Message #220406

[franksolich]

The last name of my great-grandfather was "Vlsk," in Slovakian meaning either "wolf" or "son of the wolf," whichever one chooses.  It was a last name of recent origin, as until the 1870s, peasants (and others) in the Austro-Hungarian Empire had never used last names.

According to my great-grandfather, who passed the story down to his children, there had been a large wolf terrorizing the village, causing much damage to livestock and other living things.  No one, even imperial soldiers barracked nearby, could ever catch it.

One day an ancestor of my great-grandfather was strolling down a forest-arcaded lane, from his field back to home in the village.  Suddenly this "thing" lunged at him from behind the trees.  Having no weapon, and having left his farming-implement hidden in the field, the ancestor did the only thing he could possibly do, wrestle with it.

It was not until he had strangled it to death, choked it to death with his bare hands, that he realized it was a wolf.

The deed attracted a great deal of attention, eventually reaching the imperial court in Vienna.  The emperor of Austria-Hungary had a public-relations policy of occasionally acknowledging heroic accomplishments of the poor and humble in his empire, usually that of bestowing some flattering second name upon he who had done the deed, along with awarding ten silver kronen, then an enormous fortune.

And hence the family earned the last name of "Vlsk."

- - - - - - - - - - - -

Anyone attempting to verify long-ago facts in eastern Europe is, usually, undertaking a futile enterprise.  Throughout the centures, eastern Europe has been ravaged by invasions, wars, and lately, history-erasing socialism, to the detriment of records--such as the records were.

How happy the fate of those of us of British or Scandinavian descent, who can actually delve into centuries past, those ancient records generally undisturbed.

In the 1870s, the government of Austria-Hungary decided that all must have a last name, for purposes of a census.  A census of course would enable ease of identification, and better yet, ease of collection of taxes.

Once a government compels someone to involuntarily take something, it also compels that same someone to involuntarily pay for it; last names were not freely given out.  One had to pay for them, unless it could be proven that a last name had been in common and general use for a long time.

Those of Jewish derivation had it the worst; they had never used last names, and the fees for a last name, for them, was higher than the fees for a last name for the Roman Catholics.  If one was Jewish, like a Roman Catholic, he had to first pay for the privilege of having a last name.....but unlike a Roman Catholic, then he had to pay again, for the privilege of choosing his own last name, rather than being assigned one.

This was a sore issue, because court bureaucrats purposely assigned last names to Jews that were blatantly offensive, even obscene; this was so as to encourage the Jews to pay an additional bribe to change their last name to something more aesthetic.  (But if one was a poor Jew, which most were, one was stuck.)

My ancestors were Roman Catholic, and did not face the second obstacle, although the first one, paying for the privilege of having a last name, was formidable enough, given that the fees were not chump change, but quite onerous.

However, as mentioned earlier, one could avoid the fee if one already had a last name, in common and long-time usage.

Much of the name-changing records and censuses of the 1870s still exists.

There is, recorded in 1873, a statement made by the village priest, probably the only literate person in the village, and so as to save the family having to pay a fee to acquire their last name, stating that my ancestors "for two generations past, and into the current one", had used the last name "Vlsk."

(Which would place the wolf-strangling incident, perhaps, in the 1820s.)

There is an additional statement to the effect that the name derived from "a service to H.I.M. the Emperor" so as to "preserve" the health and well-being of his "humble subjects," and that ten silver kronen had been awarded for it.

As if crying for a long-ago injustice to be rectified, it follows that the governor (actual term untranslable; probably a lower-level court official) had thought "ten silver kronen too much for a mere peasant, and so gave only three, keeping the other seven for himself."

One suspects the guy was a Democrat.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

The birthdate of my great-grandfather is unknown; on various American records (no non-American records in existence)--in which instances my great-grandfather supplied the year himself--it could have been 1868, 1869, 1870, 1871, or 1872.

My great-grandfather had a father, and older brothers and sisters, but their names and fates long ago evaporated into the mists of history, now known only to God.

It was one autumn day in, probably, 1879 or 1880 or 1881, that black-hooded Ukrainian horsemen from just over the border came riding into the village, seaching for Jews.  Why they were searching for Jews, could have been that there had been a poor harvest, or there was an epidemic raging, or simply that the Ukrainians were bored and wanted some sport.

The villagers were corralled into the square, and their identities questioned.  There was a boy present, whom no one acknowledged.  Then the mother of my great-grandfather (i.e., my own great-great-grandmother), betraying her ancient Roman Catholic conscience, lied and claimed the boy was hers.

Some other person, perhaps to save someone or something of her own, alleged it to be a lie, that the boy was an orphaned Jew, and no Christian.  Upon finding the boy had been circumsized, he was immediately poked through with a sword, spear, or javelin of some sort.

A Christian who had harbored a Jew was worse than a Jew, and so the mother of my great-grandfather was tied behind a horse and dragged to death, her broken body tossed down a well, after which the Ukrainians left the burning village.

to be continued