then go home. At home it was not possible for her to rest with her husband being so ill. This hit my heart, and I said, "You may stay with us." What I didn’t know was that she too had the fever; and soon my wife came down with it severely.

This time was for me the hardest proving stone. The little sprout was eleven weeks old and had to be taken from his mother and weaned since the latter was deathly ill. I, being very frightened, took care of her myself. One can imagine that I did not neglect anything and hoped for the best. My faith was with the All Powerful and the doctor; and I was not disappointed. Every second day the doctor came. He was still treating my brother-in-law, who was by then much improved. The fever had overcome both of his parents. In spite of everything that was done both of the parents died within one week.

My father’s sister, Anna Maria, and her family were also infected with the disease. She and her husband, Konrad Schmidt, along with their son, Heinrich, and his wife, were engaged in business bleaching. During the winter they wove cotton. Since it was not possible for my sister to wash at home, she took her laundry to our aunt, who took care of it for her. Thus it happened that both Schmidt men, father and son, died after being ill for two weeks; they were buried in a common grave. My aunt became ill, but she recovered. The young wife and her one and one-half year old son were also spared.

This was for me a time filled with worry and sorrow. The happiness for which I had fought so hard and reached the point where it seemed to me that it had been lost. As the bodies of the Schmidt men were taken to their final resting place and with the tolling of the church bell, I stood by the pallet of my delirious and deathly sick wife, the young mother of our baby. I took care that she should not notice the tolling of the bell, hoping to prevent her from getting upset emotionally. To my amazement Mrs. Haderer came into our doorway and wanted to watch the funeral procession pass our house. I was shocked, but luckily she took my hint and began to talk about something else. My wife was conscious but did not notice the funeral procession nor did she know about the deathers of our two relatives. My father was with my sister, who lived on the second floor and who was not very ill.

I would have liked to have hired someone to help me with the housework, but who could blame people for wanting to stay away from our house? The care of my wife and our little son, whom I had to give cow’s milk, kept me busy. In addition to that a meal had to be prepared daily, sometimes I made soup for the sick. My sister was able to eat each noon a browned flour soup, but my wife was seldom able to eat even that. I also had to feed and milk two cows; and the little sprout had to be washed and cleaned. I even washed his diapers. One of my wife’s sisters came each morning and made the bed for her. I could get some rest only when my aunt, Wilhelmina Benzel, came to relieve me of my nursing duties. I knew that I could trust her and that no negligent things would happen while she was here.

She was the one who at last found a person to work for me on a weekly basis. Anna Elizabeth Bergen was about 50. She did the cooking and the washing. Three or four weeks passed before, at last, the feverish delirium of the sick ceased. Dr. Steinmetz finally gave me the long hoped for word that my wife was out of danger. My sister was able to leave her bed. Slowly my wife was recovering. The storm was over. With quiet and grateful hearts, we again were able to look ahead with courage and faith that the guide of fate after this thunderstorm would, for a change, let the sun shine for us. My sister and the woman whom I had hired took charge of the household. When my sister returned to her home, she found her husband was much improved but still weak. Her in-laws had left her an empty room.

The winter of 1839-1840 I will never forget. Never in my life have I been so happy, after the overcoming of disease by my wife. After such suffering by any one member of the family, one really feels how the hand of love encircles with renewed power the ones who belong together. During that winter I did not do any outside work as I had enough to do at home. It still took time for my wife to regain strength enough so that she was able to take care of little Henry herself. He had been living on milk and zwiebach; and often he suffered because of the colic caused by this.

When spring came we hired a maid, who during the year, fed the cows with green fodder and did much of the necessary work around the house. During the time that my father and I had been busy taking care of the sick, my uncle had accepted, in the spring of 1940, much carpentry work. The main task was a large barn for N. N. Jochem in Laubach; at that time he was city treasurer. Also we were to build a new two story building for W. Bettelhauser to use for the soap works. There were also other things to be done in that city; for example, a two story stall for the glazier, Heinrich Kuhn. That we could call a good year!

For W. Bettelhauser’s building we had to furnish the wood. This we bought from the city of Laubach, which had a community forest in its possession where we could buy the wood at a low price. Therefore we could make good profit. Winter came and we did not have to do much outside. Instead, using the house as a workshop, we made a variety of things: stairs for the brothers Hess in Einartshausen as well as new stairs for the Turner Hannes, etc.

In the spring of 1841 we were again very busy. The Count Solms zu Laubach had on city property between Freienseen and Laubach an old brick kiln. This was to be torn down; and a new larger one was to be built on the same spot. My uncle signed a contract with the Solms building supervisor, Loffler, to complete the work. My father and I began work on it in the month of May. Uncle’s mason, Daniel Boning, and my uncle took over a large area for fire inspection. They were kept busy at this for two months; this caused them to be late in completing the carpentry work that Uncle had undertaken at the request of farmers near Freienseen and Laubach. Father was not able to help with the completion of the new kiln as he was called back to Gonterskirchen, where he had found work during the summer.

The brick kiln was left for me to finish; therefore I hired four journeymen from Laubach: Peter Laut, Christ Lober, Heinrich Feindrich, and Nicklaus Hannes, as well as two others from Sellerod: Heinrich and Johannes Rister, father and son. When I was ready to raise the building, I had my father and uncle with their journeymen to help me. This was good because very heavy pieces had to be fitted into an opening that required not only strength but was also dangerous as all of the necessary equipment could not be had. There was also a dwelling for the brick maker. The old still very useful wood was again used for the new construction. Here I found full time work with my journeymen for the whole year. Drying buildings were enlarged and improved by new racks, for which we cut the needed boards out of beech trees. The work with the exception of that on the new building was paid for on a daily basis. During the winter about fifty thousand new brick boards, each 16 inches long, 6 inches wide, and ½ inch thick were manufactured by me; and my journeymen assisted me in this. We made and planed them for one gulden per thousand boards. My father and uncle did not help us as they no longer wanted to work outside during the winter.

I also found work for the count both in his castle and on his estates in the neighborhood. In the Obersenner Hof a new fire house and jail were built; and at the administrator’s dwelling, repair work was done. With two saws, one that we used at the brick kiln and the other that we had used in the carpenter’s lot at the castle, we cut boards by hand. I still depended on my uncle, who had become a master at the guild in Laubach. For things to be right, I should have been a master myself long before this. Because of circumstances it had been postponed.

At that time all of the building tradesmen who wanted to work on new construction had to be examined, under the extant government, by a trademaster employed by the county for that purpose. I applied to take this examination in the winter of 1842 in the county building office at Gieszen. I was notified that I had to appear on the 15th of April of this year before the county trademaster, Muller, at the castle at Grunberg. Earlier I had become acquainted with a locksmith, Alles, who also had to report for the examination. I talked with him; and we found another colleague, who was a locksmith in Grunberg. The two were practicing their arithmetic. Another, whose name I have forgotten, seemed to me to be badly informed through means of stereotyped arithmetic problems. We went to the castle together; and there we found well over thirty candidates: carpenters, masons, cabinet makers, locksmiths, roofers, and coopers. The examination was only a theoretical one. The first day began with easy arithmetic problems. My two Grunberg locksmith friends were able to follow, and were invited for the next decisive day. About three fourths of all participants were sent back and invited to return for the same examination next year. I stayed in Grunberg overnight. As I imagined that critical arithmetic problems would follow the next day, I studied and practiced such problems or similar ones with the two locksmiths through the night as best we could.

Next day only a few men met. There were two carpenters, the two locksmiths, two masons, about as many cabinet makers, and one roofer from Grunberg. The latter was the best problem solver in the group. The other carpenter present was M. N. Schmidt from Munzenberg. The problems were on space and mensuration plus square and cube roots. The locksmiths, for example, were asked how many pounds of iron would be necessary for an iron gate of certain dimensions if one cubic inch of iron weighed one loten. The carpentry problems concerned tree trunks and estimating building construction costs as well as Pythagorian theorem. One question asked was to find the length of a rafter on a pitched roof by determining the square root. The reason all of these problems seemed easy to me was due to the fact that I had during the last ten years used all of them on a practical basis in my trade as well as in my work as a surveyor. My report from the county building supervisor at the end read, "good, passing." They then gave me the problem for my practical mastership; I had four weeks in which to deliver my solution.

The problem consisted of drawing a sketch of a farm building, 50 feet long, 40 feet wide, with a sketch for each of the two floors, front elevation, side elevation, as well as a sectional lengthwise and in width, scaled to one one-hundredth of true size. A model of the roof according to the newest system, one-twentieth true size was to be included. The sketches I made easily, but the model took a great deal of time. The guild at Laubach was requested to send a viewing master to certify that I had done every bit of the work myself. I had a cabinet maker prepare the wooden parts for my model at the stated dimensions; otherwise I could not have completed it within the set time. I could not totally abandon my business as that was my livelihood; and I had to keep the journeymen busy.

I was glad that I was able to deliver the material within the set time. My instructions were such that if I did not present material within the prescribed time it would be looked upon as though I had not been able to solve the problem. A continuance of the set time would have been granted had I asked for it, but I was too proud to beg and I had no money to pay. I went to hand in my completed work but did not find the county building supervisor at home. Four weeks later I received from the county administration office at Hungen the notice that my work had been received. I was told that the work was not too good. In order that I might be declared a master I had to satisfy the Laubach guild and pay to them my membership dues. I took care of this matter quickly.

No longer did I depend on my uncle; however, it never occurred to either of us to dissolve our partnership. The count’s building supervisor, Loffler, gave me so much work for the count that I was kept busy the entire year, winter and summer. During the winter boards and blocks were cut. Trees had to be cut in the forest for this, and were then brought to the carpentry shop. Transportation was supplied by the farmers near Laubach. In exceptional cases transportation was furnished by those near Obersenner and Flensinger Hof.

Cutting boards was paid for at the rate of one florin and thirty kreuzer per one hundred square feet. As every log had to be cut on four sides, four Kreuzer were added per running foot.

The year 1843 was bearing fruit in accordance with my becoming a master. The county building office in Grunberg had been set up by the government; the county building supervisor, Holzappel, was in charge. Contracts were to be issued through this office for the construction in the community of Bubenhausen of three new parishes, dwelling, barn and livery sheds through public bidding. The contractor was expected to furnish building material. The bidding was a negative one. As a result of the auction the lowest bidder was promised the contract with the condition that the county building supervisor had the right to choose anyone among the three lowest bidders.

It was arranged that the master carpenter Bast of Gieszen would make the lowest bid, 128 florin more than the estimated cost of all buildings. We entered into partnership so that Bast would take care of the dwelling, master carpenter Ilaas from Grunberg the livery, and I the barn. Oak wood for construction I obtained in the forest of the Count Solms zu Laubach; the soft wood came from Hanau. Repair work on the church was offered me by the county supervisor and I undertook to complete that. Father and I worked mainly on the barn; and my uncle worked on the church. Inflation was a problem so we, together with our journeymen, were most happy that we had regular work.

It was impossible for me to help complete the barn. I was called to Laubach to do work for the count; and I did not want to lose his business. The count intended to restore the gypsum mill and to reconstruct the whole power plant. For this the old water wheel had to be taken out and disposed of and a new one had to be constructed. It was made — about 24 feet high — from usable oak trees cut in the forest in the presence of the forest ranger. At the building site those trees were cut into boards as the task required. Meanwhile the building supervisor had employed a millwright to supervise the work, but the two of them were unable to reach agreement. The supervisor complained about this matter to me and asked if I were able to take over the work. He desired that I do this task for daily wages. I replied that I had never been a millwright, but if they would instruct me what to do, I was hoping that I would be able to do the job. He told me that several cog power wheels had to be made; and that required much thought. As he had no millwright who understood his requirements, he thought I should take over. I remained silent, thinking over what I ought to do.

I immediately went to the butter buyer in our village as he had to go to Frankfurt that week, and had him order for me from a book store a book on machine construction. He obtained and brought back with him a copy of Haindel’s MASCHIENEN KUNTE. This work became a teacher for me as well as for the building supervisor, Loffler. Work was begun. I retained several journeymen for the construction work and requested a millwright to build the water wheel. Johann Klosmiller was sent; he was born at Sellerod and had married in Lauter. I had to pay him a daily wage. The journeyman I picked for this task was Johannes Kieckhofer, a native of Eichenhain who went to America in 1846. The other fellow, Jacob Buttrow, came from Standechs, and was still an apprentice. It turned out that he was not suitable for the work. Construction lasted until winter, when one started to grind and plaster. After completion of the machinery no more work was required of the millwright. Work was still done by me; and my people continued to work at their tasks.

It came to pass that a new threshing machine operated by the water of the river Wetter, was built in Muhl Baderich, in the Kloister Arnsberg. Power was transmitted by a special water wheel through several shafts in an underground tunnel to a large barn near the gate building. There the threshing machine was constructed on a threshing floor. To complete the models of the cast iron wheels, a room in the count’s castle was prepared to serve us as a workshop. The building supervisor also employed two cabinet makers, the master Wilhelm Frank and one journeyman, who helped to complete the models. I was always busy planning and constructing the power wheels in which Loffler associated. The wheels were cast at Friedrichschutte. If at all possible we scheduled this work for winter when one preferred to keep busy in the workshop. My two journeymen, who were selected for this, took advantage of it more than I did. As soon as the building wood arrived, I believed myself obligated, along with one or two men, to help the haulers, particularly when the weather was bad. As soon as I had assembled the machine in the fall and had it in shape for threshing — the cylinder made 1600 r.p.m. — threshing was started and proved satisfactory for everyone concerned.

By now the Grand Duke’s building officials had become acquainted with the work done by my father, my uncle, and me. They also knew that we produced things of good quality. Consequently we received from the county construction superintendent a job in Ulrichstein that we undertook at the price of the pre-estimate. Due to the elimination of the tithe, one of the Grand Duke’s fruit storage buildings had become superfluous. This building was to be remodeled into a studding stable. Likewise, changes were made in the old stables. Thus it became an important job.

In February, 1844, my uncle and I went to Hanau to buy logs from the firm of Dainer Brothers. The logs were brought by wagoners from Hanau to Ulrichstein; some were to be delivered in the spring, the rest came in the winter. We subcontracted for this hauling in Hanau. I, myself, did not go along to work there. My father and uncle looked after that as I had too much to do in Laubach. Part of the time Father also worked for farmers near the various villages. My uncle, however, stayed so long near Ulrichstein on that job that he, during that same summer, took over remodeling an old building into a synagogue. The latter job had been given him by the Grand Duke’s construction supervisor, Posainer. On this job he contracted small pox, and was taken home very ill. I was good enough to finish the work that he had started. The first thing I had to do was to tear down the pillars for the choir loft. At that time I took Christian Bachman with me as an apprentice. He caught on right away, taking the task of holding and turning spoon. It took less than another two weeks and the Jewish temple was completed in so far as the carpentry was concerned.

During this time Father worked on a new residential building in Laubach for N. N. Bihauser, but Uncle was not able to do any work at all that fall. After his convalescence he became a fire inspector for the villages around Vogelsberg.

In 1845 another turning lathe, driven by oxen, was built in our workshop in the count’s Laubach castle for the improvement of the economy of the Utpher Hof in the Wetterau. There we also built in a barn a mill that was driven by a winch that in turn was horse driven. In addition to the building of these machines the remaining carpentry was finished by seven of our journeymen. Work on wooden pumps was also given me; for example, in Flensinger Hof, Otterbach and Pfardendorfgill. In the distillery at Arnsberger Kloister we also drilled the pipes. During the years 1845 and 1846 great changes and repairs were made in agricultural buildings, and particularly to the Flensinger Hof stables of the Count Solms. There I always found enough work to keep three men busy.

The mill of the Kloister Arnsberg was entirely redone in 1845. Actually the ageless gears were removed; and the mill works were geared for three milling speeds with the driving wheels to be put in motion by a large wheel. Construction was conical. We completed the work in the shop in the castle yard at Laubach and on a barn threshing floor. We put everything together and got it so far that if one were to turn the large wheel by hand all of the gears would begin to turn. By the time we brought the machine to its location, Loffler had already secured the milling stones. We were able to proceed and put everything together right there. The corona of the large wheel had a diameter of seven feet; and the shafts were from eight to nine feet long and seven inches in diameter. It took much work to get everything in its proper place. The teeth of the large wheel were made of wood; the "scheift" was three inches. It took three weeks of work before we were able to say that we were ready to start to grind. A mill supervisor by the name of Rend and a miller by the name of Zerb were employed. The latter was a married man and had a family.

While we were on the job in the Kloister, we boarded with Philip Hensel. He was a fancy dyer, and had brought all of the dyeing equipment from the Separatists who had emigrated to America. He had taken a lease from his honor, the Duke of Solms, on a building, where up until this time the dyeing business of the Count of Solms had been done. In addition to the dyeing business, Hensel ran a general store - grocery and tavern.

During this period several repair jobs were done for citizens in the town of Laubach. Upon the suggestion of the Count’s wife, Princess von Neuwied of the house of Furst von Neuwied asked us to erect a building to be used as a school for small children. The work my father did, I have partially forgotten, but I do know that he and my uncle completed various repairs in the villages of Freienseen, Laudenbach, and Gonterskirchen. Thus passed the year 1845.

In 1846 we began work on a threshing machine for the estate at Munzenberg. This we completed. We were able to use some of the models for the Utpher machine; and that saved time. During the year we built two English barns and granaries: one on the Obersenner Hof and the second toward Wernings near Gedern.

On the Wiesenhof near Ulrichstein, belonging to the director of finance, Klenze, my journeymen and I constructed a stable in 1845 and a new barn in 1846. For the aforementioned stable we used material from an old barn that had been torn down in Feldkrucken. The outside walls of the stable were of stone; and stone was also used around the barn door. Window frames were made from sandstone from the quarry of the Riedefels near Lehmehausen.

My uncle built for Christian Keil in Einartshausen in 1846 a barn and also did various jobs on the estate Clemeny Hutte. The proprietor was N. N. Daun. This estate was near Einartshausen.

On our threshing machine there was no fan mill. The next winter was spent in the Arnsberg Kloister constructing such on the local machine. What we made during that winter, however, was torn out the next winter. That is to say that during the winter of 1846-1847 we changed everything around because the first construction had not proved to be satisfactory. The second then was sufficient for the clearning of all kinds of grain.

We built for the beer brewer, Nathan, who was renting the count’s brewery, a grinding mill, driven by water wheel and gears. Attached to the gears was a small circular saw with which barrel staves were cut. At one time Nathan had agreed to deliver a load of barrels to Gieszen to be used for the manganese that a lawyer by the name of Briel had mined near Gieszen and had promised to ship to France. After the transaction had been made, the lack of transportation and the time element prevented the delivery from being made. Nathan decided that he was in need of a new saw and had one constructed. The building of the mill as well as the machine, which was to be driven by an undershot water wheel, were given to me to be carried out at the beginning of February, 1847. The building site was in the south east of Laubach on the so-called Steinbach. For this again I had to employ journeymen who could do mill work construction for I could not stay there all the time.

That winter the weather was not favorable. In March it became so terribly cold that it was impossible to work. It was not until the end of April that the building itself could be started. This was completed very quickly by our mason and roofer, but two months went by before any boards could be cut. I had my hands full with work for the count. The big job consisted in the manufacture of a load of railroad ties that had been taken over by the count’s chamberlain, Klenze. These were to be taken to Nauheim to the estate castle in the province of the elector. For this we had to fell oak trees and haul the wood. That always meant that I had to be there in order to prevent damage. We always cut continuously with three or four long saws; there was much waste, from which barrel staves were made. The staves were needed as there was a good fruit crop that year; in fact, I had never seen such an abundant crop. Some of the staves were sent to the Kloister Arnsberg.

There was much work during this year. One time I by myself had to make a special small water wheel that was used to drive the apple cider mill. One must not be surprised to learn that at the Kloister Arnsberg there were stored about 40 to 45 barrels of six ohms each of apple wine.

Regarding the delivery of the railroad ties, old oaks were felled and prepared in the districts of Eselskopf, Sheppmanduchung, Bruhl, and Birkenwald. Many trees were felled and cut that were not accepted to use of the aforementioned ties. That wood was sold in the Zimmerplatz in Laubach, part of it to the residents of the town and the rest of it to the farmers living in the neighboring villages. Buyers paid from 15 to 20 kreuzer per cubit foot. A part of the lumber had been set aside and was stored for the count’s future needs.

In the districts mentioned above not one of the old oaks was left standing as they were no longer of value. The new stand was composed of beeches of six to nine inches in diameter. At any rate this left the count with less than 20 oaks over 100 years old in all of his forest land. Those that had been cut for the ties were all from 400 to 500 years old.

During the year; major repair jobs were completed on the Neuhof mill near Ruppertsburg. Horloff’s Mill, which at that time was still the property of the count, was repaired by our mill personnel. Later the mill was sold as it did not bring in much revenue. My father’s work was in Einartshausen, where he built a house for Johannes Merker and did other repairs. In 1848 the house on the Neu-Wiesenhof estate was covered with drop siding that we had made by hand.

The price of groceries went up tremendously in 1847; because of that it seemed that a day laborer earned very little. For this reason the chief clerk, Klenze, obtained permission from the count to build a pond on the Obersenner Hof. I was to construct the lock and gate for the diversion of the water. I also built several wooden bridges and did minor carpentry work on the Holding Otterbach. A pipeline for the mash used in the distillery was made, and a pump was installed. In the winter of 1848 we repaired pig pens and other things at the Kloister Arnsberg. New flour bins were made and the old ones were repaired at the mill. In the carpentry shop at the Laubach castle we worked on a gear train for a grist mill at the Hof Munsenberg.

Due to the revolution in March the work on the Munzenberg estate was not finished. The frame and the accessories were sold to the brushmaker, August Berger, in Freienseen. I installed the machine for him; this machine worked the turning lathe and drill. To put a roof over the machine we had to build a new building close to the living quarters. In the same year the Count Solms zu Laubach had several more carpentry tasks done; those were absolutely necessary, as the living quarters for the brewer and the brewery itself had to be finished. Superintendent Loffler did everything possible to make work for the indispensable journeymen, even having the rotting boards in the horse stables replaced with new ones. Garden pots for the orangery and compost bins were made. Two barns on the Neuhof by Ruppertsburg were burned down by arsonists. Carpenters were employed to rebuild them. Out of respect the job was given to the master carpenter, A. Diehl, who lived in Ruppertsburg. While the work was being done, one man lost his life.

During this year the work being done by my father was in Einartshausen; there he made major repairs to the living quarters of Under Forester Wagner. The living quarters of the latter were in the gamekeeper’s cottage near the Kirchberg.

For some time my father had been in poor health. He had pain in his right side under his rib cage. This pain subsided at times, but eventually became worse. He thought that perhaps he had lifted something too heavy for him. A doctor was consulted and was given the above information that caused him to make an incorrect diagnosis. At last after numerous examinations the doctor determined that it was caused by a weakening of the liver. Diagnosis was made too late; and my father could not be saved. He passed away shortly before Christmas. He had been born January 24, 1788, and was sixty and one-half years old. His father, Jacob Daehler, was born in Wohnbach in the Wetterau. My father’s mother was born in Freienseen; her maiden name was Stein. The carpentry trade had been handed down in the family.

I do not remember exactly what work my uncle was doing during the years 1847-1848. If I am not mistaken he worked in Freienseen and in Sandenbanch. For sometime he was in Sellerod doing repair work. He was not able to do much carpentry because of his duties as fire inspector. He and Martin Boning did the appraising for the taxation of buildings in the county. He employed a journeyman, who did most of the carpentry.

Now I shall return to family affairs. My wife began to regain her strength; and without help was able to care for our little visitor of the world, Henry, our first child; and attend to household chores. We had much acreage and meadow land, where we sometimes had two or three cows grazing. Thus there was a great deal of work for my wife and our maid, especially during the summer. For planting we hired and paid Konrad Immelt, who was the husband of my wife’s dead sister. I left the farm management to my wife, firstly, because I did not have the time to attend to it; and secondly, I did not understand much of it well.

She and her sister, Anna Elisa Volp, had learned much about this from their father through his farming; and they felt at home. For harvesting and threshing we hired day laborers, who were always available. Our son, Henry, grew, much to our joy, to be a strong child even though he never had mother’s milk. In the winter of 1841 he suddenly became very sick. I went to Laubach in the middle of the night to get the doctor. Henry had a high fever. The doctor attended him; and in two weeks he had recovered.

On January 20, 1841, a baby girl, to our great joy, was born. She was baptised on the 31st, and was given the name Christiana. My wife’s sister, Anna Elisa Volp, and my sister, Katharina, were godmothers. The child was so weak that we did not think she would survive. She died on May 16, 1841.

It is impossible to describe how happy and contented the Sundays were in our home. My wife attended to the garden and had a variety of flowers. Since we had always lived in the middle of the village before, we had never had the pleasure of having a garden. Father and I did not come home during the week until Saturday night. On Sunday, after church, we enjoyed in happy contentment our flower garden. My wife really had much more to do than care for a flower garden, but it lay in her good nature to do so. She still does this at age 70. She and the maid had much work to do in the fields, in the vegetable garden, and in caring for the live-stock. Feed for the cows had to be mowed and carried home. After that the mown field had to be fertilized with manure. Manure was carried in a tub on one’s head; even the burgomeister’s wife was not ashamed to do that. To mow the hay and the second crop, it had to be cured. This was done by turning it many, many times until finally it was dry. She also had the loading and unloading to do. When it came time to harvest potatoes, I employed a few helpers.

So the year passed, and winter came. For everyone in the family days were filled with household duties. My wife and our maid were busy spinning, knitting, and sewing. Father made furniture: cupboards for the kitchen and wardrobes in which to store clothing. Only my humble self had to work outside. Even when the weather was bad I usually went to Laubach in the morning or into the woods to load logs. I wanted to keep all the work I was asked to do for the count; in order to do that, I had to be punctual. This became second nature to me so that I found it impossible to do otherwise.

And then came the month of May in the spring of 1842, when on the 26th of that month my second son was born. He was baptised on the 12th of June by Pastor Zockler. His godfather was our brother-in-law, Louis Jochem. The tiny infant was christened Louis Christian. The baby’s mother was well and we felt very happy. The companionship of the two little ones gave their mother much pleasure even though they brought many worries. My wife found plenty to do in the kitchen; she cooked for the day laborers who were hired for field work and for the carpenters who cut boards for me.

I established a wood shop where I could saw two inch oak and pine boards for building stairs. I also made them out of larch and birch wood. The timber I got from Count Solms. I seldom bought trees other than birch. Whenever the forester sold trees to anyone or had them cut for the count’s use, there usually was left from the cuttings timber in various sizes: for example, 10, 15, 20, or as much as 25 inches thick. This I bought for five or six kreuzer a cubic foot. They were made into fine boards for furniture. Often in the village a job would come along to make stairs; it was good to have sufficient wood on hand.

The years 1842 and 1843 passed without additional unusual happenings, other than the fact that 1843 was a year of scarcity. A simmer of rye cost six gulden. I bought the flour that we needed from the mill at Kloister Arnsberg and had it charged against my account with the Count Solms. A wagon from there arrived at the Laubach castle each week bringing flour for the officials there. After harvest we managed to get along without buying any, but were able to use our own. Our threshing was done by two hired day laborers. Our grain crop was not enough for the entire year due to the number of boarders.

Then came 1844 and again another member was added to our family. On the 3rd of August, our daughter, Wilhelmina, was born. She was christened on the 18th of the month. Katharina Benzel and Christiana Daehler were her godmothers, and they selected her name. The latter was from Michelstadt in the Odenwald; and she was a daughter of Philip Daehler, my cousin, who was chancellor of the exchequer at the court of Count Erbach, and happened to be visiting us at the time. Christiana’s relationship to me was that our grandfathers were brothers. Her grandfather, Johannes, came from Odenwald to visit my grandfather in Freienseen, where I saw them both. It was in 1823, I believe. They met for the last time in their lives; and on that occasion both of them had a good snoutful.

My wife and I were at this time at the height of our happiness with our young family, in which my father was also included. My wife inherited from her parents a beautiful meadow in Waldbezirk, about a rifle shot from the Schreiner mill. The meadow was watered from the mill race; and we were able to raise about two crops of hay and a good second crop. I bought several adjoining parcels of land, and turned them into meadow and pasture. The whole area made up ten Darmstadter morgen. We had to pay dearly for the delivery of hay. Also we had other light things to haul. Because of that my wife thought it would be a good idea to buy a light wagon and some field equipment. She wanted to employ a stronger maid so that she could attend to the farm work herself.

This proved not to be as easily done as she had thought because we had eleven or twelve parcels of land in the Ortsgemarkung. I suggested that we hire a male hired man to work by the week, but she did not want to do that. She thought that she would not be in charge when I was away from home; she feared that the hired man would take over. She and her sister had always managed the work at her parents farm; and she believed that she and the maid ought to be able to manage our place, where there was not as much work. I bought a wagon and field equipment, and had a plow and harrow made; in that regard her wishes were fulfilled. Our cows were yoked, and my wife became the husbandman.

I have had cause to regret this a thousand times. I should have employed a man and should not have let my wife have her way. In short she drove oxen and had at times to deal with wild and unruly cows. The first results showed up when on the 20th of October, 1846, at three o’clock in the morning a third baby was born. He was baptized as an emergency precaution at nine o’clock by Pastor Blumhof; the child became a corpse at eleven o’clock. My aunt, Anna Maria, gave him the name Frederick. Still it had not occurred to me that the reason for the early death was the hard work my wife was doing. It did not dawn on my mind until a similar event occurred. I believe this was in 1848. This time, however, the child was still born; furthermore, my wife developed a hernia when she lifted our plow out of a furrow. She had to wear a truss. I hoped that she now would give up driving oxen and doing the farm work. She would not do this. She rather hoped that our son, Henry, would help. He was a lively boy and had been of real assistance to his mother in handling the oxen, the wagon, and the farm chores.

The spring of 1846 was a depressing and sorry one for us. Both of our boys came down with a skin rash in March. They did not have to stay in bed, but were able to be up and about in their room. One day they complained about having sore eyes. Our son, Louis, became so ill that it frightened us. We wished that the daylight would hurry. The next morning we had Dr. Steinmetz come. After he had made an examination he told us that he was certain the one eye would be lost but that there was no cause to worry about the other. He was convinced that the other eye could be saved and that the power of both eyes to see would be transferred to the remaining one. In the eye that was lost a tumor developed; this pushed the eyeball out of its socket. Through his dexterity the doctor succeeded in pushing the eye back into its proper place. The other eye, gradually overcoming the danger, was restored. Henry did not have his eyes effected but the disease left him, much to our annoyance, with an unusually thick upper lip. For that Dr. Steinmetz prescribed bathing it in a salt solution that had to be applied for an hour at a time and that had to be continued for several months until this too was healed. So did the days alternately pass through light and shadow; the weeks became years; and the years passed on; from whence one can not order them to return.

In this way came and went 1848, the year of the revolution. For the common people in Germany this was a thing unusual and surprising. We read the first news of this in the newspapers, and were amazed. One thought he could not trust his own eyes — perhaps he had read incorrectly. Such incidents in ordinary life one thought, especially in Germany, to be quite impossible.

On this occasion many people, especially those who were not certain what they wanted, let themselves, in their dream of freedom, be moved to do things and to accept things that were to become most disadvantageous for society. Everyone went and demanded relief from those by whom he thought himself to be oppressed. In our village, Freienseen, we too felt many pressures on the part of the Count Solms zu Laubach. The boundaries of our common land on the eastern and southern sides were surrounded by the Count’s forested properties. Furthermore, many villages had meadows that were within the forest boundaries. In this case the count had explicit right to use the meadow to pasture his flocks of sheep; this he had his shepherds do. The farmer, however, was not allowed to let his cattle graze on this property. If on occasion an accident occurred at the time of haying or bringing in the gleanings and cattle broke loose from their yoke to enter the meadow, then the agents of the count found out who the farmer was and reprimanded him, sometimes inflicting severe punishment upon that farmer. This was called a court. On farmers' meadows there were also willows and alders that the farmer could not cut. I once saw a man by name Heuschler from Laubach fined 70 gulden because he had cut on his meadow at the Obersennergrund 70 pieces of alder rungs, about ½ inch thick at the butt end and three feet long. Since he was not well to do, he directed to his emincence, in most obedient submission and in most dying reverance, a submissive memorial with a humble request. The fine was cancelled most graciously.

In many places the edge of the forest had grown across the boundary so that a significant amount of timber was standing on the farmer’s meadow; yet he was not allowed to use it under threat of punishment in the state penitentiary. When the count’s forester judged the time to be right, it was cut down; and the charcoal burners made it into charcoal in the summer. This took place on the farmer’s meadow. Normally for this purpose a spot was chosen other than the one on which the timber stood. It was not possible to sue in the devil’s court. We also had a larger area of community forest, in which the count chose to do his hunting as well as fishing in the lake and at Seenbach. All of these and other objections were considered burdens and were elicited in our village as such. A lot of noise was made, but nothing was achieved. The mayor and the council should have been the ones to straighten the matter out; they should have at least felt responsible to try. The mayor, however, considered his responsibility to put into effect and enforce the police regulations, even where they were not necessary. He, as well as several of our most respected men, felt quite uneasy about the rights of poor laborers and day workers. They were afraid in those times of unrest, and feared assassination attempts by the proletariat. One could not find in any of these people, one who wanted to do something to correct the situation.

Georg Boning was a member of the village council. I talked things over with him; and came to the conclusion that we should submit our demands in writing, through a committee elected for the purpose, to Count Solms, who was at that time staying in Darmstadt on business. We let our decision be known; and soon the agitation died down. We asked several other reasonable men to meet at August Berger’s place to clarify the demands we intended to set down in our petition. For that purpose I wrote down on a sheet of paper the beginning of a letter that would summarize what the petition was all about. In a dignified manner it stated our demands in a tone sounding like a formal petition. The committee consisted of August Berger, a brushmaker; Martin Boning, a mason; and a third one whose name I have forgotten. Four days later word came back that the count was willing to meet our specific demands; for example, timber belongs to the owner of the land; timber along private property or land parcels should be cut down in a width of approximately one rod; a property owner should be able to remove from his land all timber and brush, and use it for his own purposes. Concerning the pasturing, his statement was not definite; however, it was satisfactory enough so that for the time being peace was restored. Concerning hunting and fishing, he referred us to a law that was pending in conference in court; he recommended that we wait for the outcome of this hearing, and promised to do all he could to advance our interests in this matter. He did keep his word. Hunting and fishing could be carried on within the community boundaries in accordance with the law; and after it went into effect, the law would apply within the whole community, but it was necessary to be licensed to hunt or fish. The display of joy and thanks the crowd gave to the count upon the return of the committee was an even greater sensation than the one when we first made our demands. Even the committee members beamed with pride because of the count’s high regard for them. He had called them repeatedly men of honor, which of course they were.

All complaints concerning this had by now been resolved, but soon there were others. Another law passed by the same court created a governmental administration in every provincial city consisting of four officials, excluding the county administrators. In order to create a counterpart to the government administrators, there was established a body of citizens, chosen through election to serve on a committee that was given the title of a district council. The members were to appear in the provincial capital at an appointed time for the purpose of revising the limited budgets and regulations established by the governmental administrators.

There was another circumstance that kept people in our community excited long afterward. That was that in the latter part of the 1830’s a highway was built from Laubach to Fleinsingen by the federal authorities; and the road went right through our village. Due to this the old bridge across the Seenbach was torn down and a new one built. The land used, in this instance, had been purchased by the government from the country folk with the exception that a piece of ground belonging to the community had not been paid for. The result was that the government owned several feet of land on both sides of the road shoulder, as was the situation with the bridge. After completion of the new bridge, the roadbed was one and one-half feet lower than that of the old one. The river bed was accordingly deepened. Approximately thirty rods upstream from the bridge there was a grist mill, owned by Johannes Jung. It had been in his family for many generations, some said as many as sixteen or seventeen. He took advantage of the opportunity and had the deepening of the stream bed continued up to the wheel of his mill. This was done at his expense. Shortly afterward he installed a new mill wheel that was three feet taller than the old one. Only after everything had been done at the mill did it begin to dawn on the farmers that no longer would water collect in front of the new bridge as it had done previously in front of the old one, which had in addition a small dam about one foot high. In the past the water at the bridge had resembled a sizeable pool, where one could water cattle, ride horses into so that they would be cleansed, and soak the wagon wheels that had been dried out by the sun. One now saw all of those conveniences gone. It was then that the village council, with the mayor as their head, should have looked after the interests of the community and should not have allowed those rights to be trampled upon. One should remember that in this case the mayor, Johann Konrad Volp, was related to the owner of the mill. His wife was a sister of the miller’s mother-in-law; and they, as daughters of the previous owner of the mill three generations back, had been born at that mill. The community council consisted mainly of people whom the miller called cousins; and the remaining ones could be counted on only as figure heads. Thus the interests of the community had been deliberately neglected.

In its ferment, the year 1848 brought this unresolved situation once more into prominence. The beams of the old dam still floated lazily on the opposite shore, waiting for the things that were yet to happen. Then, in April of the same year, a group of young men went to the above mentioned place, fetched the old dam beam from its resting place, to place it at the foot of the wall across the bridge, where they fastened it as a boom. Here it was on government property; and this was against the law. The matter was reported to the mayor and to the proper authorities, who subsequently gave the order to remove the beam as soon as possible. The mayor had this hurriedly attended to by members of his staff.

Meanwhile I had circulated in the village a written petition to set up a citizens' association. I had also selected a day on which we would assemble in the community hall, but I had not as yet affixed my signature. People racked their brains trying to figure out who might have written this. I had never been involved in community matters and had never run for office, so no one thought of me. The gathering took place on a Sunday afternoon; and at that time, I made a motion to pass part of the demands for which I had previously made notes. Of course the people then knew who had arranged all of this. In a few instances I had told some people earlier, so there were a few who did not attend. Unfortunately there were some among them to whom we just could not explain the need for an organization. The point of it was that the citizens themselves should take community matters into their own hands and have a voice in the solution, particularly when the mayor and several council members had shown that they were not going to protect community interests. On such occasions ideas are presented that are outside of the realm of reason. Johann Konrad Bachman, for example, said to me, "Well, Daehler, now we no longer need to pay community taxes to Knoetz." Knoetz was our community treasurer. Several members of the village council joined the citizens' association at once. Soon a motion was passed to petition the governmental admistration to hold mayoral elections. For this purpose the citizens gave written authority, which was verified by the signatures of about three-fourths of the villagers.

An organized association did not evolve, to be sure; and since its purpose had really been a mayoral election, the people let matters slide by giving me the described authority. Our petition for a mayoral election was forwarded to the proper authorities soon afterward; and it did not remain without effect. A copy of my letter was sent to the mayor for his explanation. The first letter we received from the governmental administration asked us to be patient until the present mayor’s term had expired. After urgent requests and energetic presentations concerning our grievances, caused through negligence and ill will by the mayor against his constituents, the impression was made that lengthy waiting would do no good. Three more petitions followed; and the day for a new election was finally determined. Johannes Lober won with 115 votes; Heinrich Schmidt and Johann Konrad Daehler each received 83 votes. During the course of the election two men, Kasper Sauer and Johannes Begoa, had behaved so badly that both of them were put in prison for a week. The supporters of the mayor did not have a candidate, but all of the votes they could gather were allotted to Johannes Lober; this was quite acceptable to all of us since he was better suited for the office than his brother-in-law, Schmidt. As for myself, I did not want and could not have accepted the office because of my business. Thus, the right man had been elected. No run off election was necessary; and several weeks later a document of confirmation was sent to Johannes Lober.

The bureaucrat, Volp, was removed; and we now had as mayor, Johannes Lober, a man of the people who was without any intrigues or stupid pride. People liked this very much. They could go into his office, unashamed of their plebian manners, and talk things over with him in a natural way. The matter regarding the dam boom he left alone because he neither had the courage to build a new dam nor had the wish to become involved in legal proceedings. I reminded him that one could place the dam boom below the bridge on community property, but he did not think he dared to do that. More than a year later an inspector from the district building department in Darmstadt was making a business trip to Ulrichstein, and stayed over night in our village at Innkeeper Hauffman’s. Mayor Lober used this opportunity and told the former all about this state of affairs. It was his expert opinion, too, to lay the dam boom on government property; then the mill owner could protest this later if he wanted to do so. Consequently, I was charged by the council and the mayor to attend to the matter. I had the forester show me the oak that the district forester had selected, and arranged to have the timber picked up at a time when I thought I would have the boom finished. It had two matching parts. Before the widow of the miller, Johannes Jung, could get a court injunction from the district court in Laubach, the dam boom had been installed in the Seenbach. The widow initiated court proceedings that were to last for years. I do not know exactly how it was resolved. It is said that she won the case but that she had left the mill closed and it was falling apart. She was the kind of woman whose children could not live with her so they left home.

It was in the year 1851 that residents of the city of Laubach protested repeatedly the brick works of Count Solms, which were operated on city property. Things went so far that Count Otto decided to tear down the buildings, and re-establish the brick works on a smaller scale on the northwest side of town, where he had purchased several parcels of land. This undertaking soon got under way. During this job I became seriously ill. The count’s brickmaker had bought of those buildings that were surplus, one that had been used to dry brick. A journeyman and I were in the process of modifying that building into a barn. One morning as I worked on that job I felt an exceptional tiredness in my legs. I bared them and noticed that red spots had appeared. I instructed my journeyman, Johannes Rister, how to proceed with the work and outlined what should be done; then I told him I was ill, and went home. At this time I had promised that I would build a roof over some vacant spot to be used to cast a new bell for our church. I took Christian Bachman along with me. One reason was as a matter of safety because I was very weak. The other reason was to show him in the forest, near the brick kiln road, some timber to use for the roof. Then I walked with him to the construction site and described what had to be done. Finally I arrived home. No one was there. My wife had taken the cart and had gone to work in the fields; and the children were in school. At last our maid, Katharina Walter, came home. I sent her directly to Laubach to get Dr. Steinmetz, and told her she was not to return without the doctor. Three hours went my before the doctor came. In the meantime my wife had come home too.

By this time my body was already so swollen and painful that my shirt and underwear had to be cut away to get them off. I also began to feel an unbearable pain in the intestines. It was all I could do to keep myself from screaming out loud. I became so weak that I could not turn over in bed without help. When I had to go to the pot, it took two people to get me on it and get me back in bed. For 27 days Dr. Steinmetz called on me at five in the morning until the illness subsided. For weeks I lay in bed with a temperature of 25 to 30 R. The doctor diagnosed it as cholera. During my illness I felt close to death. I owed my recovery to the prudence, skill, and diligence of the doctor as well as to the care of my wife, who, however, collapsed from working so hard. She was so over tired that I feared she too would become ill. With the help of our maid, she kept going.

My work at the count’s castle yard was proceeding. The count’s building inspector, Loffler, supervised this. Johannes Rister, together with brickmaker Alban, had the barn finished. had started an addition to the residence of District Forester Muller; Rister and his helper had finished that, with the help of Loffler. By that time I was able at long last to return to work. I made my first little jaunt into Laubach with Dr. Steinmetz in his buggy. He was proud of his treatment and of my recovery. So another period of suffering had been overcome; during which my wife, nursing with care and upset with worry and sadness, had to suffer much more than the patient himself.

In this troubled time nothing new was built except for the building on the property of the count. In the city of Laubach and in other communities there were, however, so many minor jobs to be done that I could always keep my regular journeymen busy. The building department had given me several repair jobs in Ulrichstein and in Selgenhof on behalf of the Grand Duke of Darmstadt. For this I had to provide the lumber. There was also some pump work to do; and I could not have done this without the drills of Count Solms. I was never refused their use.

The count had a new storage building completed in 1853; it was constructed on the Utpher Hof in the Wetterau. This building was constructed to be used for drying tobacco leaves. To my advantage the carpentry was done not far from my home in Freienseen in a forest of pine and fir, by name Eichelgarten. In this year too, Innkeeper Schilling wanted to have a barn built at the Hessenbrucke Hammer. He had already built a smaller barn several years before, and wanted to have this one directly joined to it. He consulted me on this occasion as to how it would be best to construct the roof. I told him that if I were he, I would take the old roof off, and put both barns under one roof, using a double truss. Thereby he would gain considerable more space. This seemed agreeable to him; and he ordered the necessary construction drawings to be made by the construction supervisor and architect, Posainer. Since I was busy with work for the count, the work was given to my uncle, Konrad Daheler, who was very much delighted with this fine job.

In the winter of 1854 I received a letter from Architect Posainer, who asked me to meet with him concerning carpentry that I was to do. He was never at home except on Sundays; hence I went to Grunberg on the following Sunday and met with him in his home. He told me that he had been charged by Mr. Luterous in Ruppertsburg to construct a two story barn on the property of the latter. To provide a building site, a barn had to be torn down. The lumber was to come from the Ruppertsburg community forest. If I were agreeable — and he showed me an agreement he had already drawn up — to take over the job described in the agreement, all I would have to do would be to sign. I would also have to go to the forest to select the required timber. I could see right away from the agreement that it was a good deal. One thousand feet, according to Darmstadt standards, were to be paid with two kreuzer in wages, old coin. I did not hesitate long, and accepted the job. My uncle, Konrad Daehler, had decided to leave for America; and I would be able to keep his journeymen busy. He had promised them employment, and I did not want them to be without work.

As soon as the weather permitted, I selected the necessary oak trees in the forest and readied them by cutting them square, the larger ones by cutting them open on two sides, to be hauled home. For the construction of the roof pine lumber was used. With the arrival of the lumber at the construction site in Ruppertsburg am Beergarten the job was begun and moved smoothly ahead. Posainer came once a week, on occasion twice, to inspect our progress at the construction site. On these occasions he had nothing to say except that we had not worked fast enough. The same thing was said at the site where the bricklayers were working. It had been decided to move the old barn. Since I did not have enough wooden screws to move it to its new destination, I borrowed some from the master carpenter, Muller, in Queckboern. He received remuneration for this service. I also obtained a set from Mr. Diehl, a master carpenter in Ruppertsburg. In this way the task was finished in June.

At the same time a few jobs were done for the count. I had built, in addition to the earlier gypsum mill, a simple saw mill according to the plans of the count’s building inspector, Loffler. Boards were to be cut for this; and my journeyman, Christian Bachman, was kept busy steadily. For the count there were also jobs at the various farm buildings, horse stables, etc. In other communities, several groups of journeymen were doing the repair work, as for example in this year at Einartshausen. During the job in Ludernse, Architect Posainer also gave me work for the Grand Duke. This soon was started in the area of Ulrichstein on the road to Schotten, where a new yard was to be made for the duke’s stables. Work was to begin with a barn and the stables.

At this time, however, the government had in the village, Eichelsachen, a barn and a fruit storage building that had become surplus; in addition there was another building belonging to the forestry, consisting of an old barn and a dwelling. All this, without the forester’s house, was to be used for the newly constructed barn on the Neuen Selgenhof. This job too I took by agreement to remove the old buildings as well as to do the carpentry and remodelling, without having to buy new lumber. I was to put up the building on the Selgenhof. The ground on which the barn was to be erected was situated in such a way that at the front on the east side entrances could be made. On the west side was a low area suitable so that in it the brick work for two horse stables could be built, with entrance doors on the west side. In keeping with the agreement, the lumber from the old buildings was not to be reworked, even though it was crooked and a little bent. This would save time. It did make it very difficult to fit pieces of lumber together. Anyway, it was not a pleasant task: old crooked lumber that was overly hard and heavy necessitated all physical effort and caution to prevent accidents in tearing down the old buildings and in putting up the new.

So it came about that I developed a rather dim view of Inspector Posainer. When we tore down the forestry barn and the top beam was taken down, it measured 64 feet long and 14 to 16 inches thick, and was square hewn oak. I knew that this piece of lumber was to be cut into two beams for the stables. He happened to be present, so I asked him to permit me to cut the beam in two in its present position. In that way there would be less danger for my workers. To this, however, he would not agree; be it because of envy toward me or because of his natural stupid official pride, I know not. My requests had come to an end. I made preparation, and instructed the journeymen they should pay attention to my orders only. With the help of Providence no accident occurred. This fellow, Posainer, was used to accepting bribes; I did this once and it caused me to incur some loss. Had I satisfied this weakness of his more often, I might have had more advantages. I always demanded merely justice for myself wherever it was and asked for no special favors. That made me come out on the short end, as was the case with this building. By the time the barn was erected, it was already late fall. Martin Boning, who was in charge of the bricklaying also finished his walls late. When my dear Posainer came, after the barn was finished, he said, "Well, this is junky, Daehler, here we have a threshold that is really crooked. I want you to take it out and replace it with one that is straight. And that lintel up there is quite crooked; you could have put it in differently so that the wall would be plumb." I was not obligated to do these things for the sake of appearance. My agreement stated that I was to use the lumber as it was without hewing it straight. I was absolutely silent, and did it, spending three or four hours work in the process. I did not want to get into any argument over such a trifle; and since I had already greased his palm, this was really no loss to me.

This was my last significant job around my home town. Now and then there were still a few jobs to be done for the count, including the winter in which the hauling of timber for the sawmill was done. On one such occasion, Count Otto Solms appeared on the job location and asked me why I wanted to go to America. I replied very simply that I thought I could there take care of my family in a better way. That he knew about my desire to leave can be explained as follows: Several weeks earlier I had made him a written offer to sell a parcel of land located in the forest district at Krunseen and that measured about ten Darmstadter morgen in area; saying that I intended to go to America.

He had his agent offer me 1,000 gulden, but I thought the land to be worth much more so I sold it to N. N. Kraespal in Laubach for 1,100 gulden. I was now busy preparing for the departure to America, set for the spring of 1855. I had Mayor Lobler conduct a house and commodities auction before Christmas, 1854. It is not necessary to say that I was kept waiting a long time by the courts regarding the completion of the sale documents. For that winter I had more than enough to do for myself; this included building crates. When I had adequately taken care of all my financial affairs, including the fare for ship passage of 58 florin per person, my cash on hand at the time of departure, April 20th, when we said farewell to Freienseen, was around 2,300 or 2,400 gulden. I am no longer quite sure of the amount.

On April 20, 1855, in the evening, after sundown, we took the first important and definite step for emigration from our dear homeland into a world known only from hearsay. We did so with the greatest confidence in Providence, Who had manifested Himself repeatedly in the course of my life as a Guardian Spirit of Protection; and I acknowledge this gratefully. We; my son, Louis, who was 13, my daughter, who was 11, and I; together with our relative, Henry Benzel, age 14, went to Laubach, where we spent the night at the Sose Inn, which was owned by Johann Seitz. My wife and our son, Henry, age 16, left a week before to visit relatives in Ginheim, near Frankfurt. On April 21st, in the morning I called on Dr. Steinmetz one more time to say good bye to him for good. Then we took the stage coach to Friedberg; there we boarded the train that carried us to Frankfurt. We arrived and proceeded to the homes of relatives. The following week we went to Maintz. I entered into an agreement with a neighbor, J. K. Hoffmann, a man who hired out to do hauling, and with Christian Bachman, who had to escort the load, to bring our luggage to Mainz.

We with our luggage were put on board a steamship on the 23rd to begin the trip down the Rhine. At the dock an already fairly large group of emigrants had gathered. The trip down the Rhine went fairly well. At noon we stopped at Cologne, and stayed over night in an inn in Rotterdam. From there we sailed across the Channel to London; there was great misery among the passengers due to sea sickness. The Channel was turbulent; sea sickness struck without finding much resistance; yet we all arrived well but very weakened and lame in London.

Arriving at one of those travelers hotels, one would have liked to lie down and get some sleep; but after drinking a cup of coffee, we were driven like a herd of sheep to the harbor where we had to board the sailing ship that was to take us to New York. It happened to be low tide, and we stumbled through the mud to reach a 16 foot long ladder that was our means to climb aboard our ship, where we spent the night. I no longer remember the name of the ship. A great many necessities were still to be brought aboard since, according to our travel contract, we were receiving only partial board. There were thus many things that we still intended to buy for the voyage; e.g., potatoes, eggs, hams, and straw filled mattresses. The partial board that we were to get we learned consisted of tea, sugar, zweiback, and drinking water. We were given so much of the latter that we used it for cooking too. We had taken along for housekeeping much foodstuff: zweiback, meat, wurst, sauerkraut, peas, coffee, eggs, cheese, butter, condensed milk, wine, and rum; in fact, we had so much that we did not have to buy any of the stores delivered to the ship. I did buy potatoes in London harbor. There were several hundred passengers; perhaps three hundred of them were German; the rest were Irish, French, Swiss, Italian, and two Chinese men.

The first week the voyage went quite well; the wind was always favorable. The second week it was alternately stormy or calm. After having spent thirty days aboard we sighted the coast of New York. It was the Monday of Pentecost, and was becoming dark as our ship entered New York harbor. We spent that night on board. The captain of our ship, Braddish, was an American who favored the Germans a great deal. We awarded him a certificate of appreciation for our good treatment. Next morning, May 29th, we disembarked, went into New York City, and took lodging in a guest house at 78 Greenwich Street; our landlord was Joseph Strebel, a German from Worms. Our luggage, for which I had paid transportation from London to Albany, was loaded onto a boat and brought to a railroad depot along the Hudson River. The guest house in which we had stayed was so over crowded that not everyone had a place to sleep. The innkeeper showed himself quite intelligent on this occasion; he gave several kegs of beer to the young men so that they drank and sang all night. Unfortunately we who had beds could not get any sleep either.

With this my life in Europe is ended. The continuation will be of my experiences in America.

The railroad trip from New York to Chicago was 25 gulden per person. Christian Lutz, Georg Boning, Louis Streunagel, and others had emigrated with their families to America in 1852. Henry Berger, with his family, and Konrad Scheuermann, who was single, had emigrated in 1845.

Having arrived in New York on May 29, 1855, we spent the night there. On the 30th we went by rail to Albany, where we arrived on the morning of the 31st.

There were many people living in Albany who had emigrated from Freienseen in 1846, among them were my father’s sister, Maria Elisa, and her husband, Peter Bachmann, as well as my former journeyman, Johannes Rister and his family.

I had the latter’s address. Consequently I decided that we would stay in Albany a few days to get some rest and to get cleaned up.

After we, together with our luggage, had been ferried across the Hudson, we stopped on the other shore in front of an inn, where we heard German spoken. We stayed there. After I made further inquiry, it turned out that the innkeepers were the brothers Kreuter from Grunberg. In Germany they had been suspected of swindling all that they could lay their hands on from immigrants, therefore, I did not want to stay with them any longer. When my family and I were ready to leave, we were trailed by a group of about 50 other immigrants. They asked me if I would take some of them into the inn, which I did. We had breakfast there. I left our luggage with my family, and went to look for the home of Johannes Rister. I found only his wife and children home. He had gone to Illinois to see if he could find a place for them to settle in Carroll County, where they had friends. I soon located my aunt. We rented a small house in their neighborhood; as we had good accommodations we stayed there for a few days. My aunt went to a bit of trouble for us. She arranged for transportation for us. We were picked up at the river and were taken to her home, where she gave a hand in helping us get organized. She also gave us the opportunity to do our laundry, helping with that as best she could.

All in all, we were treated well and in a most friendly manner by our old friends: Johannes Moll, Pfarres Hannes, Henry Nonnenmacher, and N. N. Eckstein from Laudenbach.

I, however, intended to go to Chicago, where my sister and her husband, Christian Lutz, with their family, had been living for two years. It was my intention to farm in the area west of that city. We left for the west by train on Sunday, June 4th. In this matter Konrad Michel, a son-in-law of Johannes Rister, helped us a great deal. Christian Bachman and Henry Berzel, for whom I paid the travel expenses, went with us. The trip at Niagara Falls, across the suspension bridge, was very slow; and we had to make do with improvised cattle cars, in which we could not even sit up properly. On frosty nights our teeth sometimes chattered. In this way we arrived on Friday, June 8th, in the city of Chicago, weary and tired. As it was already late in the afternoon, we found accommodations at the Schweitzer Heimat, a small guest house. Here I inquired about our relatives and friends, but we found no one who had ever heard of either George Boning or Christian Lutz.

Anyway, no one knew anything about the Germans known to me, even though I had many acquaintances in town who had been living there for eight or nine years. I did know that many of them peddled lettuce and other vegetables in the city. The next morning I said to myself, "Today you are going to find them." After breakfast, I went outside, and walked down the street toward the bridge. Suddenly, as I came back from the bridge, there stood in front of me a girl holding a small basket filled with lettuce. I recognized her at once as the daughter of Louis Streunagel, who had lived in our village. I asked her how much she charged for her lettuce, paid her the amount, and asked her to follow me. I told her who I was, but I think she had recognized me already. I told her that we had arrived the night before, and asked her to come to the place where we were staying. I would not let her go until she had told us where Christian Lutz or George Boning, or Konrad Daehler were living. "Oh, well," she replied, "we people from Freienseen live on the north side, not far apart from one another." So much the better! I soon arranged through the innkeeper for transportation; and we moved our things to the home of my brother-in-law, Christian Lutz, on Clyburn Avenue. He worked in a cannery. He and his family were not living in that house but lived in another one near the cannery. Thus we were able to move into his other house and live there. Our next door neighbor happened to be my uncle and godfather, Konrad Daehler. A turner, Christian Meyer, had added to my uncle’s home a workshop, where he did carpentry and made tables, beds, and chairs. Meyer had several cabinet maker journeymen; and he also gave Christian Bachman work for some time.

Next I had to arrange for Henry Benzel’s trip to St. Louis. Henry Weisel, a butcher, who was the boy’s uncle and godfather, lived there. The latter had promised to pay the travel expenses for the boy to St. Louis. I, however, had paid expenses to Chicago. I now wished reimbursement; consequently, I prepared a bill for Henry Weisel, requesting payment of the 100 florin and 41 kreuzer that I had advanced. Young Benzel had received 6 florin and 20 kreuzer from his father when we departed from Freienseen. Benzel’s brother, Johannes, and a sister, Elizabeth, who had been living in Chicago for two years, took him in; and his brother even escorted him to St. Louis, bringing back for me from H. Weisel the money I had advanced.

The small house owned by my brother-in-law that we had moved into was adequate for a time as temporary quarters. It was not suited for a longer period of time as it had no kitchen. We had to put our stove outside; and that, be it in sunshine or rainy weather, proved a nuisance for the housewife who cooked. For the time being we visited all our people from Freienseen. First we called on our friend, George Boning; and he did a great many things for us. For his business as a brick layer and plasterer, he had to have a one horse cart. This turned out fine for us. When we bought a stove, he brought it home for us in his cart. He also hauled some boards from a lumber yard for me. I used those to make beds, a table, and some benches. We needed some furniture as the house we lived in was empty. With these things I could arrange it so that we could enjoy some comfort for the time being. During this time my wife and I decided that we did not care for city life. We wanted to have a more comfortable home of our own; and as I mentioned before, we had in mind a farm. We soon made up our minds not to stay to Chicago much longer.

I had also bought a gun for a young man, Otto Immelt, who came from our village. He was working in Kankakee County for a farmer, a Yankee; and I wrote to him about this. The latter came to get the gun, and stayed with us for a few days. When he left, I went with him to look over the area and see if I should like it and find out if it were possible to buy land there. However, I did not like it. The land was too flat and swampy; everywhere was much water in the lowlands. It seemed to me unhealthy; perhaps even more prone to fever than Chicago. My sister and all her children had come down with fever. In Chicago I noticed that many adults warded off the fever by drinking brandy as the drinking water, which could be found at only an eight to ten foot depth, was very bad and had to be responsible for inducing the fever.

The strange way of life in the big city hurriedly drove me to try to find a more suitable place for us. Because Henry Zugschwerdt had already highly praised his home in the area of Carroll County, I intended to look over that area too. Many people from the old homeland were supposed to have settled there and in the surrounding counties. The first thing I did now was to make plans to pay a visit to Henry Zugschwerdt in Carroll Co. He had given his address to George Boning when he had returned to Germany for a visit and had called on Boning. George Boning now decided that he would go along with me, and visit his old friends in that area.

I liked this idea very much, so one fine morning we took the Illinois Central to Freeport, and went the rest of the way by stage coach, arriving at night. Boning knew that a shoemaker, Balzer Schreiner, a German from Vogelsberg, lived in Mt. Carroll. We looked the latter up; and he showed us an inn, where we stayed that night. Next morning, after breakfast, Schreiner returned. Since it was Sunday, he did not waste any time, but took us for a walk through town. He showed us the way to Black Oak Grove, where Henry Zugschwerdt was living. After much inquiry we found him living in a log house. Here we remained for a couple of days, and looked over the land in the neighborhood that was being offered for sale.

Speculators had by this time already bought up every bit of federal land; and thusly, they were the sellers. In the area, particularly in the woods, several German families had settled. In a straight southerly direction and across from Franz Hinkel and Henry Zugschwerdt, was an eighty acre tract that belonged to George M. Schneider, a German who was single, and who was offering the land for sale again. This area I liked, partly because of the neighbors whom I knew. As Schneider was at that time in Mt. Morris, he had to be notified that a prospective buyer was here. George Boning wished to visit a friend, Johannes Muller, in Elkhorn; at any rate, we went down there one day. Zugschwerdt went along and actually showed us the way. The first acquaintance we met was Johannes Rister. He had helped to build a house for Peter Schreiner. Boning went to Muller’s; and Rister took me to the home of George Henry Schreiner, where we had lunch. The latter was probably footing the bill for the construction of the home of his son, Peter. Here I found old friends from Sellenrod and the Schmidts; that is to say, Johannes Muller, blacksmith Hancort Rahn, Mrs. Rucke with her sons and daughters. Peter Muller, and the old Schmidt Hannes with his whole family. From here I sent a message to George M. Schneider through John Peter, whom I paid five dollars for this service, asking that he come on a certain day to Black Oak Grove to finalize the sale of his land. I believe that it was on the 5th or 6th of July that we got together at Henry Zugschwerdt’s place; and I bought our present place of eighty acres from G. M. Schnedier, whereby we agreed to register the deed in Mt. Carroll on the 16th of the month. For this Schneider brought along his father-in-law from Mt. Morris. The sale price was $460.00, cash.

Since Zugschwerdt had offered that I could stay at his place and bring my family there with me, I returned to Chicago, leaving on Saturday, July 7th. I had hoped to arrive there during the evening to spend Sunday there, and then on Monday morning to move lock, stock, and barrel for Black Oak. My plans came to nought. In those days one had to go from Mt. Carroll by stage coach and then transfer to a train at Freeport. I arrived in Mt. Carroll too late to catch the stage coach. It was between eleven and twelve A.M. when I started to walk to Freeport; I arrived there at eight P.M. Hoping that I still would be able to surprise my family that same night, I went to the depot. I was told that it was Sunday and that there would be no train. I had to wait until the next evening. What could I do? There was no other way other than to accept fate and wait. I went to the inn where I had stayed once before and spent the night there. I waited all this time with great impatience. The next day was the longest Sunday that I have ever experienced. At nine P.M. I boarded the train to Chicago, and arrived there the next morning about four o’clock. Very quickly everything necessary was packed. Boning was most helpful; he took all of our household belongings, the stove and accessories, the two beds made from cottonwood, a table, a bench to sit on, and several other things, to the depot in his wagon. We departed from Chicago on July 9th. By evening we were in Freeport, where we stayed overnight. Much to my good fortune, I found someone who took our things to Black Oak for eleven dollars. The following morning the household goods and the crates were loaded; and we went to Black Oak, where we arrived at Henry Zugschwerdt’s place in the evening.

Here we took up residence, living in the same log house in which he too was living. We slept in the attic; our kitchen was outside; we ate in the living room. At the appointed time G. M. Schneider came from Mt. Morris; and we went to Mt. Carroll, where Esquire Harris drew up the sales agreement. At that time I paid Schneider.

Now there was much work. We had to build, but we also had to grub as it had been definitely determined that we were going to farm. Christian Bachman followed us, and spent a whole year with us. We first went to the west side of our new property to grub and to clear seven and one-quar-ter acres that Henry Zugschwerdt plowed in August with his breaking plow. I paid him twenty dollars for that.

When we started to build, using the German way or better yet, the Vogelsberg way, two stories so that we would save on roof construction. It was difficult to get lumber and shingles. We still had some fairly aged oak logs. We began to hew them in square shape and to cut them into six inch timbers. The size of our building would have to depend on the amount of lumber we were able to find. It turned out that the building was to measure 24 feet long by 13 feet wide. We three, our son, Henry, Christian Bachman, and I were long busy at this job for we had to do our own calking and chinking. There was no bricklaying as it was impossible to get any bricks. We spent almost two months doing the carpentry; it was the end of October before everything was done. A cellar was provided, but the house was set on oaken blocks. The windows I obtained from a sawmill company in Mt. Carroll; the lumber I got from Arvin, from whom Fritz Queckboerner had bought his land earlier, and who had built himself a shanty. From these I made roofing lumber and did the carpentry as long as the materials lasted. Roof shingles we got from the mill in Mt. Carroll.

This time was one of the worst in my whole life because my wife as well as our son, Louis, came down with the ague. They were lying in the Zugschwerdt beds, or rather I should say, in the attic on sacks stuffed with straw. My wife was deathly ill. Daughter Wilhelmina cared for her; and John Hochstetter, who lived in Mt. Carroll, was our doctor. Louis was not as seriously ill, but his eyes were infected again; and that frightened me. Those were hard days while we were building. I always kept my eyes on the path that ran from our construction site to the Zugschwerdt log house. Any moment I thought I would see someone come to bring me terrible news. Providence was merciful; and with time things turned for the better. The fever did not leave my wife completely until May or June of the next year, 1856. In the late fall of 1855 Jacob Hartman took pity on us, and covered the walls with mortar made of straw and clay. Jacob Hartman was a bricklayer from Golzenheim, who had come across the ocean several weeks after us. He arrived in Black Oak at approximately the same time and was living in a log house with K. Hild. The weather was good for fall; and the mortar walls dried out well. We moved into the house on the 9th of November. Even the chimney had been constructed out of mortar with a board covering. We were happy to be in our new home even though it was in a sort of raw stage. For the winter it had to do. We had plenty of wood for heating purposes; in fact, it had to be used to get it out of the way.

To return to the subject of Johannes Rister. He, himself, worked in Elkhorn with his Vogelsberg acquaintances. His family had remained in Albany, N. Y. In the late summer he brought them to Elkhorn, and they lived with Franz Hinkel, who was single at that time. Rister became a pious and religious man as he had associated himself with the Brethren at Elkhorn. To demonstrate this, he sold me a cow for $30.00 cash. I took the cow home and tried to milk her but found that was quite impossible because she kicked like the worst kind of horse. He tried to make me believe that his niece, the wife of Konrad Peter, had milked the cow for some time. I bought from the senior Henry Zugschwerdt a pair of old oxen and a still older wagon, so that we could enjoy a few rides. Both items cost me $110.00. In checking into this, I did find out, but too late, that he had overcharged me approximately $40.00. Well, I thought, there is nothing I can do about this now.

We had moved into our winter quarters and now had to think about groceries for the months ahead. I got wheat from Werner Zugschwerdt in exchange for building him a new house. I also bought a hog, slaughtered, from Hamilton Sterns for six cents a pound. We had for the winter enough potatoes that we had acquired by working a potato field belonging to N. N. Conn. The meat did not last us through the winter so we had to buy more. We bought a quarter of an ox from the elder Zugschwerdt. The money we had brought with us from Germany now started to run short, and we had to think about earning some more. We had approximately 700 to 800 dollars left, when we moved to Black Oak. The boys had made some money in the summer working in the threshing mills. In the fall they helped farmers with the harvest. We built the aforementioned log house for Werner Zugschwerdt the first winter. Luckily that first winter was not too severe. Furthermore, we built several new wooden sleds. Farmers brought us the wood that we cut and used to make the sleds. The first sled we built for ourselves; the second was built for N. N. Goldern, who paid $5.00 for it.

So passed the first winter in our new homeland. Together with other residents of Black Oak like Anton Hinkel, the brothers Sylvester and George Wagner, and Karl Geldmacher, we took the first steps to become citizens. Spring wheat had to be sown on the seven and one-half acres of ploughed land. I purchased the seed from our neighbor, Dr. Stephenson, 15 bushels of it at $1.25 a bushel. We also cleared and grubbed an additional ten acres that were planted in June. Neighbor Hinkel had a piece of land that he wanted plowed, so we went together and bought a small plow. Each of us had a few oxen; and then we started. The first crop on those 74 acres was very bad. Weeds and brush had not yet decayed; we had plowed much too late. We only got 374 bushels of wheat. The stand of wheat had not been tall enough. Dr. Stephenson cut the wheat with his reaper, for which we helped him by tying his bundles. We had barely enough bread for now, but not for the entire year. So, again we had to buy wheat for seeding for the next year, 1857. This we bought from Adam Daggert.

I had allotted to Johannes Rister a piece of land on the east side of our property, at his request. He was obliged to clear it for use for three years; and I was to attend to the fencing. There was not enough lumber to be used for that, so we had to find something to use in its place. We had provided fence posts enough, during the winter, to fence three sides of a forty acre tract. The rest, however, was lacking. I had seen, at Dr. Stephenson’s, a wire fence placed. I thought it best that I also buy wire, but I did not have the money. Adam Daggert loaned me $100 at 15%; and I went to Chicago and bought enough to put up a three wire fence. This fence did not do the job; the cattle kept breaking through; and the oxen which in those days roamed free at night, tore down the wire.

Franz Hinkel wanted at this time to be rid of the Rister family. The latter, who had even less money than I, had no choice but to build a home. He came to me; and hauled onto the piece of land he was working, with my oxen, some oak logs. These he cut into timbers of from five to six inches as well as making necessary lumber for the roof, and the flooring. He did not have any shingles. His building site was the southest corner of our land, where he remained for three years. In the meantime, his daughter, Anna Elisa, and her husband, K. Michel, had also arrived here; and they lived with them. Michel stayed one more year at this place. Rister bought 80 acres west of our property; and thus became our neighbor. He built a home and stables near the road.

The winter of 1856-1857 was one of the worst I have ever seen. From beginning to end there was lots of snow, on top of which there was an icy crust of about three inches. If one needed fire wood and wanted to get it with the oxen, it took only three or four steps over the snow before all broke through and could not go any farther. As the cattle had no other protection than the piles of straw, and what was worse, did not get much feed, many of them died. Thomas Meier, for example, lost forty head. We lost both of our cows, each of which had cost thirty dollars. We did have a log-type barn for them and also slough hay, but there was no bedding straw as that was scarce this cold winter. Our oxen roamed the neighboring fields where they found corn stalks. We, ourselves, had not grown any corn. Because of our financial situation we were not able to buy any. Yet when we used the oxen to work, we had to buy corn. Later we bought another cow from Johannes Rister. I think it cost $32; and it was a good animal. The boys and I also built a house for Henry Traum, who paid us with a cow. That was in 1857.

Now and then we earned a little, as for example, when we put a new roof on Franz Hinkel’s log house or a shed, for which several timbers had to be split because they were too thick. That was in October, 1855. In the spring of 1856 we did some building for Adam Daggert. Also in the summer of 1856 we built for Werner Zugschwerdt the log house into which he and his brother, Henry, and Anton Hinkel, all three unmarried men, moved. Through the year we manged to get along, rather poorly, with cash earnings. One did not get to see much cash. People traded or exchanged mutually, work for goods and vice versa.

In the spring of 1857 Konrad Horst and his family arrived from Wohnfeld. They lived with us for several months, and then bought 40 acres southwest of Albrechts church. He felled several oaks at a place where our son, Henry, built him a little house, German style, from the limbs. He provided the beam construction himself. In Germany Horst had been a bricklayer. On the northeast corner of this lot Horst’s aged father was buried. In 1856, during July and August, we built for Henry Geisz a house from oak timber that had been logged on his land. In between times we worked at harvesting as long as it lasted. In November, 1857, we built a new home for Konrad Rahn, a blacksmith in Elkhorn; we used forest timber. The home was for his tenants, Lust, basket weavers from Sellenrod; we were given a cow in payment. For the elder Henry Zugschwerdt we also built a new log house, for which we cut the timber.

It was in that year, 1857, in November, that Philip Lang emigrated. He joined us and stayed with our family during that winter. They remained through the spring, when Lang and Kaspar Wagner from Einartshausen rented land from Werner Zugschwerdt. They built themselves their residence right there. For that purpose Lang had bought a few young oxen from N. N. Bentschick. In that year I bought a few oxen from N. N. Snow. They had been used by a man named Dickenson, who had worked for Snow. The latter was not present personally as he lived in Ohio. Dickenson plowed the 80 acre tract of land on Snow’s behalf. This was located near the Fair Haven school house and was purchased in the 1860’s by Konrad Sack. The oxen cost about 80 dollars. I can not remember the exact amount as they were not yet half paid for. Snow, in addition, owned a piece of forest land, of which eighty acres were to be fenced. Dickenson asked me for rails and posts, which were to be made on location. After that I was supposed to fence in the area. I promised that the boys and I would attend to the matter. I intended to pay for the oxen in this manner. I must have worked off fifty dollars of the debt this way when there was a rumor that Dickenson had disappeared suddenly. At this my heart fell, like into my shoes. Shortly afterward, Snow appeared on the scene. When I wanted to pay for the oxen through my work on the fence, he turned me down, saying that he too had lost a great deal through Dickenson. He said that he could not get any thing from Dickenson and would have to take over that 80 acre tract of land at a loss if he were not to lose everything. So, what could I do? Snow deferred payment until I could pay, but of course not without interest. I went sadly on my way. For me that was a costly experience.

At the beginning of the winter of 1858, Philip Lang bought forty acres from Snow. The land bordered our property on the east side and was a part of the school land. He paid eight dollars an acre. On this he wanted to build a house and live there himself. He did not have any money other than the $30 his father had sent him from Germany in March. We neighbors got Lang to take us to Savanna one day; and for that $30 we bought boards, two by fours, shingles, and windows, as much of these items as we could get for the money that we had. Thresholds and the thicker lumber my boys and I cut from oak trunks. We built from all this a little house, 14 feet by 16 feet. I provided my own food during the building, but later on received $5.00 wages. I had promised to build the house; and I kept my word even though he turned out not to be my friend and called me incredible names. At one time I had given Lang about ten bushels of potatoes as a gift. When he used them up he wanted more, but I could not let him have any more. I had taken several sacks full of them to Mt. Carroll to a store to pay a debt, the groceries that I had used during the winter. He became furious with me! He told about me all kinds of things; none of which were true. Still, I finished his house for him so that he could live there. Later we became friends once more. In years thereafter this pattern repeated itself frequently when not every thing went according to his wishes.

In April, 1858, Henry Hoffman came from Freienseen with his wife and seven year old son; they stayed with us during the summer. He had already spent a year in Blue Island, Ill., where he contracted a fever and had great difficulty getting cured. Two weeks after the arrival of Hoffman, N. N. Bissel arrived with his family. They had been sent to us by my brother-in-law, Christian Lutz, from Chicago. Thus we had two other families to room and board. The latter family, however, I kept for only three weeks. I made a bed for them from oak limbs and found a log house for them to rent in Burr Oak. To Hoffman I gave some land and some seed potatoes that he cultivated that summer. He had a good crop. When the harvest was over, I dug a cellar for him right across the road from Franz Hinkel. It measured ten feet square. I asked him how much money he had left, and told him I could build him a small house. He had only $13, he replied. I told him that that would cover the cost of a roof and walls. We went to Savanna and bought $13 worth of building materials. Then we went out to the neighboring prairie and gathered enough oak timber to make a house, 12 x 14. It was enclosed all around with rough boards, but I could cover only about half the roof with shingles. Since the house was the usual post and beam German way, I suggested to him "If you want to live in a warm place, have your wife in her spare time, make the mortar and you can put it the walls yourself." Incidentally, Hoffman, as we did too, had to try and find work so that he could make some money. Things went on as I thought they would. I rented to him one and one-half acres of land, on which he and his family must have remained for four years. His daughter, Maria, was born in that little home. In those days there were three families, not counting ours, living on our land: Henry Hoffman’s; Johannes Rister, who in addition to his faddmily had his son-in-law, Konrad Michel, and his wife living with them; and John Bast. Bast lived along the road of our northest corner and was a blacksmith. I had also built him a house, 14 x 16, from lumber he had purchased in Savanna for that purpose.

Previously Bast had lived with the elder Zugchwerdt. While there he also had a blacksmith shop. On June 6, 1855 a tornado struck and blew down trees and buildings in Black Oak. Zugschwerdt’s log house, in which Bast and his wife lived, as well as the smithy were competely demolished. Consequently, he asked me if I would permit him to live on our land, on which he had rented an acre, until he could construct some new buildings. He lived there until May 20, 1862; at noon that day he died of consumption. The following year I bought from his widow the buildings and blacksmith tools for my son, Henry. Henry lived there with his wife, Elisa, born Zugchwerdt, who died in giving birth to their daughter, Lisa, in March, 1865.

The storm of June 6, 1858, had been so terrible that the top half of Zugschwerdt’s log house, that is to say the part above the first story, with the roof, was blown away along with all the household goods inside. Crates with clothing in them were found one and a quarter miles away. The roof and the upper story were ten rods away from the house that was still Standing. I had just built for Joost from rough timber on his land the house that is now, in 1886, owned by Adam Kohler. It was finished on Saturday and he was planning to move in on Monday. On that same morning everything had been blown away by the storm of the day before. We found the shredded and torn apart pieces scattered over a wide area. Karl Geldmacher lived in a house made from boards. This was toppled and blown about by the storm while he and his family were still inside. As a result he was injured, breaking his collar bone and being paralyzed for over a year. These details are only examples.

I will now tell something about the Germans living within a distance of three or four miles of our neighborhood. Some of them we had met when we arrived here; and many of them were people from Darmstadt in Upper Hesse. Henry Zugschwerdt had a family composed of two sons, Werner and Henry Jr., and three daughters, the eldest of whom was married. Next door to his farm was Franz Hinkel, a West Prussian, in those days still single, on his farm. Those two were our next door neighbors. Two miles away from us was Konrad Geisz and his family on a 40 acre tract of land that was still forested. Three quarter miles to the west lived Konrad Hild and his half-brother, Johannes Dietz, and their families. All three families were from Ermenrod. Five miles northwest lived Adam Daggert with his family as well as the widow Klein, who lived not far from Dietz, with her family and her single half-brother, Henry Weitzen. The latter and Daggert came from around Alsfeld. Not far from Hild, Karl Schreiner had located; he had come from Feldkrucke. N. N. Joost from Ulrichstein and the aforementioned Jacob Hartman from Golzenheim lived near Konrad Keil from Feldkrucke and Ferdinand Ruppel, who came from near Alsfeld. Two miles southwest lived his half-brother, Eberhard Pflug. Two miles to the south were Konrad Seim from Sellenrod; Konrad Friedrich, who was single; Johannes Friedrich, with his wife, born Eckhard; and Henry Diehl, all from Ruppertsburg. Diehl had a family; his wife was a daughter of the elder Henry Zugschwerdt, who had made already seven trips by sea. These people from Ruppertsburg all had crossed the ocean with Zugschwerdt at one time or another. He had brought them to this area because he had settled here earlier; consequently, they had come here before us.

Christian Bachman had come here with us, and had lived with us for one year. Philip Lang had also come with us across the sea, but had gone first to Pittsburgh as a locksmith. There he had been unable to support his family; through our correspondence, he came here. Lang’s home in Germany had been Babenhausen. When we had been here a few days Karl Geldmacher came with his family, accompanied by his brother-in-law, Fritz Queckboerner, who also had his family with him. They came here from New York, where they had been tailors; and settled three miles west of us. A brother of the latter, Phillip Queckboerner, a native of Atzenheim and single, had come with us across the ocean and had made his home close to us, a little to the south. A number of people had come from Wurttemburg; among them were the two brothers, Sylvester and George Wagner, and A. A. Haag, who had settled in the area. These are the Germans we met, with the exception of the Pennsylvania Germans, who lived a little further south. They still live in Fair Haven Township. Hild, Daggert, and Schreiner live in Salem Township, where later on settled people who had come from Vogelsberg, Einartshausen, and the villages of Grunberg, Waiterschein, etc. Also Merbodt from the Schmitte as well as some Prussians settled in that area. In 1856 Henry Geisz and Johannes Eisfeller came with their families from Ermenrod and settled at Black Oak. Philip Birkenstock had come without his family; however, he was able to provide them a home, so after two years they came from Wohnfeld.

As concerns the native Yankees, they avoided clearing the woodlands, so only two or three of them became our neighbors. Anyway the Yankees are not very numerous in our township; those who came settled on the prairies. Several Pennsylvania German families were then and are now living in our township. These Pennsylvanians, whose ancestors came during the War for Independence, in part from Hesse, in part from Wurttemburg, are peculiar in that they still hold today German language and custom. The language is mostly Wurttemburger in dialect. In many counties in Pennsylvania, for example, in the city of Reading in Berks County, German was still spoken in the public schools in the 1850’s. In Mt. Carroll Seminary there was from 1858 until 1861 a professor, Paul Lorenzen, born in Holstein, who taught literature and geology. Coming from an old clerical family, he had held a ministry himself, but in 1844, because of his ideas, he brought his free thinking family, father, brothers, and sisters to Davenport, Iowa. Our Paul later went to Pennsylvania and married a widow in Reading. After that he returned, going to Mt. Carroll as a professor. He came to preach to us at Black Oak every two weeks on Sunday, beginning in 1859. With this I must mention that although his wife was a native American, she could not speak English, only German.

For the German settler one of the first things was to get himself a home, even if he did not have any cash. Since the land had been bought by speculators, they were able to make huge profit. These Germans were what these speculators with land and a desire to make money were looking for. Hence they sold 40 acres to one, 80 acres to another, according to the buyer’s wishes, at ten to twelve dollars an acre at the rate of ten to fifteen per cent interest. Our Germans were, however, good workers. In clearing the land and in farming, they could usually by the time they had been here the second year raise a crop of wheat. They did need another source of income to make ends meet until then. Also they had to pay for the first plowing of the grubbed land; this was done by a man who had a large plow and a team of oxen and had made this work his business. He charged three or four dollars to plow an acre of land. In the end diligence won out. In clearing away the brush, the immigrants helped one another mutually; for depending on whether the brush was tall or short, there was a charge of from three to ten dollars to clear an acre. There was also a difference depending on whether the ground were flat, rocky, or swampy. On those occasions the skill that I had learned in Germany as a surveyor and had brought with me to my new homeland came again into respect and use. I surveyed the cleared and plowed properties for those interested in having this done; it served to protect them from litigation. I received a small remuneration for this. Whoever did not have the funds to pay, and there were very few who did, worked for me in return.

cord = a stack of wood 4 ft. high by 4 ft. wide by 8 ft. long

florin = 1 dollar and 60 cents

gulden = 48 cents

heller = 1/8 cent

kreuzer = 1/2 cent

lothen = 1/3 ounce

morgen = .631 acres

ohm = 40 gallons

r = reamur; 30 r. = 103 degrees

simmer = 9/10 bushels

SOURCES:

JOHANN KONRAD DAEHLER, 86, died at the home of his son, Supervisor Henry J. Daehler, in Fair Haven Township, on June 16, 1897, and was buried June 18th. Interment took place in their private burial ground at the old homestead, after which Rev. Muegge delivered the funeral sermon in the old Lutheran church, two miles west of Chadwick. A large congregation was in attendance.

The deceased was born in the village of Freienseen, Hesse - Darmstadt, Germany, Feb. 6, 1811. In 1855 he with his family, consisting of his wife, two sons, and a daughter crossed the Atlantic for the United States and settled in Fair Haven Township, Carroll County, on the place where he has since lived and died in his old age.

While in Germany he followed the carpenter and millwright trades, but when he arrived in this country devoted his time to farming.

He was one of the German pioneers of Black Oak and with a few others was one of the founders of the German St. Paul’s Lutheran Church.

Mr. Daehler was a good neighbor and was liked by everyone who knew him.

Nine years ago his wife passed beyond just a short while after they had celebrated their golden wedding.

He leaves two sons, Henry J. and Louis C., both of Fair Haven; a daughter, Mrs. Otto Immelt, who resides in Waterloo, Iowa; nineteen grandchildren; and sixteen great-grandchildren to mourn his loss beside a host of friends.

JOHANN KONRAD DAEHLER AND HIS FAMILY

His death notice is copied from a contemporary newspaper account. The clipping found in a scrap book of family remembrances contains no identification as to its source.

German data came from the manuscript autobiography of Johann Konrad Daehler and from Freienseen parish records contained in the files of the Hessian State Archives at Darmstadt, Germany.

Marriage and burial records consulted in this country were those contained in the registers of St. Paul’s German Lutheran Church, commonly known as the Black Oak Church. It was located in Fair Haven Township west of the village of Chadwick. Johann Konrad Daehler helped to organize the church in 1860, and served as its first duly elected secretary. The church ceased to function as a church in 1950; and the church registers are now part of the archives of the First Lutheran Church of Chadwick.

Tombstone inscriptions have given valuable clues. The older members of the Daehler family were originally buried in the Daehler family cemetery that was located on the homestead west of Chadwick. All of the stones were removed and have been carefully reset and preserved. At the same time, ca. 1910 or 1911, the remains of those members of the family buried in the private burial ground were exhumed and reinterred in the Chadwick Cemetery. The family headstone contains the following inscription in German:

Data about Otto and Wilhelmina (Daehler) Immelt was obtained from the probate files (numbers 2380 and 2797) of the Black Hawk County, Iowa, District Court at Waterloo. THE HISTORY OF BLACK HAWK COUNTY, IOWA, published in Chicago by the Western Historical Company in 1878, contains on page 539 a short biographical sketch of Otto Immelt, who at that time was farming in Bennington Township near Waterloo. The couple had resided there since 1867.

Data about the various families came in the main from information collected by the members of each respective family. There are some exceptions. These relate to those children of Louis C. and Anna E. Daehler who left no descendants. In these instances it was necessary to obtain data from church records, death certificates, death notices in local newspapers, and reports given to the secretaries of the Daehler family reunions, which have been held annually Since 1934.

More than a decade ago, I found a printed manuscript on a shelf at my parents' house. On the faded blue cover it read "He Built Well". Curious, I opened to the first page and there was written in block letters a note from my grandfather that read:

Naturally, this was intriguing. I borrowed the manuscript from my parents with the intention of reading and creating an electronic copy of it, but it eventually lay forgotten under a pile of papers. When we moved recently, I found it again and decided it was time to do the project I had been planning on. This is the result.

I’ve taken the manuscript, scanned it, OCR’d it, and laid it out as a book. The final product is what you see here: a version of "He Built Well" that can be read online, downloaded as a PDF, or loaded onto an e-book reader.

Along the way, I made a few editorial changes, but nothing too big. Mostly it was fixing some formatting, the odd typo, and some layout. Here’s a complete list of what I’ve changed:

To format the book I used [AsciiDoc](https://asciidoc.org/), a really flexible text-based format similar to Markdown but way more powerful. AsciiDoc has a companion tool called [AsciiDoctor](https://asciidoctor.org/) that lets you style and package up the text in a variety of formats. Working with AsciiDoc and AsciiDoctor is a breeze, and using it I was able to put together what I think is a pretty good representation of this book.

This e-book is an open source project, created with the goal of sharing knowledge and inspiring others. The entire source code, including the book content and this website, is available on [GitHub](https://github.com/rustygeldmacher/he-built-well). I think it forms a pretty good template for use in any publishing project.