We discover that Johann Adam Borstler is the father of Anna Maria Borstler in her 1695 marriage record to Johann Wilhelm Kirsch in Dürkheim, now Bad Dürkheim, in Germany.

Unfortunately, Johann Adam wasn’t able to walk his daughter to the church, or down the aisle. There was no giving her hand in marriage.

Anna Maria is referenced as “surviving legitimate daughter of the late Johann Adan Borsler, former resident and kirchengeschworener from here.”

This tells us, of course, that Johann Adam had died and that he was from Dürkheim, both very useful pieces of information. I’m unclear if this simply means he lived in Dürkheim as an adult, meaning that he was a citizen and might have been born elsewhere, or if that means that he was born in Dürkheim.

Johann Adam’s daughter was born about 1675, judging both from a normal age at marriage as well as the fact that her last (known) child was born in 1718, so Johann Adam would not likely have been born after 1650, just about the time that the Thirty Years’ War was over. If he was about the same age as his wife, he could have been born anytime from roughly 1625-1650. Those dates encompass nearly the entire duration of the Thirty Years’ War, so his marriage and subsequent adulthood must have been anything but “normal” and filled with terror on a daily basis. How does constant strife and warfare ever become “normal” and what is it like to live like that? Perhaps faith was all they had.

History strongly suggests that indeed, Johann Adam Borstler was born in Dürkheim, because only three cities in the Palatinate were left standing for most of the war; Frankenthal, Dürkheim and Speyer.

Kirchengeschworener

The word kirchengeschworener is an old German word with no exact translation, according to my German genealogist friend, Chris. A kirchengeschworener was an elected or appointed representative of the church community (“church-sworn”) that worked with the pastor to perform functions like supervising property including roads near the church, maintaining records regarding ownership, managing church assets, collecting income and bookkeeping. In some places, thisperson also performed services as a counselor.

A kirchengeschworener was then a historical form of church leadership found in the old texts as early as the 1500s and into the 1700s in some places. Today, we might translate this duty or position as church elder, church father or deacon.

In one case, the kirchengeschworener was specifically responsible, among other things for “funding the corpse,” which, in this case, meant “Holy Corpse” or changing the host.

The Church

The Thirty Years’ War ended in 1648 when Johann Adam would either have been just being born or perhaps as a young man. He would have witnessed the slow process of rebuilding.

The countryside was devasted, entirely destroyed and depopulated, and most cities fared little better.

Dürkheim wasn’t large, not the way we think of cities today. In this drawing from the 1700s, we see the ruins of the Limburg Abbey in the distance in the hills, with the village below and the church tower standing to the right.

The church tower faces west, with Dürkheim standing at the base of the mountainous Palatinate Forest.

By Friedrich Haag – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0 de, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=35589426

The Limburg Abbey, overlooking Dürkheim, a landmark always in view, had stood as a sentinel in the distance for 800 years.

This 1630 pen and ink drawing of St. Johannis, or St. John’s Church shows the church, churchyard, and surrounding buildings. Little would have changed from 1630 until the burning of the church in 1689. This would have been the church that Johann Adam cared for, and very clearly cared about. The adjacent Latin school would have been where his children were schooled, and it’s possible that one of these houses at the rear of the church is where he lived. A trusted caretaker might well have lived nearby.

Johann Adam’s parents are likely buried in the churchyard that he passed inside the walls each time he entered the church.

The earliest church records that exist are burials beginning in 1640, but it was here, in this gothic baptismal font dating from 1537 that Johann Adam Borstler was likely baptized, and likely baptized his children as well.

We know that Adam walked past this very baptistry thousands of times in his lifetime.

It’s interesting to note that the church, now known at the castle church, first mentioned in 946 is walled, fortified, and that 1630, the year this drawing was rendered was well into the Thirty Years’ War, a dozen years after it began and long after the rest of the Palatinate cities were laid waste.

Adjacent buildings include the Latin school, and of course, the churchyard is in view. Not shown are gravestones for the hundreds of burials that would pack this churchyard full over the preceding 684+ years.

It would be here, in this churchyard, that Johann Adam Borstler was assuredly laid to rest, sometime after his daughter’s birth about 1675 and before her marriage in 1695.

We might be able to speculate a bit about what might have happened to Johann Adam, although we will never know for sure.

Amazingly, the church was spared during the Thirty Years’ War, but warfare began again when invaded by the French in 1673 after the French king decreed that the Palatinate should be made a desert. This war escalated until Dürkheim was taken in 1689 and very nearly burned to the ground.

Somehow, at least some of the church books were saved, thankfully. That’s nothing short of a miracle. The church itself burned, the walls so hot they buckled. The bell mounts melted and the bells dropped to the floor, melting into a molten puddle. The church books were clearly not in that building.

I have to wonder if Johann Adam, in his capacity as kirchengeschworener, had something to do with that. Did he hide those books away, outside of the church to keep them safe – unwittingly salvaging them for me to find him more than three centuries later? A gift, perhaps, to undreamed-of future generations. At that moment, the only future he was probably thinking about was survival – not someone 10 generations distant. With the fire and devastation, would there be any future for his family or would flames, death and foreign soldiers consume his entire family for eternity?

I also wonder if Johann Adam perished during this time, one way or another.

He could have been a relatively young father when he died, or he could have been several years older. Given his level of responsibility within the church, I’d think he would have earned that trust over the years, which would suggest he was older. It also tells us he was educated because he would have needed to be able to read and write. Could some of the handwriting in those church records actually be his own script?

If Anna Maria was a middle child, born about 1675 when he was 35, and he died in 1689, he would have been 49. Of course, he might not have died at this point in history. All we know for sure is that he was gone by her marriage in 1695, recorded in those very same church books.

How bittersweet.

The old portion of the church still remains after being repaired and restored in 1717, although the tower has been rebuilt.

You can read more about the church here and here.

Other Records in Dürkheim

There are other early records in Dürkheim, although none that we can definitively tie to our Johann Adam Borstler. Translations courtesy of Tom.

Burial: 16 Aug 1684

On the same day was buried, Anna Maria, dau of Hans Adam Borstler, age 1 ½ years……

This could have been the daughter of our Johann Adam Borstler, and the sister of Anna Maria, having been born in early 1683.

Or, this child could have been the daughter of another Johan Adam Borstler. Yes, of course there were two men in the same place by the same name. This IS my family, after all.

Burial: Laetare Sunday the 4^th of April 1700 committed to the earth here in a Christian ceremony, Joh. Adam Borsler, citizen, age 47 years. Text 2 Cor, verse 5, last.

This man could have been the brother of Anna Maria, having been born about 1657. If so, that tells us that his father was born no later than 1632.

I’m always fascinated by funeral sermons of specific times and places, because certainly ministers reused their favorites, so the same passages might have been read at for Johann Adam Borstler’s funeral when he died.

2 Corinthians 5

1 Now we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, an eternal house in heaven, not built by human hands.

2 Meanwhile we groan, longing to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling,

3 Because when we are clothed, we will not be found naked.

4 For while we are in this tent, we groan and are burdened, because we do not wish to be unclothed but to be clothed with our heavenly dwelling, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life.

5 Now it is God who has made us for this very purpose and has given us the Spirit as a deposit, guaranteeing what is to come.

6 Therefore we are always confident and know that as long as we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord.

7 We live by faith, not by sight.

8 We are confident, I say, and would prefer to be away from the body and at home with the Lord.

9 So we make it our goal to please him, whether we are at home in the body or away from it.

10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that each one may receive what is due him for the things done while in the body, whether good or bad.

11 Since, then, we know what it is to fear the Lord, we try to persuade men. What we are is plain to God, and I hope it is also plain to your conscience.

12 We are not trying to commend ourselves to you again, but are giving you an opportunity to take pride in us, so that you can answer those who take pride in what is seen rather than in what is in the heart.

13 If we are out of our mind, it is for the sake of God; if we are in our right mind, it is for you.

14 For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died.

15 And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.

16 So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer.

17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!

18 All this is from God, who reconciled us to himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation:

19 that God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting men’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.

20 We are therefore Christ’s ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ’s behalf: Be reconciled to God.

21 God made him who had no sin to be sin [1] for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.

Anna Maria Borstler surely attended the funeral of the man with the same name as her father. She had been married in that “church” 5 years before, although the actual building had not yet been rebuilt. It’s very likely that this man was closely related to the family, if not Anna Maria’s brother. Often, children were named after Godparents, so our Johann Adam may have been his godfather, if not his father, standing beside that baptismal font 47 years earlier, in 1653.

Was this man, still relatively young, laid to rest in the cemetery adjacent the burned church beside our Johann Adam Borstler?

The Johann Joachim Burschler Family May Provide a Clue

Tom found and translated several other early records of similar surname spellings, with little concrete to show for the effort, unfortunately.

However, there are some interesting findings, trails and hints. Keep in mind that early records are in archaic script, not always in good shape, and surnames were spelled however the person writing them down decided to spell them.

One Johann Joachim Burschler, a cooper, born about 1620, given that he married in 1643, was having children during this time. He married three times, first to Anna Catharina Voltz who died in 1668, next Otilla widow Korb (possibly Koob?) whom he married in 1676 and who died in 1677, then to Anna Catharina widow Storck.

Johann Joachim’s recorded children were:

• Georg born 1647, died 1667
• Johann Simon born 1649 married Anna Margaretha Burckhard in 1671. There is a Hans Simon who died in Schauernheim in 1708 and in 1712. One of the Simons married a Koob in about 1686 in Fussgoenheim.
• Johann Adam born 1652, married Anna Ottilia Pantzer in 1679, which precludes him from being the father of Anna Maria Borstler who married in 1695 and was born about 1675. There is a slight possibility that he could have been married previously and had Anna Maria.
• Hans Diether born in 1658 and died in 1682. The godparents were Diether Renner from Schauernheim…she wife (some text unreadable)…and Adam Stupp, citizen and shoemaker here. This ties this Borstler family with the Borstler family of Schauernheim who is tied to the Borstler, Kirsch and Koob families of Fussgoenheim, creating a circle of connections. A Johann Jacob Borstler died in Schauernheim in 1704.
• Johann Joachim born in 1661, died in 1667.

There is no mention of children with Anna Catharina Storck, who, if she was Johann Joachim’s age, would have been about 60, beyond childbearing years.

Two children of Johann Joachim Burschler, certainly another spelling of Borstler, connect with Schauernheim and Fussgoenheim where Anna Maria Borstler moved with her husband, Johann Wilhelm Kirsch.

While Johann Joachim Burschler may not have been our Johann Adam Borstler’s father, he may have been his uncle or cousin. These Borstler families are connected, or maybe intertwined is a better word, in this region of the Palatinate, with the Renner, Koob and Kirsch families found in Schauernheim, Fussgoenheim and Mutterstadt.

Y DNA

A male with the Boerstler or similar surname has not yet tested their Y DNA which would help us learn even more about our Borstler family. We know that these four families from the Borstler line immigrated to the US, and several had male children who may have male descendants today.

• Hans Michel Borstler born August 1701 in Schauernheim to Johann Michael Borstler and Anna Margaretha Lackinger, died 1767 in Berks County, PA, married Anna Catharina Krehl in Assenheim in 1726.
• Jacob Borstler born 1700 in Fussgoenheim to Johann Theobald (Dewald) Borstler and Maria Catharine Kemp (Kamp), married Catharina Peter in PA about 1727 and died in Berks County, PA. They had son, Johann Georg Berstler born in 1732 in Oley, Berks County, and died in 1790 in Bethlehem, Northampton Co., PA. This line had sons with Borstler, Berstler, Burstler, or Buerstler males today.
• George Borstler (Berstler,) brother of Jacob, above, born about 1712, died in Alsace, Berks County, PA.
• George Berstler born in 1734 in Ludwigshafen to Johann George Boerstler who died in 1798 in Schauernheim, immigrated, served in the Revolutionary War and died in Berks County, PA. He had sons Johann (John) 1775-1823, Jacob born in 1776, Samuel born in 1780, and David born in 1791.

I have a Y DNA testing scholarship for any Borstler or similar surname male from these or connected lines. Are these your relatives? Please reach out!

_____________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• FamilyTreeDNA – Y, mitochondrial and autosomal DNA testing
• MyHeritage DNA – ancestry autosomal DNA only, not health
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload – transfer your results from other vendors free
• AncestryDNA – autosomal DNA only
• 23andMe Ancestry – autosomal DNA only, no Health
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Products and Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder – genealogy software for your computer
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial
• Legacy Family Tree Webinars – genealogy and DNA classes, subscription-based, some free
• Legacy Family Tree Software – genealogy software for your computer
• Charting Companion – Charts and Reports to use with your genealogy software or FamilySearch

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists – professional genealogy research

The fact that we know anything at all about Anne Maria Boerstler or Borstler is nothing short of a miracle.

Were it not for the chance discovery of her marriage record in Dürkheim (now Bad Dürkheim) to Johann Wilhelm Kirsch on February 22, 1695, we might never have known her name nor that of her father.

Anna Maria’s marriage was recorded in the church record book, along with the name of her deceased father, Johann Adam Borstler.

Translation, courtesy of Tom, from Bad Dürkheim Evangelical Parish Records on Ancestry.

Marriage: 22 Feb 1695

Were married by the pastor J. Darsch? Joh. Willhelm Kirsch, surviving son of the late Joh. Georg Kirsch with Anna Maria, surviving legitimate dau of the late John. Adam Borsler, former resident and kirchengeschworener from here.

We know that Anna Maria’s father-in-law’s family took refuge in Dürkheim during the Thirty Years’ War when the Palatinate was depopulated. We’ve found records of the Boerstler family in various places in this part of Germany before the War, but most records were destroyed when the farms were abandoned during the Thirty Years’ War. This record tells us that Anna Maria’s father was a trusted elder of the church in Dürkheim before his death.

We also know that at least some families, or the next generation, slowly returned to their home villages in the countryside after 1650, but had to evacuate again between 1673 and 1689 when the Palatinate was once again invaded and burned to the ground, leaving the residents starving and without even clothing.

In the 1670s and 1680s, the Kirsch and Boerstler families already had a history and connections in Dürkheim, given that Dürkheim was only one of three cities that survived at least somewhat intact and their families had lived there for nearly half a century.

I was actually quite surprised to discover that Anna Maria Borstler and Johann Wilhelm Kirsch married in Dürkheim given that the city was nearly completely destroyed when French troops engaged in a scorched-earth campaign upon the orders of the French king.

Anna Maria would have been a teenager as she witnessed the city burn around her in 1689.

Dürkheim rebuilt quickly after the ending of the war in 1689, but still, it’s remarkable that she was able to be married there just 6 years later. This engraving shows Dürkheim in 1787. The church with the tower is where I thought Anna Maria was married in 1695. But, as it turns out, she couldn’t have been married there.

This amazing article, written by the Christlieb-Chrislip-Crislip family genealogist provides the best detailed documentation of the church I’ve found.

You can see photos of the beautiful Schlossekirche, here, formerly St. John’s Church, originally constructed in the 1300s.

In 1689, the church was gutted by fire, the walls suffering such intense heat that the bells fell out of their mounts and melted onto the floor of the church. Only the hulk remained, not being rebuilt until 1727 when the walls had to be reinforced with iron bars due to the damage from the heat of the 1689 fire. Somehow, at least some of the churchbooks were saved with burials from as early as 1640. I wonder if Anna Maria’s father was instrumental in their salvation. The books must have been removed before the fire, with the minister continuing to make entries, even though the church itself lay in ruins for 40 years.

Clearly, Anna Maria didn’t marry in the church building of her childhood.

Still, the Protestant citizens would have worshipped someplace during that time – perhaps in a makeshift church or someone’s home.

The part of the church to the rear, shown here, is original, as is the street. The cemetery, where Anna Maria’s father was probably buried, was located just to the right of the church.

Did Anna Maria walk up this street and pause for a moment to glance at his grave, on the way to wherever she would be married?

Anna Maria’s Church and School

This 1630 pen and ink drawing of the St. Johannis Church depicts the church, of course, the churchyard surrounding the church where the parishoners would have been buried, and the school. You can see the street, in the photo above, to the right of this drawing. The street itself hasn’t changed, the curve behind the church still quite identifiable.

If Anna Maria was born sometime between 1670 and 1677, at the latest, she would probably have attended the Protestant Latin School near the church. It’s almost certain that all these half-timber wooden structures burned during the war, but this drawing provides us a rare glimpse of the neighborhood that Anna Maria would have frequented as a child. I can’t help but wonder if she lived in one of these houses, given that her father was one of the two primary church caretakers.

Inferring Anna Maria’s Life

Given that Anna Maria was married in February 1695, she probably had her first child in 1696, and a new baby joined the family thereafter every 18 months to two years.

We know almost nothing about Anna Maria’s life, except by inference.

We know that she and her husband served as godparents in Oggersheim in 1710. It’s possible that Oggersheim was the closest functioning church to Fussgoenheim where they probably lived at that time.

We know that Anna Maria’s deceased father-in-law held leasehold rights in Fussgoenheim, just 5 miles or so from Oggersheim, after 1660 and before his death.

Anna Maria’s brother-in-law, Johann Adam Kirsch, had returned to Fussgoenheim and was mayor in 1701.

We know that in 1717, Anna Maria’s husband, Johann Wilhelm Kirsch, noted as the court clerk or cognant, was scribing tetimony along with a few other elders in the village documenting village customs before the war, which means that the family was well-established and living there.

The Fussgoenheim church records are incomplete for several periods of history. No records exist before 1726, possibly because there was no church which meant there was no minister, and because the Fussgoenheim citizens took their children to the next closest church for baptisms until they could afford to rebuild their own.

The first Kirsch burial we find is in 1735, followed by multiple Kirsch deaths every year except for 1742. From 1743 to 1762 there are none.

The church in Fussgoenheim was rebuilt in about 1726, after which time four of Anna Maria’s children were confirmed in what would have been a beautiful brand-spanking-new church.

Anna Maria Borstler and Johann Wilhelm Kirsch’s four known children are:

• Maria Catharina Kirsch was born about 1711 and married Johann Theobald Koob on February 21, 1730. Was that date intentionally selected, given that it would have been the day before her parents’ 35^th wedding anniversary?

Anna Maria would have attended her daughter’s wedding, about 60 years old at the time. Not “old” by any measure today, but certainly viewed with an “elder” status at that time – having survived warfare, fires, plagues, pestilence, moving to a ruined area in the countryside to begin anew, not to mention multiple childbirth and deaths.

• Anna Catharina Kirsch was born about 1715, but we know nothing more so she may have died after her confirmation in 1727.
• Johann Andreas Kirsch was born in 1716, confirmed in 1729 in Fussgoenheim, married Anna Barbara Sorg in 1737 in Friedelsheim and died about 1745. Freidelsheim was about 4 miles away, halfway between Fussgoenheim and Dürkheim.
• Anna Margaretha Kirch was born about 1718, confirmed in 1731 in Fussgoenheim and married Georg Heinrich Koob, brother of her sister’s husband, in 1736. Anna Maria would have attended this wedding too, in the newly-rebuilt Fussgoenheim church.

Based on these births about 1711, 1715, 1716 and 1718, we can surmise that there would have been other babies born in:

• 1696
• 1698
• 1700
• 1702
• 1704
• 1706
• 1708
• 1710
• 1713

That’s 9 infants, or perhaps more, that died as babies or young children. Their oldest child would have been confirmed about 1707 or 1708, many years before the church records in Fussgoenheim began in 1726.

Of course, it is possible that some of the children didn’t perish young and married prior to 1726. If they moved elsewhere, it would have in effect erased any trace of their life in Fussgoenheim. Their oldest child would have been marriage-age about 1720 when Anna Maria’s youngest child would have been about 2.

It’s almost certain that some of those babies would have been buried in the churchyard in Fussgoenheim, or perhaps in Dürkheim before they returned to Fussgoenheim after their marriage. Of course, for Anna Maria, she might well have lived her entire life in Dürkheim, so it wouldn’t necessarily be “returning” for her, simply starting life anew outside of Dürkheim. Fortunately, Dürkheim wasn’t terribly distant, about 6 miles, certainly walkable but much easier riding in the back of a cart.

Anna Maria’s grandchildren began arriving in June of 1731. For a few years, she was able to enjoy watching them peacefully play in the farmyards, orchards and fields of Fussgoenheim.

Location, Location, Location

It’s possible that Anna Maria was deceased by 1743 when a map was drawn of the properties in Fussgoenheim. Widows were noted on the property that had been their husband’s and there is no widow of Wilhelm Kirsch shown.

If Anna Maria had passed away, either the William Kirsch land, inherited from his father, had passed to someone else, or into the hands of her two daughters whose husband’s homes are listed as locations 6, 16 and 23.

Theobald Koob married Maria Catharina Kirsch. It’s interesting that the two Theobald Koob properties abut Mayor Michael Kirsch’s land and George Koob was living across the street, just north of Peter Kirsch.

Michael Kirsch owned three pieces of land, and it’s entirely possible that one of those had been Wilhelms, passing to Michael when Wilhelm passed on. A 1753 accounting, if we can get our hands on it, should answer those questions.

Noel in her drive through Fussgoenheim didn’t intend to capture one of the properties of Theobald Koob, but she did, inadvertently.

Just north of the main intersection in town, on the right hand side, the home of Theobald Koob was located between the corner and Michael Kirsch’s just before the curve of the street in the distance.

Theobald Koob’s property was beyond the building with the red roof, likely the white building with the brown roof.

Noel accidentally caught a glimpse of George Koob’s property too.

The yellow building visible across the street from the Michael Kirsch home (at left) was where George Koob lived with his wife, Anna Margaretha Kirsch.

During WWII, Marliese, a Kirsch descendant, corresponded with the Kirsch family who had immigrated to Indiana 90 years before, sending photos. At that time, the house beside the Michael Kirsch home was reported as the Koehler home. Who knew it once belonged to Theobald Koob?

Theobald Koob’s property that abutted the Kirsch home no longer stands, but miraculously, thanks to Marliese, we have a photo.

The house with the “O” was the Theobald Koob home, with the X being Michael Kirsch’s.

Anna Maria Borstler Kirsch may have lived with one of her daughters as she aged. If so, she lived in one of these three locations. She assuredly knew these homes as well as her own, visiting her daughter, entering without knocking like the residence was her own.

In a small, crossroads farming settlement, I’d wager that every village woman was in and out of every single house. Everyone was related to everyone, one way or another, not to mention group activities like food preparation and preservation, childbirth, and caring for the sick and infirm. There was no mortician then and people died often. Families lovingly washed bodies and prepared them, at home, for burial. Yes, everyone just made themselves at home and did what needed to be done.

The Autumn of Anna Maria’s Life?

We don’t know for sure when Anna Maria died or where she is buried, but we do know that she lived in Fussgoenheim and that she resided there when her last child was born about 1718. Her husband was the court cognate in 1717 and there is scant reason to believe they lived elsewhere thereafter, meaning she would have died in Fussgoenheim – although there is a shred of doubt.

This much we know for sure – Anna Maria died sometime after 1740.

On April 16, 1736, Anna Maria served as godmother to a granddaughter named Maria Catharina Koob, born to her daughter, Maria Catharina Kirsch and Johann Theobald Koob.

On October 14, 1740, Anna Maria was once again called to Maria Catharina’s bedside as she prepared to deliver her fifth child. The baby, in obvious distress and described as weak was baptized immediately in the home, with Anna Maria as godmother. She bore sad testimony to the baby’s death, as the church record notes that the child was deceased within a few hours. Sadly, this tiny girl’s name wasn’t recorded, and I can’t help but wonder if she would have been named for her grandmother, Anna Maria, as was tradition.

Anna Maria had delivered her (probable) namesake granddaughter, baptized her and buried her. How incredibly sad.

Given that burial records exist between 1735 and 1743, and we know Anna Maria was living in October 1740, there’s a real possibility that she may have died after 1743 when she would have been about 70.

Several Kirsch families were expelled from Fussgoenheim in 1743 when they refused to validate the “redrawn” map submitted by the nobleman, Tilman von Hallberg, that deprived families of most of their hereditary land. Given that Anna Maria’s husband, Johann Wilhelm Kirsch was deceased by this time, and she was elderly, it’s unlikely that she was evicted, although there is a house, adjacent the church on the south side with the name Wilhem Kirsch, but no mention of “widow.” Still, given that she seems to have still been living, in that there’s no known death record for her, I can’t help but wonder if this is where she lived.

If so, Anna Maria lived adjacent the church, probably in the structure with the red arrow, below.

It’s possible that this property belonged to one of the two younger Johan Wilhelm Kirsch’s alive at that time. We simply don’t know, but we do know that while the elders refused to sanction this map submitted by Hallberg in 1743, he drew it sometime prior to 1743. An accounting made in 1753, when the family was allowed to return to the village, may provide the missing details.

There are no Kirsch burials from 1743 to 1762. If Anna Maria did leave Fussgoenheim during that time, as did the Kirsch families and Johann Theobald Koob, she likely went to Ellerstadt with the rest of the Kirsch clan or perhaps with her daughter Maria Catharina and Johann Theobald Koob to Weisenheim am Sand. Or, she could have died in Fussgoenheim and the record could simply be missing. If she died nearby, I can’t help but wonder if they wouldn’t have brought her back to Fussgoenheim to be buried. Neither Ellerstadt nor Weisenheim am Sand was far distant.

If Anna Maria is buried in the churchyard in Fussgoenheim, she is resting beside Johann Wilhelm Kirsch, her daughter, Anna Catharina, her unnamed granddaughter, and several more small graves that held children of her own. Eventually, her two daughters and grandchildren would be laid to rest nearby.

There are no gravestones marking burials in the Fussgoenheim churchyard today, nor records of who was buried there. Yet we know that the dust of our ancestors’ rests here, behind the church that was probably constructed as Anna Maria watched, perhaps from next door.

Anna Maria’s heart would have rejoiced to see a new church built between 1726 and 1733 where she could worship. The religious wars had taken so much from them, breaking their hearts, but not crushing their souls. She watched her own church burn, along with the rest of the village in Dürkheim in 1789.

Anna Maria would have celebrated this new church, lifting her voice in joyful hymns, watching her family gather in the pews. This rebuilt church was more than a building – a beacon of hope lighting the way into a better, more stable future. As she surveyed her family, children and grandchildren as they gathered for baptisms and burials in the little church in Fussgoenheim, Anna Maria knew full well that one day soon enough, it would be her turn to be carried from the church into the churchyard for her eternal sleep.

Mitochondrial DNA

Anna Maria Borstler’s mitochondrial DNA was inherited from her mother, and her from her mother, back into time immemorial.

Mitochondrial DNA is inherited by both sexes of children, but only passed on by females. Anyone who descends from Anna Maria through all females to the current generation, which can be males, carries her mitochondrial DNA.

Anna Maria’s mitochondrial DNA can help connect her to her mother and inform us of where her ancestral line came from in the more distant past. We don’t know who her mother was.

We know that her daughter, Maria Catharina Kirsch who married Johann Theobald Koob had had two daughters, Susanna Elisabetha Koob and Maria Catharina Koob who both married Kirsch men.

Daughter Anna Margaretha Kirsch married George Heinrich Koob and had daughter, Maria Catharina who married Johann Diether Koob and had three daughters.

If you descend from Anna Maria Borstler through all females to this generation, which can be male, I have a DNA testing scholarship for you. Please reach out!

_____________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• FamilyTreeDNA – Y, mitochondrial and autosomal DNA testing
• MyHeritage DNA – ancestry autosomal DNA only, not health
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload – transfer your results from other vendors free
• AncestryDNA – autosomal DNA only
• 23andMe Ancestry – autosomal DNA only, no Health
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Products and Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder – genealogy software for your computer
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial
• Legacy Family Tree Webinars – genealogy and DNA classes, subscription-based, some free
• Legacy Family Tree Software – genealogy software for your computer
• Charting Companion – Charts and Reports to use with your genealogy software or FamilySearch

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists – professional genealogy research

Johann Wilhelm Kirsch was born about 1670, someplace in the Palatinate, but we don’t know where for certain – or exactly when. His father was known as “Jerg” Kirsch, short for Johann Georg Kirsch who married Margaretha Koch in September of 1650 in Bad Dürkheim.

Given that Johann Wilhelm Kirsch was married in the same city in 1695, one could make the argument that he was born there sometime around 1670, or at least between 1650 and 1670.

Another argument could be made that Johann Wilhelm was born in Fussgoenheim because his father was noted as a leaseholder of the Jostens estate in Fussgoenheim in 1660.

If Johann Wilhelm Kirsch was born in Fusgoenheim, he certainly spent time in Bad Dürkheim for some reason, because that’s where he married Anna Maria Borstler on February 22, 1695.

Translation, courtesy of Tom, from Bad Durkheim Evangelical Parish Records on Ancestry.

Marriage: 22 Feb 1695

Were married by the pastor J. Darsch? Joh. Willhelm Kirsch, surviving son of the late Joh. Georg Kirsch with Anna Maria, surviving legitimate dau of the late John. Adam Borsler, former resident of Kirz?

In 1710, both Johann Wilhelm Kirsch and his wife were found in the in Oggersheim church records according to Walter Schnebel’s records, probably as godparents.

Johann Wilhelm’s brother, Andreas, noted as single, died in Oggersheim in 1712.

We don’t know what, or why, but there was some connection to Oggersheim.

Unfortunately, the church records in Fussgoenheim are missing prior to 1726, but we find the confirmation of Johann Wilhelm’s daughters beginning there in 1727, so we know they were in Fussgoenheim before that time. In fact, significantly before.

In 1717, Fussgoenheim was still trying to recover from both the Thirty Years’ War, which ended in 1648, although the area didn’t begin to be repopulated until 1650 or so, along with the later French incursions beginning in 1673 and not ending until 1697. People starved during this time, and many fled across the Rhine River for safety.

The Kirsch family had unquestionably lived in Fussgoenheim, at least after the Thirty Years’ War and before the Nine Years’ War, which actually lasted longer than 9 years.

We know this to be a fact based on a Fussgoenheim document preserved from 1717. This old historical document is written in very old German language, but the essence of the document is that Fussgoenheim was attempting to reclaim some semblance of social organization.

Wilhelm Kirsch and Christoph Hauck, both noted as a “courthouse clerk,” (Deepl translation) or “court man” or “judge” (by Walter Schnebel) along with Andreas Kirsch, Dieter Coop (Johann Dietrich Koob born in 1670) and Hans Jacob Spannier worked with 7 “old men” from the village who are noted as:

• Adam Kirsch (born 1677)
• Jacob Antes
• Hanss Adam Hauck
• Theobaldt Biirstler (Borstler)
• Matthew Musspach
• Hemp Nickel Coop (probably Hans Nicolaus Koob)
• Adam Gifft

The 1717 notes indicate that all court records and other written documents, “rights and righteousness” were totally destroyed along with all old, traditional rights and customs of the village. The unidentified 88-year-old father of one of those men was still living, meaning he had been born in 1629, during the Thirty Years’ War. We know that Johann Wilhelm’s father was deceased by 1695, so the 88-year-old is not his father.

I’ll include the entire Deepl translated document in the future article for Johann Adam Kirsch since Adam was one of the elders mentioned.

The devastation wrought by the French soldiers in the 1670s and 1680s explains why Johann Wilhelm Kirsch was living back in Bad Dürkheim when he married. The villages were again burned, the residents left with nothing, not even clothes.

We only know about four children belonging to Johann Wilhelm Kirsch, based on their marriages or confirmations. There may have been additional children, of course, and probably were.

We don’t know when Johann Wilhelm Kirsch died, but Walter Schnebel, now deceased local researcher who grew up beside the ancestral Kirsch home in Fussgoenheim records his death as occurring before 1723, along with his brothers Johann Jacob Kirsch and Daniel Kirsch.

I wish I knew how Walter determined that Wilhelm was deceased before 1723. There is obviously a record of some type someplace. I suspect it’s a 1753 accounting that I’ve seen Walter reference which details family descendancy relative to land.

The lack of records in Fussgoenheim makes documenting Wilhelm’s life extremely difficult.

We know that Wilhelm was born sometime after his parent’s marriage in September of 1650 and roughly 1670 which would have made him roughly 25 years old at his own wedding in 1695.

Between his birth and marriage, it’s likely that Wilhelm lived in Fussgoenheim between 1660 and the 1670/80s when his family had to seek refuge again as the French overran and destroyed what had been rebuilt in Fussgoenheim.

Thanks to his marriage record, we know that Wilhelm’s father had died by 1695, although we have no idea when his mother died. In fact, we know nothing more about her at all except that she clearly lived long enough to give birth to Wilhelm’s siblings between 1650 and roughly 1677.

Sometime after 1695, Wilhelm returned to Fussgoenheim with his wife and family. He could have been living there when he and his wife were godparents in Oggersheim in 1712.

Johann Wilhelm may have decided to return to Fussgoenheim after his marriage in order to reclaim his citizenship rights, those held by his father, or to be near his siblings, one of whom was mayor in 1701. By 1717, Wilhelm was clearly established.

We know that Johann Wilhelm can read and write, because otherwise, he would not have been the court clerk taking those notes in 1717. I wonder where the original document is currently archived, because it would stand to reason that if I can obtain a copy, I would be viewing Johann Wilhelm’s own handwriting – or maybe that of the other clerk, Christoph Hauck. Perhaps the man who scribed the notes signed the document. Hmmm, I think I need to make some inquiries.

How I wish I could ask Wilhelm what was meant by some of those archaic words. Not just literal translation, but events that he, his brother and the other village elders documented. Clearly, they had information about Fussgoenheim families reaching back, at least, between 1660 and the war that began in 1674.

We know that in 1717 there were only between 7 and 12 people whose memory extended back in time far enough, a half century+, to be useful in reconstructing information about the old village, residents and family structure.

This tells us that these families, when they returned to Fussgoenheim, likely would have settled on the land in the center of the village where they could offer each other protection and shelter, if needed. Originally, that was the only village.

There were probably only a handful of families in 1660 when Jerg Kirsch and his children settled in Fussgoeneim. Most had died during the Thirty Years’ War, and those who survived had relocated decades earlier. Of course, those few who returned got to evacuate all over again just a few years later. Starting over yet a third time in the 1690s would have been a difficult decision to make, although other options may not have been much better.

Citizens rebuilt their lives for a generation or so in peace and quiet, but a few years later, in 1743 Lord von Hallberg attempted to redraw land boundaries and confiscate residents’ lands. We know that the Kirsch families had expanded to occupy several homes in the village. Wilhelm only had one known son, Johann Andreas, so he might well have inherited Wilhelm’s rights. If so, that means that it’s likely that Andreas is shown on the 1743 “redistricting” map submitted to the town fathers by Hallberg, which they quickly rejected.

Unfortunately, we can’t read all of the names on this map, but we can place several known Kirsch males in specific houses. We can also read two additional locations that show Kirsch inhabitants, but I can’t decipher the first name.

Of the male grandchildren of our progenitor, Jerg Kirsch, who would be entitled to some form of inherited rights, we have six Kirsch men who potentially could be noted on the map in the locations that we can’t read.

Having said that, it’s fairly certain that Wilhelm lived in one of these Kirsch properties before his death. There are no properties without names.

Properties attributed to Kirsch men are as follows:

• Michael Kirsch, Schultheiss, which means mayor – three properties on the right-hand side. Other Kirsch families may have lived in these homes.
• Martin Kirsch, red arrow upper left.
• Peter Kirsch, red arrow center left.
• Michael Kirsch’s widow, who we know is Anna Margaretha Spanier. Her son is Peter Kirsch.

The green arrows are:

• Center left – may be another Kirsch male, beside Martin Kirsch, but I can’t read clearly – could be Andreas.
• Upper right on the bend – clearly a Kirsch surname, but can’t read the first name.

Not shown on this map, but on an adjoining map to the south, we find a William Kirsch listed adjacent to the Lutheran church on the lower left, above, and the second property from top, below.

This William Kirsch would have been living in 1743, so if Johann William Kirsch who was born about 1670 died before 1723, that property would not have been his – nor did he have a son named William, at least not that we know of.

The locations of those two properties today are shown with red stars, above.

All of the Kirsch men would have lived within a block or so of each other. The village in 1720 only consisted of 150-200 people. At 5 people per household, that’s only 30-50 houses, and with 10 people per household, that’s just 15-20 homes. The 1743 map shows 32 which would suggest perhaps 160 residents with about 60 adults.

The intersection of Amstrasse, Ruchheimer and Hauptstrasse is now and was then the center of town.

Noel, on her detour through Fussgoenheim on my behalf took this photo from the intersection that looks up Ruchheim Street towards the curve where one of the Kirsch properties was located, across the street from the blue building in the distance.

The location below, on the curve on Ruchheimer Street, is relatively easy to discern. I wish that Google maps had street-view in Germany.

The property on present Amtsstrasse, below, is someplace in the center of the block.

The City Hall is the building to the far right. Of course, in 1717, there probably wasn’t any city hall or civil building yet constructed. The church had not yet been rebuilt either, so I’d wager that the city hall came after the church in terms of priority. Church records begin in 1726, so I’d bet that’s when the church was completed.

The few records available for Johann Wilhelm Kirsch belie the complexity of the time in which he lived. He personally sat at the table and recorded the efforts to piece life back together in 1717 after two devastating wars, listening to the stories and testimony of the village elders – the few that had survived. The fact that we know they had returned by 1701, yet were only in 1717 beginning the process of documenting the social, land and inheritance structure previously in place bears silent testimony to the difficulty of rebuilding literally from scratch.

I’d wager that it took that long to stabilize the community in such a way that farms were producing, mills rebuilt and the food supply reliably restored. Clearly, that would have been the first priority before focusing on documenting the social and family constructs of a village ripped to shreds 99 years before, beginning in 1618 until at least 1650 and then again from 1674-1689. It was a difficult task indeed, but thankfully, Johann Wilhelm Kirsch and his brother preserved as much as they could, probably from stories told by their parents before their death. Ironic, somehow, that the family histories of those village elders, their genealogy, would save the day, laying the foundation for future generations.

Johann Wilhelm Kirsch would be very pleased, I’m sure, to know that 303 years later, the beautiful, quaint, lovely village of Fussgoenheim has grown and matured, but remains intact and is still a place he would recognize.

_____________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• FamilyTreeDNA – Y, mitochondrial and autosomal DNA testing
• MyHeritage DNA – ancestry autosomal DNA only, not health
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload – transfer your results from other vendors free
• AncestryDNA – autosomal DNA only
• 23andMe Ancestry – autosomal DNA only, no Health
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Products and Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder – genealogy software for your computer
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial
• Legacy Family Tree Webinars – genealogy and DNA classes, subscription-based, some free
• Legacy Family Tree Software – genealogy software for your computer
• Charting Companion – Charts and Reports to use with your genealogy software or FamilySearch

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists – professional genealogy research

I met my cousin Pam Bolton some years ago. She and I both descend from our common ancestors, Henry Bolton and his second wife, Nancy Mann. Pam proved to be an ace genealogist, learned to work with DNA and has made inroads using both types of tools.

Together, we administer the Bolton DNA Project at Family Tree DNA which we invite all Boltons of any line and all descendants to join. Our search endeavors using both DNA and records don’t end with that project.

Using diligent research, Pam made headway identifying the parents and neighborhood of Henry and his brother, Conrad, on the waterfront in historic London before their “kidnapping” and immigration in 1775 where they were promptly sold into indentured servitude to pay for the passage they didn’t choose.

We kept hoping for a Y DNA match to a Bolton in England, but so far, that hasn’t happened. There is an Irish match at 25 of 37 markers whose ancestor was born in 1625 spelled Bolton and a Boldan from Germany born in 1813, so maybe there is some truth to early family legends. Neither have upgraded to the Big Y test which would further refine the connection and identify how long ago the lines diverged. Both could be reflective of either happenstance surname matches or even movement, in the case of Germany, since the 1700s.

Research was then at a standstill for a few years until Pam hired Anthony, a professional genealogist in London. Feet on the ground combined with someone who knows the ropes makes an absolutely huge difference.

Pam was kind enough to share her research with me, so that I, in turn, can share it with you. Above all, we want the information about Henry, Conrad and their ancestors to be accurate, or at least as accurate as we can make it. Anthony’s work eliminates a lot of possibilities, and provides likely scenarios, but there is no smoking gun, no absolute proof. We need to be clear about that. There is, however, substantial evidence.

If you have questions, including about Anthony’s contact information, suggestions, or more information, please feel free to contact us by either commenting on this article or emailing Pam who is spearheading this research at rudywoofs@yahoo.com.

I want to say a big, huge, thank you to Pam. You’re amazing!!!

Legends

Pam was fortunate to have heard the family legends. Not only through her direct line, but through the families she contacted over the years during her research who gladly shared their stories. She found similarities in many.

Legend told us that Henry’s father, also named Henry, had owned some sort of shop along the Thames River near or on London Bridge.

London Bridge, with houses built on it, 1616.

Another tradition was that Henry’s mother was named Sarah and there was therefore one girl so-named in every generation in her honor.

The story of the boys being lured onto the ship, which turned out to be the Culvert, on the Thames River and kidnapped in order to be sold to pay their passage descended through both her family and mine through different sons of Henry.

Yet a different version of the story involved a wicked step-mother that wished to be rid of them.

Add to that a different legend of a shipwreck in which Henry and Conrad’s parents both died.

Rumors persisted in some families that Bolton was either Dutch or German.

My family told the story of a German “valentine” from Henry’s sweetheart in “the old country” that he kept in a Bible. Of course, the area where they lived in London was a neighborhood of immigrants, and early English secretarial script could have been mistaken for another language. I certainly can’t read it.

Henry supposedly had with him a card from a Methodist church or school where he studied, but no one that I know of has ever seen that document, nor the reported valentine. Henry could definitely write though, because he signed several documents in his lifetime. Someplace along the way, he obtained some education.

I wrote about Pam’s findings in the article, Henry and Conrad Bolton, 240^th Immigration Anniversary, along with the questions her newly-found information raised.

Pam had found a marriage bond between a Henry Bolton and Sarah Corry in 1754 where he is noted as a widower. The couple married at St. Botolph Aldgate, northeast of St. Katherines by the Tower church and neighborhood, a working-class, poor, immigrant, riverfront area within sight of London Bridge.

Not long after, baptisms for children including Henry and a son, Conrath were recorded in nearby churches. Were these baptisms for our Henry and Conrad, even if the dates did not align perfectly with the ages the boys had claimed to be upon arrival in 1775?

The ship’s captain could have inflated their ages, hoping to get more money when he auctioned them for their 7 years of indentured servitude.

While the name Henry was fairly common, the name Conrath Ditirnick Bolton, born to one Henry and Sarah was very distinct. However, this record shows Conrath born in 1765, so only 10 years old, not 16, when they were kidnapped.

Similarly, the births for baby Henry Bolton didn’t align with him being 15 in 1775 either.

It seemed like there might have been multiple couples by the name of Henry and Sarah Bolton living in London and having children at the same time. I know, what are the chances?

Pam found one Henry Bolton, a victualler, living in Ship Alley. Widower Henry Bolton, a victualler married Sarah Corry in 1754.

To make matters even more confusing, Pam found an 1806 will for a Henry Bolton who mentioned a wife, Sarah with minor children, Sarah and Henry William.

Was this the same Henry? The same Sarah or the same Henry and a second wife named Sarah? Or neither? What was going on? We needed help.

Introducing Anthony

Pam found professional genealogist, Anthony. Almost all of this information is taken from Anthony’s report, lightly edited, with a few comments and some additions such as maps and pictures provided by me. I have added churches and cemeteries where our ancestors and their children were either baptized, lived or buried, and structures from their neighborhoods like a city gate that would have been familiar to them on a daily basis. This allows me, and you, to walk in their footsteps, at least a little bit, from afar both in terms of time, more than 250 years ago and far away.

Anthony’s report starts here:

The first step was to check the baptism of ‘Conrath Ditrick Bolten/Bolton’ on 24 February 1765 in the original parish register of the Collegiate Church of St Katherine by the Tower in the City of London.

We found:

Conrath Ditirnick Botten [or Bolten, or Botlen, if it is badly written] [son] of Henry & Sarah – 6 [days old], was baptized on 24 February 1765

We searched for, but could not find, a record of an infant burial or a later burial for Conrath or Conrad Bolten/Bolton – a promising piece of circumstantial evidence that he survived to go to America, as you had hoped.

St Katherine by the Tower church no longer exists today, torn down to build docks.

Marriages

We then searched for marriages between the parents, Henry Bolten (or variants) and Sarah, in the period 1740-1765 in the London area. We found two possibilities:

Clandestine Marriage Westminster, London [by Mr Deneveu]

11 February 1752
Henry Boulton Stockings Maker of St Leonard Shoreditch Wid^r & Sarah Bates of St Lukes M^dsex Wid.

The second marriage took place at St. Botolph Aldgate.

St. Botolph Aldgate church today.

The churchyard of St. Botolph Aldgate, shown above.

St Botolph Aldgate London

Date of Marriage: 26 Sep 1754

Hen Bolten of the parish of St George Middlesex Wid^r and Sarah Corry of this parish Sp^r married in this church by licence this twenty sixth Day of September in the year One Thousand Seven Hundred and fifty four. Sarah appears to have signed in the place of the witnesses who were Wm Barnell and Mary X Denton her mark

Note that we have both Henry Bolton and Sarah Corry’s signature on this document.

As this stated that the marriage was by licence we searched for and found the document in question in the records of the Bishop of London:

He have Henry’s signature on this document as well.

Henry Bolton of the Parish of St George in the County of Middlesex Victualler and [blank]
25 September 1754
the above bounden Henry Bolton a widower and Sarah Corry spinster

This, to be clear, was the licence which allowed the couple to marry.

St. George is also known as St. George in the East, shown here in 1870.

By Doc77can – Own work, CC BY-SA 3.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=31418742

By Doc77can – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=40290848

St. George in the East is beside the Tower.

Births and Baptisms

We then searched for children baptized to couples called Henry and Sarah Bolton (or variants) in London in the period 1740-1790:

Several baptisms were in St. Leonard Shoreditch. Not terribly far, but also not in the neighborhood of St. Katherine by the Tower. St. Katherine was where the docks are today, and the iconic Tower of London is at left, beside the Tower Bridge.

This painting is from the late 1500s and shows the Old London Bridge in the background, probably much as it looked when Henry and his ancestors lived there.

This 1737 engraving depicts the Tower of London from the waters of the Thames which were always busy, a river of commerce.

St Leonard, Shoreditch, Middlesex
Baptism date: 12 July 1752
Henry son of Henry & Sarah Bolton of Dunkirk Court. Born the 10^th & Baptized y^e
12^th Ins^t

—

St Leonard Shoreditch, Middlesex
Baptism date: 9 December 1753
John S[on of] Henry & Sarah Boulton Dunker Court Born Decr 9^th Baptized same day.

—

St Leonard, Shoreditch, Middlesex
Baptism date: 1 October 1755
Rachel D[aughter] Henry & Sarah Boulton Dunker Court Born Sep^r 26^th Baptized 1^st instant.

The next group of baptisms took place to a Henry Bolton and Sarah who lived in Ship Alley.

Ship Alley no longer exists in its original form today, but you can still find the location by looking at the layouts of the streets.

Here’s a view of the entrance to Ship Alley from Wellclose Square in 1898.

This article includes a photo of the same area today, including this tree.

The next baptisms occurred to the Henry and Sarah who lived in Ship Alley, located exactly where this red arrow is located today. Ship Alley was only 300 feet long or so and is long gone.

Alleys at that time were small, often rather putrid narrow passageways where houses and people were packed like sardines. Think tenements. Remember that human sewage and horse manure covered the dirt streets and alleys which were sandwiched anyplace possible. Dirt streets turned to mud when it rained. Everything drained into the Thames River and stunk to high heavens. Personal hygiene was virtually non-existent as we know it today. Ship Alley was just a couple blocks from the riverfront.

The baptisms took place in St. George in the East Church.

St. George in the East was located literally 100 feet away from Ship’s Alley.

St Katherine at the Tower was near Thomas More Square today, where the docks and marina are located.

St George in the East, Middlesex
Baptism date: 14 July 1755
Henry James of Henry Bolton Victual^r by Sarah – Ship All (3 D[ays] O[ld])

This child seems to have gone early to his grave:

—

St George in the East, Middlesex
Baptism date: 21 Sep 1756
John of Henry Bolton Victual^r by Sarah Ship All. 9 D[ays] O[ld]

This baby died less than 6 months later.

St George in the East, Middlesex
Burial date: 4 March 1757

Baby John would have been buried here in the churchyard of St. George in the East, probably with no marker, or perhaps a wooden cross.

Henry James Bolten (burial) of Ship All^ey

—

Now, back to Shoreditch for the next baptism.

St Leonard, Shoreditch, Middlesex
Baptism date: 17 June 1757
Jane D[aughter of] Henry & Sarah Bolton Dunker Court Born 17 June and baptiz’d same day

—

And another two baptisms at St George in the East.

St George in the East, Middlesex
Baptism date: 23 May 1760
George of Henry Bolton Victualler by Sarah  Ship Al.   12 D[ays] O[ld]

—

St George in the East, Middlesex
Baptism date: 8 August 1762
Henry Frederick of Henry Bolton Victualler  Ship Alley  7 D[ays] O[ld]

Two Couples, Two Henrys

So, there were clearly two couples. Each Henry and Sarah had a son Henry. Not only that, but the Henry and Sarah who lived in Ship Alley had two sons named Henry, one named Henry James who died, and one named Henry Frederick born in 1762 which would have made him 13 in 1775.

The Shoreditch Henry was baptized in 1752, so could not have been 15 in 1775, (he would have been 23) and is unlikely to have been mistaken thus. But the St George in the East Henry was born in 1762, so might have pretended to be 15 (instead of 13), and of course only three years separate his baptism from Conrath’s.

These children are confusing, so let’s put them, all born to a Henry and Sarah Bolton, in a chart. Clearly, given the birth dates these children cannot be born to one couple, and the different locations indicate which children were born to which couple. I wonder if the two couples knew that there was another couple living not far away with the same names. I also wonder if the two Henry Boltons were related.

I bolded the St. George in the East baptisms, along with Conrath’s, as they appear to be “our” Henry and Sarah.

This also fits the family legends, father names Henry, mother named Sarah, lived by London Bridge and was engaged in some sort of business.

Deaths and Burials

We then searched for burials for the father(s) Henry Bolton/Bolten/Boulton between 1757 and 1810 in London area, looking for adults, discarding any born after 1738 (which seemed reasonable, as both Henry marriages above were for widowers) and we noted:

St Sepulchre, Holborn, London
Burial date: 6 Oct 1784
Henry Boulton, Chick Mx Workhouse  48 yrs

—

St Luke, Chelsea, Middlesex
Burial date: 12 Apr 1779
Henry Bolton

—

St Giles in the Fields, London
Burial date: 20 Jan 1762
Henry Bolton, Barn[–]ge Street

—

St Mary’s Lewisham, Kent
Burial date: 21 May 1762
Henry Boulton

None of these shows any obvious connection to the Henrys in whom we are interested.

Wills

We now searched for possible wills for our two possible Henrys, the stocking maker of Shoreditch and the victualler of St George in the East, in the Bank of England Wills Extracts, 1717-1845; the Archdeaconry Court of London Wills Index, 1700-1807; the Surrey & South London Wills & Probate Index, 1470-1856 and the Prerogative Court of Canterbury will index 1750-1800.

In the Prerogative Court of Canterbury we noted Henry Boulton ‘late of London but now of the Island of Antigua, merchant’, written on 3 September 1767, and proved in 1769. He mentioned only his wife, ‘Sarah Boulton, now of Kendal, Westmorland’ and his friends Richard Bush and Walter Wilson of London, merchants and John Shepherd of Antigua, merchant. The fact that this Henry had a wife Sarah is interesting, but he was listed here as a merchant, and this does not tie in very well  at all with the two families we have been following, so appears to be a red herring.

There was also a P.C.C. will for Henry Bolton of Lincolnshire, with no obvious links at all to London. In the Consistory Court of London, we found a will for Henry Bolton of Staines, Middlesex, victualler, proved in 1806. This is in fact the same one whose Inland Revenue abstract Pam had found. We wondered if this was the man from St George in the East, who had moved to the opposite end of the county (but still on the Thames), so we examined it. He had a wife Sarah –but only two children Sarah and Henry William, both under 21, and therefore not matching the family from St George in the East at all.

The majority of the East End falls under the Commissary Court of London, and we do not have access to these will at present due to the lockdown: the search could be made later, in the hope (it could only ever be a hope) that a will for this man could be found, and that some mention would be made in it of sons Henry and Conrath/Condery (etc). However, it would likely be quite a costly search, and the chances of success are low: there is , equally, the distinct possibility that, if a will was found for him and his sons Henry and Conrath had gone abroad, he would simply omit them from his will altogether and leave his estate to family in this country.

Unfortunately, wills were entirely unproductive and not helpful. However, if Henry Bolton, the victualler had a will, I’d LOVE to know what was in it.

Victualler

What is a victualler?

A victualler is traditionally a person who supplies food, beverages and other provisions for the crew of a vessel at sea.

Wow, just wow. This might well explain what Henry and Conrad were doing on the docks in the first place. Perhaps they were running errands for their father, taking food to a ship getting ready to depart. It also explains why Henry Bolton lived in a place called Ship Alley.

A victualler can also be a person that is a landlord of a public house or sells food and alcohol – or both. Perhaps a favorite place of sailors, glad to be ashore.

Remember Pam’s family legend about Henry Bolton’s father having something to do with a shop near London Bridge? Look how close both Tower Bridge (built in 1886, so not existing then) and London Bridge are to Ship’s Alley. The ship wharves then were near where they are today, just along the banks of the Thames, not in the marina at St Katherine which didn’t exist at that time.

The docks at St. Katherines on the Thames were the location in this 1746 map from which Henry and Conrad set sail.

A few years ago, I took this photo, standing at St. Katherine where the ships would have docked, looking at the Tower Bridge with London Bridge in the distance. This view on the water of the Thames may have been the last that Henry and Conrad ever saw of England as they looked back at London Bridge, and their home, as they sailed down the Thames for the sea.

Ok, What About a First Marriage?

Henry of St George in the East remained the favourite candidate. We knew that he was a widower when he married Sarah Corry in 1754, so now we looked for a first marriage for him, and found only one likely marriage that Pam had originally noticed, at the Collegiate Church of St Katherine by the Tower, City of London:

17 December 1752
Henry Bolten bach[elor] to Elizabeth Taylor spin[ster]

That is a nice fit, and of course it was at this same church that Conrath Ditrick Bolton was baptised in 1765. The marriage turns out to have been by a rather uninformative licence, issued by the Peculiar of St Katherine by the Tower:

However, the accompanying marriage, dated 17 December 1752, allegation shows that ‘Henry Botten’ (sic) was of ‘St George in the East, Victualler and Bachelor aged Thirty years’ (and she was 26). That was immensely helpful and helps confirm that this is the right person.

Note that spelling at the time was not standardized.

This starts to tie the threads together very well. A search for any children to this first marriage revealed, at St George in the East, Middlesex:

1 October 1753 [baptised] Martha of Henry Bolten victuallr by Eliz. Ship All[ey]

Eliz: Bolton, Ship All[ey], [buried] 21 June 1754

This convincingly shows Henry’s first marriage, the baptism of a daughter, and the burial of his first wife, probably as a result of childbirth. His first marriage was in the same church as the baptism of what we think was his final child, Conrad, in 1765, and this makes it more likely than ever that his son Henry Frederick Bolton, born and baptised in 1762, was your Henry.

It’s unlikely that Elizabeth died in childbirth, given that her baby was only 8 months old at the time. It’s very unlikely that she would have become immediately pregnant and had a child 8 months later, although she could have miscarried early. The most common causes of death during this time in London for adults were consumption, cough, fever which would be typhus and typhoid, measles and smallpox.

The cemetery that was at one time located by St. George in the East Church is now a garden, with the remaining stones relocated to form a barrier wall.

There are no Bolton stones and only a couple remain from that early. This cemetery clearly held hundreds or thousands of burials over the centuries. The crypt above dates to the 1700s and was there when Henry would have baptized his daughter, then buried his wife and likely his daughter as well.

In 1752 when Henry married, his life looked bright. Ten months later, they welcomed a baby girl. Only another eight months later, Henry would bury his beloved wife. Left with an 8 month old baby, assuming the baby was still alive, what was Henry to do? How could he nurse a child? His life, bathed in grief, no longer looked rosy. We know that burial records are incomplete, but it’s likely that Henry’s daughter died too.

Regardless, Henry married three months and 5 days later to Sarah Corry. Maybe baby Martha hadn’t died after all, at least not when Henry remarried.

Did Henry, the Son, Remain in England?

We wanted now to make sure that this Henry Frederick Bolton could not be found remaining in England. Our searches, taking into account variant spellings, have not revealed any likely fate for him in England. That does not prove anything in itself, but had we found a clear sight of him after 1775, we could have said for sure that the theory was wrong – and that is not the case.

In the course of our research we found a Land Tax record in the name of Hen: Boulton, of St Katharine by the Tower dated 1765, paying 28s rent and with real estate worth £4-13-4.

Henry, the father, also paid land tax there in 1764 and 1766. It is interesting that he does not appear here earlier on (though that may be a limitation of the records, which could be investigated); perhaps he had come by this property by right of his late, first wife (and perhaps on behalf of his daughter Martha) sometime around 1762/4, hence his move here.

As Henry’s last likely location was in St Katherine by the Tower in 1765, we made a search for a burial for him there in the period 1766-1800, but we could not find him. Using indexes covering many of the local burials did not result in a positive find either, so his fate remains unknown.

Baptism for Henry Bolton, the Victualler

We now sought a baptism for Henry the victualler, based on his alleged age of 30 in 1752, which suggested a birth in about 1721/2. One aim here was to see if his mother’s maiden name had been Ditrick or similar.

We found possible baptisms in the London area as follows:

St Botolph without Aldersgate, City of London
17 November 1720
Henry Boulton son of John & Elizh. Boulton

The view below, from Postman Park which was the former churchyard where burials would have occurred.

The baptism at St. Botolph without Aldergate is the closest location to where we know Henry who married Sarah Corry lived.

The second baptism occurred at Wandsworth, Surry, not close.

1725 – 12 September baptized at Wandsworth, Surrey, Henry son of John Bolton

Both these baptisms are, at this stage, from transcripts. The 1720 baptism was likely, as ages at that stage could always be stated inaccurately, and the location was not too far from where our Henry lived.

A search for the parents’ marriage revealed:

St Paul’s Cathedral, City of London
John Boulton of St Botolph Aldersgate and Elizabeth Goaring of St Giles, Cripplegate spinster were married by a licence in thy Cathedral Church ye 3^rd day of November 1713 [etc]

This plan for the floor paving at St. Paul’s Cathedral hails from 1709-1710, so they might well have been married on the new floor in 1713. Would the bride have walked up the long aisle, or would the minister have married they quietly in a private ceremony?

Frankly, I’m stunned that they married in a Cathedral. Why did they select St. Paul’s? Is there a backstory to this? Could just anyone be married in this huge iconic structure?

By Ablakok – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=58117537

This view of St. Pauls Cathedral on Lord Mayor’s Day in 1746 shows what the Thames and Cathedral would have looked like not long after John Bolton and Elizabeth Goaring were married there.

The nave, looking towards the choir.

St. Giles Cripplegate, where Elizabeth Goaring lived, wasn’t far from the Cathedral. I can’t help but wonder how this couple met.

The St. Giles without Cripplegate church was outside the city gate called Cripplegate, shown above in 1650.

St Giles without Cripplegate. “Without” means outside the city gate.

The Cripplegate churchyard about 1830 which also included a “poor ground” where both poor and plague victims were buried, often in mass graves. Earlier, lepers begged by the city gate.

We also searched for possible siblings of the 1720 Henry in the period 1713-1733, without success. Just outside the period, though, we noted:

St George in the East, Middlesex
John S John Bolton Vict. by Bolton, Plow Alley was baptized on 10 June 1739 (18 days old)

That is unlikely to be the couple who married back in 1713, but as a victualler in St George in the East this John could well have been another son of theirs.

I was unable to find Plow Alley today, but I’d love to know where it was located. It may have been one of those tiny nameless pathways we see on the maps. Given the St George of the East location, it’s undoubtedly near Ship Alley. These men would have assuredly known each other and may have been brothers. John too was a victualler.

Baptism for Sarah Corry

We repeated the same exercise for Sarah Corry, the likely mother of our pair, Henry and Conrath, to see if she had a Ditrick mother. In the period 1736-1700 in London, the best we could find was:

St Mary Whitechapel, Middlesex
Sarah Curry, dr of Thomas (Curry) & Monika in Buckle Street, poor was baptized on 16 July 1729

The date and location fit well with what we know of Sarah, so this could be the correct baptism.

St. Mary Whitechapel no longer exists.

The remnant footprint of the church can be seen today in Altab Ali Park.

By ceridwen, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=14002170

Today, you can see the footprint of the church in what was the churchyard from a satellite view.

Some burials were at the church, but an additional burial ground is now beneath the playground of the Davenant Schools.

In 1633, behind the burial yards, “filthie cottages” and alley extended for almost half a mile beyond Whitechapel Church into “the common field.” Fields like this were often used for plague and other mass burials. It’s worth noting that Sarah’s family is labeled as poor, so I wonder if her family lived in one of those “filthie cottages.”

Whitechapel is located just north of the area where Henry Bolton is found.

Buckle Street, about 200 feet long, still exists today.

A Clandestine Marriage!

A search for the marriage of Thomas and Monika Curry, Sarah’s parents revealed that ‘Thomas Corry per[ri]wigmaker & Monika Demazares of ye parish of Stepney’ were married on 6 February 1724 by Mr. Evans, one of the ministers at the time performing clandestine marriages in London.

A clandestine marriage? Wow!

According to wiki:

“Clandestine” marriages were those that had an element of secrecy to them: perhaps they took place away from a home parish, and without either banns or marriage licence.

It is often asserted, mistakenly, that under English law of this period a marriage could be recognized as valid if each spouse had simply expressed (to each other) an unconditional consent to their marriage. While, with few local exceptions, earlier Christian marriages across Europe were by mutual consent, declaration of intention to marry and upon the subsequent physical union of the parties, in 1563 the Council of Trent, twenty-fourth session, required that a valid marriage must be performed by a priest before two witnesses. By the 18th century, the earlier form of consent-based marriages (“common-law marriages” in modern terms) were the exception. Nearly all marriages in England, including the “irregular” and “clandestine” ones, were performed by ordained clergy.

The Marriage Duty Act 1695 put an end to irregular marriages at parochial churches by penalizing clergymen who married couples without banns or licence. By a legal quirk, however, clergymen operating in the Fleet could not effectively be proceeded against, and the clandestine marriage business there carried on. In the 1740s, over half of all London weddings were taking place in the environs of the Fleet Prison. The majority of Fleet marriages were for honest purposes, when couples simply wanted to get married quickly or at low cost.

Was this marriage clandestine because one party was a Huguenot or a class difference, the parents didn’t consent, or the bride was underage? Was something else in play, and if so, what? Or maybe they just wanted to get married without any muss or fuss, quickly and cheaply.

Apparently this clandestine marriage made it into the official records, as opposed to many that did not. Mr. Evans records appear to have been from Fleet Prison or nearby.

It’s interesting to note that one of John Evans marriages was for a “boy about 18 years of age and the bride about 65.” I did not find Thomas Corry and Monika Demarazes in the Fleet records themselves, so Mr. Evans either married them elsewhere or their records are not in this set.

It appears that Thomas and Monika may have married at or near the Fleet Prison. Not exactly your typical wedding destination. Maybe this was equivalent to an elopement of that timeframe.

Reportedly, many of the Fleet marriages were performed in the houses or shops nearby.

Periwigs

So Thomas Corry was a periwigmaker. What were periwigs and what did they look like?

This print is titled “Five Orders of Periwigs” dated 1761.

Wig is the shortened form of periwig, which Wikipedia described thus:

After the fall of the Western Roman Empire, the use of wigs fell into disuse in the West for a thousand years until they were revived in the 16th century as a means of compensating for hair loss or improving one’s personal appearance. They also served a practical purpose: the unhygienic conditions of the time meant that hair attracted head lice, a problem that could be much reduced if natural hair were shaved and replaced with a more easily de-loused artificial hairpiece. Fur hoods were also used in a similar preventive fashion.

Perukes or periwigs for men were introduced into the English-speaking world with other French styles when Charles II was restored to the throne in 1660, following a lengthy exile in France. These wigs were shoulder-length or longer, imitating the long hair that had become fashionable among men since the 1620s. Their use soon became popular in the English court. The London diarist Samuel Pepys recorded the day in 1665 that a barber had shaved his head and that he tried on his new periwig for the first time, but in a year of plague he was uneasy about wearing it:

3rd September 1665: Up, and put on my coloured silk suit, very fine, and my new periwig, bought a good while since, but darst not wear it because the plague was in Westminster when I bought it. And it is a wonder what will be the fashion after the plague is done as to periwigs, for nobody will dare to buy any haire for fear of the infection? That it had been cut off the heads of people dead of the plague.

Wigs were not without other drawbacks, as Pepys noted on March 27, 1663:

I did go to the Swan; and there sent for Jervas my old periwig-maker and he did bring me a periwig; but it was full of nits, so as I was troubled to see it (it being his old fault) and did send him to make it clean.

With wigs virtually obligatory garb for men with social rank, wigmakers gained considerable prestige. A wigmakers’ guild was established in France in 1665, a development soon copied elsewhere in Europe. Their job was a skilled one as 17th century wigs were extraordinarily elaborate, covering the back and shoulders and flowing down the chest; not surprisingly, they were also extremely heavy and often uncomfortable to wear. Such wigs were expensive to produce. The best examples were made from natural human hair. The hair of horses and goats was often used as a cheaper alternative

Wigsmade by Thomas Corry in the 1700s would have worn by the aristocratic, probably not the wigmakers themselves.

It’s interesting that Stepney, where both bride and groom appear to have lived, wasn’t really part of London at this time. They would have had to make their way to town, several miles.

You can see the farming village of Stepney, surrounded by fields. Whitechapel borders Stepney Green and the road at the end of town is noted in this 1792 map.

In Stepney, St. Dunstan’s church was built in the year 952 and is known as the “Mother Church of the East End.” This is likely the church where Thomas’s family attended. I wonder if Monika’s family lived here or elsewhere. I’d wager that they lived in the Huguenot area, not in Stepney.

The nursery rhyme memorializes St. Dunstan’s church in the veribage:

“When will that be? Say the bells of Stepney,” those bells cast in neighboring Whitechapel Bell Foundry.

The Stepney churchyard where church parishioners are buried.

Historically, St Dunstans was long associated with the sea, registering British maritime births, marriages and deaths. They were also responsible for mitigating the poverty of the people in the area. Almshouses built in 1695 provided housing for retired sailors. This area was reached in ships sailing up the Thames before they reached London proper.

Of course, today, Stepney is simply a portion of London.

According to Anthony:

That is a likely fit, and this couple were very likely your ancestors. Further research may later prove it. But for now, it was a pity that Monika’s surname had not been Ditrick, as this would have helped to tie things together nicely.

But Ditirnick Had to Come from Someplace?

Finally in this round, we made a search for that curious combination of names, ‘Conrath Ditirnick’, and were most interested to find a burial as follows:

Whitechapel, Middlesex

Conrad Detrick was buried on 12 June 1766, aged 60.

We found a will for this man in the Prerogative Court of Canterbury, of the same year date named Conrad Dieterick, in the PCC.

He was of St Mary Whitechapel and did not state an occupation. He mentioned his wife Mary and daughter Ann Kopilt. The will was written on 5 May 1764, before witnesses Solomon de Meza and Isaac de Meza, and was proved on 17 June 1766.

A search for his marriage, in case his wife was, say, a Bolton, revealed a marriage bond marriage bond from the Bishop of London for ‘Conrad Diderick of the Parish of Saint Matthew Bethnall Green … Sugar Baker, and [name not filled in] dated 11 April 1755. Further down it gives Conrad Diderick as a bachelor and names his soon-to-be spouse as Mary Copdeild, widow.

The associated marriage allegation, dated 11 April 1755, says that Conrad was ’30 years & upwards’  – and considerably upwards, in this case, but that is not unusual.

There is a likely remarriage for Conrad’s widow Mary Dieterick, widow, to John Asteroth at St Katherine by the Tower, City of London on 28 February 1767. That places the family convincingly in the very parish in which your ‘Conrath’ was baptised in 1765.

We have not found a baptism for Conrad Detrick, but there is a burial:

St John’s, Wapping, Middlesex
[died of] fever, Conrade Diederick, rode macher, Neighingale L[ane], buried 25 June 1738

That is likely the burial of the father of the 1706-1766 Conrad.

These results suggest strongly that, despite the garbled spellings, ‘Conrath Ditrick’ Bolton, who was baptised at St Katherine by the Tower in 1765, was named after Conrad Ditrick (or similar), an East End sugar baker who died the year after he was baptised, and his widow then remarried in St Katherine by the Tower in 1767. Conrad’s will was witnessed by Jews, but he seems to have been German or Dutch (and Christian) so he was presumably part of the east End immigrant community of the time, just like the witnesses, and probably just like Monika Demazares, who we think was probably Conrad Ditrick Bolton’s maternal grandmother. There may have been a blood connection and further research might reveal this – or the families may simply have been very friendly.

This very interesting article about Ship Alley includes a map of the numerous “sugar houses” in this area in the 1800s, including one just a few feet away, on the square at the end of Ship Alley.

Of course, Conrade Diederick, road maker, might be related to either Henry Bolton or Sarah Curry/Corry. Perhaps the next round of research will shed light on this question.

Pam Makes a Final Discovery

After Pam received Anthony’s research report, she went to work herself and found the baptism of Monique Demazure, a Protestant French Huguenot in London, in 1705, the daughter of Guillam, a barber, and his wife, Marie who were both Huguenots.

Barbers at that time performed different tasks than barbers today.

Barbers in the 1600s and 1700s didn’t just cut hair and shave people, but also performed bloodlettings, popular and believed beneficial in that era, cuppings, tooth extractions and amputations. If that just made you cringe, me too.

At that time, physicians didn’t perform much surgery. If it had to do with cutting and blades, you went to the barber. Barbers marched with soldiers into war.

I have to tell you, this bloodletting equipment makes me feel, well, creepy, for lack of a better word, and a big queezy. Apparently I’m not the only one.

By Heikenwaelder – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=77861556

This patient looks none too happy. Im amazed that they didn’t die of blood poisoning, or maybe they did.

Come to think of it, it’s also amazing that the barber didn’t contract whatever was ailing his patients.

Huguenots

It’s likely that Guillam and Monique were either Huguenot immigrants to London or children of immigrants.

In 1550, in England, King Edward VI signed a charter granting freedom of worship to Protestant foreigners from France, Wallonia and the Netherlands. French Huguenots began to worship at the St. Anthony of Threadneedle Street church after 1560. The primary Huguenot rebellions accompanied by the French massacres of the Huguenots began in earnest in 1562 and lasted until 1598.

Beginning in 1681, 40,000 to 50,000 Huguenot refugees settled in England, although 8,000-10,000 had arrived prior to 1681.

The church on Threadneedle Street conducted services according to the reformed Calvinist churches on the European continent.

Collections were taken and funds created to assist the poor refugees who arrived with little or nothing. Fortunately, most Huguenots were skilled with a craft or trade that afforded them a living after getting settled in.

The French Protestant church has been twice destroyed, once in the great fire of 1666 and again in the 1893. Today, the pastors still speak French in this church.

It appears that the earliest Huguenot church was actually located in what is now 8 and 9 Soho Gardens.

CC BY-SA 3.0, https://en.wikipedia.org/w/index.php?curid=16852657

St. Anne’s Court in Soho in the early 1900s, just a couple blocks away from the original location of the Huguenot church.

Unbeknownst to me, I visited Carnaby Street in the Soho area of London, now just called Soho, in 1970 – just a few blocks away from where my Huguenot ancestors lived for at least two generations. They would have walked the streets I walked, but I had no idea at the time.

Born in the “Hospital”

I found an additional record of Monique Demazure, registered as a male, clearly an error, baptized on March 25, 1704. This would have been the old style years. This baptism took place in the Chapel of the Hospital, Spitalfields, Middlesex, England, religion; Walloon and French Protestant.

Spitalfield Life tells us that a hospital then didn’t mean what a hospital means today.

“Hospital: The church owned premises near Grey Eagle and Black Eagle Streets, Spitalfields, commonly known as “l’Hopital”, in fact the site of “les maisons des poures hommes et fammes” (FCL, MS 51, 4 June 1665) which were essentially homes for old people. The land on which stood the “Hospital” buildings was used for the site of a second church in 1687, “1’Eglise de l’Hopital”. One of the quartiers was also known as “l’Hopital”. Consequently the word in this context may mean one of three things, the homes, the quartier, or (from 1687) the church; the context normally makes it plain which is meant.”

The best-known church was “L’Eglise Protestant” in Threadneedle St in the City of London, it dealt with the first wave of refugees by building an annexe, “L’Eglise de l’Hôpital,” in Brick Lane on the corner of Fournier St. This opened in 1743, sixty years after a temporary wooden shack was first built there (1683,)

A “hospital” in that timeframe was more of a refuge for travelers or refugees, such as the order of the Knights Hospitaller.

Therefore, based on this information, it appears that Monique was born in a wooden shack on the corner of Brick Lane and Fournier Street, probably home to several poor refugee families.

Here’s a wonderful article about the Huguenots of Spitalfields in which we learn that many were weavers, textile or silk workers.

Today, the Brick Lane Mosque occupies the brick building build in 1743 that replaced the wooden shack where Monique was born.

By Bobulous – Own work, CC BY-SA 4.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=84470828

After being a Protestant Chapel, this building became a Jewish Synagogue, then a Mosque in the 1970s. Waves of immigrants.

Given that Monique was baptized in 1705, her mother could have been born anytime between 1660 and 1685, probably in France. If not, then this family would have been first-generation immigrants. Perhaps death or other records can be found that will provide a connection back to a location in France, and to their parents who may have immigrated with them – assuming they survived the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre in 1572 and the next 100 years in exile. Nope, records are probably very unlikely.

Once the massacres began in France, preservation and eventually, escape was the only thing on the minds of the Huguenots. I shudder to think about the scars on the people who survived to remember.

After 100+ years of persecution, the Huguenots were probably just relieved to be out, and alive. Most had likely lost beloved family members across many generations. Those scars assuredly ran deep and influenced their descendants for generations to come.

I’m sorry that none of their stories descend to us today. Perhaps they were too horrible to recount.

Where Are We?

Anthony tells us that at the end of this round of research, the evidence is as presented, but reminds us that there is little certainty. Likely connections are revealed, but not proof. Hopefully proof will be forthcoming in the next report in a few months, but I’d settle for a preponderance of evidence where more than 50% of the evidence points towards a specific conclusion, and nothing eliminates the possibility.

I normally don’t combine multiple ancestors into one article, but since this information is heavily suggestive but not confirmed, I have combined all of this research, for now. Anthony and Pam’s work flows together cohesively, which I felt was the best way to provide information for the following probable ancestors, in summary:

• Henry Frederick Bolton, ancestor #45, the child born August 1, 1762 to Henry Bolton and Sarah Corry, kidnapped in 1775 and sold into indentured servitude in Maryland. It must have been devastating for the brothers, Henry and Conrad, to be separated from their parents at such a young age. I wonder if their parents ever knew what happened to them, if they were able to at least write a letter to let them know. Henry was just 13 and Conrad 10.
• Conderith Dieterich Bolton, Henry’s brother, born February 18, 1765, kidnapped in 1775.
• Henry Bolton, the father, a victualler, ancestor #294 – born November 17, 1729 to John Bolton and Elizabeth Goaring, died sometime after 1765/1766. Married Sarah Corry September 26, 1754 as his second wife. Had 6 children, 5 with Sarah and a daughter with his first wife, Elizabeth Taylor. These records confirm the truth of several family legends and dispell others.
• Sarah Corry, the mother, ancestor #295 – born July 19, 1729, daughter of Thomas Curry and Monika Demazores, died after 1765. Had 5 children; 2 were kidnapped, 2 died, 1 may have still been living at age 15 when Henry and Conrad were kidnapped. Otherwise, Sarah was left with no children. Regardless, she would have been heartbroken when Henry and Conrad failed to return home.
• John Bolton, ancestor #296, and Elizabeth Goaring, ancestor #297, parents of Henry Bolton, married on November 3, 1713. Deaths, parents and additional children unknown.
• Thomas Curry, ancestor #298, born before 1705, father to Sarah Corry. Married on February 6, 1724 to Monique Demazares, parents and death unknown.
• Monique Demazares, ancestor #299, mother to Sarah Curry, born March 25, 1704/1705 to Guillam and Marie Demazares. Monique/Monika married in 1724 to Thomas Curry and died unknown.
• Guillam Demazares, ancestor #300, Huguenot born before 1685, probably in France, married Marie, ancestor #310, whose surname is unknown, sometime before 1704/1705. They were the parents of Minique Demazares. Marie could have been anyplace from about 20 to 45 when Monique was born, so Marie’s birth year could range from 1660 to 1685.

The lives of these ancestors have provided us with a fascinating glimpse into historic, immigrant London at the end of the Medieval period and the beginning of the Renaissance. For out ancestors, little about court life affected them. Their lives were center around food, survival and clearly, churches.

My Visit

Not knowing that Henry Bolton, his family and ancestors had lived in London’s east end, in particular so close to St. Katherine by the Tower, I visited this area in 2016 because by other ancestors, also impoverished refugees, several German Protestant 1709ers, lived in the equivalent of a squalid tent-city at St. Katherine’s.

Henry Bolton the child wouldn’t have yet been alive then, but his father, John Bolton lived just a few blocks away in St Botolph Aldergate and would have been quite aware of these pathetic new arrivals lodged down by the waterfront. You can read about that visit, and see pictures, here.

I realized I was walking in my ancestors footsteps, meaning the 1709ers who eventually set sail for the colonies. What I didn’t know was that the dust of my ancestors for generations was strewn throughout this land, and those ancestors had trod exactly where I stood. Perhaps their spirits were welcoming me back that day. I wish I had known then what I know now. So close, but so far away.

_____________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• FamilyTreeDNA – Y, mitochondrial and autosomal DNA testing
• MyHeritage DNA – ancestry autosomal DNA only, not health
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload – transfer your results from other vendors free
• AncestryDNA – autosomal DNA only
• 23andMe Ancestry – autosomal DNA only, no Health
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Products and Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder – genealogy software for your computer
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial
• Legacy Family Tree Webinars – genealogy and DNA classes, subscription-based, some free
• Legacy Family Tree Software – genealogy software for your computer
• Charting Companion – Charts and Reports to use with your genealogy software or FamilySearch

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists – professional genealogy research

Fun DNA Stuff

• Celebrate DNA – customized DNA themed t-shirts, bags and other items

We don’t know exactly when Johann Theobald Koob was born, but we think it was about 1670, most likely in or near Fussgoenheim, Germany. This means he probably married sometime between 1695 and 1700.

My friend Christoph purchased a book about the history of Fussgoenheim. In this book, we discover that Johann Dietrich Koob was Mayor of Fussgoenheim in 1730.

Interestingly, another Koob family member, Hand Nikel Kob (Johann Nicolaus Koob) was the mayor in 1701. This man was surely related to Johann Dietrich, although the relationship is uncertain.

Even more interesting, perhaps, is that in 1528 Lorenz Kob was mayor. Koob is often spelled Kob and Coob. In 1480 Debalt Kalbe was mayor. Is Kalbe another form of Koob? I’m guessing yes, but there’s no way to know.

What we can discern from these records is that the Koob family was living in this village for at least 200 years by the time that Johann Dieterich arrived on the scene, if not longer. This is stroke of unbelievable luck, because this area was entirely depopulated and abandoned during the Thirty Years’ War from about 1618 to 1648, with few of the original residents returning to their former homes – assuming they survived. The fact that we can place the surname, which I’m presuming means the same family, in Fussgoenheim before that war is an amazing stroke of fortune.

In 1700, the entire village consisted of 150-200 residents, or 30-40 houses, so the village had never been large – just group of German farmhouses clustered together. If we extrapolate that the population doubled in each generation, then the population in 1650, after the war, would have been maybe 7-10 families.  After families returned, it still wasn’t smooth sailing because there were two more invasions by French soldiers in 1674 and beginning in 1688 that took a heavy toll.

Two hundred years equates to about 8 generations. This means that these early Koob men living in Fussgoenheim in the 1500s were Catholics, given that the Reformation occurred in 1534. The Protestant Lutheran church in Fussgoenheim existed by 1600 and was probably the original Catholic church building. The current church was rebuilt in the late 1720s or early 1730s, sometime before 1733.

Fussgoenheim church records don’t exist before 1726. Aside from this list of mayors, the little we do know about Johann Dietrich Koob’s life comes from the records having to do with his children.

Four Children

We know that Johann Dieterich Koob (or Kob), Dieter as he was called, had at least 4 children, all born before the church records begin. He probably had more. We have to surmise their birth order and approximate ages based on their marriages.

• Johann Theobald Koob was married on February 21, 1730 to Maria Catharina Kirsch.
• Maria Catharina Koob married Johann Matthaus Sahler (or Saller) in Fussgoenheim on April 21, 1733.
• Johann Simon Koob married next. The actual translation is important.

Marriage: the 22nd of November 1735 were married the unmarried Simon Kob, legitimate son of the late Dieterich Kob, former mayor with the young lady, Margaretha Renner, legitimate daughter of the honorable Martin Renner, local citizen.  Married after the wedding homily: Gen 2 18.

This marriage records tells us that Johann Dieterich Koob has died, but he was apparently still living in 1733 when Maria Catharina married.

Three years before, the Fussgoenheim church records state that:

January 14, 1731, a son of Johann Georg Spanier and his wife, child named Johann Simon, was baptized and the godparents were the son of Mr. Dietrick Koob, local mayor and Anna Margaretha, Johann Martin Renner’s daughter from here.

This record doesn’t indicate “late.”

• George Heinrich Koob, the fourth child, was married in 1736.

Marriage: the 17th of January 1736 were married in the local church, he honorable young bachelor, Georg Henrich Kob, legitimate son of the late Dieter Kob(in), mayor of the exalted free county Hallberg with Anna Margaretha Kirsch(in), legitimate daughter of the late Wilhelm Kirsch, former member of the court.  The wedding homily was 1 Timothy…….?

Anna Margareta Kirsch was the sister of Maria Catharina Kirsch who married George Henrich’s brother in 1730.

It’s from these records that we discern that “Dieter” was a mayor, and roughly when he died. It’s sad that he was only able to be present for his older two childrens’ marriages.

I’m glad to see that Dieter had three sons because that means there’s a possibility that a Koob male exists today – descended directly from Johann Dietrich and carrying the Koob surname and associated Y chromosome. Y DNA is passed from father to son. By testing the Y chromosome, we can look even further back in time to determine where the Koob line may have come from – before Fussgoenheim. If you’re a Koob male from this line, I have a Y DNA testing scholarship for you. Just leave a comment or give me a shout.

Gone too Soon

Dieter’s burial record is recorded in the Fussgoenheim church books.

Burial: 21 November 1734 midday between noon and 1 p.m. died Herr Johann Dieterich Kob former mayor here and was buried on the 23^rd of the same (month). Funeral Text: 2 Cos. V ? 1…

This record reveals that he died on November 21^st and was buried on November 23^rd. His time of death is noted as after noon. That day was a Sunday. Unfortunately, the record doesn’t give his age, but the burial record of his wife, a few months later, gives hers.

Burial: the 20^th of April 1735 in the afternoon between 3 and 4 p.m. died, the widow of the mayor, Anna Catharina Kob(in), aged 60 years.  Funeral Tex …..

Anna Catharina was only 60, so born about 1675. She may have been a little younger than Johann Dietrich Koob, but probably not a lot. He apparently died when he was about 60-65 as well.

Funeral Sermon Invokes Courage

I love it when the reverend records the funeral text. This allows me to read what was said, and with a bit of imagination, to close my eyes and see what might have transpired that cool fall day in the Lutheran church that smelled of fresh-hewn wood, sporting a new white steeple, nestled in the little village of Fussgoenheim, beneath the mountains, in Germany.

2 Corinthians 5:1,6-10

We have an everlasting home in heaven.

2 Corinthians 5:1,6-10

A Reading from the Second Letter of Paul to the Corinthians.

We know that if our earthly dwelling, a tent, should be destroyed, we have a building from God, a Dwelling not made with hands, eternal in heaven. So we are always courageous, although we know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, for we walk by faith, not by sight. Yet we are courageous, and we would rather leave the body and go home to the Lord. Therefore, we aspire to please him, whether we are at home or away. For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive recompense, according to what he did in the body, whether good or evil.

This passage speaks of courage.

Courage

Dieter was mayor of Fussgoenheim in 1730. We don’t know when he became Mayor. Most of the information we find about occupations are from various church records where that information is sometimes, and sometimes not, included, almost as an afterthought.

We know that in 1701, he wasn’t Mayor, but Hans Nikel Koob was. Johann Dieter Koob was a young man in 1701, most likely just married.

Born about 1670, his childhood would have been filled with memories of invading French troops and devastation. He probably lived through the destruction of their home, possibly more than once.

While the Thirty Years’ War ended before he was born, there was more devastation in store for the families who lived in this area.

In 1674, this area was again ravaged by Louis VIV’s armies.

In 1688, the French King sent nearly 50,000 men with instructions “that the Palatinate should be made a desert.” His commander gave the half million residents 3 days notice that they must leave their homes, causing thousands to die of cold and hunger. Many who survived became beggars on the streets of other European cities. Again France devastated the area.

During the War of the Grand Alliance from 1689-1697, the French troops under Louis XIV, ravaged the Palatinate, again.

In 1707, another French army did the same. By now, every castle on the Rhine had been destroyed. The French occupied the Palatinate for a year, sending anything of value back to the coffers of King Louis XIV.

This would have either broken Dieter, or strengthened him with incredible resolve – and yes – courage. His trials were not yet over. In fact, one might say, they were just beginning.

In 1728, Jakob Tilman von Hallberg initially obtained half of the village through noble inheritance becoming the feudal lord. Then, on September 14, 1728, he acquired the entire village.

In 1729, Hallberg began a resurvey of the land, ostensibly in order to understand the relationship of the residents to each other, and how taxes were to be charged. Some land was privately owned, but most was not. However, the “resurvey” whittled the privately owned land via inheritance down to approximately one third of the originally sized farms by redividing property and building new roads. This left some fields disconnected from their owner’s property, and Hallberg then considered them abandoned and confiscated them for himself.

The history of the village of Fussgoenheim tells us that according to the land survey, the district of Fußgönheim comprised at that time 2,869 3/4 acres of land, 95 % of which were in the possession of clergymen or of certain masters or were communal property. Only 146 3/4 acres were owned by private persons. According to the renovation protocol, Hallberg had 386 acres of land as his own property. This would be the so-called “abandoned property” confiscated by him.

The village population was probably about the same as it had been in 1700, so about 30-40 homes total.

Private owners averaged about 15 acres each, but the resurvey shrank their farms to 4.67 acres, on average.

I don’t know how the villagers and Dieter felt about Hallberg in 1728, but surely in 1729 when it was noticed that he was “cheating” by having shortened the measure of the rod he was using to resurvey the properties, concern followed by unrest would have built gradually among men’s conversations at the local tavern or after church, then burst open like a seed pod in summer.

The situation grew increasingly difficult.

Another dispute arose over the community’s sheep pasture, the lease of which had brought the community an annual income of 100 gulden. Hallberg claimed the pasture for himself in a letter of feudal title dated July 30, 1728. The residents, on the other hand, referred to their “old rights.” The dispute ended in 1733 with a compromise: Hallberg got the sheep pasture under the condition that not too many sheep graze on it.

Another accusation against Hallberg was that he had transferred the tithe income of middle-class farms. In Fußgönheim there were three bourgeois courts which had a share of the tithe income.

Hallberg withdrew this income on the grounds that the owners refused to contribute to the costs of building the Lutheran Church.

The lucrative “Weinschank,” i.e. the right to run a wine tavern, was auctioned by Hallberg for 120 gulden annually; before that it was free.

Hallberg also introduced a new levy of 15 Malcer oats to be paid annually to his magistrate.

In the face of massive resistance from the community, Hallberg had the village siezed for two months by a corporal and six men. When the inhabitants refused to pay 71 guldens every 114 days for their accommodation, he had 7 cattle, 1 cow, clothes, guns, and household goods taken away without further ado and auctioned them off in Worms.

Later documentation accuses the next Mayor, Johann Michael Kirsch of instigating riots and civil unrest. In 1743, the village jurors refused to sign the resurvey and Dieter’s son, Johann Theobald Koob, among them, was expelled from the village from 1744 to 1753.

It took courage to stand up against the lord. It was a battle that peasants, even comparatively wealthy farmers, as compared to serfs, probably couldn’t win.

Given that Dieter would have been about 60 in 1730, and died 4 years later, I can’t help but wonder if the stress of the David vs Goliath war with Hallberg contributed to an untimely death. I also wonder about worse.

Courage, indeed. These times tested his mettle at a level we can’t even imagine today. Confiscation of land was no idle threat, with the memory of 4 separate events that resulted in horrific devastation to the residents from 1618 through 1798 fresh in everyone’s minds. There was no question that the threat of losing everything was all too real. Yet, these brave German men persisted in the face of unwinnable odds.

Dieter died in the midst of this battle, but his son, Johann Theobald continued the fight. Against all odds, the Koob family was allowed to return to Fussgoenheim, triumphant, in 1753, although we don’t know what happened to Dieter’s original land. His battle had not been in vain. I’d wager his son, Theobald, visited his grave to have a celebatory glass of wine.

The Future

Life would change dramatically for Dieter’s descendants after at least a few decades of relative peace. In 1792, the feudal government disintegrated and a new form of government emerged with the French once again in charge until 1816 when this part of Germany was freed from the French. At that time, Andreas Koob, Dieter’s great-grandson, became the first mayor of Fussgoenheim in 18 years and German would once again become the official language.

More Koob men would follow in Dieter’s footsteps as Mayor of Fussgoenheim. He apparently started a tradition.

Not the End

While Johann Dietrich Koob is the earliest Koob ancestor that I can currently document in Fussgoenheim, he was neither the end, nor the beginning.

We know positively that generations preceded him in Fussgoenheim. Based on the baptismal record for his son’s child, it’s unlikely that Johann Nicholas Koob, an earlier mayor, was Dieter’s father, but we can’t rule that out at this point entirely. However, it’s possible that Mayor Koob was raising Dieter if something had happened to his parents amidst the preceding warfare.

It’s likely that Lorenz Kob, Mayor in 1528 was our ancestor too. He was assuredly a relative, even if not a direct ancestor.

It’s probable that Debalt Kalbe was really Koob in 1480 as well.

The Koob legacy in Fussgoenheim and this part of Germany reaches back hundreds of years in time.

It also reaches forward in time. Three Koob men, all his descendants, would follow in Dieter’s footsteps as Mayor, one immediately after the French occupation, shepherding the citizens through that difficult time into a new era.

• Andreas Koob was the first mayor after the French occupation ended in 1816.
• Johann Dieterich Koob was Mayor from 1830 to 1834, Dieter’s namesake great-grandson.
• Jakob Koob III, Mayor 1900-1909, built the current town hall, the Rathaus in German, that still stands on the main corner of Fussgoenheim.

We are fortunate to have a photo of Jakob, the Mayor who took office in 1909.

We have no way of knowing, of course, what Johann Dieter Koob looked like, but with the generations of intermarriage and gene-sharing within the small community, it wouldn’t be a huge stretch to look at Jakob Koob III, the Mayor in 1909, and surmise that he at least resembled his Koob ancestors somewhat.

Jacob Koob IIII was Dieter’s 4 times great-grandson and married Anna Margaretha Koob.

Do we see the shadow of Johann Dietrich Koob when looking at Jacob III or Anna Margaretha?

_____________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• FamilyTreeDNA– Y, mitochondrial and autosomal DNA testing
• MyHeritage DNA– ancestry autosomal DNA only, not health
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload– transfer your results from other vendors free
• AncestryDNA– autosomal DNA only
• 23andMe Ancestry– autosomal DNA only, no Health
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Products and Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder– genealogy software for your computer
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial
• Legacy Family Tree Webinars– genealogy and DNA classes, subscription based, some free
• Legacy Family Tree Software– genealogy software for your computer
• Charting Companion– Charts and Reports to use with your genealogy software or FamilySearch

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists– professional genealogy research

Maria Catharina Kirsch was born about 1710 to Johann Wilhelm Kirsch and Anna Maria Borstler (or Boerstler). We don’t have her actual birth record, because Fussgoenheim records prior to 1726 are missing. We are assuming she was born in Fussgoenheim because that’s where the Kirsch family was from, but that might not have been the case.

Her parents were married on February 22, 1695, in Bad Dürkheim.

Walter Schnebel, a now-deceased local historian, notes that her parents were both godparents in Oggersheim in 1710. I can’t tell you how much I wish I had access to Walter’s original records and work.

Oggersheim was about 5 miles away from Fussgoenheim. Social and family connections were maintained throughout this part of Germany. It appears that the left bank of the Rhine was a vibrant, interconnected microcosm of its own.

Even without records, we can reconstruct some of Maria Catharina’s family based on baptismal records where the names of the godparents’ parents are provided.

We also have christening records of some of Maria Catharina’s siblings.

The first record that provides information about Maria Catharina is her sister’s confirmation in Fussgoenheim in 1727, followed by Maria Catharina’s other siblings in 1729 and 1731. Confirmations in the Lutheran church occurred generally sometime between the child’s age of 11 and 13.

Maria Catharina’s confirmation is missing. The Fussgoenheim church records begin in 1726. Therefore, we can infer, based on that information, plus her marriage date, that Maria Catharina was born about 1711, or perhaps slightly earlier.

Maria Catharina Kirsch married Johann Theobald Koob, spelled Coob in her marriage record, on February 21, 1730, in Fussgoenheim.

Translations courtesy of my friends Tom and Christoph.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild74, Fussgönheim Evangelical Church Records, Archion.de

Marriage: Year 1730

On the 21st of February 1730: Joh. Theobald Coob from here with Maria Catharina Kirsch(in) were married.

This record would be suggestive of Maria Catharina’s birth about 1710, or maybe a year or two earlier. She had a child in 1750, so she probably wasn’t born before 1707. Let’s bracket her birth between 1707 and 1711.

While this record doesn’t provide us with the names of Maria Catharina’s parents, later records about her siblings do.

Her sister, Anna Margaretha was married to George Heinrich Koob in 1736, the brother of Maria Catharina’s husband, Johann Theobald Koob. So Koob brothers married Kirsch sisters. No wonder I’m constantly confused when sorting out these village families.

At Maria Catharina’s sister’s wedding, the minister noted that the sermon was from 1 Timothy. If ministers then were like ministers today, they probably had favorite or appropriate scriptures and sermons for every type of event.

It’s not unlikely that Maria Catharina’s wedding sermon was also from first Timothy, so let’s see what it says.

From the book, “Sermons on Special Occasions such as Weddings, Funerals and Dedications” by Carl Wilhelm Walther, a Lutheran pastor, translated from original German publications between 1876 and 1892, we find:

Based on that sermon, it’s amazing that they had children at all, but thankfully, they did.

Children

We’ve managed to find records for 8 of Maria Catharina’s children. There must surely have been more. Records are incomplete for Fussgoenheim during this time.

Maria Catharina’s first child, Susanna Elisabetha Koob, arrived and was baptized on June 17, 1731 in Fussgoenheim.

Johann Andreas Kirsch was the godfather of Susanna Elisabetha. Additionally, the widow of the late Mayor Koob, Anna Elisabetha, for whom the child was named, served as godmother.

Because an elderly widow clearly would not have been expected to raise this child if something happened to her parents, that honor would have fallen to Johann Andreas Kirsch. He was Maria Catharina’s first cousin, born to Johann Jacob Kirsch. Maria Catharina’s father was Johann Wilhelm Kirsch. Their common grandparents were Johann Georg (Jerg) Kirsch and Margaretha Koch, founders of the Kirsch family in Fussgoenheim.

Susanna Elisabetha Koob married Elias Nicolaus Kirsch about 1762. The couple lived in Fussgoenheim. She died sometime after 1776 and before 1798. Fussgoenheim experienced a record gap between those years.

In 1733, Maria Catharina Kirsch’s son Emanual Koob was born and baptized on May 26^th. This time, Johann Michael Kirsch and his wife, Anna Margaretha were godparents.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild18, Archion.de

Given that there were three Johann Michael Kirschs, all 3 with wives of the same name, we can’t be sure who the godparents were. Since it doesn’t say “judge,” “elder,” or “mayor,” we might presume this is Johann Michael Kirsch, the baker, and his wife, but that’s just a guess.

In 1763, Emanual stood as godfather when his older sister’s son, also named Emanual, was baptized.

In 1761, Emanual married Margaretha Elisabetha Renner in Schauernheim, eventually having 2 boys and a girl. His death is recorded in the Dannstadt church records on June 1, 1805.

Three years later, on April 20, 1736, a new daughter, Maria Catharina Koob was baptized. Her grandmother, Maria Kirsch(in), widow, was the godmother.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild24 Archion.de

While grandmother could mean on either side, Maria Catharina’s mother was named Anna Maria, and would have been called Maria, while Johann Theobald Koob’s mother was named Anna Catharina.

Maria Catharina’s father had already passed away by this time.

About 1764, Maria Catharina Koob married Andreas Kirsch, son of Johann Georg Kirsch and Anna Margaretha Hartmann.

Another son, named for his father, Johann Theobald Koob, arrived on August 24^th, 1738, and was baptized 5 days later.

On Feburary 11, 1766, he married Catharina Barbara Wassa in Schauernheim. They had 6 children, the last one in March of 1775. Two were known to have survived to marry. Johann Theobald died before 1778 by which time his widow had remarried.

Maria Catharina Kirsch’s family was growing, and so far, every child seems to have lived.

Unfortunately, their run of good luck came to an abrupt end in 1740 when a newborn daughter died.

Perhaps this child’s birth was difficult. Perhaps the cord wrapped around the baby’s neck. Maybe the baby was born prematurely. One thing is for sure, Maria Catharina called for her mother who was present at the birth of this baby, and a few hours later, at the baby’s death as well.

I’m sure mother and daughter wrapped their arms around each other to ease their pain, probably cradling the baby between them as she passed. I’ve been that mother.

I wish the reverend would have recorded the baby’s name. The family assuredly remembered her as something other than “the baby that died in 1740.”

Should I give her an honorary name today?

I don’t know if it’s proper or not, and I won’t record it as such, but I’m posthumously naming her Barbara, in honor of my mother.

That child was not anonymous.

Catholicism was replaced with the Protestant faith in this part of Germany two hundred years before, after the Reformation in 1534. A protestant church existed here as early as 1600 and likely before. Still, in 1740, the concept that a baby needed to be baptized immediately, especially if they were weak and might pass away was something that remained of or had been incorporated from the Catholic faith and tenets.

Soon, Maria Catharina was pregnant again and son, Johann Dieter Koob, probably short for Johann Dieterich or Diederich arrived almost exactly a year later on September 30, 1741.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild32, Archion.de

While his older brothers seemed to remain in the Dannstadt area, Johann Dieter lived in Fusgoenheim, passing away on December 19, 1816. He married a cousin who shared all four of his grandparents, Maria Katharina Koob, daughter of Georg Heinrich Koob and Anna Margaretha Kirsch.

On June 21, 1742, Johann Theobald Koob and Maria Catharina stand as godparents for the child, Johann Theobald Kirsch, son of Johann Michael Kirsch, the Mayor, and his wife, Maria Magdalena Michet. Johann Michael Kirsch, also my ancestor along with his first wife, was a first cousin to Maria Catharina Kirsch.

Silence

But then, silence for Maria Catharina Kirsch. Well, at least until 1746.

This would normally cause me to believe that the church records were missing during this time, at least for this family.

It’s true that Maria Catharina was missing IN the records, but that’s because the family was missing from the village, along with most of the other Fussgoenheim families as well.

We are now entering a time of high drama!

Expelled!!!

Trouble had been brewing on the home front.

In 1743, numerous families were evicted from Fussgoenheim as punishment for standing up for their rights against an evil and unscrupulous “lord,” Jakob Tilman von Hallberg. He attempted, almost successfully, to strip the residents of their land. Johann Theobald Koob, along with several others, was jailed for 14 days, then evicted, along with his family.

They must have hated that man. He did his best to destroy them.

Many Kirsch family members were among those cast out, as was Maria Catharina, although in her case, it was because her husband refused to sign Hallberg’s fraudulent land survey, not because she was a Kirsch.

Still, her father, then deceased, and brother would have been hereditary landowners, presumably from Maria Catharina’s grandfather, Jerg Kirsch who died before 1695. The last mention we find of Maria Catharina’s mother is in that 1740 record when unnamed daughter died.

Fortunately, not for Maria Catharina, but for me as a genealogist, there are a few sparse clues about Maria’s Catharina’s family from records generated during and after the 1743 kerfuffle and eviction.

The Map

A 1743 map shows the various Kirsch and Koob properties. Maria Catharina Kirsch and Johann Theobald Koob owned two different properties.

A property belonging to the widow of Johann Michael Kirsch is shown, so we know that if a widow was still living, she would have been shown on the map, indicating interest in the property owned by her deceased husband.

A property is shown with the name Wilhelm Kirsch, just south of the church at the top of the map, above, but Maria Catharina’s father was noted by Walter as deceased before 1723. Therefore, if Maria Catharina’s mother was still living, she surely would likely have been shown as a widow – although there are some properties that are owned by someone with a Kirsch surname that we can’t read.

The Wilhelm Kirsch residence by the protestant church could have been Maria Catharina’s father’s property, but there are two other Johann Wilhelm Kirschs that were grandsons of Jerg Kirsch. It’s possible that Maria Catharina Kirsch did have a brother Johann Wilhelm that we aren’t aware of, given that we only know of three siblings for Maria Catharina. However, Walter Schnebel had access to the 1753 property accounting that resulted from the 1743 evictions, and he did not ascribe a brother by that name to Maria Catharina.

We don’t know exactly which house Maria Catharina grew up in, but she certainly didn’t move far when she married – just down the street.

Homeless

What happened to Maria Catharina when she and her small children were so ruthlessly evicted from their home; their possessions – even their clothes – confiscated?

She must have been terrified while her husband, Johann Theobald Koob, was jailed, along with several other cousins and neighbors. What would happen? What would become of them? Had Johann Theobald perhaps already sent his family to stay with relatives, just in case something beyond just bad happened?

We have no way of knowing if Hallberg had previously threatened eviction. If so, was it perceived as a hollow threat? Or, did he spring that on them as a way of negotiating their release from jail? That would be an evil choice to have to make. I wish we knew more.

There was no “due process” as we perceive it today in the US. Monarchs and nobility ruled at that time. Period. It’s actually amazing that these citizens had the gumption to stand up to Hallberg, at all – and they paid dearly.

In 1743, Maria Catharina had 5 living children, the oldest being 12, the youngest about 2. She was very probably pregnant for another child who was likely born in late 1743 or perhaps early 1744 – possibly while her husband was jailed. That would have been perceived as a lever by Hallberg, but knowing Germans, it would likely only have angered Johann Theobald Koob, and made his resolve even stronger.

So not only was her husband jailed, and the family evicted, but she was heavily pregnant and giving birth someplace in the midst of all that upheaval. There’s no church record, so apparently, she did not give birth in Fussgoenheim or the record is missing.

We also don’t know when Maria Catharina’s mother died, but it was likely sometime between 1740 when her child died and 1743 when the map was drawn. It was assuredly before 1753 when the accounting took place, because Maria Catharina’s mother was not mentioned.

It must have seemed to Maria Catharina, only in her early 30s, that the world was ending, and indeed, it was, as she knew it.

As farmers in a German village, their entire livelihood was dependent on access to their land – that tiny strip shown behind their homes.

You can still see that field today, pointed to by the red arrows. Their field likely stopped at the green arrow, which is the local stream. But it’s possible that they also farmed some land on the other side of the creek as well.

That barn today with the black roof located sideways to the other buildings spans the entire width of both 11 Hauptstrasse and 13 Hauptstrasse, so it’s likely two property widths wide as is the field behind that is entirely brown.

The Hallberg survey reduced landowners from about 15 acres each to an average of 4.67 acres each, a huge reduction.

Without land, they would become serfs, indentured servants, nearly slaves, in another village that would offer them shelter in exchange for their servitude. No one wanted poor people to tax the municipality, so everyone had to be able to offer something useful.

Hallberg knew this and was gambling that they would not be willing to take that risk.

He was wrong. If Germans are anything, they are tenacious. Not only didn’t they simply capitulate, they waged war, for decades.

Being evicted in Germany during this time wasn’t just a matter of moving next door and setting up shop.  This was a severe threat, and then an action, with incredible consequences.

And clearly, they couldn’t, and certainly didn’t want to go anyplace where Hallberg was in charge.

They couldn’t stay. Where did they go and what did they do?

Weissenheim am Sand

We find no records of Maria Catharina and family until a baptism pops up in Weisenheim am Sand for Johann Matheus Koob.

January 16, 1746, a son, Johann Matheus, parents Johann Theobald Koob and wife, Maria Catharina. Godparents Johann Matheus Sahler and wife, Maria Cath.

The Koobs had a history of intermarriage with the Sahler family.

Johann Matheus Koob would eventually become a leaseholder of the Munchhof estate that his father hadn’t yet purchased when he was born. Johann Matheus married there to Katharina Margaretha Becker in about 1775, having three children. Matheus died on January 3, 1816, probably at Munchhof – the burial record in the Dannstadt church books.

Johann Theobald Koob was related to Johann Dieter Koob, the customs collector in Weissenheim am Sand. Johann Dieter and his wife Maria Kunigunda were the godparents of their son, Johann Dieter Koob, the baby baptized in Fussgoenheim in October 1741.

We don’t know for sure, but Johann Theobald Koob and Johann Dieter Koob, the customs collector were probably first cousins.

In any case, they were clearly close, because Johann Dieter and his wife served as godparents for Johann Theobald and Maria Catharina’s baby in Fussgoenheim.

We have to speculate a bit at this point, but since we find Johann Theobald Koob noted as living in Weissenheim am Sand in 1746 when Johann Matheus was baptized and in 1748 when he purchased a leasehold share of Münchhof – we have to imagine that Maria Catharina and family sought and received shelter with their cousins in Weissenheim am Sand.

We find Maria Catharina Kirsch and Johann Theobald Koob in the records again in 1748, when Johann Theobald purchased a portion of the farm estate of Münchhof, south of Dannstadt.

Maria Catharina probably had a child in 1743, 1745 and possibly 1748. When children lived, births occurred every 2 years, and when a baby died, the next birth was generally about 12 months later. Based on this, we might surmise that perhaps the 1745 baby passed away – or at least one child, if not more, during this timeframe.

Sometime in 1748, the family moved to the large farm, Münchhof, owned by the University of Heidelberg, having purchased the right hereditarily to lease one-quarter of the farm in perpetuity. In fact, Koob descendants still live on part of that farm today.

I don’t know exactly how Johann Theobald Koob earned a living in Fussgoenheim. Without further information, we’ll have to presume he was a farmer. We know positively that beginning in 1748, the family was farming at Münchhof.

We catch up with Maria Catharina in the baptism records of Dannstadt on the 5th of December, 1750 when she had her last child Johannes Koob. He went on to marry Maria Katharina Kloos. They lived in Fussoenheim where he died on January 28, 1833.

No further baptisms tell us that Maria Catharina was probably 42 or 43 by this time.

Maria Catharina’s life seems to be divided into 5-year segments.  Married for a dozen years, then evicted in 1743, apparently to Weissenheim am Sand before moving to Münchhof in 1748.

Munchhof

I wondered how Maria Catharina and Johann Theobald even heard about a portion of the Munchhof even being for sale. Weisenheim am Sand is more than 12 miles distant. However, there’s a potential hint in the Dannstadt church records. Maria Catharina’s mother was Anna Maria Borstler, daughter of Johann Adam Borstler. The Schauernheim church records tell us that one Hans Michael Borstler died in 1724 and is noted as being the Munchhofpachter, or Munchhof leaseholder. His eldest son, Johannes born in 1684 married Maria Margaretha Koob in 1724 in Dannstadt. A Borstler is also recorded in Fussgoenheim in 1717, so there seems to be some continuity between these families and locations.

Return to Fussgoenheim?

Finally, in 1753, Johann Theobald Koob and Maria Catharina Kirsch and family were allowed to return to Fussgoenheim.

I don’t know how that decision would have been made. Was the home in Fussgoenheim nicer or life easier there than at Münchhof? It was clearly less remote.

Or, did they return as a matter of principle, given that they had fought Hallberg since his 1729 fictitious survey? That hard-won victory took 24 years, nearly a quarter of a century.

How could they NOT go back after all that? It’s also possible that if they didn’t return, they would forfeit some of their rights.

Regardless of why, they probably did return to Fussgoenheim where we find records for some of Maria Catharina’s children. Johann Theobald, her husband is mentioned as a citizen of Fussgoenheim in 1766.

What Happened to Maria Catharina’s Children?

Maria Catharina’s children seem to have been scattered between the places that she had lived. Fortunately, they were close enough that she was probably able to see them, at least from time to time.

Maria Catharina’s oldest child, my ancestor Susanna Elisabetha Koob married her double first Kirsch/Koob cousin, Elias Nikolaus Kirsch in 1763 and lived her life in Fussgoenheim. We don’t know when she died other than it was after 1776 when Fussgoenheim records no longer exist, and before the records began to be kept again in 1798.

It appears that the eldest son, Emanual Koob, remained at Münchhof, because he married in Schauernheim in 1760 to Margaretha Elisabetha Renner, had 3 children, 2 sons and a daughter, and died in Dannstadt on June 1, 1805.

Daughter Maria Catharina Koob married Andreas Kirsch in 1764 and lived her life in Fussgoenheim, dying there on December 10, 1807. They had 8 children, Johann Dieter in 1764, Catharina Margaretha in 1765 who married Jacob Holzwarch, Maria Catharina, Anna Barbara who married both Christoph See and Friedrich See, Maria Catharina, Susanna Margaretha, Maria Catharina and Andreas. Only 2 of those children are known to have lived.

Johann Theobald Koob also married in Schauernheim in 1766 to Katharina Barbara Wassa and died before 1778, leaving her a young widow with children.

Johann Dieter Koob married Maria Katharina Koob in about 1773 and died in Fussgoenheim on December 8, 1816.

Johann Matheus Koob, listed as a leaseholder at the Munchhof, married about 1775 and, according to the Dannstadt church books, died on January 3, 1816, probably on the Munchhof estate.

Maria Catharina’s youngest child, Johannes Koob married Maria Katharina Kloos about 1762 and died in Fussgoenheim on January 28, 1833.

Two of these children, daughters Susanna Elisabetha Koob and Maria Catharina Koob would have passed the mitochondrial DNA of Maria Catharina Kirsch to their offspring. Only females pass it on. If someone today descends from one of these daughters through all females to the current generation, which can be male, I have a mitochondrial DNA testing scholarship for you. Maria Catharina Kirsch’s mitochondrial DNA will allow us to peer back in time before surnames in Fussgoenheim, hopefully pointing us to earlier generations as well.

The Final Goodbye

We don’t know when Maria Catharina said her final goodbye.

The last sighting of Maria Catharina is on September 30, 1772 when her daughter Susanna Elisabeth Koob and husband Elias Nicolaus Kirsch had a daughter. Maria Catharina and Johann Theobald Koob, the court member, were godparents. The baby was baptised at home, the same day, in the house due to weakness and subsequently died.

The Fussgoenheim records are absent beginning in 1776 and don’t resume until 1798, so Maria Catharina died sometime after 1775, assuming the records are complete until that time. Six granddaughters were named for her, but we know that she stood by their graves and buried at least three of her namesake granddaughters.

At least she would have been able to enjoy several of her 25 known grandchildren, playing in the street and fields of Fussgoenheim and Munchhof.

It’s likely that both Maria Catharina Kirsch and Johann Theobald Koob are buried in the churchyard in Fussgoenheim, across the fields they so ardently defended for a quarter century – finally reclaiming their home and small farm from the greedy hands of the Hallberg dynasty.

Maria Catharina would be pleased to know that their efforts were not in vain. The Fussgoenheim property remained in the hands of the Koob family for the next 200 years or so, on the main street, just across the street and down the block from the church.

Hallberg castle, built about 1740, as seen across the fields in top two photos. Lutheran Church bottom left and store on corner, bottom right.

In fact, so did Munchhof which still remains in the Koob family today. In the 1966 photo below, the Koob home on the Munchhof estate is the house located at the furthest right with the VW beetle parked in front.

It was this home that Johann Theobald Koob had purchased in 1748, along with tenant rights to the land, and where Maria Catharina raised her children, at least for several years. It’s this land that was passed down to their children and descendants to present day – 272 years later.

In 1801, the Munchhof property was damaged during the French occupation, but we don’t know to what extent or how the Koob home fared.

Drawing courtesy the Koob family and Ralph Shuey.

The Koob home on the Munchhof took a direct hit by a bomb in 1942, but was subsequently rebuilt on the same foundation. This drawing depicts the original home as it looked before the bombing. Assuming this was the original building on this land in 1748, this home provided sheltering arms folding around this family – a secure respite to Maria Cathariana Kirsch, her husband and children after two decades of terror, angst and uncertainty.

_____________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• FamilyTreeDNA – Y, mitochondrial and autosomal DNA testing
• MyHeritage DNA – ancestry autosomal DNA only, not health
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload – transfer your results from other vendors free
• AncestryDNA – autosomal DNA only
• 23andMe Ancestry – autosomal DNA only, no Health
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Products and Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder – genealogy software for your computer
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial
• Legacy Family Tree Webinars – genealogy and DNA classes, subscription-based, some free
• Legacy Family Tree Software – genealogy software for your computer
• Charting Companion – Charts and Reports to use with your genealogy software or FamilySearch

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists – professional genealogy research

Johann Theobald Koob was born about 1705, probably in Fussgoenheim, Germany, to Johann Dietrich Koob and Anna Catharina, surname unknown.

The first record of Johann Theobald Koob is when he served as godfather for the Renner family in Fussgoenheim.

Baptism:

21 November 1728

Child: Anna Maria

Parents: Johann Jacob Renner and Helena, his lawfully wed wife

Godparents: Johann Theobald Kob, unmarried from Fussgonheim and Anna Maria Sachs(in).

This wasn’t the only interaction with the Renner family, and mark my words, they were related somehow.

Married in Fussgoenheim

In February of 1730, Johann Theobald Koob married Maria Catharina Kirsch.

Pfalz: Zentralarchiv der Evang. Kirche > Speyer > Fußgönheim > Taufen, Trauungen, Bestattungen, Sonstiges 1726-1798, Bild 74, www.archion.de

Marriage: 21 Feb 1730

Joh. Theobald Coob from here with Maria Catharina Kirch(in) were married.

Koob is spelled variously as Koob, Coob and Kob in the early church records.

Johann Theobald’s parents both attended his wedding in the quaint Lutheran church on the cobblestone street, probably sitting alongside his siblings. We know his parents were still living, because we find his father’s burial record in those same church records in November 1734 and his mother’s just a few months later, in April of 1735.

That must have been a very tough year.

Children Bless the Couple

Johann Theobald Koob and Maria Catharina Kirsch welcomed their first-born child, a daughter, Susanna Elisabetha, on June 17, 1731. How joyful they must have been when baptizing their beautiful baby girl. Three of the four grandparents celebrated with them that June Sunday, exactly 289 years ago today, as I write this article. This is an incredibly important day for me, because Susanna Elisabetha is my 4^th great-grandmother.

Happy 289^th birthday Susanna Elisabetha!!! Part of you is still here!

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild14(1), Fussgönheim Evangelical Church Records, Archion.de

Baptism: 17 June 1731

Parents: Joh. Theobald KOOB and his wife, Maria Catharina, a daughter was baptized and named:

Susanna Elisabeth

Godparents: Johann Andreas Kirsch & Anna Elisabeth, widow of the late mayor  Koob.

We can glean so much information from the godparents. These people weren’t selected randomly, and it wasn’t just an honorary position. On the contrary, it was well-thought-out.

The godparents were expected to raise this child, attending to their education, both traditional and secular, in the event that something happened to the parents. An equivalent today would be selecting your children’s adoptive parents and designating them at the birth of your children. Godparents promised to perform these duties before the village, in front of both families, the reverend, the congregation, and more importantly, before God.

If you think about it, it’s a wonderful tradition that assures that every child in a family is cared for if the parents die without placing the entire burden of several children on one family member. In a small village, the children would only live a few houses apart and could still see each other and interact regularly.

Based on Fussgoenheim history, Anna Elisabetha, the widow godmother, is probably the widow of Johann Nicolaus Koob, the former mayor. She’s clearly related to the family, but exactly how is unknown. We do know that Johann Nicolaus Koob has a son, Johann Dietrich Koob, the same name as Johann Theobald’s father, but he married Maria Kinigunda Sahler in 1728. Therefore, if Anna Elisabeth is Johann Nicolaus Koob’s widow, she is not Johann Theobald’s grandmother.

The widow Anna Elisabeth may be his aunt or great-aunt or related another way, or both. Her name may also have been Susanna Elisabetha. In a future record, the child Susanna Elisabetha baptized that day is called Anna Elisabetha – probably after her godmother.

Two years later, Johann Theobald Koob’s first son, Emanuel Koob, joined the family.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild18, Fussgönheim Evangelical Church Records, Archion.de

Baptism: 26 May 1733

Parents: Joh. Theobald Koob and his wife, Maria Katharina, a son was baptized and named: Emanuel

Godparents: Joh. Michael Kirsch and his wife, Anna Margaretha.

In 1763, Emanual stood as godfather when his older sister’s son, also named Emanual, was baptized.

By 1771, Emanual was godfather for his younger brother Johann Theobald Koob and his wife, Catharina Barbara when they baptized a son named Emanual. In this record, Emanual is noted as being from Münchhof near Danstatt, which proves to be an important clue.

In 1736, daughter, Maria Catharina, named for her grandmother, joined the family.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild24, Fussgönheim Evangelical Church Records, Archion.de

Baptism: 20 April 1736

Parents: Johann Theobald Kob & wife Maria Cath.

A daughter was baptized and named: Maria Catharina

Godparent: the grandmother, Maria Kirsch(in), widow

Born: 16 April 1736

Baptized: 20 April 1736

Entry No. 29

In 1738, a son with the same name as his father was born. Interestingly enough, the godparents were from Frankenthal, about 7 and a half miles away, and the child is not named after the godparents, which is typical.

It looks like perhaps their son, Johann Theobald is too young to actually be a godparent, so they stood with him? Perhaps Johann Theobald Koob was the younger Johann Theobald Welker’s godfather. This would suggest some type of family relationship.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild27, Fussgönheim Evangelical Church Records, Archion.de

Baptism: Entry No. 66

Parents: Johann Theobald Kob, the juror and his wife, Maria Catharina a son named: Johann Theob(ald) was baptized

Godparents: the honorable Georg Henrich Welcker, butcher and innkeeper in Frankthal and his wife, Maria Ernstina with son Johann Theobald, formerly confirmed at S. ……..?

Born: 24 August 1738 at 8 a.m.

Baptized: 29 August 1738

In this record, Johann Theobald was referred to as a juror. I asked my two friends, Tom and Christoph, what being a juror meant at that time in Fussgoenheim. Their answer was that while neither are experts on that specific topic, their understanding is that jurors would be respected men within the community who would perhaps adjudicate non-criminal disputes and disagreements.

Two years later, things didn’t go well in 1740.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild30, Fussgönheim Evangelical Church Records, Archion.de

Baptism: Entry 108

Parents: Johann Theobald Kob, juror and wife, Maria Catharina, a daughter on the 14th of October 1740 was born and because of weakness so she was baptized immediately in the home.  Godparents were the mother’s side, the grandmother Maria. But the child is deceased in a few hours.

Sadly, this baby wasn’t named, or if she was, the reverend didn’t record her name. It seems so sad to think of a tiny, nameless, anonymous grave.

The next child, Johann Dieter, arrived almost exactly a year later. Of course, Johann Dietrich Koob is Johann Theobald’s father’s name.

Taufen__Trauungen__Bestattungen__Sonstiges_1726-1798_Bild32, Fussgönheim Evangelical Church Records, Archion.de

Baptism: Entry 111

Parents: Theobald Kob and his wife, Maria Catharina, a son Johann Dieter

Godparents: Johann Dieter Kob, customs collector in Weiss……?and wife Maria Kunigunda

Born 30 Sept 1741          Baptized:8 October 1741

Weissenheim am Sand is a village about 7 miles directly north of Fussgoenheim and Weissenheim am Berg is about the same distance west of Weissenheim am Sand.

This too proves to be a hint that will help tie things together, later.

In 1767, Johann Dieter Koob, unmarried, stood as godfather for his brother, Johann Theobald Koob’s child, named Johann Diederich, of course. This confirms that Dieter and Diederich are synonymous. Dieter is likely a nickname.

Johann Theobald Koob and Maria Catharina Kirsch’s last child, Johannes, arrived just before Christmas in 1750, but not before a massive upheaval that’s not revealed in the church records.

It was by tracking this family through and after that upheaval that I found another child, born in 1746 elsewhere…and baptized in exile.

Let’s just say it was an incredibly long time between 1741 and 1750.

Upheaval

There are several years missing in the births of children, with a noticeable gap between 1741 and 1750. That’s because Johann Theobald’s life was turned upside-down in 1743.

Politics in Germany was ever-present and seemingly, always dangerous. In 1729, Jakob Tilman von Hallberg, a member of the House of Hallberg who had acquired half of Fussgoenheim in 1728, followed shortly thereafter by the second half, undertook a village survey in which the roads were redrawn and the area redivided. The result was that the villagers lost two-thirds of their hereditary land, with Hallberg personally absorbing the rest that was left “abandoned” by the resurvey.

Johann Theobald Koob was one of several jurors or village elders, noted as judges in a German to English translation, who refused to sign the survey book. As punishment, Hallberg had them expelled from Fussgoenheim after first being jailed for two weeks. The Kirsch family went to Ellerstadt as serfs.

It’s unclear where Johann Theobald Koob and Maria Katharina Kirsch went, at least for several years.

We do find a baptism for another son in Weissenheim am Sand.

Baptism: Johann Matheus, parents Johann Theobald Koob and Maria Catharina. Koob on January 16, 1746. Godparents Johann Matheus Sahler and Maria Cath.

However, based on a baptism for Johann Theobald Koob’s son in 1750, it would appear that Johann Theobald Koob was in Münchhof by that time where he had some sort of hereditary ownership.

It’s likely that Johann Theobald Koob had children in 1742, 1744 and 1748 as well, but we simply don’t have those records.

The 1750 baptism record reveals such important information.

Baptism: No. 188

Born 5 December 1750

Baptized 8th of same (month) in Münchhof +

Child: Johannes

Parents: Johann Theobald Kob, hereditary owner in Münchhof and his wife.

Godparents: Johannes Lammert, innkeeper in the Lamb’s Inn in Mutterstadt and wife, Maria Margaretha Weisin.

This record, from archion.de is part of the Dannstadt churchbook, not Fussgoenheim.

It’s interesting that in 1750 Johann Thoebald Koob is living in Münchhof.

Oh, what a tangled web is genealogy.

Mutterstadt

The Lammert/Lemmert family in Mutterstadt is known to me.

Three generations later, Johann Theobald Koob’s great-grandson, Philip Jacob Kirsch would be born in Fussgoenheim in 1806. He would marry Katharina Barbara Lemmert in 1829 in Mutterstadt. This couple, my ancestors, would immigrate to Ripley County, Indiana about 20 years later, the founding members of the Kirsch line there.

By the time Philip Jacob Kirsch married Katharina Barbara Lemmert, these families had apparently known each other for generations.

But what about Münchhof?

Münchhof

Johann Theobald Koob may have been spitefully evicted from Fussgoenheim in 1743, but he was apparently not poor. He didn’t entirely disappear. We do find him in Weissenheim am Sand in 1746 and mentioned again as being from there in 1748 when he resurfaces in Münchhof.

According to the journal, Pennsylvania Folklife” (1966), Volume 16, page 41, available here, we discover that in 1748, Daniel Jouis, as lessee, sells one quarter of the property, Münchhof, to Theobald Koob of Weisenheim am Sand.

While this article by Dr. Krebs is focused on the Jouis family, it handily answers several questions about Theobald Koob.

We now know where he went in 1743 after he was evicted from Fussgoenheim. He had family in Weissenheim am Sand, as evidenced from the 1741 baptism of his child, so he went there.

Five years later, when it may have seemed improbable that he would ever be allowed to return to Fussgoenheim, he purchased a quarter lessee ownership of Münchhof and moved to this large farm, owned by the University of Heidelberg, with his family.

Word that this quarter of the Münchhof estate was available for purchase, as a lessee, must have traveled by word of mouth. Johann Theobald Koob’s relative was the tax collector in Weissenheim am Sand, so he would probably have been aware of these types of opportunities. We also find early Koob families in Schauernheim and Dannstadt, just north of Münchhof.

Münchhof wasn’t exactly next door to Weissenheim am Sand, but it was fairly close to Fussgoenheim and family members seem to have been scattered throughout this part of the Palatinate – fertile lowlands east of the Rhine.

Münchhof is close to Fussgoenheim, about three and a half miles away. It would have been easy for them to see their family members in Fussgoenheim while remaining a persistent thorn in the side of Hallberg.

A gazetteer documenting all German locations from 1871-1918 shows Munchhof.

We can use this map to find the location of Munchhof today, matching up landmarks and roads that have retained their original shape.

Based on the google map legend the area below looks to be about 4 or 5 acres, roughly.

One quarter square mile is 1320X1320 feet and holds 160 acres, so the original Munchhof would have encompassed roughly this land, the house marked by Dells Tierwelt.

Dr. Krebs who wrote that 1966 article even went so far as to drive out to Münchhof and take these photos for his article. I’m thrilled!

The amazing thing about these estates is that they changed very little over time and Münchhof probably looked almost exactly like it did in 1748 – 212 years earlier – minus the cars and modern farm equipment of course. There is documentation of some destruction in 1807, but whatever damage incurred was clearly repaired.

Münchhof still exists today as a location that breeds dogs.

Fortunately, the current owners cared enough to document the history of Munchoff, here.

I used the Deepl translator to translate, below.

Our Münchhof

In 1987 we bought the “Münchhof”, which has been part of the Dannstadt community since 1797.

I’m so very grateful that they included this photo from 1985 which shows a different perspective than the 1965 photo.

The following transcript was taken from “Heimatblätter für Ludwigshafen am Rhein und Umgebung, Jg.7, 1918, No. 4

The Münchhof at Dannstadt.

The Münchhof is located about 5 minutes away from the parish village Dannstadt at the Speyerer Straße. Already the name indicates that we are dealing with a monastery estate. In the Middle Ages, half of Dannstadt was spiritual property.

In 804 the Münchhof comprised 128 acres of land, which belonged to the Kindergut.

Note that 128 acres of land was about the entire size of the village of Fussgoenheim in 1743.

The farm, which was founded at an unknown time, probably came into existence in 987 through a donation by Count Otto of Rhine-Franconia to the Benedictine and later Dominican monastery Lambrecht in the Haardtwald, which he had founded at that time. In the beginning “one” farmer – later there were several – owned the Münchhof from Lambrecht Monastery as part of his inheritance; he held the title ” Münchmeister.”

I absolutely cannot help but chuckle. This means that Johann Theobald Koob was a Munchmeister, or at least one quarter Munchmeister. Of course, in German, meister means master, so the farmer who was leasing this property was indeed the master of the hof, or farm.

In 1331, Ludwig the Bavarian pledged the Speyergau bailiwick to the sons of his brother Rudolf, the Palatine Counts Rudolf 2nd and Ruprecht 1st, for 1000 pounds heller.

When the influence of the Reformation became noticeable, Elector Friedrich 2 obtained permission from the Pope to confiscate and abolish the Lambrecht Monastery and 11 others and to transfer their income to the Heidelberg College in 1551. Thus the Münchhof fell to the University of Heidelberg.

In 1563, a settlement was reached between the university and Elector Friedrich 3, who granted St. Lambrecht and the Münchhof free of encumbrances. A large part of the other monasteries that had been confiscated were ceded by the university to the Elector, but in this way she had cleverly evaded the sovereign’s easements on the estates. The Münchhof had now become a free court. From this time on it was under the administration of the Heidelberg university conductor and the electoral administration there. However, this special position was a source of incessant friction between the courtiers and the aforementioned village court.

The Peace of Luneville in 1801 made the left bank of the Rhine French. Napoleon used the opportunity to smash the property. In 1807 the Münchhof in Mainz was auctioned off as a so-called national property.

Understanding the size of Münchhof helps put this purchase into perspective. Even if Johann Theobald Koob only purchased access to one quarter of the 128 acres, assuming it was still the same size, that means he farmed 32 acres and lived on the property, which was probably functionally the same as a small village. Compare and contrast this to the small farms in Fussgoenheim that were originally about 15 acres each, but reduced to an average of 4.67 after Hallberg’s resurvey.

Based on records from Fussgoenheim, we know that Johann Theobald Koob was still a citizen in Fussgoenheim in 1766. It’s possible that he was living at Münchhof, but I’d think those records would have mentioned that.

I couldn’t help but wonder what happened to Münchhof.

It appears that Johann Theobald’s oldest son, Emanual, inherited his father’s lease rights to Münchhof. In 1771, when he stands as godparent for his sibling’s child, he is noted as being from Munchoff. The torch has apparently passed. This record may be the closest thing we have to a death record for Johann Theobald.

It’s possible that Johann Theobald Koob actually died at Münchhof, not in Fussgoenheim. We don’t know if he loved being at Münchhof, or if it was simply a safehaven when he needed one – retaining it later as an investment. Did he stay there, or was he relieved to move back to Fussgoenheim in 1753.

Münchhof apparently became a hereditary legacy in the Koob family, because an agricultural journal published in 1876, 128 years after Johann Theobald Koob purchased that quarter, mentions a “Jakob Koob, economist on the Münchhof”:

Using 30 years per generation, that’s between 4 and 5 generations later. Johann Theobald Koob was likely the great-great or three times great-grandfather of that Jakob Koob of 1876. I wonder if he had any idea what had happened to his ancestor, Johann Theobald Koob, in 1743, why and how Münchhof came to be in the Koob family.

Contacting a local historian reveals that members of the Koob family still live on part of it’s land, not associated with the dog breeding business.

Return to Fussgoenheim

In 1753, von Hallberg was forced to allow the evicted Fussgoenheim families to return to their hereditary properties in the village. Based on this 1743 map, we know exactly which properties Johann Theobald Koob owned.

Given that this maps showed land owned hereditarily in the north half of the village, we can see that Johann Theobald Koob owned two properties, probably inherited from his father.

This property still existed in the 1940s, and the Kirsch and Koob families still lived adjacent.

The Kirsch property is noted with the X, and the Koob with the O. This photo was sent by descendants living in these houses during WWII to relatives in Indiana.

The properties are marked in this photo as well, which I’d wager is a victory celebration of some sort on the main street of Fussgoenheim, almost 200 years after Johann Theobald Koob had his own sweet victory of return.

Today, you can see this part of Fussgoenheim on Google maps, which correlates to the 1743 map and the 1940s photos.

The upper Koob property is shown, below in a photo taken by my friend, Noel, when she took a detour on her vacation to find my ancestors. I’m incredibly grateful!

I believe, based on the 1743 map and today’s intersection of Hauptstrausse and Ruchheimer streets, that the property on the aerial above, designated by the upper red arrow, to the left of the yellow house, with the brown large door and solar panels is one of Johann Theobald Koob’s properties. It’s probably the same house that still stands.

Whose House Was It?

The Kirsch/Koob photo from the 1940s is of the property designated with the lower arrow, which I wrote about, here.

Marliese’s letters were somewhat confusing. She wrote them as a teen, almost 90 years after these families had immigrated. Her letters are clear about which property was the Kirsch property, because she grew up in that house.

Her references to the house with the O marked over it were believed to have referred to this as the Koehler home at that time. There was confusion within her family, plus the challenges of German to English translation, and the Kirsch, Koehler and Koob families were eventually heavily intermarried. Marliese used a lot of pronouns such as “they” and it was often unclear as to who, exactly, “they” was referring to.

This is going to be hard to follow, so here’s a diagram.

click to enlarge

On this chart, people in red are my ancestors. You can see Johann Theobald Koob at right, with a black box around his name. The people in green are the couple who Marliese believed lived in the house next door before they immigrated – except for one daughter. Marliese and I share the same founding Kirsch, Koob and Koehler ancestors.

Knowing what I know today, after significant research, I am confident that this home was never the Koehler home, and was always the Koob home, in part, because the first record I find of the Koehler family is in Seckenheim, and never in Fussgoenheim. Johann Peter Theobald Koehler lived (1696) and died (1767) in Seckenheim during the same time period that Johann Theobald Koob was living in Fussgoenheim and at Munchhof.

My Koehler line intermarried with the Koob line in Ellerstadt. Margaretha Elisabetha Koehler was born in 1772 in Ellerstadt, married Andreas Kirsch there and moved to Fussgoenheim as his wife. Her father was probably born in Seckenheim, as his parents were born and died there.

If indeed, the Koehler family did eventually own the Koob property, it was after Johann Martin Koehler, Margaretha Elisabetha’s brother, born in 1796 in Ellerstadt married Anna Margaretha Kirsch, the daughter of Andreas Kirsch, in 1821 in Fussgoenheim.

This couple, who are not my ancestors, are shown in the green block. Martin Koehler, according to Marliese, was reported to have had a beautiful singing voice and played in the village orchestra, as well as sang in the choir.

His three surviving sons immigrated to Indiana, and his one surviving daughter married Karl Ritthaler and remained in Fussgoenheim. There are virtually no Koehler church records in Fussgoenheim, including no burial record for Johann Martin Koehler himself. As you can see, he did not marry a Koob directly, but a granddaughter of Susanna Elisabetha Koob, so it’s highly unlikely that he wound up with the Koob property next door to the Kirsch home.

Regardless of the ownership of the Koob property in the later 1800s and into the 1900s, it was clearly owned by Johann Theobald Koob in the 1700s. The Koob and Kirsch families intermarried for generations. They were all related to each other several ways.

Despite the confusion about the identification of the Koob property in the 1940s photos, Marliese’s ancestor, Anna Elisabetha Koehler, born in 1781 in Ellerstadt, married Johann Mathias Koob in 1801 and moved to Fussgoenheim. This is shown at right, in the chart, above. Their daughter married Johannes Kirsch, so even in Marliese’s own family line, no Koehler actually lived next door, but the Koob family clearly did. The Koehlers entered the picture as spouses.

I wonder how long this property actually remained in the Koob family, and what happened to it.

Johann Theobald Koob’s Property Today

Unfortunately, as you can see in this satellite closeup, the Koob home is gone today. replaced by the garden area in front of the building with the checkerboard roof. The original Kirsch property includes the while house at left, the driveway area and the small white building adjacent to the beginning of wall.

Many original structures do remain, so I have to wonder what happened to Johann Theobald Koob’s home.

Here’s a current street view, with the Kirsch home at left.

The wall stands where the Koob home once stood at 11 Hauptstrausse. The double brown gates, below, appear to provide access to where the Koob’s neighbor’s home once stood, and was not the Koob property, at least, not that we know of.

A building, which may or may not be original, stands behind the wall (and the tree) at 11 Hauptstrasse.

The addresses are marked on the fence. The original Kirsch home, to the left, is 9 Hauptstrausse.

Today, a small garden replaces the original Koob home at 11 Hauptstrausse. in the photo above, we are looking directly at Theobald Koob’s property. Below, over the fence at the building shown above.

This Koob property is noted as 11 Haupstrausse on Google maps, as is the small portion of the building still standing to the left of the wall and to the right of the large brown door. It’s hard to align with original properties, especially since German homes are built sharing walls.

However, in the 1940s photos, the Koob home looks to be clearly separate from the Kirsch property, which included his small addition to the right of the brown door.

11 Haupstrasse, where the garden is today, was clearly the Koob property, which includes the building behind, to the left of the van in the photo below. The property to the right looks to have been 13 Hauptstrasse and appears to be used as a driveway currently.

The portion below looks to be the property designated as 13. In 1743, that was not privately owned, because it was not mapped.  I wonder if this was some of the property that Hallberg attempted to confiscate, and if so, who the rightful owners were.

The contemporary photos are all courtesy of my friend, Noel.

When Did Johann Theobald Koob Die?

We don’t know exactly when Johann Theobald Koob passed away, but we do know that on February 11, 1766, when his namesake son, Johann Theobald Koob married Catharina Barbara Wessa(in), daughter of Johann Jacob Wessa, citizen and member of the court in Schauernheim, the groom was named as the son of Johann Theobald Koob, citizen in Fussgoenheim. Had he been deceased at this time, the records would have stated that.

This tells us that Johann Theobald Koob lived through being evicted from his property in Fussgoenheim in 1743, and returned in or after 1753, living long enough to see at least three of his children marry. He welcomed at least two grandchildren, and most likely more.

Johann Theobald probably passed away sometime between 1766 and the 1771 record where his son Emanuel is noted as being from Münchhof, but the records are incomplete and we simply don’t know. The Fussgoenheim records end in 1778. He may have still been alive at that time and died between then and 1798 when the French records began during the French occupation of the Pfalz. If so, he lived long enough to see his homeland invaded and may have been displaced, yet again. If so, there was always Munchhof, a safehaven for the old Munchmeister.

DNA

Unfortunately, it appears that no Koob male has yet taken a Y DNA test. From this test, we could determine where the Koob line came from initally, before Fussgoenheim.

If you are a Koob male descending from this line through all males, please contact me. I have a Y DNA testing scholarship waiting just for you!

_____________________________________________________________

Disclosure

I receive a small contribution when you click on some of the links to vendors in my articles. This does NOT increase the price you pay but helps me to keep the lights on and this informational blog free for everyone. Please click on the links in the articles or to the vendors below if you are purchasing products or DNA testing.

Thank you so much.

DNA Purchases and Free Transfers

• FamilyTreeDNA – Y, mitochondrial and autosomal DNA testing
• MyHeritage DNA – ancestry autosomal DNA only, not health
• MyHeritage DNA plus Health
• MyHeritage FREE DNA file upload – transfer your results from other vendors free
• AncestryDNA – autosomal DNA only
• 23andMe Ancestry – autosomal DNA only, no Health
• 23andMe Ancestry Plus Health
• LivingDNA

Genealogy Products and Services

• MyHeritage FREE Tree Builder – genealogy software for your computer
• MyHeritage Subscription with Free Trial
• Legacy Family Tree Webinars – genealogy and DNA classes, subscription-based, some free
• Legacy Family Tree Software – genealogy software for your computer
• Charting Companion – Charts and Reports to use with your genealogy software or FamilySearch

Genealogy Research

• Legacy Tree Genealogists – professional genealogy research

Hot mid-summer days in Indiana were so stifling that you felt like you were trying to breathe water through a hot, saturated, oppressively heavy blanket. The air was so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Before you even woke up in the morning, you were sweating. Your PJs were already sticking to your skin.

The sun rose, shining on dew-kissed leaves, and before you could even see the rays over the horizon, we were already hustling, trying to get as many of the day’s chores done before the thermometer rose even higher.

The windows were all open, held up by a piece of an old broom handle, but that didn’t matter. It was so hot that even the wind was too overtaxed to put forth the effort to stir.

Our house didn’t have air conditioning. No one did back then. Some stores did, and businesses, but not homes. That was decades away, far in the future.

Mom tried to get a head start on her Avon route on those blistering summer days, delivering quite early to other farm wives who were also up before the roosters, and long before breakfast.

Mom would pack her demonstrator bag with samples the night before. When it was this hot, Mom had to carry the entire heavy bag into each house, because leaving it in the car, even with all of the windows down would melt the lipsticks and ruin the cosmetics in about 2 minutes flat.

Plastic tubes and bottles would melt and warp. Sometimes it was so hot she would put the customer’s orders in a cooler alongside paper milk cartons filled with water and frozen into ice blocks so their purchases wouldn’t overheat and be ruined before she delivered them. She only had one old metal cooler though, so she could only take as many orders as would fit there, or in cardboard boxes, if the contents weren’t in jeopardy from heat.

The Avon order arrived by UPS every other week. Mom would unpack the order and sort the contents of the boxes on the Formica kitchen table. She put each customer’s order in a white Avon paper bag with their name and the amount they owed written on the front, plus an Avon book of course, in case they wanted to order something for the next time.

Those bags with customer orders would be placed into cardboard boxes sorted by the delivery order.

The hotter it was, the more often Mom had to return home, at least until cars had options for air conditioning and she would part with the $$ for that luxury. When Dad bought a car with AC, she never said a word about the cost.

Even after she had AC in the car, she didn’t want to let the car run while she was in someone’s house. No, not because of the danger of theft, but because it wasted gas. Literally, every penny mattered on the farm where a hailstorm could wipe out an entire year’s crop, and income, in the blink of an eye. I remember some of those years all too well.

Automobile theft was non-existent in Hoosier farm country. Heck, everyone knew everyone’s car or truck. No one needed security cameras back then. We had nosey neighbors who knew when everyone came and went. Speaking as a former teenager, trust me on this one😊

That neighborhood security force of church ladies came in handy more than once over the years and saved more than one life too. Farm country was inherently safe, at least in this way.

On this particularly scorching summer day, Dad started working before dawn in the barn. The animals were all hot too, so he made sure to give them all extra fresh, cool, water, pumped straight out of the ground. He ran water for the hogs to be able to wallow in the mud. Sometimes he would take the hose and run it over their bodies so they would feel better.

He was a very soft-hearted farmer.

By the time he finished his morning chores, Dad was done just in time to help Mom load her car with her Avon deliveries.

This particular day, Mom knew it was going to be beastly, so she planned to return home mid-morning for a second box of deliveries. That would give her the opportunity to touch up her makeup, which would surely be running by then, use the bathroom and maybe make a phone call or two to see if people were home before going back out again.

Mom wanted to be finished on the road before lunch. She still needed to cook something for her and Dad to eat – although, on hot Avon days like that, we often had a quick meal like BLTs while sitting in front of the box fan in the kitchen. Of course, iced sweet tea and for the adults, ice coffee was the preferred beverage.

Mom would insist it really wasn’t THAT hot, while the rest of us had rivulets of sweat running down our backs.

But on this miserable day, even Mom wasn’t pooh-poohing the heat – and it was still quite early.

The Basement

The only cool place on that farm was the basement. The basement was called a Hoosier or Michigan basement. Our basement, maybe 15 by 20 feet, or perhaps slightly larger – wasn’t under the entire house. I suspect the original house had been built in the mid-1800s. It was Amish and square. No plumbing, kitchen, central heat, or wiring, of course.

The basement was only beneath the later addition, to the right of the original square house, above, which was built later, but still significantly pre-1950. The basement was old enough that there was no wall on one side – just dirt that receded into a spider-infested shallow crawl space under the rest of the house. There wasn’t enough tea in China to get me to crawl under there. Three sides had very old concrete blocks with two small ground-level windows that didn’t open. At some point, Dad had concrete poured over the dirt floor, facilitating a drain that emptied into a pipe that drained into the little creek down by the barn. I suspect he finished and leveled the concrete himself, because it wasn’t.

We had purchased a used pool table at an auction and played pool down there. It took about 6 men to get it down those stairs and it was never, ever coming out again, I assure you.

Later, Dad somehow rigged up a shower by running a pipe across the ceiling from the outside well by the windmill. It was the only shower in the house, and from that day on, Mom and eventually grandkids were the only ones who took baths instead of showers. In fact, Mom didn’t go down into the basement unless she had to.

That shower had one temperature – cold. Eventually, we got tepid warm too. That was a red-letter day!

Soap sat in a wire soap dish on a wooden crate along with a shampoo bottle. You carried your washcloth and towel up and down the stairs with you. There were no sides to the shower. You just stood in the corner of the basement in all of your birthday-suit glory and washed quickly.

My brother lived under threat of immediate and certain death if he DARED to come down to the basement or go anyplace near those windows when I was showering.

Of course, to a brother, that was simply an invitation to cause trouble. He would stand outside the window and sometimes kick it with his foot, calling my name. I would swear, “Damn it, Gary, go away.” Then, of course, I would get in trouble for swearing, which he thought was hilarious. Rinse and repeat.

On the far side of the dark, damp, but cool, basement room was Dad’s “shop.” Not to be confused with his shop in the barn.

Dad’s basement shop, even though the basement had no heat, was warmer than the unheated shop in the barn which was typically used to repair farm machinery. Repair might well mean forging a part or beating some misbehaving piece of mechanical gear into submission. Dad was good at almost everything.

The shop in the basement, over the years, came to be favored for things like working with wood and leather, making bone and wooden buttons for his rendezvous clothes and re-enactments where he was a mountain man – and working with vintage guns.

By vintage, I mean black powder muzzleloaders. Those all came and went through the side door to the basement.

Truth be told, I’m not sure Dad even owned one himself. Our guns on the farm were “put up,” meaning locked up in the house, taken very seriously, and never gotten out unless there was a need. If you saw Dad walking out of the house with a gun, something was wrong and you needed to ask how you could help.

Most often, it meant some poor animal needed to be put out of its misery. If there was any saving it, Dad would bring it in to me and Mom. Otherwise, we were instructed to stay in the house and he did whatever needed to be done.

Mom and I listened for the report, both of us winced and looked at each other – grateful that whatever it was, was over.

Dad loved to work in his shop.

People would bring him broken things at rendezvous encampments and asked him if he could fix them. He would often tell them he didn’t know, but he’d give it a try, which often meant recreating an obsolete part. He’d return the item to them at the next rendezvous. Over time, his reputation working with firearms grew and he always had something he was fixing. I think he enjoyed the challenge – and he was very good at figuring out how to repair things that seemed irrecoverably broken.

That Hot Morning

Mom pulled out of the driveway and headed north.

I pulled out of the driveway and headed south, the pavement so hot that the heat shimmered in the distance, creating optical illusions. I worked in town, some 20 or 25 miles away. Before I was past the first crossroads, my legs were already sticking to the seat.

I’m not sure where Gary was, but I think he may have been living in town at that time. He wasn’t at home.

Retrospectively, Dad probably relished the quiet of the household when Mom and I were gone, with the windows wide open and hearing the distant rustling of the animals making farm sounds.

Make no mistake, he loved us, but we weren’t exactly quiet. We were always busy, talking, doing something, cooking, canning, and complaining about the heat. Well, that was me.

After we left, Dad went down to the shop that he affectionately called his office, probably because it couldn’t have been further removed from anything resembling an office – although he had commandeered an old desk as a work surface. To this day, I have NO IDEA how that man could see anything down there in that sacrosanct dungeon that served as his man-cave. There was one light bulb hanging from the ceiling, and it was not in “his” corner of the basement, furthest from the windows.

After Mom left, Dad went downstairs to work on fixing a black powder muzzleloader that needed a part.

The thing about an Avon route is that while it might take all day, you were never terribly far from home. Mom knew all of her customers of course, but if she decided it would be better to return home to go to the bathroom, she probably wasn’t more than a few miles away, at most.

Mom had completed her first few deliveries. She was always torn between wanting to hurry so that she would get done before the worst of the heat, and not wanting to leave before someone had a chance to take a look at the sale brochure. Her best shot at getting a new order was right there in the living room or at the kitchen table when making a delivery.

As Mom left someone’s home, a very strange feeling came over her.

She couldn’t shake it.

She felt like she needed to go home.

Not like when she needed to go to the bathroom, this was different.

She tried to ignore it. It wasn’t rational, she told herself.

As she turned in the direction away from the house, heading on to her next destination, the feeling became more urgent.

Then it became overwhelming.

Mom turned around in the middle of the road and made tracks for home.

She heard the disembodied words, “hurry, hurry.”

Dad’s truck was parked at the barn, like always, so he was there.

A sense of foreboding had overcome her on the short drive home that seemed to take forever.

Mom parked in the driveway and scampered inside, somehow knowing something was wrong.

Had something happened at the barn?

Did the tractor flip over?

Where was Dad?

As she tripped across the threshold of the back door, dashed through the mudroom and into the kitchen, she saw it and stopped dead in her tracks.

Blood.

A trail of blood.

Everyplace.

She didn’t know which end of the trail was the beginning and which was the end.

What had happened?

Where was Dad?

There was blood, splatters, and misshapen partial footprints – like someone had been sliding in the blood, all blurred together.

Her head spun.

The bright red trail reached from the kitchen side door leading down the steps to the basement, across the kitchen in front of the refrigerator, and disappeared into the bathroom.

Worse yet.

There was total silence.

Nothing.

Not even the dog.

Where was the dog?

Something was horribly, horribly wrong.

Mom ran into the bathroom and stopped again.

Dead still.

Dad was laying on the floor, white as a sheet.

The dog was protectively curled around him, not moving.

Terror struck like a knife stabbed into her heart.

She rushed to him, falling on her knees in the puddle of blood.

Thank God, he was still breathing.

Mom looked for the source of the blood and quickly realized he had been trying to apply a tourniquet when he lost consciousness.

His leg was hemorrhaging, but he had been able to apply at least some pressure, and the dog was actually laying on that leg, over the wound.

Bless that dog!

Mom grabbed something. His belt, I think, but I can’t remember for sure, and secured it around his leg. She had no idea why he was unconscious. Was it loss of blood, pain, or another injury someplace?

She turned him over and saw nothing more. It never occurred to her that maybe, just maybe, someone had shot him and might be in the house and they both might be in danger.

Those were the days long before cell phones. Mom ran to the desk in the kitchen where their only phone was located. There was no 911 back then either, but there was always a sticker under the handset on the rotary phone that displayed the phone number for the ambulance, “just in case.” That was that day.

Her hands were shaking.

It rang busy.

She tried the neighbor, hoping for help.

No answer.

Ran back to check on Dad – still breathing.

She decided to take matters into her own hands.

My 100-pounds-soaking-wet mother couldn’t lift Dad. She pulled him through the kitchen, out the mudroom, plopped him down the two steps, dragged him along the sidewalk, and somehow stuffed him into the passengers’ side door of the car.

Then, she drove like a bat out of hell the 20 miles to the hospital.

That was the first of two times she did exactly the same thing, both times saving Dad’s life.

That was, however, the only time Dad shot himself.

The Hospital

Arriving at the hospital, Mom called me at work. I knew something was very wrong. No one ever called anyone at work back then. She minced no words.

“Dad’s shot, come to the hospital.”

My heart stopped.

Just stopped dead.

I had no idea if he was alive or dead.

Who shot him?

Where was Mom?

Which hospital. I guessed the one closest to the farm.

I simply had no idea about anything…at all.

But I will tell you that my life stopped in that moment, time morphed, and I have absolutely no recollection whatsoever of the actual drive to the hospital.

Pulling into the hospital property, I spotted Mom’s car abandoned in the driveway under the canopy, with the doors open and no sign of Mom or Dad. But blood. There was blood.

That’s all I could see.

Blood.

The security guards were looking quizzically at the car, clearly wondering what to do. I pulled up behind her car, leaped out of my car and ran into the emergency entrance.

Someone pointed me towards the curtained rooms in the back where I saw Mom emerging, looking like she was in shock, and covered in blood – even on her glasses and in her hair.

I could feel the anxiety squeezing my chest. I could smell the blood now.

“Where’s Dad?”

“They just took him up to surgery.”

“Oh my God, he’s alive?”

“Yes.”

Of course he was alive if they were taking him to surgery, but you don’t think clearly at a time like that.

Only then did it occur to me to ask Mom if she was hurt. All things considered, I presumed she wasn’t.

Mom and I both had a sobbing meltdown, right there, hugging and holding each other, which of course got me bloody too.

A volunteer took pity on us and shepherded us to a room that looked suspiciously like a chapel where we could cry in private. Plus, Mom was a mess and I’m sure they didn’t want us in the waiting room.

I gave the security guard our keys so he could move our cars out of the drive where they were blocking everything.

I asked Mom what happened.

I had no idea that she might not actually know.

Mom was in shock and could only cry.

What Happened?

After Mom left that morning, Dad had decided to work on a black powder muzzleloader.

Generally, he took a gun outside and made sure it wasn’t loaded.

But this gun was broken. Apparently, it was jammed somehow.

When Dad started to work on the gun in the basement, it discharged the bullet which then hit the concrete block wall. Ricocheting off the wall, the bullet hit Dad in the leg, badly damaging an artery and more.

Dad knew he was “hurt bad” as he put it, and decided to go upstairs to the bathroom to try to stop the bleeding.

Why he didn’t apply a tourniquet in the basement, and why he walked directly past the phone on the way to the bathroom, even touching the desk where the phone sat, instead of calling for help, I’ll never know. He was aware that his artery was involved.

He likely was shocky immediately. Who knows how much blood he had already lost by the time he had walked to the doorway, climbed the stairs, and made his way to the bathroom.

In the chapel, Mom suddenly realized that she didn’t know if she had shut the house door (she hadn’t) and was worried about the dog.

I told her I’d go home, take care of whatever needed to be done, get her some clean clothes, and come back to the hospital.

When I arrived, the dog was guarding the open door. The house looked like a massacre had occurred. Even a small amount of blood looks like a huge quantity, especially when on a flat surface like a floor.

I wasn’t prepared for what I saw.

Neither, apparently, was the sheriff, who we knew, and who pulled in right behind me.

Apparently one of those see-everything neighbors I mentioned noticed Mom driving with an intensity that belied an Avon delivery and after thinking about it, decided to drive up to the house to see if everything was alright.

The neighbor found the back door open, blood on the sidewalk, and the dog refusing to let anyone enter. They went home and called the sheriff.

The sheriff took one look at me, with blood residue on my clothes from Mom, but not realizing where it came from, and immediately put me in the squad car.

I got to sit in the squad car for some time while the sheriff radioed back to headquarters. It seems the deputies were already at the hospital – standard procedure in a shooting. The neighbor showed up again and told the sheriff what he saw.

As soon as the sheriff confirmed that things were as I said, he took a few pictures, just in case, confiscated the gun, and then he and the neighbor helped me clean things up a bit. He told me I was too upset to drive and took me back to the hospital. Mom’s clean clothes got a police escort.

This time the sheriff parked in the hospital driveway and we entered together, heading off to find Mom. I’m sure our family was the talk of the hospital for weeks, if not months or years.

I know this incident became legendary in the neighborhood.

The Legend

Dad was fine, eventually. Not just fine, but he had a wonderful story, a wonderful yarn to spin to entertain his buddies.

When he got home, his first priority was to find the bullet.

Yes, find the bullet.

How would one ever locate that bullet that was bouncing around the basement?

Well, somehow Dad found it and made what was left into a memento which he wore from that day forward – especially to rendezvous.

He wore his bullet with his favorite shirt. After Dad passed away, Mom wore this as well to feel close to him.

When asked about why he was wearing this “thing” he had created, and what it was, the door was opened wide, providing him with the perfect opportunity to tell the story about when he shot himself. That story might, just might, have evolved a wee bit over time into somewhat of a tall tale.

Kids would gather, wide-eyed, and ask to see his scar from where the bullet went flying around the pitch-black room like a heat-seeking missile propelled by pitchfork fire.

His buddies wanted to know how that happened with the gun and all about when the sheriff arrested his wife and daughter.

Mom’s friends wanted to know how the heck she had managed to haul his carcass to the car. Dad didn’t really want to acknowledge that part. In his defense, he was unconscious and had plausible deniability.

They also wanted to know how Mom got the blood out of the linoleum and the seat of the car. She didn’t – she got a new kitchen floor with nary a whimper from Dad, and seat covers worked wonders.

In fact, sometimes the bloodstain on the seat would become part of Dad’s tall tale performance. He’d take those kids right over to see it, prefacing the great reveal with, “Are you ready? Are you sure?” before yanking the car door open to their amazement and horror. Ok, he might have enhanced the seat a bit, for effect.

The sheriff had a version of his own that he referred to as the Muzzleloader Massacre where the dog was the hero and saved Dad’s life. Sometimes, the sheriff would stop by the rendezvous and he and dad would tell dueling tall tales where they would both good-naturedly call each other liars. Those were something to hear. No matter how many times you had already heard them, they were funny. It seems there was always some new detail added by one or the other, or both.

Occasionally, I’d get to tell my own version, kind of as a tie-breaker, where I’d explain how Mom carried Dad to the car, kind of like a reverse wedding, carrying him outside over the threshold and then qualified for the Indy 500 on the way to the hospital. Then how she managed to get a new kitchen and new car out of the deal.

I think everyone always liked the dog-hero version of the story best.

Me and Dad

Dad, who was actually my step-father, and I had a wonderful one-of-a-kind relationship. We adored each other, as you can see by the look on our faces, above, at my wedding, just before he walked me down the aisle, after telling me it was alright to bolt out the back door if I wanted to change my mind.

I marvel at how fortunate Mom, along with me, were to have stumbled into his life. Or maybe he stumbled into ours.

It was my lucky day when they married.

Forever the prankster, you never expected that of Dad. He was always the quiet one, a man of very few words, and infinite love. However, he was always on the lookout for an opportunity to cause some mischief. My step-brother came by it honestly.

I’m positive, on the other hand, that I sorely tried that man’s patience, especially as a teen. He actually married my Mom when I was a teenager, in spite of me. Of course, I inherited that pesky brother in the deal, so I guess that was a two-way street.

Dad and I became incredibly close, bonded by our common losses and the joy of finding each other. I lost my father and he lost his daughter. One time, he walked past me sitting at the table, thunked me on the head with his thumb and forefinger, and said, “You know, when I married your mom, I got my daughter back,” and just kept on walking. Like I said, a man of very, very few words.

Not one time did any cross words ever pass between us. Not once. We loved each other, infinitely.

Only death would separate us, but not on that particular hot day in Indiana.

Back at the Hospital

Seldom did I get the best of Dad, but this time, I did.

I’m still secretly pleased by this.

Back at the hospital, when Dad returned from surgery and recovery, and we had cleaned up and changed clothes, they told us we could go to his room to wait.

As they wheeled the gurney in and got him settled, Mom was terribly relieved just to see him and started babbling – a release for hours of pent-up nerves.

Dad was all hooked up to IVs, a little groggy, but talking.

Mom asked him what happened.

He told her simply, “I shot myself.”

She asked, incredulously, “On purpose?”

“Hell no, Jean,” he replied, quite irritated at the question, probably because he was a much better shot than that.

I’m sure he thought he was about to receive a lecture, and he might just have been right.

I wasn’t sure he saw me, so I bent over the bedrail, looked down, smiled at Dad, and touched him. His irritation melted away immediately when he saw me, frown lines smoothing into the tenderest smile. I remember it so well, even today, all these years later.

He reached out to hold my hand. I could tell, in spite of his toughness that he was frightened and badly shaken. He knew how close he had come. So did I.

Had it not been for Mom, the dog, and perhaps the hand of God…

I took his rough, calloused, farm-hardened hand in both of mine, ever so gently and lovingly, and said…

“So, Barney, tell us what happened.”

Gotcha Dad.

I love you and miss you incredibly. I am so privileged to have had you in my life along with these wonderful memories – and your bullet – one of my cherished possessions.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad.