The voyage of Thekla Nübling, part 1
For members of the Mitchell family
Thekla’s descendants are extremely lucky; a whole set of letters that she wrote to her family in Germany survive to tell her story of coming to America. I have done my best to translate these letters, so here they are (slightly abridged and edited for clarity).
This first set of letters describes her initial departure from home.
I have included Wikipedia links for the various German locations she mentions, in case you’re curious.
April 19, 1828
Frankfurt
My dear, good parents!
Healthy, happy, and without any adventures, I arrived in Frankfurt today. From Stuttgart to Heilbronn I sat alone in the rear section of the express coach. I did not like it because I had so much quiet time to remember saying goodbye — and plans to make.
The reception of the merchant M.’s family here in Frankfurt has been friendly, loving, and courteous.
I expect letters from you in Bremen.
April 24, 1828
Hanover
I happily arrived here half an hour ago, and I hasten to send you this pleasant message.
On Tuesday afternoon I left Frankfurt, though I was very upset by having to say goodbye to my new friends there. I had to sit in a carriage with a lot of loud gentlemen up to Kassel. However, they behaved quite nicely towards me.
The weather was pleasant until we came to Kassel, when there was a thunderstorm; the gentlemen went to an inn, while I had to wander alone around the city asking about where to register to leave for Hanover. For the first time I felt abandoned, and silent tears came to my eyes, but I quickly recovered. I was not in the right mood for company, so I went to the inn, got a room, and had lunch; by the time I had washed and dressed again, the cab was ready to drive on. Some of the men came back to it to continue on, as well as three students, but they remained in Göttingen.
From that city I just mentioned we went to Einbeck, where we stumbled out of the carriage at 6 o’clock in the morning. Now imagine my indescribable joy when from the front of the cab arose a woman, who approached me and greeted me kindly and spoke:
“Where are you going?” she asked.
I answered, “To Hanover.”
“Me too. Will you stay there?” she asked.
I answered, “No, I will only be there overnight, and will leave for Bremen the next morning.”
“Me too. Perhaps you will stay in Bremen?” she asked.
I answered, “No, I embark for New York on the first of May.”
“Me too,” she said, “Oh, dear God! I have had a letter from Bremen about a woman from Ulm who will travel with me on the ship to New York. You must be that woman!”
My reply was, “I am that woman!”
We cried for joy, because we both felt so separated from familiar people. A brother of hers will make the voyage overseas with us, although he preferred to walk all the way from Gotha to Bremen on foot. Her name is Ottilie B.; she is from Gotha and travels with her younger brother to an older brother in New York.
Now we are sitting at a table in an inn in Hanover and I can hardly write, I feel such heartfelt joy. If only we could give wings to our letters! The ship’s captain has also been described as an excellent man to Ottilie, which is why she and her brother have decided to embark from Bremen. We both see our meeting as a blessing from God.
My health is as good as can be expected. Further to come from Bremen.
April 28, 1828
Bremen
I arrived here quite happy and satisfied. It is to be admired, my dear father, how things have gone so well on my journey so far, almost as if an unknown being has made everything go so well for me.
I cannot boast enough of the friendly reception in the house of the businessman R.; in my opinion, your letters of introduction have been of indescribable value.
Here, people don’t really notice you or talk to you or assail you with annoying advice, like in Ulm.
So far we have only had a westerly wind, but today we got the easterly wind that we need to depart. Of course, things will not always go so well, but now the unpleasantness of the journey through the country has been overcome; and so, with God’s help, I shall also make it through the sea voyage.
The departure is scheduled for the first of May, and the ship is about 15 hours down the river near Brake. We will have lively company on the ship, as another coach arrived here today with 25 passengers, all of whom want to travel to America on our ship; there are even 5 musicians among them.
May 1, 1828
Aboard the Constitution
I have been here since yesterday evening, and I am trying to get settled into the seafaring life. I have already endured a little danger.
Ottilie and I went down the Weser in a small skiff with Mr. B. and his wife and their little boy at 5 o’clock in the morning. We hoped to get on the ship by midday. We made rapid progress to Brake, where we arrived at about 11 o’clock in the morning. We had to wait for the tide, but when we went out at 3 o’clock, the Weser raised huge waves, like those on the Bodensee.
The skiff was so terribly shaken that we feared being overtaken by a wave. We went on for another quarter of an hour to get on a larger boat, then had to wait for a better wind to approach our ship; our suitcases and bedding were waiting there for us. So it was 11 o’clock at night before we finally arrived on the ship. I slept very well the first night.
Mr. R. has taken very good care of me. The captain’s little cabin is now my own. He has given me a drawer in his dresser, and he has completely ceded his washstand to me. The cabin is very modern. It is furnished with a pretty sofa, a bell-rope with a bronze handle, and curtains and finery and the like.
We are waiting, longing for a better wind to be able to go. The ship sways so much that I can barely continue writing, and it is evident by my handwriting that I am a little dizzy.
May 2, 1828
Aboard the Constitution
It is 3 o’clock in the afternoon and we are still stuck.
We spent the whole morning on the deck, where there was so much to laugh about that the hours easily passed by. There is an elderly man on the ship who plays guitar and sings funny songs. There is also a Württembergish musician who blows us waltzes and other dances on the flute. It is a pity that there is always a cold wind and we must keep on our coats, when otherwise we could probably have a little dance.
Also among this ship’s company is a Jew, who was visited today by his brother after lunch. They met in the cabin. A lemon merchant on board with us imitated his gait and manners, and as long as he was there we could not go into the cabin without giggling.
So far I have not been able to do anything other than knit because, even though our ship is at anchor, it is always rocking back and forth in the violent wind. Yesterday I was a little dizzy, but today I feel fresh and cheerful.
This is the last letter than I can send to you from Europe; the next, God willing, shall come from New York.
I have to stop writing again; the rocking of the ship is increasing.
May 3, 1828
Aboard the Constitution
Finally we are in the North Sea. I am well and have good courage. Farewell! Farewell to all!
Stay tuned for the next set of letters, wherein Thekla finally leaves the continent.