II. Free of the Eagle’s Claws

Fort Wayne, October 23, 1865

We have spent 15 days in the new homeland. But once more I must return to the Eagle to narrate for you the last and the best.

It was late on [Saturday] September 30 when the pilot came on board. That was a jubilation! Now the voyagers seemed to form one great family. It was the same joy which beamed out of all eyes, the same prayer of thanksgiving, which rose from many hearts heavenward. Have you stood as a child before locked doors as your mother decorated the Christmas tree? Do you remember the joy when the door was suddenly opened, when you saw the pine needles, bright lights and the dancing shadows on the wall? So it was for us at heart when the small, versatile pilot’s boat sailed toward us. And when we then the next morning — it was Sunday [October 1, 1865] — spied land, it was as if we were escorted into the Christmas room. Unable to speak a word, we stood and looked at the distant hills which towered upward out of the water. The morning wind blew cold behind us; the sun rose from our old homeland. A tear pressed into our eye. Did the tear flow because of the old home or the new? The sun rose higher and we drew closer and closer to land. Ever louder and ever livelier the joy grew — as the joy of children, when they view the beautiful gifts of the Christ child, always finding something newer and more beautiful!

The shores appeared ever more glorious — the hills with their trees, gorgeous but strange, the valleys with charming homes in the style of Switzerland. Such a sight doesn’t allow itself to be painted with the pen.

At 2 in the afternoon we were before New York. A steamer had towed us in. We were still more than an hour from land, from the spot where we would anchor. Here also we had a grand view. The homes built out to the water’s edge; the city spread out in immense distance before us. Towers without number reared up over the rows of houses. Things were alive all around us with vessels of all kinds. Up the river a bit, steam ships went every five minutes toward Brooklyn, a suburb lying in hills greenly. We saw two large immigrant ships coming from Hamburg. Warships lay still. English merchant ships came and went; canoes without number crossed — swift as an arrow and agile. That was life and activity on the water.

The doctor came on board; the police and tax officers followed. We were not permitted to land because it was Sunday. I could no longer take it on board. Toward 4 o’clock I went with my Wilhelm and took one of the many canoes to the city. In vain I looked for acquaintances, finally finding a Mr. Auger [could be Anger?], with whom I had done business. The friendly man invited me to stay with him — my whole family included — because a person was cheated so awfully in the inn. He led us to many an acquaintance and kept us overnight. My leg hurt me badly and long afterward caused me difficulties.

As I returned to the Eagle on Monday morning [October 2, 1865], the steamer which brought immigrants and their baggage to Castle Garden lay at anchor alongside. My wife and children stood behind the tax office waving. On board it was like a beehive when the swarm leaves. Running and pushing, packing and dragging, and had been so all night. Only a few had gone to bed. I was barely on deck when an officer stepped up to me and hastily asked my name. “From Dorum?” he asked further. I had barely said “Yes” when we clasped arms. It was my cousin, my real cousin. Over and over we embraced and kissed each other. He greeted my wife and children, asked about his son who was attending school in Bremerhaven, asked about aged parents and brothers and sisters. There were questions, there was talking, a joy which I cannot describe. All inconveniences of the journey, all sufferings, all anger was forgotten. The saying had come true in this instance also: If it has a good ending, all is well.

It was cousin Mueller who so easily and surely freed me from the claws of the Eagle. In all matters, the officers and officials were helpful. From Castle Garden my faithful cousin — he himself had to leave — gave us to a colleague, H. Franks, a trustworthy German and reliable leader, who guided us through the crowds and the confusion of the streets. Just the same, it was a struggle all the way. All, even the children, had their hands and arms full of baggage. I had to watch constantly that none of the small ones would be lost or would stray among the many criss-crossing and chasing wagons. Whenever we had to cross a street, it was a pushing. If we went slowly, we would no doubt be addressed by pickpockets: “How do you like it in America?” or some such question.

We rode a good distance on the streetcar, drawn by a horse, which may be found on the main thoroughfares of all larger cities. We had to pass through several side streets and finally arrived safely, if unusually fatigued and sweating, at the home of Mr. Auger. We were received with great friendliness by him and his whole family. Sometime, on the last day, the Lord will say to them: “I was a stranger and you took me in.” The old German hospitality — one finds it even in America. The Lord has so led us up to now that we have always found a hospitable reception with dear people.

During the time in which I transacted my business matters, my wife and children remained quietly with the Augers. Only Wilhelm was my constant companion. It was a good houseful when I returned home that evening. Augers with seven children, an aged mother, a maid, and all of us in addition. But you don’t know the narrow houses of New York and can have no idea of the bustling throng. Perhaps, when I tell you that we eleven all slept in one single room. There was but one bed in it, but three sacks filled with straw and our woolen covers. My dear old mother would have said, “It’s so low German.” So it is — but it passed and passed right well. With a cheerful heart, much inconvenience is bearable — and in comparison with the mattresses on board ship, the sacks of straw were soft and comfortable.

H. Birkner was very helpful in my business matters with great pleasure and self-denial. I had been referred to him by Friend S. But with the rich merchants, hailing from Bremen, from whom I picked up my money, how did things fare? They showed a very friendly face, squeezed my hand to be sure. But such a handshake cost me a lot of money. They deducted one percent of my money — commission, provision, staffing, and however the brokerage fees may be called, in addition. The House of Bremen had not given me exchange, but only a statement of my money, so I could not complain. The charges for stamping, which we had wanted to save, I had to pay anyway. I warn everyone against exchange. Take your money along in bonds or in cash, then you need not allow yourself to be taken advantage of.

Dear reader, one thing I would like to describe to you: Central Park, a garden large by many miles, in New York. It is of a different kind than the zoological garden in Hamburg, which cannot be compared with Central Park. But my time is short.