Paris Dress Design in Chicago

S.S. Geroge Washington
photo credit: www.norwayheritage.co

Louise Woschkeruscha, my maternal grandmother, boarded the S.S. George Washington on March 8, 1913, a month after leaving three years of paid apprenticeship and another three years as journey-woman in the Viennese clothing salon of master dressmaker, Elise Vogel. 

Hans's "Passenger Record," created by Ellis Island's

American Family Immigration History Center

Louise arrived in New York Harbor nine days later. She planned to meet  up with her brother, Hans, who had left the year before on the very same ship, entering the United States on May 23, 1912, a century ago. Leaving his abusive and hated father behind, Hans arrived with the skills of a wagon maker and carpenter, giving him an edge over the mostly unskilled immigrants pouring into the country at the same time. I assume Louise moved in with her brother, but I can't say for certain. 

Louise's "Passenger Record," created by Ellis Island's
American Family Immigration History Center

A few months later, in October of 1913, she wrote a letter to Frau Vogel about her new life, starting with her voyage across the Atlantic. The contents make it clear they had corresponded before, but unlike my paternal grandmother who saved every letter, this is one of just a couple of  missives I have from or to Louise (and why I have a letter Louise wrote, is a puzzle). Here are excerpts from that letter.

October 1, 1913

Dear Frau Vogel, 

Louise's 10/1/1913 letter to Frau Vogel

I have received your letter with thanks and joy, I was really very pleased that you wrote yourself because I know how hard writing is for you, and yet you were the first one who has [written me].
Now I want to tell you a little about my journey and how I’m doing.
When I left home, I didn’t realize what a huge trip I had ahead of me.

I had absolutely no fear when I saw the enormous water, and did not become sick at all. You cannot really become fearful. First there is always entertainment on the ship: evening concerts, and by day there are varied games, like one might play at a party. Very nice people are there so that I was never scared.

After her arrival, Louise was cheerful and optimistic about her prospects.

Louise and brother, Hans Woschkeruscha 
(later John Miller) probably in Chicago

I can hardly believe I’m in America! [After arriving in New York], we had to travel two days and two nights in 2nd class on the fast train [to Chicago]. Everyone spoke only English and I couldn’t understand a word. That struck me as so funny, I laughed and laughed. I really had fun on the trip so that I hardly had any homesickness. 

Louise rested up for one week before placing an ad in the newspaper, marketing her skills as a dressmaker. She continued her letter, describing the Parisian styles of fine clothing she is creating. It sounds like a very exclusive dress-making shop.

I immediately got a job, where I am now. We make only silk and lace dresses, and some of the dresses cost $100! We make them just like the crazy fashions in Paris chic. In America, people wear a lot of red.

Louise Woschkeruscha-date uncertain

The vests and the blouses are heavily gathered at the top and are worn under the hips. The widths are 28-30 by American measure, which is about 80-90cm in our measure. 

I still don't know English because I work with Germans and only German is spoken. From October 6 on, I'll go to evening school....When I know some English, I would like to earn a little more.

Evenings I go to the cinema and Sunday afternoons to the German concert. You write me, dear Frau Vogel, whether I'm afraid. Still never. I would only like to have my parents here. You'd really have to search throughout America to find such a woman as my mother!

I end my writing and hope that it finds you in the best of health. Heartfelt greetings from your former, thankful worker, Luisa. 

Louise undoubtedly met many young German-speaking men at the concerts she attended, perhaps even at the cinema, but it would be several years before she found a man whose affections she felt she could trust, given her smallpox-scarred face. Next week we'll meet that man––John Koroschetz, also from Austria, who had his own tale of physical––and emotional loss.

P.S. If you missed the interview with me that gives the backstory on this blog go to this link Digging Up Family History or to the previous post, to learn more about the interviewer, Joan Brunwasser. 

Dress Designer Extraordinaire

Dress Designer
Alöisia Woschkeruscha 1912

March is Women’s History Month, and a topic for this month’s Carnival of Genealogy (CoG) is to write about a female relative. Thanks especially to Jasia at Creative Gene for hosting the CoG.

Regular readers of this blog have met Elisabetha (Lisi) Ebner, my paternal grandmother. This CoG gives me an opportunity to introduce you to my mother’s mother, Alöisia Koroschetz, née Woschkeruscha (VAUSH-ker-UZH-uh). (She was nicknamed Luisa -- or Louise, in America. My middle name is taken from her).

She was born May 4, 1886, in Wiener-Neudorf, Austria, south of Vienna, to Johann and Therese Woschkeruscha. We don’t know much about Johann’s forefather’s, but Therese was the daughter of Anna and Paul Müller (Miller). Paul’s surname was also his profession. He owned and operated a successful flour mill, which will be the subject a future post.

From family lore, I learned that as a young child, Alöisia and her sister had contracted smallpox. Her father supposedly ran through the night to get a doctor when his little girls were burning up with fever. My mother told me the little sister died. Alöisia lived, but her face had been disfigured with pock scars, making her self-conscious of her appearance throughout her life. While her photos show her to be dramatically good-looking, we can’t see the pits that made her feel she was ugly.

Later in life, she felt compelled to have acid applied to her face to smooth out her ravaged skin. But it couldn’t smooth out her psyche. My mom said she was convinced no man would ever fall in love with her because of the scars, and, that may have influenced Alöisia to pursue a career. Nevertheless, her artistic skills were undeniable.

She was “a graduated dressmaker from Vienna,” a mantra she repeated over and over to my mother, Lillian, and which Mom, in turn, repeated to us children. In an era when virtually every girl was required to learn all manner of needlework, there’s no doubt that Alöisia had exceptional talent.

Embroidery Sampler
 A.W. 1897

I have framed two samplers she made when she was quite young. We can see her initials and the date (AW - 1897) on this embroidery sampler she created at the age of eleven. Eleven! I haven’t seen enough samplers that other eleven-year-old girls created as a comparison, but I find the perfection in every detail simply amazing. The other is a sampler of various crochet stitches. Again we can see her initials, but this beautiful forty-two-inch-long stretch of eleven different crochet stitches has no date. At an early age, her talents were visible--and she decided to pursue her gifts beyond just home and hearth. She wanted to have a profession, and that put her ahead of her time.

Crochet Sampler

Among our family documents is her Lehrbrief, which translates to "Apprentice Certificate," proof that she has completed her apprenticeship, which she began three years earlier, July 1, 1906. It comes from the “Association of Clothing Manufacturers in Baden near Vienna” declaring Alöisia “competent to make women’s clothing,” and praising her as "true, industrious, and morally upright!" It’s dated July 1, 1909, and the Lehrbrief is a work of art in itself. As we move around the document, all sorts of cool details emerge.

Apprentice Certificate 1909

At the left of the document are symbols of the dressmaking profession: scissors, thread, and an iron. Near the top are a thimble and needle. My favorite is in the upper right. As we zoom in we can see a drawing of a naked man and woman in a large wooden tub--a seeming precursor to the hot tub! Did someone just slip that in as a joke or does it symbolize the importance of the dressmaker to keep the public decent? Check out the photographic details at the end of the post.

Alöisia had to complete a “Master Work.” The photo at the top is Alöisia posing in the dress she designed and created to get her degree. The photo is dated 1912, so six years passed from the time she began her studies to the date of this photo. It may be hard to see the detail on this blog post, but the dress is stunning. The skirt is splashed with pearls, small satin bows run vertically down the chest, and tiny rosettes edge the high collar. It had always rankled her that she walked away with only second prize, knowing her creation was the finest in the class. Of course, the mayor’s daughter had to take first.

Scissors, thread, iron
Details from Lehrbrief

Maybe that kind of favoritism made her decide she’d be better off finding work across the ocean--because a year after her “master piece” picture was taken, in 1913, she wrote a letter back home to her dress-making teacher, named on the above Lehrbrief--Frau Vogl, about her new job in America. Unlike Lisi, she had no man waiting to marry her. She had set out to make it on her own.

Naked man and woman in "hot tub"
upper right detail in Lehrbrief!