Introduction – The Gotthelfts



In the spring of 1911 the  entrepreneur Albert Gotthelft and his wife Mathilde from Kassel commissioned a portrait of their daughter Julie.

They entrusted its execution to a painter who was one of the most sought-after portraitists of his time. Created in the following months, the painting is part of his late work and is now privately owned: a young woman sits at an open window, her back leaning against the frame. She has a slender figure, her green dress is simply cut. A small necklace of dark red stones and a thin gold bracelet on her wrist are the modest ornaments that emphasize her beauty: an even face, dark brown eyes and full hair tamed with a bow. Deep in thought, she looks from the picture towards the viewer. The fingers of her left hand hold a rose. The bright red of the petals stand out against the green of her dress and that of the trees behind the window and further connect with the bright red of her cheeks and lips. The portrait was a gift from her parents for her 16th birthday in August 1911. Why did the painter pick the rose as a symbol? For the happiness that should have been granted to the daughter of a good family in later life?
Julie Gotthelft im Jahre 1911
Hermann Knackfuß (1848-1915): Portrait of Julie Gotthelft, 1911, oil on canvas, ca. 50 x 70 cm, private collection.
 The painting hung in the parlor of her parent‘s apartment in Spohrstraße. When a visitor entered the room, he first saw the young woman with her thoughtful eyes. The painting spoke of the couple's pride in their daughter - and it spoke of the Gotthelft family's economic success and their social standing in the city. For those who did not understand how to read the painter's brushstrokes, his signature in the lower right corner told them that also a Gotthelft could commission artists who created art for the German imperial family and the Prussian nobility.


The Gotthelfts had acquired their wealth, through hard work, tireless diligence and wise decisions and their prestige, through great civic and public spirit:

The Gotthelfts had acquired their wealth, through hard work, tireless diligence and wise decisions and their prestige, through great civic and public spirit: they were involved in associations and public committees and donated to social, cultural and patriotic causes. As late as in Julie's childhood days, Adolph Gotthelft, whose brother Carl had founded the company, was still at the head of the family. After Carl's early death, Adolph and his wife Fanny formed the center of the Gotthelfts, who gathered at the couple's villa on holidays and Sundays. In his memoirs of the good old days, their son Richard gives a  lively and sentimental account of their weekly gatherings:
 "Sunday evenings [sic] all children and grandchildren were gathered there and over the years the table in the large dining room was drawn out more and more thanks to the growth of the family. How beautiful those evenings were and with what joy we were entertained there! A peculiar magic created  such a family atmosphere that the hours we were allowed to spend there, flew by in the blink of an eye. When time advanced and reminded us to leave, it was still too early for our little mother, who masterfully knew how to win us at least another quarter of an hour stay. On those Sunday evenings also friends of the children and grandchildren were often welcome guests at the villa."
Richard Gotthelft, Erinnerungen aus guter alter Zeit - Memories from good old times, Kassel 1922, S. 36.
Adolph and Fanny's guests also included Carl's sons Wilhelm, Theodor and Albert with their families. At the dinner table Julie, who was then around six or seven years old, sat next to her cousins who were only slightly younger or older. The girls' thick dark hair was, as their grandfather said, an inheritance from their great-grand aunt Therese, who by marrying into the family had brought it from Dresden to Kassel. At table the girls sat up straight, ate and drank, as the strict rules of the time demanded even of children. After the meal they folded their hands in their laps. In such manner they listened to their aunt with the black hair- which was also theirs - and to family milestones, which grandfather kept reminding them of: once, twice, three times, four times.... He was assisted by Richard, who gently corrected him when his father's memory went astray or added what father forgot. Adolph Gotthelft was a narrator who was easy to listen to, because he slipped into different characters, imitating their voice, gestures and facial expressions.

Attentively, with wide eyes and pricked-up ears Julie followed the stories.

The little that her childish mind was able to grasp was imprinted on her in pictures: the old house with sloping floors; the soldiers in colorful uniforms taking away books and printed sheets of paper; the children - just her age - sitting in front of their plates, drinking water with their meager meal, because there was no money for milk; the man trying to get his boots out of the mud; the boy running through the street enthusiastically shouting the word "victory" over and over again; the machine, so large that it could not fit through the archway; and finally, the heavy coat of arms that craftsmen set as a keystone into a large portal arch. To her it was the most fabulous picture of them all, because when telling the story, grandfather always used the word "royal".
 When she outgrew infancy, her grandfather was already dead. Instead of him, his son, her uncle Richard answered her questions about what sha had previously not understood or barely understood. The pictures were given content and context and were supplemented by further episodes. Like a jigsaw puzzle that fits together piece by piece the story of her family, the Gotthelfts, was completed in the hours chatting with her uncle. The gaps that still existed were filled  by the memoirs that Richard published much later - in 1922, the year of her marriage - "intended only for children, grandchildren and other descendants, not for strangers." (Memories, p. 3). She guarded the narrow volume that had appeared in the smallest edition number possible like a treasure and read in it regularly, especially often during the dark years.
Richard Gotthelft: Erinnerungen
Richard Gotthelft, Memories from good old times.


In 1841, her great-uncle Carl Gotthelft, who had learned the typesetting trade, founded a print shop in her parents' house in Mittelgasse 31.

 The words "parental home" and "print shop", which she had heard so often in her childhood and youth, described the facts accurately, but they made their beginning more important than it was: In the old house Carl's parents occupied "two narrow, small rooms" on the second floor facing the street. "Facing the courtyard were two bedrooms." The other rooms on that and other floors were rented out. The address book of the city of Kassel for the year 1857 provides information about the residents at that time: at the very top, under the roof, lived - each in a tiny room - the small merchant Meyer and the office servant Kaiser, on the floor below lived the machinist Hammerschlag and the master cooper Braun with his family. One floor below were the parents' rooms and those of the master shoemaker Mösta - and finally, on the ground floor in two not too large rooms was the print shop. On all floors the "floor in the front rooms [...] went downhill, so to speak, so dilapidated was the house" (Gotthelft, Memories, p. 10).
The inventory of the print shop consisted of only a wooden hand press, which Carl had acquired second-hand together with some typesets; the staff consisted of himself and a helper who assisted him in operating the machine. In the beginning it was mainly friends, acquaintances and relatives who helped the small enterprise to generate income with orders and eager word of mouth. When Adolph, whom his older brother had trained as a typesetter, returned from his journeyman- wandering years and joined the company, it had to support two families.
In his retrospective, Richards touchingly describes how for many years Carl and Adolph lived modestly with their families in cramped conditions. Extreme economy in clothing and food was top priority, "only what was absolutely necessary for life [was] allowed to be purchased and consumed ." Instead of milk, water was drunk, clothes were made or mended by sewing on worn-out clothes and the few rooms were used as living and sleeping quarters at the same time. In order to keep expenses low, wives, children and relatives helped "in the business" folding the printed sheets, enveloping them, coating the dies with ink. The working days of the brothers and their wives began early at six and lasted until late in the evening. Those were meager years in which nothing moved forward and business stagnated.


In 1853, grandfather and great-uncle finally took the decisive step on their way to success.
On November 4, the Gewerbliches Tageblatt und Anzeiger für Kassel und die Umgebung appeared as a sample number with a circulation of 150 copies, produced on the wooden hand press that was still the only machine in the print shop 13 years after the company had been founded. The sample number had a total of four pages, printed on two sheets of paper. In November Adolph set out from Kassel on "forays into the surrounding areas and, despite the cold winter weather, doing the rounds in surrounding towns and villages" in order to gain subscribers for the young newspaper. With a few copies of the sample issue in his backpack, he traveled on foot or on a wagon heading in the same direction, to Fritzlar, Grebenstein, Felsberg, Melsungen, Großalmerode and Ziegenhain. The arduous journeys led over muddy paths. Once grandfather got stuck after getting down from the cart. This detail formed the climax of his narrative at the Sunday dinner table: against all etiquette grandfather rose from his chair and, with expressive movements, imitated holding his boots by the shank so as not to lose them, while pulling his legs out of the sticky mud.
Die Zeitung der Gotthelfts
The newspaper head of number 1, December 5, 1853 (microfilm copy).
 On December 5, 1853 the brothers published the first issue of the newspaper in 400 copies. Thus began their rise. The names of the first subscribers, who entrusted him with their good money in advance on his advertising trips through mud and snow for the subscription of a newspaper that could have folded after a few issues, were still mentioned with grateful respect by Adolph Gotthelft in his stories five decades later. Among them were district administrator Weber in Fritzlar, postmaster Veith and soap boiler Dietrich, in Großalmerode baker Wilhelm Geyer, in Melsungen the stationmaster Hoffmann and in Münden the miller Scheede. According to their possibilities they congratulated on the one-year, five-year, ten-year and twenty-year anniversary of the newspaper, to which they remained loyal throughout its ups and downs, with a card, a letter, a bouquet, a bouquet of flower or a gift basket.
The Tageblatt did not catapult the brothers forward in a few weeks or months. It grew slowly, in small steps that required tenacious, patient and painstaking work day in and day out. It was not until 1869, 16 years after the newspaper first appeared that the company had grown to the point where "a large composing and machine room could be built, as far as space allowed, a generator powered by steam and a double-barrel press could be purchased and an office and editorial room could be set up" (Memories, p. 63).

It took another ten years until income allowed the business to move from the narrow Mittelgasse to the wide Kölnische Strasse  and there into a large, stately and representative building at number 10. In 1879, 38 years after the founding of the company, Carl and Adolph Gotthelft had made the leap to the so-called newspaper district around the Kölnische Strasse where their competitors also resided with their companies. The material success, a prerequisite for the move, was the reward for a development effort that had taken almost two generations.


The Gotthelfts: Royal Court Book Printers
From 1896  a mighty coat of arms had been emblazoned in stone above the entrance gate in the central area of Kölnische Strasse 10. For any visitor coming in, it underlined that the company entering regularly carried out printing jobs for the emperor's court camp on Wilhelmshöhe and that its owners were therefore allowed to call themselves "royal court book printers".

The title "royal“ can be explained because of the power relations of the time: the German Emperor was also King of Prussia in a personal union to whose dominion Kurhessen and thus also Kassel had belonged since 1866. On the morning when the coat of arms was set into the gate‘s arch by two sturdy craftsmen, Wilhelm, Albert, Theodor and Richard Gotthelft, who in the meantime were running the company together, stood on the sidewalk along with old Adolph Gotthelft, heads lifted upwards, watching the progress of the work. In hushed voices they regretted that Carl - the brother, father or uncle - and his wife Therese, who had played a major role in the success of the Gotthelft project with her industriousness in business and household, her clever management and her care, were no longer able to experience the event that all of Kassel was talking about. Carl had died in 1880, barely a year after the print shop moved to Kölnische Strasse and his wife Therese had already died in 1869. Four floors of the building rose above the men with side wings to their left and right: the first floor of the left wing housed the paper and stationery store and the first floor of the right wing housed the business office.
Self-promotion:
advertisements in the Casseler Tageblatt and Anzeiger of the year 1888
(microfilm copies).
Julie completed what she had heard with her own experience:  she would pass through the entrance gate and would swing the door leaf open under the pressure of her father's hand. With the other hand he would hold her‘s from since they would have left the apartment on the second floor of Spohrstraße 4. The walk would take less than ten minutes: after leaving the house they would change sidewalk by crossing the street, then they would turn left and stride down the street to its junction with Kölnische Straße. She would trot with her child-like stride at her father's side and well-behavedly greet back whenevr he and she were greeted, which happened very often. At the intersection they would go a few more feet to the left and then would stand infront of the imposing building. It also impressed Julie when one of the clerks who had seen the tall and short figure approaching, would beat her father to it and dutifully yank the door panel open and hold it until they had entered. The employees, who were busy at the counters of the receiving office on the right, would nod to her in a friendly manner, hint at a wave or hand her a sweet, for which she would thank them with a curtsy.
And on they would go, through the back offices to the machine halls. As it seemed to her the high-speed lithographic presses and the rotary presses were towering over her. Her father would often approach a machine operator with a question, who would then take off his sweaty cap, which in turn caused his father to put his hand on the operator‘s upper arm in a soothing gesture, to let him know that his reverential manner wasn't necessary after all. But it was necessary in those days and for both of them the obvious thing to do.


TO BE CONTINUED...

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