Category: Oppeln, Silesia (Opole, Poland)

POST 156: THE ARRIVAL OF TRAIN SERVICE IN RATIBOR (RACIBÓRZ, POLAND) IN 1846 AS SEEN ON CONTEMPORARY MAPS

 

Note: A page from an 1845 book by Johann Knie translated by one of my cousins discussing trade and commerce in Ratibor (today: Racibórz, Poland) at the time includes a discussion of the regional railway companies involved and the route by which the train arrived in town. The places mentioned provide an opportunity for me to introduce unfamiliar readers to the Meyers Gazetteer, a compilation of German Empire (1871-1918) place names and maps, to better visualize things.

It doesn’t come naturally to me to be curious. My parents were not patient people who would encourage nor answer an endless stream of innocent queries. This line of questioning was quickly squelched. I admire people to whom this trait comes instinctively, who grew up in a more nurturing and cerebral environment. This may explain why I go into more detail on matters of historical context than readers may be interested in knowing. Readers can decide for themselves how much of a topic they want to learn about.

With the above as backdrop, I want to discuss one valuable resource I stumbled upon while doing my ancestral research, the so-called Meyers Gazetteer. Various references to it can be found on the Internet, including links to the database on ancestry.com and familysearch.org. Consequently, I hesitated to write a post about it. However, because I so frequently find myself returning to this compilation of German Empire (1871-1918) place names and maps, it occurred to me it might be valuable for others unfamiliar with this website to be aware of it. In this post I’ve chosen to illustrate using the arrival of the railroad in Ratibor in January 1846 as an example a potential use of the historic maps in the Meyers Gazetteer to better visualize the placement of the railroad; this is done in conjunction with contemporary Google maps.

I’ve previously explained to readers that most of Silesia (Figure 1) where my immediate family hails from is no longer part of Germany. Most of Silesia was given to Poland as compensation after WWII (Figure 2) following Poland’s loss of a much larger swath of land to the USSR in then-eastern Poland, land that is today part of the Ukraine. With Poland’s acquisition of German Silesia, the German town names were all changed to Polish place names that often make it difficult to locate the former German towns on present-day maps. This is where the Meyers Gazetteer is inordinately useful if the former German town name can be found in the database.

 

Figure 1. General map of Silesia when it was part of the state of Prussia

 

Figure 2. Map showing the parts of Upper Silesia given to Poland in 1921 and then after WWII

 

The idea for this post came to me recently after asking one of my fourth cousins, Helen Winter, nee Renshaw (Figure 3) from Wolverhampton, England, if she could briefly explain to me the contents of one page from an 1845 book by Johann Knie talking about Ratibor. The text is printed in Fraktur, Black Lettering, that Helen has gained some aptitude reading of late. (Figure 4)

 

Figure 3. My fourth cousin Helen Winter, née Renshaw in Attingham Park in Wolverhampton in 2023

 

Figure 4. Page from Johann Knie’s 1845 book written in Fraktur translated for me by my Helen Winter discussing trade and commerce in Ratibor at the time and the route by which the train arrived in town

 

I did not specifically ask for a transcription nor translation. On my own, I figured out the text addressed primarily trade and commerce in Ratibor in around 1845 so felt a summary would be adequate for my purposes. However because Helen took it as an intellectual challenge, an exquisitely done transcription and translation is what I received. And I’m thrilled Helen provided this because unexpectedly part of the text discussed the route by which the railway arrived in Ratibor and the various regional railway companies involved in its construction.

Because multiple German town names were mentioned and I was having trouble visualizing the route, I turned to the Meyers Orts- und Verkehrs-Lexikon des Deutschen Reichs, the “Meyers Geographical and Commercial Gazetteer of the German Empire.” As ancestry.com points out “This gazetteer of the German Empire is the gazetteer to use to locate place names in German research. It was originally compiled in 1912. This gazetteer is the gazetteer to use because it includes all areas that were part of the pre-World War I German Empire. Gazetteers published after WWI may not include parts of the Empire that were lost to bordering countries. Overall, this gazetteer includes more than 210,000 cities, towns, hamlets, villages, etc.”

They further note that “Gazetteers are very important to use when doing family history research. They not only help you pinpoint a specific place and associate them with the jurisdictions to which they belong, but they can also provide interesting facts about the community and help you to know where to look for additional records. For example, from Meyers Orts you may learn about the size of the town, if there was a post office, where the nearest train station was located, and where the civil registration office was located.”

The meyersgaz.org website, the portal I primarily use for searching German Empire town names, further remarks: “This is the most important of all German gazetteers. The goal of the Meyer’s compilers was to list every place name in the German Empire (1871-1918). It gives the location, i.e. the state and other jurisdictions, where the civil registry office was and parishes if that town had them. It also gives lots of other information about each place. The only drawback to Meyer’s is that if a town did not have a parish, it does not tell where the parish was, making reference to other works necessary.”

On the homepage of meyersgaz.org they note you’ll find a search box in which you type the name of your place using the following conventions: 

  • You can use a wildcard * (an asterisk) in your search. For example, “*gheim” will return “Balgheim, Bergheim, Bietigheim, Billigheim” and anything else that ends in “gheim.”
  • You can type only the beginning of a name and it will return all places that begin with those letters. For example, “Neu” will return “Neu Abbau, Neu Abschwangen, Neuacker, Neuafrika,” etc.
  • You do not need to include umlauts; “Munchen” and “München” will return “München.” You can type umlauts if you wish, but you should not expand umlauts, e.g. “ü” as “ue,” as that will return no hits. 

A list of identically named places will appear within different jurisdictions, allowing you to identify the town you’re interested in. 

As meyersgaz.org further notes, on the “Entry” page the following will be found: 

  • You will see the name of your town and a menu that includes the following items: Entry, Map, Ecclesiastical, Related, Email, and Feedback.
  • You will see the entry as it appears in Meyer’s, the extraction of the entry, the explanation of the extraction, and a map. The extractions include and are primarily limited to jurisdiction and parish information. The explanations are helpful for those who do not speak German or are not familiar with the old jurisdictions. For example, you will learn what Kreis, Bezirkskommando, and Landgericht mean.
  • By clicking on “View entry on PDF of the original page,” you can see the entire page on which the entry appears in the original gazetteer.
  • Click on “Show previous and next entry” to see the previous and following entries. If there was a correction in the Meyer’s addendum, this will also be noted. 

Meyersgaz.org remarks that by clicking on “Map” in the menu or on the map itself, additional information can be found: 

  • You will now see your town on the old Karte des deutschen Reiches. This set of maps was produced during the time of the German Empire and so corresponds chronologically to Meyer’s.
  • You can zoom in and out and the maps can be moved around with the mouse, so you can easily extend the search further around the main town.
  • If you click on the words “Toggle Historical Map” in the upper right-hand corner, you can switch to Google Maps. This is especially helpful if you are searching in Poland or other areas of the former German Empire that are now in other countries. This is because you can get the current, i.e. non-German, name of the town.
  • If you hover on “Toggle Historical Map,” you will see a menu. If you click on the menu items, you will see pins appear on the map that correspond to what you have chosen, either Jurisdiction (all places where other jurisdictions are given, such as Kreis, Bezirkskommando, and Landgericht that are included in the entry), surrounding Standesämter (civil registry offices), Catholic parishes, Protestant parishes, or Jewish synagogues. This will help you determine the location of the nearest parishes, etc., within a 20-mile radius, should you need to do an area search. You can also click on the pins and the names of corresponding towns will appear.
  • You may also see a map with a large red circle instead of a pin. This means that the place has not been geocoded yet and a specific place on the map has not been identified, but it falls within the area of the red circle. 

Interested readers are encouraged to access meyersgaz.org website and try out the site for themselves. The maps have allowed me to track down the location of German towns now located in Poland I would otherwise have had great difficulty finding. With respect to the ensuing discussion, I will partially illustrate this using the arrival of the railroad in Ratibor in 1846. I would add that my interest in the coming of train service to Ratibor is related to when the family establishment in Ratibor, the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, was constructed; I believe the two events are closely interconnected and that the family enterprise opened in 1846 or soon thereafter. 

Helen Winter’s German transcription of the page from Johann Knie’s 1845 book about the route by which the railroad arrived in Ratibor is as follows: 

Die meist schlechte Beschaffenheit der von hier aus führenden Strassen wirkt hemmend auf den Landhandel, namentlich auf den Transito-Verkehr. Um so wichtiger muss für Ratibor die gelungene Anlegung der gleich anfangs erwänten Wilhelms Eisenbahn werden, da sie die Verbindung bilden wird, zwischen der Oberschlesien, oder Breslau-Krakauer Eisenbahn u[nd] der österreichischen von Wien nach Krakau führenden Ferdinands-Rorhbahn, sodass Ratibor die natürliche Zwischenstation alles Personen- und Güter-Verkehrs auf der Eisenbahnlinie von Breslau nach Wien sein wird. Das Privilegium der Bahn ist in der preuss[ische] Gesetz[es]S[ammlung] für 1844, Seite 127-146 nachzulesen. Ihre Entstehung verdankt dieses Unternehmen den Oberschlesien, welche seit 1840 in den öffentlichen Blättern, dann durch Gründung eines Aktien-Bereins dahin strebten, die oberschlesische oder breslaukrakauer Eisenbahn-Gesellschaft auf der Unrichtigkeit des erst gewählten Traktus von Oppeln über Malapane [?? ic ??] nach der russische Grenze, aufmerksam zu machen u[nd] den Bemühungen des königl[iches] Regierungs-Presidenten Grafen Pückler auch gelungen, die oberschlesische Bahngesellschaft zu dem Entschlusse zu bestimmen, von Oppeln aus in der Richtung von Kandrzin bis Kosel u[nd] erst von da in östlicher Richtung über Gleiwitz nach Krakau zu bauen, dadurch wurde es möglich, Kandrzin bei Kosel auch als Anfangspunkt für die Wilhelms-Eisenbahn zu gewinnen. Die Bahn geht von Kandrzin rechts der Oder aufwärts bis Ratibor u[nd] hier mittelst der Stromǔberbrückung zu den links zwischen der Oder u[nd] der Stadt gelegenen Bahnhofe. Diese erste Bahnstrecke beträgt 3 7/8 M[eilen]; ihre Fortsetzung am linken Ober-Ufer bis zu dem wahrscheinlichebn End[gangspunkte] und berübergangspunkte 3 3/8 M[eilen]. Die Erdarbeiten zwischen Kandrzin u[nd] Ratibor sind beinahe gänzlich [EDITOR’S NOTE: gönzlich is, I think, a misprint], die bis Oderberg zum grossen Theil vollendet. Der Brückenbau wird mit allem Nachdruck betrieben; bereits sind die meisten Kammarbeiten vollendet. Die Schwellen sind sämmtlich an der Bahn 30,000 Ctnr. englische Schienen seit dem 1[rste] September 1844 noch mit niederem Eingangszoll beschafft u[nd] der bei schles[ischen] Hütten bestellte Uebrrest grösstenteils auch schon geliefert; so das bei günstiger Witterung die Bahn bis Oktober 1845 wird befahren werden können. Der Bahnhof ist zwischen Oder u[nd] Stadt auf der, für Entwickelung des Verkehrs günstigsten Stelle errichtet u[nd] eilt seine Vollendung ebenfalls entgegen. Die Stadt gabt dazu 15 Morg[en] u[nd] zur Bahnlinie auf dem 3/8 Meilen langen, stäbtischen Terrain ebenfalls circa 10 Morg[en]- Land[es] , welches ein Opfer von 7000 R[eichs]t[ha]l[er] erheischte. Die Abbrechung eines Hauses u[nd] die Erwerdung des zu mehreren Strassen erforberlichen Terrains, so wie der Ausbau dieser Strassen wird der Stadt eben so viel kosten. Die Stadtverordneten-Bersammlung hat nicht angestanden diese Opfer im wohlerwogenen Interessender Kommune dem Direktorium der W[ilhelm] B[ahn] nicht nur zu bringen, sondern selbst anzubieten, weil nur dadurch die Gesellschaft bewogen worden ist, den Baufond um mehr als 150,000 R[eichs]t[ha]l[er] zu erhöhen, um hier bei der Stadt vom rechten auf das linke Oberufer überzugehen u[nd] den Bahnhof an den Stadtmauern erbauern zu können, wärend derselber sonst rechts der Oder, fast 1/2 Meile von hier, erbaut worden wäre. Der Anschluss an die Nordbahn erfolgt dicht bei Oderberg, für die nächsten Jahre mittelst gewöhnlichen Fuhrwerkes; dann aber mittelst Zweiges der Nordbahn von circa 800 Ruth[e] Das Anlage-Kapital für die ganze Wilhelm [Bahn] beträgt statutenmässig 1,200,000 R[eichs]t[ha]l[er]. 

Below is the translation of the above text with footnotes about the various railway companies involved in construction of the railroad in and around Ratibor; Prussian units of measure; and Prussian currency: 

“The mostly poor condition of the roads leading from here has an inhibiting effect on overland trade, especially on transit traffic. It must be all the more important for Ratibor that the connecting route, projected at the very beginning of the Wilhelms-Eisenbahn [Wilhelmsbahn (A) or William Railway] should be successfully completed, between Upper Silesia, or the Breslau-Krakauer (Wrocław-Kraków) Railway (B), and the Austrian route from Vienna along the Ferdinands-Nordbahn [Emperor Ferdinand Northern Railway (C)], so that Ratibor will become the natural connecting station for all passengers and goods traffic on the train lines between Breslau and Vienna. (Figure 5) The grant to the Railway is available to read at pages 127 to 146 of the Prussische Gesetzesammlung [Prussian Law Gazette] for 1844. That Company owes its existence to the above named company, which, firstly in the public newspapers, and then by founding a stock corporation, convinced the Upper Silesian, or Breslau-Krakow Railway Company [EDITOR’S NOTE: Upper Silesian Railway Company], of how wrong the originally chosen route, from Oppeln via Malapane (Figure 6) to the Russian border, would have been; the efforts by the royally appointed President of the government, Count Pückler, also succeeded in persuading the Upper Silesian Railway Company to reach the decision to build the line from Oppeln, in the direction of Kandrzin as far as Kosel (Figure 7) and, only from that point, in an easterly direction via Gleiwitz to Krakow, which would make it possible to use Kandrzin, near Kosel, as a starting point for the William Railway. (Figure 8) The railway route goes from Kandrzin, to the right of the Oder, up to Ratibor [EDITOR’S NOTE: meaning upriver as the Oder River flows generally south to north] and here, by means of a bridge across the river, to the station, which is situated on the left bank, between the Oder and the city. This initial railway track is 2 7/8 miles long (D). Its continuation along the upper left bank, up to the probable end of the track and upper crossing point is 3 3/8 miles. The earth works between Kandrzin and Ratibor are now entirely, and those at Oderberg for the most part, completed. The bridge construction is being pursued vigorously; already most of the work on the crest is complete. The sleepers are all on the track; 30,000 Ctnr. (E) of English rails have been procured since 1st September 1844, at a low rate of import duty and most of the remainder, ordered from the foundries of Silesia, have already been delivered; so that, allowing for reasonable weather, the railway can come into use by October 1845. [EDITOR’S NOTE: Train service commenced on the 1st of January 1846] The station, which was being built between the Oder and the city in a location that would facilitate the development of traffic, is also fast approaching completion. The city gave 15 acres of land for the station, and around 10 acres for the railway line on the 3/8 mile long, flat terrain, all of which required the sacrifice of 7,000 Reichsthaler. The City Council did not hesitate, in the interest of the public good, to take some of the financial burden on themselves, rather than expecting the Directors of the William Railway to bear the whole, as this was the only way in which the company could be persuaded to increase the building fund by more than 150,000 Reichsthaler (F), in order that the site of the station could be changed from the right to the left upper bank and that it could be built over the city walls, whereas it would otherwise have been built to the right of the Oder, more than a mile from here. The connection to the Northern Railway will take place close to Oderberg (G) (Figure 9), for the next few years by means of a conventional carriage, then by means of a branch line of the Northern Railway from circa 800 Rods (H) [EDITOR’S NOTE: there seems to be a bit missing in the copy of the book here]. The capital budget for the whole William Railway is fixed by statute at 1,200,000 Reichsthaler.” 

(A) The Wilhelmsbahn or William Railway was a private railway company in Prussia. It was founded in 1844 in Ratibor in Upper Silesia to connect the Upper Silesian Railway (Breslau—Oppeln—Kosel– Gleiwitz (Wroclaw—Opole— Koźle—Gliwice)) with the Austrian Emperor Ferdinand’s Railway. The name referred to Prince Wilhelm of Prussia, later the German Emperor Wilhelm I. For the first time, the railway line connected the Austrian railway network with the Prussian one. 

(B) Refers to the Upper Silesian Railway Company. In 1842, the Upper Silesian Railway Company, licensed since 1839, opened the first two sections of its main line: Breslau (Wrocław, Poland) to Ohlau (Oława, Poland) (Figure 10) on the 22nd of May and Ohlau (Oława, Poland) to Brieg (Brzeg, Poland) (Figure 11) in August. These are the oldest railway sections of present-day Poland. Step by step the Upper Silesian Railway (Oberschlesische Eisenbahn, OSE) line was extended, in 1846 connecting Katowice. In 1847 Myslowitz (Mysłowice, Poland) at the border of Austrian Galicia was reached and the connection to Kraków and Upper Silesian Railway complete. 

(C) The Emperor Ferdinand Northern Railway was a railway company during the time of the Austrian Empire. Its main line was intended to connect Vienna with the salt mines in Bochnia near Kraków. The name is still used today in referring to several railway lines formerly operated by that company. 

(D) The distances in miles in the text refer to Prussian miles. One Prussian mile equates to 4.66 U.S. miles or 7.5 kilometers. 

(E) “Ctnr.” is the abbreviation for a Prussian “Centner.” A Prussian Centner equates to 113.43 American pounds or 51.448 kilograms. The metric Zentner used today is exactly 50 kilograms or 110.23 American pounds. 

(F) Abbreviated “Rtl.,” this refers to a Prussian Reichsthaler. The Reichsthaler was a standard thaler silver coin introduced by the Holy Roman Empire in 1566 for use in all German states, minted in various versions for the next 300 years, and containing 25–26 grams fine silver. 

(G) According to Johann Knie, the Wilhelmsbahn connected to the Emperor Ferdinand Northern Railway near Oderberg, shown to the southeast of Ratibor in Figure 9. 

(H) The Prussian Ruthe or rod was 12 feet or 3.766 meters.

 

Figure 5. A contemporary Google map showing the circled location of Racibórz (Ratibor) relative to Wrocław (Breslau), Kraków (Krakau), Opole (Oppeln), and Vienna

 

Figure 6. Meyers Gazetteer map of Malapane [today: Ozimek, Poland]
Figure 7. Meyers Gazetteer map showing relative location of Kandrzin [today: Kędzierzyn-Koźle, Poland] to Cosel (Kosel) [today: Koźle, Poland]

Figure 8. A contemporary Google map showing the modern-day Polish place names discussed in Johann Knie’s text; the Wilhelmsbahn route went from modern-day Kędzierzyn-Koźle, Poland [Prussian: Kosel-Cosel] to Racibórz (Ratibor)
 

Figure 9. Railway map of Germany and surrounding countries in 1849; Oderberg (abbreviated “Oderbg.”) is where the Wilhelmsbahn and Northern Railway eventually connected southeast of Ratibor

 

Figure 10. Meyers Gazetteer map of Ohlau [today: Oława, Poland]

Figure 11. Meyers Gazetteer map of Brieg [today: Brzeg, Poland]
 

It is clear from Johann Knie’s 1845 book that, absent Count Pückler’s intervention, the Breslau-Krakauer (Wrocław-Kraków) Railway, that’s to say the Upper Silesian Railway Company, intended to bypass Ratibor in its construction of the railway into Poland. The passage refers to an easterly route from Breslau (Wrocław) to Oppeln (Opole) to a place called Malapane (today: Ozimek) toward Russia which Count Pückler was able to dissuade the Upper Silesian Railway Company from taking. He apparently also convinced the Upper Silesian Railway Company to connect Breslau (Wrocław) to Krakau (Kraków) via Oppeln (Opole), Kosel (also written Cosel; Koźle), Gleiwitz (Gliwice), and Katowice. This was critical because at a place called Kandrzin, just outside present-day Koźle, the Wilhelmsbahn or William Railroad was then able to connect their railway line to the Upper Silesian Railway. Thus, railway passengers could save time when traveling between Breslau and Vienna by avoiding Krakau. We also learn that Ratibor’s City Council donated land and money to offset part of the William Railroad’s construction cost. From Kosel to Ratibor, the tracks ran along the right or east bank of the Oder, then crossed the river near Ratibor via a bridge to the railway station located on the west or left bank of the Oder River, interestingly built over the city walls according to Johann Knie’s text.

In closing I would simply say that the maps and plans in Meyers Gazetteer in combination with contemporary Google maps provide the necessary overview for visualizing how important it was for the small town of Ratibor in the mid-1840s to ensure the railroad passed through town. It enabled the town’s economic expansion and led to the construction of the Bruck’s Hotel sometime between 1846 and 1850.

REFERENCES

Knie, Johann G. (1845). Alphabetisch-statistisch-topographische Uebersicht der Dörfer, Flecken, Städte und andern Orte der Königl. Preuß. Provinz Schlesien.

Alphabetisch-statistisch-topographische Uebersicht der Dörfer, Flecken … – Johann G. Knie – Google Books

POST 149: A CHILDHOOD FRIEND’S EARLY ANCESTORS FROM UPPER SILESIA & RATIBOR (PART 2–ANCESTRAL CONNECTIONS)

 

EDITOR’S NOTE: My childhood friend’s daughter, Melissa Ashner, first moved to San Diego in late 2011, where my wife and I live. We would periodically get together for lunch or dinner, and invariably our discussion would veer towards some of my ancestral research which I had initiated perhaps a year earlier. At the time my discoveries were coming fast on the heels of one another and would culminate in a 13-week vacation to Europe in 2014 when my wife and I visited places from Poland to Spain associated with my Jewish family’s diaspora.

As Melissa explains, interest in her own family’s history began in 2018 with an offhand joke by her father. As it happens, both of our families have an ancestral connection to Upper Silesia, more specifically, Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland] but also other nearby villages and towns. This post was inspired by my discovery that one of Melissa’s earliest recorded relatives, Joachim Marcus Aschner, was one of the original Jews to receive Prussian citizenship following enactment of the Emancipation Edict of 1812. The Bruck family had a connection to this town for over 100 years and this was where my father was born in 1907. There is no doubt in either of our minds that our families would have interacted with one another, particularly since the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor was owned by three generations of my family and would have been known to Melissa’s ancestors.

Knowing that many of the people I write about in my posts are unrelated to readers, there are three things I strive for to keep readers engaged. First, there is a process I typically follow to analyze the primary source data I find, a process which readers may be able to replicate in doing their own ancestral searches. Second, I try and make people aware of archival documents that may be available to ancestral researchers investigating their family’s history, and where these may be found. Third, I try and describe the social, geographic, and historical context my ancestors lived through, context which is important for any ancestral researcher to understand when studying how such events may have impacted their own family’s lives.

In perusing this post, I advise readers not to get caught up in all the family names Melissa cites. Rather, focus instead on her explanation for drawing a lineal connection between herself and Benjamin Moses Aschner (1768-1848) (4th great-grandfather), via Marcus Aschner (1806-1861) (3rd great-grandfather); Moritz Aschner (1831-1890) (2nd great-grandfather); Hugo Aschner (1869-1943) (1st great-grandfather); Martin Aschner (1905-1985) (grandfather); and Harold Ashner (b. 1951) (father). In the absence of existing primary source documents connecting Marcus Aschner and Moritz Aschner, Melissa makes a compelling case by drawing on indirect evidence. Readers can decide for themselves whether her argument is convincing.

Related Post:

POST 149: A CHILDHOOD FRIEND’S EARLY ANCESTORS FROM UPPER SILESIA & RATIBOR [RACIBÓRZ, POLAND] (PART 1-BACKGROUND)

 

GUEST POST

BY MELISSA ASHNER

My interest in my family’s history began in 2018. It started with a joke from my father that he needed more family members. I initially set out to uncover the whereabouts of his uncle Paul’s family — the war traumatized and separated this generation.  However, the process of research and discovery was intriguing, and I quickly began to dig deeper. 

Details pertaining to this early generation have been challenging to unravel. However, Joachim Marcus Aschner and Benjamin Moses Aschner were likely brothers. Joachim and Benjamin were both born in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland] — Joachim in 1775, and Benjamin in 1767 or 1768.  Their sibling relationship is evidenced by their geographical movements from Ratibor to the Smolna district of Rybnik in the early 1800s, as well as by the timing of their registration with local authorities. 

Emancipation of Prussian Jews

Under Prussian rule, the Jewish communities in Upper Silesia, which included Rybnik, were subject to the General Juden-Reglement für Süd und Neu-Ostpreussen. These regulations gradually led to the Edikt die Burgerlichen Berhaltnisse der Juden, which emancipated Prussian Jews in 1812 (Sobczak, 2023; History, n.d.).

Consequently, Jews gained access to various trades and professions previously restricted to them and were eligible to become citizens. Surname adoption became mandatory around this time for Prussian Jews, replacing traditional use of patronymics. In order to obtain citizenship, Jews were required to assume a surname (Jewish Naming Customs, 2023; History, n.d.). 

The documents below (Figures 1a-c), recorded on May 7, 1814, are civil registrations that are linked with these political and economic shifts. These documents include information pertaining to Joachim’s and Benjamin’s respective families, including names, birthdates, marriage dates, and children’s birth and death dates, where applicable.

 

Figure 1a. Jüdisches Familienregister (Rybnik); Rybnik Jewish Family Register

 

Figure 1b. Registration of Immigrant Jews in the Rybnik District. The word “Staatsbürger” is seen on the right, indicating that Joachim and Benjamin were Prussian state citizens as of May 7, 1814

 

Figure 1c. Jüdisches Familienregister “Smolna”

 

From the vital information provided in these figures, a generous amount of information can be extracted. Joachim Marcus Aschner married Katel Henriette Jacob in 1803. They had a daughter, Freidel, in 1804, a son, Wilhelm, in 1805, a daughter, Johanna, in 1812, and a daughter, Rebecca, in 1815.

Benjamin Moses Aschner married Anna Grossman in 1798, and they had a son, Isaac, in 1799.  For unknown reasons, this union did not last, and Benjamin remarried in March of 1800. He and his second wife, Rosalie Sarel “Charlotte” Rosenthal, had ten children together, including three sons, Abraham (1801), Adolf (1803), and Marcus (1806), and seven daughters, Handel Johanna (1804), Rebecca (1810), Jeanette (1812), Zorl (1814), Maria (1816), Verone (1819), and Ester (1820). Maria died in 1820.

Now, both Joachim Marcus and Benjamin Moses’s lineages can be traced to present times. However, Benjamin’s lineage has been my primary research focus, as after countless hours of reviewing films, various sources, and considering the possibilities, I am 99% certain that Benjamin is my great-great-great-great-grandfather. I will explain my reasoning as we move through the generations, emphasizing the only instance in which I have been unable to view the primary documents to confirm this with 100% certainty.

Records in Figures 1a and 1c also suggest that Benjamin’s second wife, Charlotte, was born in 1773, and her youngest child was born in 1820. While this would imply that she birthed her daughter, Esther, at the very unlikely age of 47, further discoveries would be necessary to refine my understanding. There also appears to be a discrepancy regarding Benjamin’s year of birth, which isn’t entirely uncommon, even in primary documents (Brook, 2020).  

Typhus Epidemic in Rybnik (1847-1848)

Notably, at least three ancestors, including Benjamin, his second wife, and his son with his first wife, passed away between February and March of 1848. Benjamin’s death in Rybnik on February 1, 1848, was documented as Nervenschlage, or nervous system shock. His wife’s records did not mention a cause, but she passed away very shortly after Benjamin, on March 4, 1848 (Figure 2). His first son, Isaac, passed away in Nikolai [today: Mikołów, Poland] on March 19, 1848, from Nervenfieber, or nervous fever.

 

Figure 2. This death record for Charlotte Aschner (LDS Image Group Number DGS: 7989214) describes Benjamin’s occupation as a “Potaschsieder und Handelsmann,” or pot-ash boiler and tradesman (third line down from the top)

 

It is worth noting the context in which this occurred. In 1847-1848, a devastating typhus epidemic swept through Upper Silesia, affecting around 80,000 people in the regions of Pleß [today: Pszczyna, Poland] and Rybnik [today: Rybnik, Poland], with a death toll of 16,000. This major epidemic was further aggravated by a widespread famine, which led to many weakened immune systems (Kamusella, 1999). During this era, medical terminology used to describe illnesses often lacked precision due to the evolving understanding of diseases (Virchow, 1848). Given the vague descriptions and the rapid succession of deaths, it seems plausible that some ancestors may have fallen victim to this epidemic, succumbing to the highly prevalent and often fatal typhus fever—or, at the very least, suffered from illnesses compounded by the effects of famine.

The cross-referencing of details from various relatives has been instrumental in moving forward my research into this branch of the tree. For example, Benjamin’s own death record ambiguously labeled him as a Jewish tradesman. Yet, a more descriptive account appears in Figure 2, the death record of his wife, Charlotte, which identifies him specifically as a Potaschsieder und Handelsmann, translating to “pot-ash boiler and tradesman.”

The Next Generation and Obstacles in Research

Marcus Aschner, born in Rybnik in 1806, was a son of Benjamin and Charlotte. Diverging from the pot-ash boiling trade of his father, he became a soap boiler, or a seifenseider. Marcus married Jeanette Königsfeld in Mikołōw and they had six sons and three daughters together between 1826 and 1850. These nine birth records span several administrative regions—Beuthen [today: Bytom, Poland], Kattowitz [today: Katowice, Poland], and Nikolai [today: Mikołōw,Poland] —towns situated within 12 to 19 kilometers of one other and whose governance frequently shifted.[1] One of those sons was Moritz Aschner – my great-great-grandfather – he was born around 1831.

Herein lies the sole roadblock I have encountered in tracing my lineage to Benjamin Aschner – I have yet to uncover primary documentation that definitively affirms the paternal relationship between Marcus and Moritz Aschner.  However, research involves many steps, many angles, and a multifaceted approach, which I have undertaken in exploring this challenge.  As such, there are several reasons why I firmly believe that Marcus is the father of Moritz Aschner, and I have listed most of these reasons below:

1. Geographical proximity, chronology, and profession. These are the most obvious supporting factors. Both father, Marcus, and son, Moritz, were Jewish soap boilers in the same general locality.

2. The tradition of naming Jewish children. Marcus Aschner died in 1861, from what was documented as general dropsy. Moritz named his firstborn son Marcus, in 1863. It is customary in Judaism to name the child after a recently deceased close relative.

3. While Moritz’s parents aren’t directly named in records obtained for Moritz, primary records for his siblings do list Marcus and Jeanette as parents, increasing confidence that they are Moritz’s parents as well.

Now, before I get too far ahead of myself with the fourth reason, additional details are necessary. (Figure 3) Moritz Aschner married Rosalie Wachsmann in Beuthen in September 1857. (The marriage index does not mention their parents – that would be too easy, I guess.)

 

Figure 3. Beuthen Marriage Index from 1857 for Moritz Aschner and Rosalie Wachsmann

 

Moritz and Rosalie then had two girls followed by five consecutive boys: Auguste (1857), Hannchen (1861), Marcus (1863), Noa (1864), Benjamin (1865), Lev (1867), and Hugo (1869). Their first-born son, the namesake Marcus, sadly died as an infant, with sister Hannchen passing away the same year. Their second son, Noa, eventually became a known fugitive, robbing a German bank. Their youngest son, Hugo, was born in 1869 in Laurahütte [today: Siemianowice Śląskie, Poland] – he was my great-grandfather (Figure 4).

 

Figure 4. Hugo Aschner’s birth index. He was born on October 29, 1869, to Moritz and Rosalie Aschner

 

As adults, Moritz’s children moved away from the family’s soap-boiling trade and branched out into diverse careers. The transportation options in the late nineteenth century expanded their opportunities, and Hugo relocated to Frankfurt, Germany. There, he joined the textile sector, finding employment in a hat factory located at Kaiserstraße 63.  

Hugo married Else Stich, my great-grandmother, in Frankfurt in 1899. They had two sons: Phillip Paul Aschner, known as Paul, born in 1900, and Martin Moritz Aschner, known as Martin (and later, “Opa”), born in 1905. Soon after, Hugo and Else relocated to Berlin with their sons, perhaps for business opportunities.

Now, for the fourth reason:

4. In 1909, one of Moritz’s nephews died in Berlin. His name was Paul Aschner (a different Paul Aschner). Hugo, his first cousin, was one of the few relatives in Berlin at the time, and he reported this death to the registrar (Figure 5). This further strengthens the evidence of the family relationships, as Hugo’s tie to Paul was through their parents, who were brothers – sons of Marcus Aschner.

 

Figure 5. Berlin death record for a Paul Aschner signed by Hugo Aschner

 

Aggressive Antisemitism in the Third Reich

Both Martin, my grandfather, and Paul, my great-uncle, worked in the clothing industry in Berlin. Martin sold ladies gloves and jackets, and Paul owned a clothing shop. (Figure 6) Berlin telephone directories in the early 20th century revealed that Hugo lived with each of his sons at various intervals. Presumably, Else did as well.

 

Figure 6. Paul’s business logo is printed next to several other local Jewish companies (Fashion and Persecution, 2016)

Paul Aschner’s business was among many Jewish clothing businesses that were subjected to increasingly aggressive restrictions imposed by the Nazi regime. These challenges included forced sales and liquidation without fair compensation (Fashion and Persecution, 2016). Following the Nuremberg Laws of 1935, Paul could not continue operating his store on Mohrenstraße 37a. Records show transfer of possession in 1935 and liquidation in 1939. Paul temporarily moved his store to Kronenstraße 55, where it operated from 1936-1938.

Paul was also named in an antisemitic smear piece by the publication Der Stürmer (Figure 7). This article, published in January 1938, lists Jewish textile companies that were newly founded in Berlin, naming Paul Aschner among others. The article shames the “so-called businessmen” that “are characterless enough to give their orders to the Jews.” The article goes on to threaten these characterless German businessmen and writes that “Der Stürmer will publish their names soon” (Fashion and Persecution, 2016).[2]

Figure 7. January 1938. An antisemitic article from “Der Stürmer” listing Jewish businesses, including Paul Aschner’s, as part of a smear campaign (Fashion and Persecution, 2016)

 

By this time, the circumstances had become dire, compelling Paul, Martin, and many others in the Jewish community to seek refuge beyond Germany’s borders amidst the escalating persecution of the Holocaust. 

The Holocaust

Unfortunately, it was incredibly difficult to get out of Germany. Martin, Paul’s brother, left in May 1938, arriving and staying in America. Paul strongly hoped to follow. His urgent telegrams to Martin demonstrate the challenges in obtaining necessary affidavits to leave, and his concerns about the window to submit the required forms amidst the limited space left in the German quota.

At the time, Paul was married to Gerda Neumann. Paul left ahead of Gerda, though details regarding why they did not travel together remain unclear. It is possible that they seized any opportunity to leave, with Gerda intending to follow closely behind Paul. Just one week after his passport visa was issued, Paul was on his way to America.

Details as to the specific reasons are unclear, but my great uncle was not able to stay in America, where he had family. He ended up in Santiago, Chile. Tragically, a few months after Paul’s departure, Gerda was evicted from her residence. She was relocated to Helmstedter Straße 23, a location shared with over 90 other Jewish victims. From there, she and the others were transported to extermination camps where they met a tragic fate (Milgroym, 2023).   

It is also unclear as to whether Hugo and Else, my great-grandparents, had tried to leave Germany. It is possible that they pooled together resources to help their sons escape, but I am only speculating. Sadly, both Else and Hugo were deported with Transport 29 from Berlin, Germany to Auschwitz Birkenau, Extermination Camp, Poland on February 19, 1943, where they were murdered. (Figures 8-11)

 

Figure 8. Transport List to Auschwitz with the names of Hugo and Else Aschner (image accessed from the Arolsen Archives)

 

Figure 9. Hugo and Else walking with Martin Aschner, my grandfather, likely in Berlin, Germany, along with an unknown person on the left. The exact year the photo was taken is unknown, but most likely in the early-to-mid 1930s

 

Figure 10. A younger Else is pictured

 

Figure 11. Martin and Hugo on a boat in the 1930s

 

Below, a 75-year-old letter, located among my family’s items, is pictured (Figure 12). While I do not claim to be psychic, I can attest that the weight of this letter was immediately sensed, well before transcribing it – it had been read many times, with a very heavy heart.

 

Figure 12. Letter from the American Joint Distribution Committee in 1947 regarding the fates of Hugo and Else Aschner

 

The letter follows up on an inquiry to the American Joint Distribution Committee regarding the whereabouts of Hugo and Else Aschner. The letter states that these individuals were deported with Transport No. 43/25414 on February 19, 1943. It advises that these individuals did not return and are not on their lists and closes by expressing regret for the lack of favorable news.

Figure 13, obtained from the Arolsen Archives, presents a letter concerning the transport lists which include Hugo and Else. It outlines that the listed individuals had their property confiscated as part of the deportation process, with the assets being expropriated and transferred to the Reich.

 

Figure 13. Letter dated February 2, 1943, from the “Geheime Staatspolizei” declaring that the property of the listed deported Jews was confiscated with the assets expropriated and transferred to the Reich (image accessed from the Arolsen Archives)

 

Paul Aschner, my great uncle, changed his name to Pablo and eventually remarried in Santiago, where he had three children. I will omit further details to respect the privacy of his relatives. Martin married my grandmother, Margot Rozansky, in 1942, and they remained married until his death in 1985. I will also taper off here to respect the privacy of my family. In coming years, I know that further details will be discovered. Until then, I thank Richard for the opportunity to share my research journey.

 

 

REFERENCES

Brook, R. (2020, September 13). POST 93: GUIDE TO THE MORMON CHURCH’S FAMILIAL MICROFILMS: USING THEM TO UNRAVEL MY GREAT-GRANDFATHER’S LINEAGE. bruckfamilyblog.com. https://bruckfamilyblog.com/category/neisse/

Fashion and Persecution. (2016). Federal Minister of Justice and Consumer Protection. https://www.bmj.de/SharedDocs/Publikationen/DE/Broschueren/Konfektion_und_Repression_engl.pdf?__blob=publicationFile&v=7

History. (n.d.). Virtual Shtetl. https://sztetl.org.pl/en/towns/b/419-bytom/99-history/137151-history-of-community

Jewish Naming Customs. (2023, December 12). FamilySearch.
https://www.familysearch.org/en/wiki/Jewish_Naming_Customs

Kamusella, T. (1999). The dynamics of the policies of ethnic cleansing in Silesia in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
https://research-repository.st-andrews.ac.uk/bitstream/10023/15077/1/TomaszKamusellaPhDThesis1994_Original.pdf

Milgroym: Stumbling Stones – Helmstedter Straße. (2023).
http://milgroym.org/heritage/photography/stumblingstones-helmestedterstrasse/

Sobczak, A. (2023). Jews in Upper Silesia. Leo Baeck Institute. https://www.lbi.org/collections/jews-upper-silesia/

Virchow, R. (1848). “Report on the Typhus Epidemic in Upper Silesia.” https://www.socialmedicine.info/index.php/socialmedicine/article/download/8/15.

 

[1] The distances between towns were verified using Arcanum Maps.

[2] Article was transcribed using Planet AI OCR Free Trial in Historic Mode and Deepl translation.

POST 147: THE GRÜNBERGER FAMILY TIE TO RATIBOR IN THE YEARS 1812-1815

 

Note: In this post, I draw a connection between a query I received from a reader on the process for installing Stolpersteine in Racibórz, Poland to a fleeting reference about one of this reader’s earliest ancestors from the second decade of the 19th century.

Related Post:

POST 142: “STOLPERSTEINE” COMMEMORATING THREE HOLOCAUST VICTIMS FROM RACIBORZ

POST 146: MY GRANDFATHER FELIX BRUCK’S (1864-1927) FINAL MONTHS OWNING THE BRUCK’S HOTEL IN RATIBOR, GERMANY

 

Having previously boasted that blog stories can be found on any street corner, I am discomfited if I don’t have at least 5 to 10 topics in my hip pocket awaiting future exposition. This sets off alarms and makes me think I’m not being sufficiently imaginative.

Sometimes what I think will be one post morphs into two, while other times two or more topics get condensed into one. The current post is an example of the latter.

Chronologically, this story begins with the publication of Post 142. To remind readers that post was about the installation of the very first so-called Stolpersteine in Racibórz, Poland, the town in Silesia where my father was born when the town was named Ratibor and was part of Germany. A Stolperstein is a ten-centimeter (3.9 in.) concrete cube bearing a brass plate inscribed with the name and life dates of victims of Nazi extermination or persecution. In the case of the ones recently installed in Racibórz, they commemorate three members of the Kochen family deported in 1938 to the Łódź Ghetto, namely, Szyja Kochen (1897-1944), Ester Bajla Kochen (1898-1944), and Natan David Kochen (1935-1944). (Figure 1)

 

Figure 1. The Stolpersteine recently installed in Racibórz, Poland for three members of the Kochen family deported to the Łódź Ghetto

 

Following publication of Post 142, I was contacted by a Barrister from Toronto, Canada, Perry H. Gruenberger, asking about the process for obtaining permission to install a Stolperstein. Perry explained that his grandparents had last freely lived in Ratibor and been deported and murdered during the Holocaust. Like the Kochen family, he is interested in commemorating his ancestors at their last place of residency in Racibórz.

Ignorant of the city’s requirements, I contacted Ms. Magda Wawoczny, a student acquaintance of mine from Jagiellonian University in Kraków, Poland who hails from Racibórz and first told me about the Stolpersteine installed there, asking her about the process. She checked with Mr. Nadav Kochen from Israel who’d initiated the installation of the so-called “stumbling stones” in Racibórz for his ancestors.

In brief, Nadav explained that the consent of the Road Department or other administrator or city official of the area where the Stolpersteine are to be installed must be obtained. It goes without saying that the consent of the land owner is required. The “Institute of National Remembrance,” which has apparently been a major impediment to the placement of Stolpersteine in Poland for reasons discussed in Post 142, is seemingly not required. Polish officials Mr. Kochen contacted in Wrocław told him that because Stolpersteine are treated as artistic installations, as the German artist Gunter Demnig intended when he initiated the project in 1992, rather than monuments, the approval of the Institute of National Remembrance is not required.

The person who initiates the installation of the stumbling stone must somehow prove the person(s) lived there and died during the Holocaust and finance the production and installation of the stone. The requirement that the person died may be specific to Poland because based on personal experience in Germany a target of Nazi persecution need not have died to be commemorated by a Stolperstein. If a Stolperstein is proposed in an area designated as a national monument, the consent of the conservator of monuments is also required. And, finally, one must coordinate with the special office in Germany that handles Stolpersteine matters.

Mr. Perry Gruenberger initially contacted me towards the end of September telling me he wants to commission Stolpersteine in honor of his grandparents, Fritz Grünberger (1893-1944) and Henriette Grünberger, née Nesselroth (1897-1944), who had lived and worked in Ratibor. (Figure 2) His grandparents were initially deported to Theresienstadt, then later transported to Auschwitz. Perry explained that his father Günter Grünberger grew up in Ratibor until age 19 (1939) but survived the Holocaust. He escaped to Palestine via Italy.

 

Figure 2. Weidenstrasse, today known as ulica Staszica, the street in Racibórz along which Perry Gruenberg’s grandparents lived before they were deported to Theresienstadt and Auschwitz

 

When readers contact me asking about their ancestors who were victims of the Holocaust or are associated with places where my own relatives may have lived, typically, I check on ancestry.com, MyHeritage, the Arolsen Archives, the Yad Vashem Victims’ Database, as well as in my personal files for documents and images that may make these people’s relatives come to life.

I was quickly able to find Perry’s grandparents in Yad Vashem. (Figures 3a-b; 4a-b) I next checked an Excel database with the names of people formerly interred in the Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor, which no longer exists, for any Grünbergers. Initially, I found four names with pictures of their headstones which I shared with Perry. (Figures 5-8) He was elated.

 

Figure 3a. Page 1 of documentation from the Yad Vashem Victims’ Database for Fritz Grünberger, Perry’s grandfather

 

Figure 3b. Page 2 of documentation from the Yad Vashem Victims’ Database for Fritz Grünberger, Perry’s grandfather

 

Figure 4a. Page 1 of documentation from the Yad Vashem Victims’ Database for Henriette Grünberger, Perry’s grandmother

 

Figure 4b. Page 2 of documentation from the Yad Vashem Victims’ Database for Henriette Grünberger, Perry’s grandmother

 

Figure 5. List of four Grünbergers and one Grünberg from the Excel database listing the names of Jews once buried in the now destroyed Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor

 

Figure 6. Former headstone of Alice Grünberger, née Steiner (1892-1932) from the now destroyed Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor
Figure 7. Former headstone of Karl Grünberger (1865-1920) and his wife Alma Grünberger, née Loebinger (1867-1921), Perry’s great-grandparents, from the now destroyed Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 8. Former headstone of Marie Grünberger (1847-1918) from the now destroyed Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor

 

Later when I reexamined the Excel database, I noticed a “Siegfried Grünberg (1863-1930)” listed (see Figure 5) and figured out this was Perry’s great-grand-uncle. (Figure 9) I also realized in searching the Yad Vashem Victims’ Database for Perry’s family I would need to check not only “Grünberger” and “Gruenberger,” but also “Grünberg” and “Grunberg.”

 

Figure 9. Former headstone of Siegfried Grünberger (1863-1930), Perry’s great-grand-uncle, from the now destroyed Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor

 

Combined, in the Yad Vashem and the Arolsen Archives online databases, I discovered a total of five Grünbergers that had been deported to Theresienstadt or Auschwitz from Ratibor. (Figures 10-13)

 

Figure 10. List of deportees on transport XVIII/2 headed from Oppeln [today: Opole, Poland] to Theresienstadt on the 20th of November 1942 with the names of three Grünbergers from Ratibor (source: Arolsen Archives)
Figure 11. Deportation card for Emma Grünberger, née Herzka, departing Oppeln {Opole, Poland] aboard transport XVIII/2, showing she died on the 17th of December 1942 in Theresienstadt (source: Arolsen Archives)

 

Figure 12. Deportation card for Perry’s grandfather, Fritz Grünberger, deported from Thereseinstadt aboard transport XVIII/6 on the 29th of September 1944 (source: Arolsen Archives)

 

Figure 13. Deportation card for Perry’s grandmother, Henriette Grünberger, deported from Theresienstadt aboard transport XVIII/6 on the 6th of October 1944 (source: Arolsen Archives)

 

Let me briefly digress and share with readers a related discovery I made at about the same time. Long-term followers of my blog know that connections I make between seemingly unrelated documents and contacts most excite me.

In Post 146, I introduced readers to Mr. Kamil Kotas a gentleman formerly from the Racibórz District of Poland, now living in Münster in the German state of Westphalia. Kamil not only directed me to files archived at the State Archives in Wrocław Branch in Kamieniec Ząbkowicki with information on my family’s establishment in Ratibor, the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, as previously discussed, but he also sent me links to two articles he’s written about Ratibor. Translated, one is entitled “Preliminary list of Jews from Racibórz deported to death camps,” and the second is “Jews with Prussian citizenship in the Racibórz region in the years 1812-1815.” Serendipitously, both contain information on the Grünbergers.

Through extensive research Kamil has compiled a comprehensive list of Jews from Ratibor deported to death camps. Quoting as to the method he used to draw up this list:

“The list presented below is based on transport lists of people deported from Silesia to the Auschwitz death camp and to the ghetto and Theresienstadt camp. Scans of the lists are publicly available on the German website “Statistik des Holocaust”. Listed below are people whose last place of residence before deportation was Racibórz. In addition to the names and surnames, other information about the victims available on the lists was also seized. The types of information overlap for most of the people included and usually include: first name, last name, for women also maiden name, date and place of birth, occupation before capture, last address of residence. For some people, the dates of death were also written by hand on the typed letters, as well as short markings, the meaning of which could not yet be fully explained (it is assumed that these were identification numbers or transport numbers). As for the people who did not have a date of death inscribed, it does not mean that they survived the capture. It could happen that, for various unknown reasons, information about their deaths was not considered – the war and the Holocaust brought with them many missing and anonymous victims, and even meticulous German keeping of records did not guarantee the creation of gaps in the death register.

The list was prepared according to the order of transports (only brief notes were made about two transports, as there are no specific lists of people for them).”

As just mentioned, five of Perry Gruenberger’s ancestors were deported to Theresienstadt on two separate transports per the information Kamil Kotas has assembled, including Perry’s grandparents. Below is the information related to the Grünbergers, some of which replicates or augments information I found in the online Arolsen Archives and Yad Vashem.

Transport XVIII/2 from Opole to Theresienstadt (Terezín, today in the Czech Republic), dated 20 November 1942.

Grünberger Max, born 22.3.1870 in Gniew in Pomerania, merchant, residing in Racibórz at Weidenstr. 15 (Staszica Street), date of death: 15.7.1943.

Grünberger Emma, née Herzka, born 18.12.1876 in Sedlnice (Sedlnitz) in Moravia, no profession, residing in Racibórz at Weidenstr. 15 (Staszica Street), date of death: 17.12.1942.

Grünberger Flora, née Toczek, born 28.4.1867 in Daniec near Opole, no profession, residing in Racibórz at Friedrichstr. 4 (Głowackiego Street), date of death: 27.11.1942.

EDITORS’ NOTE: I’m uncertain how Max and Emma Grünberger are related to Perry but given the years they were born I suspect that they were Siegfried Grünberger’s younger brother and sister-in-law, in other words Perry’s great-great-uncle and -aunt. Flora Grünberger, née Toczek, I know was Siegfried Grünberger’s wife, another of Perry’s great-great-aunts. The three Grünbergers on the November 20, 1942, transport were among 50 Jews deported from Oppeln, Germany [today: Opole, Poland], 38 of whom came from Ratibor. (see Figure 10)

The second transport with Grünbergers from Ratibor that arrived in Theresienstadt on the 3rd of August 1943 included Perry’s grandparents:

On August 3, 1943, two people sent from Racibórz arrived in Theresienstadt outside the transport (XVIII/6 “Ez”):

Grünberger Fritz, born 2.9.1893, accountant, residing in Racibórz at Horst Wessel pl. 11a (Wolności Square), no information about death.

Grünberger Henriette, born 29.6.1897, seamstress, housewife, residing in Racibórz at Horst Wessel pl. 11a (Wolności Square), no information about death.

 

According to the Arolsen Archives deportation cards, Fritz and Henriette Grünberger were deported from Theresienstadt, presumably to Auschwitz, on different transports leaving on two closely separated days, respectively, on the 29th of September 1944 (see Figure 12) and on the 6th of October 1944. (see Figure 13) 

Turning now to the second article Kamil Kotas has written, which as noted above includes the names of Jews with Prussian citizenship living in the Ratibor region in the period between 1812 and 1815. Relying on a website run by the Museum in Gliwice [German: Gleiwitz], Kamil has compiled and published a list of Jews who were citizens of the Silesian part of the Kingdom of Prussia in the years 1812-1815. The census is based on lists that were published in the years 1814-1815 in the official newspapers of the day in Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland].

Some brief history. The lists were a result of the emancipation edict of 1812 affecting Jews in the Kingdom of Prussia, to which most of Silesia belonged to at the time. Under the edict, Jews were granted citizenship on the condition that they use permanent, immutable family names, as the rest of the inhabitants of Prussia had already done. Previously Jews had only used their first names and so-called patronymics, that’s to say, a variation of their fathers’ names. Without permanent surnames, the identification of Jews and administrative and legal proceedings involving them was complicated.

Based on the 1812-1815 censuses, the Museum of Gliwice was able to identify 67 Jews from the area of today’s Racibórz County. Notably, the list included the name of Ascher Grünberger from Annaberg, Kreis Ratibor, Prussia [today: Chałupki, Poland]. Chałupki is located along the current Polish-Czech Republic border about 15.5 miles south-southeast of Racibórz. (Figure 14) Interestingly, as Kamil perceptively notes in his article, only eight of the 67 Jewish citizens residing in the county at the time lived within the city’s limits.

 

Figure 14. Map showing the distance from Racibórz to Chałupki, Poland where Perry’s distant ancestor Ascher Grünberger came from according to censuses from 1812-1815

 

Perry shared his Grünberger family tree with me but regrettably Ascher does not show up on it.

Intriguingly, Kamil has researched and written about an Adolf Grünberger, born in around 1842. He was a Jewish merchant from Ratibor who received Hungarian citizenship on the 10th of October 1886, and emigrated to Timișoara, Romania after he became widowed, eventually remarrying Sharlote Schmidt in 1889 and building a house in Timișoara that still stands. How Adolf is related to Perry Gruenberger is entirely unclear.

As a related aside, my family’s earliest known association with Ratibor dates to 1819 when the names of my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck (1808-1863) and his brother Jonas Bruck (1813-1883) are included among the names of students who attended the inaugural class when the city’s gymnasium, or high school, opened. Thus, it was disappointing not to see my family’s surname included among the list of original Jewish inhabitants of Ratibor County. Possibly it’s an omission or my family lived in a different town outside the county’s borders at the time?

In my ensuing post, I will return to the two articles Kamil Kotas sent me, as they not only include members of the Grünberger family, but, astonishingly, also include distant ancestors of a childhood friend from New York. In contrast to Ascher Grünberger to whom Perry cannot draw an unbroken linear connection, in the case of this childhood friend we are able to make a direct connection to his earliest forebear. In collaboration with my friend’s daughter, an avid genealogist, we will briefly explore this connection.

 

REFERENCES

Kotas, Kamil. Casa Adolf Grünberger. www.ziemiaraciborska.pl/wstepna-lista-raciborskich-zydow-deportowanych-do-obozow-zaglady

Kotas, Kamil. (2022, March 2). Żydzi z obywatelstwem pruskim na ziemi raciborskiej w latach 1812-1815. Ziemia Raciborska.pl.

Kotas, Kamil. (2022, March 2). Żydzi z obywatelstwem pruskim na ziemi raciborskiej w latach 1812-1815. Ziemia Raciborska.pl.

 

 

 

 

POST 144: SPURIOUS AND AUTHENTIC HISTORIC DOCUMENTS RELATED TO MY GREAT-GREAT-GRANDFATHER, SAMUEL BRUCK (1808-1863)

 

Note: In this post, which I anticipate will be of limited interest to most readers, I examine primary source documents related to my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck (1808-1863) which shed light on his business activities and legacy. The fact that he owned one of the first hotels in Ratibor in Silesia [today: Racibórz, Poland] and had his hand in other commercial ventures made finding information about him easier than it would have been for a less prominent individual.

Related Posts:

POST 11: RATIBOR & BRUCK’S “PRINZ VON PREUßEN“ HOTEL

POST 11, POSTSCRIPT: RATIBOR & BRUCK’S “PRINZ VON PREUßEN” HOTEL

POST 11, POSTSCRIPT 2: RATIBOR & BRUCK’S “PRINZ VON PREUßEN” HOTEL

POST 60: 200 YEARS OF THE ROYAL EVANGELICAL HIGH SCHOOL IN RATIBOR & A CLUE TO THE BRUCK FAMILY

POST 132: FATE OF THE BRUCK’S “PRINZ VON PREUßEN“ FAMILY HOTEL IN RATIBOR (RACIBÓRZ): GEOPOLITICAL FACTORS

 

Thanks to the assistance of readers, friends, and distant relatives, over the last few months I’ve acquired primary source documents that shed light on the activities of a few of my earliest Bruck relatives from Silesia (Figure 1) when it was a part of Prussia before Germany became a unified state in 1871. Primary source documents including contemporary registers of vital events, such as births, marriages, and deaths; records certifying these occurrences; contemporary handbooks and address directories; and concurrent historical accounts or diaries, are my “gold standard” for verifying the age and context of ancestral events. While these records are not infallible, they come as close as possible to confirming the timing of vital events.

 

Figure 1. General map of Silesia when it was part of the state of Prussia

 

In this post, I will discuss some evidentiary materials that my dear friend Peter Albrecht von Preußen and others have unearthed related to my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck (1808-1863). (Figure 2) Samuel is thought to be the original owner of the family establishment in Ratibor, Prussia [today: Racibórz, Poland], the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel (Figure 3), believed to have been purchased in around 1850. However, a recently uncovered memoir penned by Eberhard Friedrich Bruck (1877-1960), one of Samuel’s grandnephews, currently being translated by his granddaughter, Helen Winter née Renshaw (b. 1948), now suggests Samuel’s father, Jacob Bruck (1770-1836), may originally have conceived the idea of building the hotel. As we speak, I am trying to run to ground other primary source documents that can not only confirm which Bruck ancestor first owned the hotel but possibly when the hotel might have been constructed.

 

Figure 2. Samuel Bruck (1808-1863)

 

 

Figure 3. Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel

 

Before launching into the documents that Peter Albrecht (Figure 4) and others have found and what I learned about Samuel, I would like to share with readers something I discovered in the process. I mistakenly believed that because the Bruck’s Hotel was in Ratibor, relevant archival materials would be restricted to the “Archiwum Państwowe w Katowicach Oddział w Raciborzu,” that’s to say the “State Archives in Katowice Branch in Racibórz.” Such is not the case. While I’ve assuredly found records about the Bruck’s Hotel in Racibórz’s archives, thanks to one of my readers I recently learned about and obtained archival materials related to the hotel from the State Archives in Wrocław, Branch in Kamieniec Ząbkowicki [formerly Kamenz, Prussia]. These latter materials will be the subject of a future post as they speak to the subject of the last days of my family’s ownership of the hotel in 1926-1927. My point to readers is that even if your family originates from one specific town in Silesia, you should keep an open mind as to which archives you search for ancestral information.

 

Figure 4. My good friend Peter Albrecht von Preußen

 

Because Peter’s surname is contained within the name of the former family establishment in Ratibor, Bruck’s Hotel “Prinz von Preußen,” and the fact that both of our families have deep ties to Silesia, caused Peter to take an interest in finding Bruck-related documents. Among other things, his discoveries shed light on my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck’s business activities.

Materials uncovered about Samuel Bruck provide a cautionary tale of the lens through which primary source documents should be examined. Just because historical files are related to an individual with the same name as one’s ancestor does not guarantee they are relevant, particularly if the surname is reasonably common in a geographic area.

In the online extracts of files archived at the Archiwum Państwowe w Opolu, State Archives in Opole [formerly Oppeln, Prussia], Peter found the following two files related to a Samuel Bruck from the former Prussian town of Zülz [today: Biała, informally Biała Prudnicka, Poland]:

“Die letzwillige Bestimmung des Breltesten und Handelsmannes Samuel Bruck Zülz: 1820-1835” (Figure 5)

(“The last will and testament of the brethren and merchant Samuel Bruck Zülz: 1820-1835”)

“Die gerichtliche Annahme und Niederlegung das von dem Kaufmann Samuel Bruck am 13 Januar 1832 verschlossen übergebene Testaments: 1832-1839” (Figure 6)

(“The judicial acceptance and filing of the will handed over by the merchant Samuel Bruck on 13 January 1832 in sealed form: 1832-1839”)

 

Figure 5. Index in the State Archives in Opolo to the file containing “The last will and testament of the brethren and merchant Samuel Bruck Zülz: 1820-1835”
Figure 6. Index in the State Archives in Opolo to the file containing “The judicial acceptance and filing of the will handed over by the merchant Samuel Bruck on 13 January 1832 in sealed form: 1832-1839”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Though the wills relate to a Samuel Bruck who filed testaments in the town of Zülz [today: Biała, informally Biała Prudnicka, Poland], this alone was not enough to convince me they related to someone other than my ancestor. As I just mentioned, I’ve found documents on the Bruck’s Hotel in Ratibor in archives other than Racibórz. For geographic reference, Opole is roughly 26 miles north-northeast of Biała. (Figure 7)

 

Figure 7. Map showing the distance between Biała (German: Zülz) and Opole (German: Oppeln)

 

Let me briefly digress. Readers cannot fail to notice that the two wills filed with the court in Zülz date from when Samuel Bruck, born in 1808, would respectively have been only 12 and 24 years of age. However unlikely writing wills at such a young age might appear to us, I try and imagine how different things might have been almost 200 years ago. I considered the possibility that Samuel had been extremely precocious and might have felt obligated to write a will as improbable as this seems.

Persuaded both files might relate to my ancestor, I ordered them. (Figures 8-9) Upon their arrival, I asked my fourth cousin Thomas Koch if he could help me make sense of the 39 pages of records I’d been sent; Thomas is the great-great-grandnephew of Samuel Bruck, thus he has an interest in the Bruck’s Hotel and Samuel Bruck.

 

Figure 8. Cover page of the 1820 file for the merchant Samuel Bruck from Zülz
Figure 9. Cover page of the 1832 file for the merchant Samuel Bruck from Zülz

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

There were some immediate clues the wills from Zülz related to someone other than my Samuel Bruck. The Samuel Bruck in question was apparently the owner of a local pawnshop and an ironmonger (i.e., a dealer in iron and hardware), as well as a money lender, trades I’ve never heard associated with the Samuel Bruck from Ratibor. The Zülz wills also refer to Samuel as a parish or community elder, terms unlikely to have been applied to a 12 or 24-year old person. For the most part, the files document what court officials said, the actions of Samuel Bruck, and the fees to be paid by Samuel. Something notably absent that would affirmatively have allowed me  to determine the testator are named heirs, none of whom are identified.

Convinced the Samuel Bruck from Zülz, though likely related to my Bruck family from Ratibor (Biała and Racibórz are only about 38 miles apart (Figure 10)) in some unknown way, was not the former owner of the Bruck’s Hotel, I investigated other possibilities. I examined the Church of Latter-Day Saints Family Historic Center Microfilm 1271493 for Zülz, and discovered a Samuel Bruck born there on the 10th of September 1761. (Figure 11) It seems likely this Samuel Bruck is the person whose 1820 and 1832 wills were filed locally.

 

Figure 10. Map showing the distance between Biała (German: Zülz) to Racibórz (German: Ratibor)

 

Figure 11. Record from LDS Family Historic Center Microfilm 1271493 for Zülz listing a Samuel Bruck born there on the 10th of September 1761

 

One document, however, that unequivocally relates to the Samuel Bruck from Zülz is a notice about a bankruptcy auction that took place on the 23rd of June 1837 in Zülz (Figures 12a-b), presumably following this Samuel Bruck’s death in 1836 or 1837. The reason for this certainty is that this Samuel Bruck is identified in the notice as a “Eisenhändlert,” an iron trader, just as his wills identify him. According to Peter, while it is unusual for the estate of a deceased person to wind up in bankruptcy, this is possible when there are no heirs and/or no will. We know two testaments existed, so likely there were no heirs.

 

Figure 12a. Bankruptcy auction notice for the estate of the iron trader Samuel Bruck placed in a newspaper from Zülz dated the 23rd of June 1837

 

Figure 12b. Transcribed bankruptcy auction notice for Samuel Bruck identifying him as a “Eisenhändlert,” an iron trader

 

There is another document in my possession that should have clued me in to the fact that Samuel Bruck from Zülz was not my great-great-grandfather. In connection with his research, my retired lawyer friend from Racibórz, Paul Newerla, who has written extensively about Ratibor and Silesia found a historic publication from 1820 about the grand opening of the Royal Evangelical High School in Ratibor on the 2nd of June 1819. (Figures 13a-c) It lists the names of the enrolled students, including both Samuel Bruck and his younger brother, Jonas Bruck (1813-1883). It is more reasonable to surmise that at the age of 11, Samuel Bruck would have been in school in Ratibor rather than writing wills.

 

Figure 13a. Cover of 1820 publication about the grand opening of the Royal Evangelical High School in Ratibor on the 2nd of June 1819
Figure 13b. Inside cover of 1820 publication about the grand opening of the Royal Evangelical High School in Ratibor on the 2nd of June 1819

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 13c. Page 70 of the 1820 publication listing the names of enrolled students, including Samuel Bruck and Jonas Bruck who attended the inaugural class at the Royal Evangelical High School in Ratibor on the 2nd of June 1819

 

 

Samuel Bruck is listed in an 1843 merchant member book, entitled “Grosses Adressbuch der Kaufleute, Fabrikanten und handelnden Gewerbsleute von Europa und der hauptplazen der fremden Weltheile: Brandenburg, Preussen, Posen, Pommern, Schlesien,” “Large address book of the merchants, manufacturers, and trading professionals from Europe and the main square of the foreign world salvation: Brandenburg, Prussia, Posen, Pomerania, Silesia.” (Figures 14a-b) Interestingly, 1843 corresponds with the year that a city map of Ratibor shows the location where the Bruck’s Hotel once stood having a building on the lot. (Paul Newerla, personal communication) Samuel Bruck’s listing in the 1843 merchant member guide, however, may or may not have anything to do with his ownership of the Hotel “Prinz von Preußen” at this time. Samuel is known to have been involved in other businesses.

Figure 14a. Cover of 1843 merchant guide, entitled “Grosses Adressbuch der Kaufleute, Fabrikanten und handelnden Gewerbsleute von Europa und der hauptplazen der fremden Weltheile: Brandenburg, Preussen, Posen, Pommern, Schlesien,” listing Samuel Bruck from Ratibor

 

Figure 14b. Page from 1843 merchant guide listing Samuel Bruck from Ratibor

 

As a related aside, Ratibor was once a walled city. It was not until 1828 that the Oder gate, the tower nearest where the Bruck’s Hotel was eventually built, was demolished; the removal of this gate made it possible to extend Oderstraße, the street on which the Bruck’s Hotel stood (Paul Newerla, personal communication). It’s safe to assume that it was only after 1828 that the Hotel “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel could have been built.

As readers can generally make out from the photo of the hotel (see Figure 3), it was a reasonably large building known to have had 32 guest rooms. How long the hotel took to build, who paid for the construction, and the date of the grand opening are yet unknown. Whether I will be able to work out the answers to these questions is a big unknown.

The famous Austrian composer, Johann Strauss II, is known to have performed twice at the Hotel “Prinz von Preußen” once on the 17th of October 1850, then again, a month later, on the 17th of November 1850. Neither advertisement makes mention of the “Bruck’s Hotel,” only “Prinz von Preußen.” Possibly at the time Samuel Bruck did not yet own the hotel.

By the middle of 1852, Samuel Bruck assuredly owned the establishment because he signed a contract on the 14th of October 1852 permitting the so-called Liedertafel to hold meetings in the hotel’s ballroom beginning in January 1853. (Figures 15a-c) Page 20 (Figure 15c) mentions the “Hotelbesitzer Bruck,” that’s to say, the hotel owner Bruck. This citation occurs in a 1909 publication, entitled “Festschrift zum 75 jährigen Jubelfest der Liedertafel,” “The commemorative publication for the 75th anniversary of the Liedertafel,” in Ratibor. It was released on the 25th and 26th of September 1909 in conjunction with the unveiling of the Joseph Freiherr von Eichendorf monument in Ratibor. (Figure 15d)

 

Figure 15a. Page 20 of book about the Liedertafel mentioning the Bruck’s Hotel
Figure 15b. Page 21 of book about the Liedertafel mentioning the Bruck’s Hotel

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 15c. Page 20 of Liedertafel book with Bruck’s Hotel citation circled

 

Figure 15d. Cover page of the book marking the 75th anniversary of the “Liedertafel” in Ratibor, released in conjunction with the unveiling of the Eichendorff monument

 

 

The Liedertafel translates literally to “song board.” It was a co-ed musical society or amateur choir, which in the case of the Ratibor group consisted of about 88 members. They met in the large ballroom of the Bruck’s Hotel every Thursday and Friday evening for an à la carte dinner with plenty of alcohol, followed by a sing-along to music played by a pianist, often accompanied by a bassist, cellist, and violinist. Their contract with the hotel suggests Samuel Bruck was a well-regarded and integrated member of the community.

Another mundane document tracked down by Peter Albrecht shows that Samuel Bruck was allowed to operate as an inn keeper by the police after obtaining fire insurance for the hotel through a company in Stettin [today Szczecin, Poland] called “Pommerania.” (Figure 16) Although the announcement published in Oppeln, Prussia [today: Opole, Poland] on the 4th of March 1856 makes no specific mention of fire insurance, to secure police permission to operate the inn, it is implicit that fire insurance was obtained.

 

Figure 16. March 4, 1856, announcement in Oppeln paper proving Samuel Bruck had obtained police approval to operate his inn after obtaining insurance from a company called “Pommerania,” located in Stettin [today: Szczecin, Poland]
 

An advertisement Samuel Bruck posted in April 1858 indicates that he was involved in more than running an inn and being a lumber wholesaler. According to this ad he also sold lump lime (Figure 17):

Figure 17. April 1858 advertisement by Samuel Bruck offering lump lime for sale from his lime kiln in Moerau [German: Mohrau; Polish: Morów]

 

Transcribed: 

Kalk-Anzeige

Von meinem in Moerau gelegenen Kalkoefen verkaufe ich besten Stueckkalk, den Waggon von 33 Tonnen mit 27 Rthlr. (Reichstahler) frei hier. Gefaellige Auftraege werden prompt und bestens ausgefuehrt.

Ratibor, im April 1858

 S. Bruck 

im Hotel “ Prinz von Preußen”

 

Translated: 

Lime Ad

From my lime kiln located in Moerau I am selling the best lump lime, the wagon of 33 tons with 27 Rthlr. (Reichstahler) free here. Appropriate orders are executed promptly and in the best possible way.

Ratibor, April 1858

S. Bruck

in the hotel “Prince of Prussia”

 

Let me offer a few comments about this ad. The spelling of many place names in Prussia changed between 1890 and 1900, so “Moerau” became known as “Mohrau,” (Figure 18) and is now known as Morów, Poland. It is about 57 miles northwest of Racibórz. (Figure 19)

 

Figure 18. Old map from Meyers Gazetteer showing location of Mohrau, Prussia

 

Figure 19. Map showing the distance between Racibórz and Morów

 

From 1855 onwards, a Prussian ton was equivalent to 200 kilos or almost 441 pounds. Thirty-three Prussian tons was equivalent to 6,600 kilos, 6.6 metric tons, or 14,551 pounds. Presumably this was the maximum weight an ox cart could handle.

Samuel Bruck passed away in July 1863. In June 1864, an official notice was placed in the Ratibor paper stating that Samuel Bruck’s handelsgesellschaft, holding company, which had been inherited by Samuel’s seven children, was ceded by the co-heirs to Samuel’s oldest child, Oskar Bruck, making him the sole owner of the S. Bruck Handelsgesellschaft. (Figure 20)

 

Figure 20. June 2, 1864 notice from Ratibor paper announcing Samuel Bruck’s “handelsgesellschaft,” holding company, which had been inherited by Samuel’s seven children, was ceded by the co-heirs to Samuel’s oldest child, Oskar Bruck

 

Transcription: 

Bekanntmachung

Bei der sub Nr. 69 unseres Firmen-Register fūr den Kaufmann Samuel Bruck eingetragen Firma S. Bruck ist zufolge Verfügung vom 2ten Juni 1864 der Vermerk:

Die Firma ist durch Erbgang auf die Geschwister Oskar, Fedor, Jenny, Emilie, Julius, Helene und Wilhelm Bruck übergangen und die Miterben haben dieselbe dem Kaufmann Oskar Bruck abgetreten, und sub Nr. 189 unseres Firmen-Registers der Kaufmann Oskar Bruck hierselbst als Inhaber der hiesigen Firma S. Bruck zufolge Verfügung von dem selben Tage eingetragen worden.

Ratibor, den 2. Juni 1864

Königliches Kreisgericht, 1. Abtheilung

 Translation: 

Announcement

According to the decree of June 2, 1864, the company S. Bruck, registered under No. 69 of our register of companies for the merchant Samuel Bruck, is marked:

The company has passed by inheritance to the siblings Oskar, Fedor, Jenny, Emilie, Julius, Helene and Wilhelm Bruck and the co-heirs have ceded the same to the merchant Oskar Bruck, and sub No. 189 of our company register the merchant Oskar Bruck has been registered here as the owner of the local company S. Bruck according to the decree of the same day.

Ratibor, June 2, 1864

Royal District Court, 1st Department

 

We learn a few unexciting things from this announcement. First, Oskar Bruck was a kaufmann, a merchant, which would have required a four-year apprenticeship. Had I not already known the names of Samuel’s children, this announcement would have provided this information. Samuel Bruck’s Handelsgesellschaft was registered as Number 69 in the District Court, while Oskar Bruck’s Handelsgesellschaft is registered as Number 189. As we speak, I’m trying to determine whether these files still exist in the Racibórz archives.

The final document related to Samuel Bruck involves a landmark Prussian case that his eldest son Oskar Bruck got involved in following his father’s death. The  case is discussed at length in a book on Prussian case law published in 1867, entitled “Central-Organ fur die deutsche handels- und Wechselrecht,” “Central Organ for German Commercial and Exchange Law.” (Figure 21)

 

Figure 21. Cover of Prussian case law book published in 1867, entitled “Central-Organ fur die deutsche handels- und Wechselrecht,” “Central Organ for German Commercial and Exchange Law,” providing a detailed description of the landmark case involving Samuel and Oskar Bruck’s estate

 

While the following will be of limited interest to most readers, let me briefly outline and summarize the salient points of this very involved case for readers.

In addition to being an inn owner, Samuel Bruck was a lumber wholesaler, and may have made his money here which enabled him to construct and/or purchase the Bruck’s Hotel. Shortly before his death in 1863, Samuel entered into a contract with a Dutch merchant, David Schwedter, agreeing to sell him 260 pieces of 4” x 4” structural lumber, possibly the equivalent of four ox carts of finished product. The Dutchman lived in the vicinity of Berlin, and had requested Samuel deliver the milled lumber there, which he’d agreed to.

Following Samuel’s death, Oskar Bruck acted on an interim basis on behalf of the the S. Bruck Handelsgesselchaft, which the probate court only officially granted him authority to do in his own name on the 2nd of June 1864 (see Figure 20). Regardless, following his father’s death, he notified Schwedter by mail that the transaction would go forward as planned and that he would run the S. Bruck Handelsgesselchaft.

Either Samuel before his death or Oskar contracted with an agent named Atzpodim who had a warehouse in Brieskow (Figure 22), near Frankfurt an der Oder. Schwedter had agree that Atzpodim would be the pickup point for the lumber. Oskar Bruck shipped the lumber to Atzpodim who acknowledged receipt of the materials. Oskar then notified Schwedter the lumber was ready for pickup at Atzpodim’s warehouse, and invoiced him, as agreed upon.

 

Figure 22. Old map from Meyers Gazetteer showing location of Brieskow, near Frankfurt an der Oder

Schwedter then mailed a letter to Oskar requesting him to instruct Atzpodim to transport the lumber to J.J. Stramer’s warehouse located in Stralow [today: Stralau in the Friedrichshain district of Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg in Berlin, Germany]. (Figure 23) The distance between the two towns is about 64 miles. (Figure 24)

Figure 23. Old map from Meyers Gazetteer showing location of Stralow [today: Stralau]
Figure 24. Map showing the distance between Brieskow and Stralau

 

Three or four days later, Schwedter filed for bankruptcy. Atzpodim had not yet shipped the lumber to Stramer for reasons that are not entirely clear, although possibly Atzpodim through word-of-mouth had learned of Schwedter’s financial woes and sought to protect the young Oskar Bruck. I surmise Atzpodim had been one of Samuel’s trusted business associates over the years.

At this point, the trustee for the Bankruptcy Court in Frankfurt an der Oder sued Atzpodim for release of the lumber. Had the lumber already been delivered, the Bankruptcy Court would have carried it on their books and could then have sold it at a bankruptcy auction; Oskar, as creditor, would have been paid pennies on the dollar. Atzpodim, by not delivering the lumber to Stramer, saved Oskar from a steep financial loss.

Prussian law dealt with merchandise in bankruptcy proceedings where the debtor had taken possession of the merchandise three days or less before the debtor filed for bankruptcy and had paid not in cash but with credit.

In the case at hand, Atzpodim didn’t receive instructions from Oskar Bruck until the 26th of November 1863. Schwedter filed for bankruptcy on the 30th of November 1863. The Supreme Court in Berlin upheld the lower court’s ruling that the lumber shipment fell under the 3-day rule. If the lumber had been delivered to Schwedter, which it obviously wasn’t, he would have been required to return it because he hadn’t paid in cash but by credit, with a so-called Wechsel.

Let me say a few brief words about a Wechsel. According to German law, even today, transactions based on Wechsels can only be transacted by full merchants, meaning those who have completed a 4-year apprenticeship and received a kaufmann’s certificate. Upon certification, the kaufmann is registered either as a sole proprietor or as a Handelsgesellschaft, a trading company, like those Samuel and Oskar Bruck had recorded, in the Handelsregister, commercial register, of the city where the business is licensed.

The Wechsel allows the parties to do several things. It can be used as collateral for a bank loan. It can also be used as a futures contract; thus, with a Wechsel in hand, Schwedter could have sold the lumber at a higher price for a profit. Similarly, Samuel or Oskar could have sold his obligation to produce the lumber to a different sawmill (other than the one they originally contracted with) or another lumber merchant for a profit.

In closing, let me say a few things. The specifics of the information contained in some of the primary source documents cited above are less important than the fact they still exist. For researchers seeking comparable information about their ancestors who may have owned or operated businesses, an awareness that such documents may still exist can be useful. Often, it’s a question of knowing where to look and what to ask for. On a personal level, the fact that my family was involved in a legal case that was deemed of sufficient importance to merit inclusion in a book about Prussian commercial and trade law is fascinating.

Cobbling together one’s family history invites a clichéd comparison to the saying that “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

POST 52: “EMIN PASCHA, I PRESUME?”

Note: This post is about a fascinating man originally named Isaak Edward Schnitzer, born into a middle-class German Jewish family from Silesia, who adopted a Turkish mode of living and took the Turkish name, Mehmed Emin Pascha. I discovered he is related by marriage to the Pauly family about whom I’ve recently been writing.

Several of my recent Blog posts have dealt with the tragic circumstances surrounding the fate of several descendants of my great-great-uncle and aunt, Josef and Rosalie Pauly, during the Nazi Era. This post deals not with their descendants but rather with one of Josef’s ancestors by marriage, an exotic individual who turns out to have been rather well-known.

Figure 1. Klaus Pauly, Josef & Rosalie Pauly’s grandson, who developed the detailed Pauly Family Tree (“Stammbaum”) (2000)
Figure 2. Peter Pauly, one of Klaus Pauly’s sons, examining his father’s family tree (Berlin, 2015)
Figure 3. Andi Pauly, another of Klaus Pauly’s sons, keeper of many Pauly family pictures, documents and letters, which he has generously shared with me (Munich, 2018)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 4. The section of Klaus Pauly’s family tree with the name of Emin Pascha (Eduard Schnitzer) circled, along with that of Josef Pauly, Zadig Pauly (Josef’s father), and two of Josef’s uncles, Izchak (Eduard) Pauly and Jakob Pauly; Jakob’s second wife, Melanie Schnitzer, was the sister of Emin Pascha (Eduard Schnitzer)

An elaborate hand-drawn Stammbaum, family tree, developed by one of Josef and Rosalie’s grandsons, Klaus Pauly (Figure 1), was given to me in 2015 by Peter Pauly (Figure 2) and Andi Pauly (Figure 3), two of Klaus’ sons; this tree provides an enormous amount of detailed information that’s allowed me to better understand the relationship between different branches of my extended family, and is a resource I repeatedly consult. Re-examining this tree, I found a name Klaus Pauly had jotted down that was assuredly not Jewish, “Emin Pascha,” including a notation of the name “Eduard Schnitzer” (Figure 4); Emin Pascha was merely identified as the brother of the second wife of one of Josef Pauly’s (Figure 5) uncles, Jakob Pauly, the wife’s only identifier being her maiden name, Schnitzer. The notation seemed out-of-place in the Stammbaum, so I did a Google query on Emin Pascha (Figure 6), and was rewarded with a flurry of information about this fascinating character, part of which provided the inspiration for the title of this Blog post.

Figure 5. Josef Pauly (1843-1916), whose uncle Jakob Pauly was married to Melanie Schnitzer, sister of Emin Pascha
Figure 6. Emin Pascha (1840-1892), born Isaak Eduard Schnitzer in Oppeln, Silesia on March 28, 1840

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

According to what I found on the Internet, Emin was born Isaak Eduard Schnitzer in Oppeln, Silesia, Germany [today: Opole, Poland] on March 28, 1840, into a middle-class German Jewish family; they moved when Emin was about 2 to the not-to-distant town of Neisse, Germany [today: Nysa, Poland]. (Figure 7) His father died in Neisse in 1845, whereupon his mother remarried a Christian, and she and her offspring were baptized Lutherans.

Figure 7. 1893 map of Silesia with the towns of Oppeln and Neisse circled, places, respectively, where Emin Pascha was born and lived growing up

Neither Emin’s father nor mother’s names were mentioned in any of the sources I examined. But, with specific dates and places in hand, I turned to ancestry.com to see whether I could find their names, and, if possible, confirm Emin’s biography; there I unearthed a family tree identifying Louis Schnitzer and Pauline Schnitzer née Schweitzer as Emin’s parents, along with the name of a younger sister, Melanie Schnitzer (Figure 8), born a year after Emin. While not specifically named in the Pauly family tree, Melanie is clearly the second wife of Jakob Pauly, one of Josef Pauly’s uncles. (Figures 9-10)

Figure 8. Family tree from ancestry.com identifying Louis Schnitzer and Pauline Schnitzer née Schweitzer as Emin Pascha’s parents, and Melanie Schnitzer as his sister
Figure 9. Zadig Pauly (1810-1884), Josef Pauly’s father, one of Jakob Pauly’s brothers
Figure 10. One of Josef Pauly’s uncles, Izchak (Eduard) Pauly (1814-1891), another brother of Jakob Pauly

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Not satisfied with merely confirming the names and relationships of Emin’s next-of-kin, I became curious whether I could find any of their names in on-line Jewish records, so I turned to famlysearch.org, the website of the Mormon Church. For those unfamiliar with this database, it is possible to search for Jewish records by place starting on the portal page by selecting “Catalog,” entering the name of the town (Figure 11), hitting “Search,” selecting “Jewish Records,” if any, and finally clicking on “Matrikel” (“register”) for whatever time period you’re interested in; the next screen will list any microfilm available for the place you’ve selected. Any microfilm with a camera icon on the far right can be viewed from home, and pages downloaded.

Figure 11. Screen shot of the “Catalog” page from “familysearch.org” where records for a specific place can be searched, in this case Nysa (Neisse)

 

I was able to locate Jewish records on microfilm for the two Silesian towns related to Emin, Oppeln and Neisse. Astonishingly, I found the register pages for Oppeln showing that Emin’s father, Louis Schnitzer, had one child born on March 29, 1840 (Figure 12), obviously Emin (Eduard), then another a year later March 28, 1841 (Figure 13), obviously Melanie. In the Jewish records for Neisse, the nearby town where Emin’s family moved when he was two years old, I discovered that Louis and Pauline Schnitzer were married on June 26, 1839 (Figure 14), and that Louis died on February 24, 1845 (Figure 15); because the Neisse marriage register also mentions Oppeln, it’s not entirely clear in which town the parents were married. Regular readers of my Blog will know I’m never entirely satisfied until I run-to-ground any source documents I’m able to find, ergo my exhaustive search.

Figure 12. Jewish register (LDS Roll No. 1184445, items 4-9) from Oppeln, Silesia, listing one of Louis Schnitzer’s children born on March 29, 1840, clearly, Eduard Schnitzer, later Emin Pascha
Figure 13. Jewish register (LDS Roll No. 1184445, items 4-9) from Oppeln, Silesia, listing one of Louis Schnitzer’s children born on March 28, 1841, clearly, Melanie Schnitzer, Eduard Schnitzer’s younger sister

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Figure 14. Jewish register (LDS Roll No. 1184444, page 76) from Neisse, Silesia, showing Louis Schnitzer and Pauline Schweitzer’s marriage on June 26, 1839
Figure 15. Jewish register (LDS Roll No. 1184444, page 85) from Neisse, Silesia, showing Louis Schnitzer died on February 24, 1845, at 38 years of age

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Readers can click on the hyperlinks related to Emin to find out more about his exceptional life and career but let me briefly summarize. Emin was educated at universities in Breslau, Königsberg, and Berlin, qualifying as a physician in 1864; for reasons that are unclear, he was disqualified from practice, and left Germany for Istanbul with the intention of entering the Ottoman service. In 1865 he became a medical officer in the Turkish army. He was linguistically talented, and while in the service added Turkish, Albanian and Greek to his repertoire of European languages.

After joining the staff of the Ottoman governor of northern Albania, around 1870, Emin adopted a Turkish way of living and took a Turkish name. In 1876, Emin became a medical officer in Khartoum, as a staff member of the British governor-general of the Sudan, Gen. Charles Gordon. In 1878, Gordon appointed him governor of Equatoria in the southern Sudan, today South Sudan, operating out of Lado. He was an enlightened administrator and brought an end to slavery in the region he administered.

Figure 16. Painting showing the encounter of Emin Pascha and Henry Morton Stanley in April 1888, when I can imagine Stanley saying to Emin, “Emin Pascha, I presume?”

 

In 1881, Emin was forced to withdraw southwards from Lado on account of a revolt led by Muhammad Ahmad, a mystical religious leader who tapped into widespread resentment among the Sudanese population towards the oppressive policies of the Turko-Egyptian rulers of Equatoria. The “Emin Pascha Relief Expedition,” led by Henry Morton Stanley, of Stanley and Livingstone fame, was forced to come to Emin’s rescue in April 1888 (Figure 16); Emin Pascha and Stanley spent many uneasy months together in argument and indecision, and ultimately Stanley left without being able to bring Emin home in triumph. Following Stanley’s departure, Emin entered the service of the German East Africa Company and was murdered on the 23rd October 1892, in the Congo Free State [today: Democratic Republic of the Congo] by Arab slave traders, among whom he’d made many enemies for his views on slavery, while on an expedition to lakes in the interior of that country. (Figure 17)

Figure 17. Emin Pascha later in life

 

Clearly, Emin Pascha, was not a blood relative of mine, but as I research and write about my own family, I occasionally come across compelling characters who’ve left their trace in the historical record such as Emin. As a former archaeologist, I find brushes with people of renown the inspiration for Blog stories, and I’m drawn to chronicle such encounters. And, in the process, I sometimes find myself learning about historical events or places of which I know little, but which still find their way into today’s news, such as the South Sudan and the Democratic Republic of the Congo, for reasons that may partially have their origins in the Colonial period. As an example, the introduction of sleeping sickness into Uganda is attributed by scholars to the movement of Emin and his followers; prior to the 1890’s, sleeping sickness was unknown in Uganda, but it is theorized that the tsetse fly was probably brought by Emin from the Congo territory.