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View Tree for Johann Phillipp FuessJohann Phillipp Fuess (b. Aug 01, 1827, d. Jun 12, 1896)

Johann Phillipp Fuess (son of Johannes Fuess and Susanna Friederika Kuhn) was born Aug 01, 1827183, and died Jun 12, 1896. He married Phillipina Erb on 1851183.

 Includes NotesNotes for Johann Phillipp Fuess:
The John Philip Fuess
Phillipina Erb
Family

by Katherine Fuess Skinner

To trace the history of a family is no easy task, even under favorable conditions, but when the Atlantic rolls its waves between the seeker and the information sought, the difficulties in the case are much increased.

We recall long winter evenings in days gone by when we sat around the fire listening to the stories related by one who was well versed in all that related to the past and present of the Fuess family.

When the wind was piling the snow in huge banks and moaning piteously out, the relater would wander back in thought to the fatherland, and glimpses of his youth and ancestors would be revealed to his listening children. The knowledge thus gained from the principal source of this paper.

In the dark days of medieval times where bigotry and persecution raged rampant, when religious fanaticism controlled France, many of the persecuted Huguenot arose in the middle of the night, packed their few belongings and with smothered tears and sobs, bade farewell to fatherland and fled to more friendly regions. Among these exiles, about the middle of the seventeenth century, was one named "Fuess", the ancestor of the family here gathered. His heart clung to the land of sun and vine and he got no further than the banks of the Rhine, at that time the boundary of his loved France. Here, under the protection of the Bavarian King, he lives.

As time rolled on, his descendants became more and more Germanized, losing every vestige of their French blood, but here and there the sparkling imagination and quick temper of some of his descents proclaim their French blood.

In 1825, in a little German hamlet, Annweiler, Province of Bavaria, lived John Fuess and Susanna Coon Fuess; descendants of the Huguenot exile. They were blessed with five children, the oldest of which, John Philip, born August 1827, became our father whose birthday we are here assembled to commemorate.

His early days were spent about his fathers brick yard, much as other boys spend theirs. Many a story of youthful prank did he delight in telling. His mother , whose uncle was burgomaster was proud, stern, and unyielding. She controlled with an iron hand. But for (John) Philip, her first born, she felt a special love. He was humored and petted and was the apple of both mother and father's eyes.

(John) Philip became a strong, robust, well favored youth, and all too soon the time came for him to enter the soldiers ranks. His father's failing health and manifold business cares made it very important that (John) Philip, the eldest, should assume much of the responsibility of the business. It seemed that he could not possibly be spared from the home even to serve his country. When the time came for the examination of the young men of Annweiler, (John) Philip's lucky star was in the ascent. Through the aid of the kind old family physician, and an accommodating sore leg, he was declared unfit for service, and sent home rejoicing.

When (John) Philip became 21, the war of 1848 broke out. The people, especially the young hot-heads, inflamed by the Revolution in France, rose up against their government, crying "liberty" and "Death to monarchy." The fire of revolution spread even to the quiet hamlet of Annweiler, and havoc it worked. In the Fuess home, Jacob and Lewis, the younger sons shouldered arms and marched away with the Revolutionists while (John) Philip, the true Royalist remained with his father and cheered for the King. You have heard the story many times.

For a time the revolutionists seemed to succeed . Drunk with their victory, all Royalists were captured and given the choice of shouldering a gun, or death. Our Father was roughly seized and condemned to death. The fatal day arrived. With others similarly destined he passes the dreadful hours not knowing what the next may bring forth. Hark! The rolling drum and tramping feet proclaim new comers. Who are they? Thank God. The King's men are just in time. Like leaves before a storm the recent victors dispersed and order is again restored. Had the soldiers been but a few hours late, this history would doubtless never have been written.

At the close of the war important changes came. Lewis and Jacob fled to America and the father (John) comparatively a young man laid to rest. (John) Philip steps in, pays off his brothers, and assumes the brick yard with all debts.

In Annweiler lived Phillipina Erb, the daughter of the Village shoemaker. She was tall, graceful and fair to look upon, and (John) Philip and Phillipina were early remarked to enjoy each others society. In 1851 these two were united and the family altar, which you and I know so well was formed.

For some time all went well, children came to brighten the home. Philip Jr. and Carl and Susan. The business prospered, wine flowed freely and none who labored for "Vetter Fuess" ever complained of him as a hard master. His liberality was boundless. Often he gave to the poor and distressed that which was needed by himself. But dark days came. Times grew less prosperous. Fuel to feed the two huge brick ovens became scarcer and more costly. Limestone so essential to the one time brick making was hard to get, and many debts added to the decline. By this time Lewis, Libbie, Jacob, Phoebe and Maurice increased the expenses and responsibilities in the home, although bringing new joy. Libbie remained but a short year, and then was laid away in the village church yard.

With the advent of each little one a christening feast was held. Staunch Lutherans, the doctrine of infant baptism was strictly adhered to. These "christenings" were great events. An aunt from Paris happened to be at one of the merry feasts, and to the slumbering infant, gave the name of "Maurice Gabriel". Her wealth and lone state at that time, made her a much to be desired Godmother. But alas, she has since married a widower, with a full quota of children, and necessarily neglected her God Son. The days grew darker. From the brothers across the sea came letters to our father, telling of fabulous wealth and untold luxuries to be had for almost nothing in the New World, and urging him to sell all and come.

The oldest son, Philip, Jr., then a lad of but 16, robust and hearty became filled with a desire to wander forth and seek his fortune in America. One bright May day, in 1868 a trio started forth from the peaceful hamlet of Annweiler. Young Philip with bundle slung across his shoulder and cane in hand is bidding good-bye to his fatherland, and with Father and brother Carl is walking to the nearest railway station. Can we picture the scene? It is a long good-bye. Mother, with little ones clinging to her, waving a yearning farewell. Schoolmates envying and yet loudly wishing their comrades luck. The lad with hope and ambition written upon his face, endeavoring to smile, while the boyish tears refuse to be held back. Such parting may be common but only the participants know the pangs they endured.

On the way to the station a little event occurred never to be forgotten by the three. The walking stick was swinging idly in Carl's hand as he trotted bravely beside his father endeavoring to keep pace with the rapid strides of his elders. With an unfortunate move the sharp end of the stick caught in the leg of Father's brand new pants and ripped them from belt to heel. The effect was electrical. You who know the disposition of the man I need not tell the result. Carl took to his legs thinking doubtless that safety lay in flight. A tailor in a nearby hamlet soon remedied the evil and the three proceeded on their journey.

After Philip's departure things went on apparently as before. Elizabeth came in the summer of 1868. Then the child of fate, had at her christening the richest and greatest variety of "Kuchen". The spirit of emigration had entered the home, and Carl, inspired by Philip's letters decided to cast his lot with the emigrants. Again farewells are said, and the second boy is gone.


To add to the hard time, and business embarrassments the Franco-Prussian war drew near. The father is called to service and with his best team follows the soldiers with provisions.

The brick yard and barn are turned into soldiers' quarters.

One September day, when the barns are filled with the summer harvest, the father receives a furlough of a few days. He reaches an eminence overlooking his native village and is stirred with the thought that after weeks of separation, he once more will be within the bosom of his family. As he gazes upon the peaceful scene, he sees a line of smoke rising to the sky. It grows larger, flames are visible. Something is burning. It is in the direction of his home, but fire is deceiving and it may be but a pale of brush or refuse. With anxious heart he hastens on. Alas. It is too true. His barn is ablaze. Some careless trooper has ignited the fragrant hay and the year's harvest went up in smoke.

Shortly after this the last in this family of ten children, Katherine, came to glad the heart of mother and add her share to the quota of care. Two years pass by, clouds gather, troubles come, and at last bankruptcy stared the family in the face. The proud and honored name of Fuess must be dragged though the mire of business failure.

The man is humbled, never dreaming that he must flee from his fatherland, now through the cruelty of fortune is made to welcome emigration. He decides to begin in the foreign land and among alien people, his life anew to wrest from cruel fate the livelihood which she here in his birthplace denied him.

In April 1872 father, mother and seven children look their last upon home and fatherland and turn their faces toward the New World.

With resolute hearts they turn their backs upon loved and familiar places, upon well known and honored customs, upon tried and trusted faces, upon all that life ever held dear to them and rush into a strange unknown.

A year was spent in a tenant house. The father who all his life had been master and "vetter" with forty men working in his brick yard worked out by the month for a neighbor. From the time of landing on American soil, the discontent began to grow in this man's heart, and it flourished there until his death. Galling him to work out? I need not say.

Away upon one of the Brookfield hills, known as Mount Hunger, a farm was bought. A blizzardly March day in '74 the family moved to their desolate region. Hard as he might try his farming did not possess the acumen shown by our father. Heavily mortgaged and eight miles from nowhere among strangers in the wilds of Oneida County, five years were passed.

But life was not all dark upon Mount Hunger. The parties in the neighborhood were well attended. Susan, the belle was sought out by rustic lovers to whom she turned a deaf ear. Philip found here his bride. During the summer the older ones worked out, coming home in the Fall with their hard earned dollars to keep the family.

The younger ones attended the old red school house. Whole volumes might be written about this school house. Memories. Ah, how vivid and stirring come to us as we occasionally view it. It was a great place to us. The hill back of it was the best coasting place known. The alder bushes by the stream formed a cool retreat during the noontide calm. The little loves and friendships, the little joys and sorrows there experienced can never be told. Can we forget the rainy days when Father came on old Brady to bring his children home? Remember how we clung for dear life to mane and neck.

There too we remember Mother , faithful and patient, amid all the privations and trials, never uttering word of complaint, or telling how the cruel dart, received at parting from her parents was eating her heart. Surely woman is a mystery. One day the truth dawned upon us -- "Our Mother was ill." A physician was called in. "Nothing serious, she would soon be well." How little he knew of the true case.

"Cans't then not minister in a mind dispensed,
Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow".

In the spring of 1878 another move was made. We left the hill and came to Bouckville. The wife and mother, who had been growing weaker was brought to her new home on a bed. In the Fall of the same year, the blow came. No doctor could reach the heart diseased. She gradually faded and finally with "Father" upon her lips went to her final home. You know what this meant.

Fortune seemed to smile during the next seven years. Here the matrimonial fires were again lighted. Carl, Susan and Phoebe established homes of their own. Here the hospitality of olden times was commenced again. Every German for miles around knew Fuess. Whether Merchanthaler, Ballaveen, Schellung or Spitz, whether in carriage or on foot, all were made welcome by Father. Among frequent callers was a much respected neighbor, Mr. Brockett. Little then was dreamed the important part he was to play in our lives in the future . The pastors who were frequent at the farm never failed to carry a sack and you can rest assured it was never empty when they departed.

Again a change was made. Father and his three youngest moving to Hanover. Here ten years were spent with varying joys and sorrows.

You know the rest. He, in whose name we are gathered together today apparently in robust health, was attacked by the fall destroyer. His heart's wish, the desire to visit his homeland was not gratified. After a life of hopes and struggles, joys and disappointments he passed to his rest on June 12, 1896.

All but one of us gathered here today (Jacob) although so far away he is still in our minds. May we ever live to bring honor to him whose counsels and advice we today so much cherish."

Quote from copy of the Philip John Fuess Sr. genealogy as outlined by Mary Ellen [Fuess] Dornburgh Wetlaufer.

"Philip Jr., William, and Harry, were hop growers for many years until the market dropped and a mildew on the hops forced them to go into dairy farming. Edward left home after graduating from high school and went to Utica to further his education, obtaining a position in the Citizens Trust Bank. He was in the banking business in Utica in various capacities for 48 years."

Did the Three Musketeers actually exist? Only in the mind of Alexandre Dumas the Elder. He wrote the novel "The Three Musketeers" in 1844. The setting is 17th-century France, and the musketeers -- Athos, Porthos, and Aramis -- are swordsmen who serve King Louis XIII. Together they defeat Cardinal Richelieu in his plot to embarrass the royal family. The confusion about whether the musketeers were real arises because Louis XIII and Richelieu did indeed exist. But like many authors, Dumas used historical figures as foils for his fictional characters.

More About Johann Phillipp Fuess and Phillipina Erb:
Marriage: 1851183

Children of Johann Phillipp Fuess and Phillipina Erb are:
  1. +Philip John Fuess, Sr., b. Jan 05, 1852184, d. Dec 20, 1932, Waterville, NY..
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