Henry A. Fischer
As the 19th Century dawned, the pioneering days of the Children of the Danube were now mostly behind them. The new generation no longer thought of Hesse, Baden and Württemberg when they heard their elders talk about home. Home was what they experienced in their own insular village enclaves scattered throughout Swabian Turkey in southwest Hungary. It was the quest for a new Heimat that had spurred their ancestors to come down the majestic Danube River almost a century before. Yet, three generations later, their descendants still remained Strangers and Sojourners in the land.
It was their language, faith and traditions that provided cohesion to their life together but at the same time separated them from those around them. They remained outsiders and were seen as foreigners who were resistant to every attempt at assimilation. Having established their identity in their heritage they were forced to adapt to changing situations constantly challenging them. This often meant venturing beyond their own communities and living alongside those who spoke another language, subscribed to a different creed, observed customs and traditions unlike theirs and lived an accompanying different lifestyle. In response to these outside pressures, what emerged among them was a distinct society, which was perceived as a desire to remain Strangers and Sojourners.
But history was not on their side as the Napoleonic Wars raged across Europe and left their mark on the political and social landscape. The following archconservative reaction set the scene for the upheaval known as the Revolution of 1848 that swept across Europe giving birth to the Hungarian War of Independence. All of this led to repercussions from which the Children of the Danube could not escape. As that history unfolds, Habsburg Emperors along with other notable historical personages will enter the story, but it will be the little known Archduchess Maria Dorothea, wife of the Viceroy of Hungary, who would have the greatest impact on the life and future of the Children of the Danube. All of this sets the scene for the next generations who will be remembered as the Emigrants and Exiles, and their story will constitute the final volume of the trilogy: Remember To Tell The Children.
Henry Fischer, born in Kitchener, Ontario, Canada is the son of Swabian immigrants from Hungary whose lives and families provide the background for his writing and historical research. The publication of his first book: Children of the Danube was followed by a trilogy entitled: Remember To Tell The Children. This trilogy is a work of historical fiction based on extensive historical research and family tradition and stories handed down through the generations. They reflect the common experience of the Children of the Danube and their descendants since joining the Great Swabian Migration into Hungary early in the 18th century. The first volume of the trilogy: The Pioneers, dealt with their journey down the Danube and the early settlement years in Hungary. This current work focuses on the development of their own distinct identity and lifestyle during the first half of the 19th century within the context of the wider society in which they were: Strangers and Sojourners.
He and his wife Jean reside in Oshawa, Ontario. They enjoy travelling and the freedom of retirement but spend as much time as they can with their children and grandchildren. A former Lutheran pastor and co-founder of InterChurch Health Ministries, he is a graduate of the University of Western Ontario and Waterloo Lutheran Seminary.
The disassembled weaving loom and frame had been packed in the wagon the night before along with other larger items and farm implements. Since early morning, numerous household items, bedding, cooking utensils, clothing, food, fodder and other provisions had been brought from the house, stable and smokehouse and then equally distributed and packed in the deep-bottomed wagon. Young Heinrich worked at lashing the canvas cover to the three arching frames overhead, while Elias and Philip penned cackling hens and irate roosters into confining wooden cages. Their father and his brother Johannes dragged two squealing young shoats by their hind legs from the pigsty towards the wagon. On arriving they tied their hind legs together before caging them. Quacking ducks and illusive geese ran around in the yard trying to escape capture now that Elias and Philip had completed their former task. Wicker pens awaited them too.
After loading the penned fowl, Heinrich checked his oldest son’s handiwork and nodded his approval and the boy ran off to the stable for the cow and calf followed by his two younger brothers. Heinrich and Johannes followed as well and proceeded to harness and hitch the two horses while Philip and Elias struggled to hold back the young calf intent on pulling free from the harness around its neck to which they clung to restrain it from running off somewhere. Margaret approached them leading her prize goat with its large bloated udder trickling milk as it walked along beside her, while she held Johann George’s hand, who waved excitedly to the others afraid that they might be left behind. Seeing that they were finally prepared to leave, Margaret glanced at Heinrich who simply nodded in response. She left the others and walked towards the house.
Margaret glanced around the kitchen for one last look and then made her way to the Kammer to make sure that she had not left anything behind. It was hard for her to believe this would be the last time she would ever be in this house that had become her home: the silent witness to the intimacies of her marriage; the place of the conception and birth of her five sons; the scene of the fulfilling family life she had never known in her own early years. There were so many memories of the laughter and the tears, the challenges and difficulties that had been shared, met and overcome. All in preparation for this and what now lay ahead of them. The hardest part was the sense of finality in closing the door behind her. As she closed the door she offered up a final prayer. This former life she had known would always be very much alive in memory and would be remembered in her twilight years as the place she once called home that no other home could ever or would ever replace. She wiped the tears from her eyes and steeled herself for the final farewells she knew were still ahead of her.
Several teams of horses and yoked oxen, hauling heavily loaded wagons had already assembled in the vicinity of the Prune Frischkorns near the outskirts of the village, where they had all agreed to meet to set out together on the trek to Somodor, when Heinrich pulled up in his wagon in front of his parents’ house. They were surrounded by crowds of relatives, friends, neighbours and local well-wishers. There was almost a festive air about what was taking place, but there was another underlying current of emotion just below the surface. It became most apparent when the pastor took leave of each family as their wagon arrived and that was also now the case with Heinrich and his young family. When he prayed a blessing on the family, he placed his hand on Johann George’s head and this gesture was not lost on Heinrich who sensed the pastor had always known what he feared most. Heinrich then dismounted from the wagon and Margaret and the children proceeded with him to the gates of the Frischkorn homestead where Simon and Christina were waiting.
As they gathered in a tight circle, they spoke hurried words of encouragement to one another, while Christina Frischkorn picked up Johann George and hugged him tightly against her bosom until she knew it was time to surrender him to his father. He took him into his arms, surrounded by his three older sons as each in turn took leave of their grandparents. Old Simon did not even attempt to hide or control his tears as he hugged each in turn and then kissed them in farewell before they found themselves in their grandmother’s embrace who was unable to restrain her loud sobs. As the two aged parents tried to collect themselves, Sabine arrived with her children and the two youngsters ran to them sobbing as loud as their grandparents. It was the most painful moment in the lives of the Frischkorns ever since coming to Hungary more than a century earlier but they knew they were not alone. They were sharing the same fate as all of the other Children of the Danube who also found themselves in the same situation.
“Altmutter, you’ll come and see me some day won’t you?” Johann George asked and in his own way gave expression to what all of the children hoped. Tears ran down his hot little cheeks as he reached out his arms to Christina Frischkorn for a final hug and kiss while his grandfather looked on knowing he would never see him or the others again.
Heinrich struggled with the guilt he felt, until he saw his brother who was approaching him and they fell into one another’s arms.
“I hate to leave you with all of the responsibility for our parents,” Heinrich confessed.
“It’s the way it’s always been for us older brothers. Remember?”
Heinrich fought a smile and simply nodded with understanding.
Margaret joined him, holding little Johann in her arms as he drifted off to sleep. She had just said her farewells to her sister and her family and now took leave of Heinrich’s parents who had very much become her own and it was obvious from their response that the feeling was mutual.
“Heinrich, we need to start out,” Heinrich Simon said squeezing his shoulder as he took his place next to him now that the last of the wagons had arrived.
Heinrich nodded to the older boys and carried Johann George to their wagon, with the boys now following him and Margaret coming after them. After seating Johann George in the back of the wagon, he helped Philip up to sit beside him and he put his arm around him to prevent him from falling off. Elias unleashed the young calf that had been tied to the wheel, while his older brother Heinrich did the same with their cow and prepared to walk alongside the wagon once it got underway. The goat tied to the back of the wagon tested the strength of the rope shaking its horned head rather menacingly, making Johann George laugh. After assisting Margaret up on the driver’s seat with Johann squealing in her arms, Heinrich proceeded to climb up, taking the reins in hand, sitting down and waiting for the signal from Heinrich Simon just a few wagons ahead of him. There was the sharp sound of the crack of a whip and the ten wagons and their teams were set in motion as the small wagon train set out for distant Somogy County and the unknown future that awaited them. Heinrich struggled not to look back and at the point when he almost did, the bells in the church tower began to toll and the assembled villagers standing along the roadside began to sing after them in final farewell:
Befiehl du deine Wege
Und was dein Herze kränk
Der allertreusten Pflege des
Der den Himmel lenkt
Der Wolken, Luft und Winden gibt
Wege, Lauf und Bahn
Der wird auch Wege finden
Da Dein Fuss gehen kann.
Commit all your coming and going to the Lord,
Rest your heart in Him who is on High
Whose faithfulness is proclaimed
O’er all the earth and sky.
He created clouds, air and wind.
He sets the course and provides the way
And will show you the way on your journey
And set a path for your footsteps to follow.
He did not turn to look back but looked ahead and watched his son Elias in front of him leading the playful cantering calf amidst the dust raised by the other wagons. Margaret reached for his hand and held it and then squeezed it. Heinrich offered a silent prayer for their protection and safe arrival in Somodor.
This wagon train heading out from Keszöhidegkút with its ten young families was the largest single group to leave the scattered overpopulated villages of the Children of the Danube in northwest Tolna County to make the trek to Somodor in March 1846. A smaller group later struck out from nearby Szárazd that included the families of Johann Jusst, Johann Becker, Adam Koch and his brother Nikolaus who like the others were landless and had fought poverty all of their lives but sought a better future for themselves and their families. They would be joined by the families of Adam Bresching, Konrad Fausst and Johann Rauch from Gyönk as well as Johann Schneider the newly appointed Levite Lehrer who came with them. Konrad Arnold set out by himself from Kalaznó and Johann Stockam from Mucsfa did the same. Heinrich Bayer came all the way from Bonyhád. Even Nagyszékely saw two of its young families leave: Martin Krebs and Nikolaus Stoss. The Children of the Danube were once more on the move, coming from different directions but with a single objective in mind. This small stream of settlers from the Tolna would meet another trickle from elsewhere at Somodor.
