For the next few posts, I'm going to indulge myself by including some speculative scenes - recreations of events as they may have been experienced at the time..
Always in italics, these 'cameos' are intended, like any other illustration, to add life and colour to the story. Please bear in mind, that although based on known facts, these scenes are FICTION. Personalities are merely supposed, and appearances guessed at. At times I have used astrological profiles based on date and place of birth. 'Dolly' Niewand, for example, is almost pure fiction. We don't know what she really looked like, or what the children called her - but I had a lot of fun inventing her!
Now bear with me while I set the scene...
In 1848, the Ministry of Finance in Hanover and the local authorities in the Harz decided to provide financial assistance to emigrants in the form of an interest-free loan, to be repaid within three or four years. South Australia seemed a suitable place, as the new copper mine at Burra would provide employment for experienced miners, and letters from earlier German emigrants were favourable.
The consul of the Kingdom of Hanover to South Australia, Mr C.L. Meyer, was in Bremen at the time and added his recommendation of the new colony. Mr Meyer also offered to help the emigrants to establish themselves. (And to collect the loan repayments, for a small consideration.)
On 8th August 1848, public notices went up, detailing the government’s offer of financial aid for emigration. Information on the climate of South Australia, average wages and the cost of living was also given. Within a few weeks, over 700 people applied. They gave many reasons for wishing to leave, mainly poverty, and a desire for a better future for their children. Some also hoped for less exhausting work, or wanted to escape their in-laws. Those with large debts or large families were weeded out, as were the sick. Dependants could not be left behind as a continuing drain on the government, either.
You'll recall that at this point the family consisted of Dorothea Niewandt (Dolly) and her stepchildren Henriette (Nettie), Friedrich (Fred) and his wife Henriette, Frederika (Freda), and Heinrich (Heinie). It's August, 1848, and Fred and Heinie have finished work for the day...
“Hurry up Heinie, your supper will be cold!” The speaker stood in the road, the late summer sun casting long shadows behind him.
“Hang on Fred, I’m just reading this notice – didn’t you see it?”
“Another notice, who cares? They put up so many – don’t do this, remember that, mind the rules….” The speaker was clearly more interested in his evening meal.
“No, this isn’t about the mine, look!”
Humouring his younger brother, Fred walked over to the notice-board outside the mine office. “Opportunities in Australia” he read and shrugged. “and how are we supposed to get there?”
“It says here the Government will pay our fares, or at least give us loans” retorted Heinie, and grinned. “They obviously want to get rid of some of us.”
Fred smiled too “I can just see myself going home and telling Henriette that we’re off to Australia – like fun!” Heinie laughed aloud; everyone knew his sister-in-law wasn’t one to mince her words.
The brothers stepped out along the path, and nothing more was said on the subject.
But oddly, when Fred mentioned the notice that evening as they ate their supper, Henriette seemed quite interested. She knew that easygoing Fred would stay where he was, doing the same old work, until the day he died. Which was just as likely to be sooner than later, Henriette reflected sadly.
She had already lost her first husband in a mining accident, and she knew miners didn’t make old bones anyway, especially drillers like Fred – the dust got into their lungs, and they coughed their way to the grave.
Despite her sharp tongue, Henriette loved her husband, who worked so hard to keep her and the girls, when there was work to be had. She knew how disappointed he’d been at missing out on the overseer’s job, and it would have meant guaranteed work hours, too. She wouldn’t mind taking a look at that notice herself……
Fourteen groups left the Harz between 1848 and 1854. Once an application had been accepted, often only 4-6 weeks before the sailing date, the family had to sell all those possessions that couldn’t be taken along, and equip themselves as best they could for their new lives. New clothes would be made or bought, and all the necessary paperwork, birth certificates and passports obtained. Goodbyes must have been very hard; for the emigrants leaving parents, brothers and sisters, and the graves of lost children; and for those who stayed behind, farewelling their sons and daughters, knowing they would never see them again in this life, or the grandchildren yet unborn.
The Niewandt family must have been among the early applicants, as they left on the third ship bound for Australia, the Ceres, in December 1849. The passenger list shows Dorothea Niewandt, widow, accompanied by her children Henriette, Friederike, and Heinrich; and Friedrich and his wife Henriette accompanied by the two Dahle girls. The timing could not have been worse for Christian and Henriette, because she was about to have another child, and the baby would be born on the ship.
Other family and friends were part of the group that left Lautenthal for Australia. Andreas Conrad Martin Niewandt was a second cousin to our family. His wife, a relative of Henriette, had recently died, and perhaps he thought a fresh start would be best. Henriette’s sister-in-law, her husband and their small children were also going.
Showing posts with label Niewands. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Niewands. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
The family in Lautenthal
Time to do a little genealogy, and look at the composition of the Niewandt family in Lautenthal. Unfortunately it's not possible to post clear diagrams here, so we'll have to make do with a narrative.
Village life centred on the Lutheran church, a beautiful Baroque building built in the mid 1600s. The singing of hymns was an important part of worship, aided by an impressive organ, and membership of the choir was a privilege to be proud of.
The church registers trace the family from 1785, when Heinrich Christian Niewandt married Dorothea Elizabeth Buckbach. Heinrich gave his father's name as Christoph Niewandt, of Bad Grund, thus confirming his descent from the family there.
In 1818, his son, Johann Heinrich Christian Niewandt, married Johanne Friederike Elizabeth Richter, and they had at least four children -
Henriette, b. 1818
Christian Friedrich, b. 1820
Frederika, b. 1824
Heinrich Christian Andreas, b. 1830 (my great-grandfather)
Johann's wife died in 1834, and he remarried in the same year to Dorothea Sauerbrei, who had a son, August Lauchs, from a previous marriage.
Johann died in 1846, leaving Dorothea as head of the family.
In the same year, Friedrich married Henriette Dahle (nee Schubert) who had two daughters, Julie and Minna, from her first marriage.
Also living in Lautenthal were Johann's cousin Julius Niewandt, his wife Johanne, and their son Andreas Conrad Martin Niewandt. (possibly there were other Niewandts too, but these are the immediate family)
In the 1840s, life in Lautenthal was becoming increasingly uncertain. Everywhere in the Harz, the mining industry was in decline. Some of the mines had been worked for over 700 years, and their great depth made ore extraction expensive. Imports of cheaper lead from South America caused prices to fall, putting many miners out of work. Everyone expected the mines to close in the next few years.
The mines were owned and operated by the government, and were fast becoming more of a liability than an asset. The miners were well looked after by the standards of the day - they had free medical attention, and pensions were paid to retired miners or their widows and orphans. Even if there was less work for them, miners were not usually discharged, but would receive an unemployment benefit. The amounts paid were very small, but the population was growing, and poor relief was an increasing drain on the government.
Clearly this situation could not continue, and the Hanoverian government began to consider assisted emigration as a solution.
(They did not move fast enough for some people, apparently; they burned their houses down so that they would have nowhere to live, and force the government to act. Not my family, as far as I know)
As the Niewandt family faced an uncertain future, the world outside the Harz was changing profoundly. The population of Europe was growing rapidly, and in Germany food production was not keeping pace with population growth. There was widespread unemployment, and mechanisation was making entire trades obsolete.
Across the seas, America had become an independent country, hungry for settlers, and many German people were already established there. Australia too was beginning to look past its beginnings as a convict dumping-ground, and realise the need for free settlers to develop the country’s potential.
The Niewandts would have been well aware of the opportunities in the New World – there is a record of a Heinrich Niewand living in Montgomery, New York State in 1793. All they needed was the means to get there.
photos from the website Paul-Gerhard-kirchengemeinde Lautenthal
 |
Village life centred on the Lutheran church, a beautiful Baroque building built in the mid 1600s. The singing of hymns was an important part of worship, aided by an impressive organ, and membership of the choir was a privilege to be proud of.
The church registers trace the family from 1785, when Heinrich Christian Niewandt married Dorothea Elizabeth Buckbach. Heinrich gave his father's name as Christoph Niewandt, of Bad Grund, thus confirming his descent from the family there.
In 1818, his son, Johann Heinrich Christian Niewandt, married Johanne Friederike Elizabeth Richter, and they had at least four children -
Henriette, b. 1818
Christian Friedrich, b. 1820
Frederika, b. 1824
Heinrich Christian Andreas, b. 1830 (my great-grandfather)
 |
| the church organ |
Johann died in 1846, leaving Dorothea as head of the family.
In the same year, Friedrich married Henriette Dahle (nee Schubert) who had two daughters, Julie and Minna, from her first marriage.
Also living in Lautenthal were Johann's cousin Julius Niewandt, his wife Johanne, and their son Andreas Conrad Martin Niewandt. (possibly there were other Niewandts too, but these are the immediate family)
In the 1840s, life in Lautenthal was becoming increasingly uncertain. Everywhere in the Harz, the mining industry was in decline. Some of the mines had been worked for over 700 years, and their great depth made ore extraction expensive. Imports of cheaper lead from South America caused prices to fall, putting many miners out of work. Everyone expected the mines to close in the next few years.
The mines were owned and operated by the government, and were fast becoming more of a liability than an asset. The miners were well looked after by the standards of the day - they had free medical attention, and pensions were paid to retired miners or their widows and orphans. Even if there was less work for them, miners were not usually discharged, but would receive an unemployment benefit. The amounts paid were very small, but the population was growing, and poor relief was an increasing drain on the government.
Clearly this situation could not continue, and the Hanoverian government began to consider assisted emigration as a solution.
(They did not move fast enough for some people, apparently; they burned their houses down so that they would have nowhere to live, and force the government to act. Not my family, as far as I know)
As the Niewandt family faced an uncertain future, the world outside the Harz was changing profoundly. The population of Europe was growing rapidly, and in Germany food production was not keeping pace with population growth. There was widespread unemployment, and mechanisation was making entire trades obsolete.
Across the seas, America had become an independent country, hungry for settlers, and many German people were already established there. Australia too was beginning to look past its beginnings as a convict dumping-ground, and realise the need for free settlers to develop the country’s potential.
The Niewandts would have been well aware of the opportunities in the New World – there is a record of a Heinrich Niewand living in Montgomery, New York State in 1793. All they needed was the means to get there.
photos from the website Paul-Gerhard-kirchengemeinde Lautenthal
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Life in Lautenthal
The record of St Andreas Kirche in Lautenthal show the Niewand family living there from 1785 until they emigrated in 1849. Lautenthal takes its name from the Laute river which flows through the town, and is an ancient village, dating back to at least the 1530s, though the area was inhabited for thousands of years before that.
The old mine buildings at Lautenthal house a Museum of Mining. It is even possible to be married in the old mine chapel. For the traditionally minded, St. Andreas Kirche still faces the Markplatz as it has done since Martin Luther’s day, though he might be surprised to discover that the church is now shared with the Catholic congregation!
Many residents today run guest houses for visitors, or work in the tourist industry. A modern tourist brochure lists the attractions: in the winter there are snow sports, in the summer sailing on the lakes and hiking through the forests. You can also take a health cure at one of the sanitariums, which features a pump house for the mineral water, a heated pool and mud wraps. The fresh, clean mountain air is an added attraction.
Mining in the Harz
Archeological studies have shown that there were mines in the Harz since the 3rd century. This early mining was done with the simplest technologies. The mines were just holes in the ground down to a depth of about 40 metres, and the ore was brought up with hand winches. Between 1348 and 1379 the Black Death (bubonic plague) raged across Europe; nearly all the people in the Harz died and mining ceased.
In 1532, a prospector found a large silver deposit in the valley of the Laute river, and mining began again with the support of the regional lords. As so many years had passed, nobody knew how to mine any more, and workers had to be recruited from other mining regions.
Most of them came from the Erzgebirge region, near the Czechoslovakian border, and they settled in the Harz with their families. To encourage the new workers, the lords granted special privileges, called "Bergfreiheit" (literally ‘freedom of the mountain). These privileges included
Lautenthal, like most of the towns in the western Harz, dates from this time, and the area soon became prosperous. Originally silver was mined, and later lead, zinc, tin, and some copper. Mining continued there until the 1930’s, when cheaper foreign ore caused most of the mines to close.
Only two mines continued: the Rammelsberg at Goslar, closed in 1988, and the Hilfe Gottes at Bad Grund, which closed in 1992.
Mining has always been difficult, dirty and dangerous work, and the Harz mines were no different. Despite their privileges, the miners of Lautenthal and Bad Grund worked long and hard for their wages.
Originally the only light the miners had was a candle – just one candle each, there was no other lighting in the shafts or in the tunnels. Later carbide lamps were used, and eventually electric lighting.
As the mineral veins were followed into the rock, the mines became ever deeper – some of them as much as 400 metres below ground. So every morning the miners climbed down on ladders. It took about an hour to get down to the working face, and after they had worked their 8 or 12 hour shift, another 2 hours to climb back up again. This 3 hours of climbing wasn’t paid time, either.
In the 1830’s someone finally invented a kind of Bosun’s Ladder, powered by the mine waterwheel, which shortened the up and down time to about 20 minutes each way. Even better, hardly any physical energy was needed. It wasn’t terribly safe, of course, but one can’t have everything.
In the 16th century the only power source for the mines was the huge wooden waterwheels. which enabled the ore to be winched up to the surface. To power these wheels, reservoirs were dug, over 70 of them through the area, connected by ditches.
The only way to keep the mines dry enough for working, was by means of drainage tunnels cut through the rock. For a long time there was no powder or dynamite for blasting, so the tunnels were hewn out by hand with a hammer and miner’s bar. A miner could cut out about 3 metres of rock in a year.
Every mine had a chapel near the entrance, where the miners would assemble before going underground. Here prayers would be said at the start of each shift, followed by a roll call. This not only recorded each man’s working hours, but enabled the management to know how many men were underground in case of an accident.
The miners were well trained – a young miner or Berggesell, (literally ‘miner’s mate’) served an apprenticeship before he could call himself a Bergmann (miner). But miners didn’t often make old bones; if you managed not to fall down a shaft, and avoided anything heavy falling on you, there was still the prospect of ‘miner’s disease’ or silicosis. This was a lung disease caused by breathing the dust in the mines.
If mining was hard on the men, it was also hard on the local countryside. Rivers were dammed and the original forests were cut down for timbering the mine tunnels, and later to make charcoal for smelting the ore. The native bears and wolves are now extinct, but lynxes, which were also extinct, have recently been re-introduced to the Harz. Deer, foxes, and badgers still remain.
Extensive reforestation has also taken place - the Harz is now a National Park - and there is a beautiful Arboretum at Bad Grund.
If you want to know more about the region, there are websites for the Harz, Bad Grund, and Lautenthal.
(Click to enlarge pictures)
Illustration from a book published in 1658. Plumes of smoke at left from the smelters.
The old mine buildings at Lautenthal house a Museum of Mining. It is even possible to be married in the old mine chapel. For the traditionally minded, St. Andreas Kirche still faces the Markplatz as it has done since Martin Luther’s day, though he might be surprised to discover that the church is now shared with the Catholic congregation!
Mining in the Harz
Archeological studies have shown that there were mines in the Harz since the 3rd century. This early mining was done with the simplest technologies. The mines were just holes in the ground down to a depth of about 40 metres, and the ore was brought up with hand winches. Between 1348 and 1379 the Black Death (bubonic plague) raged across Europe; nearly all the people in the Harz died and mining ceased.
In 1532, a prospector found a large silver deposit in the valley of the Laute river, and mining began again with the support of the regional lords. As so many years had passed, nobody knew how to mine any more, and workers had to be recruited from other mining regions.
Most of them came from the Erzgebirge region, near the Czechoslovakian border, and they settled in the Harz with their families. To encourage the new workers, the lords granted special privileges, called "Bergfreiheit" (literally ‘freedom of the mountain). These privileges included
- exemption from taxation
- the right to hunt
- the right to brew
- the right to fish
- the right to cut wood
- the right to vote
 |
| Lautenthal coat of arms |
Lautenthal, like most of the towns in the western Harz, dates from this time, and the area soon became prosperous. Originally silver was mined, and later lead, zinc, tin, and some copper. Mining continued there until the 1930’s, when cheaper foreign ore caused most of the mines to close.
Only two mines continued: the Rammelsberg at Goslar, closed in 1988, and the Hilfe Gottes at Bad Grund, which closed in 1992.
Mining has always been difficult, dirty and dangerous work, and the Harz mines were no different. Despite their privileges, the miners of Lautenthal and Bad Grund worked long and hard for their wages.
Originally the only light the miners had was a candle – just one candle each, there was no other lighting in the shafts or in the tunnels. Later carbide lamps were used, and eventually electric lighting.
As the mineral veins were followed into the rock, the mines became ever deeper – some of them as much as 400 metres below ground. So every morning the miners climbed down on ladders. It took about an hour to get down to the working face, and after they had worked their 8 or 12 hour shift, another 2 hours to climb back up again. This 3 hours of climbing wasn’t paid time, either.
In the 1830’s someone finally invented a kind of Bosun’s Ladder, powered by the mine waterwheel, which shortened the up and down time to about 20 minutes each way. Even better, hardly any physical energy was needed. It wasn’t terribly safe, of course, but one can’t have everything.
The only way to keep the mines dry enough for working, was by means of drainage tunnels cut through the rock. For a long time there was no powder or dynamite for blasting, so the tunnels were hewn out by hand with a hammer and miner’s bar. A miner could cut out about 3 metres of rock in a year.
Every mine had a chapel near the entrance, where the miners would assemble before going underground. Here prayers would be said at the start of each shift, followed by a roll call. This not only recorded each man’s working hours, but enabled the management to know how many men were underground in case of an accident.
The miners were well trained – a young miner or Berggesell, (literally ‘miner’s mate’) served an apprenticeship before he could call himself a Bergmann (miner). But miners didn’t often make old bones; if you managed not to fall down a shaft, and avoided anything heavy falling on you, there was still the prospect of ‘miner’s disease’ or silicosis. This was a lung disease caused by breathing the dust in the mines.
If mining was hard on the men, it was also hard on the local countryside. Rivers were dammed and the original forests were cut down for timbering the mine tunnels, and later to make charcoal for smelting the ore. The native bears and wolves are now extinct, but lynxes, which were also extinct, have recently been re-introduced to the Harz. Deer, foxes, and badgers still remain.
Extensive reforestation has also taken place - the Harz is now a National Park - and there is a beautiful Arboretum at Bad Grund.
If you want to know more about the region, there are websites for the Harz, Bad Grund, and Lautenthal.
Images in this post from Wikimedia & Wikicommons
Monday, December 19, 2011
My father
Now that I've finshed the story of my Irish ancestors, it's time to explore my German heritage.
Before we look at the history of the Niewand family, I'd like you to meet my Dad.
He was the grandson of German immigrants who came to Australia in the early 1850s, eventually settling at Minyip, Victoria.
Dad was a devoted husband and father, who showed his love by working hard all his life to give us everything he could.
A quiet and unassuming man, he had no enemies, and many friends. When he died, my mother, my sister and I were surprised at just how many people came to pay their last respects, and in some cases to speak of some small kindness he'd done them.
Always a farmer at heart, he had built up a successful poultry farm and hatchery at Barkers Creek, but the last few years of his life were spent as a shopkeeper in Castlemaine.
Dad loved his chooks, and also enjoyed woodwork; wherever we lived he built something - poultry sheds, a new kitchen for Mum, small items of furniture. He treasured an old carpentry book - and his tools (woe betide the child who left a paintbrush uncleaned) and once told me that if he'd had the choice, he would have liked to be a cabinet-maker.
For as long as he lived, I knew that I was truly loved; no matter what I did, or what mistakes I made, I could always be sure of his love and support. And he taught me to waltz.
Before we look at the history of the Niewand family, I'd like you to meet my Dad.
John Frederick Niewand was born at Willaura in Victoria on November 16th, 1906.
He died at Castlemaine on September 16th, 1962.
Dad was a devoted husband and father, who showed his love by working hard all his life to give us everything he could.
A quiet and unassuming man, he had no enemies, and many friends. When he died, my mother, my sister and I were surprised at just how many people came to pay their last respects, and in some cases to speak of some small kindness he'd done them.
Always a farmer at heart, he had built up a successful poultry farm and hatchery at Barkers Creek, but the last few years of his life were spent as a shopkeeper in Castlemaine.
Dad loved his chooks, and also enjoyed woodwork; wherever we lived he built something - poultry sheds, a new kitchen for Mum, small items of furniture. He treasured an old carpentry book - and his tools (woe betide the child who left a paintbrush uncleaned) and once told me that if he'd had the choice, he would have liked to be a cabinet-maker.
For as long as he lived, I knew that I was truly loved; no matter what I did, or what mistakes I made, I could always be sure of his love and support. And he taught me to waltz.
Monday, August 29, 2011
Another January Wedding
As the man and the girl walk slowly across the village square, the snow squeaks under their feet, and a weak winter sun glints on the long icicles hanging from the eaves of the houses.
It is very quiet, and very cold. There a few people in the square; the miners are hard at work in the comparative warmth of the tunnels, and most others are indoors, in snug stove-heated houses. No such comfort in the church ahead, for it is a weekday, and their business will not take long enough to warrant heating the church.
 |
| St. Antonius Kirche, Bad Grund |
The silent couple are Dorothea Echert and her father, Andreas. Dorothea is perhaps glad of the thick clothing and cloak dictated by the weather, for they at least cover her shame. Dorothea is eight months pregnant, and a disgrace to her family. The village is Bad Grund, in the Harz Mountains of Hanover, and the date is the 5th of January, in the year 1745.
 |
| View of Bad Grund, Harz |
Above their heads, the bells of St. Antonius Kirche are silent too. No bells will ring for Dorothea and Johann, and no wedding party will follow their marriage.
Such celebrations are for couples who marry with the blessing of their families, in the warmer months, when there is food aplenty, and sunshine, and family and friends can join in the festivities.
During the ceremony, the young couple keep their eyes prudently on the floor. Such a fuss there has been! For Johann, at only 21, is still a Bergesell (apprentice miner) and under the strict rules of the mining guild, he is not supposed to marry until he has completed his apprenticeship.
The pastor having protested that such a scandalous state of affairs cannot be allowed to continue, permission for the marriage has finally been given, but Johann will be fined, and his apprenticeship may be extended.
The newlyweds will make their home with Johann’s family, and Dorothea is not too sure how she will like sharing a kitchen with Johann’s mother, Gesa Maria. Everyone knows there is something strange about her, for she never attends the church, not even for baptisms or weddings. Some say she has offended the pastor, but no one will talk about it. Still, Johann obviously loves his mother, and says she is a wonderful cook. So perhaps it will be all right.
Outside the church, Dorothea's father touches her shoulder awkwardly and leaves them. As the young couple follow Hennig Niewandt down the snowy street, Dorothea steals a look at her new husband and meets a pair of merry dark eyes. Yes, this is still her sweetheart, this cheeky young man who has been teasing her for years, and finally won her heart at the church picnic last spring. It will be all right!
And presumably it was, for Dorothea and Johann went on to have seven children. Their first child, Maria Sophia, arrived just a month after the wedding, on February 10th. (One hopes that the grandparents were soon won over by baby smiles and chuckles.)
Dorothea and Johann’s third child, Zacharias Christian Niewandt, was my great-great-great grandfather.
My account of that first wedding is of course fiction, but is based on my visit to the Harz in October 1991, and what I have been able to discover of the customs and beliefs of the time. Plus a personal conviction that human nature and emotions don’t change very much. There are plenty of parallels for Dorothea and Johann in later generations!
Saturday, August 27, 2011
A rose by any other name...
 |
| Rosa mutabilis |
I was apparently quite insistent on this unusual spelling, and Mum and Dad could never work out how it originated (this was well before I could read).
Mum used the Jones family to good advantage, though, long after I'd forgotten them.
Our family name was NIEWAND. The original family name was NIEWANDT, according to the old church registers I have seen. This has undergone several changes in Australia, the main branches of the family now using the forms NIEWAND, NEIWAND, and NEIVANDT.
Family members still living in Germany now use the form NIEWAND. The original pronunciation of Niewandt was neevahnt. Niewands today say neewond.
The name is frequently confused and mis-spelled by those unfamiliar with it; I've seen some hilarious attempts myself.
Mum decided to make life easier all round by adopting a pseudonym, and became, occasionally, Mrs. G.G.Jones. I saw her do it one day in the Myers store in Melbourne. She was leaving a parcel to be collected later, and calmly gave her name as Mrs. G. Jones.
After her death, we found a couple of letters addressed to Mrs. G. G. Jones, replies from MP's she had writtten to.
I became Marcie Carr when I married, and I was quite happy to keep the name after my divorce. I'm proud of my German and Irish forbears, but Carr is so much easier to spell. Mind you, people still ask sometimes "how do you spell that?" Really.
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