Adam Kolker's Ordeal in 1853

I apologize for having been remiss in not posting on this blog for sometime. I have been involved in Thomas MacEntee’s “Genealogy Do-Over” project. In my case, it has not been an actual “Do-Over”; it’s been more of a “Go-Over”. I went back to the start to check my source citations and, as Thomas MacEntee said, many start out in genealogy and fail to do a good job of source citation. He was so very right! So, I have been going back and developing more accurate citations for ALL of the documents and information that I have come across so far. That has taken a lot of time and effort. But while I was at it, I also filled out research logs and made To-Do lists for each family. That has taken just as much time and effort. But I have to say, I’m a heck of a lot better organized now!

Back in August, 2013 I had a blog about Adam Kolker, my two-times great grandfather who was born near Fulda, Germany about 1835 and as an eighteen-year old came to America in 1853. He was aboard a ship called the New Era which had between 300-400 German immigrants aboard. On the night of November 13, 1853, the ship ran aground on the coast of New Jersey near modern day Asbury Park. Only 160 survived the ordeal with many just being washed overboard during the stormy night. Adam recalled in a Quincy newspaper, that he had survived by clinging to one of the ship’s masts. What a harrowing night that had to be.

I was fortunate enough to find an account of Heinrich Weckesser, who was also a survivor. He was also age 18 and, like Adam, survived by clinging to a mast. His story below must be very similar to what Adam experienced- who knows…. perhaps they were clinging to the same mast!

 

Grandpa Henry's Story

Heinrich Jacob Weckesser, age 18 [in 1853] from Hatzbach, Germany

Based on the various firsthand accounts of the wreck that are recorded, Henry might have described his experience like this: [This sounds like it was not written by Henry himself, but a reconstruction by someone else from sources describing the actual ordeal.]

It wasn't until after the wreck that I could begin to comprehend something I had actually seen with my own eyes. Of the few survivors who did not spend thirty-six hours clinging to the rigging of the wrecked ship, Captain Henry [Thomas J Henry, commander of the New Era] was one. He was on dry land, safe, while the screams of his charges were swallowed up in the ocean's roar.

I thought back to how we had begun, to the excitement that bounced around the ship as it filled with chattering families, claiming their space in steerage, setting up privacy curtains, arranging sundries, journals, snacks in cheerful optimism. As the days wore on though, and cholera struck the ship even while we waited in port, the urgency to set sail took on a grim quality.

Relief swept over me on September 28, when we finally nudged our way through the harbor to open sea. I watched Bremen disappear, raised my eyes to Heaven for God's good keeping, and leaned into the wind. 

But the going was slow. The ship leaked. And people kept getting sick. I told myself every day that it was going to get better. We were going to get a tailwind, a break in the clouds, a day without another passenger down.

By the end of the voyage, cholera would take forty lives from among us as we rocked across the sea. We watched, shivering, each time another body was wrapped in a thin blanket and slung overboard. My own two blankets were confiscated as makeshift cloth coffins, after which I slept in every piece of clothing I had stuffed into my trunk, trying with little success to stave off the bite of night's deep freeze.

Day after day, we sailed into the wind, seeming to get nowhere. Four weeks in, a gale hit and within minutes threw waves clear across the deck. Food, stoves, supplies- all swept overboard. Three souls were lost that night.

When our rations were reduced to one meal per day, we began to talk to each other less about our plans for America, more about our families back in their villages, who would be settling in now for winter's cold. Nights I longed ashamedly for the fires of home. When we were down to one meal every two days, we began to sit in stillness about the deck, clustered in small groups, talking little, conserving energy.

My eighteenth birthday passed, unobserved. Perhaps Konrad was toasting me back in Hatzbach. I hoped my brother imagined me safe and warm, with a full belly, my face still glowing with the spirit that had warmed it as I had taken leave of him and home.

I barely slept that last night knowing we were finally approaching New York City. I dreamt of sausage and sauerkraut, of bread and cheese and eggs, of cold milk and hot cider. 

We should have risen to find ourselves in port celebrating. Instead I was jarred awake, disoriented, as six weeks of rocking lurched into a sudden, shuddering tension. I jumped up and walked straight into the wall, fumbled for the door, found my way to the deck. 

Chaos. The captain was barking orders, yelling to the passengers to stay below, even as sea water poured across the deck. I lost my footing in the mad scramble, an elbow jabbed my head. I tore my knee on the rough deck boards as I fought to right myself and rise above the salty gush.

I felt no sting from my slashed knee, nor did I feel the burn of the rope as I caught hold of the closest mesh of rigging. Coughing and spitting, I pulled myself up instinctively, one hand over another. Up, up, until the water broke across my shins, and higher, out of reach of the sea's rough tongue.

I did not stop until there was nowhere else to go, and leaning my torso into the wind to steady myself. I wrapped both arms around the beam. I looped one leg over the lashing rope, one arm under the other leg, until I was bound in crisscrossing ropes. They rubbed against my shirt and across my wet skin with every fierce shudder of the ship, but when the wind was right my weight rested against the beam for a few seconds.

From this pained perch, I turned my head dizzily to see what was happening below. I could not bear to look for long. I cannot bear to remember every detail, though many of the sights still haunt me.

The surf rolled across the ship as if the deck were a strand of beach in high tide. Some of my fellow passengers were climbing; some were clinging to each other, unable to hoist themselves out of reach, gulping for air as they were clobbered by waves of water every few seconds. One woman jumped straight up with each crest. In another place, she would be laughing, playing at the seashore. Here, her face twisted in horror. 

As they gave up the fight, bodies went limp and were battered about, a few lifted up and over the rails with each rhythmic wave. The silver hair of an old man flared in the water. A baby, tossed over the deck rail and back, like a doll in a careless child's game. A muscled man, shirtless and limp, rolled over and over in graceless somersaults.

I squeezed my eyes shut; began beseeching God.

A cannon's distant roar. A lifeline shot over our heads dropped into the rigging. Beneath me, the crew scrambled to secure the line before it slipped back into the sea. 

I squinted and shook water off my face, straining to see as the shape of a small boat formed in the fog, inching closer to the crippled ship. Our first hero appeared as an angel from heaven manning this little boat; a dark-haired young American in a heavy raincoat. He was grabbing the line hand-over-hand, guiding the small boat over the rolling waves toward us.

As the lifeboat approached the ship, Captain Henry steadied himself on the lifeline directly below me. He turned and looked over his shoulder at the bodies floating and washed against the rails. He gazed up at the rigging; at his passengers, who had scampered up the ropes like rats escaping the wrath of the ship's cook. 

Captain Henry shook his head. Water dripped from his chin, and I saw his jaw clench, again and again. He looked up, met my eyes and cringed. And then he was gone. Over the rail, into the ship's shadow. 

When the lifeboat emerged inching back toward the shore in the gray light, Captain Henry was in it, with half a dozen passengers and crew. The boat bounced violently. Arms rose up like sea serpents, grabbing for a berth, but the crew beat them back. They kicked them away, falling into each other, until a wave caught the boat and spilled the whole lot of them into the churning sea. 

Heads popped up, gasping, and spitting. Four or five men clung to the capsized boat and kicked toward shore. Captain Henry's face was among them. 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

 Grandpa Henry's story ended here, not telling how they were finally rescued. Captain Thomas J Henry and crew shamelessly abandoned ship, leaving the immigrants to fend for themselves until help finally arrived. The following link is to a report published  in 1907 that goes into greater detail about the disaster and the eventual rescue.

https://theneweraprojectdotcom1.files.wordpress.com/2012/06/sacshe-article-on-new-era.pdf

   

Third Cousins Meet

I had a very nice visit from Robert Hilgenbrink on New Years Day, 2015. Robert is pictured on the left and myself on the right.  I found Robert in my genealogy research and had been in contact with him through email. Robert is also researching his genealogy and we have some common ancestors. I determined, with the help of a relationship chart, that Robert is my third cousin, once removed. That basically means that we share a ancestor but Robert and I are from different generations. The common ancestor is John Schell Sr (Johann Schehl). I am five generations from John Schell Sr., whereas Robert is only four generations from him. And Robert is about a year younger than me! That's just how it worked out. It's too complicated to explain in this post why that happened, but, trust me, it is true. 

Robert called me right after this Christmas (2014) and said he was going to be traveling through my area on his way to take his dog, Liza, to a show in St. Paul. He wondered if we could meet. So, I invited him over to my house and we met for the first time on New Years Day, 2015. It was great to get to know each other and we were able to compare some notes on our genealogy. I think this will be a very beneficial relationship as we both do not know much about each other's Schell branch. As I mentioned, our common ancestor is John Schell Sr. Robert is descended from John's son, George, whereas, I am descended from John's son, Peter. Robert had been stationed in Germany when he was in the service back in the 1970s and his Hilgenbrink family roots are more in northern Germany near the Dutch border. He has visited that area and also entertained in his home some relatives from that region. When I showed him where Erfweiler was on a map, he was surprised that when he was stationed in Germany he was actually not that far from Erfweiler. He would like to visit Erfweiler on some future trip to Germany.

This is just another great benefit from researching genealogy...... finding and meeting cousins you never knew existed. From meeting cousins Terry Emerson and Marjorie Jones in California to Friedbert Schehl all the way over in Stuttgart, Germany, it has been a real delight in getting to know these people and make the connections. I can only imagine who I will find in the future!

Schell Journey from Erfweiler to Quincy

First, obviously, I took some time off from writing this blog, but I didn’t realize it had been 6 months! I never intended for it to be that long, but this summer was just to nice to be indoors working on anything. Then, my sister, Cindy, and I made a genealogy trip back out to the Family History Library in Salt Lake City in October. And now, here we are and it’s almost 2015! Procrastination may have played a part in this delay, too. So, now it’s time to get back to work on this blog.

This blog tells the story of John and Barbara Schell’s [johann Schehl] journey from Erfweiler, Germany to Quincy, Illinois. I must warn you that some of this is speculation. I have not found reliable primary sources to prove some of this, and I will try to let you know what is proven.

John and Barbara left LeHavre, France on February 11, 1832 aboard the ship Edward Quesnal heading for New York City. John put this date on his declaration of his intent to become a citizen and I did find the passenger record for the ship when it arrived in New York on March 15, 1832. This arrival date was also on his declaration of intent. The problem with the ship’s passenger list is that John and Barbara were the last ones listed on the page; I can find no continuation where the children would be listed. There were two daughters born before they left Erfweiler, Germany and would have been teenagers in 1832. It is possible that they could have remained behind with relatives, but they had a son, Peter, born in LeHavre, France, either in 1828 or 1830. He should be somewhere on the passenger list, but I haven’t located him.

Now comes an interesting tale about their son, John, Jr. who was about 11 years old when they left LeHavre. The family must have arrived in LeHavre about 1825. Their is an Adams Co., IL history that has a biographical sketch of the family and it says that they stayed in LeHavre for seven years. While there, they somehow became acquainted with the great American author, Washington Irving! I was very skeptical about this tale until I found a book written by Washington Irving where he mentions John, Jr. by name and that the family later moved to Quincy. It seems as though Washington Irving took young John, Jr. back to New York with him where he employed him as a servant. In this same autobiography, Irving gives the date they left LeHavre and the name of the ship. He also is traveling with companions Charles J Latrobe and Albert-Alexander de Pourtalès. With the name of the ship and an approximate arrival about a month later in New York, I was able to locate the passenger list. The first person listed has the first name partially covered by something, but what can be made out is “gton Irving, Esq”. But down farther on the list is CJ Latrobe and A de Pourtalis! This has to be the ship with Washington Irving. Also listed elsewhere is a John L(?) Schnell, however, the age looks like it is written as 22! John, Jr. was only 11 so I assume it is a clerical error. But this encounter with Washington Irving did take place!

While in New York City, Barbara gave birth to a daughter, Philippine, on November 25, 1833. Again, I haven't located primary proof of that birth. Most of the sources have the family arriving in Quincy in 1835. This is based upon two different histories of Adams Co., Illinois but I do not know who gave the information. The second of the histories was printed in 1879 before Barbara Schell had died and it says they arrived in Quincy in 1835. After they arrived in Quincy, Barbara gave birth to another daughter, Maria Anna, but the information I got from Marjorie Martin Jones gives the birth year as 1834! Again, I have no confirmation of a primary source. But it does look as though the family arrived sometime 1834-1835. Another son, George, was born in Quincy on September 22, 1839.

Now for the interesting journey from New York City to Quincy, Illinois. This information was taken from that Adams County history book that had the biographical sketch of the family. I must caution you that the book was printed in 1919 more than 30 years after Barbara has died and there is no way to know who gave the information. I assume it was a family member but the journey had been 84 years before this book was published. But here is what it said. They left New York City and headed toward Buffalo and Lake Erie. I am thinking they may have traveled up the Hudson River to the Erie Canal which had opened in 1825. From Buffalo they crossed Lake Erie and arrived in Cleveland, Ohio.

(Sorry about the fuzziness on the above map) If they debarked at Cleveland, then they probably took the Ohio and Erie Canal which had opened by 1833 and would have taken them from Cleveland down to the Ohio River. From there, they took a boat down the Ohio and up the Mississippi to their journey's end in Quincy, Illinois. It was an all-water route, if this is correct, which was probably a lot easier than traveling over land by wagon!

The Ohio Canal map was found at the website parks.ohiodnr.gov. The US map is from a collection from the University of South Florida. Their website is http://etc.usf.edu/maps. Source: Dixon Ryan Fox, Harper's Atlas of American History (New York, NY: Harper & Brothers Publishers , 1920) 38 Map Credit: Courtesy the private collection of Roy Winkelman.

John and Barbara Schell: On their Way to America

In the last post, Johann and Barbara Schehl were preparing to leave Erfweiler for America. They traveled to the port of LeHavre-de-Grace, France where they resided for seven years. Johann had a job as an inspector of ship loading. While in LeHavre, Barbara gave birth to Peter on December 13, 1828. They would eventually leave for America aboard the ship Edward Quesnal on February 11, 1832. That means if they resided in LeHavre for seven years, then they arrived about 1825  from Erfweiler. I have located the passenger record from this ship arriving in New York City on Mar 14, 1832 and this information agrees with Johann’s “Intent to Naturalize” which I also have. So, I am fairly certain that this passenger record is the one. The only problem I have with this passenger record is the absence of daughter, Apollonia, who would be about age 13 and Peter who would be about age 4. Johann and Barbara’s names are at the bottom of the ship register page. It is possible that there was a following page that was not microfilmed. I don’t believe they would have been left behind, but I don’t have an explanation as to why they are not on the ship’s register.

Another son, Johannes (John Jr.) was also not on the ship’s register. But that leads to a very interesting tale and explanation. The family’s biography that I found in an Adams County history volume claims that Johann, while in LeHavre,  became acquainted with the famous American author, Washington Irving (of “Legend of Sleepy Hollow” fame). It claimed that Irving took a fancy to son John Jr. who would have been about age 11 or 12 and his parents gave permission for John Jr. to accompany Irving back to New York. It is always important to check for accuracy of statements like this. So, I went to the library of the University of Northern Iowa here in Cedar Falls to look for information about this claim. I really did not have much hope of finding anything that might prove this claim. I found a biography (by Stanley T. Williams) and an autobiography by Irving that both have references to John Schell! Therefore, I can verify that our ancestor did travel to New York City with the famous author, Washington Irving in 1832.

I have not been able to find anything about John and Barbara’s life in New York City except that their daughter, Philippine, was born there on November 25, 1833. She would later be known as Phoebe and married John Schwitring. Their last name would eventually be “Americanized” to Sweetring; they resided in Adams County, Illinois.

John, Barbara and family would leave New York probably sometime in 1834. Their daughter, Philippine was born in November, 1833 and their daughter, Maria Anna, was born in Quincy, Illinois in 1834. In the next posting, I will show the interesting, all-water route that the Schell family took from New York City to Quincy, Illinois and their early life in Quincy.

John Schell, Sr.- the Original Schell Immigrant

Arrow shows Schell ancestral area

John Schell, Sr. was the head of the first of our Schell family lines to come to America. Back in Germany, he was known as Johann Schehl. I am not certain as to why or who changed the name. It could have been to Americanize the name, but I do not know that for certain. Johann was born in Erfweiler, Pfalz, Germany on May 16, 1788. One year after Johann’s birth, this area would come under the control of Napoleon. He would continue to control the area until his defeat in 1815. After that, this Pfalz region was actually a part of the Kingdom of Bavaria. The Pfalz region of Germany was called Rhenish Bavaria. The word “Rhenish” refers to its location near the Rhine River.  I was privileged to have been able to visit Erfweiler in the fall of 2013 and you can see some pictures of it in my earlier posts on the trip to Europe.

Napoleon

This next part is taken from a biography in an Adams County, Illinois history book. I warn you that much of this has not been corroborated, but it is quite a story about Johann before he came to America. If it is true, it could certainly explain why he would have wanted to leave this part of Germany. I also do not know who provided the information as this book was printed well after Johann had died.

Johann, it is claimed, had served in Napoleon’s army for eleven years. The area was under French control; so he may have not had a choice. It says that he served in Spain (The Peninsular War: 1808-1814). That could be true as he would have been age 20 in 1808. He was taken prisoner by the Spaniards and treated brutally. The Spaniards said they would release him upon the condition of him joining the British army. Britain was Spain’s ally in this war. Johann agreed and the British sent him to Canada for three years. He was eventually released and returned home to Germany. That is quite a story if true!

After he returned, Johann married Barbara Zwick on February 17, 1817.  Barbara  was from the nearby community of Bruchweiler. They had a daughter, Appolonia born on May 2, 1819 followed by son, John, Jr. on June 7, 1821. They would have two more daughters, Barbara and Margaretha, who died as infants. According to church records, there was another son, Friedrich, born on July 17, 1827 and I have not been able to find out what became of him. He was not with them in America and I suspect he may have died young also. I just have no proof of that yet.

The Schehl family would leave for America in February of 1832 and I will continue with that story in my next post.

Peter Schell

Sadly, we are getting to the part of my family history where there are no pictures. I will make an attempt to include a map, chart, or something of interest to add to the story where possible. 

 My last post on the paternal side was about Peter Florian Schell. This post is about his father Peter. He was born in LeHavre, France on December 13, 1828. The family was awaiting their departure for America. The family arrived in New York City on March 15, 1832 aboard the ship Edward Quesnal. While in New York, the family had a daughter, Phillippine, born on November 25, 1833. A biography in an Adams County history book claims they left for Quincy, Adams County, Illinois in 1835. I have a book about St. Boniface Catholic Church in Quincy which has a list of the original members and it says the family arrived in Quincy in 1836. I will have more to say in a later post about Peter’s father, John, that will have more details about  the family coming to America.

Peter married Sofia Sanders (Zanders) in Quincy on July 5, 1853. They had three sons: Reinold (my great grandfather) who was born in 1856, Peter Florian (from the last post) born in 1857, and George who appears to be a twin of Peter Florian but dies before attaining his first birthday.

The real tragedy of this family happens on March 13, 1858 in Quincy when Peter dies at the age of 29 of small pox. The Quincy Daily Herald had the following obituary on March 16, 1858. They had quite a flowery way of putting things back then:

“Death of Peter Schell- We regret to be compelled to perform the melancholy duty of chronicling the death of this worthy man. He died at the residence of his father, in this city, on Saturday last, of small pox. He was a young man of sterling worth, and was universally esteemed. His funeral took place on Sunday, and his mortal remains were followed to the tomb by a large concourse of citizens who had known and appreciated his many virtues”

He died very young, but thank goodness, he had a few children before his passing. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be making this report! It always amazes me how fate plays such an interesting role in family histories. 

The chart below shows the Schell line from my father, William, to Peter

Our Tinman- Peter Florian Schell

Peter Florian Schell lived his entire life in Quincy, Illinois. He was born on October 27, 1857. I am thinking he had a twin brother, George, who apparently died in infancy, but I have no proof of this yet. Peter also had another brother; Reinold Schell, who is my great grandfather.  Peter’s parents were Peter Schell and Sofia Sanders Schell. Peter Florian died on November 17, 1929.

Peter was a tinner by trade. If you look at the hat that he is wearing in the picture below, it looks to be metallic. My uncle Mark Schell thinks it could have been a ceremonial hat for parades. Quincy seemed to like parades a lot. I have run across many stories about all kinds of parades they had there- mostly in the late 1800s and early 1900s. So, this hat could very well have been for that purpose.

Pictured below is a combination of Peter F and Reinold Schell’s families. The only one not pictured is Reinold; so I assume he is the one taking the picture. From the left to the right and standing in the back are Cornelia and Florence- both daughters of Peter, then comes Peter Florian in the shiny hat, Helen and Pauline, both daughters of Reinold. All the children in the front are Reinold’s. The children, from left to right, are Paul, Rose, Carl (my grandfather), Eugene, and Coletta. The first woman on the left has not been identified, but I am inclined to think it may be Peter and Reinold’s mother, Sofia. The next woman I believe is Peter’s second wife, Frances Werneth. The third woman is Reinold’s wife Sophie Helen Kolker Schell.

As I mentioned above, Peter’s second wife was Frances Werneth. His first wife was Matilda “Tillie” Grether and she was the mother of nine children born between 1878 and 1890.

Peter is also the great grandfather of Terry Emerson, the cousin we found through genealogy living in California. I have mentioned Terry in a previous posting January of 2013; it was at the beginning of this blog and only my second posting. You can see it again in the archived postings on the right side of the blog page.