Memories of My Life in the Old and the New World The Autobiography of Heinrich von Struve 1812 – 1895 Translation sponsored by Dan Struve and F. W. Struve Text prepared by Barry Kirkland Formatted by Kenneth W. Fuchs 2001; Revised December 2013 Heinrich von Struve, c. 1890 Photo taken in Eisenach, Germany Wilhelm Amand Struve (1838-1902), oldest son of Heinrich von Struve CONTENTS PART ONE : The Parents’ House — in Russian Service. 1 At the University — Agricultural Studies — My Own Home – until 1848. 11 Emigration — Settling in Texas. 21 The New Home — Problematic Existence!.. 27 The Trader — Hard Days — Good Neighbors. 32 Another Start — Natural Science — Meetings. 35 Life on the Farm — Several Types of People. 39 Old Friends — the Tonkowa Indians. 45 Difficult Journeys.. 48 Neighborly Contact — the Animals.. 51 A New Friend — the Camp Meeting.. 54 An Unsuccessful Experiment.. 57 Return.................................................................... 60 New Experiments — in Rheinfelden. 65 To Texas for the Second Time.. 68 To Brazil. 73 Life in Brazil — Visit at the Palace of the Emperor, Dom Pedro. 75 A Monkey Family — Christmas at Eugenio Novo. 78 Brazilian Animals. 81 To Texas for the Third Time. 84 To Edinburgh and Eisenach.. 85 Summary.................................................................. 89 PART TWO : Addendum .. 91 The Family. 92 Years of Childhood. 94 Life as a Boy. 95 Life in the House of My Parents. 98 The Young Man Heinrich . 103 Life as a Student.. 112 My Life in Silesia.. 117 Green Heinrich.. 119 Polish Authorities and Conditions. 126 Rheinfelden. 129 Gustav . 131 Prussian and Russian Poland. 134 Kalisch in the Fall 1835. 140 Brazilian Conditions. 143 Old Bob. 148 The Dutch Nigger. 152 Schilling and Riebe. 156 Summary. 159 PART ONE THE PARENTS’ HOUSE — IN RUSSIAN SERVICE I was Russian by birth, although I was born in Germany as the son of German parents, since my father was a Russian diplomat at one of the Courts of Southern Germany. But this connection with Russia was never very important to me. I was taught and educated in a German way, and my sympathies belonged to the German fatherland all my life. I was born in the so-called “Country House” in Stuttgart in 1812 (Aug. 9). This old house of my forefathers is well known by the fact that the reformer Brenz of Wuerttemberg was miraculously saved here (Johannes Brenz 1499-1570). The Duke Ulrich had informed Brenz that he’d better hide somewhere since the royal troops were approaching and the Duke would not be able to protect him against them. Brenz then had left his apartment and went to the upper City, where he found this “Country House” open and hid there in a corner of the attic. A search started the next day, whereby every house was searched, the “Country-House” being the last house on the list. The searching soldiers came so close to Brenz that he once had to move quickly so he could avoid the point of a pike, with which one of the soldiers stabbed into the corner where Brenz was hidden. However, he was not found and stayed there for two weeks. During this period, a hen came up to the attic every day, laid an egg and left again without making the noise with which a hen usually gives away the place where she laid an egg — which in this case would also have been the hiding place of the reformer. These eggs were the means with which the refugee kept himself alive for fifteen days, thus being able to hide for so long a time. Later, the City gave this house to the man who had been preserved there miraculously, and by heritage it finally came into the possession of the family of my great-grandparents [Friedrich Gottlieb Struve (1676-1752) and Johanne Dorothea Werner (d. 1740)]. When I was a child, I often went up to the attic and visited the spot where the reformer had hidden, and I also liked to listen to the family history which truly kept a record of the incident. Later on, when my parents had moved to Karlsruhe, we always had contact with the family of my grandparents in the “Country House.” My mother visited the good grandmother every year 1 together with the children. It was on the occasion of one of these journeys that the funny incident happened which afterwards was often happily told by Mother. The coach had stopped in front of an inn in Pforzheim, where we intended to have our lunch. When one child after the other left the coach behind Mother, one of the curious bystanders cried aloud, “Look, it won’t end at all!” It was a dear, true home where I was able to spend the years of my youth. Although my father died when I was only fifteen years old, I still keep his true image in my soul. He was a man of spirits, highly educated, and the children have to thank him for his example and instructions. Together with our mother, he was responsible for our education, and he did the best he could do. He always talked French to us, whereas Mother always used the German language. She had the greatest influence on our minds and souls. Many of the friends of our parents who visited our home frequently had also some influence on our education. I especially remember the Honorable Prelate Hebel, who was a frequent guest in our family circle, whereby one or the other of his Alemannic poems was sung by sister Sophie; the dear, honorable face of this gentleman impressed me so much that even today I would be able to paint it. The friendship which connected the minister Henhoefer with my parents was of greatest influence for me. From his home in Graben, he often came over to our house, and my parents thought so much of him that they wanted me to be confirmed by him. When I was thirteen years old, this idea became true, and for half-a-year I lived then in the dear parsonage in Graben, where I received preparatory instructions from the minister. For all my life I have remembered this stay in Graben as something really beautiful. Another person connected with the memories of the house of my parents — although less famous, but still important in its way — was “Old John.” When he was a young man, my father hired him as a servant during his stay in Munich. John accompanied Father on his many diplomatic journeys to Paris, London, and other capitals, and he was very proud of his experiences. He stood high above the rest of the servants, and he had the special privilege to be called “Mr. Valet.” In spite of these journeys, he never gave up his truly Bavarian dialect and his rough manners. He was well known throughout the City and a very popular person. The French ambassador, Count Monlessun, was his special friend. As often as he came to visit my father, he first joined John in a pinch. John offered his snuffbox to the Count, who in exchange offered his snuffbox to Old John. Thereby, the 2 two of them had funny conversations — the count speaking German only fairly well and John using his Bavarian dialect. He was in our services for fifty-six years, after which period my mother released him and paid him a lifelong pension. When he received the last sacraments from the Catholic Minister, he turned around and said, “Have you any further orders, Sir?” These words were characteristic for him, since with these words he always left our father at night. I had to leave this truly German house of my parents and came into completely different surroundings, when after Father’s death I had to decide which profession I would take up. I was a strong boy for my years, and I wanted to make a military career, which career should have been easy for me since I was a Russian subject and had the rights of a Russian citizen. My oldest brother was a “Legationssekretaer” in Dresden at that time and had good contact with a Russian General who promised to take me along to Warzawa [Warsaw], where he would introduce and recommend me to the Grand Duke Konstantin. At that time, three regiments Guard Calvary and two regiments Guard Infantry, as well as one battery riding Guard Artillery and one battery Foot Artillery were stationed within and near Warzawa. I chose the riding Guard Artillery. In addition to the recommendation of the General, who had taken me along from Dresden to Warzawa, I had excellent letters of recommendation from important persons and for the highest Generals in Warzawa. My heart was heavy when in the fall of 1828 I said farewell to the house of my parents and left Karlsruhe for Dresden, where I was to meet my friendly patron, the Russian General. Soon after my arrival in Dresden he was friendly enough to tell me that I had all and every quality to expect a fast career in the Russian Army. To make a career in Russia you must have the following qualities: You must have a good figure, must be a good rider, must know how to speak French, and must be fresh! These are the main qualities. I could pride myself of possessing the first three qualities, but the important fourth quality, which was so necessary to show off the other three ones, was missing completely. After a long and tedious journey — the General traveled in his coach — we arrived at Warzawa. The Grand Duke was in Petersburg at that time, and thus I was not introduced to him immediately.