Friday, November 4, 2016

The Failed Quest for a New German State in Arkansas and Missouri, 1833 and 1834

(Note: this is a lightly updated blog published a couple of years ago on another site.)

I followed with great interest a traveling exhibit entitled Utopia: Revisiting a German State that was shown at the Missouri History Museum from late November 2014 until April 2015. [1]  The exhibit celebrated the 180th anniversary of the 1834 arrival of about 500 Germans, members of the Giessener Emigration Society, in St. Louis. They had traveled to Missouri to try to establish a German state there.

The origin of the exhibit could be traced to an East German student, Henry Schneider, who about three decades earlier had run across the story of the Giessener Emigration Society while doing research on a script for a screen writing class.[2]  His efforts to write a script based on the Society’s  experiences faltered, but a couple of decades later, in 2004, he mentioned the Giessener group to Peter Roloff, a Berlin film maker, who also became fascinated with its little-known story.

To learn more about the topic, Roloff assembled a group of friends in the summer of 2005 to discuss the Giessener Emigration Society and their research about it. The amorphous group, which called itself the Traveling Summer Republic (TSR), held annual summer meetings on the subject for several years. It invited some historians in Missouri who were knowledgeable about the Giessener Society to join the meetings. In 2009 and 2011, the group met in Missouri.[3]


The 20 or so members of the TSR -- historians, writers, film makers, photographers and artists -- curated the Utopia exhibit, which was managed and financed in part by the city of Giessen. They also wrote an outstanding and definitive book, Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, in both German and English, to accompany the exhibit, plus Roloff, the convener of the TSR, made two films about the topic.[4]   

The bilingual Utopia exhibit — spanning 3,000 square feet —opened in Giessen in November 2013, then moved to Bremen in April 2014. The exhibit had a brief stay in Washington, D.C. before the full exhibit opened at the Missouri History Museum in St. Louis in November 2014. According to the curators, they wanted the exhibit to convey both the physical feel of moving great distances and the emotional discomfort of going from the familiar to the new and unknown. Roloff explained that the goal was for visitors “to feel somehow the texture of time, of wanting freedom, of being afraid and maybe not succeeding as you had hoped.”[5] A history of the exhibit can be found, in German, at this link:  http://www.aufbruch-in-die-utopie.net/downloads/Project%20documentation.pdf

The Arkansas Connection

For Arkansans interested in the history of German immigration, the Utopia exhibit had bittersweet elements that inspired some envy of Missouri’s success in attracting the Giessener Emigration Society.  The thing is, the Giessener group had been planning to settle not in Missouri, but in the Arkansas Territory. However, as the emigrants gathered in March 1834 to travel from Bremen to Little Rock, they learned that an affiliated group, the Mainzner Emigration Society, had a miserable experience in Arkansas after it had journeyed there a year earlier.[6]  Also they were told by a scout who had just returned from Arkansas that it was an unsuitable site for the planned German state.

The bad experiences of the Mainzner group and the scout were caused to some extent by bad weather and water-related illnesses. The settlers, who arrived in Little Rock in May 1833, and the Giessner Society scout, who visited the city in the late fall, encountered a severe cholera epidemic afflicting travelers on the Mississippi and Arkansas Rivers. Also they observed devastating flooding along rivers and streams in Arkansas. Beyond that, they learned the hard way that malaria was widespread in the territory and discomfort from summer heat was much greater than expected.

But what if Arkansas’ weather had been better in 1833?  I often wondered, as many years ago I researched the George family, who came to Little Rock as part of the Mainzner group, what would have happened if Arkansas had had less flooding, cholera, and malaria in 1833. Would the Mainzner group have had at least modest success? In the absence of negative reports about the Arkansas Territory, would the Giessener group have traveled, as planned, to Little Rock and settled in the Arkansas Territory? Then, would other Germans have followed the Mainzner and Giessener groups to the Territory? If all of this had happened as planned, would Arkansas have become the German state desired by the emigrants?

Perhaps examining the experiences of the two emigration societies can help answer the question of whether Arkansas had a chance of becoming the German state envisioned by the Mainzner and Giessener Emigration Societies.

German Emigration Societies Plan a New German State in the Arkansas Territory

The idea of leaving the numerous duchies, grand-duchies, princedoms, principalities, and other sovereign entities that comprised Germany in the 1820s and 1830s appealed to many educated Germans who hoped to escape political repression and an ailing economy.[7] Interest in emigration was especially high in the Hessen area of Germany, including its two largest cities Frankfurt and Wiesbaden, and in neighboring Rheinhessen, where the cities of Mainz and Worms are located.

When two Hessen brothers-in-law Friedrich Münch, a country priest, and Paul Follenius, a lawyer in the university city of Giessen, published a pamphlet in 1833 detailing a plan to establish a German state within the United States, the response was enthusiastic. The pamphlet was titled “Call and Declaration Concerning an Emigration En Masse from Germany to the North American States.”[8] 
  
In the “Call and Declaration,” the plan was summarized as follows:

It is our idea that the better part of the many Germans who have decided to emigrate should settle as a group, united as a whole in keeping with the purified and presently existing political form and received into the great federation of states, so that in this way the survival of German customs, language, etc. should be secured, so that a free and popular form of life could be created.”

To be clear: the plan’s intention was for German settlers to “remain apart from the settled English and French American population….They did not want to become American.” Instead they wanted to “extensively cultivate German virtues, German customs, and the German language, raising their youth in conformity with this.” The goal was to replant their homeland, minus the political repression, in the United States.[9]

When the pamphlet was first published in March 1833, it quickly sold out, and a second edition was issued in July. It contained the rules governing the Society. They included a provision prohibiting aristocracy and slavery in the German Colony. Also, the rules stated that all authority of the Society, including any that was delegated, “rests alone in the totality of all voting heads of families, completely equal in rights and obligations.”

According to Münch, the pamphlet “was excellently received and encouraged us to become bold; thousands wanted to join us, and to help with the plans necessary for realization.”[10] The planned site for the new state was, tentatively, Arkansas, which was still a territory and in 1830 had just over 30,000 residents.

The idea was that similar societies and clubs would be set up “everywhere in Germany” and that these groups would remain in contact and support each other until “finally the chosen land (namely the so-called Territory of Arkansas…whither already early this year a large group has started) would be populated thoroughly with Germans.”[11]   The emigration would take place in waves until in about 25 years, 60,000 Germans would have settled an area. At that point, they could petition Congress to become a state.[12]

The Territory of Arkansas seemed inviting not only because it was not yet a state and had few people, but also because it was said to have delightful weather: there were reports that it was a “highland…with the enchanting climate of the Spanish plateau.” Little Rock was to be a “future Valencia.” In the “call and declaration” Arkansas was described as a region half the size of Germany, watered by the Arkansas, Mississippi, the Red and White Rivers. It was “blessed with all the riches of nature, healthy on its heights, with the climate of northern Italy, populated with colonies of benign Indians and scattered Frenchmen from Louisiana.”

Apparently, this optimistic description of Arkansas was based on travel accounts published during the first decade of the 1800s that were plagiarized, enhanced, and embellished in a chain of publications, including an 1832 emigration handbook written by H.W.E. Eggerling. That handbook was an important source of Follenius’ understanding of Arkansas’ climate and geography.[13]

According to Gert Göbel, an early German settler in Missouri who knew well several members of the Giessener group:

The society’s original plan was to found a settlement near Little Rock, Arkansas; a large complex of land was to be purchased, then of each member would receive 50 acres; the first houses were to be built communally and as close to one another as possible, just as livestock food stuff was to be provided from the collective account.[14]

The “call and declaration” prescribed that each home site of the Society’s colony should have at least 20 undivided acres. Beyond that, “Primary care should be taken that, even though agriculture will be the chief occupation, the layout should accommodate the conditions of a future town of crafts and trade.” In operating the colony, a “common treasury” would be maintained to cover “unavoidable common expenses.” Among those expenses would be the school teacher, the physician, and a clerk.

Related details of the plan, according to a German newspaper (The Hermit) story published in its April 11, 1834 edition were that the Society would purchase a large connected territory in Arkansas from the collective account and create a kind of metropolis with the name “Free City” (Freistadt). Then it would establish numerous villages from this central point outward. The settling of Freistadt and the surrounding villages would continue until the settlement had 60,000 citizens. [15]

It took only a few months in 1833 for the Giessener Emigration Society sign up 500 members, hold an organizational meeting, and begin preparing for the first wave of settlers to travel to the United States in the following year. In the meanwhile, a group affiliated group with the Giessener Society had departed for America in 1833. This group, the Mainzner Emigration Society, had assembled 160 to 400 people for the trip to the United States.[16]  According to Münch, “As they left Germany in March 1833, the leaders of the Mainzner Emigration Society saw themselves as the vanguard of the new movement.”[17] They expected the Giessener settlers to join them in Arkansas during the following year.

Arkansas: The Land of Missed Opportunity, 1833

On April 30,, 1833, the members of the Mainzner Emigration Society arrived in New Orleans on the Olbers, a 152-foot long sailing ship that had departed from Bremen on March 5th. Their 55-day trip took them to the West Indies and past Jamaica on their way to their final destination. The same ship would take the first group of Giessener Society settlers to New Orleans the following year.

On May 5th, about 140 of the German settlers continued their trip, going up the Mississippi and Arkansas Rivers to Little Rock. About 100 of them were on the Arkansaw steamboat; another 40 were aboard the Volant.  It was a bad time to be on these Rivers. According to one contemporary observer:

We have got cholera in its most aggravated type in this [Pulaski] county. Every boat that comes up the Arkansas is full of it….The cholera is five times as bad as it was last season…Great parts of our country have been inundated… All the farmers on the rivers are injured, and some completely ruined. This overflow will be another great source of sickness for those on the rivers. [18]

George Sandherr, who was in the group on the Arkansaw, wrote to his relatives in Germany, “The trip up the Mississippi and the Arkansas Rivers went fairly slowly because the ship was heavily loaded. During this time a young man, 14 years old, fell into the Mississippi and drowned. Also on this voyage, everyone had more or less violent attacks of the cholera. Ernst Kolb, from Göttenau, died of it after he was put ashore at the village of Montgomery.” [19]

The Arkansas Gazette reported on May 22, 1833 that the Arkansaw and the Volent had arrived in Little Rock earlier in the month.  The article observed:

The emigrants are mostly composed of families, appear to be to be intelligent and some of them quite refined, and have among them a due proportion of mechanics, farmers, etc. and the first party have their Minister, Physician, and Schoolmaster. All of them appear to be full-handed and some of them are wealthy.[20 ]

Only 140 of the Society members went to Arkansas because the others chose to go elsewhere. They could do so because the Emigration Society had dissolved itself due to bickering and disagreements even before the ship reached New Orleans; the “common funds” had been redistributed to the families.

This core group followed the original plan to travel to Little Rock. However, when it got there, its members could not agree on where to settle. Some wanted to buy land along the Arkansas River; others, who feared the River land would frequently flood, wanted less risky acreage. Ultimately, the 140 families ended up going to different five different locations, including one group to White County. The largest group, which included Gustav Klingelhöffer, a Lutheran pastor who was a leader of the Society, settled a colony near the North bank of the Arkansas River. That group regretted its decision in 1835-1836 when their lands were inundated and lives threatened by flooding.[21]

The emigrants who stayed in and around Little Rock were likely not too impressed with the city. It was a small, crude town of about 500 residents in a county of about 1,000 people. According to adventurer and writer Friedrich Gerstäcker, who first visited Little Rock in the later part of the 1830s, it was “one of the most awful holes in the United States.” When he returned a couple of years later, he found that the city had substantially improved, but he still did not like it, complaining that “every glass of water I drink tastes a bit like a corpse.”[22]

The lot of most of the settlers was a difficult one. In a letter Klingelhöffer sent to his brother in June 1834, a year after his arrival in Little Rock, he told of the toll that sickness has taken on him and other German settlers in 1833. He reported that he had a fever from January 1834 until the 10th of March. Beginning in June, he had cut back on his work “mindful of all the bitter experience from last year.”  He was restricting his work because “Much of what may be done in Germany, one must leave off here, if he does not want to ruin himself.” He mentioned that in the colony, a man named Knapp had recently died because he did a foolish thing: “He had malaria and during a fever, he lay down in a spring-fed brook to cool himself.”

Klingelhöffer complained bitterly about the behavior of Germans in his colony, saying they were the “lowest disgraceful creatures.” But, of course, he wrote, there are exceptions, and he mentioned those whose actions he found respectable. Among them was “Roth from Frankfurt,” a single man who was working a farm by himself. When Klingelhöffer’s wife asked Roth how he was getting along with “cooking and such,” He replied: “Quite well.” He elaborated, “I get up early, milk my cow, drink part of the milk along with bread and cheese spread. Then I work until noon, eat cheese and bread, work until evening, then eat the same thing, then before going to bed, I spend an hour with Knapp and Schön, who live nearby.”

At the conclusion of the letter, Klingelhöffer wrote: “I am just noticing that my letter has assumed too much of my present frame of mind. Do not be misled, however; the land is good, the constitution in good, the people are freedom-loving, but cold and egotistical.”[23]

The situation of the Klingelhöffer colony was grim when George William Featherstonhaugh visited it in November 1833, just a few months after it was established. He was in Arkansas conducting a geological survey for the U.S. government. He wrote:

[In some bottom land along the Arkansas River] we found some German emigrants temporarily hutted, who had gone through a variety of adventures since they left their native faderland [sic]:  they had been sick with malaria and were now recovering, but all their enthusiasm for liberty and America had evaporated; their resources, too, were nearly exhausted, and, enfeebled and disheartened, they seemed not to look forward with pleasure any more, but rather to revert to what they had left behind….These poor people were delighted to converse with me, and to find that we took an interest in them. I gave them a little money, of which they stood in great need to purchase meal... [24]

Traugott Bromme, who wrote a guide in 1846 for Germans eager to emigrate, painted a grim picture of the fate of the Mainzner settlers. First, he mentioned that he had warned several members of the group that, based on his first-hand knowledge of Arkansas, they should not settle there, but his advice had been dismissed by the group’s leaders. Then, he described the situation in which the settlers had found themselves:

The saddest was that the settlers suffered constantly from diseases; frequent flooding of the bottom land worsened the already very unhealthy air, causing numerous fevers from which hardly one of the Germans was spared, and a full third of the company and most unwarned successors ended up in a grave within three years. All of the survivors who were able departed, mostly to Missouri State, but those who were unable to sell their possessions unfortunately had to stay, even though they had no prospect of survive on their estates. Many unhappy members of [the Society] still vegetate in the low lands of Arkansas, cursing their gullibility and their leaders, who for the most part paid for their deafness with their lives. [25]

Perhaps Bromme was showing some schadenfreude in his description, and things were not quite so bad. Nevertheless, we do know that within a few years of their arrival, many, if not most, of the 140 emigrants who arrived in Little Rock in 1833 had left the state or died. However, several stayed and some, such as the George Family in Little Rock became prominent local citizens.[26]

Why, aside from the abysmal weather and health problems in 1833, did the Mainzner Society’s settlers fail?  Writing in the 1860s, Münch suggested that Klingelhöffer and his group were so taken by the glowing reports about Arkansas that they left for America without really thinking through their plan. He wrote, “They left before plans were really complete, before they had the advantage of receiving feedback from a commission to be sent by the Giessener Society.” He agreed with Traugott Bromme’s assessment blaming the difficulties encountered by the Mainzner group on haste and poor planning.[27] As will be discussed later, other, larger factors also impeded the success of the Society.

The story of Arkansas’ unsuccessful German settlement faded from history over time. However interest in the group started to revive as post World War II researchers became interested in Gerstäcker’s rich accounts of his travels in Arkansas during much of 1838 to 1842.[28]  Although Gerstäcker did not tell the story of the Mainzner settlement, he described in his book Wild Sports in the Far West his encounters with several Germans who had come to Arkansas in 1833 as part of the group. He became especially good friends with Klingelhöffer, who Gerstäcker stayed with on his farm in Perry County.

The efforts to document the story of the Mainzner Emigration Society got a great boost in the 1970s when a descendant of German emigrants became interested in it, and as an amateur historian and genealogist, undertook a remarkable investigation of the topic. We know as much as we do about the 1833 Mainzner Emigration Society largely because of the work of Ruth Yingling Rector, whose ancestor Sebastian Jüngling had emigrated in the 1840s to White County, Arkansas, along the Little Red River, where his sister, a part of the 1833 group, had located with her husband and children.[29]

Rector’s research, which began in 1975, took her to archives in Germany several times. She, with a collaborator in Germany, managed to identify about 110 of the 140 settlers who were part of the 1833 group.[30]  Also, she located letters that the wife of Klingelhöffer mailed to her parents, starting just before the Olbers departed for New Orleans. Although illness stopped Rector from writing a planned book on the topic, her decade of work left a rich trove of documents, research papers, and other materials that are now in the Butler Center for Arkansas Studies in Little Rock. 

A few years after Rector’s death, her work was taken up by Shirley Schuette, who wrote about the 1833 emigration in her master’s thesis (which should be a book) and in other papers, including a recent publication in the Arkansas Historical Quarterly. Using Rector’s materials and her own research, Schuette has written the most complete account of the 1833 Mainzner Emigration Society.[31]

Even though the arrival of the Mainzner Emigration Society settlers in Arkansas in 1833 has not been celebrated in Arkansas as the Giessener group is being celebrated in Missouri, its story recently has been told more fully than ever. Likely other related documents await discovery in some musty archives in Germany, and in future years will we know even more about the group and this small element of Arkansas’ history.

Finding Utopia in Missouri, Sort Of

The 500 people selected to be members of the Giessener Emigration Society were a balance of different types of craftsmen, agriculturalists, and people working in professions. The Society leaders did not welcome poor, lower class applicants such as farm hands, day laborers, journeymen, and others without skills or education. These types of people were deterred from participating by the high cost: those selected had to pay upfront for transatlantic transportation, a passport, money to be used to buy land, and other common costs.[32]

After the goal of 500 participants was reached, Society members began the often difficult and usually painful process of preparing to depart from their jobs, homes, and homeland. They divided into two groups; one was made up of emigrants who could depart earlier than the others.

Two ships sailed from Bremenhaven in 1834 to take members of the Giessener Emigration Society to the United States. The first ship, the Olbers, took about 240 Society members to New Orleans under the leadership of Paul Follenius. It departed on March 31, arriving on June 2nd, a troubled 63-day trip.

Shortly before it departed, the group heard the report of two men who Giessener Society had sent to scout possible settlement locations in Arkansas and Missouri. They warned Follenius and the group against settling in Arkansas, telling them that “The climate there was unsupportable; the land was boggy and unusable in many places. The best territories were already in the hands of slave owners.”[33] Further, they reported that the “Klingelhöffer Society had dissolved and was in sad shape,” plus they had in November encountered there a foot of snow.”[34]

One of the scouts, a trusted and good friend of Münch, wrote him privately, “For heaven’s sake, do not leave your position! America may be a good land for a sturdy worker, but not for an educated German.” [35] But it was too late. Münch had left his job and was in the middle of preparations to depart.

At the beginning of the voyage, several passengers on the Olbers came down with smallpox and deaths followed, including a young child of Follenius. In addition to the problems caused by sickness, the conditions on the ship stirred discontent among the society members, in part because while most people were in steerage, some wealthier members of the Society had booked themselves into cabins.

After getting to New Orleans, the group headed by steamboat to St. Louis. Unfortunately, the cholera epidemic that that afflicted the 1833 Mainzner group was still around, hitting the Giessener group very hard, with 40 dying. In the middle of the trip, Follenius became very ill and had to leave the boat to recover. By that time, the group had had enough: they decided to dissolve the society and distribute the common funds; when the steamboat got to St. Louis, the emigrants scattered.[36]  

In the meanwhile, departure date of the second ship was unexpectedly delayed from early May to June 3rd.  Although 260 society members had traveled to the Bremen area in late April for the voyage, the ship that was to take them, the Eberhard, sank on its return trip from America.[37]

The month-long wait was painful and expensive. When a replacement ship, the Medora, was finally procured, only 197 of the original 260 emigrants were on the ship as it departed on June 3. The voyage lasted just over seven weeks, arriving in Baltimore at the end of July. While the passengers liked the two-year-old ship, they disliked the captain, complaining he fed them with spoiled meat and gave them rank water to drink. After arriving in Baltimore in late July, the society members were on their own to meet up in Wheeling, Ohio to travel together down the Mississippi to St. Louis.

News of the problems with the first group reached Münch before his group boarded the steamboat to travel to St. Louis. Though the settlers were upset by the news, he convinced them to continue the trip as planned. When they arrived in St. Louis, they found the Society’s finances were in disarray because of the haphazard distribution of common funds to the first group. According to Münch, “The worst thing was that while Follenius and his family lay sick in Paducah, the treasurer and the bookkeeper had taken the cash to St. Louis, and there had divided the money among the surviving members, in what now appeared a very inaccurate manner, and then deposited an amount smaller than was due us, in St. Louis.”[38]

Seeing the hopeless situation, the remaining members of the Society voted to dissolve it. Accusations and disputes followed. At the last large meeting of the Society in St. Louis, “furious fights and riots broke out as well as the threat of violence against Paul Follenius, because he had been taken to be responsible for the financial misery.”[39]

After the Society dissolved, several of its members – including Münch and Folleius -- moved to an area near St. Charles, Missouri. Although the settlers lived near each other, they were not part of a communal settlement. Münch become a successful farmer, writer, and politician. Also, he was among the leaders that helped insure Missouri did not become part of the confederacy.[40]

Looking at the history of the Giessener Emigration Society, Dorris Keeven-Frank, executive director of the Missouri Germans Consortium, observed, “Of course, the Giessen Emigration Society was a complete failure.” Nevertheless, she noted, “The immigrants [who had been members of the Society] succeeded individually in building lives in America, although they saw enough in the New World to know that it was far from utopia.”[41]



Did Arkansas’ Weather in 1833 Change the Course of U.S. History?

Back to the question of whether Arkansas had a chance of becoming the German state envisioned by the Mainzner and Giessener Emigration Societies if the weather had been better. The answer seems to be  “no.” The experiences of the two Emigration Societies suggest that weather was a minor factor in their failure. Even with the best weather and mildest health problems in 1833, the Mainzner Society’s colony in Arkansas would most likely have failed because of human nature and because of the reality of life in Arkansas.

It was no accident that the Mainzner Society fell apart before its arrival in New Orleans and that the members of the first group of the Giessener Society ended their participation in it before arriving in St. Louis. Although each group was made up of educated people who disliked the political situation in their home states, most group members had not known each other before they joined the Society. They were not bound to each other by blood, friendship, or religious beliefs. Without ties stronger than dislike of the political situation in Germany, they had little basis for deep mutual trust or shared sacrifice.

The problems of a lack of mutual trust and an unwillingness for shared sacrifice were compounded by the absence of strong leadership. As voluntary associations with democratic decision making rules, Society leaders could not make decisions to force people to do anything they did not want to do (outside of actions required by the written Society rules). Thus, to be effective, the leaders needed to be highly persuasive, preferably charismatic. Apparently, the leaders of both Societies leaders were neither.  

Without effective leadership and trust, the two Emigration Societies faltered as they faced the inevitable hardships and the need to overcome difficult hurdles to achieve their goals. Neither was able to overcome even the initial stresses of a long and miserable journey. As the discomforts and illnesses increased, the Society’s bonds were not strong enough to hold the group together.[43]

Even if the Mainzner Emigration Society had been able to overcome its human problems, it likely would have been unable to create a successful colony in the Arkansas Territory or in other nearby states. As Rolf Schmidt observed in his chapter in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, “neither in Missouri nor Illinois nor Arkansas was there enough settlement area for a common enclosed colony.”[44]

The Arkansas Territory was particularly unsuited for a large settlement. The state was still mostly an undeveloped wilderness. Aside from slave holders growing cotton in its south, most of its residents scratched out a subsistence living by small scale farming and by hunting. Creating larger farms, as Bromme pointed out in his 1843 guide, would have been difficult because “Wheat did not grow there; cotton was too often damaged by frost to be sustainably cultivated for profit; and there was no market in Little Rock for the remaining products.”[45]

The development of a large, viable colony would have depended on its ability to sell crops and other goods outside the territory. However, Arkansas still had only crude means of transportation. Even the Arkansas River provided only sporadic transportation links to the outside world (according to Featherstonhaugh, it was navigable only four months a year).  Göebel wrote about the Arkansas territory at the time: [“C]ommunication with the rest of the world was sparse and irregular because out of this wilderness, other than the annual cotton crop of the large slave holders, there was little or nothing to get from there.”[46]

If it had been possible to build a large colony in the Arkansas Territory, the Mainzner Emigration Society likely could not have done it with the type of settlers it brought to Arkansas. It lacked the laborers and famers who could have supplied the needed back-breaking work to tame a wilderness. Like the Giessener group, “many participants [of the Mainzner group] were simply not capable of the difficult manual labor involved.”[47] The advice Munch’s friend had given him also applied to the Mainzner group: Arkansas was no place for educated Germans.

Regardless of settlement opportunities in the Arkansas Territory, the Mainzner group would likely have chosen to avoid Little Rock (and the Arkansas Territory) if its members had known of the city’s and the territory’s reputation as a place where criminals came to escape the law. As Arkansas historian S. Charles Bolton wrote, “Arkansas Territory was a violent place where duels occurred frequently, brawls were commonplace, and murder was something about which the average citizen might reasonably worry. Moreover there was a significant population of counterfeiters, horse thieves and other professional criminals. In truth both lawlessness and shiftlessness were important parts of Arkansas Territory.”[48]  

Gerstäcker summed up how people saw Little Rock in the late 1830s:  It was “a backward looking corrupt place, and the boatmen on the Mississippi sing, not without reason”

               Little Rock in Arkansas
               The damnest place I ever saw.[49]

It seems doubtful that educated Germans would desire to live in such surroundings even if they had been successful in developing their colony.  Clearly, the Arkansas Territory could never be mistaken for a potential Utopia.

Enjoying the Utopia Traveling Exhibition

The realization that Arkansas most likely was not robbed of a German state by bad weather made it easier for Arkansans to enjoy the celebration of the Giessener Immigration Society’s arrival in Missouri and, through the exhibition, to learn more about its own 1833 German settlement.

The members of the Traveling Summer Republic did an outstanding job researching this part of Germany’s and Missouri’s history, impressively unearthing facts about what happened and why, plus vividly telling the story of the Society. Their work as presented in the exhibit, the book, and the films should enrich the knowledge of everyone interested in the history German immigration in the United States.
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Notes

[1] For more information about the exhibit, see this web sites: http://www.aufbruch-in-die-utopie.net/en/exhibition.html . For more information on the topic, go to http://mo-germans.com/ .

[2] See Henry Schneider. 2014. The America Weary, Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, Edition Falkenberg. pp. 289-292.

[3] For the best summary of the history of the exhibit, see: http://mo-germans.com/2014/09/30/the-history-of-utopia/  For information about the Traveling Summer Republic, see http://mo-germans.com/2014/09/15/meet-the-traveling-summer-republic/

[4] The book, Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, can be ordered from this link: http://press.uchicago.edu/ucp/books/book/distributed/U/bo19189409.html
For information on the movie, see http://www.aufbruch-in-die-utopie.net/en/film.html


[6] The Mainzner Emigration Society has also been called by various authors the Rheinhessen Immigration Society and the Wormser Emigration Society. Apparently, it did not have an official name. I first became interested in the 1833 German emigrants in the middle 1970s when doing historical research on a prominent Little Rock family, the George Family, who were part of the group.  See Dan Durning. 1975. Those Enterprising Georges: Early German Settlers in Little Rock. Pulaski County Historical Review, June.p. 21-37.  This article is available at this link: https://www.scribd.com/doc/69940474/Those-Enterprising-Georges-Early-German-Settlers-in-Little-Rock

Recently, the story of the Mainzner Emigration Society was told in an article in an issue of the Arkansas Historical Quarterly that was devoted to article about Friedrich Gerstäcke:  Shirley Schuette. 2014. Friedrich Gerstäcker’s Friends in Arkansas. Arkansas Historical Quarterly, LXXIII (1), pp. 102 – 114.

[7] A good discussions of the reasons for emigration from Germany in first part of the 1830s can be found here: http://mo-germans.com/2012/09/09/bold-moves-to-america-german-pioneers-in-the-midwest-of-the-1830s/  Maps of the small states in Hessen are in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, pp. 318-319.

[8] This title is used by Dorris Keevan-Frank in an on-line article, The 1833 Call for Emigration: The Giessen Emigration Society, at this link: http://mo-germans.com/exhibits/a-call-for-emigration-the-giessen-emigration-society/  Schuete (2014, see note 6) translated the German title as “Invitation and explanation in regard to large scale migration out of Germany to the Free States of North America.” Another translation, “Call and Declaration on the Subject of Mass Migration from Germany of the North American Free State”, is used in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p 94. The German title is:  Aufforderung und Erklärung in Betreff einer Auswanderung in Grossen aus Deutchland in die nordamerikanishen Freistaaten.  A translated copy of his brochure can be purchased through this link:  http://mo-germans.com/call-and-declaration-on-the-subject-of-mass-emigration/

[9] Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 98.
[10] Münch quoted in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 93.

[11] Münch quoted in Hella Hübsch and Ruth Rector. n.d. Emigrants to Arkansas, 1833: On the search for names and places of origin of a German traveling group. Manuscript in the Rector Papers at the Butler Center for Arkansas Studies,

[12]  Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 72.

[13] Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 71.  The second edition of H. W. E. Eggerling’s book, Beschreibung der Vereinigten Staaten von Nord-Amerika (1839) is available as a free Google book at this link: https://play.google.com/books/reader?id=65AUAAAAQAAJ&printsec=frontcover&output=reader&hl=en&pg=GBS.PA6
The “call and declaration” pamphlet, after describing the benevolent environment of Arkansas, stated that “we shall not depart until we are thoroughly informed on the conditions there.” It suggested that the Society would send a commission to scout the areas to be settled, which it did.

[14] Gert Göbel. 1877. Länger als ein Menschenleben in Missouri. Verlag Wiebusch und Sohn, St. Louis, quoted in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 94. For a biographical sketch of Göbel, see Walter D Kamphoefner and Adolf E. Schroeder, Gert Goebel and the Giessen Emigration Society, in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, pp. 267- 283.  

[15] The first page of the newspaper is reproduced in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 106 and quoted on page 98.

[16] The actual number of members of the Mainzner Emigration Societies who traveled to the United States is not known. The New Orleans landing records for the date of their arrival are missing. Some writers state that the 140 people who went to Little Rock were about a 1/3 of the total membership of the Society; others assert that only about 20 did not go to Little Rock, indicating a total of about 160 people were in the group.

[17] Münch quoted in Shirley Schuette. 2005. Strangers in the Land: The German Presence in Nineteenth Century Arkansas. Master Thesis for an M.A. in Public History, UALR

[18] Hiram Whittington. 1986. Hiram Whittington Letters in Authentic Voices: Arkansas Culture 1541-1860, Sarah Fountain, ed. University of Central Arkansas Press. 

[19] Report of Louis Reuter concerning the emigration of his brothers-in-law [Carl and George] Sandherr to America in 1833” in Ruth Yingling Rector. n.d. A German Emigration to Arkansas, manuscript in Rector papers at the Butler Center for Arkansas Studies.

[20] Arkansas Gazette, May 22, 1833, transcribed in Rector, A German Emigration to Arkansas (see note 19)

[21] Schuette, 2005 and Schuette 2014 (See notes 6 and 17).

[22] Friedrich Gerstäcker. 1844. Streif- und Jagdzüge durch die Vereinigten Staaten Nord-Amerika, volume 2 (1844), p. 29. Available as free Google e-book.  Published in English in edited form as Wild Sports in the Far West.

[23] Dr. Carl Walbrach. 1931. Ein Auswandererbrief Gustav Klingelhöffers aus dem Jahre 1834. In Heimat in Bild, No 38.  A photocopy of this article and its translation (translator not specified) are in the Rector Papers at the Butler Center for Arkansas Studies. The quotes are from the translation.  For more on Klingelhöffer, see this link: https://www.scribd.com/doc/69943845/Revisiting-Klingelhoeffer-An-Early-German-Immigrant-in-Arkansas

[24] William Featherstonhaugh. 1844. Excursions through the Slave States, pp. 167-168 (Free Google e-book).

[25] Traugott Bromme. 1846. Rathgeber für Auswanderungslustige. (Free Google e-book).

[26] Dan Durning. 1975. (See note 6).

[27] See Bromme (1846) note 25; Friedrich Münch.1864. Zur Geschichte der deutschen Einwangerung. Deutsch-Amerikanische Monatsheft für Politik, Wissenschaft und Literature, vol. 1, p. 484 (Free Google e-book).

[28] Clarence Evans, a native Arkansas, did the most interesting and detailed research on Gerstäcker’s travels in Arkansas. Two examples of his early publications are:  Clarence Evans. 1947. Friedrich Gerstäcker: Social Chronicler of the Arkansas Frontier. Arkansas Historical Quarterly, 6, pp. 440-449 and Clarence Evans. 1951. Gerstäcker and the Conwells of White River Valley. Arkansas Historical Quarterly, 10, pp 1-36. Evan’s papers are available at the Arkansas Studies Institute in Little Rock.

[29] Ruth Yingling Rector. A German Emigration to Arkansas. (see note 19). See a story about her papers at this link: http://www.butlercenter.org/banner/2008_spring.pdf.

[30] Hella Hübsch and Ruth Rector. 1982. Auswanderer nach Arkansas (USA) 1833. Auf der suche nach Namen and Herkunftsorten einer deutschen Reisengesellschaft.” Hessische Familienkund, June, 117-122 (a copy of this article is in the Rector papers at the Butler Center for Arkansas Studies).

[31] Schuette, 2005 and Schuette 2014. See notes 6 and 17.

[32] Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 93.

[33] Briefe von Deutschland aus Nordamerica. 1836. Quoted in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 94.

[34] Münch 1864, p. 487 (see note 27).

[35] Münch 1864, p. 487 (see note 27).

[36] Letters from Germans out of North America, 1836. Quoted in Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 140.



[39] Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 144

[40] For the story of Münch and other Germans in Missouri after 1834, see Dorris Keevan-Franke “Missouri – “Where the Sun Shines,” Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, pp. 173-260.


Farley Grubb. 2011. German Immigration and Servitude in America, 1709-1914. Routledge
and Campbell Gibson and Kay Jung. 2006. Historical Census Statistics on the Foreign-Born Population of the United States: 1850 to 2000, Working Paper No. 81.  Population Division, U.S. Census Bureau, February, 2006. Access here: http://www.census.gov/population/www/documentation/twps0081/twps0081.pdf

[43] Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 147.

[44] Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 146.

[45] Bromme. 1846. (See note 25).

[46] Göbel 1877, p. 147 (See note 14).

[47] Utopia/Aufbruch in die Utopie, p. 84.

[48] S. Charles Bolton. 1993. Territorial Ambition: Land and Society in Arkansas 1800-1840. The University of Arkansas Press, p. 2.


Friedrich Gerstäcker. 1844. Streif- und Jagdzüge durch die Vereinigten Staaten Nord-Amerika, volume 1, p. 139. Available as free Google e-book.

Monday, October 24, 2016

"Moin," She Said and I Wondered Why

Crossing the hotel lobby in Kiel, I glanced at the receptionist, a neatly dressed young woman with a big smile, who said something that sounded like “moan.”  I replied “Guten Tag” and I scrunched up my face as I left the building, wondering what she meant by that.

A couple of hours later, I returned from a walk to the Kiel Altstadt (old city) and again, as I walked near the reception desk,” the same young woman smiled as she distinctly said “moan.” I smiled back and nodded my head.

After I returned to my room, I thought about the receptionist's greeting and recalled that in Büsum a couple of days earlier, I had seen the words “Moin, Moin” printed on various tourist items such as coffee cups, flags, and caps. Usually the words came with a picture of a smiling seal.  At the time, I had thought that “Moin, Moin” was what Germans hear when seals bark. 



A little later, walking through Büsum, I had been confused when I had seen a sign for a small restaurant that had the words “Moin, Moin” with nary a seal to be seen.  The sign also included the words “Eten” and “Drinken,” which I took to be Plattdeutsch (low German) for “eat” and “drink.” Plattdeutsch is a dialect used in the northern part of Germany, and both Kiel and Büsum are in Schleswig-Holstein, the country’s northern-most state.

Puzzled by the receptionist’s use of the word “Moin”, I decided to look up the meaning of the word. Good ole Wikipedia came to the rescue. It informed me that “Moin” is a “Danish, Frisian, Kashubian and Low German greeting from East Freesia, Southern Schleswig, Bremen, Hamburg, Kiel, Mecklenburg-Vorpommern, the eastern and northern Netherlands and Southern Jutland in Denmark.”  It means “hello” in some places and “goodbye” in others.

Apparently, the greeting is “Moin,” but also sometimes “Moin Moin.” However, Wikipedia warned that many locals think of “Moin Moin” as a usage for for tourists.

Now, I know two things.  First, the receptionist was not suggesting in a not-so-subtle way that I look like a seal; she was simply saying either hello or goodbye.  Second, I have to look up what a “Kashubian” is.


Saturday, October 1, 2016

Hillbilly Credit Ratings: The 1910 Credit Guide for Northwest Arkansas Businesses

A couple of years ago as I spent some time in Fayetteville, I regularly visited local stores selling used books.  I learned that the best (i.e.,read-worthy or resalable) used books could be bought at the Fayetteville library store. Also, I noted the Goodwill thrift store on College Avenue often put out some desirable books, but other Goodwill stores around Fayetteville seldom had books I wanted (perhaps they had all been taken before I got there). The worst thrift stores for used books were the area Salvation Army stores. At one time, these stores had filled many shelves with books, but apparently they had decided to quit doing so.

I mention the various thrift stores selling used books, and my low regard for the book stock of the Salvation Army stores, to make this point: never give up on stores selling used books. This lesson was made clear one day when I was checking local thrift stores for books, but finding few of interest. Discouraged, I had decided to skip the Fayetteville Salvation Army store, but at the last minute pulled into its parking lot and dashed in for a quick look. There, tucked away on a bottom shelf, below several shelves full of worthless hard-back novels, I found the best book I have ever bought at a thrift store.

The book’s title was not very enticing: Credit Guide: “The Red Book” (second edition). And the large format book (8” by 11”, three inches thick) was in poor shape: its pages had pulled away from the binding and its cover was dirty. Despite its shortcomings, the book was an exciting find because it is rare (it may be the only copy in existence) and it contains otherwise unavailable information of genealogical interest.

This book, published in 1910 by the Inter-State Credit Men’s Association in Kansas City, contains the credit ratings of people living in Benton, Washington, Madison, Franklin, Crawford, and Pope Counties of Arkansas, plus a few other scattered locations. Altogether, the 900-page book has about 54,000 listings,each with a person’s name and credit rating(s), and most have information about the person’s occupation and where he or she lived.

The Inter-State Credit Men’s Association and its Credit Guide: “The Red Book”

The Credit Guide: “The Red Book was product of the growing effort in 1910 to help merchants determine who could or could not be trusted with credit. Its publisher, the Inter-State Credit Men’s Association (I-SCMS), was one of many “Credit Men’s Associations” that had been created throughout the United States, especially in large cities. The local associations had banded together in 1896 to form the National Association of Credit Men (NACM), which continued to grow in size, importance, and influence during the decades that followed. [1]  


Until 1920, when the NACM created a national credit clearinghouse, credit information was assembled mainly local associations for local markets. A local Credit Men’s Association collected feedback about the payment records of people to whom its members (merchants and other businessmen) had extended credit. This feedback was assembled and published in books such as the one I found. 

The preface to my copy of Credit Guide: “The Red Book” explained that the information in the book was not dependent, as were previous efforts at credit ratings, on the “opinions of bankers, attorneys and others.” This type of credit rating, it observed, had been “vague, uncertain and indefinite.”  Instead, according to the preface:  

In placing this work in the hands of our subscribers, we wish to emphasize the fact that the ratings contained herein are purely the expressions of business men, based upon their experiences with the parties rated. We believe that this is the true plan of establishing credit. It is information gained by actual experience, as distinguished from mere opinion formed by observation. We have great confidence that its merits among businessmen will soon be universally recognized.

We believe therefore, we are warranted in the assertion that our ratings are more nearly accurate than those attained from the ordinary source, and as the value of our plan gains increased recognition, our ratings will be correspondingly more correct. We, therefore, wish to emphasize the importance of mutuality in effort, between our subscribers and the Agency, to the end that each may profit by the other’s assistance.


I assume that Credit Men’s Associations in other major cities and regions were using the same methods to produce similar books for their subscribers. However, such books are difficult to locate.  A Google search finds few references to similar credit guides, and Google Books has no digital copies of such books. Also, early credit rating information is not available through Ancestry.com, indicating that it does not have access to early copies of credit guides.

Probably the main reason why so few old credit guides have survived is that they were not general circulation books: they could not be purchased by the general public and they were not included in library collections. In fact, these books were not sold to anyone. They were instead loaned to subscribers for a specified period.

The limitations on the use of the 1910 Credit Guide I bought were specified in a form pasted on the back of the front cloth board:

This volume of “The RED BOOK’ Credit Guide is not sold but is loaned to ________ Subscriber for ______ from _______ 1910 as per specific agreement of contract, and if found in the hands of those not entitled to use it will be taken possession of by the Inter-State Credit Men’s Association and all rights under conditions of contract will be annulled.

In my copy of the book, the blanks are filled in showing Strode – Long Mer Co was the subscriber for 20 months from Dec 19 1910.  This book was “No. 1351.” 



The “Strode-Long Mer Co” was a general merchandise store located in Bentonville. Its owners were Claude Henry Strode (Oct. 18, 1879 – Oct. 10, 1958) and H. B. Long, about whom I found little information. Strode left the mercantile business in the middle of the 1910s and had a long career managing vinegar plants (mostly for the Ozark Cider and Vinegar Co.) in several cities, both in Arkansas and other states. 

Likely, this book should have been either destroyed or returned to the I-SMCA after August 19, 1912, when the period of the loan expired.  Fortunately, it was neither returned or destroyed, but instead was stored away for a hundred years until someone decided to get rid of it by donating it to the Salvation Army. 

The Credit Information

As the Inter-State Credit Men’s Association explained in the preface, the Credit Guide contained credit evaluations of people by merchants who had extended them credit. Some of the listings have only one rating, others have several.  The ratings are on two scales and are abbreviated as follows:

KIND OF PAY:
P.  Prompt Pay
F.  Fair Pay
S.  Slow Pay
J.  Considered honest but unfortunate circumstances prevented paying me
X.  Would Request Cash

KIND OF CREDIT:
A.  Over $1,000.
B.  300 to 500
C.  100 to 300
D.  50 to 100
K.  20 to 50
L.  10 to 25
P.  5 to 10
V. 1 to 5

For illustrate the use of the scales, here are three actual listings and their meanings


Branham G W farmer Ozark … FP FV 
Mr. Branham had ratings from two businesses that had extended him credit. One reported “Fair Pay” for credit given him of $5 to $10; another reported “Fair Pay” for credit of $1 to $5. Apparently “Fair Pay” was worse than “Prompt Pay,” but better than the other categories.  

Branshetter M. S. laborer Midland ….2X
Mr. Branshetter also had two ratings, both of them bad. Apparently, he did not pay off in an acceptable way the credit extended to him by two businesses.

Branson Levi miner Hartford …. SV X
Mr. Branson had two rating. One rating indicated that he was slow in paying off the $1 to 5 credit extended to him by one business; another business reported that he did not acceptably pay off the credit given him.


Where Your Ancestors Credit Worthy or Deadbeats?

The beauty of the Credit Guide: “The Red Book” is that it provides information not available elsewhere about the credit worthiness of about 54,000 people (mostly men) living in Northwest Arkansas in 1910. If you had ancestors living in the six covered counties during this period, you might be able to learn something new about them from this book.

For example, in 1910, I had ancestors living in Madison County (Brannon and Couch families) and in Franklin County (Durning and Harris families). So, I can use the book to find out if they received credit and, if they did, how their use of credit was rated.

Apparently, my Couch and Harris family ancestors did not use credit during the time the 1910 credit ratings were assembled. They do not show up in the book. 

Among 19 listings of Brannons, one is located in Health, where, in 1910, my grandmother – ten years old -- was living with her parents Robert C. and Sibbie Shackelford Brannon. Likely, Robert is included in a listing for “Brannon & Son” who were merchants living in Health.  This listing had one rating:  X.  Brannon & Son had not adequately paid off credit one business had extended to them.



While no listing can be found for a “Durning,” there are two listings for “During.” One of them is obviously a listing for John Lewis Durning (1849 – 1916) a farmer living in Cass. He had two credit ratings, SP and SV. These ratings document that he was slow repaying credit of $5 to $10 to one business and slow repaying $1 to $5 to another business. 

Another “During” is listed:  J. Z. During, a farmer living in Ozark. He was probably a relative, but I am not sure who this person was. I have no record of a Durning with those initials. However, many Durnings moved to Ozark in the early part of the 20th Century; most were the children of George Durning (1873 – 1912), son of John Lewis Durning and Polly Welton. 



Whatever his relation to the clan of Cass Durnings, J. Z. “During” did not have a good credit history in 1910.  He had two ratings. One, SV, indicated that he was slow in paying off credit of $1 to $5. The other rating, X, documented his failure to adequately pay off credit extended by another business.

As the examples of my ancestors show, the Credit Guide can provide some interesting morsels of information about the history of families living in Northwest Arkansas.

Want to Check the Credit Ratings of Your Ancestors?

If you had ancestors living in Washington, Benton, Madison, Franklin, Crawford, Clark, or Pope Counties in 1910 and would like to know their credit ratings, use the comment section below to provide the last name(s) and their likely location and I will post the relevant information (if any is available) from the Credit Guide below.

Last Name:  Tisdale



Last name: Vyles



Last name: Drake




Lemming (or Lemmings, Lemming, Lemning) possibly in Pope County

Last name: Leming, Lenning, Lemming and Lemings.




Last name:  Glenn




Note: 

[1] For more in-depth information on the Credit Men’s Associations, see David Sellers Smith. The Elimination of the Unworthy: Credit Men and Small Retailers in Progressive Era Capitalism. The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era, (9) 2.  April 2010, 199-220 and Rowena Olegario. A Culture of Credit: Embedding Trust and Transparency in American Business, Harvard University Press, 2006.


Tuesday, September 6, 2016

My Mother's Quilts

My mother was not one to sit still for long.  She had too much to do: tables to dust, fences to clean, leaves to rake, and needy dogs to comb. And of course the brown beans needed to be simmered for several hours and the cornbread fried. And dozens of other things within her view needed to be improved or fixed.

For decades she started her day by walking miles around the neighborhood before dawn. After some toast, weak coffee, and a quick look at the paper, she patrolled the house and yard to make sure everything was in place. Not rarely she lugged out her shrill vacuum sweeper – creating panic among the two or three dogs she always kept – to remove a hair or a shadow she spotted on the floor. 

When she finally did sit, her hands went into action, sewing, crocheting, knitting. She embroidered rectangular bits of cloth to make dish towels, knitted dozens of pairs of house shoes and hundreds of colorful dish clothes, crocheted huge table clothes, sewed clothes for dolls, and even made her own jeans. She stocked up on patterns and do-it-yourself craft books for ideas of things to make.

Among the many things she made with her hands, quilts were the most enjoyable, especially when she worked on them with her sisters. For many years, she and sisters Hester, Helen, and Charlene got together regularly to stitch pieces into hand-made quilts. They took turns keeping the completed quilts they made.


Busy, Busy, Busy on the Farm

Bernice Durning, born Couch, always explained that her inability to do nothing came from her mother, Rosa Brannon Couch, who kept her and her sisters busy when they were growing up on Brannon Mountain in the southwest corner of Madison County. Of course, plenty of work was needed on their remote farm, and the young’uns were expected to take on their share. But even when their chores were complete, mother Rosa still found ways to make sure they did not idle away their time.
Charley Couch and Rosa Brannon
on their Wedding Day, March 1919

Mother said that her dad, Charley Elmer Couch, who grew up in Asher, another tiny Madison County community, would have been content to let the kids laze around, but her mother would not hear of it. So, Bernice Couch and her sisters learned early in their lives that some work was always waiting.

Of course, the Depression had much to do with need to keep working. With little money to buy things, the Couch family had to make clothes and household necessities. And they often had to go without things they needed.



Mother at the house where she was born;
picture taken in 1983
The Depression had not yet started when mother was born on May 24, 1928, in Hazel Valley, a Washington County community a few miles from Brannon Mountain. It hit a year later, and by the time it was in full swing, Charley and Rosa had moved the family to Brannon Mountain where Rosa, a Brannon, had been raised and many of her relatives lived. The Couch family spent the worst years of the Depression in Health, a tiny settlement not far from the Brannon Mountain Church (which still stands).

While the Depression made it difficult for Charley and Rosa to provide for their large family with their sharecropping and mountain-top farming, mother had good memories of her early years. She attended school at Crosses Creek, walking with her sister about three miles down the mountain to the school house. She would fondly recalled the one-room school and her teacher Mr. Vanlandingham.  During those years, she learned from her mother how to keep a clean house and to make things they could not afford to buy.
Crosses Creek School House;
Picture taken in 1983

When World War II ended, Charley and Rosa, with the children who had not yet left home, moved to the Harmon community a few miles west of Tontitown, south off of Highway 412.  There, her dad farmed and helped a brother with his brooder houses.  
About this time, mother got a job as a waitress at Jug Wheeler’s DeLuxe Restaurant, a popular hangout on Dickson Street located across the street from the Shipley Baking Company. Shipley’s had employed Coy Wayne Durning before the war until he turned eighteen and was drafted. His work at Shipley’s led to his assignment to the Quartermaster Corps as a baker. After basic training, he spent several months in Saipan making bread for his fellow soldiers. When the war over, my dad returned to Fayetteville to resume work for Shipley’s.

Published in the Northwest Arkansas Times on August 26, 1946

I do not know exactly when and how Bernice Couch and Coy Durning met, but assume it happened because they were working across the street from one another. However they met, they married in August 1946, and both brought to the marriage the experience of growing up poor in large families living during the Depression in the backwoods of the Arkansas Ozarks. Dad’s childhood had been spent first at Cass, then at Denning, both in Franklin County, not too many miles from Health.  That experience influenced them, as it did many others of their generation, to be thrifty, save money, and always pay cash.
 
Coy Durning and Bernice Couch,
Newlyweds, 1946
Although neither had made it further than the eighth grade, they both knew how to work hard and managed to find respectable, if not high-paying, jobs. My dad left Shipley’s to work for several years at the Arkansas Western Gas Company repairing meters. Then he passed a postal service examination and was hired by the Fayetteville Post office, which paid a good wage. He retired when he turned sixty.

Mother briefly worked for the local garment factory, but left quickly, deploring the sweat-shop working conditions. She spent several years at home taking care of a demanding kid, and as he became more self-sufficient, she went to work as a seamstress for the Pyper Company, located on Dickson Street, which made dresses for little girls.  When Doris Pyeatte, the owner, died and the company closed, she worked part time for several years at the Shipley Thrift Store, which sold “day-old” bread. That store was located in the building that had housed Jug Wheeler’s Drive-In, which he opened in 1947 next to the DeLuxe Restaurant.  

When mother no longer felt to the need for the extra income of a job, she plunged into her crafts with gusto.  

Baby Patching and Quilting

Mother tried and mastered all kinds of crafts, but she especially enjoyed making two things. The first, as mentioned earlier, was quilts. The second passion was making dolls and clothing for them.
Mother with dolls she made, 1983

Her enjoyment of doll making peaked in the early 1980s when the Cabbage Patch Doll craze hit the United States. She bought some doll kits – basically roughly formed doll heads and bodies – and turned them into bright haired, smiley creations that were smartly dressed in the clothes she made.  For a couple of years, she had a nice little business making and selling these dolls, which were just as cuddly as – and substantially less expensive than -- the Cabbage Patch dolls, and doll clothes.  She provided a “birth certificates,” printed on parchment paper, to the girls who received the dolls as gifts.

From the early 1980s, mother’s house was always populated by dozens of smiling dolls, including a few Cabbage Patch dolls she bought and the many Mother-Patch dolls she made. Some of her dolls won blue ribbons at the Washington County Fair.

Ribbon Winner, Washington County Fair
When she was not work on her dolls, she was devoting much of her time to quilts. Although mother quilted alone quite often, she enjoyed this activity most when she did it with her sisters, all of whom lived in the Fayetteville-Springdale area. I am not sure how often they met, but know they came together regularly for several years to sew, quilt, and talk.   

Mother’s pains-taking quilting work, both alone and with her sisters, produced some colorful and striking quilts. They are beautiful, but not ostentatious. They were made, stitch by stitch, to be used to keep warm by night and brighten up the bedroom by day -- and they do both well.  



Such quilts were common in the Couch family. Seeing my mother’s quilts often brings to mind a day when I was four or five when I was with my mother at my grandparent’s drafty house near Harmon. At sundown on a cold Fall day, I was put into a spring bed with two similarly aged cousins and covered with layer upon layer of fresh smelling quilts. Even with bustle around us, we quickly melted into sleep.


Mother and her sister Hester working on a Dutch Doll quilt for Hester's daughter, Louise, 1983
Helen, Charlene, Hester, and Mother with quilt made for Charlene's son Chuck and his wife, 1990

Perhaps it was that blissful sleep that makes me disposed to think that my mother’s quilts are the best in the world. Here are several that she made, some with the help of her sisters: 

Natalia G. and I with a quilt that mother had just completed, 1996



My favorite quilt,  a gift from mother in the 1980s

Razorback quilt




A calendar quilt





Quilt signature

One of mother's other quilting projects was a wall hanging showing that I also learned to sew when I was quite young, though I gave it up as a hobby when I entered first grade. She took some pieces that I had embroidered when I was five and quilted them together into a wall hanging. Among the blocks included in the quilt was a dog that greatly resembles the Irish Setter that I had in the 1970s.



Wall hanging quilted by mother 

These colorful, beautiful quilts attest to the impressive array of craft work that mother left behind when she passed away last year. They are a testament to skills she learned and the values she developed as a child growing up on Brannon Mountain. Her mother would be proud of her work, and I was humbled to inherit her priceless creations.