George C. Hessler/Hesler
A note of explanation of the spelling of the surname. When the family of John Hessler reached New York the immigration officer misspelled their last name dropping the second �s� and they never corrected the spelling.
Autobiography by George C. Hessler
Reminiscences On My Ninetieth Birthday
June 1, 1929
Ninety years ago, in the kingdom of Bavaria, in Germany, there were two important cities, Erlangen and Nuernberg, connected by railroad, canal and highway running parallel with each other. Coming up from Erlangen these roads ran through the village of Mehrendorf. It was there I saw the light of day on June 1, 1839. The scenes of my childhood are still vivid to my mind. My father had built a new home to the north of the village. That house must still be standing, as it was built of sandstone. A little stream called the Rednitz, ran through a small valley to the south of our home. It was a beautiful village, with a stone church and the local cemetery to the rear of it.
Beiersdorf was our neighboring village, a half hour's walk as Germans measure distance. Here there was a large glass factory. Erlangen was renowned as a great university town with its thou-sands of students, as well as an important military post, maintaining a large garrison.
I can well recall my grandparents. My grandfather, John Hessler, was a farmer, who owned a small parcel of land. Being in poor circumstances he cultivated his land with the help of the family cow, yoked together with the cow of a neighbor. My grandmother was a kind-hearted soul; the gifts of apples and prunes she ~ave me still linger in my mind.
My father's name was likewise John Hessler. In his youth he entered the service of the King of Bavaria as a forester, looking after the game in the forests and superintending men in cutting down trees and making fire wood. My uncle, Gottlieb Briesman, was also a forester, superintending a game reserve to the south of our village.
My mothers maiden name was Elizabeth Briesman. She was a small woman, my father being somewhat tail. I was the youngest of the family; Cathrine being the oldest and James between us in age. I attended the village school only two years; an epidemic of sciatic rheumatism broke out amongst the children, crippling my hands and feet, and keeping me out of school for a long time.
Politically there were troublesome times in Germany in my childhood leading up to the revolution of 1848. The thoughts of many were directed to America, the land of promise. in our village there were discussions in many homes of leaving the fatherland and establishing a new home. The first family to emigrate was that of Hoffmann, who came to America in 1847 and settled on the North Shore. In the following year the families of John Fehd and George Rudolph set out for the same destination. Many others from Mehrendorf went to Cleveland, Ohio. Hoffman bought 40 acres just south of the County Line and east of the railroad, now a part of the Lake Shore Country Club.
Fehd occupied some land south of the County Line and west of the railroad. Rudolph settled on the west side of Green Bay Road north of the County Line . Accompanying Fehd and Rudolph was my sister Cathrine. She wrote urging us to follow, assuring us that we could better our conditions in America. So in the year 1848 our family bade fare-well to our home in Mehrendorf and set out for America.
On our journey to Bremen we saw signs of the revolution going on in Germany, regiments of soldiers would come marching by. In the month of March we went aboard the ship "Father Groner," a three masted sailing ship, and in nine weeks we crossed the ocean. Landing in New York we continued our journey via Albany, Buffalo, and the great lakes. Coming down Lake Michigan on the steamer "Bagden" our ship ran ashore just north of Racine. A storm tore the boat to pieces. the passengers however were landed in safety, and proceeded to Chicago on another boat. We landed in Chicago minus our trunks and chest. Father was able to borrow enough money to return to Racine to locate our trunks if possible, and fortunately he found them stowed away in a small store house on a pier.
Remaining in Chicago for a few days we set out for the home of the Fehd family. Near the northeast corner of Green Bay Road and the County Line on land belonging to John Engel my father built a shanty, into which we moved on Nov. 1, 1848, made memorable by a snowstorm which raged that. day, he snow remaining on the ground until the middle of April following. The next year my father purchased from George Rudolph one acre of land located on the east side of Green Bay Road just south of the present entrance to Ravinia Park. Tearing down the small shanty he built a log cabin, our first home a the forest. The name of the settlement growing around Green Bay Road and the County Line was known in the olden days as �die ewige Qual." which might be translated to read: "the eternal torment.� Life was not easy for us settlers, neither for adults nor for us children. There were many hardships to endure. However there was such a friendly spirit of helpfulness among the neighbors that we were happy then, and certainly more content than we are now. Money was not plentiful in those days, an acre of land costing about $5. Work was hard to find; father was willing to undertake any job that was offered at 50¢ per day. The principal means of making a living was the burning of charcoal. This was sold in Chicago at the price of 5¢ to 10¢ a bushel. The only means of transportation was bv oxen. It took a charcoal wagon three days to make the round trip; one day going the second selling, and the third returning. Another source of revenue was that of chopping cord wood, for which a man received 3 shillings a day; that is 371/2¢. Even we children were obliged to work; many a day I labored at digging potatoes from early morning till late at night and the wages were 5¢ a day plus meals.
The families coming from Mehrendorf were Lutherans and they requested the German Lutheran pastor of Chicago at that time to come and conduct services for them. This was the Rev. August Selle. Beginning about 1850 he came out regularly once a month, making the trip by ox-cart. The services were mainly held at the home of Mr. Fehd.
My schooling under these primitive conditions was sadly neglected. The nearest public school at the time was at Port Clinton. On Green Bay Road near the present home of Mr. R. S. Churchhill stood a log cabin, the first Roman Catholic Church of Highland Park. In this log cabin school was conducted on week days. This school I attended off and on, mostly mornings only. In the afternoon I was obliged to help support the family, assisting my father at whatever work he had to do. In the year 1853 my parents sent me to Chicago to receive confirmation instruction from the Rev. Dr. Wunder, the succesor of the Rev. A. Selle, at the First St. Paul's Evangelical Lutheran Church. Here I remained for three months, attending at the same time the parish school of that church conducted by Teacher Fischer. During this time I boarded and roomed with my sister Cathrine, who was married to Mr. Wolfgang Spoerlein. They conducted a boot and shoe business on Wells St. just south of Madison. It was at the age of 15 that I was confirmed.
The building of the railroad in 1854 meant a great deal to us. Not only was transportation to Chicago made easy, but it meant increased opportunities of earning a living. Railroad ties and fuel for the wood-burning locomotives found a ready market. When I was about 18 or 19 I worked one summer for 0. F. Fuller, a wholesale drug concern, located on Lake St., Chicago.
And now a new chapter of my life begins. As early as 1852 my older brother James went out to California to seek his fortune. I longed to follow him. Having become of age in 1860 I cast my first presidential vote for Abraham Lincoln. In February, 1861, I found myself in New York bound for California. Here I heard Lincoln make a speech on Broadway, after which he left for Washington via Baltimore. On the 21st of February I left New York on the "North Star" for Panama, crossed the isthmus on the railroad to Aspinwall, and thence north by steamer. On our way to Acapulco, Mexico, we met a broken down steamer, which we took in tow to San Francisco. Spending only one night in San Francisco I left for Bear Valley, Mariposa county, to meet my brother. With his help I made a contract with Mr. P. W. Parks at a salary of $100 per month. Mr. Parks had leased from Gen. Fremont the 44 square miles of land which had been granted him by the government. On this grant there were 5 quartz mills. Two of these were on the Merced River west of the Yosemite Valley. It is a beautiful country. Looking up in the morning one could see the beautiful snow capped mountains. On the edge of the snow one could find flowers blooming during the summer months. I remained there only a short time the mill broke down and I decided to look for work elsewhere.
I went up to my brother in the northern part of Bloomis Co., where there were 4 stamp quartz mills. My first job was to build a "rafter," which is a sort of merry-go-round, a water-power machine to grind up the quartz. I did well in Bloomis Co., earning good money. My brother had taken up a claim and I did likewise. All the money I earned I sent home to my father for safe keeping. During my stay in California the Civil War was on. I was enrolled in the army, but the government sent no California men to the front; the common rumor being that the Japanese might come and seize the western coast.
In the meantime the letters received from home were disquieting. My father's health was failing, due to cancer, and I felt it my duty to return. Having sold my claim I returned by the same route. Arriving at the port of Acapulco, Mexico, I saw the ill-fated Emperor Maximilian of Mexico, supported by a large fleet of men-of-war. I arrived at home in 1864, just in time to cast my ballot for the reelection of Abraham Lincoln.
Mr. Lucian Gurnee of Glencoe, whose brother Walter S. Gurnee was mayor of Chicago at that time, was in the real estate business on an extensive scale, having a working stable of 40 to 50 horses. For him I worked as a common laborer, clearing land mostly in and about Glencoe. At the home of the Gurnee's I first became acquainted with my wife, Jane Tole. who was in the employ of that family. She was a widow, having been married to Mr. James Lamb for only nine months. It was on the 29th of November, 1864, that we were coupled at the parsonage of the Rev. Wunder in Chicago, the pastor's wife being one of the witnesses.
Beginning at the County Line and running north on the west side of Green Bay Road were 80 acres, divided equally between Henry Meyer, John Engel and George Rudolph. With the money earned in California I bought the middle portion belonging to John Engel, and on that land we built our home in 1865. Most of the work I did myself, hiring the services of Henry Maurer as carpenter at $2 and board per day. After 21 days of building the house was so far completed that we could occupy it. My wife was a good woman and I a hard worker.
Five children were born unto us. The oldest is John, born August 25th, 1865, now living in Chicago. My daughter Cathrine was second, born on Sept. 7th, l866, now Mrs. P. Harder of Highland Park. James, also of Highland Park, was born on Feb. 17th, 1868. William. born April 13th, 1870, only reached the age of two, passing away on Dec. 13th. 1872. George, the youngest of the family, was born on Feb. 22.1873 ,now residing in Glencoe.
Being married and settled in our home I seriously took to farming. That meant in the first place to clear the land, which I did without hiring help. Many a shot of powder I placed under tree stumps. I was the first one in this part of the country to use dynamite in the clearing of land, furnished by my friend, Mr. S. H. Turrel of Chicago. Much of the timber I sold to the railroad, cutting each winter at least 50 cords. Once I made a contract with Mr. John C. Coe and delivered 2,000 railroad ties. We kept busy making charcoal, delivering it to the new railroad to be used in their machine shops.
The main crop raised on my land as it was cleared was horseradish. It was John Fehd and later Christopher Hohlfelder who brought the roots from Mehrendorf, and the raising of horseradish became quite an industry in this community, especially round about Glencoe. Besides that I raised hay and potatoes; and rye and wheat for my own use. The hay was hauled to Evanston for sale. I planted a fine orchard near the house. Cows and pigs and chickens began to multiply, supplying many families in Glencoe with produce. I also took great delight in raising horses. Another source of income on the farm was trapping, mainly minks and muskrats. I made as much as $55 one night by trapping.
About 50 years ago I made the acquaintance of Mr. Rober of Chicago, who owned what was then known as the Stole property, now known as the Village of the Woods. I rented his property for many years. Rober was a good friend of mine, remembering me every Christmas with a gift. He lost everything in the Chicago fire of 1871 and died soon after.
In the course of time I added to our original homesite several other pieces of property: 56 acres of wooded land near the lake, 20 acres near the Northmoor Golf Club, 20 acres on the east side of Green Bay Road, and 40 acres in Glencoe, section 1. New Trier Township; totaling about 160 acres.
Among the neighbors in the olden days there was always a friendly feeling. As they rise in my memory I recall: Robert Daggitt. Joseph Daggitt, William TurnbulI, George Rudolph, Mrs. Stahl (Beinlich), Sabastian Meyer, Herman Koller, Diettrich, Leach, Corcoran, Leonard, etc.
When I returned from California the Lutherans were still worshiping under the guidance of the Rev. Wunder of Chicago at the home of Mr. Fehd. I tarted the idea of building a church. An acre of was bought of Jacob Masser on Green Bay Road south of the County Line, to which he donated another half acre, and here the church was built in 1866. The laborers working on the church. I boarded at my home, and every hour I could spare I worked on the church myself. The building cost us $649.89, and when it was dedicated we had a debt of only $35.66. For many years I served the church as trustee and treasurer. Rev. Wunder continued to come once a month, on Mondays, to conduct services, which people attended from the south as far as Evanston and from the north as far as Lake Forest. In those days it meant nothing to walk ten miles to church. Of the many that helped build the church I recall especially Gustav Nafe of Port Clinton and Carl Unbehauen of Lake Forest. When in 1920 the church sold its property to the Forest Preserve and built anew in Glencoe, I joined the Lutheran church of Highland Park.
Robert Daggitt, being the oldest settler among us, donated a half acre of land on the County Line east of the present Braeside station as a burial ground, called Grace cemetery, in 1848. There is a deed on record at the court house in Waukegan setting this land aside as a burying ground forever. For many years I had charge of the records of that cemetery, noting each burial on a plat. Many a friend is resting there.
My father passed to his reward on July 17th, 1871, my mother following him much later, on July 31st, 1888. News reached us from Basin, Montana, that my brother James passed away there on the 20th of May, 1891. My dear wife closed her eyes in peace on Jan. 17th, 1908, she having attained the age of 70 years. My sister Cathrine became ninety years old, ending her days on Feb. 22nd, 1921.
For 29 years I served the county as a commissioner of highways. My friends, among them Mr. Coe, urged me to run for that office, and I was reelected again and again. Being a commissioner in the early days did not simply mean to sit in conference and decide what was to be done, but to go out and do it. So we unloaded and spread many a load of stone, hauled gravel from Half Day; and put in culverts. For many years I worked together with Patrick Sheahan, John Mahan, Frank Stupey, William Witten, John Freberg, and others.
I was always fond of hunting. In the early days there was plenty game around these parts. I shot from 60 to 70 deer, in one winter 25 of them. I remember catching three wolves, and caught hundreds of minks and thousands of muskrats. After deer became scarce I went to Wisconsin each fall. Here I stopped at the home of Mr. Chas. E. Bice of Beaver, Marinette County. As a companion for good many years I had with me Mr. Otto Ernst of Chicago.
A great calamity befell me when my house burned down on June 25th, 1922. The cause of the fire is unknown. I retired as usual that evening about 9 o'clock, and at 1 o'clock in the morning I awoke nearly choked with smoke. I rushed to the woodshed and found it on fire, all ablaze. I grabbed the telephone, but the fire had already reached the wires. Rushing over to the house of my son James I called up the fire department. When they arrived it was too late to save anything. It was a bitter cold night; I ran around, dressed only in my nightshirt, until I nearly froze. I was able to save only one suit of clothes. Entering the house again, I crawled through the smoke along the floor until I reached our living room. The first object I touched was the family Bible. Then I knew where I was and what objects were around me. I seized my two shotguns, and one rifle in one arm, and the Bible in the other and crawled outside again. Everything else I lost, among them many valuable. All my hunting trophies were destroyed. a most beautiful pheasant, three deer heads which I highly prized, many stuffed prairie chickens, partridges, quails, jacksnipes, etc. Sitting that morning beside the smouldering ashes I deeply mourned the loss of my home, feeling that all the results of a long life of labor had simply vanished in smoke.
I built a new house, but it could not replace my home. Soon after I sold my original farm to Mr. Heald, and am now living with my daughter.
The burden of 90 years is resting heavily upon me. My health is none too good. What the future has in store for me, I know not. God knows, and unto Him I commend my body and soul.
PERSEVERANCE
All the products of human art at which we look with wonder illustrate the restless force of perseverance. It is by this that quarries become pyramids, and that distant counties are united by camels and cables.
If we were to compare a single stroke of the pickaxe with the last result, we would be over whelmed by the sense of their disproportion. Yet these petty operations, incessantly continued, in time surmount the greatest difficulties, and mountains are leveled and oceans traversed by the slender forces of electricity, under the preserving efforts of man.
Nothing circulates so rapidly as a secret.
Only great and special deeds make known great chararters.
Begin by denying yourself, and by and by you forget yourself.
There is no use to be in a hurry unless you are going in the right direction.
The boy with a goal knows where he is going.
A GOOD INVESTMENT
Benjamin Franklin said that when a man emptied his purse into his head no man could take it away from him. A good education is something which thieves cannot steal. Some men put their money into their clothes; some like to put it into a fine automobile; some put it into a mansion; some into very expensive furniture; some like it in Persian rugs; some prefer it in thoroughbred cattle or pedigreed sheep, or even dogs and cats; but not one of these investments can compare for safety, and probably for pleasure, with the investment in desirable knowledge.
A cultured intellect means more than any outside adornment. It lifts us into a higher sphere; it transports us into the company of the great and good of all ages; it widens our mental horizon and saves us from the narrowness of petty thinking. It is a good investment; and it is possible to all. Not all may go to college, but all may attend the university of books, and learn from them what wise men have to tell the world. And it may be that even in dollars and cents this education will pay a thousand-fold.
READ GOOD LITERATURE
A bad book is a big thief. For it robs a man of his time and of his good principles. Many young people have been ruined by the vile literature which is so common. Of bad books we can never read too little; of the good never too much.
Books should to one of these four ends conduce: For wisdom, piety, delight or use.
Content is the philosopher's stone that turns all t touches into gold.
Most of us can bear with patience the sorrows and sufferings of other people.
Do not try to see how many things you can do, but how many things you can do well.
No man is a free man who has a vice for his master.
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