The Slauenwhites

Finding the Slauenwhites point of departure was a lot easier than either the Hebbs or the Haughns. I only had to walk 24 km to take in all the important sights, and had it not been Good Friday, a better bus schedule could have meant little to no walking at all.

Here is some Slauenwhite background I pulled off the web:

The SCHLAGENTWEIT surname is generally believed to have originated in Austria. One scholarly reference states that the surname comes from the German words Schlage--to strike, and Weit--wide, and is an idiom for a reckless person. However, a [SCHLAGINTWEIT living in Austria] states that the German word "Schlag", in Upper Austria connotes making a free space for farming in the woods and that "in die weit" means far away; thus SCHLAGINTWEIT is what is known as a "house name" and means "man who comes from a place far away in the woods". It is certainly possible that both derivations are correct and that each arose independently.

A genealogy writer with the screen name "girlstar", has a more interesting entry.

The Schlagintweit Family [..] came from the Bavarien Forest (small mountains in Germany on the border to the Czech Republic)

Our ancestors in the Middle Ages were knights [whoo hoo!!!!] this is expressed in our family's coat of arms. The German word "Schlag" means "beat", as a symbol for it there is a sword on the coat of armes. "weit" can be translated with "far away / distance" symbolised by the arrow. The syllable "int" is a transformation of the german word "und" (="and"). The first known representitive of our family there was a revolutionary, who was hanged in Vienna (capital of Austria).

The oldest known ancestor of the Nova Scotia Slauenwhites is Tobias Schlagentweit. He was born around 1650 and lived in a town that I didn´t visit northeast of Frankfurt. That's about all we know about Tobias. That and the fact that he married someone and had a son whom he named Tobias Schlagentweit, confusingly enough. Tobias Schlagentweit, the younger-- a very important sounding name I've just given him-- moved south to Sternenfels, a small farm town north east of Stuttgart. At the age of 27 he married a 23 year old widow named Maria and had a son with her a few years later.

The son, Joseph Schlagentweit, moved to Nordheim, north of Stuttgart. He was a cobbler ("schuster" in German) and married twice. His second marriage was followed by a move to the nearby village of Dürenzimmern. He had two more children with his second wife and then decided, for whatever reason, that moving halfway across the world for 50 acres of uncleared land was better than fixing shoes.

He sailed from Rotterdam, Holland on the Sally in 1752, and by sometime in 1753

he was commander of a picket force charged with protecting the Lunenburg settlement from Indians. He was granted a tract of several hundred acres of land on the road leading to Blockhouse from Lunenburg, and established himself there as a miller. The trench which he built to bring water from nearby Dorey's Lake to his mill was visible in 1923, and may still be.

100 acres in blockhouse is much better than the 30 acres that other settlers got (they were promised 50, but it's not like they could catch a boat back to Europe). To make a long story short (which has to be done), Joseph's son, Johann Friedrich had 11 children of which one had 13 children of which one had son who had a son who had my grandmother who had my father and so on. All of the ensuing procreation makes Tobias Schlagentweit is my great (x8) grandfather. With this background knowledge, I was left with a few destinations to track down.

Sternenfels and Nordheim are both close to a city called Heilbronn, which happens to have a hostel. I was the only independent traveller staying, the other occupants were a school group and two families. This meant having my OWN private room with six beds! The heat was inadequate and the breakfast was early (8-9), but I wasn't complaining.

Up early on Good Friday, I headed to the Hauptbahnhof (main station...) I was surprised to learn that the tram I was on continued to a city far west of Heilbronn, which meant that it passed near Sternenfels. I got off at the main station anyhow, to look for more solid transit information and was disappointed to find reduced hours for the Holiday. Undeterred by lack of information, I caught the next tram and headed outward into the country side. All I knew was that there was that the train stopped 6 km north of Sternenfels. I figured that Dürenzimmern was a small place nearby, as Johann Friedrich was born in Dürenzimmern 28 August 1745, and then baptized on 28 August 1745 in Sternenfels. I figured that you couldn't take a day old baby too too far to get baptized.

I got on the next "S4" tram. Stepping off the station nearest my destination, All I saw were fields and small towns, with a lot less woodland than in Odenwald.

I set out in the morning coolness. There was no drizzle but a might mist blanketed the fields and gray clouds blocked the sun. I could hear Good Friday church bells in the distance and birds chirping. There were a few walkers in the fields, some with dogs, some without. I said "Guten Morgen" to an old lady, who looked at me like I was crazy.



six kilometres later, I made it to Sternenfels. It was a small town with some industry on the outskirts I found myself in and a billboard announcing some kind of new subdivision. A light drizzle began, compelling me to open my umbrella and look for something to eat, preferably inside.

The local Bierhaus was just a few steps away, so I stepped inside and sat myself in the corner. There were a group of old locals sitting over a round table covered in beer mugs. A lady got up to take my order, and when she realized that it wasn't going to come out in perfect German, called in her son.




Her son was bald and large in all three dimensions. He fit the stereotype of a Bierhaus owner (although he was in training). He spoke English and recommended I try Rostbraten, a local Swabian food. It ended up being a nice steak fried in onions, pepper and a special sauce and served with a salad and noddles. I was impressed. After finishing my meal I asked where Dürenzimmern might be. It wasn't as easy a question as I thought. The son asked the beer drinking table if they knew. The whole table erupted in argument over whee the place was which led to a few different answers. The son pointed out on my map with a large index finger. I gave him my pen so he could mark it with a bit more precision.

Apart from not knowing exactly where Dürenzimmern, the beer drinking locals knew of no townspeople, or any people for that matter with the surname Schlagentweit, although the Bierhaus owner, who must have been cooking earlier, mentioned that it was the name of a big company.

I walked around town a little bit more and checked out the church. It was built in 1751, so couldn't have been the church where Johann Friedrich was baptised.





There was a tower overlooking the town, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that it was built well after the 1750s.





I found a map and set myself out on the woods trail that it depicted. I walked a long way, and I felt things weren't going so well, so I took a shortcut and ran into a woods road that could take me back tot he highway. After catching a bus in the next town, I was dropped 2 km from a a place called Schtockheim, where the old men said I could see Dürenzimmern on the hillside from. There was a nice hilltop manor, with a tower on the hill above, but no Dürenzimmern. I asked a walking couple, in my stellar German, "Das ist Schtockheim, Ja?". To which they agreed. I followed up with "Wo ist Dürenzimmern?" This led to an enthusiastic description that I understood about 2 percent of. I gathered that it was more than 2 km, and that I had to pass through a town called Brackenheim. I wandered in the general direction, hitting a three way fork in the road. My map covered the whole state and was very imprecise for this kind of situation, so I could only guess between the the centre and right path. I walked five minutes down the centre one and then backtracked and took the right.




Once in Brackenheim, I found an area map and realized why I could never find Dürenzimmern. It is adjacent to the larger Brackenheim which eclipses it on all but the most local maps.



Dürenzimmern was a cute little village. There were a lot of modern single family dwellings, but a lot of very old barns and original buildings existed in the centre. I found a building, erected in 1732, that would have been new when Joseph moved there. The stone church was built in 1408 and would have been there for sure. There were easter eggs hung on bushes in front of the church and an strange straw-stuffed rabbit family. The town also had some connection to beer, as I their signs were made from the ends of barrels and I saw a varnished barrel in some one's yard.









The town, like all the others I had been to was quiet. The only noise came from passing cars and boys playing soccer on a residential street. I could imagine them yelling "car" and moving to the side to let the passing vehicle through.

Nordheim was a further 9 km walk. I could wait three hours for the next bus, but decided that walking was better. Nordheim has a train station on a major line, so I wasn't worried about getting back to my hostel from there.

There was farmland and orchards in the distance between he two towns, and I discovered a bike path, and map that, ha I known about it before, I could have seen Nordheim, Dürenzimmern, and Sternenfels in a leisurely one day bike trip.





At the edge of Nordheim, there was a road sign to tell you when you could go to a protestant service or catholic mass on Sunday. I listed outside one of the churches where someone was practicing playing the organ. The next train to Heilbornn wasn't for an hour, so I ate a huge pizza meal before I went back to my hostel and collapsed.