Edwin
Krahenbuhl and The EigerWhat family stories did you hear from your parents and grandparents? What family-related experiences have you had that helped shape who you are? Humorous or serious, our stories give us a sense of identity. Whether about your own immediate family or a broader section of the extended family, your story will be enjoyed by many others. Send contributions to: meads@spiritone.com
It was in autumn 1793, when Napoleon Bonaparte, at the time just an ordinary artillery officer of the French army, stood before the town of Toulon in Southern France, with his battery of artillery cannoneers. After shooting for days, the ammunition (black powder) started to run short and the English and Spanish occupiers of Toulon, were tough defenders and just didn't want to give in.
When Napoleon once stood behind a cannon and watched the cannoneers at work from close range, one of the soldiers came up to him and said:" Excuse me Sire, my name is Chrajebüel Christen from Eggiwyl, I would like to ask, if you permit mon commandant, have you never heard of that old and famous Berne-powder?"
Bonaparte shook his head: "No, never heard of it, what is with it?"
Chräjebüel, who was one of the several Swiss mercenaries serving in the French army at that time, boosted: "Well, if we had some of this Berne-powder, I guarantee you that the walls and towers of Toulon would crash within a day or two!"
Bonaparte was quite impressed, didn't hesitate too long and said: "Alright, we have already tried so many different stuff and to no avail, why not try this Berne-powder. Can you get it for me?"
Chräjebüel banged his heels together and saluted: "Mais oui, Monsieur, I can go to Berne right away, if you wish. However, Berne-powder is not exactly cheap, the Bernese authorities will not just give it away for nothing".
This didn't bother Napoleon too much, he left and came back the next day with a piece of paper which he gave to Chräjebüel: "Take, this is a check to the Bernese Canton Bank. Now, take two men of your choice, rush to Berne and bring back enough of Berne-powder, it's very urgent!"
Chräjebüel did what he was ordered to do and went off to Berne. There, however, it wasn't as easy as he thought, to get that famous ammunition. None of the aldermen of the town council were willing and eager to trust this common French army mercenery and he was sent from one councillor to the other, to explain his problem.
Chräjebüel got more and more desperate, time was pressing, his thoughts went back to Toulon where Napoleon was desperately waiting for his return. "What a shame" said Chräjebüel to himself, "if I have to go back and report to Napo "'sorry, no go'". But luck turned to him when he finally met councillor Herr von Wattenwyl, whom he remembered from the time when he came to Eggiwyl for hunting and inspecting the forests of the region. He, Chräjebüel, used to take care of his horses.
Von Wattenwyl did not hesitate, he knew Chräjebüel was a good and trustworthy lad, arranged with the chief of the military, that a huge load of Berne-powder be prepared for "export to France". With regards and best wishes for Bonaparte's further career, (he was sure that after the big success due to using Berne-powder, Napoleon would rise fast up the ladder), Herr von Wattenwyl sent Chräjebüel back to Toulon.
The next morning after his arrival there, Napoleon hadimmediately directed all the available cannons towards the Fortress of the town, distributed the Berne-powder and initiated a bombardment like the occupiers had never seen and heard before. Toulon fell within a day, the news travelled to Paris fast and in consequence, Napoleon Bonaparte was promoted to General de Brigade, a first big step to the top.
And Chräjebüel was ever so happy that his clever move with the Berne-powder, which was twice as strong as ordinary black powder, had worked out well. Napoleon wanted to thank him by offering him the rank of lance corporal, "or anything you like to have, as long as it is in my power". Chräjebüel was emotionally moved and also a bit proud, but: "no thanks, the corporal does not interest me. However, if I may wish, I would like to be your private aide, I shall look after your uniform and stuff, and surely take well care of your horses, that's what I know best."
Bonaparte was somewhat surprised that a man could be so humble and refuse the corporal's strings, but he said: "Very well, as from now, you are in charge of my horses and all my private things. I shall call you by your first name Christen and you can call me Nappi!" They shook hands, drank a beer together and celebrated their new friendship.
Edwin
Krahenbuhl and The EigerTwenty years ago I made my first visit to Switzerland. In preparing for the trip I ran across some interesting links to the name Krahenbuhl that you might find of interest.
One of the places we visited was Grindewald, home of the famed "killer" mountain, The Eiger, and I read Heinrich Harrer's fascinating account of the early climbs of the North Face of the Eiger. Back in the 1930's it was considered the ultimate climbing achievement and a number of the world's top climbers perished in the attempt to be first to ascend the north face of the Eiger.
Much of the fascination with the Eiger north face was that the entire climb, 1 vertical mile, required all the skills of rock climbing, ice-climbing, and endurance, and the efforts of any team of climbers were completely observable by spectators with telescopes watching from the safety and considerable comfort of a luxury hotel at the base of the mountain, Kleine Scheidegg. The peril of the face was due in part to falling stones which fell from above. As the day warmed, the ice fields were peppered with an artillary barrage of falling rocks.
Add to this peril the fact that the north face was concave and had a peculiar characteristic of collecting and holding its own extreme weather. Bad storms would approach from the south, unnoticed by the climbers, and envelope the mountain in clouds of snow or freezing rain, while gawking tourists basked in sunshine a mile away at the hotel.
Before the face was successfully climbed by a 4 man team headed by Heinrich Harrer in 1938, a half dozen men died in the attempt. They slipped and fell, then died of exposure and were left for months in full view dangling from a rope or frozen solid to the rock. There were no rescue helicopters then. No radios. Equipment was primitive. The nature of the face was such that once committed to the climb you could not safely retreat. You died or you climbed up and out.
According to Harrer's excellent book on the Eiger, White Spider : The Classic Account of the Ascent of the Eiger, named after the uppermost snowfield on the face, August of 1936 saw a young Swiss Guide, Edwin Krähenbühl, and his partner get 2/3 of the way up when they were trapped by a storm. The following day their upward escape was blocked by ice-covered rock and they started to climb down. They became the first to successfully retreat from the north face of the Eiger.
I would like to think that Edwin Krahenbuhl was a relative and that I have inherited his genes for unquestioned bravery, coupled with the common sense and will to back away from a truly insurmountable obstacle.--Submitted by Jim Krahenbuhl of Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Photo by Jim Krahenbuhl.
Editor's Note: The Eiger Mountain is located in the Canton of Bern.
(While I was looking for a link to show you the Eiger, I found this little mind-game...enjoy! http://www.powerup.com.au/~mindgym/guest/blgoats.htm)(And here's one person's story of climbing the Eiger in 1997-- http://www.climbing.ie/exped/eiger/eiger.html)
There once was a Washington County Pennsylvania citizen that lived in the 1800's named Joel Grable. He was an average farmer most of his life, but towards the end of his life, he inherited a great deal of land through his wife's father, who was a wealthy man. Anyway, this land is in Fallowfield Township, and the legal situation about who's it is is TECHNICALLY the most direct living decendant of Joel Grable, yet since nobody has come forward to take it, it has been unofficially reaquired by the Township, and has since had TONS of business put up on it (roughly 400 acres). The land's value now is in the millions counting all of its businesses, and a stipulation in the law would make it legal for Joel's most direct decendant to claim it, but this "Joel" is a sketchy figure, and it's been hard to determine who that person is, so "Joel's Millions" remains unclaimed, and has become the most significant genealogical inheritance story in Washington County, and maybe even the state... Just think all you Grables....a little research and a good legal team may be all that stands in between you and millions of dollars.--Submitted by Darrell Grable of Washington Co. Pennsylvania
Kraybill, accompanied by a younger brother who was tending the brake (on a horse-drawn covered wagon), was enroute to Philadelphia to sell his wares. He encountered another heavily-laden wagon coming toward Lancaster; and the teamster showed no inclination to yield the right-of-way.
Kraybill, a powerfully-built man, sternly warned the other, "If you don't give me my share of the road, I'll have to do something I don't like to do."
The teamster sized him up and then meekly pulled aside, permitting Kraybill to pass. Further along the road the brother could no longer restrain his curiosity. "What would you have done," he inquired, that you didn't like to do, if that fellow had not pulled over?"
"I would have pulled over," said Kraybill drily.
- Attributed to a publication called Pennsylvania Cavalcade and quoted by Ira Reist Kraybill, in his 1947 family history published as part of The History of the Kraybill Family in America. The identify of the "Kraybill" in the story isn't given.
At the annual Kraybill School Board and Teachers Banquet in 1972, a woman described how she was driving through Middletown, Pennsylvania one day with her 6-year-old son, when they passed Kunkle School.
Her son asked why it was called Kunkle School. She told him that there was an important man by the name of John Kunkle, and the school was named after him. The little boy digested this for a minute and then exclaimed, "Oh, yes, like Simon Kraybill".
-- from Potatoes - Skins and All
The little boy in the story had confused Simon, a member of the school board at the time, with Simon's great-great-great-grandfather, immigrant Jacob Kraybill, who in the early 1800s donated land near Mount Joy, Pennsylvania for a Mennonite meetinghouse, which became Kraybill Mennonite School in 1949.
It had been a busy day for 4-year-old Leon Kraybill. After supper he lay down on the couch and went to sleep. The rest of the family decided to bring in some hay bales before dark.
Mother went along to drive the tractor and the other children to pick up the bales. We all went, except Leon, who we expected would continue sleeping until we got back with the hay.
Some of the bales were at least a half mile from the house and barn, and the job took longer than we expected. On our way back to the barn, we were surprised to see Uncle John Kraybill with Leon walking somewhat red-eyed beside him. We were even more surprised when we heard what happened.
Uncle John, who lived at the top of a hill not far from our farm, said he got a strange phone call from a telephone operator who said she was looking for a person known as "Uncle John." She had gotten a phone call from a small boy who was very upset because he didn't know where his parents were. He said he looked everywhere and couldn't find them.
Not knowing what else to do, he dialed "O" for operator and told her he couldn't find his family. The operator tried to be helpful and gently asked his name and who lives near his house. The only person he could think of was "Uncle John".
So the operator found a John Kraybill in the book, rang him and told him all about the little boy who lost his family. Uncle John walked down over the hill and found Leon in the house, and together they set out to find the family that had disappeared.
-- from Potatoes - Skins and All
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