According to the story my dad told me, in 1856 my great-great aunt, Margarethe Holzschuh, threw caution to the wind. At age 31, with zero prospects for marriage in her village of Geisfeld, Bavaria, she signed a contract to emigrate to America as what later would be called a mail order bride.
After a grueling 14-week journey across the Atlantic Ocean and half of North America, she and her brother, John George, and his fiancé, Anna Maria, arrived in the Town of Lima, Sheboygan County. I can’t help but wonder what that moment was like when Margarethe and her prospective husband, Johann Walter, met for the first time. Did she use my cast iron pot to make him a nice dinner? The romantic in me hopes so.
Margarethe already knew from their correspondence that Johann was definitely husband material. At first sight, she had to be pleased. He was 25 years old; 5 feet, 4 inches tall, with hazel eyes, black hair, and a swarthy complexion. She described him to her mother as gut aussehend (good looking).
He’d come to America from Darmstadt a year earlier, traveling with his sister Elizabeth who was eloping. Yes, Johann was a decent fellow, so why not? Besides, to refuse his proposal would require her to reimburse him for her passage, not to mention that her biological clock was ticking loudly. Within days, she said the vows and signed the documents that yoked her to a virtual stranger.
It turned out to be a good match. Except for Sundays, the couple’s days consisted of hard labor from dawn to dusk. Working as a team, they prospered beyond their wildest dreams. By 1862, they owned a large beautiful farm. Still, there was a deep hole in their lives, a void that most certainly made Magarethe’s heart ache. She was barren, a consummate failure for a woman in those days.
Unable to understand why God was punishing them by withholding children, Johann had another nagging concern. He was following the national news via Die Seebote, a German newspaper published in Milwaukee. The paper was filled with stories about the bloody war between the states that Abraham Lincoln’s generals appeared to be losing. The editor routinely derided Lincoln, accusing him of using immigrants as cannon fodder in his war against slavery. Johann knew well his old country’s history. Had he traded civil unrest in Germany for civil war in America?
At first, he brushed aside his fears. More than enough men were volunteering to fill Wisconsin’s quota. Then the horrors of war lessened previous enthusiasm. In what became the nation’s first federal draft, Secretary of War Stanton notified Wisconsin Gov. Salomon that all able-bodied males between the ages of 18 and 40 must register. At the same time, Stanton demanded 50,000 additional Wisconsin recruits. How the governor got them, well, that was his problem.
Overall, Wisconsin was devoted to the Union cause, but anti-war sentiment was fierce in southeastern counties like Sheboygan where a large number of Germans had settled. A German immigrant himself, Salomon could not understand why his fellow immigrants would go so far as to forego intended U.S. citizenship to avoid military service, or why those like Johann who already held citizenship were desperate to avoid serving their adopted country.
There were the usual means of draft-dodging such as medical deferments. One creative method that was very popular involved volunteer firefighters. These men were considered essential in their local communities and thus exempt from service. Unsurprisingly, the number of fire department volunteers skyrocketed. The pattern was so pervasive that the governor was forced to deny exemptions to those not on fire department rosters prior to Stanton’s announcement of the draft.
As far as Johann was concerned, he was not about to enlist, especially when Margarethe came to him with the news. She was pregnant. Fully believing it was a miracle, on Jan. 16, 1864, she gave birth to a baby girl they named Margaretha. At age 39 she had finally found her happily ever after. Sadly, happily-ever-after lasted less than a year.
The following November, Johann got a telegram. He had been selected for military service and assigned to Company D13, Wisconsin Infantry. Margarethe was inconsolable. This was far worse than leaving Bavaria. Johann petitioned the local Draft Board for an exemption. How was his wife, who had never completely recovered from childbirth, to care for their daughter and run the farm alone? His appeal was flatly denied. On Dec. 4, 1864, Margarethe bid Johann goodbye, completely convinced she would never see him again. She was not wrong.
(To be continued)
Kathleen Marsh is a lifelong educator, writer, and community advocate. She has published eight books, four on the history of Townsend, where she and husband Jon are happily retired on the beautiful Townsend Flowage.
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