CHAPTER 18
THE YEARS IN WHICH FREDERICK was writing to his friends in Niedersaulheim were also the years in which he was turning more toward family at home. His children were all married and having their own offspring. And with most of them living in or near St. Paul, Frederick and Sarah saw a lot of these young families. Surprisingly, the man who had spent his life on rivers and rails and in forests and business meetings grew to enjoy the simple pleasures of children. Perhaps he treasured playing with the little ones because he had had so little leisure time when his own children were young.
F. E. remembers his father showing great affection to the younger children in the family. “In his association with his grandchildren Father was especially happy…He greatly enjoyed playing simple little German games with them.”
Young Fritz Jewett, son of Margaret and Richard, the Arabic professor, was the only grandchild who spoke fluent German. (Richard, a “Rhode Island Yankee,” as F. E. notes, was the only adult member of the family who could speak correct German, much to Frederick’s dismay.) Frederick and little Fritz had a game they played in German that involved guessing how many fists were placed on his head while his eyes were covered. The boy’s uncle F. E. recounts how Frederick affectionately teased his grandson about his handwriting: was he trying to make chicken tracks in the snow? Frederick’s own handwriting was the large, cursive style taught at the time and easily readable today.
Perhaps the German language was a special link between Frederick and young Fritz that led the grandfather to write the following letter of advice to him and his cousin Ed Davis in 1909. The letter survives in Frederick’s original handwriting.
Dear Fritz,
Your grandma and I were so glad to get yours and Edwin’s letter day before yesterday. We are happy to know that you are learning your lessons, going to church and Sunday School. Also that you are happy in your new home.
I trust you will try and get a good education as long as you are young. You can easily see how hard it is to try and get an education when you’re old, on the poor letters I am writing you. I did not go to school much (even in Germany when I was young to the English school I never went). When you come home I will tell you the reasons why I neglected my opportunity. Very poor writing, poor spelling, no grammar whatever. Boys are you not ashamed of your grandpa. How much boys do you think I would give now, if I only went to school 6 months, when I came to this country and learned a little?…Now, boys, is the time of your life. Make good use of it now.
I should like to live long enough to see you good and well educated men, but please and never forget it is better to be good than even educated. I feel sure I will not be disappointed in you boys.
Grandmother and I will pray every day that the good Lord may keep you and bless you. With much love for all of you from Grandma and Grandpa Weyerhaeuser.
Frederick took great pleasure in creating riddles for his grandchildren, such as, “If two were three, what would five be?” or “If a hen and a half lays an egg and a half in a day and a half, how many eggs will ten hens lay in ten days?”
These games eventually infected the entire family. J. P.’s wife, Nellie, wrote the following to Frederick in an admirable effort at one-upmanship: “If a hen and a half lays an egg and a half in a day and a half, in a barn and a half, a mile and a half from a town and a half…how many eggs would the hens lay in ten days and in ten towns?” This riddle was later found on a slip of paper in Frederick’s effects. Perhaps he had kept it all those years, enjoying her elaboration of his game.
In his exchanges with the grandchildren, Frederick’s wit was also apparent. When Ed Davis, Lonie and Sam’s son, was in Europe in 1905 with Frederick, his father had promised to buy him a gun if he would learn five hundred German words. Young Ed was working hard at the task, which amused Frederick. But, ever the negotiator and dealmaker, Frederick had a question for the boy: “Have you all the conditions and provisos in your agreement with your father?”
Young Ed said he thought he did.
“Has your father agreed to give you some cartridges?”
“No, I forgot about that,” said young Ed and promptly went to find his father to amend the agreement.
When Ed returned to his grandfather and announced he had obtained promise of the cartridges and all was now in place, Frederick had one more question for him: “But Edwin, has your father agreed to let you shoot the gun?”
In a letter describing an early encounter with Frederick, William Carson of Burlington, Iowa, described how Frederick’s “eyes commenced to dance when he was amused.” From the tales of Frederick’s dealings with his grandchildren, one imagines that the old man’s eyes danced often.
Frederick was gentle with all children in his later years and treated them with attention and respect. William Irvine recalls a story when he and his wife were guests in Sarah and Frederick’s home, accompanied by their young daughter. Frederick was amusing her by showing her the house. They came to the spacious dining room.
“Here we shall have dinner pretty soon.” Frederick said.
“Yes,” the little girl responded, “but I can’t have dinner here for there is no high chair.”
“Well, let us see what we can find,” said Mr. Weyerhaeuser and hand in hand with the little girl he climbed to the top of the house and in the lumber room in the attic found a high chair and brought it down to the dining room, greatly to the joy of the little girl. Only a few weeks ago I hear[d] that little girl—now a woman with a little girl of her own—proudly relate this incident.
In the years leading up to the grand celebration of Sarah and Frederick’s fiftieth wedding anniversary in 1907, Frederick had more time to enjoy his grandchildren because he had shifted much of his business responsibility to his sons. In 1904, as Frederick was recovering from his illness, his doctors ordered him to free himself from his business worries so as to conserve his strength for his recovery. Frederick took this advice to heart and immediately delegated greater responsibility to his sons. He divested himself of much of his property, creating holding companies instead. F. E. notes that his father asked nothing in return; nevertheless, his children voted him a continuing salary from the companies he had built and which they now controlled.
The Mississippi River winds slowly down from Minnesota through Rock Island, Illinois, and Davenport, Iowa, and if the sun shines brightly and a soft breeze blows, a sparkle plays across the water. In October an artist’s palette of red, brown, and yellow spreads over the gentle hills bordering the river.
Frederick and Sarah’s gaze met just such a scene as they journeyed down the Mississippi in early October 1907. A festive week lay ahead, for they were going to celebrate their fiftieth wedding anniversary with the entire family. They would hold the party in the house where they had spent so many of their early and happiest years, the house on the hill.
Apollonia and Sam had spent the previous year working hard on preparations for the celebration, including adding extra sleeping rooms to the large house. However, Apollonia reported later to her brother Fred that she didn’t want too many changes; family members should feel at home.
A letter from Lonie later in life to her brother F. E. describes their parents’ departure from the St. Paul home: “Just what happened the day the family left St. Paul, you doubtless know better than I do. Mrs. Lindeke and others decorated the new limousine with the old white satin slippers, white ribbon, etc. Father and mother knew nothing of the new car until it arrived at the door to take them to the boat. When they drove away neighbors threw rice at them, making them appear like a real bride and groom.”
Sarah and Frederick stopped to visit friends in Winona, Minnesota; La Crosse, Wisconsin; and Clinton, Iowa, on their journey to Rock Island. The steamer on which they made their trip was named Weyerhaeuser, and it had a venerable history as one of the early steamboats on the Mississippi. The Denkmann family owned the steamer and gladly loaned it for this occasion. Twelve other family members were on board with the happy couple.
Apollonia (Lonie) wrote a detailed report of the events of the next few days, based on her diaries and memories, and sent these to her brother Fred nearly thirty years later. Because she was the hostess she probably remembered well how she managed the complex sleeping arrangements. All twenty-six members of the family slept in the house on the hill, along with three maids and a nurse for Rudolph’s daughter, Peggy, who was recovering from a bout of typhoid fever. It was, in every sense of the phrase, a true family reunion.
The day after arrival was the actual day of the anniversary celebration, but it began with a focus on youth, not age. Fred’s young son, also named Frederick, was baptized by Bancroft Hill that morning, and an early lunch followed. Then preparations for the dinner began. Lonie mentioned in her letter to Fred years later that her preparations included making a place in the laundry room to sterilize and prepare baby food, as the group included several tiny children of the third generation.
The main event was a celebratory dinner the night of October 11. Tables were spread throughout the house, and gold and white decorations appeared everywhere. What did Frederick and Sarah feel when they sat at dinner, in the beautiful artisan-carved cherrywood dining room that Frederick had joked about when he got the cuckoo clock? Or as they looked into the parlor where the two long tables had allowed Frederick to work after dinner while his children did their school lessons? Memories must have crowded in on them. Perhaps they shared their thoughts with one another, or perhaps they were struck silent in the face of the happy evidence of their long family life together. Many friends from everywhere sent flowers, more than they could take care of in the house. A reception began at four o’clock in the afternoon, and Sarah was “resplendent” in her black chantilly lace dress, her face “radiant,” reported Lonie. Frederick had on his “conventional dress suit” and looked equally happy. Elizabeth, J. P.’s daughter and, at fifteen, the oldest of the grandchildren, wore Sarah’s wedding dress. Elizabeth looked fetching in the blue plaid outfit with a very full skirt that her grandmother had worn fifty years earlier. All of the matrons in the family, except for Sarah, wore their own wedding dresses for the occasion.
The celebration went on into the night, with dinner following the reception. The dinner was elaborate, and the program gives an unusual order: five poems were interspersed throughout the evening from reception through dinner. Only the Virginia reel put a stop to the family members’ literary efforts. Outstanding rhymes by Bancroft Hill and first cousin Apollonia Denkmann were among the offerings. Apollonia Denkmann had been at Wellesley with Elise and Margaret. Like Bancroft Hill, she had a gift for rhyme as well as wit, and she later covered herself in glory with her contributions to the thirtieth-year anniversary publication of her Wellesley class.
Much to the delight of those present, the food was outstanding. Lonie had engaged the cooks more than a year ahead of time to be certain that all would go well in the gastronomical department. A series of hors d’oeuvres began the affair, including jumbo shrimp cocktail and crab-stuffed mushroom caps. Dinner itself included “forest” salad with candied walnuts, beef filet with wine and wild mushrooms, scarlet snapper with citrus cream dill sauce, potatoes mélange, and Mediterranean medley vegetables. Dessert, for those who could still indulge, was berry torte with ice-cream log. The dessert plates of shining gold had the names of the ten grandchildren on the back, and each eventually received his or her plate. They have been handed down in the family from parents to children.
This lovely fête must have brought back bittersweet memories for Sarah. Her sister, Anna Catherine Bloedel Denkmann, with whom Sarah was living at the time of her marriage, disapproved of the union and “did not offer even so much as a cup of coffee on the day of the wedding.” Here, fifty years of faithful and companionable marriage later, a large and extended family, including many of the Denkmanns, had gathered to provide the festive air that was so lacking on her marriage day. Sadly, F. C. A. had died in 1905, and Anna Catherine had died in January of the Weyerhaeuser fiftieth-anniversary year.
The day after the gala dinner, a visit was organized to the Coal Valley area where Frederick and Sarah had spent the first twelve years of their family life. Harriette Weyerhaeuser, F. E.’s wife, wrote in her diary entry for that day that Frederick was “particularly full of fun” on the outing. He recalled that he had bought his house there for $151 at the Mead, Smith and Marsh auction. The first wagon he had purchased for the Coal Valley yard was still standing, and he inspected it with delight.
The following day, October 14, the steamer Weyerhaeuser left Rock Island at 1:15 PM with Sarah and Frederick, together with fourteen family members and several nurses. The boat arrived at St. Paul shortly before noon Thursday, October 17.
This entire affair was the culmination, for Frederick, of his long and happy family life. He wrote to his friends in Germany shortly after the celebration, in a letter dated October 15, 1907, apparently composed on his journey home: “I and Mrs. Weyerhaeuser went to our old home in Rock Island with our children and grandchildren, where we celebrated our golden wedding anniversary on the 11 of this month…All I can say about it is that we had a lovely and enjoyable time among friends and family. We want to thank God for his mercy and goodness that he gave us so many happy days and for his richest blessing which became new with us every morning.”