Note: This post though of limited interest is broadly speaking about “metadata,” data about data. Essentially, it’s structured information that acts as a “catalog” or “index” for other data, making it easier for me to find, understand, and use that information. Given that I plan to donate the silverware from the Bruck’s Hotel to the Muzeum w Racibórz (Museum in Racibórz), the town where my father was born, I want a record of this donation. While I hope my posts will be of use and interest to readers, I often refer to earlier articles to remind myself how and what I learned during my ancestral investigations.
The Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel (Figures 1-2), the family establishment my family owned in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland] for about 75 years between roughly 1850 and 1925, has been the subject of multiple earlier articles. In these prior posts, I’ve discussed its location (Post 11), historically when the hotel was likely to have been built (Post 155), the family members linked to it (Post 11, Post 11, Postscript, & Post 11, Postscript 2), the layout of the building (Post 11), the police oversight of the business (Post 11, Postscript), various events hosted and dignitaries who stayed there (Post 11, Postscript), the final months of the family’s ownership of the hotel (Post 146), the various owners of the business after it left family hands (Post 11), its condition following WWII (Post 11), and its ultimate fate (Post 132).
Much of what I learned, and the associated documents and contemporary advertisements came from my dearly departed friend, Mr. Paul Newerla (Figure 3), who took a keen interest in researching the history of the hotel. Another Polish friend from Rybnik, Poland, Ms. Malgosia Ploszaj (Figure 4), was also instrumental in unearthing a historic portfolio on the Bruck’s Hotel at the Archiwum Państwowe w Katowicach Oddział w Raciborzu, The Polish State Archives in Racibórz.
Through Paul, I learned the hotel was largely intact at the end of WWII save for the bombed-out roof. (Figure 5) However, occupying Russian forces allowed it to burn to the ground after it was “accidentally” set on fire by drunken soldiers who prevented the local firefighters from extinguishing the flames. The reason the building was allowed to burn is rooted in geopolitics. Following the end of WWII, the ruling and occupying Communists expected that the border between Poland and Germany would be established along the Oder-Neisse River. Situated as the hotel was on the west bank of the Oder River, the Communists fully expected that Ratibor would remain in German hands. The Communists had no interest in turning over to the Germans anything useable or salvageable.
One telling historical document dated March 1950 Paul found in the archives and shared with me was a letter written to local authorities setting out a “quota” of 5 million bricks the town was expected to provide for Warsaw for its reconstruction. (Figure 6) The Bruck’s Hotel built constructed as it was out of bricks was an obvious and plentiful source of this material, particularly since it was expected to remain part of Germany. Sadly, the hotel which could easily and would likely have been restored was instead dismantled.
Given the reality that the hotel no longer exists, which could have been a fixture for a vibrant and historic downtown Racibórz, all that remains are scattered artifacts in my possession, specifically, some hotel silverware. As I am preparing to donate these heirlooms to the Muzeum w Racibórz in the coming months, I thought I would write a brief post about them and link them to the specific Bruck ancestors to whom I think they’re connected. Some of the markings on the silverware are monograms specific to the owners, others name the hotel. Hallmarks can be found on some pieces which are official stamps or marks that indicate the purity, manufacturer, and origin of the precious silver metal. They are too difficult to decipher, however.
My great-great-grandparents Samuel Bruck (1808-1863) (Figure 7) and his wife Charlotte Bruck, née Marle (1811-1861) (Figure 8) were the original family owners of the Prinz von Preußen. Arguably I have one piece of silverware that belonged to Samuel Bruck. It simply has the initial “S.” so may have been from his time. (Figure 9)
Silverware from the next two generation of owners are more clearly identifiable. Fedor Bruck (1834-1892) (Figure 10) and his wife Friederike Bruck, née Mockrauer (1836-1924) (Figure 11) were the second-generation owners. Silverware from this generation is marked by “Fe. Bruck’s Hôtel” (Figure 12) or “F. Bruck’s Hôtel.” (Figure 13) And, finally, my grandparents Felix (1864-1927) (Figure 14) and Else Bruck, née Berliner (1873-1957) (Figure 15) owned the hotel following Fedor Bruck’s death in 1892. Their beautiful interwoven monogram, while intricate, is clearly identifiable by the initials “EFB,” Else & Felix Bruck. (Figure 16)
Other silverware that cannot positively be connected to any specific generation is labeled simply as “Prinz von Preussen” (Figure 17), “Br. (for Bruck)” (Figure 18), or “Bankowsky Ratibor.” (Figure 19) Bankowsky, for which I can find no reference, is likely the local silversmith that produced the hotel’s silverware.
The monogram on a set of forks I’ll be donating is particularly intriguing. (Figure 20) Thinking I had possibly misread the letters in the monogram on this silverware as “SUB,” possibly for Samuel Bruck, I asked my German friend Peter Hanke, the “Wizard of Wolfsburg,” to confirm or refute my interpretation.
According to Peter, the monogram has the letters “B,” “P,” “V,” and another “P,” which obviously stands for “Bruck’s Prinz von Preussen.” Even with Peter’s explanation, I had great difficulty visualizing the letters, so he highlighted them using his grandchildren’s colored pens.
Comparing the forks side-by-side, here is what readers should look for. The monogram is written in a script font called “Kunstler Script.” On Figure 20, readers can see the letter “v” (what really looks like a large “U”) which is marked in red. Then, in red AND blue, there are two “Ps,” the left one facing backwards and the right one facing forwards. Finally, in brown the letter “B” is evident.
The monogram on a large soup spoon of the same vintage appears to read “T.B.” I know of no Bruck ancestor with these initials. (Figure 21)
Another unique coffee spoon that I initially mistook as silverware from the Bruck’s Hotel reads “O.B.,” which clearly stands for my father Otto Bruck. (Figure 22) This is the only example of this style of spoon. My father came from a secular Jewish family, so may have been christened or baptized upon birth. I surmise my father was given this silver spoon on this occasion. The tradition of gifting silver, particularly spoons, dates back as early as the Middle Ages. Initially, silver was seen as an investment in the child’s future, a financial asset to help cover costs or contribute towards significant life events. Interestingly, the phrase “born with a silver spoon in your mouth” originates from this period, referencing those born into wealthy families who could afford silvery cutlery.
In the Middle Ages, silver was believed to have protective properties against evil spirits. Its antibacterial qualities were also recognized, and it was thought that using silver utensils could reduce infections and promote better health, especially for babies.
Note: In a post I’ve long wanted to write, using maps and contemporary accounts, I discuss the history of the property where the inn stood that my family owned from ca. 1850 until 1926 in Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland], the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. I also make a case for when I think the hotel was likely constructed.
I’ve spilled a lot of ink writing about my next of kin’s business in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland], the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel (Figures 1-2), owned by three generations of my family from roughly 1850 until 1926. My recently departed friend Paul Newerla from Racibórz (Figure 3), a lawyer who found his second calling in retirement researching and writing about the history of Ratibor and Silesia, was very instrumental in furthering my understanding of the hotel’s history and generously sharing multiple historical references and illustrations related to the establishment.
Paul was never able to tell me exactly when the inn was constructed and whether a previous owner had built the structure. For the longest time, I imagined the name “Prinz von Preußen” meant it might have been erected and lived in by a member of the von Preußen family, a royal lineage with longstanding ties to Silesia. Another friend whom I’ve often mentioned to readers, Peter Albrecht von Preußen (Figure 4), a descendant of this illustrious bloodline now living in the United States, explained to me that the “Prinz von Preußen” name was franchised from at least the 19th century. Thus, the Bruck Hotel’s incorporation of the Prinz von Preußen honorific may simply reflect a business arrangement. So far evidence of this has not been found.
One document Paul was unable to track down in theArchiwum Państwowe w Katowicach Oddział w Raciborzu, the State Archives in Katowice, Branch in Racibórz, was the so-called Grundbuch, the land register, for the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. Grundbuch means the applicable official register held by the Land Registry in which, among other things, the rights of ownership in, and encumbrances on, a plot of land are registered.
In Post 61, I discussed how Paul found the Grundbuch for the Zuckerfabrik, the sugar factory owned by distant family relatives, located in Woinowitz [today: Wojnowice, Poland] outside Ratibor, among the uncatalogued documents in the basement of the Racibórz State Archives. Regular readers know I’ve written multiple posts about the Zuckerfabrik. Had Paul been able to locate the Grundbuch for the Bruck’s Hotel, it might have shed some light on when the building was built and/or exactly when my family purchased the establishment. Whether the file still exists is an unanswered question though I suspect if it did Paul Newerla would have tracked it down.
Another of my Polish friends, Małgosia Ploszaj (Figure 5), from Rybnik, Poland, 15 miles east of Racibórz, was able to find a police file in the Racibórz State Archives related to the Bruck’s Hotel (Figures 6a-b), but this dated to the period that my grandparents, Felix (1864-1927) and Else Bruck (1873-1957), owned the hotel during the first quarter of the 20th century. This file includes reports on periodic inspections conducted by the local police; safety issues my grandparents were compelled to address; authorizations they were required to obtain to operate beyond normal working hours; violations for which they were fined, etc. Nothing in the file related to the history nor tenancy of the hotel prior to my grandparents’ ownership.
My good friend Peter Albrecht von Preußen spent a good deal of time explaining the contents of this police file. Additionally, because of his own family’s connection to Silesia, he spent a lot of time searching publications for mentions of the hotel and the sequential Bruck family members who owned the inn, namely, Samuel Bruck (1808-1863), Fedor Bruck (1834-1892), and Felix Bruck (1864-1927).
One of the most useful public domain sources Peter discovered was a 695-page book entitled “Geschichte der Stadt Ratibor,” “History of the Town of Ratibor,” written by Augustin Weltzel in 1861. (Figure 7) Therein, Peter found mention of a Bruck who was a “gastwirth,” an innkeeper, no doubt Samuel Bruck (1808-1863) the original owner of the Bruck’s Hotel. (Figure 8)
The book is written in Fraktur, which was the subject of Post 154. Unfortunately, the text has not been transcribed into German, nor has it been translated into Polish or English. However, because Peter can read Fraktur, he graciously perused and summarized relevant sections of Weltzel’s book.
This book was commissioned in 1859 by the Protestant Church in Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland], who had searched in the archives and discovered that the history of the entire Upper Silesian region, a principally Catholic area at the time, had not been documented. As a result, Dr. Weltzel, a Catholic Priest, was contracted to write about Ratibor. This seemingly odd arrangement was an indirect outcome of the First Silesian War from 1740 to 1742 which resulted in Prussia seizing most of the region of Silesia (today mostly in southwestern Poland) from Austria but Catholics in Silesia being guaranteed the right to continue practicing their religion.
Based on Peter’s synopsis and analysis, I can reconstruct a partial history of the property where the Bruck’s Hotel was built and theorize when the hotel is likely to have been constructed. Another of my Polish contacts from Racibórz is Magda Wawoczny, an acquaintance in the Jewish Studies program at Jagiellonian University in Krakow, Poland. At my request, she graciously sent me high-resolution plans of Ratibor from 1831 and 1843, as well as a map from 1812 with a birds-eye view of Ratibor and its fortifications, that allow me to clarify using contemporary maps what likely was going on in the area at the time in conjunction with Augustin Weltzel’s description of historic events.
First, a brief digression. I’ve periodically told readers about my “boots on the ground” without whom I would be unable to relate my family stories to the depth I feel is required. As readers can easily tell, I have limited knowledge about many of the subjects I discuss so the assistance of knowledgeable people is crucial. In the case of this post, for example, I felt the need to illustrate with historic maps what Ratibor may have looked like at different points in time to make the case for approximately when the Bruck’s Hotel might have been constructed.
Erroneously recalling there exists a map from 1829 with the Bruck’s Hotel shown, I asked Magda, my student acquaintance from Racibórz, if she could track it down for me. In the process, Magda directed me to a historical portal run by her father, Grzegorz Wawoczny, a historian. The portal includes a post written by a German gentleman, Christoph Sottor, describing the oldest plans of the city of Ratibor. This is how I learned about the 1812, 1831, and 1843 plans of Ratibor mentioned above. This post was very useful and one I encourage readers with an ancestral link to Ratibor to skim:
Historically, Ratibor was a fortified castle-town. The period the Bruck’s Hotel could conceivably have been built is closely related to when the fortifications surrounding Ratibor were dismantled because of the hotel’s proximity to where the protective walls once stood. Let me briefly relate to readers some of the history of the town’s defensive system. The defensive walls have existed in Ratibor since 1299. They were extended in the 14th century, and several fortified towers and three wooden gates were later added. A deep moat was constructed in front of the walls. The curtain walls were reinforced in 1663 in anticipation of a Turkish invasion.
Beginning in the 18th century, the fortifications were gradually eliminated. Between 1764 and 1771 the moat was filled in. According to Weltzel, the wooden gate (Figure 22) of the defensive tower nearest where the Bruck’s Hotel was eventually built was removed in 1825 and relocated to the Ratibor side of the bridge crossing the nearby Oder River; some of the nearby curtain walls were removed but the tower remained.
All that remains of the fortifications today is a Renaissance style tower constructed in 1574 and some remnants of the Gothic curtain walls that abutted this tower. (Figures 9-10) At the apex of the tower, there is an attic with embrasures (sometimes called gun holes) and four turrets. The building provided shelter for the garrison of defenders and was also used as a prison tower.
The removal of the moat, including the gradual elimination of some of the defensive structures, coincides with the end of the Seven Years’ War (1756-1763). Let me say a few words about this conflict.
The Seven Years’ War (1756–1763) was a global conflict involving most of Europe’s great powers that was fought primarily in Europe, the Americas, and Asia-Pacific. Without getting too far into the weeds, suffice it to say the opposing alliances were led by Great Britain and France, each seeking to establish global pre-eminence at the expense of the other. France and Spain fought against England and their ally Prussia in Europe and overseas. Long-standing rivalries pitted these adversaries against one another in North America and the West Indies.
No less a personage than Winston Churchill described the Seven Years War, which went by different names in its respective theaters (e.g., Franch and Indian Wars (1754-1763); War of the Conquest in French-speaking Canada; the Third Silesian Wear (1756-1763) between Prussia and Austria) as the first “world war” because of its global reach.
For purposes of this post, suffice it to say that in Europe, Prussia sought greater influence in the German states (i.e., Prussia and the other German states did not unite to form Germany until 1871) while Austria sought to contain Prussian influence as well as regain Silesia which they’d lost at the end of the First Silesian War in 1742. Austria failed in this regard. Based on Augustin Weltzel’s discussions, it is evident the city’s fortifications suffered heavy damage from cannonball strikes during the conflict.
Perhaps, the end of the war, new economic opportunities, ongoing deterioration of the defensive walls and towers, along with a need to expand the city caused town officials to gradually remove the fortifications and towers.
The address of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel was Oderstrasse 16. The inn stood on the northwest corner of Oderstrasse where it met Bollwerk Strasse. A 1929 street map of Ratibor includes the hotel’s name and location (Figure 11), while a 1933 plan shows the number “16” on Oderstrasse. (Figure 12) A map from around 1890 indistinctly outlines an area where the Bruck’s Hotel stood that is identified by the number “104,” which may indicate the lot number. (Figure 13) Since I don’t have copies of all Ratibor’s plans, it’s not clear when the hotel was first plotted on a map.
The “Prinz von Preußen” is listed in John Murray’s 1850 “Hand-Book for Travellers on the Continent” as a place for people to stay in Ratibor while voyaging between Breslau and Vienna. (Figures 14a-b) Family ownership of the inn is thought to have begun at around this time.
Next, I’ll discuss a few of the historic maps I had access to, and what they suggest regarding the construction of the Bruck’s Hotel. I’ll also touch on some of Weltzel’s historic accounts for reference.
Let me start by discussing the map that Christoph Sottor dates to 1812 (Figure 15) that I previously described as a birds-eye view of the city with its still-standing fortifications.
“On the newly made plan (in 1812 on the basis of measurements from 1810) the orientation to the west was improved, buildings in towns near Racibórz were described and projections of several buildings in Racibórz itself were marked. The “Situations-Plan von der Stadt Ratibor” covers a smaller area than the 1811 plan and is on a smaller scale, 1 : 7,200. The plan measures 48 cm x 32.3 cm. It was also created by the geometer Andre Wihrheim. The only copy of the plan is in AP Opole, reference number: AP Opole, Rej. Opole. Kart., sign. IX/92. I only have a blurry picture of him.” [EDITOR’S NOTE: “AP Opole” stands for “Archiwum Państwowe Opole,” the State Archives in Opole, Poland]
The main conclusion one can draw from this map is that the defensive towers and curtain walls were mostly still intact in 1812. This means the Bruck’s Hotel, whose approximate location I’ve shown on the map, could not yet have existed at this time since the curtain walls would have impeded its construction.
According to Weltzel, the Bruck’s Hotel was referred to as the “Prinzen von Preußen” (“Princes of Prussia”) rather than “Prinz von Preußen” (“Prince of Prussia”), with no mention of the Bruck surname. He also tells us the property where the hotel was eventually built had previously been owned by the so-called Schützengilde, the shooting club, and sat along Oder Gasse, as Oderstrasse was then known. The Schützengilde had two structures on their property, a Schützenzwinger, or clubhouse, and a Schießstand, or firing range. The clubhouse faced Oder Gasse, while the firing range sat towards the rear of the property closer to the Oder River.
At the time Weltzel was researching his book he had access to the shooting club’s records dating back to 1620. According to these documents the Schützengilde owned the property on Oder Gasse until 1824/25 when they sold it to the city of Ratibor in two transactions; by May 1825 the city had full possession of the entire property. Using the proceeds from the sale of the property, the shooting club purchased another property in town. Seemingly, Weltzel does not discuss how the city used the property following its acquisition.
Peter Albrecht von Preußen uncovered a YouTube video describing the activities of the Schützengilde today featuring none other than my late friend Paul Newerla. While the video is in both German and Polish with subtitles in both these languages, readers can get a general idea of how the shooting club operates today and view some of the antique weapons members fire:
In essence, Paul Newerla says that today the Schützengilde is principally a historical society and functions as a recreational club rather than as a defensive force as it once did. As previously mentioned, the club relocated from Oder Gasse in 1825, but moved again in 1898 to their present location. The existing clubhouse incorporates a tower (Figure 16) that may be a remembrance of the Oder Thor that once stood adjacent to their property on Oder Gasse. According to Paul, the oldest documents the club possesses date to 1925, so he is appealing to anyone that may have older artifacts or memorabilia to contact the club. And finally, we learn the Schützengilde was inoperative from the 8th of May 1945 until 2004, when it was resurrected.
Let me turn now to the two high resolution maps from 1831 and 1843 that Magda sent me and discuss what inferences can be drawn from them. Both plans show two buildings on the property, the 1843 map more distinctly, where the Bruck’s Hotel would eventually be built. On the 1831 map (Figure 17), in the rear structure, that’s to say the shooting range, readers can vaguely make out what Weltzel refers to as a “wall extension” that paralleled the lane where Bollwerk Strasse was ultimately sited. It would appear the firing range incorporated as an extension a fragmentary part of the curtain walls that once surrounded Ratibor.
One thing we can conclude from the 1843 map (Figure 18) is that the Oder Thor, Oder Tower, the tower closest to where the hotel was ultimately built had apparently not yet been demolished, though as previously mentioned the wooden gate had been removed in 1825. The tower is labelled on the map suggesting it was still in place. It’s difficult to know precisely where the Oder Thor was situated relative to the hotel making it hard to know whether it would have impeded construction of the building; however, the defensive curtain walls would assuredly have prevented construction of the inn.
Another thing we can observe from the 1843 ocular map of Ratibor is that if you extend the line that was formerly part of the curtain wall and the extension of the Schießstand, it lines up perfectly with the side of the Oder Thor that was closest to the Oder River.
So, we return to the question of when the Bruck’s Hotel might have been built and what the impetus for doing so would have been. A French travel guide dated 1836 entitled “Manuel du Voyageur en Allemagne” (Handbook for Travelers in Germany), mentions an auberge or inn in Ratibor, “Auberge de Jaeschke.” (Figure 19) Prior to construction of the Bruck’s Hotel this is believed to have been the only guesthouse in Ratibor.
As previously discussed, the “Prinz von Preußen” is mentioned in John Murray’s 1850 publication “A Hand-Book for Travellers on the Continent,” and is described as a “very comfortable hotel.” (see Figure 14b) Clearly, by 1850 the “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel was open for business. This is further confirmed by a concert the famed Austrian composer Johann Strauss delivered on the 17th of October 1850 in the hotel’s concert hall. (Figure 20) A similar recital by Dr. Franz Lizst four years earlier on the 29th of May 1846 was performed at the so-called “Jaschke’schen Saale” (Figure 21), presumably part of the “Auberge de Jaeschke,” indirect evidence the newer and larger Prinz von Preußen concert hall was not yet open.
According to Weltzel, the anticipated arrival of the railroad in Ratibor, which began service on the 1st of January 1846, caused a “building boom” between 1842 and 1850. If the 1843 map is accurate, the Oder Thor still stood at this time, so construction of the hotel post-dates its removal. While there is no smoking gun, the indirect evidence points to the Prinz von Preußen having been built sometime between 1845 and 1847, coinciding with the arrival of the railroad. No doubt regular train service and mention of the Prinz von Preußen in an English travel guide would have accelerated the number of visitors and tourists from Germany, Austria, and far-off places who would have expected modern conveniences. It can only be hoped the hotel’s Grundbuch still exists and is eventually found to definitively answer the question of what year the inn was built.
Knie, Johann G. (1845). Alphabetisch-statistisch-topographische Uebersicht der Dörfer, Flecken, Städte und andern Orte der Königl. Preuß. Provinz Schlesien.
Note: In this post, I shift from discussing primary source documents related to my great-great-grandfather Samuel Bruck (1808-1863), thought to have been the original owner of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel in Ratibor, Prussia, to talking about my grandfather Felix Bruck (1864-1927), assuredly the last Bruck family owner of the hotel. I examine some records that shed light on the final months of my family’s connection to the establishment.
The inspiration for several recent posts comes from interested readers, ancestral researchers, family, and friends and acquaintances. These people have either sent me contemporary accounts or made me aware of primary source documents in various Polish State Archives related to some of my earliest Bruck relatives from Silesia. (Figure 1) These records, though not infallible, provide a framework for evaluating and assessing the accuracy of vital data obtained elsewhere, as well as placing my ancestors in their proper historic and cultural context. As mentioned elsewhere, primary source documents are my gold standard.
In May of this year, I was contacted by a gentleman, Mr. Kamil Kotas, formerly from the Powiat Raciborski, Racibórz District of Poland, now living in Münster in the German state of North Rhine-Westphalia. Having stumbled on my blog and seen the various posts about the former family-owned hotel in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland], the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, Kamil told me he’d come across two files citing the Bruck’s Hotel from the interwar years during his online search of the Polish State Archives. (Figures 2-3) He realized my bibliography made no mention of either, so sent me links to the two files:
Having nothing specifically to do with my family, what immediately caught my attention when I opened the links is that the files are archived at the Archiwum Państwowe we Wrocławiu Oddział w Kamieńcu Ząbkowickim, State Archives in Wrocław Branch in Kamieniec Ząbkowicki. Regular readers may recall that Kamieniec Ząbkowicki, Poland is the current name of the German Silesian town of Kamenz where my dear friend Peter Albrecht von Preußen’s family once owned the still-standing castle. I wrote about the castle in Post 135. Kamieniec Ząbkowicki and Racibórz are about 79 miles apart. (Figure 4) In any case, this puts an exclamation point on something I’ve repeatedly stressed, namely, that you should not confine your search for information about your ancestors to the town where they once lived.
Because the online tags for the two files on the Bruck’s Hotel give no clue as to what they contain, I ordered both. After several weeks they arrived, and I turned to my friend Peter Hanke to help me make sense of the file from 1926. While the “Bruck’s Hotel” name was retained by future owners after it was sold by my grandfather Felix Bruck (Figure 5), I knew he had sold it before his death in June 1927. (Figure 6) Consequently, I’ve confined my examination to the earlier of the two files.
The hotel “Prinz von Preußen” is owned by the hotel owner Felix Bruck and was managed alternately by the owner and tenants. Currently, the actual tenant of the hotel is the Peace Lodge e.V. in Ratibor, which handed over the management to Hugo Eulenstein in July 1926. Eulenstein, born in Hammestädt [= Hammerstedt] in Th[uringia] in 1869, moved from Barmen [now a district of Wuppertal] and formerly managed the Grand Hotel on Lake Geneva, then was reportedly general manager of both the Caux and Montreux hotels and then owner of the Continental Hotel in Montreux, which he lost because of the war. He is also said to have been a director at the Carlton Hotel in Frankfurt a.M. and the Bayerischer Hof in Munich.
Eulenstein is the concession holder and reportedly pays an annual rent of 12000 Reichsmark. The hotel was rebuilt and renovated in 1925. The staff consists of 1 chef de cuisine, 4 to 5 waiters, 1 valet and 5 to 6 girls for the kitchen and guest rooms. The value of the existing stock is estimated at about 5000 to 6000 Reichsmark.
The financial situation is not considered unfavorable, but in the opinion of our informants the development of the circumstances remains to be seen, especially since the former tenant Max Künzer managed the hotel without success. At present, a small loan is considered permissible and at the same time it is recommended that a certain degree of caution not be disregarded.
In the letter, the credit agency W. Schimmelpfeng asks the Friedensloge e.V. in Ratibor whether it “. . .would provide information about the personal and financial circumstances of Mr. Eulenstein.”
In a reply letter from my grandfather Felix Bruck dated the 22nd of November 1926 from Berlin he writes: “Mr. Eulenstein is not my tenant but that of the Friedensloge e.V. in Ratibor, to whom I have leased my hotel for several years. I do not know Mr. Eulenstein personally, nor am I aware of his circumstances. The Friedensloge should be able to give you the most information.”
In a letter dated the 12th of November 1926, the following is written:
“Bruck’s Hotel is one of the oldest hotels in Ratibor. Since June 26, 1900, the hotel has been registered in the Commercial Register A under the name “Fedor Bruck Hotel Prinz von Preussen Ratibor” under No. 24. Over the years, the hotel was managed alternately by the owner (Bruck) and by tenants. The last tenant was Max Künzer. He went bankrupt on June 23, 1926. I have reported about it to you under 25 June 1926. Due to the lack of any bankruptcy estate, the bankruptcy proceedings were discontinued after some time. At present the actual tenant of this hotel is the Jewish Lodge in Ratibor. They pay an annual rent of 11000 Reichsmark to the owner Bruck. However, the Lodge leased the hotel to the hotelier Hugo Eulenstein and he has been running it since July 13, 1926. He has a good reputation as a professional. He managed the Grand Hotel on Lake Geneva, was general manager of the two hotels Caux above Montreux and then owner of the Hotel Continental in Montreux (Figure 8), which he lost because of the war. He is also said to have been director of Carlton Hotel in Frankfurt a.M. and of the Bayerischer Hof in Munich. In the innkeeper circles it is strange that Eulenstein comes to Ratibor after such a brilliant career.
Eulenstein was born on December 15, 1869 in Hammestädt [= Hammerstedt] in Th[uringia], married to Hertha née Voth from Cologne since August 7, 1919, and in Ratibor since August 7, 1926. He came from Barmen [now a district of Wuppertal]. He has one child aged 6 years. His deceased father was a landowner. No disadvantageous things have become known about him so far.
He is a concession holder, and the business is in his name. He is not yet registered under commercial law. The annual rent is reduced and is said to be 12,000 Reichsmark. Eulenstein claims to have invested a working capital of 15000 Reichsmark in the business. The hotel was rebuilt and renovated last year. It meets all the requirements of modern times. The staff consists of 1 chef de cuisine, 4-5 waiters, 1 valet and 5-6 girls for the kitchen and guest rooms. According to experience so far, it will have an annual turnover of about 160000 Reichsmark. His warehouse will have a value of 5000-6000 Reichsmark. House and land ownership is not available. His financial situation is still little known in Ratibor but is generally considered favorable. Complaints about his mode of payment have not yet become known. A loan of a few hundred Reichsmark does not seem questionable at present. Nevertheless, caution would be advisable. Without obligation.”
EDITOR’S REMARKS:
The letter is signed and dated the 14th of November 1926, perhaps by an officer of the credit agency who received the letter. Initially, I thought the letter was written by my grandfather, but I now think it was written by a representative from the tenant organization, the Friedensloge e.V.
This is the most informative of the documents contained in the file, providing the date when the Firm of “Fedor Bruck Hotel Prinz von Preussen Ratibor” was registered in the Handelsregister on the 26th of June 1900.
These pages confirm the Friedensloge e.V. was my grandfather’s tenant after Max Künzer went bankrupt and the Peace Lodge subleased the hotel to the experienced hotelier Hugo Eulenstein. Some vital statistics about Hugo and his family are also provided.
My historian friend from Racibórz sent me a series of undated Bruck’s Hotel advertisements from the time my grandfather owned the hotel to the period post-dating his ownership. (Figures 9a-b) One indicates that Max Künzer was the “inh. =inhaber,” owner, when it’s known that he was merely a tenant who went bankrupt. Another undated advertisement shows Hugo Eulenstein as the owner.
November 12, 1926: Felix Bruck, owner; Max Künzer, former tenant, bankrupt
November 18, 1926: Felix Bruck, Ratibor, “knows nothing”
November 25, 1926: Friedensloge e.V. Ratibor
May 21, 1927: Bruck’s Hotel Prinz von Preußen Hugo Eulenstein as the current owner
EDITOR’S REMARKS:
From Pages 4-5, we know that the tenant Max Künzer filed for bankruptcy on the 23rd of June 1926. It appears the Friedensloge e.V. Ratibor subsequently leased the hotel from my grandfather, and in turn subleased it to the hotelier Hugo Eulenstein. No later than the 21st of May of 1927, Hugo had purchased the hotel from my grandfather, who died on the 23rd of June 1927 in Berlin.
As previously mentioned, the above 1926 file discussing my family’s hotel establishment in Ratibor interestingly originates from the State Archives in Wrocław Branch in Kamieniec Ząbkowicki.
Coincidentally, I have another relevant primary source document embedded in a file archived at the Branch State Archives in Katowice, Racibórz, copied for me by Ms. Magda Wawoczny, the Polish student acquaintance from Jagiellonian University. The information on this one page (Figure 10) coincides with the period when my grandfather’s tenant, Max Künzer, went bankrupt. Translated, the text reads:
(no. 37): On August 14, 1926, the Ratibor District Court determined that a debt of 600 Reichsmark exists for inventory taken over.
The creditor is Felix Bruck from Berlin (district W15), Düsseldorferstrasse 24I, who had registered this amount on July 14, 1926.
Given the timing of Max Künzer’s bankruptcy, I surmise the following may have happened. When Mr. Künzer leased the Bruck’s Hotel, which also gave him access to the restaurant and bar, my grandfather likely additionally transferred the inventory to Max. This would have included food pantry items for the kitchen, liquor for the bar, pots, pans, glasses, silverware, china, linen, cleaning supplies, etc., in other words any items required for the daily operation of the hotel. When Mr. Künzer went bankrupt, the bankruptcy court likely seized any remaining inventory, and sold them to repay creditors While the court determined my grandfather was owed 600 Reichsmark, it’s unclear from the register entry that any monies were ever disbursed to him as a creditor, likely one of many.
The documents discussed above relate to the final months of my grandfather’s ownership of the family hotel in Ratibor, from mid-to-late 1926. However, several years ago, another of my Polish acquaintances, Małgosia Płoszaj from Rybnik, Poland, copied and sent me an additional file related to the Bruck’s Hotel that is also archived at Branch State Archives in Katowice, Racibórz. I recently had my friend Peter Albrecht summarize the contents of this “Polizei Verwallung zu Ratibor,” Ratibor police station file. (Figure 11a-b)
This police folder includes a collection of the Prinz von Preußen’s hotel and liquor licenses, violations to the stipulations of these permits, and compliance with fire safety and electrical requirements of the Prussian State. The records date from June 1912 until August 1928. The file documents the Ratibor Police Department’s enforcement of the 1808 Kingdom of Prussia’s liquor licensing requirements, including liquor production, wholesaling, and retail sales at the establishment. Over time, fire safety plans, related for example to gas lighting, also had to be submitted, as well as plans for addressing electrical requirements.
In conjunction with a new or renewed application for a liquor license and business permit, building drawings had to be submitted. The permit was granted on the 11th of June 1912 by the City Council (Der Stadtausschuss) following submission of the building drawings on the 20th of May 1912 and inspection by the city’s inspector. Several changes were requested by the inspector including that the curtains be impregnated with fire-retardant and that the locks between the ballroom (Saal) and the side room (Gesellschaftsraum) be removed since only the side room had an exit door to the outside of the building.
Many of the pages in the file involve applications by groups who wanted to hold an event in the ballroom and were requesting an extension of the curfew or “last call,” or the so-called “Sperrstunde,” beyond the normal 10pm hour.
My grandfather was only fined once for a violation, for the minor infraction of a patron not signing the guest book upon their departure.
In closing, I will concede that much of the information found in primary source documents mentioning my grandfather and the Bruck’s Hotel is rather mundane in nature, but I would again stress to ancestral researchers that the mere survival of similar records between 100 and 200 years of age help paint a portrait of a past very much different than the one we live in. And, often, buried within these documents are tidbits of chronological and contextual information that round out one’s understanding of our ancestors’ lives.
REFERENCE
Hyckel, Georg. Ein Führer durch die Stadt Ratibor und ihre Geschichte. Ratibor, ca. 1930.
Note: In this post, I discuss the sad fate of Charlotte Bruck, my great-grandfather Fedor Bruck’s niece, a victim in this case not of the Holocaust but of a psychiatric disorder.
My great-grandfather, Fedor Bruck (1834-1892), was one of at least nine offspring of Samuel Bruck (1808-1863) (Figure 1) and Charlotte Bruck née Marle (1809-1861). (Figure 2) For context, Samuel Bruck and Fedor Bruck (Figure 3) were, respectively the first- and second-generation owners of the Bruck family hotel in Ratibor, Germany [today: Racibórz, Poland], the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel. (Figure 4) The youngest of Samuel and Charlotte Bruck’s children and Fedor Bruck’s youngest sibling was Wilhelm Bruck (1849-1907). (Figure 5)
Wilhelm married a baroness named Margarete “Grete” Mathilde von Koschembahr (Figure 6), and because of the prestige the von Koschembahr name endowed, he adopted her surname, initially in hyphenated manner as Bruck-von Koschembahr; eventually upon some family members arrival in America the Bruck surname was dropped. Wilhelm Bruck and Margarete von Koschembahr had five children, including Charlotte “Lotte” Bruck (Figure 7), niece of my great-grandfather Fedor Bruck and subject of this post.
As a brief aside, Charlotte’s older brother and the oldest of Wilhelm and Margarete’s children was Gerhard Bruck von Koschembahr (1885-1961) (Figure 8), who emigrated to America in October 1938 with his wife and ten of their thirteen children (Figure 9), one of whom is still living. While I am in contact with descendants of virtually all other branches of my family whom I have written about in my family history blog, I have not yet established contact with this wing of my extended family. If precedent is any indication, descendants of the von Koschembahrs may in time stumble upon my blog and contact me.
With upwards of 900 people in my family tree, which I use primarily to orient myself to the people whom I discuss in my Blog, I have never previously written about Wilhelm Bruck (von Koschembahr). Still, because Charlotte Bruck is in my tree, one genealogist stumbled upon her name and contacted me asking whether I know the fate of Charlotte’s first husband, Walter Edward Stavenhagen. The inquiry, it so happens, came from Charlotte’s granddaughter, Brenda Jay Dunn née Lorenzen (Figure 10), and I explained I have been unable to discover Walter’s fate. Not unexpectedly, Jay told me much more about Charlotte’s family than I could tell her and provided family photographs, which is always immensely satisfying.
Prior to being contacted by Jay Dunn through ancestry on June 24, 2018, I had already uncovered multiple documents related to Charlotte Bruck, although my understanding of her three marriages and life was rather disjointed. Rather than try and inaccurately reconstruct what I already knew at the time, let me briefly highlight major events in her life.
Charlotte (Lottchen, Lotte, Lottel) Bruck got married for the first time on the 3rd of May 1906 in Berlin to the Protestant landowner Walter Edward Stavenhagen (Figures 11a-b) who owned an estate in Eichwerder in the district of Soldin, Germany [today: Myślibórz, Poland]. Though both of Charlotte’s parents were of Jewish descent, on her wedding certificate, Charlotte is identified as Protestant, indicating she and/or her parents had converted. Following her marriage to Walter at age 19, they moved to Soldin, and Charlotte gave birth to two sons there: Frederick Wilhelm Stavenhagen (1907-1997) and Hans Joachim Stavenhagen (1909-1947). (Figures 12-13a-b)
Charlotte first became ill following the birth of her second son, possibly the result of postpartum depression or a bi-polar disorder. Charlotte’s mother, Margarethe von Koschembahr Bruck (Figure 14), came and removed her from Walter Stavenhagen’s estate in 1909, whereupon she was briefly hospitalized in Schierke, located in the Harz Mountains of northern Germany. In a diary entry dated the 19th of November 1909, Charlotte’s maternal grandmother, Amalie Mockrauer von Koschembahr (1834-1918) (Figures 15-16), describes her granddaughter’s circumstances at the time:
“Ich bin furchtbar traurig über das Fehlschlagen von Lottchens Friedensversuch. Nachdem sie in Eichwerder (nördlich Mysliborz) mit den besten Vorsätzen und mit festem Muthe eintraf, sich in ihr Schicksal und ihre Pflichten zu fügen, benahm sich Walter abermals unglaublich lieblos, rücksichtslos und roh, so, daß es nach kurzer Zeit für Lotte unmöglich war Stand zu halten. Soweit mir berichtet wurde, ist alles geschehen, um es dem Mann leicht zu machen in Frieden zu leben, allein es war vergeblich. Krank und gebrochen mußte meine arme Lottel ihre Heimath für immer verlassen, nur begleitet von ihrem kleinen Fritzchen, den armen kleinen Hans gab der Mann nicht heraus. Mein armes Gretchen holte ihr Kind, Marianne und Kurt, die von großer Liebe und Treue sind, begleiteten sie. Lotte flüchtete nach Schierke (Ort im Harz), wohin ihr Gretchen nachfolgen mußte, da Lotte sehr krank ist. Welcher Schmerz ist es doch schon wegen der kleinen mutterbedürftigen Kinder! Welche große Sünde hat der bösartige Mann auf sich geladen! Mein lieber allmächtiger Gott hilf uns in dieser Noth!
Das alles muß ich so still für mich mittragen, denn mit Tilla kann ich mich nicht aussprechen – sie hat eine andere Anschauung vom Unglück der Menschen – sie kann froh darüber sein, während ich zwar ergeben aus Gottes Hand alles nehme, aber tief traurig an meine unglücklichen Kinder denke. Seitdem Martha von Schmidt der Tod von uns genommen hat, habe ich Niemanden, mit dem ich ein tröstliches Wort austauschen kann. Ach, wieviel Schwaches giebt es auf der Welt – der Kampf hört hier nicht auf und so sehnt man sich nach der ewigen Reise. –Mit Tilchen kann ich mich darüber deshalb nicht verstehen, weil sie glaubt das Unglück, welches der Herr schickt, soll die Menschen bessern und seine Gnade und Liebe erkennen lassen.”
ENGLISH TRANSLATION
“I am terribly saddened by the failure of Lottchen’s attempt at peace. After she arrived in Eichwerder (today north of Myślibórz, Poland) with the best of intentions and with firm courage to submit to her fate and duties, Walter again behaved in an unbelievably unloving, inconsiderate, and crude manner, so that after a short time it was impossible for Lotte to stand firm. As far as I was told, everything was done to make it easy for the man to live in peace, but it was in vain. Sick and broken, my poor Lottel had to leave her home forever, accompanied only by her little Fritzchen (Note: Charlotte’s older son Frederick); poor little Hans was not released by the man. My poor Gretchen (Note: Charlotte’s mother, Margarethe von Koschembahr) fetched her child, and Marianne and Kurt (Note: Charlotte’s younger sister and brother-in-law, Marianne & Kurt Polborn), who are of great love and loyalty, accompanied her. Lotte fled to Schierke (a place in the Harz Mountains in northern Germany), where Gretchen had to follow her, since Lotte was very ill. What a pain it is already because of the little children in need of a mother! What a great sin the wicked man has brought upon himself! My dear Almighty God help us in this distress!
I have to bear all this so quietly for myself, because I cannot talk to Tilla (Note: Tilla, Tilchen, was Margarethe von Koschembahr’s sister, Mathilde von Koschembahr) – she has a different view of people’s misfortune – she can be happy about it, while I humbly take everything from God’s hand, but think deeply sad about my unhappy children. Since death took Martha von Schmidt (Note: a friend of Amalie von Koschembahr, Charlotte’s grandmother) from us, I have no one with whom I can exchange a comforting word. Oh, how much weakness there is in the world – the struggle does not end here and so one longs for the eternal journey. I can’t get along with Tilchen because she believes that the misfortune the Lord sends should make people better and recognize His grace and love.”
Walter and Charlotte’s marriage certificate has a notation in the upper right-hand corner confirming they were divorced in Berlin on the 19th of May 1910. (Figure 17) Atypical of the time, Charlotte was granted custody of both of her boys because spousal abuse was suspected, as the diary entry above suggests.
According to family history, following her hospitalization in the Harz Mountains, Charlotte lived with her mother in Dresden, Germany until she remarried Karl Eduard Michaelis in 1913, a marriage which lasted only two years. At around this time, Charlotte again showed signs of mental illness, so her family sent her to America in 1915, to a hospital located in Minnesota; her two sons accompanied her to America. Her stay there was relatively brief because she soon moved to New Haven, Connecticut, where she met her third husband, Ernest Gustav Lorenzen (1876-1951), through the German Society there, whom she married around 1916. Ernest Lorenzen was a law professor at Yale University; he would eventually adopt both of Charlotte’s sons by Walter Stavenhagen, and they would take the Lorenzen surname. The 1920 U.S. Federal Census indicates Ernest and Charlotte living with her two sons in New Haven, Connecticut, (Figures 18-19) although by 1930, only Ernest and Charlotte’s older son Frederick lived together. (Figure 20) By 1940, Frederick was married with two daughters and his younger brother was living with them. (Figure 21)
Jay Dunn shared a remarkable letter with me dated 1940 written by the Superintendent of the Fairfield State Hospital in Connecticut where Charlotte Lorenzen née Bruck was permanently institutionalized as of around April 1939 until her death in June 1974. To me, this letter is noteworthy for two reasons. One, it is incredibly detailed as to Charlotte’s mental condition and institutionalization over the years, information I would assume would be confidential. And two, the letter was written at the request of Charlotte’s younger son, Hans Joachim Lorenzen, known in America as John Jay Lorenzen; it seems that John’s future father-in-law, William Sweet, sought a medical opinion as to the possibility of Charlotte’s mental condition being hereditary prior to his daughter Brenda’s marriage to John.
According to the 1940 letter, following Charlotte’s treatment in Minnesota and her relocation to New Haven, she appears to have been well until around 1921, then suffered another relapse from which she again improved by 1922; after 1925, however, she was institutionalized through the remainder of her life. While originally diagnosed with Manic Depressive Psychosis by 1928 she had become delusional. Over time, Charlotte’s original diagnosis was altered to Dementia Praecox, Paranoid Type, whose prognosis was not as good. Today, Dementia Praecox would more generally be referred to as schizophrenia. The Superintendent from the Fairfield State Hospital concluded as follows in his response to John Jay Lorenzen:
“Summing it up then in another manner I might say that if you consider yourself a normal individual in good physical health with no emotional problems which cannot be readily solved, I would not hesitate to contemplate marriage and would not entertain any undue fears that my children might inherit the illness of my parent. Unless one can definitely assure oneself that his heredity is too heavily tainted, I think one would do himself an injustice if he did not make every reasonable effort to live the kind of normal life to which everyone of us is certainly entitled.”
Ernst Lorenzen divorced Charlotte sometime after she was permanently institutionalized, and eventually got remarried. Charlotte’s older son Frederick (Figure 22-23) became a successful lawyer in New York and paid for his mother’s care throughout her life. Jay Dunn’s father, John Jay Lorenzen (Figure 24), obtained an MBA from Harvard around 1933, worked for a time as a stock broker for Smith Barney, then started a cola company called Zimba Kola (Figures 25-26) with a college friend. He was drafted in 1943, became an officer in the Navy (Figure 27), and was sent to the Pacific where he fought valiantly alongside General MacArthur in the battles of Okinawa and Leyte Gulf. He survived the war, only to commit suicide in 1947, likely from depression caused by PTSD, post-traumatic stress disorder. Though Charlotte Bruck and her sons came to America well before Hitler rose to power, her fate and that of her younger son were indeed sad tales.
One final fascinating anecdote. Gerhard Bruck von Koschembahr, Charlotte’s oldest brother mentioned above, like his father, also married a baroness, Hilda Alexandra von Zeidlitz and Neukirch (1891-1954). (Figures 28-29) Hilda’s mother, Cornelia Carnochan Roosevelt, married on the 3rd of February 1889 to Baron Clement Zeidlitz, was a distant relative of President Theodore Roosevelt. (see Figure 9) It is likely that Gerhard Bruck von Koschembahr was able to “disguise” his Jewish ancestry by dropping the Bruck surname. Thus, because of Gerhard’s wife’s connection to the Roosevelts, they sponsored Gerhard’s entrance into America in 1938 with his family at a time when many Jewish families trying to reach America by ship were turned away. The most notorious ship turned away from landing in the United States in the lead up to WWII was the German liner St. Louis carrying 937 passengers, almost all Jewish; the ship was forced to return to Europe, and more than a quarter of the refuges died in the Holocaust.
Note: In this Blog post, I talk about some ancestral research I undertook at the request of a childhood friend from New York of almost 60 years, and some interesting findings we made along the way.
Figure 1. My and my wife’s English-speaking Polish friend, Malgosia Ploszaj, from Rybnik, Poland, 16 miles east of Racibórz
First, let me set the stage.
In 2014, my wife and I spent 13 weeks in Europe driving everywhere from Gdansk, a Polish city on the Baltic coast, all the way to Valencia and Barcelona, along Spain’s eastern coast, visiting places my father and his family had once lived. Prior to our departure, we attended a lecture in Los Angeles given by Mr. Roger Lustig, sponsored by the Los Angeles Jewish Genealogical Society, on researching Jewish families of Prussian Poland, a place where many of my Hebraic ancestors come from. Knowing we would be passing through Poland, I contacted Mr. Lustig about extant Jewish records for Ratibor [today: Racibórz, Poland], formerly part of Upper Silesia in Prussia, where my father and many of his immediate family were born. Roger took an immediate interest in helping since a branch of his own family came from there. He graciously introduced me to an English-speaking Polish lady, Ms. Malgosia Ploszaj (Figure 1), from nearby Rybnik, Poland [formerly: Rybnick, Germany], who is actively involved in researching what she calls “her Rybnik Jews” and who was enormously helpful when we met. In Blog Post 12, I discussed how Malgosia helped me navigate the civil records at the “State Archives in Katowice Branch in Racibórz.” (Figure 2) Archived here, we discovered an administrative file of historic police documents from the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel (Figure 3), a family-owned establishment through three generations (see Blog Post 11), as well as vital records for family members.
Figure 2. Entrance to “Archiwum Państwowe W Katowicach Oddzial W Raciborzu,” the State Archives in Katowice Branch in RacibórzFigure 3. Cover of the administrative police file with historic documents dealing with the Bruck’s family “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, found at the State Archives in Racibórz
Figure 4. Entrance to the former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor, which was dismantled during Poland’s Communist Era and converted into Community Gardens
In February 2015, many months after our visit to Racibórz, Malgosia sent me a link to an hour-long BBC video done by an English journalist, Mr. Adrian Goldberg, to commemorate the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz in January 1945. In this video, Mr. Goldberg told his family story through home recordings he’d done with his now-deceased father who, like my own father, was Jewish and born in Ratibor. Adrian’s father survived because his parents were able to secure a place for him on a Kindertransport (German for “children’s transport”) to the United Kingdom, although Adrian’s grandparents were murdered in Auschwitz, same as my beloved Aunt Susanne. Malgosia provided local support to Adrian during the production of his video, which was filmed in the now-destroyed former Jewish Cemetery in Ratibor (Figure 4), subject of my Blog Post 13, a place where many of my and Adrian’s relatives were once interred.
Following the release of Adrian’s video in 2015, we had occasion to exchange a few emails to bemoan the woeful condition of the former Jewish cemetery in Ratibor, and what might be done about this. Within just the last two months, I was contacted by Adrian’s staff in connection with an article he was working on related to obtaining a German passport, which, as the son of a German refugee, he is entitled to. Adrian’s article on the calculation that went into deciding to do so, given his father’s refugee status and the negative reaction his father likely would have had were he still alive, has since appeared in print on BBC.com on December 24, 2018. Adrian makes clear his decision to apply for a German passport stems not from any political or philosophical standpoint, stressing he deeply loves England. It is more a reflection of post-Brexit realities and the greater flexibility that being an EU citizen with the right to work and travel freely across 27 countries without any visa requirements provides; that said, the idea of adopting the nationality of a country that murdered many family members was not an easy one.
Figure 5. Harold and me as children
Adrian Goldberg’s deliberations about applying for a German passport happened to coincide with a request from my childhood friend Harold from New York, whom I’ve known for almost 60 years (Figure 5), for help documenting his German roots. He has a similar goal, obtaining German passports for he and his immediate family; as the child of Jewish refugees who fled Germany in the 1930’s, like Adrian, my friend is entitled to a German passport. My friend’s interest in securing dual nationality is different than Adrian’s, however. It has little to do with wanting to become an EU member but relates to the increasingly divisive political environment in our country. My friend wants the option of legally moving himself and his family to Germany should the political landscape in America continue to deteriorate and becomes far worse than that in Germany, and not find himself in the same circumstances as many German Jews did in the 1930’s, unable to find a safe port. Contemplating returning to a country that perpetrated the Holocaust and killed some of Harold’s ancestors is an irony not lost on either of us.
Documenting my friend’s German lineage was a straight-forward task. However, as ancestral searches are often wont to do, it morphed into searching for my friend’s family who may have wound up in the United States or South America after they left Germany, as well as a hunt for older ancestors who were born and died in Prussia. I’m happy to report that the forensic genealogical work has now been taken over in exceptional fashion by my friend’s daughter.
Briefly, I want to devote the remainder of this post to talking about a few discoveries and connections my friend’s daughter and I have made, along with a mystery that remains unsolved.
My friend’s uncle Paul, his father’s brother, was born in 1900 in Wiesbaden, Hesse, Germany, lived and worked in Berlin for a time, then emigrated from Germany in 1937 or 1938, arriving in New York in October 1938; this was merely a transit point, by choice or design, and he eventually alit in South America, Chile by all accounts. My friend remembers an annual conversation that took place between his father and his uncle Paul, perhaps around one of their birthdays, but cannot otherwise recall what happened to him. From my own personal experience, I can attest to the difficulty in finding evidence of Jewish ancestors who immigrated to South America before or after WWII; as we speak, I am trying to discover the fate of one of my father’s first cousins who lived and perhaps died in Buenos Aires, Argentina around 1948, so far to no avail. As to Harold’s uncle, his daughter and I have so far hit a brick wall in determining his destiny.
As previously mentioned, Harold and I have known one another for almost 60 years. Like my father, I was an active tennis player growing up. So, in the course of discussing my friend’s family with him, we both clearly recalled one of his distant relatives who was a highly regarded tennis player when we were growing up. My friend remembered her name, Marilyn, and because she was a ranked player for a time, we had no trouble finding information on her and even getting her phone number. Several days later, I placed a “cold” call to Marilyn, left a message explaining who I was and that I was calling on behalf of my friend, who I thought might be related to her. Later that day, Harold’s tennis-playing kin returned my call, and we had an eminently delightful conversation.
While I quickly receded into the background, I learned when Marilyn had been born, but equally importantly that her mother, Gisela, is still alive and of sound mind. I passed this information along to Harold, uncertain exactly where it would lead, although excited on his behalf that he could converse with an older member of his family.
Figure 6. Photo of Gisela from her Immigration Card when she and her husband Ernest traveled to South AmericaFigure 7. Ernest’s Immigration Card photo when he traveled to South America with his wife
Prior to contacting Marilyn, I had already found Immigration Cards for both her parents, Gisela and Ernest, her father now deceased, with attached photos showing what they looked like when they traveled to South America. (Figures 6-7) I forwarded these to Harold, at which point he had an “aha!” moment. He dug out his bar mitzvah album photos and began comparing Gisela and Ernest’s immigration card pictures to them. Triumphantly, Harold discovered a picture of himself with his parents and Gisela and Ernest altogether! (Figure 8)
Figure 8. Photo from Harold’s bar mitzvah showing Gisela and Ernest on the far left
Harold eventually spoke by phone with Gisela in December 2018 and sent her pictures he thought were of her and her husband at his bar mitzvah; she confirmed the pictures were them. Gisela explained that Ernest and Harold’s father had been second cousins, and that Marilyn and Harold are therefore third cousins; it’s not clear Harold ever met his third cousin growing up in New York. Gisela and Ernest would from time to time socialize with Harold’s parents when all lived in New York but drifted apart when they became “snowbirds” in different parts of Florida. Gisela graciously provided a family tree to Harold that has allowed Harold’s daughter to broaden her ancestral investigations. What Gisela was unable to provide, however, were clues as to where Harold’s uncle Paul wound up.
Tangentially, Harold’s daughter and I have discovered no fewer than three Upper Silesian towns where members of our respective families once lived, Ratibor, Beuthen [today: Bytom, Poland], and Breslau [today: Wrocław, Poland]; there are likely many more. Given that some of these towns were modest in size, and the Jewish communities relatively small, it’s highly likely Harold’s family and my family intermarried, making us distant cousins.
In conclusion, let me remark on one thing. Regular readers know my Blog is not political. Yet, one cannot talk about Jews who were victims of National Socialism without being political and recognizing and condemning modern-day parallels. Today’s populists who demonize and discriminate against Jews and other minorities are no different than the fascists of old. It’s the canary in the coal mine when Americans of all stripes begin to consider moving elsewhere in the unlikely event that the political divisions in our country worsen. It’s imperative we speak out against falsifiers and admirers of tyrants and dictators wherever and whenever they crawl out of the woodwork.
Note: Since publication of Post 14 in October 2017, three different readers sent me information related to the M. Braun Brauerei. All three have graciously allowed me to update the original post using visuals they provided.
In the original Blog post, I included a postcard showing the M. Braun Brauerei in the early 20th Century. (Figure 1) The postcard was written on July 28, 1912 from Ratibor, by my great-grandmother Olga Berliner, née Braun, and addressed to my great-aunt Franziska Bruck in Berlin. Within the past week, my third cousin, once-removed, Larry Leyser, sent me a different postcard of the front of the same brewery. (Figure 2) While this image is rather less clear, what makes it so informative is that it names the square on which the M. Braun Brauerei was located, namely, “Neu Markt.”
Combined with an 1891 map of Ratibor (today: Racibórz, Poland) that a different reader, Mr. Paul Newerla, sent me, showing Neu Markt, I now know precisely where the M. Braun Brauerei was situated. This 1891 map even pinpoints the location of the brewery on the square, while a 1927-28 plan map of Ratibor shows the square. (Figures 3 & 4) Mr. Newerla, has written a book on Raciborz, entitled “Ratibor einst und jetzt,” translated roughly as “Ratibor, then and now.” (Figure 5). In addition to the map from 1891, Paul also sent me a treasure trove of information on the Bruck family hotel in Ratibor, the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, which will be the subject of an upcoming postscript.
A different Polish gentleman, Mr. Grzegorz Miczek, contacted me after seeing my original post. He asked whether I had any additional documents related to the brewery as reference for a book he’s writing on the “Raciborskie Brewery.” He mentioned he possesses a few bottles from the brewery, and graciously sent me images of them that he’s allowing me to share with readers. These elegant old beer bottles speak for themselves. (Figures 6-9)
My cousin Larry Leyser made another interesting discovery. The brewer Markus Braun, after having a dozen children by his first wife, Caroline Spiegel, remarried a Johanna Goldstein and had two additional children, a daughter Wanda Eugenia Braun (Figure 10; Translation) born in 1869, followed a year later by a son Markus Braun. (Figure 11; Translation) It appears the elder Markus passed away in 1870 at the age of 53 before his youngest son was born some months later.
Note: This postscript discusses additional information obtained about the Bruck’s “Prinz Von Preußen” Hotel from a Polish gentleman who has written a book on the history of Ratibor.
Following publication of Post 11, Mr. Paul Newerla from Raciborz, Poland, author of a book on Ratibor, entitled “Ratibor einst und jetzt” (“Ratibor, then and now”) (Figure 1), contacted me. He shared a lot of information and visuals from his book and other sources, including historic maps, to round out my understanding of the Bruck’s “Prinz von Preußen” Hotel, the inn owned by my family for three generations. Mr. Newerla also made me aware that my family’s connection to Ratibor extends a generation earlier. According to land registers from the city of Ratibor, Jacob Bruck (1770-1832), father of the original owner of the Prinz von Preußen, Samuel Bruck, was an arrendator, a lease-holder, on two properties within Ratibor. Jacob owned properties on Jungfernstrasse and Stockhaus-Gasse prior to construction of the family hotel; interestingly, an 1812 city map sent to me by Mr. Newerla shows the exact parcels owned by Jacob. (Figure 2)
Ratibor’s city walls, towers (Figure 3) and gates, surrounding the town, were only demolished in 1828, after which the Prinz von Preußen was constructed at the corner of Oderstraße and Bollwerkstraße. (Figures 4, 5, & 6) The same 1812 map just alluded to shows the city walls and gates. Approximating the position of the family hotel, it appears it was built almost atop where one Odertor, city gate, once stood.
A historian, Ms. Katrin Griebel from Zittau, Saxony, who has studied the surviving personal papers of two of my great-aunts, Franziska Bruck and Elsbeth Bruck, archived at the Stadtmuseum in Berlin, has gleaned some anecdotes about the family hotel. According to Ms. Griebel, the building occupied by the Bruck’s Hotel was the former palace of a marquis. Upon the nobleman’s death, the palace became known as the “Prinz von Preußen.”
By 1850, the marquis’s palace was assuredly a hotel. Mr. Newerla sent me notices related to two orchestral performances given by Johann Strauss the Younger at the “Prinz von Preußen.” In October 1850, Johann Strauss had plans to perform in front of the Russian Czar, and on his way to Russia he performed at the hotel the evening of October 17, 1850, spending the night. (Figure 7) On his return from Warsaw, he again stopped in Ratibor, giving an orchestral performance “im Saale des Prinzen von Preußen,” the “Hall of the Prince of Prussia,” on the afternoon of November 17, 1850 (Figure 8), leaving that same evening for Vienna.
The Bruck’s Hotel’s “Saale des Prinzen von Preußen” (Figure 9) served other community functions. Mr. Newerla has found records indicating that on October 31, 1859, Ratibor’s fire department held a large carnival ball there; the fire department also organized a theatrical performance, the proceeds of which were earmarked for the assistance of an injured fire brigade colleague.
Several pages from Mr. Newerla’s book discuss the founding in Ratibor of the “Peace Lodge XVII No. 361”of the “Independent Order B’nai B’rith” on May 9, 1886, which met at the “Prinz von Preußen.” B’nai B’rith was originally founded in 1843 in New York, and became established in Berlin, Germany in 1882. My great-grandfather, Fedor Bruck, was a member of Ratibor’s Lodge. Even though the statute of the Lodge specifically excluded politics from its field of activities, they were under police surveillance. While the Lodge continued to meet at the Bruck’s Hotel until at least April 1934 and steered clear of political matters, they appear to have been under pressure to disband.
Page 39 from Ratibor’s 1889 Address & Business Book (Figure 10), sent to me by Mr. Newerla, lists residents along Oderstraße, including number 16. Both my great-grandfather, Fedor Bruck, and grandfather, Felix Bruck, are listed at this address. Fedor is the “Besitzer,” or owner, and Felix Bruck the “Geschäftsführer,” the Managing Director (Figure 11); by 1892 Fedor Bruck was deceased. Under business listings, there are none for hotels, but Fedor Bruck is listed under “Gasthöfe 1 Classe,” first-class inns, and, oddly, under “Bade-Anstalten,” or bathing establishments. (Figure 12)
Mr. Newerla sent me a series of advertisements for the Bruck’s Hotel. (Figures 13-19) They appear to extend from the time the hotel was owned by my great-grandfather, Fedor Bruck, possibly through the 1930’s and later. Throughout its existence, it was known as the “Bruck’s ‘Prinz von Preußen’ Hotel,” even though it was no longer owned by my family.
