Against this backdrop, looking toward the hills behind the town, stands the local Protestant Cathedral, brown brick and rather modern in style. Almost as an aside, our tour guide pointed to the cathedral’s steeple and in particular to the metal orb at its apex. Cathedral staff, she told us, began many years ago to place church records into the orb to protect them. The practise continues to this day, with those responsible making regular deposits into this unusual repository. The genealogical part of my brain went into overdrive: Would I ever, I asked myself, have thought to ask an organisation, religious or secular, to check the orb atop their building for any records that might assist me in my research? This short, almost throwaway comment gave me fresh permission to question, even ruthlessly challenge, assumptions that undergird my current methodologies. Dancing the ‘family history happy dance’ on Miltenberg’s grey, cobbled streets gave me such joy and I was surprised and delighted all over again at the gems waiting for genealogists to discover them, often where and when we least expect it.
“I will interview them”, said the tour guide responsible for leading us through the historical and aesthetically spectacular Austrian city of Salzburg. We had just walked through the beautifully landscaped gardens of the Prince-Bishop’s palace. Outside the ornate, black gates our guide introduced us to two journeymen. Hearing that term caused my genealogical antennae to begin to quiver. I have seen it used as an occupation on census returns and understood that it meant simply “Apprentice”. Hearing this young couple describe their modern day lifestyle opened up my understanding of this word and what it could have meant in my ancestor’s time.
Salzburg held more in store for me than it is possible to tell here, but one experience struck a genealogical chord. A city within a city, St Peter’s Church, is more than a single building, impressive though the cathedral is. The complex currently includes an open square, function rooms with a restaurant and, in the hill behind it, a series of catacombs, into which members of the public can climb. There is also a small chapel next to a cemetery. And what a delightful cemetery it is. Quirky, historic, artistic. The graves are set into various ground levels, so while you stand at the foot of some, other graves are above the height of your head. Some markers, set into the sides of the various levels of undulating earth, are made of sandstone, engraved with the details of the deceased. Less familiar to my Australian eyes, were the metal, ornately and colourfully decorated markers, in different shapes and sizes that identified the graves that seemed to me to be randomly placed across the Church’s consecrated ground.
While taking in the beauty and historical resonance that surrounded me, I came across a modern war memorial with a freshly laid wreath. A delightful, elderly man was struggling to load film into his old fashioned camera. It never ceases to amaze me when I travel overseas, how possible it is to communicate when you don’t share a spoken language. I loaded the film for him and he wanted me to take a photograph of him in front of the memorial. He pointed out to me one of the oldest and most intriguing graves in the cemetery, dating to the 1500s. He indicated that he was moving on to the chapel and then, all of a sudden, he was gone. A moment in time, to be appreciated, then remembered. I would appreciate hearing from anyone, perhaps from GSQ’s Military or German Special Interest Groups, who could translate the inscription on the memorial for me. In this way I might be able to tell what drew my unnamed friend to this particular spot.
This cruise was a personal holiday. I expected to see cathedrals and synagogues, castles and ruins and stunning scenery. To take in history and culture, architecture, language and the arts. I was not disappointed. I didn’t expect to find genealogy but genealogy certainly found me!
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