Hi everybody my name is Gabi and welcome back to my show learning languages in society with Gabi.
Today I am going to talk about a fascinating paper I stumbled upon while collecting date for this podcast. It is called: Transplanted but not Uprooted: 19th-Century Immigrants from Hessen-Darmstadt in Wisconsin Helmut Schmahl, Johannes Gutenberg-Universität Mainz, Germany.
I am going to read a paraphrased version of this paper as though I was reading a story. I hope to illustrate it the best way I can and I hope to make super engaging and fun to listen to.
Transplanted but Not Uprooted: 19th-Century Immigrants from Hessen-Darmstadt in Wisconsin
Hey everyone! Get ready for a fascinating journey back in time to the 19th century, where a group of determined immigrants from Hessen-Darmstadt, Germany, made their way to the promising lands of Wisconsin. Helmut Schmahl from Johannes Gutenberg University in Mainz, Germany, brings us an exciting glimpse into his doctoral research, exploring the lives, challenges, and triumphs of these brave settlers.
Inspired by the pioneering socio-historical approach of Frank Thistlethwaite, this research dives deep into the complete migration experience, bridging the gap between Europe and America. Thistlethwaite urged historians to look beyond the Atlantic "salt water curtain" and examine how these immigrants adapted to their new surroundings—a process known as acculturation.
This fresh perspective allowed researchers to see the migrant experience from within, moving beyond the traditional separation of emigration and immigration. While many studies focused on Scandinavians in the Midwest, Helmut Schmahl shines a spotlight on the lesser-known story of German immigrants, particularly those from Rheinhessen.
With a treasure trove of sources like emigration records, land documents, census manuscripts, church records, letters, and newspapers, Schmahl unearthed the stories of around 2,000 individuals who settled in eastern Wisconsin in the mid-1800s. These settlers formed close-knit communities, bringing with them their rich cultural heritage and traditions.
This paper offers a brief but captivating overview of Schmahl's extensive research. So, buckle up and enjoy this delightful dive into the lives of Hessen-Darmstadt immigrants who, despite leaving their homeland, managed to stay rooted in their culture while thriving in their new American home.
A Dreamy Journey: The Tale of Johannes Neeb and the Rheinhessen Emigrants
In 1817, Johannes Neeb, the mayor of Nieder-Saulheim near Mainz, witnessed a procession of emigrant families passing through his village. This sight touched him so deeply that he dreamt that night of being whisked away to a mysterious land. In this dream, Neeb wandered until he stumbled upon a signpost with familiar place names: Mannheim, Oppenheim, Mainz, Darmstadt, and Alzey. However, he was astonished to find that the landscape was not what he expected—no vineyards, no quaint villages, no majestic Rhine River, just vast stretches of uncultivated land.
He then encountered a man who introduced himself as the Justice of the Peace of Oppenheim on the Ohio River. Speaking fluent German, this man told Neeb that many immigrants from Rheinhessen had settled there and were living happily. The man invited Neeb to stay, and Neeb, excited by the prospect, reached out to shake his hand. But instead of a handshake, Neeb hit his bedpost and woke up.
Neeb's vivid dream was shared with the world in 1821 in a publication titled "Neu-Deutschland in Amerika." It turns out, Neeb's dream was rooted in reality. Since the late 1600s, people from his region in northern Palatinate, later known as Rheinhessen, had been emigrating to Eastern Europe and North America. Neeb likely knew of an Oppenheim in the United States, although it was in New York's Mohawk Valley, not on the Ohio River. This dream highlighted a shared knowledge among Rheinhessen residents about overseas settlements where their kin had established communities, drawing even more emigrants to these new lands.
By the time of Neeb's death in 1843, many from his village were en route to the Great Lakes region of the United States, particularly to the sparsely populated wilderness of Wisconsin.
The Journey of Hessian Immigrants: From Rheinhessen to Wisconsin
First, let’s dive into the Rheinhessen homeland of many Hessian immigrants and explore the socio-economic situation there in the early 19th century. Why was Wisconsin such a hotspot for emigrants from eastern Rheinhessen? We’ll uncover the origins of this migration wave.
Next, we’ll map out where these Hessian immigrants settled across Wisconsin, focusing on key clusters: the Darmstädter Settlements in southern Washington County and northern Sheboygan County, and the bustling City of Milwaukee.
To understand how these immigrants adapted to their new home, we’ll discuss their interactions with Anglo-Americans (often referred to as Yankees), their marriage patterns, agricultural practices, involvement in beer and wine businesses, religious life, and their attitudes towards the Civil War.
Join me as we travel through time and explore the rich history and cultural tapestry of the Hessian immigrants in America!
The Great Escape from Rheinhessen: A Tale of Emigration
Let's set the scene in Nieder-Saulheim, nestled in the tiniest province of the Grand Duchy of Hessen-Darmstadt, known as Rheinhessen. This charming region, located on the left side of the Rhine, had a colorful past, having been under French rule from 1797 to 1814 before being handed over to Hessen-Darmstadt in 1816. Imagine a place less than half the size of Dane County, Wisconsin, yet packed with fertile soil perfect for growing grain and making wine, all thanks to its mild climate.
By 1840, Rheinhessen had a bustling population of 213,000, making it one of the most densely populated areas in Germany with about 400 residents per square mile. This dense population had surged by a quarter in just 25 years, creating serious problems in a farming society where land was divided equally among heirs (a practice called Realteilung).
Faced with crop failures in the 1840s, many middle-class families saw emigration as their ticket to avoid poverty. The Kölner Zeitung in 1847 reported that among the many families leaving Rheinhessen, none were considered "poor." Most were worth between 4,000 and 5,000 Gulden ($1,600-$2,000). One wealthy farmer, who sold his estate for 12,000 Gulden ($4,800), explained his choice to emigrate by saying, "I may be rich, but with nine children, each would inherit too little to avoid poverty. I'd rather move to North America, buy a large homestead cheaply, and secure a prosperous future for my descendants."
Among those emigrants was Jakob Best, a farmer and vinegar-maker from Mettenheim. Best sold his property for 8,000 Gulden ($3,200) before heading to America, where his son would eventually found the famous Pabst Brewery in Milwaukee.
In the mid-1800s, while Wisconsin was a hot spot for Rheinhessen emigrants, it wasn't the only destination. Brazil also lured some of the poorer folks, thanks to provinces or plantation owners who often covered the otherwise unaffordable cost of passage.
So, the story of Rheinhessen's emigration is one of adventure, opportunity, and the pursuit of a brighter future, from the fertile lands of Germany to the vast, open spaces of America and beyond!
The Fun and Fascinating Story of Rheinhessen's Great Migration to Wisconsin
Picture this: it’s the early 1840s, and a fever is sweeping through Nieder-Saulheim and Kreis Oppenheim in Rheinhessen – not a sickness, but Wisconsin Fever! Nearly 2,000 people from this small, fertile area (less than four townships in Wisconsin) packed up and headed for the U.S., specifically Wisconsin. While folks from other parts of Rheinhessen and Hessen states (like Hessen-Darmstadt, Hessen-Kassel, and Hessen-Homburg) preferred different North American regions, this particular area had a special connection to Wisconsin. How special? Well, in 1860, out of 123,879 German-born residents in Wisconsin, only 6,313 were Hessians, but they made up about 7.5% of all Germans in the U.S. at that time!
So, what made Wisconsin so irresistible to the people of Oppenheim? Enter Franz Neukirch, an educated man from Guntersblum near Oppenheim. Franz was a forester constantly at odds with his boss, and in 1839, when he was accused of forging documents, he decided to escape to America. He arrived in New York and quickly moved to Milwaukee, where he bought 80 acres of land in Franklin. His wife and kids joined him a year later.
Franz wasn’t just farming; he was writing letters back home, singing the praises of Wisconsin’s fertile soil, healthy climate, abundant game, fish, berries, and fruits. He described how easy it was to raise pigs and cows, as they found their own food in the forests. Franz was thrilled with his friendly German and Anglo-American neighbors, and he noted the rapid development of schools, churches, roads, and canals. Despite low wheat prices, he saw great prospects for agriculture and urged poor laborers from Germany to come to Wisconsin, where they could quickly earn enough to buy land and secure a stable future.
Franz's wife made sure his letters circulated back in Rheinhessen, and thanks to his good reputation, the mayor and others in Guntersblum supported her efforts. When she and their children joined him in 1840, five more families from Guntersblum were preparing to make the journey to Wisconsin.
Franz Neukirch became the go-to guy for many new immigrants. Johann Schätzel arrived in 1840, disappointed to find all the land near Neukirch was sold. At the Milwaukee land office, Schätzel met Valentin Pfeil, another Rheinhessian, who directed him north to Mequon and Germantown, where he and other settlers from the Bavarian Palatinate had settled. Schätzel and the Guntersblum families followed Pfeil’s advice and bought land there.
Neukirch eventually moved to Milwaukee in 1844, taking over his son-in-law’s brewery. He remained a key advisor for new arrivals and was praised as a pioneer by the Wiskonsin-Banner. Although he didn’t write books, his truthful letters to Rheinhessen ignited a near-irresistible urge to migrate. Thousands of Rheinhessians came to Wisconsin, and none regretted it.
By this time, Rheinhessians and other Hessen-Darmstädters likely numbered less than a thousand in Wisconsin, but Neukirch’s influence was undeniable. His brewery thrived, making him a wealthy and respected Milwaukee citizen. As vice president of the German Democratic Association of Milwaukee, he championed the political interests of the city's German community. Through his correspondence with the nationally circulated newspaper Der Deutsche Auswanderer, he continued to promote Wisconsin as the land of opportunity, bringing around 2,000 Germans to Wisconsin based on the mayor of Darmstadt’s estimate.
Franz Neukirch wasn’t the only catalyst for this migration. In 1842 and 1843, Philipp Laubenheimer from the village of Selzen also encouraged many to move to Washington County, where he owned a tavern and sawmill in Richfield.
So, there you have it – a lively tale of how Wisconsin Fever spread through Rheinhessen, thanks to pioneers like Franz Neukirch and Philipp Laubenheimer, who paved the way for a prosperous new life in America’s heartland!
The Rural Migration to Wisconsin: A Fun Tale of Hessian Settlers
Imagine this: It's the 1860s, and the Hessians from Hessen-Darmstadt are all over the map in Wisconsin! From Milwaukee to Lake Winnebago to Manitowoc, they spread out far and wide. Let's dive into the story of these adventurous souls who decided to call Wisconsin home.
Hessian Hotspots: There were two main settlements for these folks. One was in southern Washington County, and the other, a bit smaller, in northwestern Sheboygan County. By 1860, a whopping 1,256 Hessen-Darmstädters lived in Washington County, making them the second-largest group of Germans there. Most of them were from Rheinhessen and settled in Germantown, Richfield, Polk, and Jackson. The Darmstädter Settlement saw a boom between 1842 and 1848, and when the land was all snapped up, newcomers headed 40 miles north to the wilds of the Town of Rhine in Sheboygan County, which soon became the ultimate Hessian hangout.
The Civil War Shift: When the Civil War hit, immigration from Hessen-Darmstadt to Wisconsin slowed down significantly and never picked up to its former levels. By 1870, the Hessian-born population rose slightly to 6,661 but dropped to 4,082 by 1880. These numbers are a bit tricky due to census irregularities and the annexation of Hessen-Kassel by Prussia in 1866, which likely reclassified many as Prussians.
Mingling and Marrying: In Washington County, Germans dominated the population. By 1860, 68% of the residents were German-born or their children, and this number only grew. The Darmstädter Settlement was surrounded by other German colonies and some Irish in the Town of Erin. The Anglo-Americans, or Yankees, dwindled from 17% in 1850 to 10% in 1860. Germans and Yankees had quite the cultural divide, and while they held stereotypes about each other, there were moments of mutual dependence and respect.
Johann Schätzel of Germantown got along well with his Yankee neighbor from Pennsylvania, who helped him build his log cabin. Schätzel’s daughter even wanted to marry a Yankee, which he supported, noting that they were Christians and natives of the land. However, Johann’s younger brother Valentin painted a less rosy picture, criticizing the Americans for their lack of religion and tendency to cheat Germans.
Despite these mixed feelings, interaction decreased as more Germans arrived. Yankees and Germans lived in somewhat separate worlds, as reflected in letters and newspapers of the time. Tensions occasionally flared, culminating in a dramatic 1855 lynching in Washington County where a mob of Germans killed a New-York-born farmhand who had murdered one of their own.
Love in the Time of Migration: Marriage patterns among the Hessians in Wisconsin were fascinating. The 1860 census reveals that 94% of Hessian couples had both partners from German-speaking areas. Only a small number married French, New Yorkers, Pennsylvanians, or Englishmen, and just one married an Irish person. In the Darmstädter Settlements, three out of four Hessian-born residents who married before 1860 chose Hessian partners, with some even traveling back to Rheinhessen to find a spouse.
However, by the end of the settlement period, marriages with people from other parts of Germany became more common, and purely Hessian couples declined to one-third.
So there you have it! The tale of Hessian settlers in Wisconsin is one of adventure, community, and cultural blending, with a few bumps along the way. From their widespread settlements to their close-knit marriages, these early immigrants played a significant role in shaping the Wisconsin we know today.
Livelihood
Imagine packing up your life and moving to a place where everything you know about farming gets turned upside down. That’s what happened to many Rheinhessen immigrants who came to Wisconsin. Back in their village of Selzen, the average farm size was just a little under nine acres. Fast forward to 1860, and these new Wisconsin farmers were boasting an impressive 70 acres each, with about 41 of those acres already prepped for farming. That’s nearly eight times the land they had back home!
In Rheinhessen, forests were practically nonexistent, and wood had to be imported at a high cost. So, you can imagine the awe of these immigrants when they found their Wisconsin farms surrounded by abundant forests, providing all the firewood and building materials they could ever need.
German settlers in Washington County earned a stellar reputation for their farming skills. Even though they didn’t farm as much land as their Anglo-American neighbors, they worked the land more thoroughly and achieved higher production rates. John Gregory, a land agent in Milwaukee, noted in a handbook for Irish immigrants in 1853 that an industrious and skillful German could get more out of one acre than a country farmer could out of five. High praise indeed!
Back in Rheinhessen, land was scarce and every inch was used for grain production, mainly wheat, rye, barley, and oats. Many families also had small vineyards. Cattle and other animals were kept mainly for home use. When these settlers arrived in Washington County, they initially tried to stick to their traditional German farming methods as much as possible, adopting American methods only when necessary.
The agricultural censuses of the time reveal interesting differences in production methods between Germans and Anglo-Americans. Yankees were all about diversified farming right from the start, while Germans were more traditional. In 1849, for instance, Yankees in old Washington County produced 93 bushels of wheat per farm, compared to 72 bushels by Germans. However, Germans produced a whopping 42 bushels of rye per farm, ten times more than the Yankees and Irishmen, since rye was essential for baking bread back home. Germans also produced twice as much barley as the Anglo-Americans, although their eight bushels per farm were just the beginning; this number grew as the demand from breweries increased. Products like Indian corn and maple sugar were new to the Germans, but they quickly started producing them, albeit on a smaller scale than the Yankees.
So, in this grand adventure of adapting and thriving, Rheinhessen immigrants proved to be resourceful, blending their old-world farming traditions with the opportunities and challenges of their new American home.
The Evolution of Farming and Community Life in Wisconsin
Fast forward ten years, and southern Washington County was still a patchwork of differences between the Germans and Yankees, but things were beginning to even out, especially among the early immigrant farmers. By then, many Hessen-Darmstädters had been tilling the soil for nearly two decades and had become pros at blending their traditional farming techniques with new ones. They still produced nearly as much rye and barley as other Germans, but wheat was becoming their new favorite. On average, they harvested 128 bushels, putting them right between their German peers (101 bushels) and the Yankees (155 bushels).
Grain farming was the bread and butter for farmers in Washington and Sheboygan Counties for two decades after 1860. But as Wisconsin's wheat lost its luster on the national and international markets, dairy farming began to take over. The shift started with the Anglo-Americans and soon spread to everyone else. By 1885, food crops and market cereals shared equal ground in Washington County.
The 1860 census revealed that the Darmstädter Settlements weren’t big on cheese and butter yet. However, the Rheinhessians were eager learners and picked up cheese-making skills from their Yankee neighbors, producing 18 pounds of cheese per year—double the German average. As dairy farming gained traction, the number of cows steadily increased, turning cheese into a significant income source. In the Town of Rhine, Sheboygan County's Hessian hub, dairy farming took off later but grew rapidly. The first cheese factory there, launched in 1872 by Helwig Feldmann, thrived thanks to skills learned from Hiram Conover and some hands-on training in New York State.
Religious Life
Farmers had little downtime, so churches became the heart of religious and social life. Until the late 19th century, secular clubs (Vereine) were rare in the Darmstädter Settlements. Most Rheinhessians belonged to the Evangelical Church, a union of Reformed and Lutheran congregations founded in 1822. They established United Protestant congregations in Wisconsin, the earliest being St. John's Evangelical Church in Germantown, founded in 1843. In many places, each German group had its own congregation. In Germantown, there was the "Hunsrücker Kirche," and around the Town of Rhine, people referred to St. Peter, Immanuel, or St. John as the "Darmstädter Kirche," "Lipper Kirche," or "Schwarzwälder Kirche," respectively.
Some Rheinhessians ventured into denominations unknown in Germany, partly due to the scarcity of Lutheran or Reformed ministers in Washington County until the 1860s and the influence of active German-speaking itinerant preachers. By the early 1860s, the Darmstädter section of Richfield boasted three congregations: the united Lutheran-Reformed church, the Evangelical Association (a Pennsylvania-German offshoot of Methodism), and the First Presbyterian Church of Richfield.
Others brought a liberal religious philosophy from Germany, where, since the mid-1700s and especially post-French Revolution, many had questioned traditional Christian doctrines. They founded the Deutschkatholische Kirche (German-Catholic Church) in 1844. Rheinhessen became a hub for German-Catholic activities, and congregations popped up in cities and rural areas alike. This movement attracted political liberals and was closely monitored and suppressed by the government after the failed 1848 revolution. Some preachers emigrated to Wisconsin, like Eduard Schröter and Heinrich Loose, who continued their freethinking ways and found a receptive audience among the settlers.
By the end of 1852, Wisconsin had 30 freethinker congregations, including the Freimännerverein von Germantown, the Freie Gemeinde der Towns Polk und Richfield, and the Freie Gemeinde von Town Rhine. Most of these groups were short-lived due to organizational challenges and waning support. After their decline, many settlers did not join any churches and even opposed their establishment. One pastor arriving in the Town of Rhine in 1859 was bluntly told, "We don't need any Pfaffen (priests), we are in a free country."
Thus, the immigrants of Washington and Sheboygan Counties navigated a colorful blend of old traditions and new opportunities, from their evolving farming practices to their diverse religious communities.
The Civil War and its Impact on the Darmstädter Settlements
Life in the Darmstädter Settlements was pretty uneventful, much like the rest of rural Wisconsin. In 1881, someone described the Town of Polk as a place where honest and hardworking people had transformed the forest into a peaceful and prosperous home. However, one event during those thirty years did shake things up: the Civil War.
Many German immigrants weren’t thrilled about sending their sons to war, especially since many young men had left Germany to avoid military service. Most Germans in Wisconsin supported the Democratic Party and viewed the conflict as 'Lincoln's War.' Washington County townships contributed significant funds to the Northern troops, but German volunteer numbers were low until the war's end. Tensions even led to riots when draft commissioners pressured immigrants. In Sheboygan County, however, the Germans, influenced by leaders like Konrad Krez, were generally more supportive of the war than their southern neighbors. German newspapers urged their readers to volunteer, arguing that as adopted citizens, they should show as much patriotism as the Anglo-Americans. To rally the Rheinhessians, the Sheboygan National Demokrat published a version of "Yankee Doodle" in the Pennsylvania Dutch dialect, which was similar to the dialect spoken in southern Hessen-Darmstadt.
The war pushed immigrants a step closer to American culture. Those who served became more aware than ever that they were part of a nation worth fighting for. In 1868, the residents of the Town of Rhine erected a war monument to honor their soldiers' bravery, a rare act in rural areas of the United States and Germany at the time, but common in Rheinhessen. This early war monument with names of German and Anglo-American casualties was both a patriotic gesture and a continuation of a Rheinhessian tradition.
Hessen-Darmstädters in Milwaukee
Many immigrants spent time in Milwaukee before buying farmland, and some, especially craftsmen, chose to stay in the city. In 1860, one in five Hessians in Wisconsin lived in Milwaukee, and a significant number were from Rheinhessen. They maintained close contact with relatives and friends in the Darmstädter Settlements. For instance, Philipp Walldorf, who arrived in Milwaukee in 1856, enjoyed the city’s nightlife a bit too much. His cousin, fifty miles north in Town Rhine, heard about his antics, and soon his parents in Germany sent him a stern letter.
The social network of Rheinhessians in Milwaukee had its perks too. Many immigrants found work in businesses owned by people from their home regions, particularly in the burgeoning brewing industry. Rheinhessians played a crucial role in Milwaukee's early breweries. Philipp Best from Mettenheim founded a brewery in 1844, which under his son-in-law Frederick Pabst, became the Pabst Brewery, one of the nation's giants. His brother Charles Best opened the Plank Road Brewery, later sold to Fred Miller, an immigrant from Württemberg. Other notable brewers included Johann Braun from Partenheim, whose widow married Valentin Blatz after Braun's death, merging their breweries, and Joseph Schlitz, who married the widow of August Krug and turned his company into a major player.
Why did people from a wine-growing region dominate the beer industry? Perhaps it was because some, like Joseph Schlitz, had been trained as coopers and knew both wine and beer production. Rheinhessians were also among Milwaukee's wine dealers, importing large quantities of wine from their homeland.
Conclusion
Rheinhessian immigrants to Wisconsin adapted to their new environment while preserving their traditions. They enlarged wheat production but still grew enough rye for their traditional foods. The tension between Protestantism and German-Catholicism became more apparent in Wisconsin’s free intellectual climate. Eduard Schröter once noted that his humanist ministry on Lake Michigan was as successful as it had been in Worms on the Rhine.
German remained the everyday language in the Darmstädter Settlements of Washington and Sheboygan Counties until the mid-20th century, taught by parents and Sunday school teachers but rarely in public schools. In these communities, the ancestral dialect was often far from standard German. When Roland Schomberg began teaching first graders in the Town of Rhine area in the early 1930s, he had to teach them English in German. Despite these language barriers, if mayor Neeb met some of the elders today, he could still converse with them in Rheinhessian, just as we do now.
