This is Part V of an ongoing series of posts based on the family album of Milton Goldsmith, so generously shared with me by his granddaughter Sue. See Part I, Part II, Part III and Part IV at the links.
As promised, today I am sharing a letter that Samuel Adler wrote to his beloved fiancée, Sarah Kargau, shortly before their marriage in 1837.
Once again, I am indebted to Matthias Steinke for his generous help in transcribing this letter:
Würzburg, den 6ten November 1837
Meine Geliebte!
Voll unbeschreiblicher Sehnsucht zähle ich mit dir jede Stunde. Ja, mit heisser Sehnsucht sehe auch ich dem heiligen Momente unserer Einsegnung, unserer ewigen Verbindung entgegen. Nur noch wenige Tage und wir haben das Ziel unserer Wünsche erreicht. O, wie freue ich mich darauf! Schneller durchströmt bei diesem Gedanken das Blut meine Adern, heftiger schlägt bei diesen Gefühlen mein Herz. Ja, dieses Blättchen würde nicht hinreichen, die alle meine dieshaltigen(?) Gefühle zu schildern, und ich will daher davon abbrechen. Ich habe nun noch eine Bitte: Wir werden nämlich an unserem Hochzeitstage nur eine Vase (Chaise?) mit nach Fürth bringen,
The letter must have continued on the back of the page, as Sue could see there was writing on the reverse side. But she did not want to risk damaging this 182-year-old letter by trying to remove it from the album, so we don’t know how Samuel closed out the letter.
Using Google Translate and my rudimentary knowledge of German, I was able to translate the letter as follows:
Würzburg, November 6, 1837
My beloved! Full indescribable longing I count with you every hour. Yes, with a hot longing I too see the holy moments of our consecration, our eternal connection. Only a few days left and we have reached the goal of our wishes. Oh, how happy I am! The blood rushes through my veins faster at this thought, my heart beats harder with these feelings. Yes, this leaflet would not suffice to describe all of my heartfelt (?) Feelings, and I therefore want to stop it. I have one more request: we will bring only one vase (chaise?) to Fürth on our wedding day,
What a passionate letter! This was no marriage of convenience arranged by parents or a matchmaker. This was a true affair of the heart. I admit to being surprised by the ardor expressed so openly in this letter—the desire is palpable. Samuel was certainly a man in love (or at least in lust). But what was the vase or chaise reference all about? I guess some things are best left to the imagination.
Definitely in love. How wonderful!
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A good reminder of how “human” people were even in 1837!
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A true love letter, which makes me curious what might be hidden on the other side. Have a great week, Amy!
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Me, too–but not worth risking a letter that is close to 200 years old! Thanks, Peter! Enjoy your break.
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What a treasure! When I read the German text the illegible word “vase” made me keep going back to the original to see if I could read the word. I think it looks more like Chaise than vase. Without the rest of the letter, we can only imagine what he was writing about. I thought it might be an item used during the Jewish wedding ceremony.
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Interesting—Debi Austen wondered if it might be case—like suitcase. I can’t decipher it at all. I can’t imagine how a chaise would be used DURING a Jewish ceremony (or a vase). Perhaps AFTER?? 🙂
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Oh my, what a beautiful letter! As far as “vase” or “chaise” – when my grandparents’ wedding day was approaching, they wrote a lot about how many suitcases they were going to take on their honeymoon and this letter reminds me of that. Could the word be “case” or something else that might reference a suitcase or trunk?
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I don’t know! Maybe someone like Cathy or someone else who can read that old German script and knows German can help.
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Or valise?
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Good thought! But I just looked up suitcase and valise in the German dictionary, and it doesn’t translate as anything close to chaise or vase. “Koffer” or “Reisetasche.” 😦
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What an amazing treasure to have this letter and share in this intimate moment in their lives. Totally awesome ~
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I agree. And that fact that it is so old also amazes me.
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This letter is so precious. Samuel Adler was certainly a man in touch with his feelings.
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I’ll say! Who knew people expressed themselves so openly back in 1837!?
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What a treasure Amy. It lovely to know that this marriage began with such love and passion. Hope you vacancy solve the vase/chaise mystery.
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Thanks, Su!
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Amy, Thank you so much for posting this. It is good to know that generations of my immediate family married for love!
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It really is a treasure—we need to be sure we find a way to preserve it for the next 182 years!
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Amy, yes such passion! I am so glad you got all the assistance you needed to bring it into the blog. This provides an insight that passion knows no time or place!
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Yes—I must admit that I was surprised by the fact that people were so open about their feelings back in 1837.
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A very passionate letter…I wonder what that couple would think about so many reading this all these years later.
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That’s an interesting question. Since the letter was in the possession of their grandson Milton, I assume they did not consider it so private that it shouldn’t be shared with others. I’d like to think they would be delighted that so many were touched by their deep love.
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I agree .. I was trying to imagime them as older folk, having a little giggle, maybe blushing, but happily reliving the memories of those ardent times.
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I like that image!
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Even imagine.. darn dyslexic fingers… O:-)
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I like to think my grandparents held on to their letters all those years just hoping someone would find them and have an interest. It is so wonderful to read the words they wrote to each other and know how they were feeling.
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I agree, Debi. I have a few friends who have their parents’ or grandparents’ love letters. If the writers or recipients of those letters wanted to keep them private, I assume they would have destroyed them before they died or left instructions to do so.
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Better left to the imagination or the backside of that letter! 😉
I’m curious how it ends. What an amazing keepsake and quite fortunate that it’s survived all these years.
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Yes—and that’s why Sue doesn’t want to risk removing it to see the back!
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Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part VI: His Parents, Abraham and Cecelia | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part VII: Abraham Goldsmith and Cecelia Adler Get Married | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part VIII: Birth Records | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part IX: The Missing Babies | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part X: A Son’s Loving Tribute to His Mother | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part XI: Tributes to His Father Abraham | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part XII: The Mystery of His Stepmother Francis | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton’s Family Album, Part XIII: The Creative Talent of Milton Goldsmith Himself | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton’s Family Album, Part XIV: Teasing His Little Brother | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part XV: Childhood Memories | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Album, Part XVI: His Beloved Sister and Fellow Author, Emily | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: Milton Goldsmith’s Album, Part XVII: The Contrasting Lives of His Sisters Rose and Estella | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey
Pingback: The Things You Can’t Learn from Genealogy Records Alone: Milton Goldsmith’s Family Album, Part XVIII | Brotmanblog: A Family Journey