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This is Document 1E (1854-1855)
Jacksonville, Feb. 1854. Dear Lina! I wrote last autumn to Karl, but as I received no answer I suspected that my letter got lost. Last month I wrote a letter to you and let this one follow, too, so that at least one of them will reach you. I told you in my last letter that we emigrated from Barnstable to Florida, that I nearly was always sick here, that Mrs. Sennewald, who was always a true friend and nurse to me, died, and that I am living now alone with Henry on a farm near Jacksonville. This time I want to tell you more about my place and the region here. If you take the map into your hand you will see that Fl. is the most southern state of the U.S. and consists of a long peninsula. The climate is like in Italy, neither cold nor hot and is considered to be very healthy. On the East Coast, where the peninsula starts, the St. Johns River flows into the ocean and here is Jacksonville, the main harbor of this river, which is here as wide as is the Elbe below Hamburg. My property, 100 acres in one piece, three to four times the size of the Ado, is close to the river, seven miles below Jacksonville, four miles by the land way. Steam and sailing ships which come from and go to sea, pass continually. All land not cultivated yet is used as a kind of pasture for all, whereto everybody sends his marked cows, oxen, horses, donkeys, and pigs, where they run around wild and by which the farmer loses all the manure. I have about 25 acres fenced in as a pasture and we lead our cattle every night to the dung-yard. We feed our pigs always in the stable. We also fenced in this winter a piece twice as big as your garden with boards, so that the wild rabbits could not come in and eat all of the young vegetables and plants. When I think back of Kummerfeld and the bad and long way to my heath and how often I wished at that time to have all my land in one piece, I have to confess that I have now everything what I ever hoped for and wished. Part of my land is full of beautiful oak trees and part of it pine trees. A piece of marsh land close to the river does not give good hay but so much litter as I can use. There are no singing birds at all in the North of America, and I often thought sadly of your nightingales, but here in the South is a bird which has the voices of all the other birds together and is called a mockingbird and whom I nearly prefer to the nightingale. When we work in the woods or in the country, one of them sits nearly in every bush and sings to us. They sing all summer long and are silent only a short time in winter. Besides the mockingbird there are many beautiful flowers which grow wild. But you will think, one cannot live alone from birds and flowers; and so I have to tell you, too, that from nothing comes nothing, but I can grow so much on half an acre as you on the soil of Kummerfeld and one can hardly find anywhere else a better … |
… market than here. Milk is sold for six [SS?] per quart and cabbage for nine to 12 [S?] per head. I would be very happy here if I would have somebody who would take part in my joys and sorrows. Henry is a good boy and the best help when I am sick, but he is no child any longer. We celebrated yesterday his 16th birthday and he can easily get the idea to look around in the world. Then I am all alone. I wish you could come with your husband and children over here. Write me — honestly — how things are — and send me a Daguerreotype picture of you (I asked you for it already in my last letter!), without glass and frame you can easily enclose it in a letter. Farewell and write soon to Your loving father. |
… nowhere peace and rest — travel is in his blood. All his thinking is directed toward the same thing. He wrote many a letter to you, but I don’t know whether he mailed them and whether you received them. He went to sea as a sailor and hopes his lucky star will lead him to you, if he is not there yet or had an accident. Last summer Ullrichs lived with Ehlers in Ruicel. Lene became engaged there to a Mr. Rosenbusch from Pinneberg. She visited me often. eight days ago the wedding was in the "Golden Angel" (hotel!) in Hamburg, where Uncle Ullrich now lives. He wants to remarry. Pinneberg gets bigger every day. One new house after another is built, many factories, new stores and so on. Two new pretty houses stand there where once the old barn at the Geheimrat’s was. [Geheimrat = Privy Councilor — LPM.] In one of the stores lives the old Geheimrat’s servant. Here one can buy American dung (guano). It is supposed to be very strong. Aunt Lotte tried last year buckwheat and had a nice crop. Her Gustav is in San Francisco. He is doing well, never writes of being sick. Guano costs 10 [SF?] 100 lb., but it only needs to be spread very thinly and harrowed together with the wheat. We want to give it a try also this year. Our business is moderate; there is little more to do with the seeds. There are everywhere seed stores and salesmen go from door to door. But it is better with trees and bushes. They have to make up for the interest and taxes. We also have to buy now nearly all our groceries and everything is so expensive, but we hope the next crop will be better. We had a nice spring. Snow is gone since March and last year we had still so much snow in April. Dear Father and Henry:This noon (Easter!) I also received your second letter with the beautiful flower which Henry probably picked for me. We also talked already about that Henry is 16 years old, but still a delicate youth. Our Lord may keep him healthy and give him strength to assist you. I also will wish that Wilhelm Meissner [son of F.A.M. brother Karl] may soon come to your aid. He is a robust guy and has a good heart. But where might he be? I believe he went along to Spain. |
He does not have the money to come straight to you; and his father, who has still money from the inheritance, won’t give him any. It is not possible for me to send you my picture right away and to satisfy your impatience I will first send you a letter. It is also a metal plate and I will see how to make it possible to fulfill your request, because it is still too cold in the mornings and evenings to travel to the city with a small child, and without her the joy would be missing which shines out of her beautiful blue eyes. I also would like to have a picture of you two. Don’t be now mad with me. I will surely send it soon to you. Have some indulgence with your Lina, because — believe me — I have many a sorrow, but I married against my mother’s will. She herself made the first proposal, but you know how changeable she is, even if she wants only the best for me. The advocate Kirchhoff does not live any more in Ütersen. He has got a job somewhere in the country. Mr. [Mrs.?] Mideen Egersendt will soon marry her servant J. Teede and will also soon have a baby. Her husband died four years ago and her oldest son died of pneumonia in the same hour as my Georg. Her second son, Hans Heinrich, will become a farmer and Mr. T. has to leave with her young husband. [?? Son will take over the farm, so she has to find another place to live? — LPM] Mrs. Wilke is a rich widow. Her husband died of smallpox. Dear Father, take a good housekeeper or a wife, and console yourself hereby. There won’t be anything of us coming over. My children are small and my husband so proper — if you don’t have the joy, you don’t have the sorrow either. I don’t have any interest in the strange world, the long trip, and the treacherous elements. Give my regards to dear Henry. I was 27 years old on Nov 12. Your loving daughter Karoline Marie Eleonore. End: April 26 [1854]. |
A letter to Mr. O’Donnell, Coroner of the 19th Ward, N.Y., G. Limburg, N.Y., May 3 [1854]. Mr. John B. & G. Hahn, No. 15 Avenue A, N.Y. 2. J. May 29 [1854]. Caused by your circular which I received with the ‘Democrat," I want to ask you whether you can get a housekeeper for me. I live an hour’s way distant from J. on a own farm at the bank of the St. J. River and raise vegetables. My wife died nearly a year ago. My oldest daughter is about to get married; my other children are all grown up and have all left their father’s house with the exception of a boy of 16 years, who works with me on the farm. You therefore can see for yourselves that my household is only small (black workers have their own home), so that a girl of 14 years could manage it. It is often hard to find a new place for immigrants, who don’t understand and speak the English language yet, and one of them I would prefer most. I rather take at all a country girl, as girls from the city hardly ever get used to such a life. I want a decent, moral girl, who knows how to knit, sew, and cook a little. I will give her $50 per year and she will have enough time to make her own clothes; she does not need so many in the country here anyway than in the city. In my consideration this is a good offer; besides that I am going to pay her passage and include some lines. If this should not be sufficient, I am going to send you the money; you must however take the time and find a passage for her. I would have enclosed the money right away if I could not have been afraid that the girl — after you paid her the money — would reconsider it and not come and my money would have been wasted. Ships from and to N.Y. arrive and take off daily, but as many arrive only with ballast, they won’t be listed all in the newspapers. The usual … |
… as the yellow fever is now in Savannah. According to your letter, Mrs. Limburg seems to be willing to accept the offer I made her some time ago and she still is welcome to me with her two children, if she thinks that she can be happy in the country and has the good will to take over the duties and common work of a housewife. Concerning the traveling expenses, I have to say: Having received no answer to my letter from the coroner, I wrote to a certain John B. & G. Hahn in N.Y. (which offered themselves to do all sorts of things by newspaper) and told them to find a German girl for me as my housekeeper. Shortly afterward John B. Hahn, who works also as bookkeeper in the Office of the N.Y. Democrat, answered that he found already a girl fitting as my housekeeper. She is a relative of his wife, arrived from Germany only a short time ago, and if I would send the traveling expenses for her, he as well as Mr. Schlüter (the publisher of the Democrat) would guarantee that the girl would travel to me as soon as she received the money. On June 19 I sent him $15; I had sent him already $2 some time ago and asked him — as the normal passage costs only $10 — to send some little things along for the remaining $5. Some time later I received a letter from J.B. Hahn saying he could not yet find a suitable passage. All my questions I wrote stayed unanswered. Considering that which happened, I would like you to make an attempt to get the money back from Mr. Hahn. I therefore include some lines to Hahn. I want you to use it for Mrs. Limburg’s traveling expenses. In case Mr. Hahn should be a cheat and refuse to give the money back, I should think Mrs. Limburg’s relatives can give her the travel money. It will hardly cost as much as the cost of living for one month in N.Y. The sooner she comes the better it is. Also it is now (in autumn) the best time to go south. Nearly daily ships go from N.Y. to J. which bring goods and take wood home. These make the trip often in four to five days. The usual passage is $10; children pay half and small children go free, but it might be possible as everything rose in price, that the passage got more expensive, too. The route by Savannah or Charleston by steamboat is closed now due to the yellow fever; we have here neither cholera nor yellow fever and enjoy generally a very good health. I must be afraid to tire you out by my long letter. My best regards to Mrs. Limburg and her children. Please accept the assurance of my respect. Devotedly, your …. |
Henry and I are still living together in peace in Florida. William is at sea, Wilhelmine in California, Eleonore works in a household —. We have had an unusually hot and dry summer and also an early and cold winter. Already in the middle of Nov. the potatoes, beans, and Georgians [?] froze, but since a few days the weather is again warm and comfortable. Caused by the bad crops and the Turko-Russian war, flour and wheat is very expensive, but we have good and cheap meat. We buy usually (since we had the cold weather) every 14 days 1/4 oxen meat [a beef quarter? — LPM], what weighs only 80 to 100 lbs., the lb. for three cts. Now and then we also shoot a wild pig, so that we live nearly entirely on meat. Henry sometimes says, "If they would only know in Kummerfeld how beautiful inexpensive meat we have!". When we go up in the morning around six o’clock (the sun rises now at seven and sets at 5), one of us fixes breakfast, usually tea with beefsteak, cereal with syrup, while the other takes care of the oxen, cows, and pigs. After breakfast we both start working. At noon we rarely take the time to fix us something. In the afternoon one of us drives usually a load of wood to town, and when he comes home, the other has cooked a nice supper, coffee with roast or meat, sweet potatoes, rice, and so on. After supper we read the paper, mend our socks, or visit a neighbor. We usually put down our dirty bowls and plates so long, till all the clean ones are used of. Then we spend one evening doing dishes. Henry washes and I dry them. Nobody surpasses us in this region in baking white bread. The neighbors often say that they want to send their wives to us in order to learn how to make bread. We both are well and fine, but all summer and autumn long we raised nearly nothing on account of the weather. We hope now for spring. This morning a young sow had six merry piglets (a birthday present), five sows and a boar. They will be all raised for breeding. These little pigs could have again six pigs next fall and so on and on. If only things don’t happen to me like the girl with the milk-pot [in a fairy tale]. Some days ago we bought a wild bull, whom we teach now to pull and he is doing pretty good. Two years ago I bought two. After having them caught and tied with ropes we put the yoke on. They both went really wild, they bit, hit, tore, and raged. Next morning they had broken their necks. One hit me on my foot. I had to lied down lame for four weeks and had terrible pains. But that’s enough for now. We wish that all of you celebrated Christmas as healthy and well as we, but a little bit merrier and that you may step into the New Year in the same way. We thank our Lord for His grace that He let us travel till here and ask Him to give you and us His protection farther on. Your loving father! What ever became of Wilhelm Meissner? [son of brother Karl] |
… did well, the lettuce did not come [up] at all and the other kinds only very weakly. I am curious how big the Cretan cabbage is going to be. Your picture is a great joy for me, but I would not have recognized you on the first look. However, the longer I look at it now, the more familiar it seems to me. One can read from your son’s face how surprised he is about it all. I would like to send you our pictures, but there is no photographer here and beside—I want to recover first a little. You did not get me right about the stamps. I concluded that you would make letter and seeds into a small package and to put on a stamp for every ‘lot.’ The letter alone would have needed only one stamp. I received it however without further expenses. So James Booth died. You did never mention anything about Heidenes either as little as you mention your husband. If your son would not prove the contrary, I should believe you won’t have one any more. What is the name of your oldest son? I can find his name in no letter. [Heinrich, b. abt. 1849? — LPM]. You don’t seem to want to make use from my offer to look upon me as your friend. You don’t mention anything about your family life. Is the place still in your husband’s name and how are you able to make a living and pay the interest? Already 10 years have passed since I left Hamburg and we never talked about business. Does my money still stand there where it stood, did you take on a greater mortgage, or did you pay part of it off, do I lose some of my rights if I demand no interest? I would like to know very much about this and I ask you to get the information for me, if you yourself don’t know about it. |
End of Document 1E (1854-1855)
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