mmOlS HISTOrdCAl SURVK 
 
Digitized by tiie Internet Arcliive 
 
 in 2012 witii funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://archive.org/details/sixtyyearsinchicOOIued 
 
AUGUST AND LENA LUEDERS 
 
Sixty Years in Cliicago 
 
 Autobiography 
 
 of 
 
 August Lueders 
 
 Chicago, Illinois 
 1929 
 
PRINTED BY 
 FRED KLEIK COMPANY 
 
L^W^''" ■ ^-"'^ 
 
 Introduction 
 
 to the 
 
 Biography of my Friend, August Lueders 
 
 When I reflect, mentally, and think of all my dear friends 
 at this moment, I must state that my friend, August Lueders, 
 was one of the noblest men, who, during his entire life 
 always sought to do the best. 
 
 Many years ago when my friend and brother August 
 Lueders paid his first visit to our Aurora Lodge in Mil- 
 waukee, we had a crowded house and there was not enough 
 room to accommodate the visiting brethren. Friend August 
 Lueders could not find a seat. I was at that time Treasurer 
 of the Lodge, and, as it was much easier for me to stand, I 
 yielded my officer's chair to August. Under the circum- 
 stances I considered this my duty. Friend August never for- 
 got this, although it was of no importance. He also had 
 numerous other friends in Milwaukee who honored him. 
 
 I wish to especially mention that August Lueders accom- 
 plished a great deal in his beloved Lessing Lodge. Enor- 
 mous festivities were conducted in a distinguished manner. 
 I personally attended all of these festivities. August 
 Lueders, with untiring energy, faithfully performed all of 
 his Masonic obligations. His outstanding achievement was 
 the Golden Jubilee Festival of Lessing Lodge. 
 
 With best wishes I remain, as always. 
 Your friend and brother, 
 
 C. H. KINNEKE. 
 
 Milwaukee, Wis., January 18, 1928. 
 
[WAS born on the 24th day of August, 1853, in the 
 village of Armstedt, Holstein, Germany, a son of 
 Hartwig Lueders, who first saw the light of day at the 
 same place on September 25th, 1825, and Margaret Christine 
 Seligmann, who was born on December 27, 1827, in the village 
 of Ascheberg in Holstein, but who later with her parents moved 
 to Armstedt, where they took up their homestead. My parents 
 married in 1851 and my father, who had learned the trade of a 
 weaver, in 1853 moved to Neumuenster, Holstein, from where 
 our family originally came, and established himself there as a 
 weaver of cloth. We lived there until July, 1868, when my 
 father and mother with their five children emigrated to America, 
 arriving in Chicago on the 8th day of August. 
 
 I spent my childhood in Neumuenster, and attended the 
 public school till the time of our emigration. The schools there, 
 which were run according to the Danish system, were not 
 the very best, but I received private lessons in Latin from 
 Rector Hussmann and French lessons from Miss Doris de 
 Charles who also gave me lessons in English twice a week for 
 three months. 
 
 That is all the instruction I received in these languages, the 
 rest I acquired by self -study. I was forced to learn to write 
 English when later on I was placed on the Chicago Police Force 
 and I acquired this knowledge by copying the reports in the 
 Police Station, where I was stationed. The desk officers there, 
 Thos. Maloney and Ignatz von Britzke, were of great help to 
 me so that within a year I was able to write very good reports. 
 
 During my boyhood years I had quite a lot of experiences. 
 As a small boy, the larger ones took me on the ice in winter 
 time to find out whether it was thick enough for them, and many 
 a time I broke through. Then they dragged me out of the 
 water, many times wet to the skin and with a great hallo, 
 brought me home, where quite frequently my mother greeted 
 me with a good spanking. Later on in summer, my father 
 
— 6 — 
 
 took me out bathing and taught me to swim. Soon I was 
 his better in this art so that when I was about 13 or 14 
 years of age I rescued two boys from drowning. They had 
 become unconscious. Also during the last year of our 
 stay at Neumuenster I saved a girl of my own age, who 
 also was unconscious when I brought her to shore. In all 
 three cases we brought them back to life by rolling them in 
 the grass for some length of time. Many other boys were 
 present at the three cases and all hollered: "He or she is 
 drowning," but nobody jumped into the water, which was 
 rather deep there, to help them. 
 
 Neumuenster at the time was a village of about 6,000 or 7,000 
 inhabitants, among whom were some very original people, who 
 committed many a joke, some of which I will relate later on. 
 One of these people, Carl Segen, lived on the same street — 
 Schleusberg — where my father had bought his property, right 
 next to Sievers Factory and from where we received our steam 
 power. Mr. Segen had two daughters, one of whom died, and the 
 other worked for a farmer in Rieckling, half way to Segeberg. 
 Some musicians of Fey's band, who on Saturday evenings had 
 played in Tungendorf, which now is incorporated in the town 
 of Neumuenster, passed by the old cemetery on their way 
 home, where the second church is now standing. They were 
 feeling good and one of them climbed on the surrounding 
 wall and said: '*We have played the whole night for the live 
 ones, now let me play something for the dead ones.*' He blew 
 into his trumpet when suddenly a voice which sounded like 
 it came from a grave was heard: *Xet the dead ones rest!'* 
 When he heard this several times he became so frightened that 
 he fell off the wall and was stricken with an acute nervous 
 fever. The wall was about 5 feet high. The other ones, show- 
 ing more courage, went into the cemetery and there found 
 Carl Segen on the grave of his daughter, sleeping off a bad 
 headache he had acquired by imbibing in too much whiskey. 
 
Another character who also committed much mischief kept 
 a general store right across the street from Mr. Segen. His 
 name was Kelsen. Once Mr. Sachs, the potter, who carried 
 his earthenware along for sale, met Mr. Kelsen who asked 
 him how much he wanted for his wares, and Sachs answered 
 *'A Preussen (Prussian).'' By that he meant a Thaler, but 
 did not express it in so many words, so Kelsen handed him the 
 picture of a Prussian soldier and then broke all the earthenware 
 Sachs was carrying with him. He then told him that if he 
 would come into his store he would give him a whole sheet 
 full of such picture soldiers. 
 
 It was shortly after the war of 1864 and Kelsen found 
 out that the postmaster had no assistant and that in case of 
 necessity he would have to drive the post coach himself. He 
 and the postmaster were deadly enemies, so Kelsen wanted 
 to play a trick on the postmaster. He went to Carl Segen 
 and invited him to visit his daughter in Rieckling; he 
 could go with the extra stage and take Mr. Christ Stoelt 
 and anyone else along and he gave him the money to do 
 so. Segen went to the postmaster and ordered the extra stage 
 coach. The Postmaster did not believe that Segen was in 
 earnest, but when he put up the money, Mr. Bloecker, the 
 postmaster, could not help himself. He started with them 
 at noontime, returning at 8 o'clock in the evening. During 
 the afternoon, Kelsen let it be known through the public village 
 crier that at 8 o'clock in the evening the three gentlemen were 
 to return from their excursion and that a great reception was 
 planned for them. More than half of the population of Neu- 
 muenster gathered on the Schleusberg at 8 o'clock in the 
 evening to see the fun and Mr. Bloecker and his guests were 
 received with great applause. 
 
 One night during the summer of 1863 fire broke out on the 
 Schleusberg. Eighteen buildings burned and our field police- 
 man, known under the name of Klas Vidudel, lost his life. 
 
— 8 — 
 
 He was an elderly man and could not get out of his house quick- 
 ly enough. His successor was a much younger man. A few 
 years later some six or seven boys were tramping on for- 
 bidden paths in the fields and the watchman was chasing us. 
 Only one way was left us for escape and that was through 
 Sievers* garden, which bordered on the public meadows. The 
 garden, however, also bordered on a branch of the Schwale, 
 which was a shallow river, and deep only after a heavy rain. 
 But it had some deep places, especially at its bends. One of 
 these places was known under the name of "Perkuhr* (horse's 
 hole) because one time a horse drowned there. 
 
 When we got to Mr. Sievers' garden, old Mr. Sievers was 
 standing there and forbade us to pass. Nothing was left for 
 us to do but jump into the Perkuhl with our clothes on our 
 backs. This we did, for we all could swim. On the other 
 side was the garden of a Mr. Pugh, an Englishman, and a 
 shoemaker by profession, who had bought that place. We all 
 got through safely. Mr. Pugh, who was standing there, laughed 
 out loud and the watchman who jumped in the river after us, 
 could not swim and would have drowned if Mr. Pugh had 
 not fished him out. But we were far away by that time in the 
 home of one, whose father had a bakery and where we dried 
 our clothing. 
 
 Three of us, Johannes Bartram, still living in Portland; 
 Eduard Mangelsen, who died long ago, and I carried out an- 
 other bit of mischief. We three were in the garden of 
 Mangelsen, which bordered on the pond formed by the 
 Schwale in the center of the village. On the other side of the 
 pond was Rector Hussmann's garden which was full of ripe 
 gooseberries. We took off our clothes, swam to the other 
 side of the pond, and laid down naked under the currant 
 and gooseberry bushes and partook of the berries to our heart's 
 content. Suddenly old Rector Hussmann appeared and asked 
 us where we had left our clothes. We answered that they were 
 
in Mangelsen's garden. To his question whether we could get 
 them, we, of course, had to answer that we could. Now then, 
 he said, go and get them. As he knew us, there was no sense 
 in running away. So we swam back to Mangelsen's garden 
 and from there returned with our clothes packed in bundles — 
 we had our shoes and everything packed tight together and 
 held them over our heads. He took the clothes away from us 
 and then ordered us to put them on. Meanwhile he fetched 
 some baskets and we had to pick the berries. We were al- 
 lowed to eat as much as we wanted. We picked berries from 
 3 o'clock until 9 o'clock at night. At 6 o'clock he brought 
 some sandwiches and a glass of milk for each of us. He 
 never said anything about the incident to our parents. 
 
 On another occasion he protected two of us. After 1864 
 we had a battalion of Prussian soldiers billetted in Neu- 
 muenster. They felt themselves much above us and called us 
 the foolish low Germans (Dumme Plattdeutsche). They them- 
 selves came from Magdeburg and Halle. In the summer of 
 1867 one of the lieutenants conducted himself very unbecom- 
 ingly toward our larger school-girls. These girls, aged about 
 14 years, had to pass a pleasure garden on their way home 
 from school, in order to cut short part of the way. This 
 particular lieutenant was there every afternoon and tried to 
 kiss the girls and also to lay hands on them in some way or 
 another. Complaint about this did not bring results. Then 
 another boy, Fritz Theede, and I decided to take the matter 
 into our own hands and to beat up the fellow in proper man- 
 ner. We were not afraid as we were big and strong. So on 
 the next afternoon we asked our good Rector to allow us to 
 go home earlier. An hour before close of school we were at 
 the alley, concealed behind a bush. As we expected, the 
 lieutenant appeared and when he tried to touch the girls, 
 my friend Fritz attacked him from the rear and held his arms 
 tight so that he could not use them, and I plastered his face 
 
-10- 
 
 with hardy blows with my fist so that the blood began to flow 
 freely and other marks became visible. The lieutenant began 
 to cry for help and when eventually two soldiers came from 
 the other side of the street, we threw the fellow on the ground 
 and by jumping over the ditches, which were on each side of 
 the street, made our escape without having been recognized. 
 The lieutenant was absent from the drill grounds for over two 
 weeks, and a complaint was lodged with the Rector next day, 
 with orders to apprehend the boys. The Rector gave us a 
 good talking to in a general way. But that was all. Everyone 
 in Neumuenster knew who the actors were, but not our Rector. 
 At least he did not betray us. And the girls were not molested 
 any more from that time on, neither by the lieutenant nor 
 anyone else. 
 
 During the last winter of my school days, I and three larger 
 boys were on our way home. It was about 6 o'clock, when 
 suddenly four soldiers appeared who accused us of having 
 thrown snow balls at them. We had not done this and told them 
 so, but the soldiers threatened to throw us into the water. Then 
 one of us answered that they might try it if they dared. They 
 attacked us, and then four couples were lying in the snow 
 with the soldiers beneath, for we were stronger than they 
 were, and they received the beating that was due them. Our 
 Rector had a report ready about this affair the next morning 
 also, but he laughed about it as did all the citizens of Neu- 
 muenster, for anything of that kind spread like wildfire and 
 found general approval, because it proved our fearlessness. 
 Our Rector was well beloved. Sometimes he preached in 
 the church in the other Pastor's absence and the church 
 was filled to overflowing while at other times hardly a dozen 
 people were present. Neumuenster at that time had many 
 original characters. For instance, a merchant, who dealt in 
 everything, was known under the name of Jochen Schmutt, 
 while his real name was Behrens. 
 
— 11 — 
 
 I visited my grandmother, who was living in Armstedt, 
 very frequently and many times I walked the whole distance 
 which was eleven English miles. My uncle Hans Seligmann, 
 who bought up butter for merchants in Hamburg, often took 
 me there with him during vacation times, where I measured 
 my strength with other boys. 
 
 My reminiscences of the Danish times are not of especial 
 importance as I was hardly ten and one-half years old when 
 the Saxons and the Hannoveranians marched into Holstein. 
 The Danes had built 18 forts around Neumuenster and there 
 they planned to oppose the invading armies. But when the 
 Saxons arrived, between Christmas and New Year's Day, the 
 Danish soldiers retired amidst curses and maledictions. They 
 called us *'Du Tueske Aberkat'' (Thou German Cat), also 
 pointed their guns at us, as if they wanted to fire, but they 
 did not do it. They were not more than 500 feet away. 
 
 My mother had washed on Tuesday and I came home with 
 two Saxons who were to be billetted with us, as Neumuenster 
 had no barracks. It was 2 :30 in the afternoon, so my mother 
 prepared two great cans of coffee, one for the family and the 
 apprentices (we had two of them) and one for the Saxons, 
 who, as is well known, like coffee very much. She then gave 
 the soldiers bread, butter, ham and sausage and told them to 
 help themselves. The coffee was kept warm in a tiled oven, 
 which also served for heating purposes. When mother re- 
 appeared at 4 o'clock with the hired girl to serve coffee to all 
 of us, she found that the Saxons had consumed all the coffee, 
 about 2 gallons, and she had to make new coffee for the family. 
 Thus she made the acquaintance of the real coffee-Saxons on 
 the first day of their arrival. 
 
 After that Hannoveranians, Prussians and Austrians al- 
 ternately arrived and the Saxons and Hannoveranians were 
 pushed aside, while the others occupied Holstein. 
 
 The Danes had the intention of voluntarily giving up Hoi- 
 
— 12 — 
 
 stein, but the people did not wish this ; neither did the Prussians 
 and Austrians desire it. But when the Prussians again placed 
 General Wrangel at the head of the army, the people of Hol- 
 stein made such a protest that he was recalled and Prince 
 Friedrich Carl was put in his place. The population claimed 
 that General Wrangel had sold and betrayed the people of 
 Schleswig-Holstein in their fight for liberation in 1848-1850 
 as he was a Dane himself and would stand by them. 
 
 The winter of 1864 was terribly cold with a great deal of 
 snow so that the highways could hardly be kept passable. But 
 as soon as a sufficient number of soldiers had arrived, the 
 dance began. In the southern part of Schleswig there were 
 the celebrated Dannewerker Forts, almost a thousand years 
 old, which the Danes had rebuilt or repaired. The Aus- 
 trians were placed opposite the city of Schleswig and westerly 
 thereof, while the Prussians were placed toward the east and 
 attacked Missunde, but could not get through there. 
 
 Then something happened that is not narrated in the history 
 books, but which is true notwithstanding. The Danes had 
 beaten up a young fisherman of Eckernfoerde and put him into 
 prison. However, he escaped from there and he knew the 
 country thoroughly. He had observed that the Schlei 
 was frozen over at a place where it was narrow, and not well 
 guarded, and it was possible that soldiers with small cannons 
 could get over it. The young fisherman reported at the head- 
 quarters of Prince Friedrich Karl. The Prince had already 
 retired, but as the young man did not wish to impart his 
 knowledge to anyone else, the Prince was awakened and thus 
 heard the story of the young fisherman. 
 
 The Prince asked him whether he could ride horseback 
 and on his acknowledging this, an adjutant was sent along with 
 him. On their return, the fisherman showed them two 
 big piles of straw, which could be rolled around the wheels of 
 the cannons so that they would not make any noise. Under 
 
— 13 — 
 
 the guidance of the fisherman 5000 Prussians succeeded in 
 getting across there before the Danes noticed it, and they, in 
 consequence, were forced to withdraw. 
 
 The Prussians could not pursue the Danes as all highways 
 were «o full of snow that nobody could get through. The 
 Austrians, who had been stationed before the city of 
 Schleswig, succeeded in pursuing the Danes on the highway 
 to Flensburg. They caught up with them near Oewersee, 
 where a rearguard action was fought. 
 
 This young fisherman received 1000 Prussian Thalers as a 
 reward and the Prussian government offered to train him as 
 an officer. Whether he accepted that, I do not know, as the 
 German history books do not contain the story. So one can 
 see that even at that time they understood how to falsify his- 
 tory. But the above story is the truth. 
 
 We did not have to go to school much as all schools had 
 been turned into hospitals for the wounded. Thus we had 
 plenty of time to observe everything; and almost every day 
 new soldiers passed through the town. Then at the time when 
 the heavy snowfall occurred, everybody, poor or rich, had to 
 get out and shovel snow so as to clean up the highways and 
 byways to Rendsburg, for the one track railroad could not help 
 very much. Neumuenster as the former central shipping point 
 had very many horse stables and these were used to the utmost 
 extent. 
 
 One day we received as an extra addition a small Saxon 
 soldier who had three toes frozen on each foot. The next 
 morning the regimental physician came and asked my mother 
 for some hot water, of which we had plenty. Mother asked 
 him what he wanted it for and he answered, to amputate the 
 toes. "What do you want to do," asked mother, while I was 
 standing beside her, "make this man miserable and a cripple 
 for the rest of his Hfe?" With that, my mother, a farmer's 
 daughter and not a little one at that, took the doctor by his 
 
— 14 — 
 
 neck and pants and threw him out of the door. Outside, the 
 doctor, quite excited, could not say anything but "Yes, dear 
 madam ! Yes, dear madam !'* And my mother told the doctor 
 that if he could not help this young man without amputating 
 his toes, she would help the poor fellow herself. Then the 
 doctor adopted another attitude and the poor fellow kept 
 his toes. 
 
 The Prussian soldiers behaved themselves very well, and 
 were well disciplined. But with the Austrians it sometimes 
 was different. For instance, I always had to try everything 
 that we gave them to eat first to show that it was not poisoned 
 before they touched anything themselves. They committed 
 many petty nuisances and once a Hungarian hussar chased 
 my mother out of the house with a drawn sabre. How- 
 ever he received 72 strokes with a cane for it. Next to us, at 
 Sievers, a captain of cavalry was billetted. Otherwise we did 
 not have much trouble and got along well with the soldiers, 
 but many other citizens did not have such luck. 
 
 It was the rule that the soldiers must be fed first. 
 Now during the winter many people had "Schwarzsauer" (a 
 good meal for those who knew what it was) — a soup made up 
 with blood. The soldiers did not want to eat this, as they did 
 not want shoe polish. My mother did not offer it to the Aus- 
 trians. But when the soldiers saw that we relished it, they also 
 wanted to try it, and after tasting it, declared it was good. 
 
 From 1848 the exasperation against the Prussians was 
 great. When on April 18 they stormed the Dueppeler Forts 
 and on the next morning King William with his entourage 
 (Bismarck was also there) passed through Neumuenster, our 
 parents admonished us that we school boys, who at the time 
 were temporarily stationed in two new buildings, should un- 
 der no conditions take off our hats and holler *'Hurrah." 
 This was all right, for the orders of the parents were strictly 
 obeyed. It was a shame for the teachers, though, but they 
 
— 15 — 
 
 could not help it, for the injunctions of the parents came 
 first. I stood not three feet away from King William, later 
 emperor of Germany. That action was not a show of friend- 
 ship for the Danes but the expression of the bitter feelings 
 against Prussia. 
 
 Schleswig-Holstein then for three years was under a pro- 
 visional rule, Schleswig under Prussian and Holstein under 
 Austrian rule, and General Gablenz was commissioner. He 
 was very well liked and when the Prussians annexed Schles- 
 wig-Holstein on January 6, 1867, we boys threw snowballs at 
 the Colonel who read the annexation document on the public 
 square and one of the snowballs struck him right in the mouth 
 when he was ready to bring out an ovation for King Wilhelm. 
 Thus he could not cry out the "Hoch der Konig!" We how- 
 ever were chased away. 
 
 The times for the business men turned from bad to worse 
 and when my father lost 4000 Prussian Thalers during that 
 year, my parents decided finally that it would be best to emi- 
 grate. They could not sell the house and for that reason they 
 took up as much in mortgages as was possible. Then on July 
 22, 1868, we left on the steamer Holstein from Hamburg for 
 America and on August 3rd at 4 in the morning we arrived 
 in New York. On the next day we left there for Chicago on 
 an immigrant train and arrived here on August 8th, a Satur- 
 day morning, at 10 o'clock. My father had still 70 paper 
 dollars in his possession. We were 5 children, and I, the 
 oldest, not yet 15 years of age. 
 
 When we arrived at the Rock Island station some fellow 
 took hold of my father and wanted to do everything for him, 
 but a policeman — Henry Simmrott — gave him a good thrash- 
 ing. Six years after that I myself was a colleague of that 
 policeman and we often talked about the incident. 
 
 On the morning of our second day in New York I had a 
 small adventure. There were two men from Neumuenster and 
 
— 16 — 
 
 one from Altona who wanted to see something of the town 
 and we were nearly through Battery Park, when a man ap- 
 proached us and wanted to sell us a watch. We, of course, 
 did not wish to buy one, for we all had watches, but he be- 
 came obnoxious and wanted to make an exchange with us 
 and drew my watch out of my pocket. I was the youngest 
 in the crowd, but not the smallest, and I could not stand this, 
 so while I took my watch away from him with my left hand, 
 I applied two good blows on his face with my right fist so that 
 the blood began to flow. He hollered "police, police'' and ran 
 away, and we, who also were somewhat frightened, ran back 
 to Castle Garden, where the immigrants landed at that time. 
 It is now an aquarium. 
 
 That was my first reception in this country and later on I 
 experienced quite a number of similar affairs here. 
 
 My first place of employment in Chicago was with Schober 
 and Heinemann at the southeast corner of Clark and Lake 
 Streets. On Washington's Birthday, we had a half holiday 
 and I went home. A lot of snow was still laying on the 
 streets. At that time we lived at Catharine (15th) street 
 near Canal, and when I neared there, I saw a crowd of seven 
 or eight boys standing there, one of whom said: "Let us 
 have some fun with this Dutchman." All were armed with 
 sticks, but the Dutchman who did not understand the joke, 
 sailed right in between the boys, snatched the stick away from 
 one of them and hit to the right and left in such manner that 
 all the boys ran away. Their leader was 18 years old and 
 of German descent. He ran along Wright street near the 
 house of his parents through a gate in the fence, which he 
 slammed shut. I, however, jumped over the fence and gave 
 this boy an extra thrashing, which signs still showed two weeks 
 later. 
 
 The uncle of that boy was a justice of the peace at that 
 time, named Enzenbacher. The fellow had me arrested and 
 
— 17 — 
 
 although all the neighbors appeared and testified that they had 
 seen everything and were glad that I had beaten and chased 
 away these street gamins, the judge fined me $5.00 and costs, 
 total $7.50. That money our neighbors put up for me so that 
 I would not be sent to the work-house. I repaid the amount 
 at $1.00 per week. 
 
 Eight years later I got more than even with this Mr. Enzen- 
 bacher. I received the third degree in Lessing Lodge No. 
 557, A. F. & A. M., when many visitors were present and 
 among them was Mr. Enzenbacher. He also wanted to con- 
 gratulate me and press my hand as a fellow Mason, but I re- 
 fused it and said that I would not recognize him as a brother 
 under any condition because he had fined the young immigrant, 
 who had defended himself against a lot of loafers, one of whom, 
 the leader, his nephew, who was three years older than my- 
 self, $5.00 and costs, and that the money so obtained had been 
 blood-money and that I despised him on that account. I was 
 even, for all those present said I was in the right. I just 
 mention this to show how unjustly the immigrants were often 
 treated at that time. 
 
 During the summer of 1869 my parents allowed themselves 
 to be fooled by an agent, a former land owner, into moving to 
 Vaiden, Mississippi, to acquire land there by working for it. 
 I did not go along and remained here in Chicago. In the 
 meantime I had changed my place of employment and worked 
 with a house painter by the name of Wm. Reasons, a Canadian, 
 where I earned $7.00 per week. However, when my parents 
 moved away, I had to pay $5.00 per week for board, leaving 
 me just $2.00 per week for my own necessities. But my board- 
 inghouse keepers complained that I ate too much, because I was 
 still growing and also had a good appetite. 
 
 A colleague of mine was boarding with a saloonkeeper and 
 paid only $4.00 per week. So I went there to get my board 
 and lodging. The man was from Mecklenburg and I asked 
 
— 18 — 
 
 him if I could eat as much as I wanted, whereupon he told his 
 wife: *'Give that boy as much to eat as he can stand/' On the 
 day before I left the $5.00 place, at the advice of my room- 
 mate, I ate all the pancakes that the cook brought into the room. 
 My roommate just ate a few, all the rest were for me, and 
 the landlady got mad about it. My roommate, an American, 
 laughed about it and made fun of her. 
 
 I came to Chicago with a turner-pass of the Turn-Verein 
 in Neumuenster. That pass was accepted by the Turnverein 
 Aurora and I became a member of that Society. As to my age, 
 nobody inquired about that as I looked much older than my 
 16 years. The following spring a young man with other immi- 
 grants from Neumuenster arrived in Chicago. He came from 
 Altona, and his name was John Rumpf. 
 
 When my parents moved away we got acquainted with a 
 family by the name of Rath, from Pommerania. The head of 
 the family was a widow, whose oldest son I met in the Aurora 
 Turn-Verein. Later on we moved over there and boarded with 
 Mrs. Rath. The old lady took care of our wash and so we 
 were better oil than before. In fact, I now had $4.00 per 
 week for myself and sometimes I made extra money painting 
 floors, etc. This was enough for me to get along with. 
 
 As I stated in the beginning, my mother was born in the 
 village of Ascheberg, where her ancestors had settled, coming 
 from Saxony in 1687. The church registers state that John 
 Andreas Seligmann, farmer and soldier, born in Saxony, had 
 come there. In 1719 he married a girl by the name of Pries, 
 and a descendant, Hans Jacob Seligmann, was born in 1782 in 
 Hoefen. The latter was married in 1809 to Anna Maria Kiek- 
 busch from Gniessau, Holstein, that part which belonged to 
 Oldenburg. By chance we met a relative of Anna Maria 
 Kiekbusch in Cincinnati on one of our visits there. We came 
 from New Orleans, and were in Cincinnati for three days, but 
 did not meet him again. 
 
— 19 — 
 
 I knew my grandfather very well and have his silver spoon 
 today. I can tell many stories about him, things that he told 
 me himself. Grandfather was a very fine man and was well- 
 known for his unusual strength. One of my old friends, 
 who knew him better than I did, also told many stories about 
 him. In 1812 when the Russians invaded Holstein, grand- 
 father brought his wife and son into the neutral district of 
 Eutin. On his way home he saw three horses tied before a 
 house. He became suspicious and picking up a heavy piece of 
 wood, went inside and found a soldier with drawn sabre stand- 
 ing guard, while the other two were plundering the house. 
 The man on guard lifted his sword to slay my grandfather, 
 but the latter was quicker with his heavy stick and the Russian 
 was laying on the floor with his head crushed. The other two 
 met the same fate by two more strikes and three dead plun- 
 derers were the result. Grandfather and a friend put the three 
 corpses, just as they were, on the wagon and took them to a 
 heavily timbered place some distance away, but the horses they 
 kept for themselves. 
 
 In the village where my grandfather lived, a ghost appeared 
 every night about midnight. Grandfather wanted to know who 
 the ghost was and notwithstanding the pleadings of grand- 
 mother, he went to meet the ghost. A few blows with his 
 heavy cane and the ghost sank down. Next morning it was 
 found that a farmer of the village had played the trick. He 
 had to remain in bed for over two months and never again 
 tried to play ghost. 
 
 At that time it was the custom that the farmers of one 
 village went to visit those of other villages during festive times. 
 One of my friends, Hans Runge, who knew my grandfather, 
 told me the following story: my grandfather had moved 
 to the village of Armstedt in 1840. One day when they 
 were on such a festival visit to a neighboring village, the young 
 people began a fight and despite the fact that the older people 
 
— 20 — 
 
 asked them to stop, they kept on fighting, so my grandfather was 
 called to restore order. He was playing cards, but got up from 
 the table and made an appeal for peace. As the ruffians did not 
 want to listen to that, he took one of them by the legs and with 
 that young man's body as a weapon he beat up the rest of 
 them. That helped and soon order was restored. 
 
 A similar affair happened in another village. While visiting 
 there the young fellows commenced to fight. Grandfather took 
 one after the other and threw them up on the hill. This was 
 a place about ten feet higher than the dancing floors. In a 
 short time order was restored and they then asked who the 
 strong man was. When they learned that it was Mr. Seligmann 
 from Armstedt they were well satisfied as they did not dare to 
 get into a fight with him. 
 
 It was well known also that in spring or fall at seeding 
 time he took a sack of wheat or other grain, weighing 600 or 
 700 pounds, on his back and carried it to the field. I surely 
 would have learned a great deal more about my grandfather 
 from friend Runge, but he died suddenly. When my grand- 
 father died in the spring of 1863, I was about 10 years old. 
 
 When the great fire broke out in Hamburg in 1842 he fur- 
 nished four horses for the fire engines from Rendsburg, which 
 were sent there. The fire lasted three days. He went with the 
 fire apparatus to Kaltenkirchen, where other horses were sup- 
 plied, and from there drove two horses with a wagon to 
 Hamburg. 
 
 That is about all I know of my grandfather on my 
 mother's side. He told me a story of one of his ancestors, 
 who was shanghaied by emissaries who tried to enlist or 
 kidnap large men for the army of the father of Frederick 
 the Great. They had gotten him drunk, put the bounty money 
 into his pocket and succeeded in getting him over the frontier 
 into Mecklenburg. When he awakened during the night, he 
 found that he was bound. However, he broke the cords hold- 
 
— 21 — 
 
 ing him, picked up a heavy cane and with it belabored his 
 captors until they were half dead and could not pursue him. 
 So he escaped and got back safely to Holstein, where he was 
 protected, as Holstein was under Danish rule. 
 
 Of my grandparents on my father's side I do not know 
 very much except that my grandfather had a smith's shop in 
 Armstedt, which, up to the time of our emigration was in 
 possession of my father's oldest brother. His name was Hans 
 Lueders. Both grandparents died in 1848 of pneumonia. 
 
 The property which Grandfather Seligmann bought in Arm- 
 stedt in 1840, was sold back to the former owner, Urach Buenz. 
 He was the great-uncle of Vice-Consul F. Buenz who at one time 
 resided here in Chicago. Elizabeth, daughter of Mark Buenz, 
 married Mark Delps, bought back the property in 1856, and their 
 daughter married Joachim Rawe, whom I knew very well and 
 whom I frequently met when I visited my grandmother. I met 
 their son, Joachim Rawe, in 1900 and also in 1925, when I 
 went there on a visit. Consul Buenz, as is well known, was 
 wounded in the beginning of the war and died as a conse- 
 quence. His uncle, the well beloved Consul Dr. Karl Buenz 
 from Marne, Holstein, was betrayed by certain Germans 
 and was sentenced to four years imprisonment at Fort Leaven- 
 worth. He did not want to accept a pardon from President 
 Wilson and died despite the fact that the best of care was 
 given him there. 
 
 That is all I know of my grandparents in Germany. Here 
 is a story that I had almost forgotten. I do not remember 
 exactly whether it was in 1862 or 1863, when one Sun- 
 day afternoon people came into our garden and hollered that 
 Sievers' great factory was afire. Mr. Sievers and family had 
 visited on a farm known as Bothkamp that morning. 
 I remember that fire very well. All the hose that could be 
 obtained was laid into the river Schwale, which ran along 
 our house, and connected with the fire pumps, but the fac- 
 
— 22 — 
 
 tory burned down. Our small machine shop and Mr. Sievers' 
 residence were saved. The latter however later on was torn 
 down and rebuilt. 
 
 Every year we had a shooting festival. For three years I was 
 an officer in the society, twice lieutenant. The last year I was 
 the highest alderman, and on the mornings of all these occa- 
 sions we marched to the place where the festival was to be held. 
 The last year we had five companies, who previously had been 
 drilled and on one occasion I saved a boy from drowning. 
 At all of these festivals, Mr. Sievers loaned me his sword and 
 I wore it at four successive yearly festivals. Mr. Sievers was 
 an officer of the citizens' guild, which also had a shooting festival 
 every year. Neighbor Sievers' youngest son who was born the 
 year in which we emigrated, has a very responsible position 
 here with Wieboldt's. 
 
 When we were in Neumuenster in 1900, the shooting 
 festival was being celebrated and we took part in it. Our son 
 Walter marched around with the sword that I had carried for 
 four years. 
 
 While writing this, a few more memories of my childhood 
 days come back to me. It was just after the war of 1864. We 
 still had soldiers stationed with us and we always had two of 
 them as Neumuenster did not have any barracks. There was 
 a building there that was called a barracks (Kaserne) where 
 the town hall now stands. In the basement of the building 
 was a saloon which as is the custom in most German cities 
 was called "Rathskeller.'' In 1900 we had gone there with my 
 schoolmates and their wives, and my cousin, Carl Meier, from 
 Costa Rica, and spent several wonderful and pleasant evenings. 
 Even at my birthday celebration, uncle Geisler came, and the 
 beginning of it was celebrated right in that Rathskeller. August 
 Knorr, Heinrich Schliemann and Mrs. Theede and daughter 
 all of Chicago, were present. The celebration of the evening 
 before continued till 4 o'clock the next morning and started 
 
— 23 — 
 
 in again at midday. In the afternoon we went to the Tivoli, 
 whose owner was Mr. Rohwer, and whose wife, also my age, 
 had gone to school with me. Mr. Rohwer made me a present 
 of a badge which I still have on my watch chain. 
 
 In 1866 I saw the Austrians take leave. The officers em- 
 braced each other, but at the railway station I heard them 
 say : *'Maybe next week we will be shooting at each other/' — • 
 which really was the case. In 1867 the Lochstedter Lager 
 (camp) was built between Kellinghusen and Itzehoe. In 
 August the soldiers had a great time playing at war, and on 
 the 18th, at the birthday of Emperor Franz Joseph of 
 Austria a great celebration of the 26,000 Prussian soldiers 
 with their bands, took place. In the evening there was a 
 "Zapfenstreich'' (an evening marching parade). It really was 
 a great concert and was the only time in my life that I 
 saw so many military musicians together at one time. I 
 was 14 years old and had camped with them in their tents 
 for three days and three nights, which to me was some- 
 thing entirely new and very interesting. At this time we had 
 no idea that in the following year we would be in Chicago ; that 
 my parents would have to leave home and field there, as they 
 could not sell it. 
 
 After my parents left Chicago and I was boarding with 
 Mrs. Rath, I got acquainted with several of my young coun- 
 trymen. At the corner of Second and Rucker streets, now 
 Huron and Racine, there was a Methodist jumper church. 
 Now when the worshipers there were at their so-called religious 
 service and became excited, they cried : ''We have Him, the Holy 
 Ghost" and then we boys let one or two white pigeons fly 
 into the window — for does it not say in the Bible that the Holy 
 Ghost appeared in the form of a white pigeon? 
 
 On New Year's night the boys got me out of bed to help 
 celebrate Sylvester with them, and my landlady gave me $1.00, 
 of which I brought back 75 cents the following afternoon. We 
 
— 24 — 
 
 stayed at a saloon the whole night and until 3 o^clock the next 
 afternoon, when a woman, who came from Meldorf, took us 
 home. The saloon had the name of "J^^gs Holt Fast'* (Boys 
 Hold On) and the proprietor's name was Hans Runge from 
 Sarlhusen, Holstein. 
 
 At the beginning of the war between Germany and France 
 in 1870, the members of the Turner societies were very much 
 molested by the Scandinavians and Irishmen, because the 
 propagandists had told them that this war against France was 
 a religious war. But the sentiment took a rapid change after 
 Napoleon with 80,000 men had been captured at Sedan. The 
 news arrived about noontime and a great crowd of people 
 assembled on La Salle and Randolph streets near the Metro- 
 politan Hall. When my employer, Julius Schuldt and I 
 arrived there a temporary platform had been erected before 
 a window on Randolph street, from which speeches were made. 
 
 All the streets around there were so crowded that the street 
 cars had to turn back on Wells street. Mr. Eduard Juessen 
 told the assembled people that *'On our inquiry whether the 
 report about the capture of Napoleon was based on trutK, the 
 answer confirming same has just arrived.'' The ovation that 
 broke out cannot be described. All German folk-songs were 
 sung and all Scandinavians and Irish who were met received 
 a good thrashing. 
 
 For the benefit of the wounded many picnics and concerts 
 had been held, whereby here in Chicago alone over $120,000.00 
 had been collected and sent to Germany. I took part in all 
 these affairs and as I did not have much money and so could 
 not give much, I served as waiter or in some other ways. 
 
 During that time, the two sons of Mrs. Rath and I had 
 been invited to a party on the North side, but the landlady 
 there sent us home right after midnight. It was on a Saturday 
 evening and on our way home we passed the Deutsches Haus 
 (German House), a three-story brick building at the corner 
 
— 25 — 
 
 of Wells and Indiana streets. There was music in the hall and 
 we walked upstairs. What did we find? A French ball ar- 
 ranged for the benefit of their wounded soldiers. Entrance 
 fee $1.00. The two Rath boys intended to go home, for they 
 really were somewhat afraid, but with the little French that I 
 had learned — it was nearly 1 o'clock — I offered 50 cents for 
 entrance fee, which was accepted and we entered. There we 
 found a countryman of ours married to a French woman. We 
 danced there with the French ladies till 6 in the morning and 
 we surely had plenty of good wine which was offered us when 
 we escorted our partners back to their seats. 
 
 Not long after that several peace celebrations took place 
 here in Chicago. The first one was held in Crosby's Opera 
 House, corner of State and Washington streets, where only 
 music, songs and speeches were had. And at 11 o'clock in the 
 evening immediately following this program an ardent dis- 
 cussion concerning the peace celebration arose and a decision 
 was reached to stage another more appropriate celebration right 
 on the street. A big parade was decided upon, one that should 
 outdo anything ever shown in the city. 
 
 The parade was composed of eight sections. Everything and 
 everybody took part in it, every business and every trade were 
 represented. The bricklayers, for instance, built a float that 
 for many years thereafter was a show piece in Lincoln Park. 
 The bakeries baked bread, rolls, and cakes, which were distri- 
 buted among the people. The butchers made sausages. It was 
 wonderful. 
 
 The Turner societies were in the fifth section, and when- 
 ever they found anyone who would not celebrate with them, 
 he was convinced in a friendly manner that it was best for 
 him also to celebrate. So when the workmen in a window 
 and door factory on Fulton and Desplaines streets saw the 
 Turners coming, they jumped out of the windows of the first 
 floor. No one was hurt, for the windows were not very high. 
 
— 26 — 
 
 The Turners marched to the Haymarket, where the Turner 
 section was organized. All four Turner societies met there 
 and the whole parade got started. Milwaukee avenue at that 
 time did not come down further than Desplaines street. The 
 parade marched south in Desplaines street to Harrison, then 
 to Halsted street, south to 12th street and along 12th street 
 to Clark street. Here the Turners had to fight their way 
 through — every foot of it. I was over 6 feet tall and right 
 lineman. With every step I had to use my fist in defense or 
 attack. Then on Clark street we marched north to Washing- 
 ton street and east to State street, then north on State street 
 to Indiana street (now Grand avenue) and then west to Wells 
 street. On Wells street we marched north to the place of 
 celebration, Wright's Grove Park, at Diversey and Clark street. 
 
 As the Turners arrived there, it began to rain, keeping 
 up for at least half an hour, and we had no place to go 
 where we could protect ourselves. We all were dressed in white 
 linen suits and were soon wet to the skin. But that did not dampen 
 our excitement and pleasure. The rest of the parade arrived 
 also soaking wet — musicians and all. When it began to rain, 
 the last ones were at the Tremont House, corner Lake and 
 Dearborn streets, but arrived playing and singing. 
 
 On Clark street we were attacked from the roof of a 
 Jewish butcher's shop. We stormed the house and applied 
 a good beating to two men upstairs and to a third one in the 
 yard. In the house we had to break open the door to the 
 kitchen in order to get to our attackers. The owner, Mr. Levy, 
 tried to have us arrested, but our leader, Fritz Markus, ex- 
 plained to the policemen that Mr. Levy could have prevented 
 the brawl and that he was not sure that his Turners would 
 voluntarily go along with the policemen. The latter saw the 
 truth of this and let us march on. 
 
 At the place of celebration, several companies of militia 
 were present, who had been organized by Col. Ostermann after 
 
— 27 — 
 
 the Civil War. At the corner of Clark street and Belmont 
 avenue, there was a small pleasure grove, bordering the larger 
 one. Here an Irish society had a picnic and many of the 
 participants sat on the fence and used objectionable language. 
 Col. Ostermann called his company to attention, ordered it to 
 march up to the fence and get ready for firing. The guns 
 had been loaded with blank cartridges. He gave the order to 
 fire, and when the guns went off, a number of these fellows 
 fell off the fence, crying that they had been wounded. Of 
 course, that was not the case, but the fright they experienced 
 served a good purpose and we were not molested further. 
 
 In the foregoing I have given, a general outline of my boy- 
 hood life. My parents, as already told, went south, to Vaiden, 
 Miss., in 1869, inveigled there by false promises, and they 
 and my sisters and brothers were kept in almost slavery. The 
 children could not go to school, but all had to work hard. My 
 parents then wrote me that I should send them $90.00 which 
 they needed to escape that slavery. I had just paid my debts 
 made during the winter and earned but $1.75 per day, when I 
 had work, which was not always the case. My boss did not 
 have any money, but my landlady's son trusted me with the 
 money. It took me two years to repay it, but my parents came 
 back. We were poor, but happy together again. They had to 
 escape from Vaiden during the night. 
 
 We had just fixed up our home when the great Chicago 
 Fire broke out. Happily we did not live in the district where 
 the fire did all the damage. The first fire broke out on Satur- 
 day evening, October 8th, and during that night four whole 
 blocks were destroyed, but the firemen got control of it after 
 a hard fight. I was up with friends the whole night till five in 
 the morning before I went home. On the way home I met 
 people who during the night had been to a ball in the Aurora 
 Turn-Hall. Husband and wife who had a boarding house on 
 Canal street, south of Adams street, with the servant girls 
 
— 28 — 
 
 and the boarders had gone to that ball, and on coming home 
 they found everything in ruins. 
 
 But the next evening the worst was to start. At 9:30 the 
 fire bells began to ring. It was burning on the southwest side. 
 About a half mile south, a man from Neumuenster, Koester 
 by name, had a small store. We ran up in that direc- 
 tion and found our countryman half the distance from his 
 place to us. He brought things there for safekeeping. We went 
 back with him and carried out what we could, but when we 
 returned the second time, the house was already on fire. The 
 wind had developed into a gale, the flames waved high into the 
 air and the burning cinders fell like rain. 
 
 I thought that the firemen would be able to get control of 
 the fire somewhere a little to the north and went home with 
 my father to sleep as I had not had any sleep the night before. 
 At 4:30 in the morning my mother woke me, urging me to 
 run to the north side, where my father's uncle was living some 
 two miles north from where the fire had started. When I 
 wanted to wash myself, I found there was no water; the water- 
 works were already burning. The fire spread very rapidly, 
 because the waterworks, where the pumps were, as well as 
 most of the houses had roofs of wooden shingles, which easily 
 caught fire. My uncle and aunt lived in the direction of the 
 fire, and when I came there, their house was gone. I helped 
 the people wherever I could and pretty nearly perished before 
 I got to the Deutsches Haus (German House) which also was 
 in flames. I then hurried home. 
 
 My mother sent me to get water at the Northwestern Railroad 
 Station which had brought water into the city for distribu- 
 tion. From there we secured a little water for cooking and 
 washing purposes daily for several weeks. When mother 
 was making coffee for breakfast, uncle, who was a news- 
 paper carrier, arrived with a little wagon full of household 
 goods. To my mother's question where aunt was, he said 
 
— 29 — 
 
 that she with three small children were on the north side near 
 Washington Park. My boss, Julius Schuldt, then hitched his 
 horse to the wagon and we went to get aunt. We could not 
 cross the bridge on Chicago avenue any more, so came in from 
 the north on Clark street, which was not yet burning; then I 
 saw the old Turn-Hall afire. When we turned in Walton 
 Place, aunt and the children were sitting on a pile of goods 
 covered with a mattress which, without their knowledge, was 
 burning. I jumped off the wagon, snatched the smoking 
 mattress away and extinguished the burning parts of my 
 aunt's clothing. Mr. Schuldt had turned the wagon around; 
 I lifted aunt and the children on it, also her possessions. I 
 wanted to get on the wagon too, but the horse jumped ahead 
 and I fell flat on the street and did not get away with them, 
 for when I had raised myself, the wagon was racing around 
 the corner. 
 
 I then went to the corner, where another loaded wagon was 
 passing, also in a hurry. A chest fell from the wagon, but the 
 driver did not stop because he could not check the horses. In 
 falling the chest broke open. It was full of hats and I took 
 one of them as my old hat was partly burned. While I was 
 thus hunting in the box, a woman came along, took me by the 
 knees and begged me to save her. On Dearborn street one 
 could not get through in a northerly direction, nor on La- 
 Salle street, but on Clark street the road to the north was still 
 passable. The woman had a little child with her, also a sewing 
 machine and a bundle of clothing. 
 
 We had not gone very far, when we nearly got encircled 
 by the flames, but we succeeded in passing through, while I 
 was carrying the bundle. We both ran as quickly as we could, 
 although we were carrying the sewing machine between us 
 and the woman was leading or carrying the child as best she 
 could. Thus we succeeded in getting through for about half 
 a mile in a northerly direction, where the woman had friends. 
 
— 30 — 
 
 The fire got up to that place also, but only some single houses 
 burned down. 
 
 When we arrived there, the woman knelt down and 
 prayed to Saint Mary for my further welfare, also gave me 
 $2.00, which I took as I did not have another penny with me, 
 and I wished to be of assistance where it was needed. 
 
 On my way home I found a large milk can, full of dirt, 
 which I poured out, and a sofa (lounge) also full of dirt in 
 a ditch. When I came home with it, my mother asked me, 
 ''what do you want to do with that?'' She left the lounge stand- 
 ing outside, but the milk can came in very handy as we had 
 to get water for the horse also. Then later on, when the water- 
 works were temporarily running, my mother looked at the 
 lounge. The police did not want it, although everything that 
 had been saved had to be delivered. She cleaned the lounge 
 and later it became very useful as I became ill with typhoid 
 fever and two physicians had given up hope for me. 
 Fourteen weeks and even longer I lay on the lounge during 
 that winter. It was fourteen weeks before I could make any 
 effort to walk again. However, I got better, although after 
 that, twice a year for quite a long time, I had an attack of 
 rheumatism. I regained my health, but never was as strong 
 as I had been. 
 
 I never heard of the woman whom I had assisted during 
 the fire until I told the story of that incident in detail 
 as I remembered it in later years. Namely, 39 years later — I 
 then was agent for the Manhattan Brewing Company for quite 
 some time — I called at a saloon on Clark street, north of the 
 Sherman House, where I made my collections monthly. The 
 name of the saloonkeeper was Mr. Trebes. It was just at 
 the anniversary of the Great Fire and three young men were 
 standing at the bar talking about that catastrophe. They told 
 all kinds of stories about things that should have happened 
 then, especially about thieves and robbers that had been caught, 
 
— 31 — 
 
 hung and shot. I joined them and told them that nobody had 
 been shot, that nobody had been strung up to a lamppost, and 
 that all the thieves caught had received a good thrashing, noth- 
 ing else. At the Chicago avenue bridge, which had caught fire 
 and had been turned open so as to permit the fire to be extin- 
 guished, quite a number of people, maybe about a hundred, 
 had been caught there and could not get across. Then when 
 the heat got too great, many of them had craweld into great 
 water pipes, thinking that they would be protected there, but 
 all of them perished miserably and from the remains nobody 
 could be identified. That was all that had happened and very 
 few people had lost their lives. 
 
 The boys then insisted that I should tell them some of my 
 experiences. I told them all that I could remember at the time 
 and the story about the woman and her child, and where 
 I had left them. While I related my story, I saw that the wife 
 of the saloonkeeper became quite excited, and walked up and 
 down behind the bar. She asked me then what the woman had 
 done after I had brought her to the place of safety, and when 
 I told her, she cried out, ''that was my mother.'' My first ques- 
 tion then was, if she still were living, but she said that her 
 mother had died some time ago and that the girl had been her 
 sister, who also was sleeping the eternal sleep. She told me 
 that her mother had often related the story of her having been 
 saved and many times uttered the wish that she could once 
 more see the young German who had saved her. I do not 
 have to add that that noon and many times thereafter I feasted 
 at the home of Mrs. Trebes in a princely manner. 
 
 One episode I have forgotten to mention. One day, we had 
 the horse and buggy of my employer, and when we came from 
 bathing in the lake where Streeterville now stands, a number 
 of residents of Indiana street who had an Italian with a grind- 
 organ with them, stopped us and we had to go with them to 
 Fritz Mack's place at Rush and Kinzie; he had just returned 
 
— 32 — 
 
 from a trip to Milwaukee so a reception was tendered him. 
 He had a musical instrument in his home, but it did not work. 
 So when we got there and greeted him, we demanded 
 that he play something for us. But when the instrument gave 
 forth only a few pitiful grunts, one of us said that as he had 
 no music in the house we had brought some along. Our Italian 
 began to grind his organ and could not be brought to stop. He 
 had his instructions. The saloonkeeper became desperate as 
 his place was overcrowded, mostly by Irish women. He asked 
 us to be reasonable and take our music away with us. So after 
 he had treated us in proper manner we went away. 
 
 A Mr. Clettenberg rode on horseback, the rest rode with the 
 musician in the wagon and we drove up and down Indiana 
 street and visited a few more saloons, which were only too 
 glad to get rid of us. 
 
 Another day we visited Mr. Markmann at his place when 
 he was celebrating his birthday. The callers were all business 
 men excepting myself, I being the only workman in the crowd, 
 but I had to be there as a good friend of my employer. During 
 the afternoon Mr. Markmann also had the pleasure of having an 
 Italian with an organ placed before the entrance to his saloon. 
 The rest of the crowd was inside. Mr. Markmann, to whom 
 the musician became obnoxious, treated him off and on, some- 
 times giving him 25 and even 50 cents, but the organ grinder 
 only laughed, thanked the donor for his present, but remained 
 steadfastly at his place although Mr. Markmann begged him 
 to leave. He had his orders. Then Mr. Markmann called 
 the police, but they were informed of the circumstances before 
 they reached the place and did not interfere. Finally the or- 
 ganist was called in and Mr. Markmann had to treat him and 
 the whole crowd — and the musician remained till midnight. 
 An Irish woman danced the cancan and other wild dances. 
 
 Another time I was working in Gerstaedter's saloon at the 
 corner of Webster and Clybourne avenues. There on the North- 
 
— 33 — 
 
 west Side lived an old citizen, Jacob Dieden, a real original 
 character. He had a Mexican pony and with this he travelled 
 around. The pony could drink just as much beer as his master. 
 They drank something like 12 glasses of beer per day. So 
 one day Mr. Dieden came with his pony into the saloon and 
 ordered 2 glasses of beer, one for himself and one for me as 
 he knew me. Gerstaedter wanted to drive him away, but I 
 advised him not to do so, whereupon I was treated to several 
 more glasses of beer. 
 
 A few days later, Dieden came again and told us that he 
 had sold his pony to a butcher living in the neighborhood. 
 He treated all most liberally and received $60.00 from the 
 buyer on delivery of the pony. Dieden had come in a small 
 buggy and I helped him to unhitch the pony. The butcher 
 wanted to drive away, but notwithstanding his repeated urging 
 "Get Up, Get Up,'' the pony went backward and finally broke 
 the shaft of the wagon. The butcher hollered that he had 
 been swindled, while Dieden claimed that the butcher did not 
 know how to drive. Finally he bought his pony back for 
 $50.00, again treated all most liberally and asked me to help 
 him hitch the pony to his own buggy. He already had a 
 little too much and so I helped him to get back on his seat and 
 put the lines in his hands. "Back Up, Back Up," he cried and 
 on went the pony. He had been taught so that he went backward 
 on the call of Get Up and forward on Back Up. 
 
 Dieden also was a member of the Aurora Turn-Verein 
 and was always ready for some trick or mischief. So on an 
 Easter Sunday morning he came to the Turn-Hall, where some 
 20 young Turners were assembled, who had plenty of thirst, 
 but very little money. Dieden invited us to go with him to 
 one of his houses where the saloonkeeper celebrated "Great 
 Opening'' with a delicate lunch. As soon as we arrived there, 
 Dieden treated us all. The landlady and the cook were called 
 from the kitchen and they had to drink with us. At the third 
 
— 34 — 
 
 round of treating, he said: *'l thought you had prepared such 
 a good lunch?" The women ran into the kitchen, but returned 
 at once all excited, because all the lunch had disappeared. Then 
 Mr. Dieden said : ''li you have no lunch, we will return to the 
 Turn-Hall, from where we came/' When we arrived there, we 
 found the lunch all there and Mr. Dieden treated us with a 
 barrel of beer and we all had a fine time. 
 
 I could tell a great many more things about him. For 
 instance, he had two tame deers, which he hitched to a sleigh 
 and in the middle of summer drove with them through town. 
 
 All the young Schleswig-Holstein people in our crowd were 
 very jolly and up to some mischief all the time. We very 
 often met with some family or another, at Shoemaker Luchs, 
 the Menzels, or some other family and had a good time. I 
 got a barrel of beer cheap in the Turn-Hall and the lady of the 
 house, where we were at the time, had to furnish the necessary 
 eats. Of all of them I am the only one surviving. 
 
 Times became worse and worse and in the middle of the 
 summer of 1874 I was unable to find much work. In July 
 of that year we had another big fire on the South Side. It 
 began a little ways north of 12th street, and spread to the north, 
 but only up to Jackson street. There several houses were 
 blown up. I helped the firemen to carry powder sacks into 
 the houses. Through the explosion the spread of the fire was 
 checked. 
 
 In September, 1874, the city enlarged its police force and 
 on recommendation of several friends I applied for a position 
 and was accepted on September 14th. On the evening of 
 September 15th I started as policeman at the old Madison 
 Street Station at the corner of Union street under command 
 of Capt. Ellis. 
 
 I saw and learned a great deal there, also learning to write 
 English, which so far I had been unable to do. There were sev- 
 eral Irish policemen who were not able to write at all. I learned 
 
— 35 — 
 
 it by copying the reports and I had my EngHsh dictionary with 
 me which my old Rector Hussmann had given me on our 
 departure from Neumuenster. Thus I acquired the art of 
 writing EngHsh and after about a year I was able to make a 
 rather passable report so that I was in a position to help out 
 my good Irish colleagues. 
 
 Then I was transferred to the Cottage Grove Avenue 
 Station, which I did not like very well, because everything 
 was too quiet there. At my request I was transferred to the 
 12th Street Station (Corner Johnson street) where in the first 
 month I got the opportunity to show my ability. Some of our 
 Schleswig-Holsteiners and my brother and I had been invited 
 to a party at the home of a mutual friend one Saturday evening. 
 About 5 o'clock the next morning on our way to take the girls 
 home, I saw a young man on the other side of Halsted street, 
 dragging a heavy bag, and on examination, I found the bag 
 to be full of new shoes and boots. I took the fellow to the 
 station, the whole crowd accompanying me, where the com- 
 manding officer, O'Donnell, still up and awake, asked me where 
 I had been. He then invited the whole crowd into the station 
 and showed the girls all over the place, and sent me home to 
 sleep. 
 
 The next day, another countryman of ours, Mr. Penshorn, 
 who conducted a grocery and saloon at the corner of Halsted 
 and 18th streets, celebrated his birthday. I helped to celebrate 
 in the afternoon when some acquaintances came in and said 
 that they already had heard of my capturing the thief, and 
 added that the associates of the fellow had gone out to fish in 
 Mud Lake, a large pond near Archer avenue. As these boys were 
 all between 16 and 20 years of age, I asked Mr. Penshorn 
 to let me have a civil coat and his horse and wagon. The 
 other two young men also went along and we caught the four 
 boys and brought them to the station and as it happened, Simon 
 O'Donnell was there also. 
 
— 36 — 
 
 The affair helped me a great deal in the eyes of my sergeant. 
 I became known as a good thief-catcher, also that I chased 
 away the corner loafers. That was in December, 1875. 
 
 A short time before, on September 23rd, my father had 
 suddenly passed away, his death being caused by a rupture, 
 and we buried him in Waldheim Cemetery, where at that time 
 we paid $15.00 for a burial lot. Four years later when my 
 brother Johannes, after a short illness, passed away, we bought 
 another lot next to the first one where my father was resting 
 and had to pay $35.00 for it. What is the price for these lots 
 now? 
 
 When I was stationed on 12th street, I heard of a wild 
 joke that had been committed by a jokester. Namely in the 
 great church, built in 1869, the baptismal font had been emptied 
 and filled with ink and it took quite some time before it was 
 discovered. The jokester, however, was never discovered. 
 
 During my service there I got acquainted with quite a num- 
 ber of well-known business men. Among them was Mr. 
 Phillipp Maas, with whom I became well acquainted. We met 
 in Lessing Lodges No. 551, A. F. & A. M., into which I was 
 introduced by Mr. Heinemann. There I also got acquainted 
 with Mr. M. Keil, who had a jewelry store and was a watch- 
 maker besides. There were many men to whom a close friend- 
 ship bound me in later years. 
 
 To come back to my activity as a policeman, I one day 
 caught a young degenerated fellow of noble birth, whose 
 father was a good friend of Father Damen of the Jesuit 
 Church and whose name he had forged on several checks. 
 That not only pleased Simon O'Donnell but also Father Damen. 
 
 The district in which I worked had a very bad name and 
 many a night a shot came so closely behind our backs that one 
 could hear the bullets whiz by, but the stalking criminal was 
 invisible. Once I arrested an election falsifier who had voted 
 in several places but had not recognized me as a policeman. 
 
— 37 — 
 
 The first winter I was on duty at the Madison Street 
 Police Station was a real hard one and most of the time we 
 had zero weather. The poor fellows who had no money to 
 pay for a night's lodging sought shelter in hay stacks, in stables, 
 among rags and other such places, from where we brought 
 them in. One night some people called me to an old frame 
 building on Lake street, where a man lay nearly frozen to 
 death in the front hall. He had one arm only and died the 
 next morning. 
 
 One night, the watchman of a factory informed me that 
 some bums had taken shelter in a heap of refuse. We brought 
 them in from there. During another night we searched an old 
 stable, which was full of straw and hay for horses. I climbed 
 upstairs and fell through a hole on two fellows who had hidden 
 themselves in the hay. But we took out four more, six all 
 told, and all would have been frozen more or less if we had 
 left them there. These stables were all in my district or on my 
 "beat,'' as it was called. 
 
 During my stay at the 12th Street Station I had quite a 
 number of adventures. In the summer of 1876 about 2 o'clock 
 in the morning we met a man who told us his wife had run 
 away from his home and now could be found in a room 
 at the corner of 14th and Halsted streets with some man. 
 We went there and he showed us the room, which was locked. 
 As the people in that room seemed to be sound asleep, I 
 climbed up the air shaft and got into the room. After I had 
 lighted a light, I woke up the man and woman and the man 
 who had led us there declared the woman to be his wife. Both 
 of them were locked up and the next morning Judge David 
 Scully fined them both $50.00 and costs, which meant 103 
 days for the woman as she had no money to pay the fine. 
 
 During the election the same fall I was included in the 
 flying column so as to be quickly sent wherever it was neces- 
 sary, for we had neither telephones nor patrol wagons at that 
 
— 38 — 
 
 time. Thus we were called to 19th and Morgan streets. Most 
 of the people living there were Bohemians. There was one 
 policeman stationed there, Samonski by name, who spoke 
 several languages, including Bohemian. He got among the 
 people there and tried to keep them in order, but did not suc- 
 ceed and had to take refuge in a stable, while his colleague 
 went to get assistance. When we got there the sidewalks 
 and street were crowded with people. We cleared the side- 
 walks and threw the people into the gutters along the street, 
 which were full of water. At that time these streets were not 
 yet paved. They allowed us to do this, for they wanted to 
 get rid of Samonski. I was left there. The ones who had 
 taken an involuntary bath went to their homes to get on 
 dry clothing, and what they told me in Bohemian, I could 
 not understand, but order reigned. I really had very 
 little to do to keep order and everything seemed to be fine and 
 everybody happy until the next morning when the counting of 
 the votes had been finished. Then some men and also a police- 
 man came in to correct the count, but one of the judges did 
 not want to allow it, neither did I. The next day I reported 
 the policeman, but I never heard anything further about the 
 case, although even Simon O'Donnell strongly condemned the 
 practice. There I also got acquainted with the better class 
 of Bohemian people and in consequence I was always re- 
 quested to attend their social functions, such as balls and con- 
 certs, to act as guard there. 
 
 During the spring of 1877 in the northerly part of the dis- 
 trict we were very often shot at when on patrol duty, especially 
 when Simon O'Donnell was along. That most frequently 
 happened in the neighborhood of Taylor and Polk streets. On 
 one occasion, O'Donnell asked me: ''August, for whom were 
 these bullets intended, you or me?" I answered, "Most likely 
 for both of us." I had much to do there with men who beat 
 their wives. Once Judge Scully told me : *'If that fellow licks 
 
— 39 — 
 
 his wife once more and you have not given him a good lesson 
 before you bring him to the station, I shall punish you instead !'' 
 That was good advice at least in this case. I hammered the 
 fellow unmercifully that time because he had an ax with which 
 he was waiting for me. His wife and children were outside 
 in the cold, but I had no fear of him. 
 
 During May and June, 1876, the workmen in the lumber 
 yards became rebellious and they were perfectly justified, for 
 they earned but 75 to 90 cents per day. Two policemen 
 had to guard a district for these two months, namely, south- 
 ward from 16th and Center street, which is looked after now 
 by an entire police station. So one evening we were at 16th 
 and Halsted streets, when we heard a terrible hollering for 
 help, murder and the like. We rushed on in the direction 
 from which the cries came and on 22nd street, near Canalport, 
 we found a woman with her 5 children on the street, while her 
 husband, thoroughly soused, was in the house and threatened 
 to kill anybody, who tried to come near him. I rushed 
 upstairs, while my comrade called to me to watch out 
 for myself — but I answered him to look where the ax would 
 fly to. The fellow lifted his arm to brain me with his ax, but 
 I bent down while I rushed at him, and the handle struck me on 
 the shoulder, while the ax flew from the handle. Again it was 
 an Irishman. I took him by the collar and he lifted his hands 
 over his head. But I gave him a few hard blows on his 
 shins. He hollered and when we had him on the street, both 
 of us played our billies on his shinbones. He danced all 
 possible jigs and supplicated Mother Maria to help him. Finally, 
 after we thought that he had enough of a lesson, I told him 
 that under the following conditions we would have pity on 
 him, namely, that first : he must turn over all . his money — he 
 still had a few dollars — to his wife, then we would call every 
 evening at 8 o'clock and his wife had to report to us whether 
 he had been sober and good. Then on Saturday evening he 
 
— 40 — 
 
 must give me^ all his wages, which we would turn over to his 
 wife. He was satisfied with the agreement and he kept it, too, 
 during the two months that we were there. Thus we acted 
 as police and justice at the same time. 
 
 The neighborhood of Halsted and 16th streets was in bad 
 repute, but an Irishman, by the name of Touhy, and I chased 
 away the Irish loafers. These fellows were so impertinent that 
 they told me I had no right on the other side of the street. 
 Now, we both showed our right to them by at once arresting 
 four of them and when they did not wish to go along peace- 
 ably, we knocked their heads together until they were ready to 
 go with us. The following morning they were fined $5.00 and 
 costs — and the result was that the corner became free of these 
 loafers. They retired to the prairie west of Halsted street, 
 where so far very few buildings had been erected. But we 
 did not let them have any rest there either. I was a good runner 
 and caught one or two at a time, who were fined, mostly with 
 a money fine. But as they had no money, it meant 13 days in 
 the workhouse for them. 
 
 One evening during the last year of my stay at the 12th 
 Street Station I had a fight with a saloonkeeper, against whom 
 a neighbor had gotten out a warrant for his arrest. When I 
 read the warrant to him, he took a butcher knife and tried to 
 knock me down with it. As I jumped aside and drew my 
 revolver, he ran out of a back door into the alley, where I 
 caught up with him and put on the chain. The fellow was very 
 strong and with one jerk he broke the steel chain. However, 
 I forced him to march in front of me to the station. The fine 
 for the lawless act for which his neighbor had taken out a 
 warrant amounted to $5.00 and costs, but for his resistance 
 against me he had to pay $15.00 extra. 
 
 Three policemen, Touhy, Cummings and myself, all of us 
 over six feet tall, received a special assignment one evening. 
 Every Sunday night a number of people came over from 
 
— 41 — 
 
 Bridgeport and held a dance in the basement at the corner of 
 Canalport avenue and Jefferson street, and when they went 
 home in the morning, committed all kinds of mischief, in gen- 
 eral, broke windows, etc. Our order was not to arrest them, 
 but to treat them so that they would prefer not to come back 
 for further treatment. So one morning about 5 o'clock, when 
 the dance broke up, we took our places at the entrances, that is, 
 Cummings and I in front, Touhy at the rear door. Now, when 
 one or several men came out, we let our billies play around 
 their shinbones, which causes severe pain, and when they ran 
 to the rear door, Touhy treated them likewise. Finally we had 
 the hall empty and pursued the band to the Halsted Street Bridge, 
 where we hit them around the shoulders with our billies, which 
 is not very pleasant and can be felt for several weeks. They 
 yelled so that it could be heard in Bridgeport, but they never 
 returned to have a dance at Canalport avenue and Jefferson 
 street. 
 
 Shortly after, my friend Simon O'Donnell, was promoted 
 to Captain at the Harrison Street Station and he took six of 
 his own men including me along with him. After I got there, 
 my wish was that I might serve in the main part of the city 
 so as to be in closer contact with many of my friends and 
 other important citizens. In fact, there I really lived the 
 happiest part of my life. Many a thief I caught, sometimes 
 in the act. One evening a street robber held up a man and 
 took his watch away from him. I heard the cries for help 
 and caught the fellow not ten feet away from his victim. He 
 had two revolvers in his possession, one of which I snatched 
 away from him, but had to fight very hard for the other one. 
 I pummelled him severely in such a manner that a cab driver 
 tried to interfere. After I had the second revolver in my 
 hands, I hit the cab driver so hard in the face — he should have 
 helped me instead of siding with the holdupman — ^that he 
 spit out four of his front teeth. I had broken his upper jaw 
 
— 42 — 
 
 with one blow. I let him go so that he could hunt up a physician. 
 An intelligent jury four months later exonerated the man of 
 all blame of an intended holdup — and we all were surprised — 
 judge, state's attorney — and the bandit himself. 
 
 About five or six years ago I met the attorney who had 
 defended the man. He came from the Stockyard's district as 
 did the fellow also. He asked me if I still remembered the case, 
 and on my affirmation that I did told me further that the young 
 man had reformed and had not tried a further life of crime, 
 but had worked in the Stockyards, got married and raised a 
 family. That was about 40 years after the incident. The 
 attorney said, it was not the four months in the prison cell 
 that cured him, he had been there before, but the drubbing he 
 got from me and which he had well deserved in the fight for 
 the possession of the second revolver had taught him a lesson. 
 I told the attorney, who repeated the story to me several times, 
 that if he should see the man again he should tell him that 
 under the conditions I was well satisfied, but that the verdict 
 of the jury that gave him his freedom at the time had been a 
 travesty on justice. 
 
 While serving at that Station I became acquainted with the 
 Pomy family on a boat excursion. We were the only ones 
 who could sing in German and dance the German dances. This 
 was where I first danced with Mrs. Pomy, the walz, gallop 
 and schottische and all the rest of our good German dances. That 
 day was an important one in my life. Mr. Pomy had a saloon 
 at the corner of Lake and Wells street. One day he received 
 a load of good California wine, but the barrels were so big 
 that he could not get them into his basement. When I saw 
 the predicament, I took off my coat and brought them down- 
 stairs. Mr. Pomy was surprised at my strength and our friend- 
 ship, especially as I was a member of Lessing Lodge, was con- 
 firmed. 
 
 The district where I did patrol duty had a great number 
 
— 43 — 
 
 of lodge halls. One Saturday evening at the corner of 
 Randolph and Dearborn streets I saw a number of ladies 
 and two men. The ladies were being molested by the men 
 who on that evening had gone out for some fun. I hurried 
 across the street and chased the men away. Two weeks later 
 I saw a similar group of ladies and men at that corner, with 
 exception that the ladies were being assaulted by two fel- 
 lows, who wanted to drag them along. I hurried across the 
 street and took one of them by the collar, gave him a few nice 
 blows on his head, and threw him bleeding into the middle of 
 the street. The second one continued to hold one of the ladies, 
 so I treated him even worse than the first one and he landed 
 in a mass, in the middle of the street. Some of the women 
 cried : '*Oh, how cruel !", but the other men folks present said 
 that they had received just what was coming to them. I then 
 asked the people what society they belonged to and they an- 
 swered **The Order of the Eastern Star''. At that time I did 
 not know that it was a branch of the Order of Free Masonry, 
 but the men explained it to me and with hand grips we acknowl- 
 edged the society. Four weeks after that my sister and I also 
 joined that order. Naturally after that the people were not 
 molested by affairs of that kind and especially by young men 
 who went out on Saturday evenings for such adventures. How- 
 ever, I believe I was somewhat different from other policemen 
 as I did not treat such fellows very leniently. 
 
 At that time, business was very bad. In fact, the times 
 were hard and the hotels especially felt it badly. Generally 
 on Saturday evenings some business men from State street 
 rented a room in some hotel where they played poker. We 
 had raided the regular gambling houses, also the Chinese who 
 carried on the gambling business. So early one Sunday morn- 
 ing a man who had a store on State street came to me and 
 demanded that I should raid a gambling hell, as he called it, 
 where he had lost all the money he had with him, also his 
 
— 44 — 
 
 gold watch and chain. I demanded to know the particulars 
 about it and found thereby that the owner of the hotel had 
 nothing to do with the affair. I told the man that he must 
 take out a warrant before I could do anything. He then began 
 to threaten me, whereupon I sent him whirling into the fresh 
 air. We were in the lobby of the hotel and the next morning 
 I told the proprietor, Wilcox by name, what I had done 
 and I told the story also to my Captain, who approved my action ; 
 however, I did not tell this to the proprietor, but advised 
 him to tell the friends of that fellow to return his gold watch 
 and chain, but not the money. I would do the rest if 
 he should show up again. Judge Summerfield refused him 
 a warrant because the hotel was no regular gambling house 
 and only a few friends met there to enjoy a social game. A 
 few weeks later the same fellow showed up and wanted to 
 join his friends. The employees refused him admittance and 
 held him until I came and not very gently I conveyed him into 
 the street and the fresh winter air. 
 
 The headquarters of the musicians was at the corner of 
 Randolph and Clark streets in the basement of a saloon, which 
 was conducted by an old musician by the name of Sehnert. 
 One evening in the early spring, quite a number of the leaders 
 of the St. Michael's Catholic Church were there, talking about 
 the misfortune that had befallen the church and Christendom by 
 the death of the Pope at that time and who might be the next 
 Pope. One of the faithful asked Mr. Sehnert whom he thought 
 might be, and he, trying to cut in with a joke, said : "Now, who 
 else than his son!'' That answer caused an uproar among those 
 present, so that they drove Mr. Sehnert out of his own place. He 
 ran into the street and met me and told me his story. His place 
 was not on my beat, but on that of a colleague who was even 
 taller than I, namely 6 feet 3}^ inches. His name was Thomas 
 Noonan, and he had served in the United States Army and was 
 one of the soldiers who had taken vengeance on the Indians for 
 
— 45 — 
 
 the death of General Custer, and when his enHstment ran out, 
 he had accepted a place on the Chicago police force. I told the 
 story to him and he, knowing Mr. Sehnert very well, laughed 
 and said that he would see what we could do. Right opposite 
 me was Policeman Donohue, who had served in the Papal Guard 
 for two years and who was nicknamed by us "Florie the Pope." 
 It took us more than an hour to quiet down the people and we 
 had taken more than a dozen glasses of beer with them, when 
 Donohue, who had seen us go down with Mr. Sehnert about an 
 hour before, came down the stairs to see what was the matter 
 and whether we were still in the place. He could see us from 
 upstairs, but when he came down, I said, ''Now, the Pope him- 
 self is coming." Again pandemonium broke loose and it took 
 us more than an hour and a half before order was restored and 
 we could go, leaving Mr. Sehnert in his place. We three usually 
 did not belong to those who made or accepted much nonsense, 
 but words were more appropriate than the fist or the billie against 
 such foolishness. 
 
 Long John Wentworth, at one time mayor of the City of Chi- 
 cago, was living at the Sherman House at that time with his 
 unmarried daughter, who was as tall as I was. Long John, as 
 he was called in short, was taller than Noonan. When he got 
 thirsty, he hunted up one of us three, took us to the bar-room of 
 the Sherman House and we had to take one or two drinks of 
 whiskey with him. More he did not permit. That was the cele- 
 brated Long John, who at his time governed the city with an 
 iron fist and he told us that if at that time one of his policemen 
 drank too much, he was discharged without ado. To us he said 
 we were the right men as we tried to keep order and did 
 not drink too much. As it seems he had observed us for some 
 time before he allowed us to make his acquaintance. 
 
 Many things happened during that time. For instance, the 
 city had no money to have the streets cleaned and the people 
 who had stores on the diflferent streets had to see to the cleaning 
 
— 46 — 
 
 themselves. One evening I met one of the contractors who was 
 doing the cleaning for these business men. He was rather liberal 
 and told me confidentially that as soon as he had received his 
 money he would skip out. He thought I was his friend, but he 
 was mistaken. Next day I told the story to Mr. Wilcox, who had 
 engaged him and who would have had to meet the greatest part 
 of the loss as the workmen would have to be paid. The conse- 
 quence was that the workmen received their money, for which 
 they thanked me; the contractor himself received very little, and 
 I told him I would arrest him if he showed up again. Of course 
 Mr. Wilcox and the other business men thanked me for my 
 interference. 
 
 One night I saw a man coming out of a store on State 
 street, and if he had not shown a bad conscience, I would not 
 have thought anything about it, but as he ran away when he saw 
 me, I ran after him, firing my revolver, and as I was too far away 
 from him, I hit him in the calf of the leg. The bullet bored 
 through and rested in the knee cap, so that he could not run 
 any further, and he begged for mercy. As it was after midnight 
 with no wagon or carriage near, one of the firemen of the fire- 
 house near there helped me to carry the thief to the station. 
 
 About spring time, another man from the station and I were 
 transferred to the levee district where all the genteel and fair 
 damsels offered their wares for sale. That district had, so far, 
 been terribly neglected by the married policemen stationed there. 
 Our dear Captain O'Donnell gave us a great curtain lecture and 
 finished with the words: Now he would send two unmarried 
 policemen into that district. One of them was me and the other 
 a Pennsylvania Dutchman by the name of Race, who a few 
 months later was killed by a thief in front of a pawnbroker's 
 place. The Captain gave me his instructions in minute detail 
 and admonished me for two hours, during which he walked with 
 me and showed me everything, and asked more than a dozen 
 times that I would promise him to remain honest and straight 
 
— 47 — 
 
 and not accept any presents of money. Today I can understand 
 this much better than at that time, and I have kept my promise. 
 On one occasion $200.00 was offered me, but I did not take it, 
 and I always told my Captain of any offers that had been made 
 me. Hardly had he left me, when one of the damsels — I will 
 call her thus — who was the owner of one of the sporting houses, 
 offered to make me a present of 200 cigars. I did not take them 
 and when she became disagreeable on account of my refusal, 
 I arrested her. The offer of the cigars cost her $5.00 and costs 
 in court the next morning. 
 
 The so-called moral Daily News printed some remarks next 
 day about the moral policeman, August Lueders. Such a thing 
 had not occurred before. A few months later I nearly killed 
 one of their reporters. He had made some remarks about my 
 mother, for which I felled him with a blow of my fist and 
 belabored him with my boots until he laid there like dead and I 
 threw him over my shoulder and carried him to the station. 
 However, he came back to life again, and next morning a really 
 fine looking woman with a little child came to me and begged 
 me fervently not to tell the judge what her rascal of a husband 
 had said about my mother. I promised, but when we came be- 
 fore the judge and he saw the condition of the fellow he in- 
 sisted on knowing the details. I told him that I had promised 
 his wife not to repeat the facts to him, and he then fined 
 the man $2.00 and costs, but insisted that I tell him what had 
 been said. I whispered it into his ear, whereupon the judge 
 became so excited that he thought he should fine him $50.00 
 and costs. However, he did not do so, but gave him a good 
 lecture, one that he surely did not forget during his whole 
 lifetime. 
 
 That was only the beginning of my experiences in that district. 
 Towards morning one night during the spring, I walked in a 
 northerly direction in Victoria alley, where the Elevated now 
 is and there I saw a negro climbing out of a window of one 
 
— 48 — 
 
 of the better sporting houses with two bundles of clothing. 
 I surmised that the negro would walk to the south, which he did. 
 I was standing behind a large telegraph pole and he stopped 
 right beside me. I pointed my revolver at his face, took away 
 his own weapon, and then he had to take up the two bundles 
 and march with me to the station, while I held my revolver right 
 behind his ear. That negro had taken all the silk and good 
 dresses and skirts of the damsels and next morning they all 
 appeared dressed up in calico, about which the Daily News at 
 that time poked fun. The negro spent two years in the peniten- 
 tiary as punishment. 
 
 One night not long after that, I had just brought a law breaker 
 to the station, when I saw someone coming out of a house 
 on 4th avenue, north of Harrison street. It was almost 3 
 A. M. When he saw me, he quickly walked northward. And 
 when I followed him, I saw another man come out who withdrew 
 quickly. I found him behind the door with two large bundles 
 of clothing, which he said did not belong to him. Then when I 
 aroused the people who lived in the house — I had chained the 
 fellow to me and also taken his revolver — it was found that the 
 clothes did not belong to him, but to the people living upstairs. 
 He did not want to name his companion. He also got two years 
 in the penitentiary. 
 
 A saloonkeeper in that neighborhood wanted to start a fight 
 with me one Sunday morning. He soon found himself lodged 
 in the station and next morning he begged me to forgive him. 
 I did not make it as bad before the judge as it had been and he 
 came off with a fine of $5.00 and costs. His name was Whelan ; 
 he later became alderman of the ward and one of my best 
 friends. 
 
 I got along well with the girls, not in the manner in which 
 they wished but according to police regulations and my own 
 rules. And I did not permit them to keep a male protector, 
 either. I always persecuted these rascals and pummeled them 
 
— 49 — 
 
 severely whenever I could catch them, and then sent them to the 
 workhouse that they might learn a trade, or work in some way. 
 I told the girls if they did take these men back, I would arrest 
 both and send each to the workhouse. And when the girls found 
 I was in earnest about it they were thankful and betrayed the 
 rascals who had lorded it over them, and who usually had some 
 dirt to hide, resulting in my catching more thieves than any of 
 the so-called detectives. 
 
 In my district very few crimes were committed except on 
 Saturday evenings. Then it sometimes became a real carnival. 
 On one such evening, I had come from the Station when I heard 
 a tumult at the corner of Harrison and State streets. A fellow 
 came running around the corner whom I caught. Then a woman 
 came running right after him, crying that he had stolen her 
 purse. I chained and searched him, but found nothing. When 
 we wanted to go to the station, again turmoil and another fellow 
 came running around the corner. I grabbed him. The same 
 story, but he still had the purse in his possession, which I had 
 one of the bystanders put into my pocket. When this fellow 
 saw that I had the other one chained to me, he wanted to break 
 away. But I took him by the neck and rubbed his face on the 
 wall of the nearest house so that he cried out loud and was then 
 willing to go along peacefully. On Monday morning the judge 
 asked me how it came about that the fellow had such a damaged 
 face. When I told him how it had happened, he laughed and 
 said to the thief that he had met the wrong policeman. During 
 that night I brought in 16 prisoners, of which 9 were petty 
 thievery cases. The theft was always small, but as far as I can 
 remember, not a single man ever had brought in so many 
 prisoners alone. 
 
 In 1877 we had a riot of considerable importance when the 
 railroad men went on strike. It began in the East and the move- 
 ment extended to us. Soldiers were sent here from the West 
 and one time it became rather serious here in our district. Once 
 
— 50 — 
 
 we dispersed something like 2000 strikers on South Water street 
 and Michigan avenue. We were 24 regular and 6 special police- 
 men and we had to wage our fight hand to hand. One of our 
 lieutenants, Wiley, was struck by a stone and fell. We attacked 
 in close rank and used our billies very well so that we were able 
 to disperse the crowd, and in the evening my comrades noticed 
 that my coat, vest, shirt and undershirt had been cut through, 
 but I did not have a mark on my body. If somebody wants to 
 talk of luck ! A few days later we had another hot fight with 
 these fellows at State and 17th streets. They had attacked the 
 street cars and held up the conductors. There we arrested 
 quite a few, many more than at Michigan avenue. Unfortu- 
 nately, none of them could be identified as the attackers of the 
 street car men, but all of them were fined $50.00 and costs. 
 
 Then the Vorwaerts Turn-Hall was stormed for no reason 
 at all by the notorious Captain Bonfield, and my Capt. Simon 
 O'Donnell said: *'We would not have stormed that hall." 
 
 At this time, at the Harrison Street Station, I was put in 
 charge of a small flying column of 10 regulars and 6 special 
 policemen and we were on the go continuously, especially through 
 the doings of a reporter of the Daily News, who saw strikers 
 and revolutionists everywhere; and once at the Van Buren 
 street bridge, where a number of workmen were peacefully eat- 
 ing their lunch. We then told the reporter that if he called us 
 out once more by a false alarm we would give him a good 
 thrashing. About two months later he received his dues good 
 and plenty. The fact was this : After everything else was over, 
 every Saturday afternoon the Socialists held a meeting on 
 Market street near Washington, where their newspaper was 
 published. My partner Noonan and I were sent there to listen 
 to the revolutionary speeches if any were delivered and report 
 about them. I never heard any speeches of that kind there. 
 One Saturday afternoon one of the Socialists, who was well 
 known to us, came to me and asked me how it could be arranged 
 
— 51 — 
 
 to give a good beating to a reporter who made a nuisance of 
 himself. I introduced him to Noonan and told him who the 
 man was. We then conceived the following plan: He was to 
 invite us all to a saloon at Randolph and Market streets and 
 treat us there; we would also take along the four detectives. 
 Then when Noonan informed the policemen that one of my 
 friends was going to treat us, all were satisfied, especially as it 
 was 4 o'clock already and we had been at the station since 1 :30, 
 where we could not even get a glass of water. When my friend 
 was ready, it did not take very long for all to march to a saloon 
 at the northwest corner of Madison and Market streets, in a 
 basement. While we were quaffing the third glass of beer, 
 someone came running in and said that trouble was going on in 
 the neighborhood. When we got there, just one person had re- 
 ceived a good beating, and that was the reporter and he was not 
 able to identify a single person who had hit him. 
 
 Nobody but Noonan and myself had any idea of the real facts. 
 The next Monday noon we were called before Capt. O'Donnell 
 and he asked us what had happened and why no report had been 
 turned in. The Daily News had printed about a whole column, 
 but not one of the other newspapers had mentioned it. Then 
 Noonan said that after we had stayed around in the sun-heat for 
 fully three hours, a friend of mine came and invited us to a 
 treat and as we had been very thirsty, all had gone along. The 
 Captain thought that some of us should not have gone, but 
 Noonan and I said that the speech had been so tame and those 
 present in the summer heat did not seem to be up to anything, so 
 we thought nothing about accepting the invitation and probably 
 the fellow had said too much again and had received a good lick- 
 ing from some of the people present. However, we had not been 
 able to find anybody who had licked him. That he had received 
 enough was evidenced by the condition of his face. Then O'- 
 Donnell asked me who my friend who had proven himself so 
 liberal was, and when I told him — ^John Gloy — whom he also 
 
— 52 — 
 
 knew and esteemed highly, he looked at us from head to foot, 
 but said nothing. However he may have thought his share. And 
 he surely did not begrudge the reporter his beating. But after 
 that affair we always were sent to the meetings until the cold 
 weather set in and the meetings ceased. The reporter never 
 showed up again. 
 
 One day, when I was in court, which happened most every day, 
 an Irish policeman had two young Germans before the judge, 
 who said in German that they had done nothing. I felt sorry for 
 them and asked the judge if he would allow me to act as their 
 interpreter, which he did. It came out that they had just arrived 
 at a railroad station, where an expressman started with them to 
 their friends. Arriving near the place, the expressman asked 
 $5.00 for the trip and as they could not pay, he had them arrested 
 by the Irish policeman. When the young Germans told me where 
 their friends were living, it became evident that the expressman 
 had no right to ask more than 50 cents a person, or $1.00 for both. 
 Now he received no money but a good calling down from the 
 judge. The policeman then upbraided me and told me that I 
 should not have mixed in that affair. However, Capt. 0*Donnell, 
 who stood behind me and which I did not know, told the police- 
 man that if another such arrest was made he would report him, 
 and that I should take hold of such affairs where I thought it 
 justifiable. 
 
 At that time the regular immigrant trains arrived every Satur- 
 day night from the East at the Rock Island depot. The im- 
 migrants were not brought directly to the depot proper, but to 
 a shed on Clark, south of Polk street, where the trains were 
 emptied. From there quite a number of complaints about unjust 
 charges were made and after the above mentioned affair I was 
 sent there every Saturday night, when the immigrants arrived, to 
 look after things and keep order. 
 
 I just wish to bring out how penurious the expressmen and cab 
 drivers were, and on every such night I caught any of them, 
 
— 53 — 
 
 I gave them a good licking and sent them away. I did not have 
 a single immigrant get away before I had told him how much he 
 would have to pay. After such a night, when I had punished 
 quite a few of the cab drivers and expressmen, they came to the 
 chief of police with the marks still on their faces and complained 
 bitterly about me. The chief asked O'Donnell to investigate the 
 matter. Of course, he did and I explained that these fellows 
 undoubtedly would have liked me to have one of them arrested. 
 That would have taken an hour and a half before I could have 
 been back to the depot, during which time nobody would have 
 interfered and they would be able to rob the immigrants right and 
 left. He said that he would report this to the Chief of Police and 
 about a week later he told me that the Chief had instructed him 
 to tell me that I should continue to act as I had been doing. I 
 went to that place until the railroads had built a house at the 
 corner of Canal and Jackson, where the immigrants were brought 
 so that advantage could not be taken of them by these robbers. 
 
 However, this kind of robber has not yet disappeared, for in 
 1880 it happened to me in Milwaukee, when such a fellow wanted 
 to fleece me out of $5.00 of which he was entitled to but $2.00. 
 He became unpleasant, and I did also, only much more and let my 
 fist go. A policeman there came on the scene and he also tasted 
 the hardness of my fist. Both were bleeding and the policeman 
 wanted to arrest me, but when I identified myself as belonging 
 to the Chicago police force, he calmed down and asked us, there 
 were four of us, whether we were willing to pay the $2.00. Of 
 course we did and the two went into the railroad station and 
 washed ofif the blood. Ten years after that I had the same ex- 
 perience in New Orleans. At that time the driver also demanded 
 $5.00 while he was entitled to but $2.00. I applied a few blows 
 to his head and a station policeman came up, to whom I declared 
 that we were from Chicago and that we would not allow this 
 advantage taken of us by such a fellow. That ended the contro- 
 versy. The same thing happened to Count von Luckner when he 
 
— 54 — 
 
 arrived here a short time ago. A taxi-driver demanded a much 
 higher fare than he was entitled to. But instead of paying 
 the same, the Count with his iron fist took him by the arm 
 and demanded that he go with him to the poHce station. The 
 driver, however, did not care to do that as he would have been 
 arrested, tore himself away and ran off without collecting his 
 fare. I have told these incidents to show how the immigrants 
 were treated here on their arrival, the Germans especially, and 
 that my superior officers were well satisfied with the way in 
 which I handled such things. 
 
 The district, where I had my beat, from Van Buren to Taylor 
 streets, was called the red district. The saloons with few ex- 
 ceptions could keep open the whole night. In my district I 
 had two pleasure gardens or groves, where sometimes, especial- 
 ly on Saturday evenings, things became very lively. One eve- 
 ning a drunken woman jumped on a table and fired a revolver. 
 My two lieutenants could not get through the crowd, but I forced 
 my way in, protected in the rear by two detectives with drawn 
 revolvers. When I reached the table, the woman threw the 
 revolver into the crowd and we were unable to find it. By 
 her hair I drew her from the table, pulled her out of doors 
 and to the station. On Monday morning she was fined $25.00 
 and costs and of course conducted herself in an entirely different 
 manner after she became sober. 
 
 In that district were also two gambling hells which could 
 exist because they were not molested if they did not use any 
 hang-outs. But they did and in order to catch them, an alder- 
 man, also a member of Lessing Lodge, helped me. He came 
 from the 14th ward. He could dress up in such a way, without 
 changing his clothes, that he looked like a green farmer. The 
 pullers got hold of him and I met them just at the right time. 
 The alderman I chased away with a few rough sounding words, 
 while I arrested the pullers. My friend acted several times for 
 me that way and the pullers did not pull any more. I told them 
 
— 55 — 
 
 that I would arrest them whenever I saw them on the street, 
 even if they had not caught on to an intended victim. 
 
 One Sunday night I came to the corner of State and Harrison 
 streets, when the loafers there told me that behind a saloon on 
 that corner a farmer had been robbed. That saloon was no hold- 
 up place, and the proprietor was a good man by the name of 
 Lomax. The farmer soon came back from the station, where 
 he had reported and he had been instructed to find me. He told 
 me the old story of how he got acquainted with a nice man at 
 the Stockyards, who promised to show him the town and who 
 finally had enticed him into the dark back hall and robbed him. 
 He had taken his gold watch and chain and a little money, 
 not everything. I asked him where he was rooming and how 
 long he intended to stay in Chicago. He replied that he intended 
 to stay until he sold his cattle, whereupon I advised him to 
 keep away and not be seen in the neighborhood, but to give 
 me his address. In the evening the proprietor and I made ar- 
 rangements to catch the robber, for we were sure that he would 
 return when he thought the air clear. The barkeeper knew the 
 fellow and it was agreed that if I should be there when the man 
 came in that the barkeeper should offer a treat, place a glass in 
 front of the robber and exchange it for a glass of beer if he did 
 not wish to drink any whiskey. On the fourth night, about 
 morning, I heard the invitation of the barkeeper and carefully 
 took note of the man before whom he set the glass. He said, he 
 did not want any whiskey, he wanted beer. Of course I was 
 also invited and after the fourth glass I arrested the fellow, 
 chained him and conducted him through the same dark back hall, 
 when I noticed that he wanted to get rid of something. I had 
 not told him what I arrested him for, but curious enough he 
 wanted to get rid of the watch and chain he had taken from the 
 farmer. The little afifair brought him a reward of two years in 
 the penitentiary. 
 
 The following winter about the Sylvester time two bandits 
 
— 56 — 
 
 had created a night of terror with robbery, shooting and all 
 possible misdeeds in that neighborhood. One of them was ar- 
 rested the next morning not far from the place of their activity. 
 His name was Crowe. The other's name was Bob Young. Five 
 from our Station were sent there in civilian clothes and were 
 outside from nine in the evening to five in the morning, and it 
 was rather cold. In ten nights we cleared the district of the 
 rascals, especially those who made it their business to break into 
 the houses from the rear, so that not a single ruffian could be 
 found. Everything was nice and clear. However, two months 
 later, a number of detectives were sent into my district, who 
 did not state for whom they were looking. One early miorning, 
 shortly after 7 o'clock, I was in a saloon enjoying a cup of 
 coffee and rolls, when a fellow walked right through the place 
 from the rear, and when he saw me, walked out again. After 
 he was gone the saloonkeeper whispered to me that under all 
 circumstances we ought to get that fellow. I went to the door 
 and saw him enter another saloon which had two entrances, one 
 at Peck court and the main entrance on State street, but just 
 opposite the one where he had been. I now figured that if I 
 alone went after him, he might have a chance to escape. 
 Then I saw a street car passing and my friend Flori the Pope 
 Donahue was standing on the platform. He also was one of the 
 men who did not like to let a felon escape. I called him to come 
 down and explained to him that a good catch was in the saloon, 
 that he should enter it from the rear and not let anyone pass, 
 and he would have to act quickly. When I entered, the fellow 
 sat next to the stove. I took him by the arm and searched him, 
 but he had no revolver with him. Notwithstanding I chained 
 him to me — and as Donahue then came in, I requested him to 
 also chain our prisoner. As soon as we had him outside of the 
 place, I told him straight in the face that he was Bob Young, 
 after whom the entire detective force was looking. At the sta- 
 tion we introduced him to Capt. O'Donnell, who was highly 
 
— 57 — 
 
 pleased that wc had caught him. Bob Young and his partner 
 Crowe were sentenced to 16 years each in the penitentiary. 
 
 I met many thieves and rascals in my district, and many of 
 them were sent to the penitentiary. One Saturday evening a 
 man came to me with a warrant for the arrest of his wife which 
 stated that it was to be executed immediately. We began 
 searching for her, and very soon found her in one of the so- 
 called rooming houses almost entirely undressed, while her com- 
 panion was still fully clothed. As soon as she realized her 
 position she began to cry, but I took her to the station. We 
 had to let her companion go, as the warrant called only for the 
 arrest of the woman, but about midnight he came and asked me 
 what he could do for her. I told him to get a bond for her, and 
 as he could not do this, she had to remain in a cell till Monday 
 morning, when the judge fined her $25.00 and costs, which she 
 could not pay. She was to be sent to the workhouse at noon, but I 
 induced the bailiflf to keep her till Tuesday, and told her com- 
 panion if he had a spark of honor in his body, he would get the 
 money to pay her fine, and later in the afternoon he brought the 
 money in — she had only $4.00 in her pocket. I advised her to 
 keep away from this man, and get a position as a housemaid in 
 some home, which she did through answering an advertisement in 
 the Staats-Zeitung. She wrote me a letter saying she preferred to 
 return to her husband and three children, so I told her I would see 
 what I could do with him. I also advised her to write him where 
 he could find her, and the following week he came in and showed 
 me her letter, also told me he was having a difficult task with his 
 housekeeper. He said his wife wanted her clothes and I ad- 
 vised him to send them to her. I did not tell him his wife had 
 written to me, neither did I tell her that I had seen him. He 
 came in the next week and said he had trouble with his third 
 housekeeper, so I gave him a good lecture, and told him that he 
 should have paid some attention to his wife, who really was 
 good-looking, taking her to a show or a ball once in a while. He 
 
— 58 — 
 
 quickly saw the fairness of it and said he would go and see his 
 wife on Saturday evening, which he did and when her week was 
 up on Wednesday, she gave up her position and went back home 
 with her husband and children. Six or seven months later I 
 was stationed at State and Randolph streets, he came to see me, 
 thanked me for my efforts in bringing them together again in 
 such a nice manner and invited me to dinner with them. I saw 
 they were really happy together and I was pleased with the out- 
 come of the whole affair and proud of my part in it. I saw him 
 once in a while after that. This affair taught me a lesson to 
 observe in my future life. I was not married at that time, 
 but knew my dear Lena and one evening, my sister and I escorted 
 her throughout that entire neighborhood. 
 
 Eleven days before our wedding I was drawn by apparent 
 cries for help into a trap in a narrow alley and there attacked 
 by five rufifians. They took my revolver away from me, which 
 I foolishly had in my hip-pocket instead of my breast-pocket. 
 But I fought my way out. One of the fellows had to have 16 
 stitches taken in his scalp, but I also had received my share so 
 that we could not take any pictures on our wedding day, but 
 for which we made up three weeks later. The attorney for the 
 ruffians offered me $200.00 or a good set of furniture, which I 
 refused. He told me that Judge Foote, before whom the case 
 had been set, would liberate them, even if they had to pay him 
 more than the $200.00. I did not accept the compromise and 
 later on gave some of the fellows a good thrashing in return. 
 
 After being married on September 12, I bought a store for 
 my sister, borrowing the money, $350.00, necessary for its pur- 
 chase. A week later my oldest brother Johannes, 20 years old, 
 died. My younger brother Heinrich had hurt his chinbone the 
 winter before while iceskating. The at that time celebrated Dr. 
 Fenger operated on him nine times and finally cured him and 
 he became a letter carrier. The future did not look so rosy for 
 us, but I had my position as policeman. 
 
— 59 — 
 
 In 1879, before I was married, I took part in the singing 
 festival in Cincinnati as a member of the Sing-Verein Eintracht. 
 My brother went along. On our return we were received by 
 the wives of the other singers, and my dear Lena was among 
 them as my future wife. The last night in Cincinnati we took 
 down a transparent, in the center of which a big elephant was 
 symbolized. Next morning we fastened it to a big pole and took 
 it along to the train in our march through Cincinnati, and on our 
 march to the hall of the singing society here in Chicago we 
 dragged it with us. The wife of our Quartermaster Philipp 
 Maas is still living, nearly 80 years old and in good health. 
 
 After the singing lessons in that society I had many a won- 
 derful time. Very often my dear Lena had to get my things 
 in shape before I could get to work. Of course, I had to walk 
 over two miles at night before I got home. But many times, 
 while I was stationed at that corner, I was sent out in civilian 
 clothes to catch evil-doers and especially the thieves that were 
 robbing the wagons and sleighs and I can say that I accom- 
 plished my duty to the satisfaction of my superior officers. For 
 that reason they treated me very nicely and if ever I wanted 
 to get off for a few days, especially if I wanted to make a trip 
 out of the city, I had their permission, generally with full pay. 
 
 In 1880 the great Republican Convention which lasted ten 
 days was held here in Chicago. During that convention Grant 
 always received 306 votes while Garfield received but one. He 
 himself had nominated General Sherman. It was a treat, as the 
 best speakers and orators of the country took part in the con- 
 vention. I was stationed there at the main entrance. Most of 
 the doorkeepers were Masons. To some extent I did not 
 have a regular job, but the Chief of Police or the Captain sent 
 letters to me to obtain admission for their friends, who were 
 mostly Catholic priests, and whom I should assist in this man- 
 mer and I succeeded in satisfying most all of them. The parties 
 showed themselves to be real gentlemen and during the entire 
 
— 60 — 
 
 Convention I did not eat but once in the restaurant where the 
 policemen got their meals. I always was the guest of the parties 
 who had been sent to me, especially the priests, with whom I 
 had the finest feasts in the best places, and the best wines and 
 champagne also were not forgotten. I, of course, helped my 
 own friends in the same manner, for instance Mr. John Buehler. 
 Shortly before the end of the convention, and before the ova- 
 tion about the nomination of Garfield was over, the man who 
 had made the arrangements for the convention, and who was a 
 Colonel from the Civil War times, accused me of having smug- 
 gled people into the convention and taken money for doing it. 
 I took him by the collar and demanded that he withdraw the 
 accusation. Of course, that caused some excitement and my 
 Lieutenant Martin Hayes came on the scene. He took the man 
 away from me and I heard that he told him that it was unjust 
 to accuse me in this way. I never heard anything further about 
 the matter. Of course, it had happened that people had offered 
 me money, maybe even at the request of my superior officers, 
 and one evening a certain party was so anxious to get in that 
 I did let him enter, but I did not take the $10.00 that he 
 offered me. 
 
 During the summer I also took part in an excursion to Mil- 
 waukee with the singers. About my adventure there, I have 
 already told the story. 
 
 I should also mention about our wedding, which took place in 
 the house where my mother lived, 271 West Madison street. 
 It was quite an affair for me. I was presented with two kegs of 
 beer from Mrs. Kappes, who had a saloon on the first floor, 
 and six gallons of wine from somebody who did not want to 
 be mentioned and many other things, such as a meat roast, to 
 provide for a real wedding festival. I was married by a min- 
 ister, a friend of one of my lieutenants. He and Capt. Simon 
 O'Donnell were present at the wedding. I had only a limited 
 number of guests, but as the third floor was vacant and after 
 
— 61 — 
 
 the ceremony was over, one of our members, Mr. Kretlow, a 
 musician well-known in Chicago, came with the whole singing 
 Society Eintracht Liederkranz and they took possession of the 
 third floor and sang and danced until almost seven o'clock in 
 the morning. Brothers Maas, Heinemann and Keil were the 
 last to leave. Of all those who attended our wedding, only 
 Mrs. Maas is living today. This was our happy wedding cele- 
 bration. But a week later things began to happen. My oldest 
 brother died and then I had to take care of two families. After 
 about ten months our oldest daughter, Olga, was born, who, 
 however, lived only fourteen months, and that again caused 
 great heartache. 
 
 Along with the description of our wedding and the first year of 
 our married life I will not omit relating how we really got ac- 
 quainted. Early in the seventies I became acquainted with a 
 brother and friend of Lena, both tailors, on the Northwest 
 Side. These people I met again in 1877 on State street. They 
 had a tailor shop near 13th street, that neighborhood being very 
 respectable and densely settled southward from 12th street, 
 and from Clark street to the Lake. My never-to-be-forgotten 
 Lena was working as a housemaid in the home of a Jewish 
 banker by the name of Snydacker. I met her in September 
 when she was at the home of Mr. Ephraim, who made us ac- 
 quainted. I was stationed just for the day in that neighborhood. 
 She made a fine impression on me on account of her decent and 
 simple behavior, which I did not find in other girls of my 
 acquaintance. Although I always looked for her, I did not 
 see her until about six months later when I met her in the 
 Turner Hall with the Pomy family. A concert and ball of 
 the Orpheus and of the Liederkranz Eintracht took place in the 
 Vorwaerts Turner Hall on 12th street. That hall had been 
 built in 1868 when we first came to Chicago. The festival 
 took place for the benefit of the yellow fever sufferers in the 
 South and I took part in the singing. I did not have any idea 
 
— 62 — 
 
 of going there, but chance helped me along. I belonged to the 
 first platoon at the Harrison Street Station. The city did not 
 have any money to pay the police and other employes and our 
 wages had been cut from $1,000.00 to $850.00 per year and 
 many policemen were discharged. I had asked to be permitted 
 to go to the Turner Hall, but had been refused. 
 
 Mike McDonald at that time was proprietor of a saloon 
 on the northwest corner of Clark and Monroe streets, in the 
 upper stories of which he ran a gambling house. It was raided 
 by the other platoon. Mrs. McDonald shot at the policemen, 
 then ran upstairs, barricading the doors. About eleven 
 o*clock in the evening (Saturday evening), I was sent there 
 with Policeman McQuirck to watch everything and to see that 
 Mrs. McDonald did not escape, which, however, did happen by 
 her getting away over the roofs. The houses there were all 
 four stories high. My partner became thirsty and wanted to 
 quench his thirst, so went out of the place. A little to the 
 north there was another saloon, run by Louis Schwuchow, which 
 was open all night for the benefit of the newspaper printers, 
 etc. Now, if he had gone directly to that place, nothing would 
 have happened. But McQuirck did not want to be seen and 
 tried to enter by a back entrance, a little to the west of the 
 corner, where now the New York Life Insurance Company 
 Building is located. It was a seven-story building, erected in 
 the winter right after the fire and the foundations had not been 
 well built. These were being rebuilt and the stone masons 
 had dug a ditch ten feet deep. The large stones were laying 
 around there. About one o'clock the negro employed by Mc- 
 Donald in his gambling house, who knew me, came to me 
 with the invitation from McDonald to eat and drink all the 
 bottle beer, coffee and rolls that we wanted, also that we need 
 not bother about his wife any further as he would bring her to 
 court on Monday morning, which he really did. I asked the 
 negro to let me in later as I must go out to look for my 
 
— 63 — 
 
 partner, who had left about an hour before. The first thing 
 I did was to go to Schwuchow and ask him if he had seen 
 McQuirck. He said, **No/' Only Swanson had been there 
 and he had gone back to the station for relief. I took a bowl 
 of soup, had two glasses of beer and then went out where I met 
 an acquaintance, with whom I walked back to Monroe street. 
 It was a star-lit March night, cool and dry. My friend walked 
 in a southerly direction. Suddenly I heard a noise like 
 groaning and crying. I followed the noise and came to the 
 place of the New York Life Building and there in the ditch 
 I saw McQuirck lying, terribly hurt. Three of his ribs had 
 been broken and had pierced his lungs. I whistled for help and 
 the policeman on patrol duty there, a Pinkerton man, and a cab 
 driver came running to help me. I had to climb down and with 
 the help of the other three who laid down on the stones on the 
 level ground, we succeeded in getting him out. The policeman 
 on duty and the cab driver then took him to the station and 
 from there to the County Hospital, which at the time was located 
 at 18th street and Went worth avenue. He died two days later. 
 
 I went back to the gambling hall, where the negro treated 
 me royally, and remained till two o'clock in the afternoon when 
 I sent a passing policeman to the station to inquire how long 
 I should stay there. I was called to the station and Capt. O'Don- 
 nell asked me when I had to be back on duty. I replied : "At 
 seven in the evening.'' I had then been on duty from seven in 
 the evening until one o'clock the following afternoon, fifteen 
 hours. I made note of this, changed my clothes, went home 
 and slept a few hours, and at eight o'clock in the evening was 
 at the Turner Hall to sing with the others. When the dancing 
 began, I walked up to my dear Lena, who was sitting by 
 Mrs. Pomy, to invite her to dance. Another man was there, 
 who also wanted to dance with her. Later on she told me that 
 when she saw us coming, she asked Mrs. Pomy whom she 
 should select, and Mrs. Pomy told her, *'The tall one, he is a 
 
— 64 — 
 
 good dancer.'' After the dance I brought my Lena back to 
 Mrs. Pomy, who, when I wanted to withdraw, said, "You are 
 going to stay here, for we love to dance and my husband will 
 be in the barroom most of the evening." I gladly stayed with 
 them and we danced till five in the morning. Then I brought 
 them home and asked my dear Lena if I might call on her and 
 she assented. She was so decent and fine. When we went out, 
 I bought her five cents' worth of bananas. She knew that I 
 did not have much money, for I had to take care of my family. 
 When she wanted to go to some concert or ball, I sent my 
 brother Johannes with her, and later called for her. A great 
 concert of the Orpheus and Liederkranz Eintracht had been 
 arranged for in the Vorwaerts-Turner Hall, where she wished 
 to go. I promised her that I would call for her about midnight, 
 and that we were going to dance till early in the morning. I 
 asked my dear Captain O'Donnell for permission to go. But 
 he refused point blank, although he knew my beloved Lena. 
 However, I went though it was against his will. 
 
 On my beat on Randolph street there was a wholesale house 
 dealing in California wines and the proprietor on one evening 
 had a little too much. He met th^ captain and the two lieuten- 
 ants, EbersoU and Byrne, near his place and insisted that they 
 all should come in, as he had wine and champagne on ice and 
 also plenty of sandwiches. Captain O'Donnell took me along 
 and while he was busy opening the bottles, I told the lieutenants 
 my trouble and that I wanted to take the last street car, which 
 went on Halsted street at twelve o'clock. They told me that 
 I should talk with Noonan and Donahue and then go to the 
 Turner Hall at twelve o'clock. I did not drink much, but went 
 and hunted Noonan and Donahue, who were good friends of 
 mine, and with my civilian clothes under my overcoat, took 
 the second last street car and arrived at the Turner Hall in 
 time for the dance, where I danced till five o'clock in the 
 morning and accompanied my dear Lena home. I then went 
 
— 65 — 
 
 to the station to be on duty at seven o'clock. My dear Cap- 
 tain O'Donnell was there and asked me where I had been. I 
 answered : '*In the Turner Hall.'' He then said that he surely 
 had forbidden me to go, whereupon I explained that that was 
 true, but that the Pomys, whom he also knew well, had been 
 there and that it would have been cruel if I had not been able 
 to call for my beloved Lena. I also told him that the two lieu- 
 tenants had told me that I should communicate with Noonan 
 and Donahue and that I then could go to the Turner Hall at 
 twelve o'clock. He asked me when I had to be on duty, and on 
 my answer — at once — he did not send me out for patrol duty, 
 but gave me a warrant of arrest for a man living near the Stock 
 Yards. And when I brought the man in about ten o'clock, he 
 gave me another warrant for the arrest of a man living on Cot- 
 tage Grove avenue, near 39th street. When I returned with 
 this man at about half past twelve, the captain asked me 
 to go home with him for dinner. I was so dead tired, how- 
 ever, that I preferred sleep to any dinner. About three o'clock 
 I was awakened by hearing that the captain wanted to see 
 me. I did not get up. A few minutes later the desk sergeant 
 came, pulled me and the mattress from the bed and told me 
 that the captain wanted to see me. I dressed and went down 
 to the captain, who curtly ordered me to dress in my best and 
 go to the Pacific Hotel, to a great Jewish wedding. Some other 
 time would have suited me much better, but I had to go. I got 
 to the hotel about half past four and there stated my mission. I 
 was asked whether I had had my supper, and I replied that I 
 had had neither dinner nor supper. I was invited to go to the 
 dining room and I ordered the entire bill of fare twice as I was 
 hungry and a good eater. Afterwards I went downstairs and 
 received the guests as was the custom at that time. When all 
 were there, everybody went upstairs. I took off my overcoat 
 and overshoes and in full uniform, with kid gloves and every- 
 thing stood at the entrance to the hall till twelve o'clock, when 
 
— 66 — 
 
 the great feast began. Although served in a side room, I re- 
 ceived everything that the guests received, moselle wine and 
 champagne. I even went and got two of my colleagues from 
 the street, who helped me to finish all that was served to me. 
 Then when the wedding celebration was over at four in the 
 morning, I went home to sleep so that nobody could wake me up. 
 
 About eight years ago in the rooms of the Probate Court, 
 Judge Horner introduced me to his uncle, one of the members of 
 the wholesale grocery firm of Horner Brothers, on Randolph 
 street. I asked him if he was a younger brother of the Mr. 
 Horner, whose wedding I had attended at the Pacific Hotel? 
 He asked me what I knew about it. At the time I was President 
 of the Board of Election Commissioners and I told him that I 
 had been the policeman who had been commandeered to watch 
 the wedding. At that time I had weighed about 100 pounds 
 less than now. He looked at me from head to foot. I stood 
 up in front of him and stated that I still was six feet two inches 
 in height. He said that he recognized me now and that it was 
 his own wedding which had taken place there. They had spoken 
 about the wedding at home a short time ago and how beau- 
 tiful everything had been and how the German policeman 
 had handled everything in such good shape. He asked me how 
 I had been treated at the wedding, and I could assure him very 
 fine, that I had received everything to eat and drink the same 
 as he himself had received. I was highly pleased with the recog- 
 nition after all these years. Forty years had gone by since that 
 wedding. 
 
 I have had many more adventures. 
 
 One evening an elderly man came to me and asked me if I 
 had seen two nice looking girls with real red cheeks in the 
 company of an older man, who had a business in the same 
 place. I had seen them and also had seen where they went. 
 So I brought the old man to a three-story house at the corner 
 of Congress and State streets, which had been built in 1874 right 
 
— 67 — 
 
 after the fire especially for this purpose. It was not even 
 equipped with gas. A Mrs. Goldstein was running the place, 
 who at first wanted to refuse us permission to look for the 
 parties. I insinuated to her that if she did not wish any trou- 
 ble, she would not hinder us in our quest. Upon our knock- 
 ing, the door was opened a bit, and I put my foot in and pushed 
 the door entirely open. One of the girls had to light a light and 
 we found the man and the two girls together in bed. I forced 
 the man to get up and took him along, while I left the father 
 with his two daughters, aged nineteen and twenty-one years. 
 The fellow spoke of a warrant, but a slap on his cheek con- 
 vinced him that it was better for him to come along peaceably. 
 Next morning he was fined $5.00 and costs. 
 
 A few nights after that I met the old man again, who told me 
 that his daughters did not want to go home with him. I told 
 him that if he wanted to appear against them, I would arrest 
 the girls and also that fellow once more and that the latter would 
 not get ofif so easily this time. The girls undoubtedly would be 
 held for a few days and that surely would be enough for them. 
 The father thought that he did not wish to put the shame of 
 having been arrested on his daughters. So I had to let him go, 
 but told him that to be locked up would come soon enough and 
 that in a few years more he would not be able to recognize his 
 daughters. 
 
 Shortly before I left that station, I had asked my captain if 
 he could transfer me to the day shift. In the meantime he had 
 become Chief of Police and on November 1st I was transferred. 
 
 Once near midnight when I was standing at the corner of 
 Harrison and State streets, I heard a terrible noise coming from 
 the neighborhood of Clark and Van Buren streets. Two po- 
 licemen, rather little fellows, were trying to arrest one of the 
 damsels there, Maggie by name, who was tall and strong. She 
 knew me and I told her to be good and come along. I offered 
 her my arm and led her to the station. On the way she told 
 
— 68 — 
 
 me that she was sick and tired of that Ufe, and I advised her 
 to get a position as a housemaid for she was strong enough 
 and could make money. Next morning a young fellow came 
 and asked me if I could get Maggie out of the bull pen, where 
 the prisoners were kept before sentence. I did so and he talked 
 with her in a corner of the room till her case was called. I 
 spoke a good word for Maggie and she was fined $10.00 and 
 costs. About five years after that, long after I had quit the 
 police force, I was driving over the viaduct on Sangamon street 
 when I noticed a woman with a baby carriage. As I came near 
 her, she stopped me and said : ''Yes, Lueders, it is I." It was 
 the celebrated Maggie with her children, one of which could 
 walk. She told me that the young man who had spoken with 
 her at the station and for whom I had let her out of the bull 
 pen had promised her that morning that he would marry her if 
 she would give up that immoral life. She also asked me if I 
 remembered it. She said that she had promised him to be a true 
 and honest wife and so he had married her. With pride she 
 pointed to her two children. I asked her if one or the other of 
 her old admirers came to see her, whereupon she answered : 
 ''Lueders, you know me — '' and she showed her clenched fist. 
 She always was able to take care of herself and to combat even 
 very strong men. I saw her several times after that for a num- 
 ber of years ; she had another baby and I am fully convinced 
 that she became a true and honest wife. 
 
 I was held in reserve one afternoon shortly before I went on 
 day duty. There were something like fifteen or twenty men at 
 the station. Then a woman came in, looked us over, came to me 
 and asked if she could talk to me privately. I took her into the 
 court room, which was empty. After we sat down, she began 
 to cry and told me that she had been born and raised in St. 
 Louis, but had been immoral there. After she became disgusted 
 with that, she came to Chicago and got a place in one of the rich 
 families of the South Side. There she met and married a man 
 
— 69 — 
 
 who did not know anything about her life in St. Louis. 
 Now one of her former paramours in St. Louis had found out 
 her address and had written her that she must meet him at the 
 railroad station, otherwise he would tell her husband what kind 
 of a woman she had been. I took the woman to O'Donnell, who 
 said : "August, get into full civilian clothes quickly and bring in 
 that fellow." There was no time to be lost. On the way to 
 the station the woman told me that she did not wish to point out 
 the man to me for then he would know that she had given him 
 away. I told her that she must meet the man, and that I would 
 keep in the background but would appear in due time, and that 
 she should not mind what I would say to her. The fellow ar- 
 rived on the train, and after he had talked to the woman for 
 about ten or fifteen minutes, I walked up to them, took the 
 fellow by the neck and slapped his ears (O'Donnell had told 
 me to treat him not too gently) and told him that I thought that 
 he was the fellow after whom my captain had sent me ; but he 
 should have been alone. Then I asked the woman : ''Who are 
 you and who is the fellow whom you have there? It is best 
 that I take both of you to the station." I told her not to run 
 away, and the fellow begged me not to beat him again. I 
 brought him to the captain at the station and said, "I believe 
 this is the fellow you sent me to bring in. He had a woman 
 with him, and I asked both, who they were, but did not get any 
 reply. So I brought both of them along and the woman is 
 outside." I was then instructed by the captain to see that she 
 did not run away and he took hold of the fellow. Then the 
 woman was called in, and I was instructed to take the fellow to 
 the Chicago & Alton Railroad depot and see that he bought a 
 ticket back to St. Louis, then ride along with him to Brighton 
 Park, which at that time was outside of the city limits. I should 
 not handle the fellow too gently, was the final instruction. I told 
 him that if we ever saw him in Chicago again, or if he wrote 
 another letter such as he had done, someone would come to St. 
 
— 70 — 
 
 Louis after him and that we would send him to the penitentiary. 
 This time we had decided to be lenient with him at the request of 
 the woman. I accompanied him to Brighton Park, where I beat 
 him around the ears several times before I left him. The conduc- 
 tor asked me if that was our way of saying good-bye to a friend. 
 I told the whole story to the conductor and asked him to see that 
 the man did not leave the train before he arrived in St. Louis. 
 We never heard anything further from him and undoubtedly he 
 did not write any more such letters. 
 
 Late in the fall I was transferred to the West Side. McGar- 
 rigle had become Chief of Police in the meantime and 0*Don- 
 nell again had assumed his duties as captain at the 12th Street 
 Station. I was transferred to the old Madison Street Station, 
 where the notorious Captain Bontield held sway. There again 
 I had a good Irish partner and showed myself to be good at 
 catching thieves. We arrested a fellow who was carrying a big 
 bag of things stolen from the well-known eye and ear specialist, 
 Dr. Hotz. The thief did not wish to tell Captain Bonfield but 
 would tell the men who arrested him, where the rest of the 
 stolen things could be found. After the thief had been held to 
 the Criminal Court next morning, the doctor asked the judge 
 if he could have his things, as he had to return the things 
 that he had borrowed from his brother-in-law, who was the great 
 wagon manufacturer, Schuettler. After I had made an inven- 
 tory thereof, which was our custom at the Harrison Street Sta- 
 tion, I gave the things, which were worth about $500.00, to the 
 doctor. Two days later. Captain Bonfield called me to his room 
 and asked me how I, without his permission, had dared return 
 the things to the doctor. I replied that the judge had ordered it. 
 He then asked me, "Who made out the inventory?" I answered 
 that I had made it out. He said neither my beloved O'Donnell 
 nor I could do that. I had to get the inventory from headquarters 
 and after thoroughly inspecting and not finding anything wrong 
 with it, he put his name on it. I returned it to headquarters. 
 
— 71 — 
 
 where all present laughed about the way Captain Bonfield had 
 acted. Two days later, the doctor came and invited us to a 
 dinner at a place next to the station and gave me $10.00, request- 
 ing that I should give half of it to my colleague. I told him 
 that we were not allowed to take any money without permission 
 of our superior officer, also told him that if I had not given him 
 his things it would have cost him much more to get them back. 
 
 Some time later my comrade and I arrested the two robbers 
 w^ho had held up the employees at the new railroad station on 
 Canal street. One of them received ten years in the peniten- 
 tiary, the other was set free, because the people could not defi- 
 nitely identify him. A Saturday night later on, both of us being 
 thirsty, we went to a typical Irishman, Mike Ford, who had a 
 place at Canal and Van Buren streets. As we were entering 
 at the side entrance, two fellows carrying a big package were 
 leaving the place and one of them said that they were tailors. 
 We did not trust the fellows and asked Ford to give us hats, 
 took off our overcoats and followed the men. One of them 
 disappeared at the bridge, but we picked up the other one carry- 
 ing the package on Fifth avenue, now Wells street, and took 
 him back to Mike's place. We found fine cloaks in the package. 
 We put on our overcoats and took the man to the station, where 
 Captain Bonfield was present. He asked us where we had picked 
 up the fellow, and when we told him at Van Buren street and 
 Fifth avenue, he growled at us instead of praising us and 
 wanted to know what business we had there. The next Wednes- 
 day we read in the newspapers that two of his detectives had 
 caught a fellow with $700.00 worth of goods which had been 
 stolen from a cloak factory (coat factory) on Quincy street. 
 We never saw the thief or coats again. Thus the great Bon- 
 field was a bragging, crooked and thieving officer. I made every 
 effort to get away from there and Chief McGarrigle transferred 
 me again to the South Side, at the corner of State and Randolph 
 streets, where I got acquainted with the later well-known brewer. 
 
— 72 — 
 
 Peter Hand. At that time he was a cigar salesman and had been 
 a lieutenant during the Civil War. I met him on the North 
 Side, coming from the Criminal Court a few weeks before that 
 time. He became agent for the Conrad Seipp Brewery and 
 sometimes took me along to call on his customers. He ex- 
 plained his duties, whereupon I told him that I also could do that. 
 He knew that the brewery was looking for more agents, so on his 
 recommendation I made application and by the end of May got a 
 position with the West Side Brewery, which, however, I could 
 not accept until June 11, as my chief told Mr. Seipp that it was 
 the rule that a fellow had to wait ten days for his release and 
 then it would be hard for them to replace me. I put in my resig- 
 nation on June 1st. The last day of my service was a very hard 
 one, as I was stationed at the corner of Canal and Van Buren 
 streets, and the bridges on Adams and Van Buren streets were 
 out of order. As it was on a Saturday and there was a tie-up of 
 all kinds of vehicles that wanted to get away from the freight 
 depots, I stayed all day and did not even go for dinner. 
 
 When I made the application for this position at the brew- 
 ery, I had to give references and among them I gave the name 
 of John Buehler, the banker, who, with Mr. Seipp, was half 
 owner of the Aurora Turner Hall. When I told Mr. Buehler 
 that I had taken the liberty of giving his name as a reference, 
 he asked me if I needed any bonds, in which case he would 
 be willing to sign them for me. It seemed that he had not for- 
 gotten the small attention I had shown him tvv^o years before. 
 I did not have to furnish bonds but was asked if I were 
 able to talk Plattdeutsch (low German), whereupon I answered 
 in my mother tongue, which was of greatest service to me in 
 that position. 
 
 In the summer of 1881 I came from the Vorwaerts Turner 
 Hall with Mr. John Gloy and Mr. Bielefeld. At that time the 
 patrol wagons were being introduced at the 12th Street Station. 
 One day when I arrived at the station the wagon was about to 
 
— 7Z — 
 
 start out. I jumped in and helped another policeman named 
 O'Brien to get in. I did not have a revolver with me for I did 
 not have any idea what it was all about and what was going to 
 happen. We went to Morgan and Henry streets. There a 
 boy by the name of Cahill had shot another boy in the leg and 
 had been arrested by a policeman living in the neighborhood. 
 His mother and an older brother by the name of Thomas Cahill 
 took him away from the policeman. When we got there, the 
 Cahills had barricaded themselves in the rear house where they 
 lived. O'Brien knew them and appealed to them to come out 
 and give themselves up. There were three of us standing on 
 the platform of the stairway. Instead of surrendering them- 
 selves, the door of their room was opened a little bit, a shot rang 
 out, and O'Brien fell into my arms, shot through the lungs. We 
 carefully took him downstairs, but he died two days later, leav- 
 ing a widow and eight children, ranging in age from two to 
 twelve years. 
 
 I took O'Brien's revolver and ran back to the door. In the 
 meantime more policemen arrived and the shooting started 
 again. Later on we figured out that Tom must have shot at 
 least thirty times, always encouraged by his mother to do so. 
 Each time the door was suddenly opened a little and a shot 
 fired. Two more policemen were shot that way, one in the head 
 and the other in the side. I am still amazed today that I was 
 not hit. Only O'Donnell and I were left about twelve- 
 thirty and O'Donnell told me, ''Do not let the fellow get away. 
 I am going to get more policemen so that we can break in the 
 door with a fence post." Then when the mother and son saw 
 that I was the only one left she said to him, "Tom, shoot at him 
 through the window." She placed a light on the window sill be- 
 fore the curtain so that they could see me much better. I was 
 down stairs in the yard, not fifteen feet from the window, and 
 I had heard the advice of the mother. I had been very careful 
 with my cartridges, and had only two left. We pointed at each 
 
— 74 — 
 
 other. Both shots rang out at the same time and I heard 
 the mother's voice : ''Oh, my poor Tom has been shot through 
 the lungs/' He did not die from that wound, neither was he 
 hung, but was sent to the penitentiary for Hfe. The mother 
 went free. 
 
 Near the end of March, the last time I was stationed at the 
 12th Street Station, a very nice Irishman came and asked me to 
 go with him to his house as he had a position of trust and 
 was a messenger for the Hibernian Bank. He had an elderly 
 woman taking care of his five children. Then he took me to 
 a place under the house and there was his wife totally drunk. 
 The house stood on posts four feet high. He asked me to arrest 
 his wife, which I did after he told me the circumstances. He 
 fetched a wheelbarrow and we placed her in it. I held her 
 head and we took her to the station. Next morning the judge 
 asked her if she could sober up in a month. She said she would 
 and the judge fined her $15.00 and costs, which meant thirty- 
 three days in the workhouse. A year later, when I was at the 
 Harrison Street Station, the man came to me and asked me if I 
 would be willing to testify for him, the priest and the bishop 
 having allowed him to start suit for divorce. The bank officials 
 had helped him before in this affair and they told me he was a 
 good and truthful fellow. I testified for him and he got a 
 divorce. He told me that when he saw he could not do anything 
 with her, he bought a small barrel of whiskey and thought 
 that she would drink herself to death. 
 
 There at Harrison Street Station, I got acquainted with a 
 number of nice people, for instance. Dr. Ernst Schmidt, the 
 father of the celebrated Dr. Otto L. Schmidt, who in 1879, 
 when he was running on the Labor Ticket for mayor of the city, 
 received over 12,000 votes. Carter Harrison received at that 
 time 25,000 votes and the Republican about 20,000 votes. 
 
 I also got acquainted with Dr. Ziegfeld, father and grand- 
 father of the present Ziegfelds. He not only was a physician, 
 
— 75 — 
 
 but also a musician. My dear Lena often baked pumpernickel 
 for him, which at that time was very hard to get 
 
 In November, 1880, my dear Lena's two brothers, Johann, the 
 older, and Charles, came to Chicago. It was only right that 
 she should desire to bring the rest of her family over here. 
 We had settled all our debts with our aunt, but I still had to help 
 my mother. Then one day the aunt stated that she wanted to 
 send for her sister and her family and had written them to get 
 ready by spring. At that time we were living in two rooms 
 and paid $5.00 per month rent. The house was rather out of 
 the way so in February we rented another four-room flat on 
 Washburn avenue, for which we had to pay $10.00 rent. We 
 also needed money for stoves and other necessary things as 
 my dear Lena had used her aunt's stove. She always went to 
 the Stock Yards with a neighbor for meat, where it could be 
 had much cheaper. But I had a friend from Hamburg, Fritz 
 Sommer by name, who let me have a stove and everything that 
 was necessary in the kitchen. We had a table and chairs. The 
 table as well as one or two of the chairs are still in my posses- 
 sion and are highly prized. Charlie moved with us, while Johann 
 remained with my aunt, who had written her sister to come, but 
 had not arranged for the cost of the tickets which for all, 
 amounted to $180.00. I went to Mr. Wm. Heinemann and told 
 him our troubles and made a down payment of $40.00 and 
 signed seven notes of $20.00 each for the balance and the tickets 
 were sent ofif the same day. The joy of my dear Lena was 
 great when I told her about it that evening. Then the next 
 thing I did was to go to my friend Sommer and tell him that 
 for the time being he would have to wait for payments on the 
 stove, etc. But in answer he said: ''Now that your wife's 
 parents and the children are coming, you surely will need more, 
 and we have everything that you want." That of course pleased 
 us very much. The family arrived the first of May. Charles 
 was working on new buildings and we all saved and were inde- 
 
— 76 — 
 
 pendent of the aunt, who of course, now understood that she 
 had not acted quite right. I procured a position for my father- 
 in-law near where we were Hving, in a stable of the street car 
 company. Thus everything went along nicely and in good 
 order. Johann went to live with his parents and was married 
 two years later. Charles remained with us. The following 
 winter I got acquainted with the foreman in the press room of 
 the Daily News and through my influence my brother-in-law 
 secured employment there. So he was steadily employed and had 
 no troubles. The payment of our debts then proceeded more 
 rapidly. 
 
 My father-in-law was a good scout. They arrived on a Sat- 
 urday evening. Next morning I told him we wanted to go to 
 church. Later he told me he never had been a great church goer. 
 Neither was I. And he had thought that here in this country we 
 were free of the church, but the first thing we did was go to 
 church. He saw the great Jesuit Church behind our place and 
 thought that we were going there. However, I led him to Mr. 
 Maas' place, the meeting place of all the intelligent German- 
 Americans of the South Side. When we got there, I told him, 
 that was my church. ''Now, then everything is all right,'' he said. 
 Inside were quite a number of my friends and lodge brothers. 
 Brother Maas greeted us and Kastler, Yuers and many more 
 were in attendance. Mr. Maas always had a wonderful free 
 lunch on Sunday and he told my father-in-law that he might 
 eat whatever pleased him, for which he was thanked, for my 
 father-in-law thought that I would have to pay for it. But Mr. 
 Maas took a plate, knife and fork, filled the plate with all kinds 
 of good things to eat and placed it before the old man with 
 the invitation to enjoy himself and that it did not cost anything. 
 Then he ate everything and later on visited Maas' place every 
 morning. He worked right behind his place, and always came 
 to drink two glasses of beer and Mr. Maas always gave him 
 
— 77 — 
 
 something nice to eat. That custom was a great pleasure for 
 my father-in-law. 
 
 I already have related how I gave up my position and started 
 on a new one. It was a rather hard fight until I became 
 accustomed to the life of the representative of a brewery. But 
 my dear Lena faithfully stood by me. My competitors laughed 
 about it when I took her with me to the customers, who some- 
 times did not like it when she came along. But sometimes I 
 invited the women of the saloon keepers to visit us and Lena 
 prepared some good cofifee for them. The women as a rule, had 
 great influence on their husbands and I knew how to take ad- 
 vantage of that. I became very, very busy as I had to take 
 part in Polish weddings, which often lasted for 24 hours and 
 more. Sometimes I had to bring home some of the cakes that 
 had been given me by the fair ladies. I was especially busy dur- 
 ing the Christmas time, as I had to satisfy some of the customers 
 when they thought they had not been fairly dealt with in their 
 Christmas presents, and so I had no time to have a celebration 
 at home. But my dear Lena did not kick about it, and after a 
 year I was well established in my position and the Brewery in- 
 creased my salary from year to year so that after seven years 
 my income from my salary was $2,500.00. 
 
 We then took part in many festivities, and also made 
 our wedding trip. In 1883 the Turn-Verein Vorwaerts made an 
 excursion to St. Louis. We took part in it and had a wonderful 
 time. The same year a saloonkeeper told me that if I would join 
 the West Chicago Wirts-Verein that he would take my beer. I 
 accepted his offer and later on took a prominent part in the 
 affairs of the organization. 
 
 In 1882 we moved a little northward, nearer to the brewery, 
 on Paulina and Cornelia streets. That neighborhood at the 
 time was almost exclusively settled by Plattdeutsch (low Ger- 
 mans) and as most of our customers in that neighborhood were 
 Plattdeutsch, the reason why I was sent over there was that I 
 
— 78- 
 
 could talk that language. I had a double-seated sled and on a 
 certain winter day, the saloonkeeper in front of whose place I 
 was standing, unhitched the horse and sent it to the brewery. 
 The saloonkeepers with some of their friends then pulled and 
 pushed the sled and finally there were ten of us. We went from 
 place to place and we had a lot of fun and enjoyment doing it. 
 
 At that time I had some customers in what was called Jeffer- 
 son and one at the County Institution at Dunning. They told 
 me one day I should visit a saloonkeeper by the name of Thor- 
 son and one at the County Institution at Dunning. They told 
 out on Milwaukee avenue in connection with a brick yard. The 
 County Clerk, Wulf from Meldorf, also went along. When we 
 got there I treated three times. Friend Callahan then said that 
 I should treat once more. So far I had not paid yet. At the 
 end of the bar a man was standing, whom I asked what he 
 wanted to drink. He replied in genuine Mecklenburgian, that 
 he would not drink with us, for fellows like us who did not pay 
 for their drinks were not good company and that we should pay 
 before he would drink with us, as otherwise he would have to 
 pay himself. All of us with the exception of Callahan, who 
 could not understand him, laughed out loud in which the saloon- 
 keeper joined us. On being informed of what had been said, 
 Callahan remarked, yes, we really look rather suspicious and 
 so you, Lueders, better pay up. I paid and then he took his 
 drink. Callahan then took him in his care and insisted that inas- 
 much as he was an Irishman that he had to drink whiskey with 
 him, which he willingly did. He soon had enough so that he fell 
 asleep. That broke the ice and I won the customer. 
 
 I then paid for everything and made all necessary arrange- 
 ments. We later had supper at Callahan's place, whose wife 
 was a good cook. It was late at night when I got home, but 
 Mr. Thorson had his load of beer as well as the necessary signs 
 early next morning. 
 
 In 1882 when Mr. Wm. Seipp ran for the office of County 
 
— 79 — 
 
 Treasurer, he was elected especially through my efforts in the 
 city itself. For instance, the old 14th ward at that time was 
 really Ohio street, and the entire Northwest Side generally gave 
 the Republican ticket a majority of 2500 votes. Mr. Wulf 
 at that time was elected on the Republican ticket, but almost all 
 the other candidates on the Democratic ticket, including Mr. 
 Seipp, received a majority of about 2300 votes in that Platt- 
 deutsche ward. That settled the election and it also brought me 
 the name of a politician ; although I never ran for any political 
 office, in most cases my advice was sought by the political bosses 
 and I at some later time showed the Democrats what I was able 
 to do. At that time I demanded that they nominate my friend, 
 Carl Haerting, for the position of City Clerk. He really was a 
 man well able to fill the position, but they did not do it and in 
 his stead nominated a commission man by the name of Neu- 
 meister. His opponent was Franz Amberg, a lodge brother of 
 mine, for whom I came out open in the field and he was elected 
 by a great majority. 
 
 That gave me more glory and influence, which however I 
 only made use of for my friends and customers. Later on I 
 also brought my influence to bear against other candidates, 
 especially against Alderman Johnson of the 14th ward, who had 
 voted for a license of $1,000.00 and who was beaten so badly 
 that he was eliminated from the political field. 
 
 In 1881 our daughter was born, who passed away in 1896 
 at the age of 14 years and 4 months. Her death was a bad blow 
 for my dear Lena, which she was never able to overcome. In 
 1884 our son Walter was born, who died in 1919. He left two 
 precious girls behind him, the oldest of whom is eighteen 
 and engaged to be married to Architect Jacob Gerber. Our only 
 surviving child. Dr. August H. Lueders, was born directely after 
 the Haymarket riot on June 9, 1886. This event nearly cost 
 my dear Lena's life. The other two children were lying ill 
 with scarlet fever that had been brought to us by some Meth- 
 
odists who lived in the same house that we were living in. I 
 stayed up with her the whole night and slept only a few hours 
 in the morning and in the evening. During the night I was 
 lying on the floor so that I could be on hand right away when 
 wanted or needed. Many a night she slept very little and then 
 we talked together about all kinds of things. One night we heard 
 how these so-called Christians were singing all kinds of songs 
 and hallelujahs after German melodies. I surely cannot recog- 
 nize these people as Christians. I told her surely a child has 
 died, and such was the case and they had sung these songs and 
 melodies all night long. My mother and mother-in-law were 
 with us in the house that night. Lena's sister was our ser- 
 vant girl and a Mrs. Keese from Marne, who is still living 
 and over 90 years old, was also with us quite frequently. She 
 used to live next door to us. All got well, but the terrible sickness 
 laid the foundation for the condition that at too early a date 
 took our dear Irma away from us, notwithstanding all possible 
 medical assistance. 
 
 At that time I bought a building lot on Augusta street for 
 $1,200.00. We had a little more money besides and so we built 
 a nice home with a good basement, having six rooms upstairs, 
 and kitchen and bedrooms downstairs. The front room very 
 often was used as a dance hall. Of all our friends at that time, 
 only Fritz Nebel is living and now resides in California. In 
 that home we enjoyed many happy hours. First came the house- 
 warming on January 15th, the birthday of my dear Lena. How- 
 ever we had moved in there at the beginning of November and 
 hoped to live there for the rest of our lives, but in 1893, the 
 elevated railroad drove us away. We received a rather good 
 compensation for the house and were glad to get away. A 
 Lieutenant von Mannstein very frequently was our guest there 
 as he had been many times at our former residences. He 
 danced and sang very well. He had to leave Germany for 
 the following reason: He was billeted with his men before 
 
— 81 — 
 
 Paris and on Christmas eve they discovered quite a lot of 
 wine in a castle and merrily celebrated the evening, so that 
 when his major came for inspection, he found the soldiers a 
 little too happy, so he said to von Mannstein : ''Yea, your men 
 are a band of soused swine.'* Von Mannstein, who did not 
 like this remark, drew his sword, stepped before the major and 
 protested against such language and said that his men were good 
 Prussian soldiers and not swine. Of course, this was an in- 
 fringement on the strict discipline and only because his father, 
 his brother and all his relatives were highly esteemed officers in 
 the army, did he get off with light punishment, which consisted 
 in his being allowed to take part in the victorious return to and 
 entrance in Berlin with his regiment, then to resign and leave his 
 fatherland. At first he lived in New York, then came to Chicago, 
 where he got a position in the Map Department of the City 
 Hall. When I got acquainted with him in 1883, he was ready 
 to return to Germany and he received his pardon long years 
 after, but did not return home. He was a fine entertainer and 
 we often exchanged visits with him. He also knew how to 
 make a real fine punch (bowl), which we in Hinsdale are still 
 willing to enjoy if we can get the necessary material such as 
 red wine, rum, champagne and all the other necessary little 
 things that go with it. To our sorrow, the three first named 
 articles are very hard to get. 
 
 Shortly after the throwing of the bomb on the Haymarket 
 in 1886, a saloonkeeper who had been there as a bystander, told 
 me that the whole thing could have been prevented if the notori- 
 ous Capt. Bonfield had carried out the orders of Mayor Harri- 
 son, who also had listened to the speeches, that the police return 
 to their stations. But that infernal rascal wanted to see blood. 
 My friend told me that he had seen the bomb fly through the 
 air, also that Bonfield had shot right and left into the crowd. 
 
 He said it was too bad that the bomb did not strike that d d 
 
 fellow, for Chicago surely would have lost very little thereby. 
 
— 82 — 
 
 It surely was a wonder that more people were not killed or 
 wounded. One thing a reliable business man told me a few 
 days ago is sure, that Spies had been a much better man mentally 
 and morally than Bonfield. He asked me if I knew Spies, 
 which I did, in fact I knew him very well as a policeman and 
 later I often heard his speeches. As to Bonfield, I know that 
 he was a big grafter. I had the proofs of it, for otherwise he 
 surely would have reported me for the manner in which I went 
 against him. And how did some of the other higher police 
 officers, for instance, Ebersold, act and prosecute the saloon- 
 keepers? Everywhere he sensed all kinds of conspiracies be- 
 tween the Anarchists and the saloonkeepers. At one time I 
 went to Ebersold and complained about a Danish sergeant who 
 worked against very high standing saloonkeepers in an out- 
 rageous manner. I told Ebersold that everything that sergeant 
 had reported against these people was a lie. He asked me then, 
 why I was so sure about it and that if my claims could be proven 
 true he would discharge the man. My claims never have 
 been contradicted, but two years later that sergeant was dis- 
 missed from the service in disgrace, not by Ebersold, but 
 by his successor. One thing is certain, that not much good 
 can be said about our German Chief of Police, who in all his 
 time as a member of the police force did not have the distinction 
 of having personally arrested a criminal of note. He rose to 
 the rank because he was a good and faithful Methodist, who 
 went to church every Sunday. That surely helped him to get 
 the position, but it was not enough to keep him there. 
 
 That was a terrible time, for the snufflers were on top. Every- 
 where people were denounced as socialists or anarchists, and 
 the accused did not have any idea what crime they committed. 
 However, in time the excitement died down and the few who 
 are still living from that time, now laugh about the anarchist 
 fear prevailing then. I was Secretary of the West Chicago 
 Wirts-Verein and all who got into trouble came to me for help. 
 
— 83 — 
 
 At that time I became acquainted with 'long'' Harris. He was 
 Alderman and a lawyer and I got him to represent the Wirts- 
 Verein, whereby he was able to do a lot of good. And as a 
 genuine American, or rather native born American, they could 
 not say or do anything against him. 
 
 The first conference of the saloonkeepers in which I took 
 part was held in Springfield in 1886. We had a good customer 
 there, whom another brewery wanted to get away from us. The 
 place was owned by two very nice Swedish fellows and they 
 were known as having the best and finest place there. Later, in 
 1889 we established a branch office there and I succeeded in 
 winning a few very good customers in Springfield and the neigh- 
 borhood. In 1890, at the state convention of the Wirts-Verein 
 I was elected state secretary. It was also a hard job as the 
 association was on the point of breaking up and if I had not 
 spent my Sundays going first to one place or another and worked 
 hard for the association, this surely would have happened. But 
 during that year I was so successful that I was re-elected un- 
 animously for another year. In 1889 the convention was held in 
 Peoria and we were just celebrating our tenth wedding anni- 
 versary, so we got a lot of presents in tinware and twenty years 
 after we still had quite a lot of the kitchenware in regular use. 
 We celebrated the event with a number of good cocktails. 
 
 In 1891, the reformers and the Methodists began a campaign 
 against the saloonkeepers in LaSalle and Peru. They did not 
 go after the saloons in Ottawa. Even the mayor of LaSalle, Mr. 
 Mattison, had been indicted for negligence in office. The owners 
 of the places were each fined $25.00 and costs. Twice they 
 were taken in that way and now prosecuted for the third time. 
 So they called for help and assistance from the state organiza- 
 tion and the President, Mr. John F. Ginty, I as the secretary and 
 Mr. Madison Harris as attorney were sent there to find out 
 what could be done. It was nothing but a common holdup, en- 
 gineered by the local state's attorney, a Methodist preacher and 
 
— 84 — 
 
 the ex-state's attorney of LaSalle County, who shared the 
 proceeds between themselves. Our Mr. Harris was well ac- 
 quainted with the ex-state's attorney and we invited him to Mr. 
 Metzger's saloon, where we played cards with him the whole 
 night, for the drinks, of course. Now, when the ex-state's at- 
 torney lost, Mr. Harris paid for it and so about five in the morn- 
 ing he began to confess and stated that the Methodist preacher 
 brought in the proofs, that the state's attorney entered the suits, 
 and that he, who was well acquainted with the saloonkeepers 
 nolle-prossed the suits against payment of costs. The saloon- 
 keepers after that were not further molested and Mayor Matti- 
 son was discharged by a jury. 
 
 Mr. Mattison at his own expense had the water works built 
 and sold it to the city for $1.00. He was a Schleswig-Holstein- 
 ian and came from Altona. I was present at all state conventions 
 which were held, once in Quincy, twice in Bloomington, and 
 once in Rock Island. I always had Lena, my life's dear com- 
 panion, with me and both of us made friends wherever we went. 
 But most of them have already gone where my dear Lena is. 
 
 In 1898 we visited the exhibition in Omaha, which in its way 
 was very good ; here we became acquainted with Mr. Niemand 
 from Itzehoe, whom we met often later on. We also visited 
 his brother in Itzehoe, who was a teacher there. 
 
 In 1893 I helped organize the Saloonkeepers Association of 
 the United States, whose next convention took place in 1894 
 in St. Louis. It was a great success and the organization was 
 placed on a solid footing. Of course, we delegates were treated 
 wonderfully. A local brewer had furnished the money for that. 
 In 1895 the convention took place at the federal capital, Wash- 
 ington. I saw that city then for the first time. We were treated 
 like kings in every respect and were shown all that was worth 
 seeing. From there we went to Philadelphia, where we stayed 
 one day, and then to New York, which I saw for the first time 
 since our arrival as emigrants. We stayed there for a full week 
 
— 85 — 
 
 and on our way home we stopped over in Baltimore and also in 
 Pittsburgh for one day. 
 
 In 1894 we moved from one house into the other. Once, 
 burglars got into our house and the thieves took my gold watch 
 and chain and $40.00 in cash. Later at Christmas my friends 
 made me a present of a gold watch valued at $400.00. I recently 
 gave the watch to my son as a keepsake. 
 
 During the conventions of the state organization as well as 
 those of the national alliance we became acquainted with a 
 number of very fine people, with whom we kept in constant 
 communication. For instance, Mr. Tellbuescher of Quincy, Mr. 
 Ohlweiler of Rock Island, Mr. W. P. Schade of Decatur, and 
 Senator Charles Schweichart of St. Louis. In Cleveland I met 
 the two brothers Hausschild from Neumuenster; they were 
 somewhat younger than I. In Hoboken I met an old schoolmate 
 of mine, Johannes Schuemann who has, as have all of the 
 others mentioned here, gone to the place from which no one 
 returns. This coming winter I shall visit his nephew in Vera 
 Cruz. I met his father in the old home-town in 1900. He drove 
 us around several times and helped us to find our relatives. 
 
 I nearly forgot my dear friends in Springfield, Charley 
 Becker and Charley Fehr. But these, too, are gone. 
 
 In the beginning of March, 1898, I had a real surprise. A 
 goodly delegation of the two Schleswig-Holsteinian Societies, 
 the Unterstuetzungs-Verein and the Saenger-Bund, came to 
 my house at 1107 South Ashland avenue, under the leadership 
 of Mr. Heinrich Kaul of Forest Park and requested me to 
 undertake the organization and carrying out of the contemplated 
 celebration of the fiftieth anniversary of the Revolution of 1848 
 of Schleswig-Holstein. I finally accepted, but I knew what was 
 in store for me. The first thing I did was to send out 100 postal 
 cards calling a meeting for planning this celebration. I called that 
 meeting at a place in the Old Staats-Zeitung building. The pro- 
 prietor was a countryman of mine. But as the place proved too 
 
— 86 — 
 
 small and as we wanted to hold the celebration on the North 
 Side, we called the next meeting at the Turner Hall. I sent two 
 barrels of beer to the hall for that meeting and thus everything 
 was good, but we did not have the proper speakers. One was 
 Mr. Wittmeyer, Vice-President of the Germania Maenner- 
 Chor. I wanted to get somebody from outside. Mr. Adolph 
 Georg, who was well known among the old 48ers, had written 
 everywhere, but could not get an acceptance from anyone for the 
 simple reason that the Schleswig-Holstein societies everywhere 
 were going to celebrate the event. Only a party from Daven- 
 port, with whom I had become acquainted the year before in 
 LaSalle at the Turner festival, was willing to come, but he was 
 no Schleswig-Holsteiner. So we did not know what to do until 
 a Mr. Nickelsen said that the German Consul in Chicago, Dr. 
 Karl Buenz was a good speaker and came from Schleswig-Hol- 
 stein. So I went at once with Secretary Clausen to the Consul ; 
 we had to wait for over an hour and three times he sent to in- 
 quire for what purpose we had come, and on our reply that it 
 was a personal affair, we just had to wait till the Russian Consul, 
 who was with him, was ready to leave. When at last we 
 got to the Consul and explained our mission, he asked me under 
 what flag we were going to celebrate, and when I told him under 
 the Schleswig-Holstein blue, white and red flag and the Star 
 Spangled Banner, which as citizens of the United States was our 
 country's banner, and then the German black, white and red 
 banner, he agreed to talk with us about it. We were not with 
 him ten minutes when I was talking Plattdeutsch to him which 
 seemed to please him very much, especially when he learned that 
 I had been in this country for thirty years, and finally he gave us 
 the promise that he would come to our meeting in the Turner 
 Hall, but not before 8:30, and he was there promptly. I intro- 
 duced him and everything went along nicely. He even made some 
 suggestions. At 10 o'clock the first barrel of beer was empty and 
 the Consul was standing on it, directing the songs of our father- 
 
— 87 — 
 
 land, "Schleswig-Holstem/' ''Es war auf Juetland's Auen," and 
 some others. This caused such enthusiasm that it hardly can 
 be described. The success of the celebration was assured. 
 
 On the festal day the veterans and their friends arrived at 
 the Turner Hall in plenty of time ; they came from outside towns 
 as well as from Chicago, even from all distances to take part 
 in our celebration, and many even came at dinner time. The 
 celebration was to begin at 7 :30 in the evening, but the hall was 
 overcrowded long before that time, and always new arrivals 
 were coming. The gallery, the side halls, the stairway were 
 overcrowded and the festival feeling and joy by old and young 
 could not be surpassed. After the program was over, we sent 
 a cablegram in the German language to the Empress of Germany 
 as she had been born in Schleswig-Holstein, and also a telegram 
 to my friend John M. Kammeron in Cincinnati, who was lead- 
 ing the celebration there. The answer of the Empress of Ger- 
 many arrived at my home at six in the morning, which was be- 
 fore I had gotten home; it was our custom to carry on our 
 celebrations till the following afternoon. Our telegram to Daven- 
 port did not receive a telegraphic reply, as the telegraph people 
 had neglected the answer, but later on a letter of explanation 
 came from my friend, Emil Geisler, who had low German blood 
 in his veins, and it received a thorough Plattdeutsche answer. 
 
 In June the Singing Festival of the Northwest Saenger-Bund 
 took place in Davenport. My dear Lena went with me, and 
 I met Geisler in person for the first time and a true and 
 genuine friendship originated which lasted until my friend died 
 at a ripe old age (I believe he was eighty-eight years old) in San 
 Diego, Cal. In the meantime I had become a member of the 
 two Schleswig-Holstein societies. During that Singing Festi- 
 val, I also became acquainted with the mayor and later member 
 of congress, Mr. Vollmer of Davenport. We stood shoulder 
 to shoulder in our fight against prohibition and at my request 
 he came to Chicago and spoke at two of the great meetings 
 called by the members of the singing societies of Chicago. 
 
— 88 — 
 
 In November, 1898, when the singers here organized them- 
 selves and again formed the Vereinigten Maennerchoere (United 
 Male Choruses) I v/as unanimously elected Secretary. The 
 organization is still in existence and keeps up in good and 
 active form. John M. Kammeron came to Chicago especially 
 for that purpose and induced the Saenger-Bund ( Singing Asso- 
 ciation) to join the choruses and take part in the coming Song 
 Festival in Cincinnati. We went there and took along a num- 
 ber of the veterans of 1848, Geisler and Horstmann from out- 
 side, and a number from Chicago. The Cincinnati Schleswig- 
 Holstein Society gave a fine banquet for us, at which Mr. 
 Eugene Schuetz and Mr. Jung were present, also the editor 
 of the Texas Vorwaerts who praised the affair most highly. 
 The singers being well trained sang beautifully, and the festival 
 was a great success, although it had to be postponed for one day 
 as the hall was not ready at the promised time. Mr. Ad. Arnold, 
 whose wife was born in Neumuenster, took part in the festival 
 with us. We were there for fully eight days and were wonder- 
 fully entertained by the local countrymen, who, with the excep- 
 tion of the concerts, were always with us. When we got home, 
 all were of the opinion that it was the best celebration in which 
 we had ever taken part. The six veterans of 1848-50 repeated 
 time and again that they never had seen such a wonderful cele- 
 bration. 
 
 In the fall of 1898, the Schleswig-Holstein Saenger-Bund 
 again held a celebration in the North Side Turner Hall, where 
 every veteran of the Revolution of 1848-50 was made an hon- 
 orary member of the society to which he belonged. I conducted 
 the celebration and Mr. Arnold assisted me in the grandest 
 manner. First we had a banquet. Many of the old gentlemen 
 had never seen anything of that kind. Most of them were 
 farmers, but there were some of our big business men among 
 them, and all rejoiced about the recognition bestowed upon the 
 veterans. Our celebration of the Revolution on April 24th was 
 
— 89 — 
 
 the greatest and finest ever held in Schleswig-Holstein circles 
 and on account of it our society became known almost all over 
 the world. I do not have to state that our Consul, Dr. Carl 
 Buenz, took just as active a part in this celebration as at the 
 March festival. Here we started a collection for a monument 
 on the Dusendduevel Berg (Thousand Devil Mountain), which 
 netted about $300.00. In the summer of 1899, Consul Buenz 
 was transferred to New York as Consul General of the Ger- 
 man Empire 
 
 As stated before, I became more and more crowded with 
 society work. I was Secretary of the United Male Choruses 
 and we called a great meeting in the Auditorium for the Boers 
 of Africa. I had to get the hall and the speakers for that 
 meeting, also the halls for the great concerts of our organiza- 
 tion. Through that I came in contact with Pastor John and 
 Father Heldmann and became intimately associated with the 
 latter. 
 
 Then we planned a trip to Europe. My whole family and I, 
 Emil Geisler and wife, Chas. H. Menzel and wife, and fifteen 
 more joined us on the trip. Finally, Police Captain Schuettler 
 joined our party. 
 
 On January 14, 1900, my mother died in consequence of a 
 stroke. She had reached the age of seventy-two years. On 
 the same day, the Schleswig-Holstein Gesang-Verein (Singing 
 Society) elected me their President. Then when we started on 
 our trip to Europe, the Schleswig-Holstein Saenger-Bund ten- 
 dered us a goodbye party in a hall on Division street and Ash- 
 land avenue. Kammeron came to this party from Cincinnati. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Geisler were here already and all the other par- 
 ticipants in the trip were present. That everything tended to 
 make it a most enjoyable celebration does not need to be men- 
 tioned. The brewery had sent the beer and Mr. Arnold fur- 
 nished the lunch. We came home at two in the morning. On 
 the same day we started for Europe. First we went to Wash- 
 
— 90 — 
 
 ington, which city most of the party desired to visit, and then 
 to New York, which we thoroughly looked over. We also 
 visited my old friend August Koehler in Orange, who on the 
 morning of our departure remembered us with a wonderful 
 basket of flowers. To our sorrow we did not meet him on our 
 return, as he had passed away. 
 
 While in New York my friend Consul Buenz, invited us to 
 dinner and the evening before our departure we were enter- 
 tained by the well-known restaurateur, Luchow. 
 
 The trip on the ocean was really wonderful. We especially 
 enjoyed the evenings which none of us ever forgot. We 
 travelled second-class, Capt. Schuettler in the first, but he spent 
 most of his time with us. In the evening we reached Cux- 
 haven, but had to wait over two hours. Then we went to 
 Hamburg by train, where we were greeted by three of my 
 former school mates — Heinrich Schliemann, Ernst Sattler and 
 Rudolph Flinker, and also by Mr. Hoehnerloh of Meldorf. 
 The next morning we went to Neumuenster. The night had 
 been spent at the home of the brother-in-law of Mr. Schlie- 
 mann. We arrived in Neumuenster at one in the afternoon. 
 All of my former schoolmates who were still among the living, 
 bration was going on and could not restrain my tears when I 
 was told that all this was done in my honor. Four years ago, only 
 a very few of them were still among the living, and of the 
 women, none. We accepted invitations from one after the other. 
 On the first evening I went to the bowling club and here I met 
 many old friends, also the wife of the saloon keeper, Jacob 
 Rohwer. Both are gone now. For the many presents and 
 tokens of friendship that I received from all the people there, 
 I was able to show my appreciation later on, when the Rohwers 
 had passed on and the son had lost everything and also became 
 blind, I sent him money from here so that he was able to learn 
 basket weaving and thus prevented him from being sent to the 
 
— 91 — 
 
 poor house. Mrs. Rohwer was the daughter of a neighbor in 
 the olden times. 
 
 Sometimes we had to call on three different people in one 
 day. A Mr. Selk, who owned quite a lot of land and also 
 conducted a restaurant, drove us around one day, for I had 
 some cousins living in Armstedt and surrounding villages. In 
 Bramstedt too, there was an old aunt, who, however, was not 
 at home. Another old aunt was living in Bimoehlen with a 
 married daughter, whose husband's name was Scharfer. Not 
 one of these cousins and aunts did I find alive when I made 
 my visit in 1925. When calling on an old aunt at Bimoehlen 
 I sat beside her for two hours and told her stories about our 
 life. She had not been away from her birthplace very much, 
 had not been even in Hamburg, but she remembered me well as 
 a small boy, for I visited her in Armstedt quite frequently. 
 
 In Wiemersdorf we stopped at a hotel, whose owner, Mr. 
 Pingel, was billetted with us in Neumuenster as a soldier. He 
 told me where I could find my relatives. He had a fine place 
 and they had just had the whitsuntide celebration there. I told 
 his wife to go and wake up her husband, but she said she 
 would not do that for anyone. However, when I told her that 
 I was August Lueders from Chicago it was different. My 
 son August was playing the piano and the others were dancing 
 when after a few minutes, I heard a commotion. It was my 
 friend Pingel who had fallen down the stairs as his joy was so 
 great when he saw me. Later on I visited him once more when 
 I came to see my old aunt again. 
 
 While writing this, something comes to my mind, showing 
 with what kind of people one may come in contact. When I 
 was working for the West Side Brewery, I had a customer, 
 Hohlfeld by name, who at one time had bought a place at 
 Adams and Jefferson streets for $8,500.00 and after a few 
 years sold it for $25,000.00. Then he bought a place at the 
 corner of Harrison and Winchester avenue. He came from 
 
— 92 — 
 
 Saxony and his wife from Pommerania, Prussia, from where 
 also their barkeeper came. One morning, Hohlfeld came to 
 my house all excited and told me that his wife had run 
 away and that he did not know for what reason, but he 
 knew where she was keeping herself, and asked me to go and 
 see her as I had known her before she married Mr. Hohlfeld. 
 She was a fine appearing, neat woman, and also very jealous. 
 I went to her and asked her why she had run away as her 
 husband had been really good to her, had kept servants for her 
 and did everything that he possibly could. She replied that 
 what I said was all very true, but that her husband was 
 not strict with his marriage vows. I laughed about it and 
 said I could not believe this, rather the opposite, but she 
 told me that she had excellent proof for her assertion, having 
 heard it from a reliable person. While talking, I remembered 
 that quite frequently I had observed the barkeeper looking at 
 this beautiful woman with covetous eyes. I then told her 
 that the barkeeper had told her this to get her to leave her 
 husband so that she would be free. Finally she admitted 
 that this was the case, but wanted to know who had told 
 me and at last she agreed to return to her husband, but 
 under the condition that I should have my dear Lena accom- 
 pany her,^ for she did not want to go back alone, also that her 
 husband must discharge the barkeeper without delay. **He 
 surely will do that," I said, and went to get my Lena. We both 
 brought Mrs. Hohlfeld to her home, but she would not enter 
 until the rascal had left the house. Mr. Hohlfeld at first was 
 astonished that I acted so aggressively, but I explained to him 
 that the two women were outside and would not enter until the 
 man was gone. The barkeeper was totally crushed and asked 
 Mr. Hohlfeld whether he should obey my command, and was an- 
 swered that he had to go, although Mr. Hohlfeld at that time 
 did not have any idea why, for I had not had a chance to explain 
 the matter to him. After the barkeeper was gone, Mrs. Hohlfeld 
 made coflfee for us. I went out and got some cake and while en- 
 
— PS- 
 joying the coffee I told Mr. Hohlfeld all that had happened. I 
 gave Mrs. Hohlfeld a piece of my mind and admonished her not 
 to believe whalt every rascal would say even if it was a country- 
 man of hers. I advised her that inasmuch as her husband did 
 not want her to do all the housework alone and as she had lots 
 of free time to spare, to join one or more societies for ladies, 
 then she would have something to do and have a chance to talk 
 with other women. She followed my advice and joined three 
 societies and later on told me many a time that my advice had 
 saved her. She always was under the impression that some- 
 body had told me something about that barkeeper for other- 
 wise I would not have known the circumstances. That she 
 had betrayed herself, I, of course, did not tell her. That hap- 
 pened in 1889. 
 
 Coming back to our trip through Germany, after we had 
 visited all our cousins and aunts, we made a trip through the 
 country and stopped first in Luebeck, where we visited the old 
 church, which is over 700 years old. Then we travelled all the 
 way through Mecklenburg to the home town of my dear Lena. 
 My brother-in-law, Chas. Freese and his wife had preceded us a 
 few days. It was late in the evening when we arrived at Jar- 
 men ; through the foolishness of a railroad official, we had 
 travelled all through Mecklenburg- Strelitz. The trains, of 
 course, did not go very fast, in fact, our youngest son, August 
 sometimes could run alongside the train while it was in motion. 
 And en route, when the train stopped, I treated the conductor, 
 the brakeman and the fireman in the saloon that always could 
 be found at the stations. It was fun for me and a treat for 
 the men. 
 
 We finally reached our destination and during the night 
 stayed in Jarmen. Next morning we went to Bartow, the birth- 
 place of my dear wife. We visited every house, my dear Lena 
 and her brother walking in front, and my sister-in-law and I 
 right behind them. The joy was great. Everywhere they said: 
 
— 94 — 
 
 "You are Lena Freese ! Oh, how is that posible ? Now I can see 
 that you resemble your father ; yes, he was a fine man/' And 
 then they talked about olden times. My dear Lena and her 
 brother were so hoarse in the evening that they could scarcely 
 talk. It had been strenuous for them, and interesting for the 
 rest of us. During the night we stayed in the saloon where beds 
 had been prepared for us. 
 
 The next morning we went by river steamer to Anklam and 
 after many trips to different places we arrived in Berlin and 
 took lodging in the Hotel zur Stadt Schwerin, where we were 
 well taken care of and which later on we recommended to 
 many of our friends from Chicago, who were all well satis- 
 fied with the service, the meals and the comforts there. We 
 had left our main baggage in Neumuenster, and my brother- 
 in-law left his in Berlin so that we did not have to carry 
 much luggage on our trip through the country. In Ber- 
 lin we took round-trip tickets to Cologne and Bingen, for 
 which we paid 79 Marks. In Cologne our railroad tickets were 
 exchanged for tickets on the Rhine steamers, for which we had 
 to pay three Marks. On the trip from Cologne to Bingen we be- 
 came acquainted with some people who told us about the Gutten- 
 berg Celebration which was to be held the next day at Mayence. 
 So we went by train from Bingen to Mayence (Mainz). On the 
 streets through which the pageant was to pass, window seats 
 were sold, from which everything could be seen. Our new 
 friends from Cologne let our women and children have 
 seats at the windows, while the men took a chance on seeing 
 the pageant from the street just as we had to do. I found some 
 boxes on which they could stand so they could see better what 
 was going on. It was the most wonderful pageant I have ever 
 seen. The costumes, which we could better observe, later on 
 at the dance in the city hall, were really gorgeous. Some 
 of them were said to have cost 2,500 Marks and even more. 
 During the night we returned to Bingen with the conviction 
 that we had seen and taken part in a wonderful affair. 
 
— 95 — 
 
 Next morning, our friend, Mr. Graf, a wine dealer from 
 Gensingen, called for us and we had three perfect days at his 
 place. The following day we visited Kreuznach and in the 
 evening we took the train for Paris, but en route had a stop 
 over of three-quarters of an hour in Metz. The next morning 
 at seven o'clock we arrived in Paris, took our breakfast at one 
 of the restaurants on a boulevard near the railroad station and 
 then went to the hotel recommended to us, which was at least 
 five or six hundred years old ; the stairways still were of build- 
 ing bricks. An Englishwoman was proprietor of the place; 
 the rooms had all the modern accommodations and the table 
 was excellent. The rent per room was five Francs per day, 
 which on account of the exposition just taking place, was 
 rather cheap. 
 
 Mr. Zippe, an Austrian living in Paris, had a nephew in 
 Chicago. He took us under his leadership and showed us 
 Paris and Versailles. We saw as much in two days as other- 
 wise could have been seen in ten days without a guide. 
 
 In 1870, the Communists had advanced to this place, when 
 the firemen came and extinguished the fires started by them. 
 The windows of the place were still covered with the paper 
 which had been used to replace the broken glass. He also 
 told us a fine story of that time, which had happened to a 
 friend of his who was still living. When the Communists ad- 
 vanced, the other citizens went into their cellars, as did his 
 friend, but when the provisions gave out, he went upstairs to 
 get something for himself and family and was arrested as a 
 Communist by the soldiers from Versailles, brought to Neuilly, 
 where he and the other prisoners had to dig their own graves. 
 Lucky for him. General Gallifet happened to ride along in 
 front of the prisoners ; he at once saw that the man was no 
 Frenchman and called him to step forward, asking him if he 
 was a Frenchman. On his reply that he was Austrian and 
 had nothing to do with the revolution, he was taken away 
 
— 96 — 
 
 and after two days, when his statement was found to be cor- 
 rect, he was allowed to go home to his family. All the rest were 
 shot and buried in the graves they had dug for themselves. 
 
 We also were very lucky in visiting the Exposition. We met 
 an American jockey there, who had met with an accident dur- 
 ing the racing. He showed us more in two days than we 
 otherwise could have seen in two weeks. We wanted to pay 
 him for his friendliness ; he took no money but was our guest 
 for four meals. 
 
 In looking over the exposition, we found that it could not 
 compare with our World's Fair in Chicago in 1893, only of- 
 fered more in the electrical department, but at our exposition in 
 Buffalo in 1901 we surpassed them in that. 
 
 So after we had seen Paris to our satisfaction, we went back 
 to Germany, stopped over for two days in Strassburg, and 
 then proceeded to Stuttgart, so as to celebrate the Fourth of 
 July there. We arrived there on July 3rd, just in time to take 
 part in a meeting, which had been called by our old friend, 
 Ernst Hummel. As soon as he saw me enter the hall, he ap- 
 pointed me a member of the committee to invite the local Ameri- 
 can Consul to our celebration. The affair was not such a 
 simple one. The wife of the consul just had five o'clock tea 
 and she confided to me that her husband was still suffering 
 from a headache contracted the preceding evening. I, however, 
 told her that that would not be accepted as an excuse, for we 
 expected to see both of them at the celebration, at which un- 
 doubtedly some 400 Americans would take part, and that we 
 would permit her to make a speech in place of her husband — 
 but that he had to be there. They were there, sat right next 
 to us; the celebration was a great success. The speeches and 
 toasts were fine and it was three in the morning when the 
 banquet, and to our sorrow, the wine also, were things of the 
 past. 
 
— 97 — 
 
 We did not see much of Stuttgart, because it was raining 
 continuously. In the evening we were at the theater, and saw 
 **Die schoene Galatee" (The Beautiful Galatee). On the morn- 
 ing of July 6th, we went to Munich, where some friends were 
 waiting for us. We saw the city thoroughly, and perchance 
 met there Carl Meier and his sister, and several of his other 
 relatives, also Mr. Gauss of the Public Library of Chicago. 
 We were in the head of the Bavaria Statue, where my dear 
 Lena danced a walz with our son August, after the tune of 
 ''In Lauterbach hab' ich mein Strumpf verlor'n" (In Lauter- 
 bach My Stockings I Lost). When climbing down, August 
 Knorr got stuck in the neck of the statue and we had to pull 
 hard to get him free. We were there six days. Then we went 
 to Nuernberg, where we remained two days and also visited 
 the ''Bratwurstgloecklein", which celebrated its five-hundredth 
 anniversary. We took the plate, from which we ate, along 
 for which we paid one Mark. I still have mine in my 
 possession. In 1925 we again. were there and the proprietress 
 made me a present of the tin-plate, which they had in use in 
 1866, when I told her that I was well acquainted with John 
 Hetzel of Chicago. The year was stamped into the plate. We 
 had it fixed up here in Chicago as it was somewhat bent 
 and we use it at small affairs which we celebrate. 
 
 From Nuernberg we went tO' Leipzig. There we were in the 
 Highest Tribunal of the German Empire and against a tip of 
 one Mark my dear Lena was allowed to occupy the seat of the 
 highest judge for a few minutes. We also visited the battle- 
 field of 1813 and there saw the work as it was proceeding for 
 the monument. We went to the theater one evening. We 
 found the Saxon policemen more polite than the Berlin police- 
 men. From there we went to Dresden and two evenings we 
 took our supper on the Bruehl's Terrace. There we met the 
 sister of one of my best customers and her husband acted as 
 our guide. 
 
— 98 — 
 
 Then back to Berlin. There the news reached us that we 
 should quickly return to Bartow as the aunt of my dear Lena, 
 Mrs. Freese, had had a stroke. She wanted to leave for Chicago 
 with my brother-in-law and his wife and a Mr. and Mrs. 
 Nietering on the 22nd of July. We stayed in Berlin for five 
 more days and with our sons and Helen Schliemann, whom 
 we had met there, went back to Neumuenster. During those 
 five days we had seen a lot of Berlin, also the Wach-Parade on 
 Sunday, which is celebrated especially on account of the music. 
 We also met Mr. and Mrs. Sachan from Chicago in Berlin, 
 who had arrived at the hotel in the afternoon. 
 
 We then went to Bartow to our aunt, who was greatly pleased 
 when she saw us as I had promised her that I would see to 
 it that she could go home. How much justified the aunt was 
 in her surmise that possibly she would have some difficulty was 
 shown when we brought her to the boat. The small tender 
 left Hamburg on Sunday for Cuxhaven. A cousin of mine, 
 living in Altona, had furnished a platform wagon to bring the 
 aunt to the boat, because she had to lay in a roll-chair and 
 could not travel in a cab. Arriving at the landing place, we 
 lifted her from the wagon and I went to see how we could 
 get her on board. When I returned, I found the two women in 
 tears. An impertinent fellow, who claimed to be a physician of 
 the royal-imperial Hamburg Steamship Company with a capi- 
 tal of sixty million Marks, proudly tried to show himself off 
 and declared that the aunt could not leave on that boat. 
 I told him that he was a windbag and a puffed up piece 
 of cattle that called himself a doctor; that he was too dull 
 and stupid for me to talk to; and I applied a few more titles 
 to him which were even less flattering, and declared that the 
 woman had no infectious disease and would go with the 
 designated steamer. Three policemen were standing near by 
 and heard everything I said, as I spoke quite loudly enough 
 so that no word was lost. A man in the office near by heard it 
 
— 99 — 
 
 and came out and wanted to know what it was all about. I 
 explained to him that the lady, my aunt, had to go with that 
 boat, that she was not sick with an infectious disease, and when 
 the man heard that she was going in the second cabin, every- 
 thing was all right. We carried her on to the deck of the 
 steamer. Among the emigrants there was a young man, a 
 relative of my dear Lena, who however, did not have his right 
 papers, but who had helped us to bring our aunt on to the boat. 
 We left him there and I later on brought his baggage on deck. 
 I then found that he got on all right without papers, but the 
 Nieterings had no papers and the officers objected to them go- 
 ing. I, of course, had my papers, but never had to use them. 
 Mr. Nietering called on me to come and help him. So I asked 
 the officers what they really wanted, as the man was no Ger- 
 man but a Hollander and only his wife came from Hannover. 
 Thereupon the officials asked me if I knew him and I stated 
 that he came from Chicago just as well as I. Then they let 
 him pass. But I thought : How does it come that these people 
 know me, when they have never seen me before. However, 
 they had seen and also heard me when I pounded that foolish 
 doctor. 
 
 After the steamer had started on its way, I asked someone 
 to show me a good place where I could get a nice glass of 
 cool beer. That they did and we all quenched our thirst and 
 when we got ready to return to Neumuenster, we met my cousin 
 August Seligmann, teacher in a village in the Probstei, the 
 richest part of Holstein. He went with us to Neumuenster and 
 later travelled around with us in Holstein as he had his vaca- 
 tion at that time. His mother was still living in Reher with a 
 brother, and another sister. A few days after we returned to 
 Neumuenster, we met Wm. Gorges, who also made his home in 
 America and had come for a visit. He induced us to visit his 
 brothers. We spent three days in Copenhagen and there saw 
 quite a lot of interesting things, especially the Thorwaldsen 
 
— 100 — 
 
 and some other museums, which really are worth while visiting. 
 We also went to the Tivoli, a pleasure garden, known all over 
 Europe. Our Riverview Park is an imitation of it. My cousin 
 August, his sister and August Knorr were with us. 
 
 Then we went back to Neumuenster, where Geisler and Chas. 
 Menzel came to meet us. We visited the low German poet, 
 Johann Meyer. Geisler knew him as he and Meyer had been 
 classmates in the gymnasium and were the only surviving 
 members of that class. Mr. Meyer asked me if I still was able 
 to talk ''low German,'' which of course I could, as I still was able 
 to write it in some way. Now while the two old fellows were 
 talking to each other, I had a pleasant conversation with the 
 daughters, Anna and Bertha. The latter is now married to a 
 sculptor, Heinrich Missfeldt by name, born in Kiel. I asked 
 for permission to send them a few American postal cards and 
 also to add a few words in Plattdeutsch. This correspondence 
 was carried on. From cards it developed into letters, which were 
 still sent up to 1925, that is, I corresponded with Mrs. Missfeldt. 
 I called on her again in 1925. 
 
 Then Geisler, Menzel and I went to Meldorf, the birthplace 
 of Menzel. There we met Mr. and Mrs. Hoehnerloh. He was 
 tax collector for North and South Ditmarsch. His wages as 
 such amounted to only 4000 marks per year, but he also received 
 an allowance for housing. At Meldorf we visited the Dusend- 
 duvelsberg (Thousand Devils Mountain), the historical museum 
 there which is of great interest. I was in the house where Archi- 
 tect Heinrich Sierks lived ; he was well known in Chicago. Mr. 
 Menzel hunted for the house in which he was born ; it was no 
 longer in existence, but in its place was a beautiful apothecary 
 shop, which I found by inquiry. We also made a trip to Reher, 
 and visited the aunt living there. I helped my young cousin to 
 bring in the rye, which surprised the people there very much. 
 Evenings in the tavern I told the farmers about our good har- 
 vesting machinery, of which they had heard. I advised them to 
 
— 101 — 
 
 get one, as one machine was sufficient for three farmers. The 
 salesmen would teach them how to use the machines and they 
 would not need help, which was hard to get. They said they 
 would think about it during the winter. 
 
 My young cousin in Reher had to attend to some business in 
 the tax office at Itzehoe. Knorr and I therefore took advantage 
 of the opportunity to go along. This gave me a chance to 
 visit teacher Niemann. When the two cousins wanted to go 
 to the tax office, a fellow student of my cousin drove around 
 the corner. I was introduced to him. During the conversation 
 he bragged that he could drink more wine than anyone else. I 
 sent my Lena with Knorr to teacher Niemann and I took that 
 fellow in hand. When my cousin came back from the tax office, 
 the tavernkeeper led him into the room and laughingly pointed 
 to the friend of cousin August. He was leaning comfortably in 
 an upholstered chair asleep, and nobody could wake him up. 
 The tavern-keeper said: ^'August, your American cousin has 
 fixed him profoundly.'' We let him sleep in peace and then went 
 to teacher Niemann, where a fine dinner was waiting for us. 
 We then looked around Itzehoe for a while and in the evening 
 returned to Reher. 
 
 Next morning we again went to Neumuenster. Geisler and 
 Menzel had gone to Hamburg. After dinner we made some 
 more trips to the neighboring villages and also took part in the 
 gentlemen's bird shoot. This gentlemen's bird shoot had taken 
 place when we first came to Neumuenster. Captain Schuettler, 
 with Hans Jensen, who previously had gone to his birthplace, 
 Flensburg, had made a trip to Copenhagen and on the return 
 trip had stopped off in Neumuenster to visit with us. My 
 dear Lena and I were on the point of going to Hamburg, 
 when the two arrived. So we did not go at that time. The first 
 question Captain Schuettler asked was: ''Don't you have a 
 Ratskeller here?" Of course we had one, and everybody joined 
 in the march to that place — four women and four men. My 
 
— 102 — 
 
 cousin from Costa Rica also was with us. In the Ratskeller the 
 talking and the stories about our experiences began. The topic 
 took in everything, also the citizen's ball, which was to be held 
 the same evening. Captain Schuettler expressed his desire to 
 go there, but admission was by invitation only, and to get one 
 was not an easy matter. I knew the King of the Shooting Club, 
 whose parents formerly had been our neighbors. I sent Captain 
 Schuettler with an old schoolmate to her house to have a 
 good rest in order to be ready for the grand affair, for the ball 
 was to start with a banquet at 6 o'clock, and was to last four 
 hours. The King of the Shooting Club could not give me an 
 invitation, but he sent me to the Secretary, who had been a 
 friend of my father and had known me as a boy. Well and good, 
 he sent an equipage to our house about half past five and we 
 were introduced as guests from America. I have to admit that 
 the entertainment and everything that was offered us nearly 
 took our breath away. It was superb. For the meal, for which 
 only 4 marks per person was charged, we had to force the pay- 
 ment upon them. Schuettler and I had ordered Moselle of the 
 best quality, and champagne, but the waiters said they had 
 not received any orders from us and even refused to accept 
 a tip. Who paid for our wine I do not know. Afterwards 
 the dancing began and lasted till 4 in the morning, whereupon 
 coffee and cake were served. In the meantime, there were 
 speeches and speeches. At 6 o'clock we went home. Then at 
 noon, all of us went to Hamburg and promised Schuettler to 
 meet him in Berlin, which we did ; we were there together for 
 two days, but did not stay in the same hotel. He then went to 
 Paris and from there wrote me that he needed $150. I had 
 plenty of money on hand as I had not given it out so promis- 
 cuously as Schuettler had done, and so I could let him have the 
 money, which he returned with thanks as soon as we returned 
 to Chicago. 
 
 Now my birthday was approaching. From my friend Graf in 
 Gemmingen I had ordered 50 liters of wine, which he sent to 
 
— 103 — 
 
 Neumuenster. Our travel colleagues, Geisler, Menzel and Knorr, 
 also came and many of my old schoolmates met there for the 
 occasion. Mrs. Rohwer on the evening before the event treated 
 us with coffee and a delicate punch and the preliminary celebra- 
 tion speeded along nicely. Of course quite a lot of wine was 
 consumed. Then on the 25th, we went to Hamburg. 
 
 My friend Rohwer, husband of Gretchen Braker, made me a 
 present of a medallion, which is still attached to the watch chain 
 which my son now carries as a present from me. At the railway 
 station many of my old schoolmates and relatives were assem- 
 bled ; most of them went with us to Hamburg to bid us good-bye. 
 
 The return trip on the steamer was not as nice as the trip to 
 Germany. It was rather stormy weather and the women were 
 seasick most of the time. I, myself, never was seasick and had 
 some very interesting hours with the ship's officers. Sixteen 
 days later, on a Sunday afternoon, we arrived safely in Chicago, 
 where a crowd of friends were awaiting us at the station. 
 The Schleswig-Holstein Singing Society was there in full. We 
 were glad to be home again, but with the feeling that we had a 
 wonderful trip with many experiences to relate. 
 
 At home I had to get back into the harness. I had to tell my 
 customers the whole story of the trip, and as Secretary of the 
 Vereinigte Maennerchoere much work was awaiting me; one 
 duty was to arrange the excursion to the Buffalo Singing Fes- 
 tival. The exposition took place there at the same time and so 
 many members of the Saenger-Bund (Singing Association) 
 joined us who wanted to see the exposition. Two days before 
 our departure, 37 persons had sent in their reservations ; when 
 the time for the leaving of the train came, there were 67 of the 
 Saenger Bund alone. 
 
 In the previous winter, Messrs. Manz, Kaeding and myself 
 as a committee had gone there to reserve quarters for the dif- 
 ferent societies. We were well received by the local committee, 
 of which the Mayor of Buffalo, a German, was a member. The 
 
— 104 — 
 
 committee had made great plans and we were afraid that old Mr. 
 Manz would not be able to stand the strenuous entertaining. 
 However, he stood it as well as anyone. Finally we were alone 
 in a saloon, where the proprietor informed us that we could eat 
 and drink everything to our hearts' content and that the Mayor 
 would foot the bill. We made it as easy as possible and had 
 coffee most of the time. The next day we visited Niagara Falls 
 from which the freezing of the spray in winter produces a 
 wonderful sight. 
 
 There also we had adventure. A spectacled lady teacher, who 
 did not accept my advice, climbed an ice mountain, succeeding in 
 half way ascending it, when a gust of wind driving a surf spray 
 from the waters of the Falls before it, caught her. The wind 
 caught the umbrella and her skirts and lifted them above her 
 head. I ran to her — pulled down her skirts and rushed her out 
 of the spraying waters. The umbrella had become useless. We 
 then sent her to her hotel in a cab. 
 
 In the following summer during the time of the Singing Fes- 
 tival, the members and ladies of the Schleswig-Holstein Saenger- 
 Bund again had wonderful times there in Buffalo. After they 
 had seen the exposition, they visited Niagara Falls under my 
 guidance. Then we made a round trip to Toronto. So we saw 
 both sides of the Falls and also were on the Suspension Bridge, 
 which is the first one ever built. The second is in Cincinnati 
 and the other one in Brooklyn. The exposition in Buffalo was 
 mostly one of electrical machinery and lamps. The progress 
 since 1893 in this field was a marvelous one. We had a real good 
 time, and all, including the veterans, were very well satisfied. 
 
 As Secretary I also was very busy with the arrangements for 
 the Singing Festival in St. Louis. That also was a great success. 
 We had some difficulties on the trip to St. Louis on account of 
 the flood of the Mississippi. Some members of our societies 
 who went with the Alton Railroad could get to Alton only. Then 
 we were transported by boat, but arrived two hours earlier 
 
— 105 — 
 
 than the societies who had traveled over the Wabash Road. 
 This celebration was not as nice as the ones of 1889 and 1901. 
 
 On August 24 I became 50 years of age and celebrated the 
 day in the Wisconsin Dells. My dear Lena, Mr. H. Zoelck and 
 his wife and my sister were there with me and we remained for 
 several days. The Dells at that time were more beautiful than 
 they are today. They have been spoiled greatly by artificial im- 
 provements and dams. 
 
 During the fall I received a letter from the poet Johann 
 Meyer, asking why I had not written him of the event as he 
 would have sent me a poem for the occasion. I thanked him and 
 told him in good Plattdeutsch that if he still had such a high 
 opinion of me that he could send us a sample of his poetry for 
 our Silver Wedding, which we expected to celebrate the coming 
 year. He did so and I will speak of this poem later on. 
 
 A story of religious intolerance, of which I became cognizant, 
 I will also incorporate here. In the late fall of 1897 one after- 
 noon about 6 o'clock I was in the place of my friend, F. Rohde, 
 when three men came in crying. Mr. Rohde, who knew them, 
 advised them to talk to me. A man had carried on a small 
 foundry for about 32 years at the corner of Sangamon and 
 Henry streets, which, however, on account of the hard times, 
 had not prospered well. And as times grew harder, he became 
 so discouraged that finally he committed suicide by shooting 
 himself. He had been a member of the Emmanuel Church, 
 where Paster Hoelter dispensed religion. The two men, relatives 
 of the unfortunate fellow, went to Pastor Hoelter and asked 
 him to visit the widow and comfort her. But he refused point 
 blank, saying that he would not go to the home of a suicide. 
 However, his conscience had allowed him to take the man's 
 money all these years. Shortly before that time I became ac- 
 quainted, during a funeral, with Pastor Heinemann, who con- 
 ducted a church on Hastings street. I sent the men with a card 
 to him. He had a human heart in him and went to visit the widow 
 and also later helped to conduct the funeral. 
 
— 106 — 
 
 In the Saloonkeepers' Association I was treasurer for three 
 years. When I took over the office, the treasury was almost 
 empty, but when I turned it over to my successor, I was able 
 to deliver to him more than $1,500. For that my dear Lena was 
 presented with three valuable silver vases. 
 
 In 1907 I took part in the excursion to Cuba of the Demo- 
 cratic Club of Cook County. From Chicago we traveled through 
 Tennessee to Chattanooga, and there we inspected the battle- 
 fields of the Civil War. Then we went to Augusta, Georgia, 
 and also to Savannah, where we were received by the Mayor 
 and City Council. But as it was Saturday, we had to leave the 
 city before midnight, going by Orlando, Florida, to reach 
 Palm Beach before evening. There we had our supper in a hotel, 
 and later on had our drinks in the drug store, the only place 
 where they could be obtained. During the night we continued 
 on our way in a special train and each member of the party had 
 a berth in a Pullman. Next morning we arrived in Miami, where 
 we had breakfast, then marched through the city. About 1 
 o'clock we left by steamer for Key West, arriving there about 
 10 o'clock that night. After we transferred our baggage to the 
 steamer on which we were to leave for Havana, at 3 o'clock in 
 the morning, we took a street car ride into the country. The con- 
 ductor promised to have us back in ample time. After a short 
 ride, the car stopped in front of a place where a ball was in 
 progress. The hall was almost entirely open on all sides. I en- 
 tered and asked in German whether anyone present could speak 
 German. At once two gentlemen came to me and asked if we 
 belonged to the delegation from Chicago, which was being ex- 
 pected. On our affirmation, we were asked if we would like to 
 dance. I accepted and enjoyed three or four dances. The last 
 one was a Virginia Reel. We returned on the same street car. 
 We loafed a little longer in Key West and became acquainted 
 with an attorney from Chicago, who also was an officer in the 
 militia. He had per force settled the cigar makers' strike there. 
 
— 107 — 
 
 by having the officers and walking delegates deported so they 
 could not return. 
 
 Promptly at 3 o'clock in the morning our boat left port and 
 at 9 o'clock we arrived at Havana. The excursion had been 
 arranged by Robert Burke (Bobbie Burke), who was better 
 than his name. He had a more notable character than the re- 
 formers, by whom he was condemned. The landing from the 
 boat went along nicely and within a few minutes we marched to 
 our hotel, our band preceding us. In the afternoon we were 
 received by the President of the Republic and treated to cigars 
 and a wonderful punch. We were welcomed with an address in 
 our language, to which Thomas Gallagher, our Representative in 
 Congress, answered. Thereupon, with our band preceding us, 
 we marched through the streets of the city, which are of old 
 Spanish style, but are really kept clean. The main street is but 18 
 feet wide and is called O'Reilley street. We also marched to 
 the old fort, which had been built by the Spanish in 1518. In 
 the main part of the fort, the Spaniards had their captured 
 Cuban revolutionists shot to death; the bodies were just simply 
 thrown over the ramparts into the sea and thus served as food 
 to the numerous sharks. We were also shown a room, wherein 
 the Spanish General Weyler had ordered more than 100 prison- 
 ers incarcerated. The air was so foul in there that on the follow- 
 ing morning only three of the entire number were still alive. 
 One of the three was city engineer of the City of Havana at 
 the time we were there. From that room, a hole in a leaning 
 direction went to the bay, and those who had suffocated in the 
 room were shoved into the water through the opening. 
 
 In the harbor lay our old warship the ''Maine,'' which had 
 been blown up but never salvaged. It was salvaged later 
 on and dragged away, but never arrived at one of our ports, 
 having been lost en route. Thus was revived the suspicion 
 that the ship was blown up by an internal explosion and not 
 
— 108 — 
 
 from the outside and that the whole afifair was to be blamed 
 upon our negligence. 
 
 We gave Havana a thorough inspection. On the first eve- 
 ning of our stay, at about 11 o'clock, I observed a gentleman 
 behind my friend Kruse, who cried out in Plattdeutsch *'George, 
 come hither, the stores are all closed." The gentleman remarked 
 that these were old home sounds. He proved to be a man from 
 Altona, Holstein. His father had lived in Seeberg. I told him 
 that I came from Neumuenster, and our friendship began. His 
 name was Buelle. We were together until 2:30, in the portico 
 of the opera house, and consumed Cuban punch. He was an 
 American who had come to Havana during the war and had 
 married a Mexican woman, who, however, had learned to talk 
 German. Next day we were his guests. During the forenoon 
 he took us to a place known as "Duos Mondres'' (the two 
 moons) . Many Germans were there, who resided in Havana, and 
 partook of their beer, although they mostly imbibed in Cuban 
 cocktails. I never learned how they were concocted, but un- 
 doubtedly they contained a lot of red wine. We were received 
 as countrymen. We intended to treat the people present, and 
 twice I ordered something, but was not permitted to pay. We 
 were told that we were guests. We could order as much as we 
 wanted, but they would not allow us to pay. After a few pleas- 
 ant hours we went with our friend Buelle to his home, where 
 we found a fine meal awaiting us. His Mexican wife was an 
 excellent cook. He told me that after he married her he 
 took her with him to Germany, where they remained for two 
 years. She had learned the art of cooking from his mother. 
 
 He had come to Havana with the American Army, as he was 
 an American citizen, and had helped to install the Revenue serv- 
 ice there. Now he was carrying on an importing business and 
 also had a soap factory. Furthermore, he was agent for the 
 Pinkertons, who at that time had their main office in Chicago. 
 He has long since gone the road from whence there is no return. 
 
— 109 — 
 
 During our stay he entertained us every day and when one 
 day he could not go with us, he sent one of his clerks to show 
 us that he would prefer to talk German with us if it was agree- 
 whom we spoke English. Our surprise was great when he told 
 us around. The clerk was a Cuban of Spanish extraction, with 
 able to us. Of course that suited us nicely. 
 
 While inspecting the old Fort I noticed the old bronze cannons 
 which our army had captured, were muzzle loaders, thus of no 
 value at the present time except as relics. These old cannons 
 were manufactured at the city of Glueckstadt in Holstein. I 
 did not know this, but a friend of mine here in Chicago ex- 
 plained to me that such a factory had existed there during 
 several centuries. 
 
 On the fifth morning we started for home. Our friend 
 Buelle took us to the boat and we thanked him heartily for 
 the friendship which he had shown us during our stay. Thus 
 it again happened that my beloved Plattdeutsch had done so 
 much good for us. 
 
 About 20 minutes after we left the harbor the boat turned 
 back. The Captain had discovered two fellows who had smug- 
 gled themselves onto the boat and whom he could not deliver on 
 American soil on account of their known character. They were 
 deposited on terra firma and after a trip of six hours we again 
 arrived at Key West at four in the afternoon. When we arrived 
 there, the officials placed me at a point where all passengers 
 had to pass. They told me that as I was hale and hearty, I 
 should point out to them the members of our party who did not 
 need medical examination. There were not many passengers on 
 the boat besides the 140 members of our excursion. After all 
 had passed, I asked the gentlemen how they knew me, and they 
 informed me they were the five who had taken part in the Vir- 
 ginia Reel at that open ball. It was the physician, the captain 
 and other officers of the line, who now were in uniform, while 
 
— no- 
 on that evening they were dressed in white, and therefore I did 
 not recognize them at first. 
 
 Now the trip again turned to the north. We stopped at St. 
 Augustine, which really was the first place settled in Florida by 
 Europeans. These were Spaniards, who in 1536 built the 
 fort now still standing. I also visited the jail there. The en- 
 trance was not 4 feet high. On the walls one could still find 
 the chains to which the prisoners were locked to suffer in their 
 confinement. St. Augustine also has wonderful hotels built in 
 a half Spanish and half American style. There we also saw an 
 alligator 20 feet long, chained to a block so that it could 
 do no harm. We had been in Augusta on our outbound trip. 
 There we had seen the large auction stone on which slaves had 
 been sold. Then we went to Atlanta, where we were received by 
 the Governor. In his house we feasted on roast chicken and 
 Scotch highballs, the first I had ever tasted. We were personally 
 served by the ladies of the town. Then we went to Nashville, 
 Tennessee, where I bought some bottles of real moonshine for 
 my friends Harris, Rohde and Sweeney. I had to pay 75 cents 
 per bottle and I got them through a newspaper reporter and 
 policeman. The stuff was much better than that which we now 
 get under that name in our city. The next morning we stopped 
 for two hours in Evansville, Indiana, and in the evening we 
 arrived in Chicago. At the station my dear Lena and Mr. 
 and Mrs. Adolph Arnold were waiting for me. For Mr. Arnold 
 I had brought along 25 cigars, a very fine brand. More I could 
 not get through. In Havana I paid $6 for the 25 ; here I would 
 have had to pay more than double that amount. 
 
 Much had slipped my mind, which now comes back to me. 
 As for instance: When we went to Germany, a large picture 
 of the veterans of 1848 to 1850, taken at the south entrance of 
 our Public Library, also an album with more than 100 photo- 
 graphs of these old gentlemen and description in which battalion 
 they had served, was handed me with instructions to deposit 
 
— Ill — 
 
 them in the memorial hall at the anniversary of the battle at 
 Idstedt. Menzel, Geisler and many other veterans accompanied 
 me there. I carried out my instructions, but cannot report much 
 of the rest of the celebration except that I had to do my utmost 
 to prevent the old gentlemen from being overlooked and slighted 
 by the committee in charge. There were no veterans on the com- 
 mittee, but officials only. That made me, as well as old Mr. 
 Geisler, feel discouraged, so that we left right after the close of 
 the official celebration. We previously had seen the memorial 
 hall. We returned to Neumuenster at once, where Mr. Geisler 
 and I were elected honorary members of the Neumuenster Vet- 
 erans Society. The following year I was elected honorary mem- 
 ber of the Davenport Veterans Society and a few years after that 
 the Schleswig-Holstein Verein of Cincinnati conferred the same 
 honor on me. That was a wonderful celebration. The local 
 German Consul and two other gentlemen were honored in the 
 same manner. A year or two later the German Day was cele- 
 brated in Cincinnati and my dear Lena and I were especially 
 invited. Old Mr. Rapp of the Staatszeitung delivered the princi- 
 pal address. In the evening parade my friend Kammeron, as 
 President of the celebration, rode horseback following the band, 
 accompanied by the Mayor and his assistant. I had been requested 
 to ride with them, but preferred to ride after the trio with Mrs. 
 Kammeron and my dear Lena in a carriage. After the parade 
 was over, Mr. Kammeron could hardly walk because he was 
 not used to riding horseback. But I with the two women con- 
 tinued to celebrate until 2 in the morning. When we came home, 
 we found friend Kammeron in bed and even on the following 
 morning he was stiff and lame from riding horseback. Now the 
 Singing Festival in St. Louis came on. We also had a good 
 time there. We finally got there by boat, but later returned home 
 over the Alton Road. Senator Schweigart of St. Louis was our 
 host and he also showed us around. 
 
 And now our honor celebration, our Silver Wedding Day, was 
 
— 112 — 
 
 approaching. The celebration took place on September 12, 1904, 
 in the old Workingmen*s Hall, corner Twelfth and Waller 
 streets. In the spring I received a letter from the poet Johann 
 Meyer, asking for personal data as he wanted to dedicate a poem 
 to me. He really sent me two. 
 
 Also Mr. E. F. L. Gauss, member of the Schwaben-Verein, 
 sent one accompanying a gift of $100 from the Schwaben- 
 Verein for the monument of Johann Meyer in his native city. 
 That sum was appropriated on my suggestion and Mr. Gauss 
 dedicated the poem. 
 
 Although Mr. Gauss was a Suabian, he was able to write the 
 poem in rather good Plattdeutsch. 
 
 Also Dr. Joh. Heinemann of Hamburg, who later on edited 
 the complete works of Johann Meyer, sent a poem. 
 
 A letter from Johann Meyer, accompanying the poems, writ- 
 ten in Plattdeutsch, reads translated as follows: 
 
 ''My dear Mr. and Mrs. Lueders: 
 
 ''Just a letter of congratulation for your silver wedding cele- 
 bration. Even though I do not write it myself as I have to take 
 care of my eyesight and the writing is hard on me, I have dic- 
 tated the letter and the words came from the depth of my heart. 
 Again my heartiest good wishes for your celebration. May our 
 Good Lord bless you both with continued good health and much 
 luck and happiness for the coming 25 years until the wonderful 
 day will come when you both will shine in golden flowers and 
 crowns ; and may the Lord also bless your two dear children and 
 let them become something fine and good. And in spirit I press 
 the hands of both of you heartily and drink a glass full to its 
 brim to the happy silver bride and bridegroom in Chicago. 
 
 "Your Johann Meyer/' 
 
 The two poems are in his own handwriting. I still have the 
 letters. 
 
— 113 — 
 
 Our dear friend, the old veteran Emil Geisler of Davenport 
 also dedicated a poem to us, which is mentioned in the poem of 
 Dr. Heinemann of Hamburg. Through it we were at that time 
 induced to treat the Consul, Dr. Carl Buenz, with a native 
 dish: Schwarzsauer. 
 
 For the celebration, the committee had reserved the Social 
 Workers' Hall, corner Twelfth and Waller streets, and as I was 
 a member, the hall was furnished free. Another friend and 
 countryman, the florist Hilmers, decorated the hall and the en- 
 trance. Judge Max Eberhardt acted as principal speaker and 
 toastmaster and also gave the oration to our silver wedding. 
 Furthermore, Messrs. Herm. Pomy, Phillip Maas, Ad. Ar- 
 nold and M. R. Harris spoke. Mr. Coffee John had furnished 
 the meal, which was highly praised by all. The celebration lasted 
 till five in the morning. Captain Schuettler was there up to that 
 hour. Two hundred fifty bottles of self-imported wine, five 
 barrels of beer and fifty bottles of selzer waters were consumed. 
 Present were delegations from Lessing Lodge, No. 557, A. F. 
 and A. M., of the Saloonkeepers Societies, and many others, 
 all told over 200 persons. Musicmaster Kretlow, who also had 
 played at our wedding, furnished the table music and for the 
 dance at our Silver Wedding. The saloonkeeper of the place 
 later told me that after 12 o'clock he had taken in from our 
 guests $92, although we had enough refreshments in the hall. 
 He thought that such celebrations were something pleasing to all. 
 
 From the hall we went home at five in the morning and con- 
 tinued there with the celebration till 1 1 o'clock in the forenoon, 
 before our last guests left. We were highly honored with pres- 
 ents from our friends; we received the most gorgeous silver- 
 ware, whole sets of all kinds. Even from Europe and from 
 Costa Rica we received presents. That celebration was the 
 most wonderful which was ever given in our honor and the 
 participants still living always remind us that they never had 
 taken part in a more glorious celebration. Everything was as 
 
— 114 — 
 
 had been expected and the only thing that I can complain of 
 is that the Customs Officials here did not treat us so nicely. For 
 the presents received from Europe and Costa Rica I had to pay 
 as duty more than they would have cost me here in the most 
 expensive store. 
 
 My old friend George H. von Massow was reporter of the 
 Illinois Staats-Zeitung and that newspaper published almost a 
 whole page of our celebration. The Abendpost next evening 
 published half a page, and even the Examiner gave us a few 
 columns, so that we surely can be satisfied with the honor that 
 was given us. 
 
 Next summer, as delegate to the Bottlers' Association, I went 
 to their convention in New York. The meetings were held at 
 Coney Island. Of course, my dear Lena accompanied me. At 
 the dance in connection with the banquet I danced the galop 
 twice with Mrs. Pomy, 60 years old and still living. The hall 
 was 500 feet long. There in New York I also met one of my old 
 schoolmates, Heinrich F, Dabelstein. As school boys we com- 
 mitted many antics. Of course, we were very glad to meet again 
 and kept up our visits until his death some six years ago. 
 He was a highly respected decorator and left a very well estab- 
 lished and progressive business to his two sons. Our son, the 
 Doctor, visited him frequently when he was at Camp Dix dur- 
 ing the war. 
 
 In 1906 we were at the Bottlers' Convention in Atlanta. Our 
 friend John Ohlweiler, who was a veteran of the Civil War, 
 while inspecting a negro hut on the battlefield in which he spent 
 a night during the war, discovered us there. In 1907, when we 
 returned from the Conclave of the Knights Templar at Sara- 
 toga, we also visited the exposition at Jamestown. It was not a 
 big affair, but very interesting. In 1908, the Shriners of North 
 America and Canada had a convention in St. Paul, which lasted 
 an entire week. An excursion through Yellowstone Park was 
 made in connection with it and we toured Yellowstone Park 
 
— 115 — 
 
 from end to end. We had good wine in all the different 
 hotels. We returned by way of Salt Lake City, where we lis- 
 tened to a concert of the celebrated organ in the Tabernacle. 
 During the concert nobody was permitted to rise or leave the 
 hall, which had previously been locked. Then we boarded the 
 Rio Grande Railway. After a trip through town in the after- 
 noon, several of us visited the brewery in Salt Lake City, 
 where we feasted princely. On the way home we stayed 
 for two days in Colorado Springs, and on another day we went 
 up Pike's Peak. The next day we visited the silver mines there. 
 In Colorado Springs we could get wine and beer in the drug 
 stores only. 
 
 On that trip we became acquainted with the present Mayor 
 of Philadelphia, and I called on him several times on my visits 
 in that city. He is a fine, noble character, which he has proved 
 as an official of the Town of Brotherly Love. First he was city 
 Treasurer and is now Mayor for the second time. The reformers 
 wanted to drive him out of office because he did not want to 
 follow their dictates. 
 
 After our return to Chicago, I took the whole crowd to Hinky 
 Dink's place at noontime and showed them how he fed the mul- 
 titude there and what a large and good glass of beer he fur- 
 nished for 5 cents. It could not be any better. One also could 
 see at the first glance how orderly everything was going on 
 there. Later, at another place, I introduced my people to Michael 
 McKenna (Hinky Dink). 
 
 I here wish to add that on our outward trip we took three 
 barrels of beer with us to Denver. It was bottle beer. We re- 
 ceived it from the local brewer, Mr. Milbrandt, a brother member 
 of Lessing Lodge. He wanted to give us more, but every barrel 
 contained 144 bottles, so we had plenty for all of us. On the 
 trip through Yellowstone Park we always were together in one 
 wagon and the trip was wonderful. The entire afternoon was 
 spent in the park and in the evening a dance was arranged. At 
 
— 116 — 
 
 the upper part of the park there is the Mammoth Geyser, which 
 only a few people get to see as it appears once every 8 or 10 days. 
 There also the Terrace Geysers are located and they are always 
 active. They consist of three terraces and one is led to believe 
 that they have been created by the hands of an artist, so evenly 
 are they formed. From below not much is to be seen, only the 
 hot water running ofif. From above, however, it is a grand 
 view. We were cautioned in advance to be careful. Enough 
 warning signs are placed and also wires are stretched there to 
 show how far one may go to be protected against the hot vapors 
 and the hot water that is thrown up. At many places, however, 
 the wires are trodden down by the visitors and a few weeks be- 
 fore our visit it happened that a spectacled school ma'am went up 
 all by herself. While she was up there the geysers suddenly 
 became active and she was bewildered by the hot vapors and 
 hot water streams. If she had remained quietly at the place, 
 nothing would have happened, but she began running and losing 
 her direction ran directly into the geysers, having been blinded 
 by the hot vapors and the steaming waters. Before anyone 
 could reach her in answer to her cries for help, the lower part 
 of her body was almost cooked and so she paid with her life 
 for her recklessness. 
 
 One of our lady companions had gone up with a Mr. Jack- 
 son, who owns a number of warehouses in Chicago, to take an- 
 other look at the geysers. When the vapors came up and the 
 hot water was thrown up, she fainted where she was standing. 
 Luckily nothing else happened to her, but Mr. Jackson had to 
 bring her down. On his signal, a wagon came up, in which she 
 was brought back to the hotel. We gave both of them a hearty 
 laugh. They have been married for some time and live happily 
 together in River Forest. That reminds me of a similar incident 
 at a visit to Niagara Falls, where my friend Kaeding and I 
 saved a school ma'am from the rising icy spray. But that story I 
 have told before. 
 
— 117 — 
 
 As previously said, we listened to the celebrated organ con- 
 cert at the Tabernacle in Salt Lake City. The acoustics in that 
 hall are so fine that if someone should drop a gold piece, the 
 sound of the fall could be heard all over the hall. The concert 
 was wonderful. The hall has a seating capacity for 10,000 
 people. We were not admitted to the Temple itself as only 
 Mormons can enter there. 
 
 The trip home was made over the Tennessee Pass. Four big 
 engines were required to pull our train up as it is 10,200 
 feet above the sea level. The train stopped there for half an 
 hour. On the further trip we had only one engine to pull the 
 train. A negro, who rode on the beams of a passenger train 
 the whole night, was discovered and pulled out. We made a 
 collection for him and Brother Millbrandt gave him a good 
 talking to, telling him that he surely would be killed if he ever 
 tried such a trick again. 
 
 The trip along the Rio Grande was wonderful and the views 
 on both sides of the river great, as Brother Millbrandt stated. 
 Otherwise we had no further adventures and arrived safely 
 home after a six days' trip. 
 
 Next year we again traveled, this time with our neighbors, 
 Mr. and Mrs. Diener, to the exposition in Seattle. We went via 
 St. Paul and from there in a northerly direction into Canada. 
 At Moose jaw we made connections with the Canadian Pacific 
 Railroad. In Moosejaw the train waited for half an hour. Lis- 
 tening to the dialect of the people there, we pretty near came to 
 believe that we were in Scotland. From there we went in a 
 westerly direction and the next morning arrived at Banfif, where 
 we stopped for a day. In the Canadian Rockies the scenery is 
 very fine. There was one mountain only about 200 feet lower 
 than the Jungfrau in Switzerland. It was possible to get up 
 rather high with a carriage. We saw a herd of bufifalo, 92 ani- 
 mals in all. Also visited a lake there, 12 miles away from Banff, 
 10 miles long and approachable only at three places, which are 
 
— 118 — 
 
 rather narrow. There one hears the stones rolling from the 
 mountains and falHng into the lake. Some timid people, who 
 always are found on such excursions, were afraid that the falling 
 stones might hurt the boat. 
 
 At Banff, there is also a hard coal mine and a river the waters 
 of which come straight down from the mountains, pretty 
 near like a waterfall. Next morning we left. We also passed the 
 Glacier Mountain, where the ice nearly reaches the railroad 
 tracks. The trip through the Canadian Rockies and through 
 British Columbia is especially interesting as even on the 19th of 
 July one could continually see the snow on the mountains and 
 that was so till we almost reached the city of Vancouver. There 
 we arrived at 7 in the morning. From that city we did not see 
 very much. A lady companion had meanwhile been thrust upon 
 me, a Miss Sanders, the daughter of a man from Neumuenster, 
 who foolishly did not want to take the boatride with us to 
 Seattle. Her father had put her in my care. At 9 o'clock 
 the steamer sailed. There were somewhere near 2,000 passen- 
 gers on the boat for Victoria, British Columbia. We arrived at 
 Vancouver Island at 12 o'clock. There we were told that we could 
 go on land for about three hours, which we did. On the time 
 table two hours were mentioned. But the Englishmen surely 
 figured that the passengers would spend more money in three 
 hours than in two. After looking at the town, we took a street 
 car into the country. I had as a neighbor on that trip a lady who 
 was very talkative. According to her dialect, we judged that 
 she had come from the Green Isle hardly more than three or 
 four weeks, and I was much astonished when she told me that 
 she was born right there in British Columbia. She told us 
 much about the country. At 3 o'clock we were off down the 
 Puget Sound to Seattle, where we arrived at 9 o'clock at night, 
 and were greeted by my former schoolmate Johannes Bartram, 
 and one of his married sisters, a Mrs. Schmidt, Mr. and Mrs. 
 C. F. Dose, my brother Willy and his wife and some more 
 
— 119 — 
 
 countrymen. Then we went to a fine hotel. The brother- 
 in-law of my friend Bartram had taken care of our lug- 
 gage and arranged for a stopping place for Mr. and Mrs. 
 Diener. They also came to the place where we were and we had 
 a nice party till 12 at night. In Seattle we stayed ten days, made 
 quite a number of trips into the country, and visited the United 
 States Ship Yards. We also made a trip to Tacoma. Everywhere 
 one could or rather had to notice the most gorgeous advertising 
 and recommendations like ''Watch Tacoma Grow.'' 
 
 Coming from the exposition at Seattle, we again came through 
 Salt Lake City, where we were received by the Superintendent 
 of the brewery, who used to be employed with me at the West- 
 side Brewery in Chicago. We were treated to a meal of won- 
 derful mountain trout. From there we took the same railroad 
 route we traveled when coming from the Shriners' convention 
 one year before and went over Tennesee Pass, 10,200 feet 
 high, to Manitou, where we visited with a relative of the wife 
 of Dr. Stoll. At Manitou I bought a wonderful rug for $75.00 
 from one of the Shriners from Constantinople, which today is 
 still in our possession. My daughter-in-law had it cleaned here 
 in LaGrange by a Turkish rug dealer. She was anxious to 
 know what the rug was worth and was informed that even 
 today, after all these years, it had a value of $250.00, as it was 
 a genuine Turkish rug. 
 
 In the fall of that year, Lessing Lodge No. 557, A. F. & A. M., 
 decided to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of the lodge in a 
 magnificent manner and the following committee was appointed 
 for that purpose : Past-Masters : Philip Maas, Wm. Heinemann, 
 Franz Amberg, Adolph Arnold, F. M. Clettenberg, Anton B. 
 Kostock, John Heinsen, Daniel Hoerr, Hugo Voight, Joseph 
 Stein and Henry Bernahl, and Brothers F. H. Oswald, Chr. 
 Mattison, Dr. Carl Bertschinger, Louis Kretlow and myself. 
 After the first meeting of the committee, at which I acted as 
 secretary on the motion of Past Masters Maas, Heinemann 
 
— 120 — 
 
 and Arnold, I was elected secretary for the Jubilee with full 
 power to act, namely, that everything that I approved, should 
 be accepted and carried out. I succeeded in inducing Dr. 
 Johann Heinemann to write a prologue for the celebration, also 
 I was instructed to prepare a complete history of the lodge, 
 which was not an easy task as the minutes of the lodge meet- 
 ings did not contain much information and thus I had to de- 
 pend greatly on my memory as I had been a member of the 
 lodge since 1876. 
 
 In 1914, Judge Thos. F. Scully became a candidate for the 
 office of County Judge and on suggestion of Judge Rafiferty I 
 took over the management of the campaign, which I carried out 
 to the complete satisfaction of all concerned, as Judge Scully 
 was successful in the primary as well as the regular election. I 
 succeeded in collecting a large amount of money for that pur- 
 pose and, as a reward for my services I was appointed a member 
 of the Board of Election Commissioners, and elected President 
 of that body ten days afterwards. I held that position up to 
 December, 1920, but was not reappointed although Judge Rig- 
 heimer, elected at that time, had promised me the reappointment. 
 My dear Lena said at the time that it was the best that could 
 have happened as my residence at Ashland avenue was under 
 police surveillance on account of the threat of some Italians to 
 blow up our house. 
 
 In November, 1917, the golden jubilee of Lessing Lodge was 
 celebrated. The participation in the celebration was marvelous. 
 The success was such as I had achieved but once before, namely, 
 at the celebration of the Rebellion of Holstein in March, 1898. 
 We had visitors from Philadelphia, Cincinnati, St. Louis, Mil- 
 waukee and many other cities. My souvenir program found 
 general approval. It did not contain any advertisements and 
 I was commended for it not only from American lodges but 
 also from Masonic lodges in Germany. The celebration was 
 held in the Masonic Temple on Oakley boulevard, beginning at 
 
— 121 — 
 
 2 o'clock in the afternoon and ending at 6 o'clock the follow- 
 ing morning, when the last participants left the hall. Judge 
 Scully and his wife, who could talk German and so could under- 
 stand the speeches made in German, were also present. They, 
 although strict Catholics, expressed themselves as most highly 
 pleased with the proceedings and with the fine people they had 
 met there. 
 
 In the meantime, President Wilson under the phrase of "He 
 Kept Us Out Of War" had been re-elected, yet we were dragged 
 into that momentous struggle. As a consequence, the German- 
 Americans in every manner and form were molested and per- 
 secuted, and very frequently I was called upon to get people out 
 of trouble which they had gotten into as a result of these ob- 
 noxious actions, especially the ones who had not been fully 
 naturalized. I kept many from being sent into concentration 
 camps. I cannot fail to remark that these persecutions, based on 
 false and vile denunciations, reminded me of what I had read 
 about the Spanish Inquisition. Mr. Clabaugh, the local rep- 
 resentative of the Department of Justice, acted in a rather decent 
 and just manner, although he had to give up his position in 
 favor of a more brutal official, of whom not many pleasant 
 things can be said. My dear Lena also was relentlessly dragged 
 down-town, because it was falsely said she had helped a young 
 Servian, the son of our janitor, whose name she did not even 
 know, to evade the law. Of course I hurried to the Federal 
 Building and in plain language, demanded to know the name 
 of the informant. On account of the excitement, my dear 
 helpmate became seriously ill and was in bed nearly three 
 weeks. I was down-town either in one court or another most 
 every day, especially as interpreter, in order to help the accused 
 people. I must admit that several of our Chicago judges were 
 very liberal and permitted most of the accused to go free, 
 especially as no complainant appeared. In the Department of 
 Justice I was frequently received with the greeting : "Here 
 
— 122 — 
 
 again ?", whereupon I invariably answered : "Yes, to drag some 
 good American citizen out of your claws/' 
 
 I wish to mention here a few of the interesting cases. In 
 the northern part of the city of Elgin, in Cook County, a 
 German-Evangelical community had their church on property 
 belonging to some Methodists, who wanted to drive away the 
 German worshipers. I presented this case of religious intoler- 
 ance to Judge Scully, who thereupon prohibited the Methodists 
 from undertaking any steps against the German community. 
 
 Miss Springe, for thirty years a teacher in our public schools, 
 and a citizen for over twenty years, had committed the great 
 crime of sending German books to some of the people interned 
 in the concentration camps, which was done with the permission 
 of the police department, and the recipients thanked her on 
 postal cards expressing their thanks in the German language. 
 It was considered a crime against the Government to have re- 
 ceived these postal cards, and she was dragged before the court 
 of justice. The accusing complainant was not present, and, of 
 course, she was discharged. 
 
 In Aurora lived a man by the name of Mr. Hendricks, a 
 native of Ostf riesland. When the war broke out, many German 
 vessels, especially sailing vessels, sought refuge in the American 
 harbors. Some of the sailors, knowing Mr. Hendricks, went 
 to visit him in Aurora, where they received money sent them 
 from Germany. But when the United States entered the war, 
 they v/ere interned and did not receive further assistance from 
 their people at home. When in the concentration camp, Mr. 
 Hendricks collected for them $85.00 among his friends and 
 sent it to them. As an appreciation they sent him the model of 
 a ship made by them, and Mr. Hendricks thought it would be 
 a good idea to start a raffle to get more money for his friends. 
 So he sent some tickets to Chicago, not knowing that there- 
 by he became liable for infringement under the postal laws. For 
 that Mr. Hendricks was brought before the meanest judge that 
 
— 123 — 
 
 ever sat on the chair of a tribunal, the well known Baseball 
 Magnate, Kenesaw Mountain Landis, and condemned to four 
 years' imprisonment in Leavenworth. The highest punishment 
 in the Statutes of the United States for such an offense is given 
 as two years, the lowest as a $25.00 fine. In Leavenworth he 
 also met Dr. Karl Buenz. Mr. Hendricks told me later on that 
 they did not have such a bad time in the federal penitentiary and 
 that they had many an opportunity to escape. The official there 
 recognized that these people were not criminals and treated them 
 accordingly. 
 
 Mr. Otto Doederlein, now gone to his reward, brought a 
 letter to me which his wife had received from Mrs. Hendricks, 
 describing the plight of herself and her children, and asked me 
 if I could do anything for the poor fellow and his family. I 
 went to Mr. Bradley, the United States Marshal at that time, 
 and he advised me to make an appeal to the Attorney General 
 of the United States personally, and through some of our Con- 
 gressmen. I solicited the aid of Messrs. Gallagher, Williams 
 and Sabath. Shortly before Christmas I inquired of the gentle- 
 men what the outlook of our petition was and was informed 
 that the appeal had been favorably received by the Attorney- 
 General. Mr. Hendricks later told me that on Christmas Day 
 he received a telegram from Washington at 8 o'clock in the 
 morning stating that he had been fully pardoned, and as the 
 train for home left within half an hour, he did not wish to 
 lose any time and left most of his things in Leavenworth. The 
 next morning at 7 o'clock he entered his home in Aurora and 
 was received with the greatest joy and thankfulness by his 
 family. It seems that even the President was not pleased by 
 the action of Judge Landis. 
 
 The same Judge acted in a similar manner in the Prohibition 
 question, after the legislature had sold the people's rights by 
 its action. As it was said, everyone of our legislators, who 
 had voted for prohibition, had received $500.00 for his vote. 
 
— 124 — 
 
 How true that is, of course cannot be proved. Judge Landis 
 ordered that the books of the breweries be brought into court, 
 that every saloon-keeper, whose name was in the books appear 
 before him and placed them under bonds of from $2,000 to 
 $5,000 for their later appearance. An Irishman, who refused 
 to answer the question of the Judge as to whether he had bought 
 beer, was placed under a bond of $60,000. I went to the court 
 to get him free on bonds and succeeded after I as well as some 
 of my friends had signed his bond. Afterwards it was shown 
 that Judge Landis had no jurisdiction in these cases and that 
 he had done all this on his own initiative in order to show 
 the public what a powerful man he was. It was a time of terror. 
 When later on a report of his doings was presented in Congress, 
 it was shown that over 100,000 cases in the Northern District 
 of Illinois alone had been started in court, but that only twenty- 
 four cases ended in the assessment of a fine of $10.00 and one 
 case with a fine of $25.00. But as to the misery and unhappi- 
 ness thereby brought many families, nothing will ever be 
 known. 
 
 When that department was finally abolished, life became 
 somewhat easier. I took an active part in all the protests 
 against the Prohibition laws. I helped to organize the protest 
 meetings and in most cases procured the speakers, whereby 
 my connections with the singing societies and my office as field 
 officer of the United States Retail Liquor Dealers' Association 
 were of great help. However, there were many cowards among 
 the liquor dealers and brewers so that nothing much could be 
 accomplished. Much more could have been done if more 
 unity had been found among the people. Now, however, after 
 we have had the blessings of prohibition for ten years and 
 have an inkling of what the future still has in store for us in 
 this regard, we know that the outlook is most horrifying. The 
 great moral upheavel that was promised us thereby, has turned 
 into the other direction. Poison whiskey is consumed every- 
 
— 125 — 
 
 where publicly by women and girls, just because it is prohibited, 
 a condition formerly unknown. The wonderful times at which 
 a frolicsome, healthy, genuine merriment was enjoyed by all 
 are gone. Hypocrisy and unreliability are everywhere. 
 
 In the summer of 1921 we made a trip to the western states 
 where many of our friends were living. First we went to 
 Spokane, where Mr. Oswald, the son of the oldest member 
 of Lessing Lodge, was our host. He received us very genially. 
 He was a judge and had just tried a case of violation of the pro- 
 hibition law in his court. The jury could not come to an agree- 
 ment. Another case of the same kind against the owner of 
 a boarding stable ended in the case being discharged. 
 
 We then went to see an old school-friend of mine in Hart- 
 land, where he lives with his sister and brother-in-law. His 
 name was Johannes Bartram and he with his sister had called 
 on us in 1905. On the train we met Mr. Mueller, a brother of 
 the wife of Dr. Matthey of Davenport. She also was born 
 in Schleswig-Holstein and at that time I said the world 
 was too small. In Hartland we stayed two months and travelled 
 around everywhere possible by auto. The son of Mr. Stacker 
 acted as our chauflfeur. On the Columbia River one could get 
 whiskey in any quantity wanted. From Hartland one could 
 see four high mountains, continuously covered with snow. 
 We also took a trip to Yakima. In order to reach it we had 
 to cross two mountain ridges. We were staying at a place on 
 the Columbia River which was 1800 feet high, while the 
 mountain itself is 3230 feet high. The second mountain ridge 
 is just as high and running parallel with the first one. A third 
 ridge, about twenty miles south of Yakima, is only 2000 feet 
 high but is the steepest of all. 
 
 Yakima is the home of my youngest brother, and Yakima 
 Valley is a real garden of fruits without equal in the world, and 
 everything is created by artificial irrigation. 
 
— 126 — 
 
 On the third day after our arrival we visited an Indian 
 settlement, where all business, even the bank, is carried on by 
 Indians. We left home at 9 o'clock in the morning and took our 
 lunch along as for thirty-two miles nothing could be had, not 
 even water. When we were up some 500 feet, a real sand storm 
 set in, and though we had the wind to our back, we could not 
 see the front of our auto. With all that we had to be very 
 careful, but our friend Bodo knew, what to do. The road was 
 so that at every half a mile only could conveyances pass each 
 other. To our great luck, we did not meet a single auto 
 traveling in the opposite direction. After half an hour we 
 were on top of the mountain. The machine had stood the 
 test in taking us up there, but every drop of water in the 
 radiator was gone and the machine was so hot that Mr. Bodo 
 was not able to unscrew the motometer with his bare hands, so 
 that the water we had taken along came in good stead. We had to 
 travel for many miles till we got to a spring of wonderful 
 water to quench our own thirst and of course we enjoyed the 
 lunch there. We got back to Hartland in good shape in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 In the beginning of August we left Hartland and went to 
 Portland, where a younger brother of my friend Bartram was 
 living. We remained there for two days, then went south. Our 
 friend Bartram went with us to Los Angeles. On the morning 
 after leaving Portland we came to the Mount Shasta ridge. 
 There the railroad descends 7000 feet in twelve miles, to the 
 station, and from where one can take the train in either direc- 
 tion, upward into the mountains or downward into the valley. 
 
 After another twenty hours we came to the Sacramento 
 River, where we had to wait two hours for the ferry to take 
 us across the river to Oakland. Something had gotten out of 
 order on the boat, on which the entire train is ferried over, 
 and so the delay. At the landing place, Mrs. Riemen was ex- 
 pecting us and she conducted us to our hotel where we stayed 
 
— 127 — 
 
 for ten days and Mr. Riemen was always at hand to show 
 us the town. 
 
 Mr. Riemen knew San Francisco better than my old friend 
 Bartram, who had lived there for many years and was 
 successful in business in the city at the Golden Horn. 
 During the time that the Hawaiian Islands had been in- 
 dependent, he carried on business in great style and became 
 well acquainted with old Claus Spreckels. In San Francisco I 
 did not fail to visit the Schleswig-Holsteiner Verein and also 
 the German Masonic Lodge. It seems that people everywhere 
 knew me, for one day when we visited the State Restaurant in 
 San Francisco, I was greeted by name by the manager and 
 the headwaiter of the restaurant. 
 
 From San Francisco we made some side excursions, which 
 were not originally on our program. The officials of the 
 Southern Pacific Railroad treated us royally. We went to visit 
 Yosemite Valley and stayed there for four days. It is needless 
 to give a description of that wonderful part of the United 
 States as one can find this in most any book dealing with the 
 wonders of the world. For the whole trip including an auto- 
 mobile trip into the valley and our stay there we paid but 
 $48.50. When we left there for further south, we saw a 
 mountain afire, that is the bushes and trees were burning. I 
 thought we would pass the fire quite closely, but we passed it 
 in a circle and when we came tO' the other side, the fire could 
 be seen on the top of the mountain, coming down hill like 
 a torrent. 
 
 The next morning we arrived in Los Angeles, where my 
 brother-in-law, friend Nebel and other friends were waiting 
 for us. We stayed with the brother of my dear Lena for six 
 weeks and while there saw many things of interest. 
 
 On the trip south from Yosemite Valley we also saw the 
 Big Trees, through two of which a carriage can easily pass. 
 The trees are of enormous size, something like 150 to 200 feet 
 
— 128 — 
 
 in height. One of them was laying on the ground, the root 
 of which had a diameter of 36 feet. A staircase has been built 
 around it so that one can easily ascend it. These trees grow 
 to a height of about 2000 to 2500 feet above the level of 
 the ocean. At a height of 3800 feet up on the mountains sur- 
 rounding Yosemite Valley is a hotel, which is kept open even 
 in winter. From there one has a wonderful view for 50 miles 
 and more — nothing but rocks and mountains, but no road or 
 trail. 
 
 In Los Angeles I visited the German Masonic Lodge, which 
 during the war had to change its name and which is now known 
 as Akazia Lodge instead of Germania Lodge. All around Los 
 Angeles there are a number of chapels and churches built by 
 the Spaniards. In one of them we attended service on a Sun- 
 day, where there was an organ over 150 years old, but still 
 having its fine melodious tone. A priest played the organ during 
 the service. 
 
 From Los Angeles we also visited the Catalina Islands, where 
 an aquarium with 26 different species of fish can be seen. 
 On our trip to the Islands we saw flying fish. In San Diego, 
 where we also went, an old friend and customer of mine, Jos. 
 Graf, was located, on whom, of course, we called. We went 
 there by automobile; a regular passenger service is estab- 
 lished between Los Angeles and the southern city. The autos 
 travel the distance of 132 miles in 3 3^ hours and service can be 
 had every half hour. On our arrival we were met by our friend 
 Graf, whose first question was whether we had been in Mexico. 
 He at once got an automobile and within half an hour we were 
 in Mexico, in Tia Juana. After we had driven around the 
 town, a real nice sporting place, we returned to San Diego, 
 where we stayed for two days. There in that southern city 
 our dear old friend Emil Geisler had breathed his last, and 
 his body had been returned to Davenport for cremation. 
 
 In San Diego one also could see all the old war vessels. 
 
— 129 — 
 
 which never had seen service, laying in the harbor, and now 
 offered for sale. A real steamboat could be had for $100.00 
 I understand. 
 
 From San Diego we returned to Los Angeles. There in 
 the sunny south with its wonderful highways one does not 
 see any auto racers, for everyone, without exception, exceeding 
 the speed limit is sent to prison for ten days. While we were 
 there a well known movie star was passing her time in prison 
 for that offense, but her mother was allowed to visit her every 
 day for a few hours. 
 
 In the neighborhood of Los Angeles there is an ostrich 
 farm and also a place where aligators are raised. The 
 country is very hilly and the hills are so high that snow is 
 visible on the hillsides while the roses bloom in the valley. 
 We took many wonderful trips around the country and I was 
 surprised to learn how many former Chicagoans had made 
 their home there. 
 
 But all — even the most beautiful days come to an end and 
 thus came the time for us to say goodbye to that paradise. At 
 the end of September we started home, and three days and 
 nights later we arrived in Chicago, after having seen so many 
 beautiful and interesting scenes and doings in our new Vater- 
 land. 
 
 Immediately upon our return, my work began. First of all 
 I had to start the preparation for the coming singing festival 
 of the North American Singing Societies. It was the 7Sth 
 anniversary of the association and before I knew it, I was on 
 nine committees working for its success. I really did not have 
 much to do as I had given up my office as secretary years ago. 
 The celebration was a great success not only in respect to the 
 songs presented at the festival, but also financially. To my 
 sorrow, many of the friends who had in former years parti- 
 cipated in these affairs, were gone and many leading singers 
 and members of the lodges and societies were absent, to appear 
 
— 130 — 
 
 no more in our circles. I was elected honorary member of the 
 Association. 
 
 Lessing Lodge arranged a special celebration in my honor 
 at the fiftieth anniversary as a member of that Lodge and I 
 was presented with a gold medal. From Berlin they also sent 
 me a gold medal with three globes on it. When we celebrated 
 the golden jubilee of Lessing Lodge, I was the ninth-oldest 
 member, but now I am the oldest living of all the brothers 
 there. Time passes. How long yet, and I shall enter the eternal 
 East, to join those who have passed before. 
 
 I can say that I have done a great deal for the local German- 
 Americans, but I believe that no nation can be found but the 
 German wherein the proverb is so true that ''Ingratitude is 
 the World's Reward.'' I told it to- the officials in the German 
 Department of the Exterior and will refer to that later on. 
 
 The days come on and pass by, morning comes after night, 
 but the wonderful times we had with the singers and especially 
 at the Masonic Lodge *'Aurora" in Milwaukee, will never 
 occur again, but they are chiseled into my memory for all 
 times to come. Prohibition has ruined everything. Who can 
 celebrate and be happy and merry with a glass of cold water, 
 or with unfermented wine or coffee — when whiskey is gulped 
 down on the sly — and what kind of whiskey in general ? That 
 may be well and good for people who never knew what it meant 
 to be happy and merry, never knew the feelings of a person 
 full of vigor and of real happiness. 
 
 In 1926 I attended the singing festival in Peoria, where 
 I had not been for years. The city had grown immensely, but 
 the real spirit of the old times was there only in memory. 
 
 However, our unruly spirit was looking for new experiences 
 and in 1925 we again made a trip to Europe, namely, my dear 
 Lena, our son, his wife Frances and myself. We went in 
 company with a number of members of the Senefelder Lieder- 
 kranz on a Norwegian steamer from New York to Bergen. The 
 
— 131 — 
 
 captain of the boat came from Itzehoe, Holstein. The trip 
 lasted nine days ; we passed very close to Scapa Flow, near the 
 coast of Scotland, where the German warships, which had to 
 be delivered to the Allies, were laying. We came so close that 
 we could see everything visible above the water. The ship 
 on which we made the trip was not a small one and her name 
 was Stavangerf jord. Instead of three o'clock as per our schedule, 
 we arrived in the harbor at two o'clock. On the ship there was 
 a quartet of Norwegian singers from Chicago. There were 
 thirty members of the Senefelder Liederkranz on board. On 
 our arrival, we were received by a Norwegian general, who 
 made a fine address of welcome and a band played on shore. 
 So our Senefelder had to render a few songs. The reception 
 lasted for about an hour, but our baggage was handled so 
 quickly that we were much surprised by its expedition. The 
 harbor of Bergen is really a wonderful place and I am not 
 surprised that former Kaiser Wilhelm took such a liking to it 
 and visited it frequently. There were about a hundred ships 
 in the harbor, and all greeted us by raising the Norwegian and 
 the American flags. The town itself is wonderfully situated at 
 the foot of a mountain over 1000 feet high. We ascended it 
 by a cog-wheel railway, and of course saw everything interest- 
 ing in the town, which is one of the oldest in Europe. 
 
 It was on a Sunday when we arrived, and next morning we 
 traveled by train through Norway. The trip really was worth 
 making. The railroad rises high into the mountains and most 
 everywhere the snow was covering the ground. At 9 o'clock in 
 the evening we arrived at Oslo, where the same wonderful 
 scenery greeted us as in Bergen. We stayed there for a whole 
 day and saw a batallion of Norwegian soldiers on the march. 
 
 Late in the evening we boarded the train for our trip south 
 through Sweden to Copenhagen. The night there lasted but 
 two hours, from 11 o'clock to 1. The next morning, our train 
 was transferred to the other coast on large ferry-boats. In 
 
— 132 — 
 
 Copenhagen we were met by two of my former schoolmates, 
 the sisters of my friend Georges, who for many years had 
 been chief engineer here for a big paper factory in Marseilles, 
 but who now lived on a pension. Copenhagen is one of the most 
 beautiful cities in the world and also has many points of 
 interest, as for instance three great museums, which contain 
 very few pictures of saints, but rather many other beautiful 
 pictures and objects of art. The celebrated Tivoli, after which 
 our Riverview Park is modeled, is also there. 
 
 Having stayed there for four days, we proceeded to Schles- 
 wig-Holstein. At Flensburg we passed the border into German 
 territory. There at once we were received with the accusation 
 that we German-Americans had neglected our duty as it had 
 been in our hands to prevent the entrance of the United States 
 into the war. I had the same experience last winter when I 
 made my trip to Mexico, where I met the same kind of people, 
 who follow the train of thought of the fugitive Wilhelm, that 
 there were only Germans, those with a hyphen could not be 
 thought of. However, in no house in Germany that I visited 
 did I find a picture of the former emperor, while on our visit 
 in 1900 it was found everywhere. These so-called Reichs- 
 Deutschen with their incompetent diplomats from their chan- 
 cellor of the empire to Count Bernstorflf down have always been 
 obnoxious to me. Count Bernstoflf now wants to be a Demo- 
 crat. However, all such accusations hurt so much more when 
 one knows that he has done his duty. The sacrifices that the 
 single persons and the German- Americans in general have made, 
 are not appreciated, they are forgotten. 
 
 When at the time it became known that I intended to make 
 another visit to Germany, the United Irish Societies passed a 
 resolution of Greetings to General von Hindenburg on his 
 election to the Presidency of Germany and which was person- 
 ally signed by many of his admirers. They entrusted the docu- 
 ment to me with injunction that I should deliver it in person. 
 
— 133 — 
 
 A resolution of the Chicago Evangelical Church to the sister of 
 the General was also given me with the same directions. On 
 a Saturday I presented myself at the bureaus of the Depart- 
 ment of the Interior in Berlin and asked the gentlemen whether 
 I should arrange to be presented by the American Ambassador. 
 I was told that it was not necessary as I had been so well 
 recommended by the German Consul in Chicago. I then re- 
 ceived a letter from the Secretary of General von Hindenburg 
 that I should deliver the congratulations to him. As we were 
 just on the point of making a trip to SoHngen, I called up the 
 Department of the Interior and inquired if the refusal of my 
 personal appearance before the General had been ordered by 
 himself or not. The party on the telephone admitted that this 
 was not the case, but advised me to send a personal letter to 
 General von Hindenburg, which I did, but never received an an- 
 swer and assume that my letter did not reach the President of 
 the Reich himself as has happened in many other cases, other- 
 wise I surely would have heard from him. About a week later, 
 after an excursion to London, where we were received in the 
 most friendly manner, I received a letter in which I was requested 
 to send in the resolutions and that the German Ambassador in 
 Washington would express proper thanks to the respective 
 parties in Chicago. I sent in the resolutions and received notice 
 that the letters had reached the office in Berlin. But an acknowl- 
 edgment by the German Ambassador in Washington had not 
 been received four months later. 
 
 At that time, a number of members of the German Reichstag, 
 mostly Socialists, were visiting in Chicago and I met them at the 
 German Club, where I related my grievance to them in the 
 strongest terms and remarked that I had it in mind to publish 
 the whole wretched affair in the Chicago Abendpost. They 
 asked me not to do so and finally, after another month's time, 
 the so-called expression of thanks arrived from Washington. I 
 never before said anything about the actual doings in that matter, 
 
— 134 — 
 
 but since that time I made up my mind to withdraw from any 
 further German activities. Although I have been a citizen of 
 this country for over fifty years and since my arrival in New 
 York in 1868 I had always taken great pride and interest in Ger- 
 man affairs, that attitude of ingratitude spoiled my whole interest 
 for further participation in such affairs. 
 
 During our trip to Europe we had a few very fine days in 
 London as well as in Cologne. On our trip to London our ladies 
 had an unpleasant experience with Belgian custom house officials. 
 I at once made a complaint to our Ambassador in Brussels, who 
 answered me that he had heard of such actions on several occa- 
 sions. I was looking for the offending person on the train, but 
 when we came to Ostende, he had disappeared. Here again our 
 Plattdeutsch stood us in good stead. They talk the Hollandish 
 language there and our Plattdeutsch sounds very much like it. 
 But we did not return to Germany by the Belgian route, but went 
 through Holland, and here again our Plattdeutsch helped us so 
 much that they did not even look over our baggage. 
 
 Then we went back to Wald near Solingen, and of course went 
 to Solingen and some other neighboring towns also. There I got 
 into a discussion with some boastful Communists and other 
 wiggly-waggly Socialists, but my rough Plattdeutsch expressions 
 and my huge form of body protected me against any bodily at- 
 tacks. Two of our friends, Mr. and Mrs. Sellers, accompanied 
 us on a Holland steamer down to Coblenz. Just a few weeks 
 before, some French banditti, who are still occupying part of 
 that territory, had pulled a Catholic priest who had exchanged 
 his railroad ticket for the steamboat ride, but had misplaced his 
 passport, from a boat and fined him 50 marks. The story thereof 
 could not be published in the newspapers, and I was prevented 
 from saying anything about it, but I had the news from very 
 reliable sources. 
 
 Our trip along the Rhine was not as pleasant as it had been 
 in 1900. We went as far as Ruedesheim, stayed there for two 
 
— 135 — 
 
 days and visited the Niederwald monument. Our friend Graf, 
 the wine dealer, was not among the living. 
 
 I here wish to say that the railroad administration employed 
 more people than were necessary and everywhere one met 
 officials whose ignorance was supreme. They were mostly Com- 
 munists and Socialists, who at the expense of the administra- 
 tion had to be employed. As a consequence, instead of a surplus, 
 a deficit appeared in the railroad department. 
 
 When we visited the aunt of my dear Lena in Jarmen, we 
 were told in Hamburg and also in Neu-Brandenburg, that 
 we would make good connection in Demin, namely inside of 
 thirty minutes after the arrival of our train ; but when we got 
 there we learned to our displeasure that the train had been taken 
 oflf the schedule two months previously and the next train 
 would leave seven hours later. I found an automobile that car- 
 ried us the next fifty kilometers to Jarmen. The road was 
 fine except in Jarmen. The dear aunt as well as her daugh- 
 ter were very much pleased to see us again. We stayed there a 
 day and half. She died two months later while we were still 
 in Europe. 
 
 In Berlin we met Mr. and Mrs. Missfeldt. The lady we had 
 known since 1900; she was the daughter of poet Johann Meyer. 
 In Ruedesheim and Wiesbaden, in Frankfort on the Main and 
 in Heidelberg we were no better received than elsewhere in Ger- 
 many. It was the same story that the German-Americans had 
 not done their duty. However, we went to see everything of 
 interest and also visited the grave of the grandfather of 
 our daughter-in-law in Wiesbaden. There, our ladies were 
 chased away from the city fountain by the black Frenchman. If 
 I had been present that action would have ended in a dififerent 
 manner. All the misdeeds that the French committed, especially 
 against the women, were confirmed by the people — even more 
 crimes that had not become public. In Cologne, if one 
 wanted to cross the bridges over the Rhine to view the beautiful 
 
— 136 — 
 
 scenery, he was driven away by attacks with the butts of the 
 rifles of Black Frenchmen. I really am surprised, especially 
 at our German-Americans, that they stand for such treatment 
 and even run to Paris and are satisfied to be insulted by the 
 harlots publicly in the best hotels. The French people did not 
 get a five-cent piece from me. But it seems that our Americans 
 do not wish to learn anything and that they imitate everything 
 coming from the depraved city of Paris. That is the reason that 
 these fine people do not pay their debts. That was the consensus 
 of opinion expressed everywhere in the Rhineland and in Italy. 
 
 When we came to Munich, it was the same story. Everyone 
 expressed the tale of forgotten duty, but I did not remain silent. 
 In fact, sometimes the arguments became so fierce that my friend 
 there. Dr. Eberlein, frequently was afraid that I would get into 
 trouble. However, nothing happened. In the breweries every- 
 thing was lovely, but it was not as it had been in 1900. We also 
 visited the Bavarian Alps and the Starnberger Lake. My son 
 and his wife made an excursion to Vienna from there. In Munich 
 we also visited the museum for prehistoric animals, all of which 
 with few exceptions came from North America. They had been 
 dug up before the Civil War. 
 
 From Munich we went to Trieste. When we passed through 
 Jugoslavia in the morning, we saw soldiers in great numbers at 
 the railway stations until we got to Trieste. In Trieste we made 
 arangements that we could leave from Naples, whereby we 
 gained two more days to stay on land. From Trieste we went by 
 boat to Venice, where we took a gondola to the hotel that had 
 been recommended to us. As this, however, was filled to the 
 limit, we took quarters elsewhere, which formerly had been the 
 house of a Patrician. There everything was of marble — the 
 floors, the stairways, the walls and the ceilings. We remained 
 there for three days and four nights and saw a great deal, also 
 attended a concert on the waters. 
 
 Then we went to Florence, where we stayed three days, and 
 
— 137 — 
 
 then to the Eternal City, Rome. There is so much to be seen 
 that our stay was much too short even to get a gHmpse of the 
 most interesting things as there are 462 churches there, of which 
 22 are Protestant and 3 Jewish Synagogues — all the rest of them 
 are Catholic. Rome was really lively in the year of our visit as 
 it was a **Holy Year/' on account of which the city was over- 
 crowded by visitors. We of course saw the ruins of the Coliseum 
 and St. Peter's Church in the Vatican and we got an entirely dif- 
 ferent aspect in regard to Christianity. We saw the vandalism 
 exposed as committed by the early Christians in the so-called 
 heathen temples. Only one of them was still in existence, the 
 Pantheon, which was built by the old Romans before Christ. 
 
 Now we had but seven days before our departure for New 
 York and so we went to Naples, where also much is to be seen, 
 as for instance Mount Vesuvius, at the foot of which Pompeii is 
 located. We went to see these points one day and also looked 
 down into the fiery mouth of Vesuvius. It was rumbling all the 
 time while we were up there and my dear Lena became afraid, 
 but I told her that was nothing as it was a greeting to us by the 
 old mountain. The vapors are rising all the time, but there is no 
 danger in that, especially if one stands on the wind-side of the 
 mountain. The next day we went to the Blue Grotto on the 
 Island of Capri, which took a whole day. We then remained 
 in the neighborhood for a few days longer and enjoyed the land 
 and the scenery, although the weather had become somewhat 
 unpleasant — it was about the end of September. We also visited 
 some of the refineries where the fine liquors are distilled. 
 
 I here wish to add that during our stay in Germany we visited 
 the sausage factory in Frankfort on the Main, from where the 
 name of our 'Trankforts'' comes. The factory, over 150 years 
 old, was located on a side street. The building does not bear any 
 comparison with our Chicago sausage factories. While we were 
 there, we also visited a Kneipe (combination saloon and restau- 
 rant) on a Sunday morning, which was called *'Der Alte Fritz,*' 
 
— 138 — 
 
 and which was mostly patronized by students who had a lot of 
 thirst but little money. We treated them and they cheered Chi- 
 cago repeatedly. 
 
 Our European trip now had come to an end and we met quite 
 a few people from Chicago, but we had to board the ship, an old 
 steamer of the former Austrian line, to proceed to New York. 
 The steamer itself and the food do not deserve much praise. The 
 Norwegian steamer was much better, and the passengers in 
 general had been much more agreeable on that boat. We had a 
 nice cabin on deck and for that reason were able to stand the 
 voyage. We passed Gibraltar at night and thus did not see much 
 of that fortress, and in the forenoon arrived at Lisbon, where 
 the boat stopped and we took occasion to look around town and 
 had a good meal there with really good wine. Then the boat 
 stuck its nose into the Atlantic, and the Captain, wishing to avoid 
 an onrushing storm, turned more into a northerly direction to 
 Newfoundland, but as it happened we got right into the path 
 of the storm. Finally we got to New York, happy and healthy, 
 on a Sunday evening, but could not leave the boat before the 
 following morning. At the pier, a son of my old friend Dabel- 
 stein was waiting for us and he brought us to the depot of the 
 Pennsylvania Railroad. At 2 o'clock we boarded the train and 
 the next afternoon at 5 o'clock we were in Chicago and at 6 were 
 joyously received by our friends in Hinsdale. Two of our 
 friends had prepared a fine meal for us, which we enjoyed tre- 
 mendously. 
 
 Now we had time to take a good rest. Even if we had been 
 somewhat disappointed by our experiences in Germany, on the 
 whole it was a real interesting and wonderful trip. 
 
 The following year we attended the singing festival at Peoria. 
 It was a celebration of the Northwestern Singing Association, 
 and in the late fall of 1926 I celebrated the fiftieth year of my 
 membership in Lessing Lodge, about which I have spoken 
 before. 
 
— 139 — 
 
 Our house was in the best of order, we lived happily and con- 
 tented, when like lightning from a clear sky, misfortune overtook 
 us. My dear and beloved life's companion was suddenly called 
 away from us. We were sitting at table together in the evening, 
 when she suddenly turned to me, looked me in the face and said : 
 ''Oh, papa, I am dying!" And she was dead. Our son, who also 
 was present, examined her and could not say anything else but 
 ''Yes, my dear, good mother is dead!" 
 
 She was interred at Waldheim and her funeral was at- 
 tended by a multitude of our friends. She now rests there, to- 
 gether with our three children. All that came so suddenly and 
 unexpectedly — although she had reached a ripe old age, 71 years 
 and 5 months — we surely could have lived together in peace and 
 happiness for many, many years, because we had nothing to 
 worry about. It was a noteworthy funeral. From far and near our 
 friends came to pay her the last respects, even from Milwaukee. 
 Such sympathy does good to the heart and soothes the sorrow 
 and pain of parting, but I never shall forget her as long as I live. 
 
 A few months later, a nephew of an old friend of mine, Mr. 
 Sievers, from Bremen, who had come to visit us here in America, 
 took me on an automobile trip through Wisconsin and up to 
 Duluth, Minnesota, and Superior, situated on Lake Superior, 
 which is the northernmost city of Wisconsin. Of course, we also 
 visited St. Paul and Minneapolis. I wanted to show my friend 
 the Minnehaha Falls, but when we got there, they had dis- 
 appeared and the lake had been drained by some land specu- 
 lators. The Dells in Wisconsin also are not what they used to 
 be on account of the building of dams and other so-called im- 
 provements. The same can be said of Starved Rock in Illinois, 
 where through the buildings and stairways and other things the 
 whole scenery has been made unnatural. So it goes with all the 
 beautiful points which by mismanagement and misunderstanding 
 are lost to future generations. 
 
 The wonderful towns and cities in Wisconsin and Minnesota 
 
— 140 — 
 
 are admirable and the well arranged farms remind one of the 
 beauty of the farms in northern Germany. My young friend, 
 years ago returned home to his father. 
 
 During my rest at home, I read much about our neighbor re- 
 public, Mexico, also all the bad things said about that country. 
 Thereby I became desirous of seeing that country and so I ac- 
 cepted the invitation of the son of a former schoolmate who was 
 living in Vera Cruz. On January 23, 1928, I went by the South- 
 ern Pacific to this interesting county. The second afternoon, after 
 I left home, we crossed the Rio Grande River at El Paso, and the 
 first thing the Pullman porter asked me was whether I would 
 like to have a bottle of beer. I at once ordered one and found 
 we were in a free country where our American hypocritical in- 
 stitutions and laws were not in force. The trip to Mexico City 
 took two more days. On that trip I did not observe anything that 
 smacked of the wild things of which we read so much in our 
 newspapers. On the contrary, I found nothing but the greatest 
 courtesy and friendliness. The only thing that was a curiosity 
 to me was that in front and in the rear of our train an armored 
 car was coupled. However, I did not get to see anything of the 
 so-called bandits. At nine o'clock in the evening we arrived in 
 Mexico City. En route the passengers on the train, who hardly 
 spoke a word of English, had recommended a German- American 
 hotel, where I was well received, but not a single person there 
 could speak German, and a few only a very little English. How- 
 ever, there was a man by the name of Grossman who had lived 
 there for six years, and he took compassion on me and showed 
 me the sights the following day. He had come from East Prus- 
 sia. We took lunch in a restaurant where mostly Germans and 
 Free Masons had their rendezvous, with whom I quickly got ac- 
 quainted, and in the evening I visited the German Masonic Lodge 
 ''Ewig Treu," where a candidate received his first degree. The 
 next day I was the guest of the Master of the Lodge. I was 
 invited for afternoon coflfee, and stayed at his home till eleven 
 
— 141 — 
 
 at night. Then I went back to the hotel in a taxi, a distance of 
 about ten miles, for which I was charged three pesos, about $1.50. 
 The next afternoon I was to meet my friend in the same restau- 
 rant, but could not find it at once. I asked a policeman, one of 
 whom was stationed on each street corner. The streets of Old 
 Mexico are very narrow and traffic goes in one direction only. 
 But as the policeman did not speak English, and I no Spanish, 
 I showed him the card of the restaurant keeper. He stepped 
 down from his pedestal, took me by the arm, and led me three 
 blocks to the place, made his honeurs and said "Salutos.'' I an- 
 swered with 'Thank you," but before I could get my purse to 
 give him a douceur, he was gone. That was the main thing I 
 ovserved of the Mexicans — the greatest courtesy wherever I 
 went. 
 
 In Mexico City I felt too cold, as the city is situated about 
 7,800 feet above the level of the ocean. So on the fourth day at 
 7 o'clock in the morning I took a train for Vera Cruz. It was a 
 wonderful trip and one immediately got into tropical country 
 where everything grows — all kinds of fruits, sweet lemons, of 
 which I never had heard before till I ate one. I did not like the 
 taste. In the evening my friend was waiting for me at the rail- 
 road station. At school we had learned that Cortez had landed 
 there, but that is not true, as he landed at a place about 36 kilo- 
 meters distant, called ^'Antiqua.'* There a small river enters the 
 ocean and forms a little island, where today two cannons can be 
 seen in the swampy ground when the tide is out. They were on 
 the boats, which Cortez ordered to be burned so that his soldiers 
 could not leave him. The cannons are of bronze and have been 
 there for more than 400 years. 
 
 There a Mr. Hans von Schierbach was living, who had taught 
 five small Indian boys to sing the first verse of four well known 
 German folksongs, namely '*Muss ich denn, muss ich denn, zum 
 Stadtle hinaus (Must I then, must I then, leave the dear town), 
 Stille Nacht, Heilige Nacht (Silent Night, Holy Night), Morgen 
 
— 142 — 
 
 muss ich fort von hier (Tomorrow I must leave here) and Mit 
 dem Pheil und Bogen (With Arrow and Bow)/' The children 
 rendered these very nice and clear, but they did not know what 
 they were singing. In the evening they escorted us to the bridge 
 over which we had to pass. The bridge was rather shaky. Mr. 
 von Schierbach, who is now in Germany, is very much missed 
 in Antiqua. 
 
 After having seen everything of interest in Vera Cruz, also 
 the fortifications on the island, one and one-half miles from 
 town, where the subterranean prisons are, that is, the prisons 
 are beneath the water, as I already had seen in St. Augustine 
 (both fortresses had been erected by the Spaniards), I made 
 myself ready for a trip to Yucatan, where two cities of ruins are 
 located — Chi-Chen Itza and Oxmul — ^the first about 120 kilo- 
 meters from Merida, capital of Yucatan, the latter but 48 
 kilometers. To the first city of ruins we had to travel for 20 kilo- 
 meters by auto ; the other is but a 12-kilometer auto trip. There 
 we crossed the highest point on the ridge, 550 feet. But as my 
 friend Schumann could not go with me, he sent his sister-in- 
 law. Miss Selma von Puttkammer, a lady 30 years old, along as 
 interpreter. So one morning we went on a Mexican steamer from 
 Vera Cruz to Progresso, a town of about 70,000 inhabitants and 
 the main harbor to the city of Merida, the capitol of Yucatan. 
 Yucatan has its own railway system. The trip to Progresso took 
 two days and we arrived there at noontime. We had to take an 
 auto to get into the city. When we left there 16 days later, a 
 regular motor line had been installed and for 75 centimos we 
 could get into Progresso. During our stay there, I visited the 
 ruins twice. On one of our trips v/e went a little oflf the regular 
 route and a wonderful panorama offered itself to view. We saw 
 a pyramid 198 feet high, and it seemed to be not a hundred years 
 old. On top of it was the castle of Montezuma in a well preserved 
 condition. It was easy to ascend the castle, but much harder to 
 get down again. We camped there for three days and I slept in 
 
— 143 — 
 
 a hammock. When I laid down in it for the first time, I fell out 
 of it and put my back pretty nearly through the wall, which was 
 made of bamboo sticks. An Indian woman, about 50 years old, 
 rushed to me, lifted my shoulders and head and helped me to get 
 back into the hammock and showed me how I should lay down. 
 We did not talk to each other as my interpreter was in another 
 part of the house, but I did not fall out again. 
 
 The next morning, when we were visiting the ruins, we met 
 a party of professors, two of whom were from Chicago. One of 
 them was a geologist and the other an archaeologist. They made 
 the remark that the ruins in Egypt could not compare with these. 
 
 We also visited other ruins, including the Palace of 1,000 
 columns in a more or less well preserved condition, the age of 
 which is estimated at between 5,000 and 6,000 years. The gen- 
 tlemen explained that according to their opinion they had been 
 erected about the time of the building of King Solomon's 
 Temple. According to the Bible, King Solomon's Temple was 
 built in such a manner that no hammer was used in its erection, 
 and our scientists stated that these edifices were built in the same 
 manner. No mortar and cement was seen anywhere. Un- 
 doubtedly the masters of that art had no knowledge of these 
 materials. 
 
 We now returned to Merida and from there traveled to Ox- 
 mul, another city of ruins, 48 kilometers by rail and 10 kilometers 
 by auto. On our trip to Oxmul we passed the highest point of 
 Yucatan. The roads are terribly rough and full of stones and 
 only a Ford machine can stand the gafif. When we arrived at 
 the Indian village of Muna, 4,000 inhabitants, a bull fight was 
 in progress, and we were greeted by the burgomaster. We 
 had a drink with him and were invited to view the bull fight. 
 All this was arranged by a letter of introduction by the adminis- 
 trator or rather curator of the Museum of Merida. The next 
 afternoon another bull fight took place and for 2 pesos I had a 
 seat on the balcony between the first ladies of the village, who all 
 
— 144 — 
 
 wore gold neck-chains. I was treated very courteously, although 
 we could not carry on a conversation. Not an animal was killed 
 at either bull fight. It always was arranged that way. At six 
 in the evening everything was over; the spectators went home, 
 but returned, as they had done the night before, at nine o'clock, 
 to attend a public dance. After vespers, my lady companion and 
 I went to the church, which was fully lighted, but nobody else 
 entered. We were the only devotees, although Ash Wednesday 
 had already passed. 
 
 We came back to Merida on the following day, and I told the 
 people there that the system of boycotting by the priests would 
 have dire results, as the people are becoming more enlightened 
 and in the future would surely not attend church services any 
 further. In Merida we had to wait a week for a Mexican 
 steamer as the seamen's union had declared a strike. There in 
 Merida we became acquainted with the German consul, a very 
 fine man, also the chief of the Secret Service Department, who 
 showed us around the prison there and where the prisoners had 
 to sleep on the bare ground. 
 
 Finally we left Merida, or rather Progresso, the harbor of 
 Merida. The steamer was supposed to leave at 8 o'clock in the 
 morning, but it was 5 o'clock in the afternoon before we could 
 get on board, and then we did not receive any supper, but on the 
 next day we got so much more to make up for it. As a traveling 
 companion we had a naturalized Chinese gentleman from Mexico 
 City, one of the finest men I ever met, and a Mr. Hagmeier, 
 born in Baden, owner of a good business in Merida City. Then 
 on the second evening we arrived safely at Vera Cruz, where 
 my friend Schumann was anxiously awaiting us. I stayed 
 there for two weeks and also visited the 30,000-ton Hamburg 
 steamer San Polonia twice while she was laying in the harbor of 
 Vera Cruz. The second time was on a Sunday afternoon. We 
 went out rather late and when we reached the steamer we were 
 told that no further visitors would be allowed on board as the 
 
— 145 — 
 
 boat was overcrowded. I called out in Plattdeutsch that it would 
 be funny if a genuine Hamburger and Holsteiner could not go 
 aboard. An officer of the boat, who had heard me, put his head 
 over the railing and motioned us to come up. He also ap- 
 peared at the trap-stairs and bade us welcome. But six or seven 
 other boatloads of people were not admitted. 
 
 After inspecting the ship, we met a party of fellow country- 
 men on deck, about 25 in all, who most all lived in Mexico 
 City, and had made the trip purposely to visit the steamer. 
 They were all sitting happily at an oval table and were enjoying 
 genuine Hamburger beer. We also took our seats there and 
 asked the steward to bring us some Hamburger sandwiches. 
 He went to the kitchen and came back with the invitation 
 to me to come to the dining room, but that the others could 
 not get anything. I refused the invitation in genuine Ham- 
 burger brogue, stating that inasmuch as we had had so much 
 good Hamburger beer, it would be only fair for us to have 
 some sandwiches, and he should go back to the kitchen — 
 and I followed him, and we succeeded in having our wish 
 fulfilled. Four large plates were served and consumed with 
 the greatest delight. Then about 8 o'clock one of the gentlemen 
 ordered Champagne, and when we had our glasses filled, he 
 proposed a toast to a gentleman who had lived in the United 
 States for 59 years, but had not forgotten his mother's tongue, 
 even retained it as if he had just left his fatherland. When I saw 
 that he meant me, I sat down, and a toast was drunk to my fur- 
 ther health and happiness. Then I rose, finished my glass to the 
 health and welfare of all present and asked if it was permitted 
 for me, also, to order some Champagne, and my oflfer was wil- 
 lingly accepted. We then kept on feasting till half past nine, when 
 we had to leave the boat. When I wanted to pay my bill, I was 
 informed that I did not owe anything, and furthermore, my 
 knowledge of the home tongue was due for a reward. The next 
 day I wrote at once to my son, who also speaks, writes and reads 
 
— 146 — 
 
 Plattdeutsch, that he always should hold in esteem the low 
 German language. 
 
 Many more things were shown me in Vera Cruz, for instance, 
 the exercises of the cadets of the Marine School. Finally I had 
 to say good-bye to my friend Schumann so as to be able to visit 
 the ruins at Mitla, for which purpose he had given me a letter 
 of introduction to a friend in Zapata, a man born in Altona, who 
 had become a Mexican citizen. The town is about 130 kilometers 
 from Vera Cruz, which I left at 7 in the morning. Enroute, 
 about 10 o'clock, the train stopped and eight soldiers dis- 
 embarked. All trains are accompanied by soldiers. The soldiers 
 marched into the surrounding woods, and I asked the conductor 
 if anything had happened, but he said '*No.'' Shortly before 
 2 o'clock I arrived at Zapata. The first and only time that some- 
 one wanted to take advantage of me during my stay in Mexico 
 happened at the station. The driver of a vehicle wanted 2 pesos 
 to take me to the home of my countryman, although he was en- 
 titled to only 1 peso. On my objection, he reduced his price to 
 one peso and a half . In the meantime, the conductor of a city bus 
 motioned to me and I showed him my letter. He invited me by 
 signs to enter the bus, as we could not talk to each other. I paid 
 10 centavos for the trip of over a mile. He then let the bus stop 
 in front of the house of my countryman, showed me his name 
 on the house sign, said ''Salutos," and went his way. That again 
 shows how the Mexicans treat the foreigners. 
 
 After my countryman had read the letter, he asked me if 
 anything had happened during the journey. I said no, where- 
 upon he stated that seven bandits and a priest had been cap- 
 tured. I then told him what I had observed with the soldiers, 
 and he answered that was the time and the place where 
 the men had been caught. On my question as to where the 
 bandits are he said, ''Oh, they are in their heaven already.'* I 
 had not seen anything and it was the first time during my stay 
 in Mexico that I had been near such an occurrence. However, 
 
— 147 — 
 
 these people are really not bandits, but only poor fellows mis- 
 guided by their priests. 
 
 After I had looked over the town for a day, I continued my 
 trip on the same train to Pueblo, a city of 40,000 inhabitants 
 and 100 churches and one of which, the cathedral, fitted up in 
 solid gold and silver, is said to have cost ten million pesos. 
 
 The next morning I continued southward on my trip to 
 Oaxaca, situated near the ruins, but at a distance of about 10 
 kilometers. After I had been sitting in the train for about 10 
 minutes, I heard some one speak to me in good American. The 
 conductor had found out that he was an American and brought 
 him to me. I was really happy about it and he kept me com- 
 pany during the entire trip. He was born in the west, a mining 
 engineer for a big New York concern. His name was Carstens 
 and his father had been born in Schleswig-Holstein. His mother 
 was not German, and all that he knew about his father was that 
 he had taken part against Denmark in 1849, had been made 
 prisoner, but had escaped to the United States. I told him some 
 stories of Schleswig-Holstein. He was a real good traveling 
 companion. At nine in the evening we arrived at Oaxaca and he 
 took me to a hotel and later to a theater. In the hotel we met an 
 American professor, whom we coaxed to show us the ruins. 
 
 At six in the morning we were ready for the trip. My friend 
 secured a vehicle and away we went. The first stop was at 
 Tula, where the largest tree in the world is standing. It is not 
 the highest tree. I saw the big trees in California and also the 
 giant tree in Antiqua, but this tree here surpasses all the others 
 in regard to width and largeness. Even Alexander von Hum- 
 boldt, who came to see the tree some hundred years ago, declared 
 it to be the most imposing tree in the world. A metal plate with 
 an inscription had been fastened on the tree. Our guide peeled 
 off a part of the bark so that we could see it. Then we went to 
 the ruins, which are very interesting, but entirely different from 
 the others I had seen in Yucatan. In one court of a ruin, the 
 
— US- 
 Catholics had built a church, which had become very dilapidated, 
 but now it has been renovated so as to be able to collect some 
 money from the people that come to see the ruins. In one of the 
 chapels they maintain a light burning day and night. With as- 
 sistance of the custodian I saw everything very thoroughly, saw 
 also the large granite stones, some of which have a length of 
 from 4 to 6 and 12 to 20 feet and which had to be transported 
 there. Nobody can tell how, and the quarry is about four miles 
 distant and is still worked today. 
 
 At about 1 o'clock we drove to a hotel in Mitla, where we had 
 our luncheon. Before our table was a large and wonderful tree, 
 the splendid shaped structure of which was pleasing to the eye. 
 When we returned my friend Carstens again made his appear- 
 ance and we stayed together till the following morning, when at 6 
 o'clock he saw that I got on my train safely, and wished me a 
 pleasant journey. Right after my return home I sent him a book 
 of Count von Luckner in English, and in acknowledging the 
 receipt he said that the book had interested him so much that 
 he had not stopped reading until he had finished it. 
 
 From Pueblo I went to Mexico City in an electric bus, one 
 of which leaves every half hour. The distance is 132 kilometers. 
 On the way the bus made several stops, and each time I partook 
 of refreshments. It was a wonderful trip of four hours and a 
 half. The road rises steadily as Mexico City is situated 7,800 feet 
 high on a plateau. I arrived there about noontime and went to 
 the Isabel Hotel, which had been recommended to me by my 
 friend Schumann. A countryman from Flensburg is manager 
 of the hotel. Here I stayed for over two weeks and made several 
 excursions into the neighboring country. The first one to invite 
 me on such an excursion was I. H. Leon, the Chinaman, who 
 drove me around the entire afternoon. However, as I had not 
 received my trunk from Vera Cruz and had no overcoat with me, 
 I contracted a very bad cold, from which I had not recovered 
 when I left Mexico City. 
 
— 149 — 
 
 There in Mexico City I also got acquainted with some so- 
 called Reichsdeutsche, who are proud of the fact that they are 
 not citizens of the country, in which they live in pleasure and 
 contentment and accumulate their fortunes. They had it 
 in for the German- Americans and tried to make sport of us be- 
 cause we had given up our German citizenship. However, they 
 came to the wrong party when they tackled me. They also used 
 abusive language about the Mexican government, especially for 
 the reason that that government had enacted a law forbidding 
 foreigners to acquire real estate property. The law had been in 
 force for a number of years when I was there. On account of 
 their unwarranted language they might run afoul of the law some 
 day as it can happen and they will be chased out of the country 
 as undesirable foreigners. That would serve them right just as 
 the too numerous priests from Spain and Cuba and other coun- 
 tries. According to the Mexican laws, only a native Mexican 
 can become a priest and then one only for every 5,000 inhabi- 
 tants. All the rest of them were ordered to leave the country. 
 They are treated in the same manner as the Indians inveigled 
 into revolt by their misrepresentations, if they are caught in 
 armed fight against the government. A bullet generally is the 
 .end of it. We, in America, get the wrong idea on account of 
 the stories given out to us in order to gain our sympathy. 
 
 As I learned there are four German clubs in Mexico City. 
 However, I did not visit a single one of them. There are many 
 other clubs, not exactly strictly Reichsdeutsch, and a good Ger- 
 man school, attended by 700 children, of whom half are Mexi- 
 cans. The teachers there live together like cats and dogs; one 
 talks about the other. They are just as inimical to each other as 
 in other places — in Germany as well as in the United States. 
 
 In the government circles I got acquainted with a German 
 Masonic lodge brother, who, however, was a citizen of the 
 country. His name was Alexander and we became real friends. 
 His wife was a Cuban, or moreover a Spanish countess, who lost 
 
— 1 so- 
 ber title by ber marriage. Sbe sbowed me ber coat of arms, but 
 said — sbe spoke a Httle EngHsb — ''wbat use do I bave of a title 
 if I do not bave tbe means to live accordingly/' But, sbe said, 
 wbat is more important, I can make good pancakes. Tbat pleased 
 me very mucb and I gave ber my compliments accordingly, and 
 in tbe evening I bad a feast of tbe finest potato pancakes, made 
 by berself. Twice after tbat I was bonored in tbis way witb 
 tbese fine bome-made potato pancakes. Sbe and ber busband, 
 wbo was born in Mayance, accompanied me to tbe station wben I 
 left Mexico City. 
 
 I again visited tbe German Masonic Lodge and saw tbe second 
 degree conferred upon a candidate. However, I was really sick. 
 Tbe Master visited me twice, and bis wife several times pre- 
 pared soup for me. Inasmucb as Mr. Stark, tbe Master, was 
 busily engaged witb lodge and otber affairs, be sent tbe Secre- 
 tary, Brotber Alexander, to take care of me. 
 
 I bad made arrangements witb tbe Secretary of President 
 Calles to meet tbe President personally, but found tbat be witb 
 tbe American Ambassador bad gone to tbe bacienda of tbe Presi- 
 dent's son in tbe State of Vera Cruz, and would not return before 
 tbe end of tbe Easter bolidays or in about twenty days. Brotber 
 Alexander wanted to keep me in Mexico City until tbat time, but 
 I did not care to stay any longer. Tbe same evening I received 
 a special letter from President Calles tbat be would receive me 
 on April 14tb, but I left on tbe second day after receiving tbe 
 letter, after I bad seen a real bull figbt in tbe capital of tbe coun- 
 try in company witb Brotber Alexander. 
 
 Upon arriving bome, I sent a special letter to President Calles, 
 in wbicb I tbanked bim for tbe many courtesies sbown me by 
 tbe citizens of our neigbbor republic. I received an answer later 
 on personally signed by President Calles, wbicb is wortb more 
 to me tban if I bad been received in audience by bim. 
 
 During my stay in Mexico I went to see tbe Suburb Guada- 
 loupe all alone. Tbere I met a lady wbo asked me if I knew her 
 
— 151 — 
 
 cousin in Chicago. I answered the lady who was 78 years old, 
 that I had known him very well, and that he already had passed 
 to the Great Beyond. 
 
 My Chinese friend, Mr. I. H. Leon, called to take me for an 
 automobile tour once more to show me a park of beautiful 
 evergreen trees, which were all trimmed into different shapes. 
 Brother Stark also took me out for two days and we visited the 
 Great Sun Pyramid and everything around there, where also a 
 Ratskeller had been established. The route to the Moon Pyra- 
 mid was too rough, but we saw other pyramids around there, 
 all of which are located within a radius of from 20 to 40 kilo- 
 meters of Mexico City, and the place to which Cortez had with- 
 drawn, and where, it is said, he sat and cried all night long. 
 Mexico City is undoubtedly the finest city of our continent; it 
 has a million inhabitants, is situated high and dry in a valley 
 surrounded by higher mountains. 
 
 Four days before Easter I went north and on the afternoon 
 of the second day I arrived in San Antonio, Texas, and looked 
 around the town in a taxi. I saw everything of interest there 
 and left in the night for New Orleans, where I had not been 
 since 1890. At the railway station I was met by Mrs. Calvin. 
 She had lived in our house in Chicago for five years while her 
 husband was living. I was glad to meet her. I stayed in New 
 Orleans for four days and on Easter day I took part in the Easter 
 celebration of the Knights Templars, which was held in a great 
 synagogue. I took Mrs. Calvin along. I was admitted free after 
 T had identified myself as a Knight Templar. 
 
 The youngest daughter of Mrs. Calvin celebrated her birthday 
 on the following Tuesday and I had to stay for the celebration. 
 The family presented me with an Easter Hare which I took 
 along to give to my youngest grandchild upon my arrival home. 
 
 Thursday evening I arrived in Chicago over the Alton Road, 
 heartily received by the whole family, and I was glad to be home 
 again after the three months* journey. 
 
— 152 — 
 
 But then the consequences of the long and interesting trip 
 manifested themselves and it took weeks before I could recu- 
 perate from the strenuous life I had led. My good friend Kin- 
 neke then invited me to the singing festival in Milwaukee, which 
 was held in June. He had secured tickets for me for the evening 
 concerts. 
 
 Since then I have stayed home, and on Friday, August 24th, I 
 celebrated my 75th birthday. A number of my friends appeared 
 to celebrate with me, mostly ladies, and among them Mrs. Stef- 
 fen, who, with her parents, had left the old home town on the 
 same boat with us from Neumuenster. She is an aunt of Hugo 
 Arnold, who furnished the fine roast for our feast, I still had 
 24 bottles of Ruedesheimer, imported by me, which had not been 
 consumed at our silver wedding anniversary. I had preserved 
 it to be used at our golden wedding anniversary. That and other 
 good wines were consumed that evening. Flowers galore were 
 presented to me. From Lessing Lodge, 15 members were present 
 who brought me a bouquet of seventy-five fine roses. With 
 these flowers I decorated the grave of my dear Lena the follow- 
 ing day. 
 
 But now I will close. I gave my life's history as short as pos- 
 sible and mentioned but few names as otherwise it would have 
 led too far. 
 
 At my birthday celebration, many fine speeches were made by 
 Felix von Wysow, Ludwig Hess, Joseph Stein, Anton Kostock, 
 E. C. Wirth, Herman Grau and others, in which they pointed to 
 the rarity of such an occasion. Daddy Grohbecker and Mrs. 
 Bock rendered some selections. Telegrams and letters had ar- 
 rived from everywhere all over the United States, Mexico and 
 Germany, and even from Denmark, and were read at the festival 
 table. The celebration was a simple and beautiful one and my 
 dear daughter-in-law was lauded for the fine feast that was 
 served and the general opinion was that another such festival 
 
— 153 — 
 
 should be arranged soon. Maybe another opportunity will arise 
 for such an event. 
 
 From our friend, the youngest daughter of the celebrated 
 Low German Poet, Johann Meyer, Mrs. Bertha Missfeldt, I 
 received a tapestry piece embroidered in the colors of Schleswig- 
 Holstein by her own hands and accompanied by an appropriate 
 verse. 
 
 TRIP TO SINGING FESTIVAL AT NEW ORLEANS 
 IN THE YEAR 1890 
 
 I find that I should describe the trip to the Singing Festival in 
 New Orleans more in detail. That festival was in so far different 
 from other celebrations as the Mardi Gras celebration followed 
 immediately afterwards, surely interesting for the participants. 
 The fare on the railroad amounted to only $10, but for the 
 sleepers $5 extra. I had advised our singers to take the women 
 along, but my suggestion was voted down. I then made the re- 
 mark that they should look out for a surprise. From Chicago we 
 left in two extra trains, one for the singers and the other occu- 
 pied by their friends and the women folks. I, with my dear Lena, 
 was in the second train, the first great trip we were undertaking. 
 
 The trip to New Orleans was by way of Cincinnati. On the 
 train of the singers, the well known restaurant keeper William 
 Jung acted as caterer. He had an express car arranged as a 
 kitchen and dining room and also had provided all kinds of 
 drinks. We in the second train had to take care of ourselves. 
 My dear Lena had provided sufficiently for eating purposes and 
 we also had a case of bottle beer and very good Port wine, which 
 had been given me by one of our customers. This, of course, 
 proved welcome to our women in the sleeping compartments, so 
 that I could hardly save a single bottle for the return trip. 
 
 In Cincinnati the train was late and at the stations where we 
 should have found the opportunity to have something to eat, we 
 could not get anything as they had no information of the extra 
 train. I then bought a coffee pot and a cup and coflfee, of course, 
 
— 154 — 
 
 so that our women could get something warm to drink. The men 
 got along with beer and butter and bread. The next morning 
 when we came to Birmingham, I jumped off the train, took 
 charge of the dining room and did not let anyone enter unless 
 he belonged to our party. There we had a good breakfast for 
 50 cents. When we thought the train would start again, we 
 heard that the first train had met with an accident and we would 
 have to wait four or five hours. The conductor and the other 
 man employed by Mr. Jung had been killed, and Mr. Jung and 
 two other men had been injured. In the evening we came up to 
 the first train. A lady in our party had been crying the whole 
 afternoon, clamoring that she knew that her husband had met 
 with an accident. I forced her husband to leave his card table 
 to convince his good wife that he still was among the living and 
 that her crying had been needless. 
 
 The next morning at 6 o'clock we arrived at New Orleans 
 and were received with music and song. When they found out 
 that we were not the singers, the reception committee ran away. 
 I had an altercation with a cabby, who demanded $5 to take us 
 to our friend's home. I convinced him, however, that he could 
 not take advantage of us. I saw a street car approaching, which, 
 however, went in the opposite direction, but only for a short 
 distance. But the street car brought us to the desired address, 
 where our friends were at work preparing breakfast for us. 
 
 New Orleans proved to be a very lively town, where all kinds 
 of entertainment could be had. Everywhere the people were very 
 hospitable and the saloons were open day and night. When the 
 singers took in the sights at night, we went to three places, where 
 under police supervision Can Can was danced. We had oysters 
 seven times. Mr. Pomy was the leader and I acted as rear guard 
 so that nobody got lost. 
 
 My dear Lena and I had the time of our lives. The brewery 
 had given me $200 for spending money as quite a few of our 
 customers had made the trip to the singing festival, for instance, 
 
— 155 — 
 
 Henry Zoelck and John Dopp, with whom we were close friends. 
 We of course went sight-seeing in the neighborhood and saw the 
 old Spanish fort Alziero and made a trip to Lake Ponchartrain. 
 
 After the singing festival had come to an end with a great 
 picnic, the celebrated Professor Hanno Deiler acted as chairman 
 as he was President of the North American Singing Associa- 
 tion — ^most of the participants stayed over for the Mardi Gras. 
 That was the life. Everybody ran around in false faces and in 
 fancy masquerade dresses — and then the shows and the parades. 
 Our room was on a street where we could see everything. Later 
 we went to the overcrowded ball room, where the grandeur of 
 the costumes was beyond description. It was claimed that every- 
 thing was as beautiful as the Carnival at Cologne. 
 
 After Mardi Gras was over, we went to Chattanooga, where 
 we stayed for two days and viewed the battle grounds of Look- 
 out Mountain, then left for home, being well pleased with the 
 historic town of New Orleans.