Note: In this post, I introduce readers to the famous German actor and theater director Emil Thomas, the illegitimate son of my second great granduncle Dr. Jonas Bruck. Exceptionally well-known in Germany, he had a more than 50-year long career and was hailed in his New York Times death notice as “one of the most artistic comedians on the German stage.”
My English fourth cousin, Helen, Winter, née Renshaw, recently suggested I write a blog story about a man named Emil Thomas. As the name did not immediately resonate, I checked my ancestral tree and surprisingly discovered I have him there as Emil Bruck. Having obviously come across his name somewhere but with no vital information, I assumed he had died at birth, and was the stillborn fourth son of my second great granduncle and -aunt Jonas Bruck (1813-1883) (Figure 1) and Rosalie Bruck, née Marle (1817-1890). (Figure 2) I was to learn differently, particularly as Helen’s suggestion came accompanied by a picture of the once living and distinguished looking Emil Thomas. (Figure 3)
I quickly discovered that Emil Thomas was a famous German actor and theater director. I suspect a German not knowing Emil Thomas would be tantamount to an American not knowing John Wayne. As Emil was well known, finding out about him was not difficult. Information can be found on German Wikipedia as well as in two German-language books he wrote that, unfortunately, have not been translated into English.
Given my familiarity with Jonas and Rosalie’s other three highly accomplished sons, it struck me as odd that I hadn’t previously come across Emil’s biography. In the ensuing presentation, I will briefly focus on Emil’s private rather than public persona, as my interest is primarily understanding his relationship to his father and family, not in examining his career or his bond to his legion of fans. Let me briefly explore what I’ve uncovered with the help of a German fourth cousin Thomas Koch who summarized some of what Emil himself wrote.
Emil Thomas’ father, Dr. Jonas Bruck, studied medicine and dentistry in Berlin. While there, he had an affair with an Emma Tobias (1810-1878). By all accounts, Jonas marrying Emma would have been a perfectly acceptable match since she was Jewish and of equivalent social rank. For whatever reason, this did not happen.
Rosalie Marle, the Jewish lady Jonas Bruck eventually married, was the daughter of a banker to the Prince of Pless. The Duchy of Pless was one of the Duchies of Silesia with its capital at Pless [today: Pszczyna, Poland]. During the War of the Austrian Succession from 1740 to 1748, most of Silesia including Pless was conquered by the kingdom of Prussia. The dukes, and later Princes, of Pless, however, held on to their territory.
My German fourth cousin’s great-aunt Bertha Bruck (1873-1957) (Figure 4) wrote a memoir in which she remarks that Rosalie Marle was one of the most beautiful dancers in the court of Pless. Jonas Bruck may have been following his family’s wishes when he married Rosalie, or simply his heart, though marrying her could have been a transactional decision based on the greater perceived benefits he might accrue. One may never know.
On ancestry.com, I was able to locate the birth register listing for Emil Thomas, showing he was born on the 24th of December 1836 and was named Ludwig Heinrich Emil Tobias. (Figures 5a-b) Only his mother’s name is given, Emma Tobias; the father is unidentified. Intriguingly, when Emil was baptized the following year on the 20th of April 1837, a Brookzahnarzt, “the dentist Brook,” the surname oddly spelled the Americanized way like my own, was in attendance; the first name is illegible but is no doubt Jonas. This suggests there was no real effort to conceal the identity of the father. And in German Wikipedia, it is explicitly written that Emil was the son of a dentist.
German Wikipedia goes on to say that Emil showed an early interest in the theater, going so far as to do an apprenticeship as a bookbinder thinking this profession would give him access to reading many plays. He had a very varied career, highlights of which can be found in the Jewish Encyclopedia. (Figure 6) He died on the 19th of September 1904 in Berlin, and his death was reported in the New York Times the following day.
Emil Thomas married the soprano singer Betty Damhofer (Figure 7), born Barbara Damhofer, on the 12th of December 1878 in Hamburg, Germany. (Figures 8a-c) Emblematic of what I often rail about is that on the cover page of Emil and Barbara’s marriage certificate in ancestry.com, Barbara’s date of birth is shown as the 14th of December 1837, erroneous information that has been disseminated. I had the good fortune to find Barbara Damhofer’s birth register listing showing she was really born on the 14th of December 1847 in Vienna, Austria, though the birth was only recorded on the 16th of December 1847. (Figures 9a-b) Even reliable sources like ancestry.com can incorrectly decipher or transcribe handwritten texts. Like her future husband, Barbara was born out of wedlock, though her father, Johann Nepomuk Damhofer (b. 1824), eventually wound up marrying her birth mother, Bibiana Winter (b. 1824).
At the registry office both Emil and Barbara claimed they were “Christian.” This is strange because spouses normally indicated they were either “Roman Catholic” or “Evangelical Lutheran.” Barbara came from a Catholic home and Emil was Evangelical Lutheran; Emil’s mother, as previously stated, was Jewish.
Emil Thomas’s first book, “40 jahre schauspieler. Erinnerungen aus meinem leben,” was published in 1895.
On page 240, Emil talks about his mother (translated):
“Unfortunately, a very hard blow hit me this year [EDITOR’S NOTE: 1878] on the 6th of November. My good mother, whose idol and only son I was, who found in me all her happiness and the right to live, was to be taken from this earth. . .At 7 o’clock in the evening I closed my good mother’s eyes forever and at 8:30 my duty called me to the theater. . .”
Then, on page 266, presumably referring to the year 1879, he writes:
“The sole purpose of a guest performance in Breslau {EDITOR’S NOTE: Wrocław, Poland] was not to collect money and laurels, but mainly to introduce my relatives living there (my father, stepmother, and brothers) to my wife. It was a cheerful, sunny time that we spent very intimately in the family circle.”
The important takeaway is that Emil had a cordial relationship with his birth father and his family. And, according to family accounts, like Jonas’ three other sons, he inherited some money upon his father’s death in 1883.
Unbeknownst to most people, German marriage certificates include a second page with the names and signatures of the spouses and witnesses (i.e., most ancestral researchers fail to scroll to the second page). (see Figure 8c) Hoping that Jonas Bruck might have attended his son’s 1878 marriage to Barbara Damhofer, I discovered he had not.
Further proof that Emil Thomas was considered a member of the extended family comes from another memoir, that of Eberhard Friedrich Bruck (1877-1960) (Figure 10), Helen Winter’s grandfather. He writes that he considered his father’s half-brother Emil to be one of his uncles.
One of the sources for Emil Thomas’ Wikipedia entry is an obituary written by a fellow actor and playwright in a 1904 volume of “Die Woche” (Figure 11), an illustrated weekly newspaper published in Berlin from 1899 to 1944. The writer of the piece co-authored a very popular German play from the 1930s entitled “White Horse Inn” (The White Horse Inn – Wikipedia). The obituary contains a disappointing lack of information saying merely that Emil Thomas was famous throughout Germany; that he was very vain; and that he was excellent company and enjoyed a good bottle of wine. I suppose worse could be said of someone upon their death.
Note: In this post, I discuss how I recently came into possession of images of ancestors from a branch of my family that originates mostly from Breslau [today:Wrocław, Poland], and learned about a memoir written by the grandfather of the English lawyer who shared these pictures.
A scant three months ago, on the 29th of September 2023 to be precise, I received an email from a lawyer living in Wolverhampton in the West Midlands of England, Helen Winter, née Renshaw. (Figure 1) I say “scant” because in the short period since we’ve been in touch, we’ve already exchanged several hundred emails.
In Helen’s initial missive, she explained that she is a descendant of the Bruck family and that her maternal grandfather was Professor Eberhard Friedrich Bruck (1877-1960). (Figure 2) He taught law at the University of Bonn until enactment of “The Law for the Restoration of the Professional Civil Service” (German: Gesetz zur Wiederherstellung des Berufsbeamtentums, shortened to Berufsbeamtengesetz) by the Nazis on the 7th of April 1933. The primary objective of this law was to establish a “national” and “professional” civil service by dismissing certain groups of tenured civil servants, including individuals of Jewish descent and non-Aryan origins. Additionally, the law forbade Jews, non-Aryans, and political opponents from holding positions as teachers, professors, judges, or within the government. It also extended to other professions such as lawyers, doctors, tax consultants, musicians, and notaries.
Following Eberhard’s dismissal as university professor and confiscation of his home, he fled to the United States and wound-up teaching at Harvard University. As Helen further explained, her grandfather wrote a memoir for his daughter, Helen’s mother (Figure 3), relating the history of his branch of the Bruck family. As a Christmas gift to her nephews and nieces, Helen has slowly been translating the account. Her grandfather’s chronicle makes mention of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, the family business in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland] owned by three generations of my family. (Figure 4) While researching the history and fate of the hotel, Helen stumbled on multiple blog posts where I made mention of the establishment.
Helen has promised to share her grandfather’s translated story but has given me a preview of the brief entry her grandfather Eberhard Bruck wrote about his great-grandfather, Jacob Nathan Bruck, my great-great-great-grandfather from Ratibor. Since Jacob arguably died in 1832 or 1836 and Eberhard was born in 1877, he would not have known him personally. Eberhard’s written accounts of Jacob are likely stories he heard about him growing up and may have been clouded by the lens through which childhood memories are often remembered. In an upcoming post, I intend to discuss the meager details I’ve been able to uncover about my earliest known ancestor from Ratibor but suffice it for now to say the particulars caused me to more thoroughly investigate when the Bruck’s Hotel might have been built. These findings will be the basis for yet another post because they give insights on avenues others may want to follow in examining their own family histories.
On various occasions I’ve told readers that my ancestral tree has fewer than 1,500 names, which pales in comparison to multiple trees I’ve come across with more than 100,000 names. I use my tree mostly to orient myself to the people I write about on my blog. That said, I have people in my tree, living and deceased, whose names I’ve come across without knowing anything about them. This was the case with my fourth cousin Thomas “Tom” Friedrich Brook until he contacted me asking if we were related; I wrote about Tom in Post 143. (Figure 5) This was also true of Helen who previously existed only as a wraith. Coincidentally, Tom and Helen Winter are second cousins who’ve never met (i.e., Helen and Tom’s grandfathers were brothers), and like Tom, Helen is my fourth cousin.
In conjunction with translating her grandfather’s memoirs, Helen recently obtained family documents and pictures her older sister was curating. (Figure 6) Scrutinizing these items in combination has caused Helen to become obsessed with ancestral research. I can relate!
It is not my intention to further dwell on this branch of my family. However, as I just mentioned, I have numerous individuals in my tree I know nothing about and have no idea what they looked like. As names only, they are lifeless. Helen has been like the gift that keeps on giving because she has sent me pictures of many of my ancestors, including some of the earliest known ones from Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland]. Acquiring these visuals for my ancestral tree is like filling in my Bingo card!
Among the most beguiling images Helen sent are ones of Jacob Bruck’s son and daughter-in-law, Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck (1813-1883) (Figures 7a & b-10) and Rosalie Bruck, née Marle (1817-1890) (Figures 11-12) and his famous grandson, Dr. Julius Bruck (1840-1902). (Figure 13) Julius is known for having designed in 1867 a water-cooled diaphanoscopic instrument for transillumination of the bladder via the rectum.
Jonas and Julius Bruck and their respective wives are interred in a mausoleum-like structure at the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław, Poland (Figure 14), and are among my only Bruck ancestors whose burial location is known. Because I am friends with the Branch Manager of the Old Jewish Cemetery, Dr. Renata Wilkoszewska-Krakowska (Figure 15), I shared the pictures Helen sent with her and she was thrilled to receive them since some of the people are interred in “her” cemetery.
To close this post, I will share two other images (Figures 16-17) Helen has sent over the last several weeks, like the twelve daily gifts of Christmas! Suffice it to say, my Bingo card is becoming quite full!
Note: In this post, I briefly discuss some primary source documents sent to me by a reader mentioning one of my renowned ancestors, Dr. Jonas Bruck (1813-1883) from Wrocław, Poland [German: Breslau], who owned an inn 120 miles away in the town of Zyttna, Prussia [Żytna, Poland]. Initially uncertain whether this related to my great-great-granduncle, after having the documents translated, I confirmed it was indeed his property.
I beg the indulgence of readers as I continue my examination of primary source documents related to some of my earliest Bruck relatives from Silesia. For reference, in Post 144, I discussed primary source documents referring to my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck (1808-1863) who is thought to have been the original owner of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland], the family business there owned through three generations.
In this post, I briefly examine a document citing Dr. Jonas Bruck (1813-1883) who was Samuel’s younger brother. (Figure 1) The first mention I found of Jonas was in the same 1820 publication, entitled “Denkschrift über die feierliche Eröffnung des Königl. Evangel. Gymnasium zu Ratibor am 2 Juni 1819” by Dr. Carl Linge, where his older brother Samuel was listed. (Figures 2a-c) Translated as “Memorandum on the ceremonial opening of the Royal Evangelical High School in Ratibor on June 2, 1819,” this publication names all the students who attended the inaugural class upon the high school’s opening in June of 1819.
The Bruck surname was reasonably common in Upper Silesia where my father’s family was concentrated for more than 100 years. When I come across mention of the family surname, I am apt to only make a mental note unless I’m aware of an ancestral connection to the town in question or unless the citation mentions ancestors to which I can link to on my ancestral tree. Thus, a question I received in June from a Polish gentleman named Mr. Jan Krajczok who lives in Rybnik, Poland caused me outwardly to have a dismissive reaction. However, his family’s three centuries-long connection to the nearby village of Żytna (i.e, Rybnik and Żytna are only about 10 miles apart) and the latter’s proximity to Ratibor, where many Brucks hail from, gave me pause. (Figure 3)
Let me provide a little more background. Mr. Krajczok was referred to me by my retired lawyer friend from Racibórz, Paul Newerla, who has written extensively about the history of Ratibor and Silesia. While helping his friends from nearby Żytna, Poland [Germany: Zyttna, Prussia], Jan checked land registration records of 19th century owners in the village and in Register 34 seemingly found Jewish surnames; if true, these surnames would relate to the memories and oral histories of current town dwellers who recall stories of purported Jewish owners of an inn in Zyttna. According to Jan, while the inn no longer stands photos supposedly survive along with a beer glass from the inn. Jan explained that he is trying to find a connection between the last owners listed in the register and the people who occupy the space now.
While researching names found in the primary source documents, including “Heimann Ajruck (which he thinks is “Bruck”),” “Moses Mendel Bruck,” and “Jonas Bruck,” Jan stumbled upon my blog. (Figures 4a-c) He found mention I had made of “my” Dr. Jonas Bruck in Post 68, among others. To remind readers, Dr. Jonas Bruck was the father of my famed ancestor, Dr. Julius Bruck (1840-1902) (Figure 5), from Breslau, Prussia [today: Wrocław, Poland]. I don’t expect readers to recall but in 1867 Dr. Julius Bruck designed a water-cooled diaphanoscopic instrument for translumination of the bladder via the rectum; this instrument consisted of an illuminated platinum thread inserted into a double glass wall cylinder with the instrument’s outer glass chamber cooled by water. Julius and his father Jonas, and their respective wives are interred in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław in a mausoleum-like structure that has been restored. (Figure 6)
Jan wondered whether Dr. Jonas Bruck from Breslau and Jonas Bruck from Zyttna could have been one and the same. Żytna and Wrocław are about 120 miles apart (Figure 7), so I was hard pressed to imagine why the dentist would have owned or managed an inn in Zyttna, unless of course it was an investment which he leased to a tenant. While I was dubious of the link, I’ve been working on my ancestry for long enough to realize that seemingly unrelated people and places connect in unexpected ways. For this reason, I promised Jan that I would ask my German friend, Peter Hanke, the “Wizard of Wolfsburg,” to translate the German-language documents.
My friend Peter learned the following from the land registration records. Under “Moses Mendel Bruck,” the register shows that on the 26th of November 1842 he purchased the plot of land with a building from Adolph Richter for 14 Reichsthaler. (see Figure 4c) Ownership was documented on the 4th of April 1846. The next entry confirms the involvement of “the dentist Dr. Jonas Bruck.” On the 18th of December 1845 he buys the inn from Moses Mendel Bruck for 35 Reichsthaler, and his ownership is also documented on the 4th of April 1846. Dr. Jonas Bruck sells the inn to Johann Kotzian between the 23rd of May 1859 and the 24th of June 1859 for 35 Reichsthaler.
The relationship of Moses Mendel Bruck and Jonas Bruck is not evident to me since I don’t have Moses in my family tree and have never found mention of him in my research. I suspect that he may have been one of Jonas and Samuel Bruck’s older brothers, but this is mere conjecture.
In any case, notwithstanding my doubt as to Dr. Jonas Bruck’s involvement in the ownership of an inn at quite a remove from Wrocław, this is yet another reminder to myself that when researching Bruck relatives in Silesia I should keep an open mind as to how far afield I’m likely to discover relevant information.
Naturally, I shared Peter Hanke’s translation of the primary source documents from Żytna with Jan Krajczok, who in turn shared them with the villagers. The townspeople were absolutely thrilled that evidentiary materials confirmed what had previously only been a faint recollection that a Jewish family had owned an inn in town during the 19th century. Paraphrasing Jan, what was also particularly satisfying is that a historic connection to Jews once living in the area that the Communists had sought to eradicate had been reaffirmed.
Jan concurred that as improbable as it seems that a dentist from Wrocław would own an inn and a plot of land in a small village 120 miles away, he could well imagine that Jonas was the formal owner and that he employed someone to run the establishment.
Karczma in Polish means inn. Jan happens to be a teacher of literature and philosophy and clarified that in Polish culture the person of a Jewish innkeeper is held in high regard. He explained that in Poland’s national poem, Pan Tadeusz—Sir Thaddeus by Adam Mickiewicz, the character Jankiel who is an innkeeper and a friend of the main heroes and a loyal keeper of their secrets, is esteemed and known to virtually all modern-day Poles.
The inn in Żytna was torn down after the war because of its deteriorated condition. Jan sent me a picture postcard of the inn. (Figure 8)
In closing I would note that some contemporaries of our ancestors with identical names have no known connection to our forebears, such as the Samuel Bruck from Zülz discussed in Post 144, while others are indeed our relatives, such as the Dr. Jonas Bruck from Żytna. Discerning between the two is not always a simple exercise.
REFERENCE
Linge, Dr. Carl (Director des Gymnasiums zu Ratibor) (1820). Denkschrift über die feierliche Eröffnung des Königl. Evangel. Gymnasium zu Ratibor am 2 Juni 1819, nebst den dabei gehaltenen Reden des Consistorialrath Dr. Wachler, und des Dr. Linge, und andern Beilagen herausgegeben von Dr. C. L., etc. The British Library. Digitized: August 20, 2018.
Note: Beginning with this post, I embark on a series of articles about my distinguished second cousin twice removed, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (1872-1937), and his family. By virtue of a fortuitous contact with a German doctor, Dr. Tilo Wahl (Figure 1), I obtained copies of hundreds of images of private papers, photos, and personal effects once belonging to Dr. Bruck. These items offer insights into my relative’s remarkable life including photos of people in my ancestral tree whose likenesses I never expected to find. In this and subsequent posts, I describe the circumstances by which Dr. Wahl obtained these things and some of what I have learned from them.
Increasingly, the inspiration for Blog posts comes from readers, typically from individuals descended from or acquainted with some of the people I have written about. This post stems from such an encounter and involves my renowned ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck (Figure 2), formerly from Breslau, Germany [today: Wrocław, Poland]. Additionally, in recent days, I was contacted by Dr. Bruck’s twin granddaughters who I had not long ago learned had immigrated to Australia in the 1990’s but knew no way of contacting. Amazingly, they stumbled upon my Blog while I was in the midst of writing this post!
Ms. Madeleine Isenberg, my friend affiliated with the Jewish Genealogical Society of Los Angeles (JGSLA), once shared an article she wrote in 2012 for AVOTAYNU about helping a family decimated by the Holocaust reconstruct its history. As I was preparing this post, I recalled a quote from Madeleine’s article that seems relevant to this story on the nature of luck vs. fate: “Once I asked my cousin, the Chief Rabbi of England, Lord Jonathan Sacks, what he thinks about ‘coincidence versus beshert (predestination).’ His immediate response was, ‘There’s no such thing as coincidence, it’s all beshert.’” Another quote I have cited in previous posts by Branch Rickey, the former brainy General Manager of the Los Angeles Dodgers, may also be apt. He used to say, “Luck is the residue of design.” Regardless of whether the ensuing tale is the result of chance or destiny, a remarkable convergence of events resulted in learning about personal items once belonging to one of my ancestors and obtaining copies of all of them.
Let me provide some context. Dr. Walter Bruck (1872-1937) and I are second cousins twice removed. Walter’s grandfather, Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck (1813-1883), was my great-great-granduncle. Walter’s father was Dr. Julius Bruck (1840-1902), a noted dentist I wrote about in Post 68. Drs. Jonas and Julius Bruck and their respective wives, Rosalie Marle (1817-1890) and Bertha Vogelsdorff (1843-1917), are all interred in a restored tomb in the Old Jewish Cemetery in Wrocław, Poland. (Figures 3a-b)
Dr. Walter Bruck was married to a Johanna Elisabeth Margarethe Gräbsch (Figure 4), a non-Jew. Following Walter’s death in 1937, she remained with her half-Jewish daughter Renate Bruck in Breslau for a time until it became too dangerous in the era of the National Socialists. In Post 83, I described the great lengths to which I went to discover what happened to Johanna and Renate Bruck and eventually learned they immigrated to England and died there. It is not clear whether Johanna and Renate moved directly to England or relocated elsewhere to Germany first; I have found a fleeting reference whose source I can no longer recall suggesting they may first have lived in Erfurt, Germany in the state of Thuringia at the address Dammweg 9. (Figure 5)
Walter Bruck’s widow never remarried but through documents I obtained from the United Kingdom’s General Register Office and elsewhere, I learned she died in 1963 (Figure 6), and that Renate Bruck married three times and died in Ramsholt, Suffolk, England in 2013. (Figure 7) According to Renate’s death certificate, her son, Nicholas Francis David Newman, an offspring of Renate’s third marriage, was present when she died. Hoping to contact him, I scoured the GRO database, and sadly discovered he killed himself in 2015. His death certificate, which I also obtained (Figure 8), gives no indication he was ever married nor had any children. The trail thus ran cold, and I naturally assumed this would be the end of things. Good fortune would dictate otherwise.
Recently, through my Blog’s Webmail, I received an intriguing message from a German general practitioner named Dr. Tilo Wahl including several photographs. What promptly caught my attention were the attached pictures of Tilo Wahl sitting alongside Nicholas Newman (Figure 9), Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck’s grandson. Knowing Nicholas had committed suicide in 2015, I assumed these photos had to have been taken shortly before his death. After responding to Dr. Wahl, he would explain the circumstances of his meetup with Nicholas Newman eight years earlier.
Dr. Wahl is a member of the Association of Phaleristics. Unaware of what this term means, I learned it originates from the Greek mythological hero Phalerus (Greek: Phaleros) and the Latin phalera (“heroics”) and is an auxiliary science of history and numismatics which studies orders, fraternities, and award items, such as medals, ribbons, and other decorations. Tilo explained his interest in phaleristics stems from a childhood fascination with recent history and military history, which evolved into collecting Prussian decorations; later, his collecting interest expanded, and he began purchasing groups of awards belonging to individuals, which, in his words, convey a vivid personal history about the former owner.
It turns out that in around 2013, Tilo purchased at auction the medals once belonging to my distinguished ancestor, Dr. Walter Wolfgang Bruck, from Walter’s grandson, Nicholas. Following the transaction, they met in person. To help provide context for the medals he had bought, Nicholas allowed Tilo to photograph many of Dr. Bruck’s personal papers and photographs and sold him other personal effects once belonging to his grandfather.
In the case of Dr. Bruck’s medals, it was clear to whom they originally belonged as they came with documentation. Tilo would later explain to me there exist old annual periodicals (e.g., “Handbuch für den Preußischen Hof und Staat” (a printed guide of the Royal Prussian court and administration); “Ranglisten der Königlich Preußischen Armee” (rank lists of the Prussian Army)) that were once published where persons in official positions and/or of higher rank were mentioned along with the decorations they were awarded. Clearly, for personalized medal groups Tilo purchases that come without attribution, these handbooks are most useful.
Once Tilo has the name of a person connected to a medal group in his collection, he tries to find out as much as possible about them, especially the circumstances under which the individual received the decorations. A collector friend of Tilo’s, knowing of his interest in the Bruck family, informed him of my Blog, and he contacted me through Webmail. This resulted in Dr. Wahl generously sharing with me hundreds of images of medals, papers, letters, telegrams, personal items, photographs, guest registers, etc. belonging to Dr. Bruck.
Among the items shared was a 19-page biography about Dr. Bruck’s ancestors and his early years. I enlisted the assistance of a German friend, Julia Drinnenberg, who recruited her brother-in-law to translate this typed document; I want to acknowledge Julia’s relative, Max Raimann, for his generous assistance translating Walter’s memoir. Unfortunately, the biography only goes as far as around 1894-1895 but it includes some entertaining snippets. It also has fleeting references to a few of Walter’s ancestors that provide a narrow firsthand account of mutual relatives about whom I knew little or nothing. Below I quote at length from his narrative and include a few parenthetical clarifications on some of what Walter reminisces about:
I was born on Sunday, the 4th of March 1872. I was the fourth of my parents’ children. At the time, my father was a private lecturer at the University of Breslau, where he later became the professor Dr. med Julius Bruck.(Figure 10) My mother was born Bertha Vogelsdorff. (Figure 11) At the time, we lived at Schweidnitzerstadtgraen 9, which is now the ‘Café Kaiserkrone.’
My eldest sister Gertrud died in infancy. My next sister was Margarethe. (Figure 12) She married Dr. Wilhelm Prausnitz (Figure 13), who was private lecturer in Munich. In this position he was awarded the ‘Pettenbkopferpreis’ for his research on the ability of rivers to cleanse themselves. He later became ‘Sanitätsrat’ [roughly translatable as ‘Medical Consultant’] and Director of the Hygienic Institute at the University of Graz [Austria].
I was the youngest child and want to describe my career. But first I would like to give some more information about the Bruck family. Our family lived for more than 200 years in Silesia. I was told that my great-grandfather owned a brewery. There were no further details that I could find out about him.
A brief footnote. Based on my knowledge of the Bruck family tree, I think Walter Bruck’s great-grandfather was Jacob Nathan Bruck (1770-1832), born in Pschow, Germany [today: Pszów, Poland] who died in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland]. Jacob was married to Marianne Aufrecht, allegedly born in 1776, place unknown. Given my family’s connection to Ratibor and its association with the brewery and hospitality industries there, it is reasonable to assume these are Walter’s great-grandparents. Portraits of neither are known to exist.
Continuing.
However, I remember my grandfather on my father’s side [Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck] (Figure 15), though I was only eleven years old when he died. He was an excellent physician and dentist by the standard of the times. He published several scientific works, one of which was a textbook on dentistry which had already two editions. He was a leading figure in his field and was made a member of the Imperial Leopoldian-Carolingian Academy of Science in Halle (‘Kaiserlich Leopoldinisch-Carolinschen Akademie der Wissenschaften in Halle’), a special honor at the time.
Dr. Jonas Bruck’s brother, Dr. Moritz Bruck, worked as physician in Berlin and was the author of a book, ‘Über die Asiatisch Cholera’ (About the Asian Cholera).
Disappointingly, Walter Bruck makes no mention of my great-grandfather, Samuel Bruck (Figure 16), the middle brother of Dr. Moritz Bruck and Dr. Jonas Bruck. Samuel was originally a wood merchant before purchasing the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor in the mid-19th century, owned for three generations by my ancestors.
From the time of my grandfather all male members of the family turned to academic professions. This resulted through four generations in a desire for education that was a special mark of our family. With two exceptions, the female members of the family also married men with an academic education. This indicated a desire to continue living in the atmosphere in which they had been raised.
My father’s brothers should also be mentioned. Dr. Adalbert Bruck (Figure 17) was an ‘Amtsgerichsrat’ [Court Judge] and Professor Dr. jur. Felix Bruck (Figure 18) was a ‘Geheimer Justizrat’ [Privy Councilor of Justice].
About the family Vogelsdorff from which my mother is descended there is not much I can write. One of my mother’s brothers, Ludwig Vogelsdorff, acquired great wealth being a wholesaler in velvet, silks, and ribbons in Germany. As a result of inflation and the incompetence of his son and son-in-law there is not much left of the fortune.
My childhood passed like that of most children from our class. There is not much I can tell. I supposedly had a wet nurse who liked cheese and alcohol. This did not apparently have a lasting influence on me since I do not have a particular craving for cheese or alcohol. On the contrary, I have always been moderate as far as alcohol consumption.
I like to recall one episode from my earliest childhood that took place at the so-called summer camps (Sommerquartiere). We moved to the camps during the summers when it got warmer. I have two particularly vivid memories. One of them took place in the Parkstrasse that was owned by Herr Quickert. Around a yard were arranged small houses, opposite which stretched an old unkept garden. In this building, which survives today unchanged, we lived. On another occasion we lived on a plot of land close to the Fürstenbrücke (bridge) on a large plot of land. That plot belonged to the banker family Alexander who were friends of my parents. On the day of our move there, I gave my parents an unpleasant surprise by falling off a swing while they were unpacking. Being sick I had to be put to bed immediately. The Parkstrasse was connected to the town by a horse drawn tram.
There is another pleasant memory of my grandfather [Dr. Jonas Julius Bruck] I like to recall. After lunch he would visit my father Dr. Julius Bruck’s office on Schweidnitzerstrasse opposite the theater. My late brother [Friedrich Wilhelm Bruck] and I went to meet him on the esplanade. If we were on time, we were invited to the Viennese café on the corner of Taschenstrasse and Neue Gasse. It was owned by the Cloin brothers and was so far as I know the first Viennese café in Breslau.
My grandmother [Rosalie Marle] (Figure 20) came from the family Marle, a renowned family from Upper Silesia. I still vividly remember her slipping us sweet morsels to which she was also partial. My grandfather had to keep a strict diet due to his frequent and severe bouts of gout. My grandmother died suddenly at the Café Pupp in Karlsbad [then-Czechoslovakia], while there with my Uncle Felix to enjoy the waters.
My grandfather died in 1883. He had just turned 70. Every year he got from the warden of the esplanade the first chestnuts, an unfailing remedy against gout. He always carried them in his pocket.
After these first childhood years which passed without any remarkable events, ‘real life’ began.
School Years
I entered [school] at the then-popular ‘Wanckelsche Knabenschule’. . .The headmaster was Herr Beisenherz. It was tradition that before his birthday a collection of money was made from all the classes. The profit was used to increase the silver treasure of the family Beisenherz. In return we were treated to streusel cake and hot chocolate on his birthday.
After that period, I became a pupil at the ‘Königliches Freidrichsgymnasium,’ founded by Frederick the Great, which was situated in the Karlstrasse and had a second access from the Schlossplatz. This access was very convenient because it shortened the trip from our flat quite considerably. Also the Schlossplatz was a favorite battle ground for fights with the pupils from the Realgymnasium. Brawls between both parties took place there.
The Friedrichsgymnasium had always been the school of choice for the family Bruck. My father and his brothers went to school there, so it was taken for granted that me and my brother Fritz were going there too. The staff there was quite a queer mixture.
The form master’s name in my first year was initially called Inowrazler, later Inow, and by the time I became his pupil he was known as Jahnow. His son was an Air Force officer who was shot down during WWI. Then we had a Professor Scharnweber, who had already survived several strokes which should in fact have disqualified him from teaching. Then we had a Professor Hirsch with a body like a flagpole and reddish hair that reached nearly to his shoulders. He greased it flat to the sides of his head. He wore glasses that sat at the tip of his nose. He had protruding lips and you would hardly call him a beauty. He wore a winter coat over his vest in summer as well as in winter. When someone had not done his exercises properly, he called out, ‘Sit down, you get a Noll!’ (he wanted to say ‘Null’ or zero). Therefore we nicknamed him ‘Papa Noll.’ He lived with his family near the school. His short, fat wife was an English woman, who often treated us to her singing.
Then there was the limping Professor Menzel and a Professor Michael who always carried a bunch of keys in his hand. During lessons he often pressed clenched fists against the first pupil’s desk. This was an invitation for us to wet the outer edge of the desk with ink. Thus his fingers were always black at the end of the lesson.
In the first years of school I was a good student which delighted my parents and teachers. That changed and my grades diminished, so I was assigned a private tutor, candidate of medicine Leo Wolf. He later became a physician in Metz and after WWI moved to Wiesbaden. He was not a particularly gifted tutor, a fact I used to my advantage. He was lame and walked with a certain rhythm with a stick. When I was in my ‘study’ on the third floor and heard him coming up the stairs, I would climb on the tile stove. When he finally arrived, I started negotiations concerning my homework. I stayed upon the stove until he had met all my demands.
Because my tutor was a romantically minded man, we would read the classics together. I was so enamored of Körner and Schiller that I decided to become a poet too. I even wrote a drama, ‘The End of the Orsini,’ unfinished, which is regrettably lost to posterity. If I obtained an acceptable grade on tests at school, I could attend a performance of a classic play at the theater. The first drama I saw was ‘Zriny’ by Körner. I was so thrilled by the performance I learned whole passages by heart. I can still recite them. My love for the German classics made me plan to study literature. Alas, that plan was never fulfilled.
I was made to dislike school because of the teachers, most of whom were old men, probably senile, who did not know how to kindle any interest in the subjects they were teaching. Thus, my grades slumped despite being gifted.
Before I continue describing my schooling, I would like to recount a little episode which happened during my fifth form in school. An eclipse was expected. Our class was to watch it from Crossen an der Oder, the town where my mathematics teacher was born. My father had given me a gold ten-mark coin. I spent some of it on several glasses of Kümmel (a caraway seed brandy) in a shop opposite the hotel. I must have arrived home in not quite a sober state. In the morning I turned up to watch the eclipse in my brand-new summer coat. Because of the overcast weather we did not get to see much of the eclipse. I was somewhat apprehensive about the reception at home because my coat had been stolen. Against all expectations my parents made light of the affair. When the garment turned up again, the good atmosphere at home was restored. A boy waiter at the hotel had stolen the coat when he noticed I was not quite sober.
Music was important in my parents’ home. My father played the organ quite masterfully. So it was destined I would play an instrument, the violin. At the time in Breslau there existed a music school, von Henschel in the Büttnerstrasse, where I was to learn the basics of playing a violin. It remained at the basics because playing the violin was just not my cup of tea. So I started to take cello lessons. My late brother had played the cello, so there was no need to buy a new instrument. Lessons were given by the then very popular cellist Heyer, with whom I took lessons until he hit me across my fingers with the cello bow. My next teacher was the first cellist of the Breslauer Ochesterverein Josel Melzer, with whom I made great progress and achieved acceptable ability.
My preference for German literature was promoted through a reading circle, where we read the classics with each person reciting a different role. We met each Sunday. The members of this circle have in large part been very successful in life. Fritz Gradenwitz became mayor in Kiel, Victor Loewe ‘archivrat’ (Keeper of the State Archive) in Breslau, Walther Freund the head physician of the Breslau Hospital for Infants, Fritz Leppman ‘medizinalrat’ (medical officer) in Berlin and Fritz Juliusburg Professor.
We would convene meetings in ‘Frey’schen Garten’ on Breiten Strasse. Participants included Christian Morganstern, Friedrich Kayseler, and occasionally Otfried Förster, the neurologist who later achieved international fame.
These glorious times ended abruptly when my grades fell through the pastimes my father characterized as ‘shenanigans.’ I was sent to live with my father’s former house tutor, Oberlehrer Bernhardt, in Striegau [32 miles west of Breslau] in 1887. I can still clearly remember my arrival in this beautifully situated town. On a sunny January Sunday it was bitterly cold, and an old-fashioned vehicle brought me and my parents to the house of the coppersmith Rückert on Jauerstrasse. The family Bernhardt lived on the first floor. With trepidation I accompanied my parents to the railway station, and I was left in a strange town.
Bernhardt was a great man, gifted as a poet, jovial, and an unparalleled educator. I followed him with all the enthusiasm of a 15-year-old, and we became the best of friends notwithstanding the large difference in age. As his wife was a high-minded person who made his life difficult, he seemed to enjoy my company. We went for long walks, made occasional detours to ‘Mutter Katzler,’ which his wife was not to know about. There we ate a big chunk of garlic sausage. Our walks usually ended at his local tavern as he was not averse to alcohol.
While I did not exactly harvest laurels in Breslau, I became quite a good student in Striegau, where the standards were not as exacting. The headmaster of the Progymnasium favored me and held me up especially in German language as a quintessential student. He was particularly taken with my ‘Lesetagebuch’ (a reading diary as a method of promoting reading) in which I entered quotations from the classics. And the poor, and in part dull, Striegauer students had to keep such a diary as well. But as they were not sure the purpose of a quotation these diaries often were unintentionally comical.
My cello playing continued in Striegau. The Kantor of the Catholic Church, a friendly old gentleman, gave me lessons. Alas, my stay in Striegau was only of a short duration. As the school was a Progymnasium, it did not have the last two years of a Gymnasium.
I next attended the Gymnasium in Jauer [39 miles west of Breslau]. My time there is not among my fondest memories though some amusing incidents took place. The headmaster was an excellent teacher though rather religious. Every day we had prayers before our lessons. Every fortnight we had to partake in a service in the beautiful old Friedenskirche. Overall he was quite a strange person. He kept a hedgehog as a pet. He still wore an upturned collar, which was kept in place by a tie, a long black frock coat, and wore his eyeglasses so he could peer over them at you.
The food was not very good, especially on Wednesdays, when ‘Bierfleisch’ (literally ‘beer meat’) was served. This was the mixed remains of the entire week, beer, beef tallow, etc. It was the fiendish invention of the Frau Direktor, the headmaster’s wife, and spread its undefinable odor in all rooms of the school. On Wednesday afternoon there were no lessons. To compensate for the dreadful meal, after lunch we headed straight for the baker von Fliegener on Marktstrasse for coffee and cakes. Near the station there was a pub where we played billiards and passed the time.
In our boarding house, it was a tradition to pilfer a bottle of ‘Haase-Exportbier’ every night. In the hall of the headmaster’s flat there was a cupboard with this noble beverage. We had a key to this cupboard, so naturally we helped ourselves.
Professor Armbuster, our Greek and German teacher, was a terrible person whose wrath I incurred. He resembled a faun [a man with a goat’s horns, legs, and tail] with a scraggly beard, who was squat of stature, had evil looking eyes and a monstrous mouth, and of course wore spectacles. He wanted to get his revenge on me for some misdemeanor I had committed during a Greek lesson. In the sixth form we had to deliver presentations of Greek texts in German. While translating Herodutus, I had used a cheat sheet from which I delivered my translation, unaware that Professor Armbuster had the same cheat sheet on his desk. As a punishment I was compelled to deliver an essay on a book by Herder that was completely incomprehensible for a sixth form student. The first difficulty was obtaining a copy of the book. With a lot of trouble I got it through the local bookstore. Professor Armbuster probably expected me to turn to him for advice on how to proceed but I refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead I produced such an idiotic essay my fellow students were hard put not to burst out laughing during my presentation. The whole performance was such a disaster, the professor chased me from the pulpit and was so mad I thought he would strangle me.
But my time in Jauer finally came to an end. By then I had given up the idea of studying literature and turned to studying dentistry. I had been encouraged by my father and grandfather. My father qualified as a professor with the later famous anatomist Waldeyer as a physician and dentist. In 1871 he became a private lecturer in dentistry at the medical department of the University of Breslau. With his own money he founded the first dental university institute in Germany. He supported it until it was nationalized in 1890. With nationalization, the teaching was divided into three parts. Professor Carl Partsch became the head of the surgical department. Dr. Wilhelm Sachs, an exceptionally capable and well-known dentist, became head of the division for conservation. And my father became head of the division for dental prosthesis. By then he had been promoted to full professor.
My father published a series of scientific essays which quickly earned him a reputation in professional circles. He invented the stomatoscope for examining oral cavities and the urethroscope for examining the bladder. In all standard textbooks on urology he is mentioned as a pioneer in this field.
The dental institute which for economic reasons was called ‘provisional’ was housed in unbelievably primitive rooms in a flat on Feldstrasse. The furniture consisted of the equipment from my father’s private practice, by far not up to date anymore, and old stuff the university wanted to get rid of. It stayed there from 1890 until 1901, when it was moved into the university’s former eye clinic. This is where it still is now (1936). In spite of the deficient accommodations a lot was achieved there, and I received an excellent education.
Sachs had good connections to Austria. Thus, many colleagues came to Breslau as the training of dentists in Austria left much to be desired. I got on quite well with Sachs. My undeniable manual dexterity piqued his interest, and I learned a lot from him. Later, we became good friends. For a short time I joined the ‘AkademmischZahnärztlichen Verein’ (Academic Dentists Club). But I did not feel comfortable there, so I resigned from the club.
Twice I took part in some academic fencing. Once I mauled a chap named Levin quite badly while I did not even get a scratch, a feat known as ‘unberücht abstehen’ (stab untouched). In another encounter with a student named Ziegel from Görlitz I was scarred on the forehead.
On the 30th of November 1892 I passed my state examination in dentistry with the grade ‘gut’ (good). While studying I did not have much fun. My father insisted strictly that I occupy myself either as observer in his surgery or work in the laboratory. This I had to do everyday after working in the clinic of Carl Partsch which took place in the morning. It got much worse after I passed my exam for which I am grateful to this day.
Following my exam I worked in my father’s clinic until I was called up for military service. This was a one-year enlistment that began on the 1st of October 1893. I joined the artillery regiment von Peucker. We lived in the barracks in a house [in Breslau] on a corner, first with the widow Zeidler and later one floor below with the widow Mischke. I quite enjoyed a soldier’s freedom of life. The first battery to which I was assigned enjoyed a great reputation. The commander, Hauptmann Braune, was a benevolent superior with a gigantic mustache. Though I would not claim special soldierly merits my equestrian abilities must have been satisfactory, as I was selected as so called ‘Teten’Reiter’ (head rider), an important position in my company. At the time, I became a private first class. On the 1st of July I was promoted to sergeant. It was with great pride that I carried the golden insignia on my collar and cuffs walking down the Schweidnitzerstrasse. My promotion to sergeant marked the end of my military career.
After my year of military service, I returned to work in my father’s practice, and diligently learned English. Because of the advances of American dentistry, my father wanted to send me to America for further education. My English tutor, Mr. Dance, equipped me with a good mastery of the English language. With the aid of a warehouse catalog, he taught me the names of all objects depicted. The ‘Baltimore College of Dental Surgery’ was the oldest institution of its kind and considered to be the best. It was decided that I would take a postgraduate course there.
Regrettably, Dr. Walter Bruck’s biography abruptly ends here. I have quoted at length from his memoir for several reasons. Rarely do I come across my ancestors’ firsthand accounts of their lives, so Walter can assuredly much better relate his personal story than I can. His academic grounding in literature imbue his accounts with levity and amusement, even though much is likely lost in translation. Walter comes across as a gentleman with a pleasant, waggish humor. His accomplished father and grandfather were clearly influential in Walter deciding to become a dentist rather than study literature. Finally, his encounters with renowned academicians and fellow students who would later go on to become very accomplished highlight the intellectual milieu in which he grew up and was educated.
As mentioned, Dr. Wahl sent me dozens of images of papers, news articles, and photos from Dr. Bruck’s personal effects that shed further light on his life. February 28, 1925 marked the 25th anniversary of Walter’s appointment as lecturer in dentistry at the University of Breslau and at the same time his resignation from the position as head of the department at the Dental Institute. On this occasion, a celebration took place lecture hall of the Dental Institute to mark Dr. Bruck’s tenure and many accomplishments.
His photo album include dozens of telegrams, letters, and personal notes Walter received marking the “Dozenten Jubiläum,” lecturer’s anniversary. His scrap book also contains contemporary newspaper accounts of the event that provide a chronology of major events in his life. (Figure 21) Walter obtained his license to practice dentistry in 1892, enrolled in the Baltimore College of Dental Surgery in 1895 where he obtained the degree of Doctor of Dentistry in 1896. In 1900 he succeeded his mentor Professor Wilhelm Sachs as teacher of dentistry and department head at the University of Breslau’s Dental Institute and became a member of the dental examination board. In 1908 he obtained the title “Professor” and in 1912 was awarded the silver medal by the Central Association of German dentists. During WWI, from October 1914 to August 1917, Walter headed a dental department at the fortress hospital in Breslau, and in 1917 went to Bucharest, where he worked as a consulting dentist for the Romanian military administration (Figures 22a-c) and later in the same capacity worked at the high command of the so-called von Mackensen Army Group. (Figure 23) In 1919, he became a member of the commission for the dental doctoral examination board, and in 1920 received his PhD. in medicine. In 1921, he received the lofty title of “extraordinary Professor,” then from October 1923 to October 1924 he was the Deputy Directory of the Dental Institute at Breslau University.
As mentioned, Walter’s “Jubiläum” took place in 1925 but no newspaper accounts postdate this time than can inform us about his later life. Some materials exist from which inferences can be drawn, but, in the interest of abbreviating what is already a lengthy post, I will tell more of Walter Bruck’s personal life in future publications. However, a few other things are worth mentioning here.
During Dr. Wahl’s meetup with Nicholas Newman in 2013, he learned about and spoke to Renate’s best friend growing up, a German countess named Ina Gräfin von Schaesberg née Weinert (b. 19 Mar 1926, Breslau). Thinking I would be interested in speaking with her, Tilo called her and happily learned she is very much alive. Tilo put me in touch with Ina, and ever since we have had a very lively and productive exchange. (Figure 24) Like many Germans escaping the advancing Russians towards the end of WWII, Ina and her family were able to salvage very few mementos when they fled Breslau in 1945; however, among the items Ina managed to save are a few pictures of she and Renate Bruck as children, which Ina graciously shared with me. One was taken at Renate’s 10th birthday party on the 16th of June 1936. (Figure 25) Another, of the two of them performing in a school play, shows Ina dressed in black playing the role of a prince, and Renate dressed in white as a princess. (Figure 26)
Ina shared a particularly interesting rumor about Walter which I am inclined to believe is true. Walter died at the relatively young age of 65, and the scuttlebutt circulating at the time was that he committed suicide; he apparently did this to save his non-Jewish wife and half-Jewish daughter from being persecuted and/or murdered and having their property confiscated by the Nazis, a fate that inevitably awaited them. In future posts I will have more to say about Walter’s religious upbringing.
Towards the outset of this post, I mentioned to readers the coincidental email I received only this week from Nicholas Newman’s twin sisters after they stumbled on my Blog. I knew of their existence solely because Ina had mentioned them to me but had no expectation of finding them because they had immigrated to Australia in the 1990’s leaving no trace I could find. Ina could only recall their first names, Francesca and Michele. Regardless, as we speak, I am in the process of learning more about them as well as their grandfather from some of his memorabilia and dental equipment they retain; these may overlap with what Tilo already sent, assuming the twin girls inherited Nicholas’s belongings after he died. Almost immediately after hearing from Francesca and Michele Newman, I sent Ina an email letting her know. Like me, she was thrilled. She went to her photo album and retrieved some endearing images from October 1966 when Ina went with her two boys, Friedrich and Philipp, to visit Renate and her three children in Elstree, outside London. (Figure 25) Stay tuned for further developments!
