Sleuthing for Ignaz (article) by Florence Byham Weinberg on AuthorsDen

Research can be a great adventure. Here is the story of a search for background on my detective, a real-life Jesuit missionary. February-March 2006 I have written three historical mysteries featuring the eighteenth-century Jesuit, Ignaz Pfefferkorn, S.J. (Sonora Wind, Ill Wind; I'll Come To Thee By Moonlight; and The Storks of La Caridad). Ignaz, who served as missionary in the Sonora Desert from 1756-1767, was expelled with all Jesuits from Spain and her colonies in 1767, imprisoned for ten years in Spain on suspicion of treason. He spent the last two years of his prison time in the Monastery of La Caridad near Ciudad Rodrigo, Spain. The Elector of Cologne was alerted by Ignaz' sister Isabella Berntges of his whereabouts, and after lengthy negotiations, succeeded in freeing him, on Christmas Eve, 1777. He then returned to Germany. But where? I had been curious from the beginning about that return home, about which no one knew anything: not the historians, not the Vatican, not even the Jesuits themselves. All sources agreed that he was born in Mannheim, the large German city where the Rhine and the Neckar flow together. Should I begin there? My friend Ralph Freedman had already spent three days searching the archives there, but the Allies had burned most of the holdings with incendiary bombs in World War II, and he found nothing. This past February, I decided to begin my further search not in Mannheim but in Cologne. After all, Ignaz had published his book, Sonora, a Description of the Province (Beschreibung der Landschaft Sonora) there in 1794-95. First, Ralph and I went to the public library, and were steered to the Cathedral Library and to the Diocesan Archive, neither of which had been bombed. In the Cathedral, we found nineteenth-century secondary sources that told of the difficulties the German Jesuits had in being accepted by the Spanish branch of the Society, and, after they were imprisoned in Spain at Puerto de Santa Mar�a (the port of C�diz), how they were treated. From there, we went to the Diocesan Archive. Ralph, a native German, allowed me with my limping German to explain to the archivist whom we were seeking and why. The archivist clearly considered us a pair of tourists, interlopers who had no serious purpose. "Ah, yes, Pfefferkorn. There are so many families of that name in this part of Germany�" He pulled the 'P' volume off the shelf of books recording the holdings of the archive. He opened it and there I read, "Pfefferkorn, 1785." "That's him!" I cried, leaning forward with eagerness. "Very unlikely. As I said, there are many Pfefferkorns in the region,"-and he closed the book and replaced it on the shelf. "You say he was a Jesuit?" The archivist's voice seemed to reflect some distaste. "In that case, go to the City Archives. They have all the Jesuit documents." We searched the City Archives the next day, finding many interesting documents by and about the Jesuits up to 1773, the year when Pope Clement XIV suppressed the Society altogether. Then nothing. I continued to search, and found a proclamation by the Rector of the University of Cologne, stating that henceforth no ex-Jesuit would be allowed to teach in the University or in any school in the city. Poor Ignaz, I thought. He and all his brothers are out on the street starving, with no way to earn their daily bread. I asked if I could photocopy the document, but was told no, but I could take a picture with a camera. I should come back next day. My research trip coincided with Fasching in Cologne. Fasching, an extended Mardi Gras, peaked that next day; everyone in costume, the entire city closed for the holiday, nearly everyone drunk by 10:00 a.m. There would be no photograph taken in the City Archive that day! Ralph and I sat in a restaurant, racking our brains. What to do next? Father Ygnacio Pfefferkorn, S.J Below: detail of signature It came to me during that night. I have a portrait of Ignaz that I sketched--an imaginary portrait--but the signature underneath was scanned from a baptismal certificate in the archive at Tumac�cori National Park in Arizona. That was genuine. We would return to the Diocesan Archive and ask that the 1785 document be produced, so we could compare handwriting, perhaps signatures. The following day, we found a second archivist on duty, who was eager to help. He produced photocopies of four documents under the one number and label, "Pfefferkorn, 1785." They proved to be a nomination of an Ignaz von Pfefferkorn to be Vicar of a small town about ten miles south of Bonn, Unkel-am-Rhein. The nominator, a woman, called him her "extremely erudite, highborn uncle." Ralph and I looked at each other. I lamented, "Von Pfefferkorn? Our missionary was not, to my knowledge, a nobleman!" The second document was a power of attorney, signed by "Ignaz Pfefferkorn," but the signature was not at all the same. "It must be a different Pfefferkorn." We got up to leave. The archivist kindly gave us the documents he had printed, and we were almost at the door, when Ralph looked again at the signature of the person who had nominated her uncle and suddenly shouted. "Maria Catharina Vogt, n�e Berntges. BERNTGES! It IS our man! His sister Isabella's daughter is nominating him to be Vicar!" The mystery of the signature on the second document was solved when we realized that the power of attorney was made out to Andreas Josephus Leinen, who also (in his distinctive handwriting) signed for Ignaz when the document was filed in Bonn. The third document was a record of filing the petition in Cologne (diocesan headquarters) and the fourth document, in Latin, showed that Ignaz had, indeed, been named Vicar of Unkel. Our kindly archivist found several other documents relating to the Berntges family, but they were in the church archive in Unkel. We tried but were unable (on this trip) to get access to them, but did drive to Unkel, a beautiful, picture-worthy village right on the banks of the river. We took pictures of buildings that would have been there in Ignaz' time, and of 'his' 13th-century church, inside and outside-a beautiful environment for our Ignaz, who had suffered so badly. We decided that the Elector must have granted him a title of nobility, when he procured his release from the custody of King Carlos III. While at the Cathedral Library, we had discovered that Ignaz' birthplace was "Mannheim bei Bergheim." We both thought that strange, since we don't usually say San Antonio near Seguin, or Albuquerque near Bernalillo, but the other way 'round. When we walked into the archive in Mannheim, we immediately asked the location of Bergheim. "Bergheim? Bergheim? There's no Bergheim here!" The archivist looked into the postal directory, and found four Bergheims, one near Cologne. "Let's look around there! Is there a village called Mannheim close by?" When a map was produced, sure enough, there was a tiny place called Manheim (with one 'n'). At last, we knew the real birthplace of Ignaz Pfefferkorn! We'll be returning in September to continue the search. But that's not the end of the story! Part Two, September 2006 I flew into Frankfurt airport on September 3, met my fellow researcher, assistant and friend Ralph Freedman there, and together we proceeded to Hamburg where we visited the wife of Ralph's childhood friend, rented a car and for the next five days visited more friends in Southern Germany. Then we drove to Unkel. Unkel, a jewel of a town, is about ten miles south of Bonn, maybe 30 south of Cologne, right on the Rhine. The core of the town is little changed from the 18th century, though new houses are being built around the perimeter. In the center, streets are narrow, barely wide enough for one car, cobblestoned, and businesses open directly on the street. The streets converge on plazas with a central tree or fountain, where local pubs or bakeries put out tables and chairs for customers to enjoy a beer, the excellent local wine, or coffee and the latest confection. Many houses are half-timber, dating back to the 16th-17th centuries. We stayed for the first three nights in the Rheinhotel Schulz, right on the Rhine with a beautiful view up and down the Rhine Valley, an elegant and correspondingly expensive hotel. We explained to the receptionist/concierge that we would be in Unkel for at least two weeks, and needed less expensive lodgings. She immediately recommended neighboring G�stehof Korf (Hotel Korf), which not only has elegant rooms for $28 per person per day, breakfast included, but turned out to be Ignaz' niece, Maria Catharina Vogts', former dwelling. I was walking in halls and out of doors Ignaz had frequented! The modern hotel Korf is built into what was formerly ware- or storehouses; the family house is now vacant and sits between the Korf and Schulz hotels. Rheinhotel Schulz was formerly the property of Ignaz' family on his mother's side, the Eschenbrenders. (The modern hotel wants the former Vogts family home torn down for easier access to its parking lot. Shades of the US!) My room on second floor looked directly into the upper floor windows of the Vogts house, and I could distinctly see Ignaz' ghost striding up and down there in his black robe, his hands clasped behind his back. We were welcomed into the Pfarrarchiv (Church Archive) of Unkel by Herr Robert Bieding and the efficient and knowledgeable Church Secretary, Frau Annemarie Lehmann. We began our search, but were hampered by the difficult 18th-century German handwriting that uses completely different shapes for letters than modern 'Latin' script. Before the first week was half over, Herr Rudolf Vollmer arrived on the scene, the official Archivist at Unkel who had been-and still was, really-on vacation. He immediately set to work to help us. Eventually, we got the following information together: Ignaz' great uncle, Gottfried Eschenbrender, had been pastor of Unkel's St. Pantaleon Church at the turn of the 17th-18th centuries, and had spent thousands of ducats embellishing the church. St. Pantaleon's contains treasures far beyond most village (and most middle-sized town or small city) churches. Built in the 13th century, it houses art works from that period through the early 18th: an ancient baptismal font, a highly decorated and precious casket containing relics of St. Pantaleon, statues, paintings, wood sculptures, a stone bas relief, precious golden sacred vessels and brocade vestments, a magnificent organ-the list is lengthy. The Eschenbrenders married first into the Berntges family and then the Vogts, and it was Isabella (Pfefferkorn) Berntges who rescued Ignaz from Spanish prison. Later, her daughter Maria Catharina Vogts found an official church function for him, with enough pay to enable him to be independent. We now know (as the Library of Congress and the Vatican do not) that Ignaz died on June 16, 1798 and was buried on June 18 in the old church graveyard at St. Servatius Church in Siegburg. We know that his father died when he was 11, his mother when he was 14, and he entered the Society of Jesus in Trier under the guidance of his uncle Pantaleon Eschenbrender, S.J., at age 17. We know that his book, Sonora, a Description of the Province, (vol. 1 published by G. Langen in Cologne in 1794, vol. 2 in 1795) was written in three volumes, the third an account of Ignaz' personal experiences. It received official permission in 1792 for publication from both church and state authorities, but was never printed and has since disappeared. I am convinced it was judged 'politically incorrect' by the press and suppressed. If any of you out there have an inkling of its whereabouts, let me know! We know about the fortunes and later misfortunes of Ignaz' sister Isabella, and the good fortune of the Vogts family. We know that most if not all of Ignaz' ancestors on the Pfefferkorn side as well as the Eschenbrender, were mayors, jurists, city councilors and the like, in Mannheim, D�sseldorf, and in the villages round about. We know that his immediate ancestors were half patrician, half noble. Therefore, when his niece writes his name Ignaz von Pfefferkorn, we know he had a right to the title by inheritance. We know a good deal about the condescending and prejudicial attitude toward ex-Jesuits that was prevalent in the area at the time-and that may well have prevented Ignaz from being employed as a professor, a teacher, and maybe even as an active priest. We know that he was appointed Vicar at St. Pantaleon Church, but gave up the practice of his office at once. He did keep the stipend, however! We know he was in Unkel and nearby Rheinbreitbach for the first eight years after his release from Spanish prison, and that thereafter until his death, he was in Siegburg. What we DON'T know is: what was he doing for 20 years other than writing his book?? I intend to write a fourth Pfefferkorn mystery, but will have to fill in that huge gap with my imagination-unless one of YOU has the third volume of his book and can enlighten me�. I flew home on October 5. �
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