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Henrik Madsen

Henrik Madsen (son of Mads Nielsen and Else Marie Jensdatter)818 was born March 31, 1836 in Naesbjerg, Ribe, Denmark, and died date unknown. He married Emilie Magrethe Frandsen on June 17, 1859 in Naesbjerg, Ribe, Denmark819, daughter of Frands Olesen and Dorret Christensdatter.

 Includes NotesNotes for Henrik Madsen:
Henrik MADSSEN Sex: M Birth: 31 Mar 1836 Christening: 01 Apr 1836 Place: Naesbjerg, Ribe, Denmark
Parents: Father: Mads NIELSEN Mother: Else Marie JENSDR
Source Information: Batch Number: C207673 Source Dates: 1814 - 1867 Film or Fiche Number: 51585 Collection Details: Naesbjerg; Den Danske Folkekirke

Excerpts about Henrik and Emilie From "Hard Times" by Frands Madsen, their son (Full story found under notes for Frands Madsen)
My father was born on a farm in Naesbjerg parish, in the year 1836. When he was 28 years old he had to join the war. He had been in the garrison for two years by Aarhus dragoons, besides three summers review, each for 6 months. Fourteen days after the last review, there came passport. He should still in the regiment, and he joined the campaign in 1864.
My mother was born in Ose Vicarage and she lived there in her childhood and early years until she got married. Her father, my grandfather, was bailiff of the vicarage's farm for 7 years, when he and my future grandmother being lovers. But there was a bad latch with this relationship; She was the daughter of the parish's richest farmer. His name I don't remember, but her brother who got the farm after the old, was "Old Niels Jørgensen" in Ose, and his son again Joergen Nielsen. Because of the young love affair, grandfather was forbidden on the big farmer's domain.
In his necessity grandfather went to the Priest and told him about his situation.
The priest went to the Great Farmer to try to talk him to his senses, but he was unbending and inflexible. After the Priest came back from his unsuccessful business, he called grandfather and said to him. "My dear Frands, you are a capable and reliable man, as everyone should be proud to get as son-in-law. You have worked for me for 7 years faithfully. My advice to you is, Marry Dorthea. My wife and I will make your wedding and you can lease the vicarage farm.
I doubt grandmother got one daler (old Danish coin) in dowry.
They leased the vicarage farm for more than 20 years and became, after that times conditions, very wealthy.
Later my parents stayed at the farm in Ose, my oldest sister was born here. Apparently Grandfather (mother's father) made the great mistake taking advice from father to sell the farm and move out on the heath.
At that time reclamation on the heath was an idea that farmers had already pursued, the reason was probably the high taxes that there were on cultivated land and war expenses from the war in 1848. An army must also be standing ready, because the danger from the south was still there.
My parents moved to Bolhede, Ose parish eastern border. My mother was alone while my father was doing summer review. And now the war. Mother got only 2 letters from father while the war was running.

Above a range of hills, west of our house, mother knew father would come if he came. In daytime, when she worked in the stable, there was a window to west and she looked up to the hill and imagined him to come. She went often to the hill to look for him, he had to come. Time after time, after looking vainly, she would fall on her knees and pray to God to at last send father home to her and the little ones. But it was not the way she saw father's homecoming. The war, as all wars, went its own way without God's intervention. Yes, what mothers had fought and cried, particularly a mother on the heath with little ones, so to say, left by herself, only few could have an idea. It happens also, a angel of sorrow floats low in the air above our home. Mother's fight and distress in these years she never got past. Hard work and sorrow had destroyed her health, so she had only few days in her later life that she was with good health. She lived until she became 49 years old. Father surprised us by coming home on Christmasnight, if he returned during daylight mother would certainly have seen him coming.
How many went out and how many came back to the parish, I don't know. It seems not so many, Father was the only one in our big family that was a soldier during the war.

I have later in my life tried to remember these wonderful memories about father's homecoming from war that Christmas Eve, and they are indelible in my mind. We children know well, as we grow up, that Christmas Eve every year had a double meaning for mother and father. What there had been so cruel and heavy for them, they talked reluctantly about it. They couldn't hide it always, but the light of their life wandering we should see and hear. The biggest event they had was that Christmas Eve. Therefore could mother every Christmas evening keep a speech, as I doubt any priest could do her after. Angel song and heaven host proclamation about peace on earth between man's children and saviour in the sinful world, she obviously could tell it so lively that I think I could see the wonderful event through my children's eyes. And there was also this, that God in his extreme mercy, had sent father home Christmas Eve without any scratch, fresh and strait in his best courage. Father had spent 6 of his adolescences in duty for his country; years which should have been used for the family's benefit and future. It was not well in our home, 2 cows died during the war. There were no working animals for a start; there were troublesome debts to tumble with. Father had, despite the bad conditions, courage on life. He took what was nearest for hands, to walk on day work. A strange way out of need, and it only helped a little, one mark (old Danish coin) a day from sun coming up until it goes down was not much, when everything they had to buy was expensive.

Mother died when I was 18 years old. That day she was buried father raised a little corner of that curtain, which covered his and her despairing fighting years on Bolhede. On a few occasions he told us about the strange time after the war.
Just think, one mark a day, when rye cost 16 rigsdaler (old Danish coin) per barrel, how should a poor man get bread on the table. One day he went from home with a bag, he went out to buy some rye. He went to his birth city Skonager and to a friend from his younger days named Jan and performed his business.
Jan look at him and asked him, "Do you have money Henrich?" Yes, father had money to buy one yield. Why he did not go to his brother Per as owner of his childhoodfarm, I don't know, but enmity was not between them. Father was a good friend with all in this big family until he died, as he was with all people. If there was a man he didn't like, he kept away from him. He was always ready to help, where help was needed. If there was an infectious illness in a home and nobody would dare to go there father went. He was sound on soul and body, besides of giant strength.
One of ours neighbours from Bolhede, Niels Kampmand, told me once a little event from a fair day in Varde. He and some of his neighbours were in Rek Thomsen's farm to fasten on and drive home. When a dealer came, called Garibaldi, in to the farm. The dealer was known as one of Jylland's worst rowdies. They came to argue with him concerning a trade. While this argument was going, Garibaldi had already slapped their faces several times, They were afraid for the beast, Kampmand told me. "But when I saw your father come through the gate, I knew we were saved. Your father asked 'what's wrong', Garibaldi went against him, shouting, accompaniment to an oath, what it concerns such a farmer lout and tried to hit him. But Henrich was to quick, he turned around and jumped into the dealer, raised him in the air and for amusement to the surroundings, he carried him to the street where he released him. Garibaldi found it, of course, best for him to disappear from the scene."
At last father didn't accept the bad incoming, he'd had it and couldn't go further. Something different must be tried, necessity ordered it. He started to mould and bake bricks, afterwards he was called Henrich brickburner. I remember when I was boy I was very proud to hear people call him this name. I knew our history and understood, that the brick burning would be father's way out of the economic mess he was standing in.

Some charming memories I recall were father and mother's songs. When mother was not ill, her lovely softened voice was singing to us. And she talked so beautiful about the life in the old vicarage in Ose, where she grew up. Father was singing hymns, patriotic songs and war songs to us, besides stories about his childhood and youth times in his hometown.
Those stories sound like adventure writing to us children.

When I was 8 years old we moved away from the heath. I didn't understand why mother cried, when we moved. Now I understand it better. There she fought, struggled and cried, sad tears. Maybe it was a mix of joy and sorrow, life had been so rich there to make her so well-rooted to the home. There she had born the two youngest children and there she had in spite of all the worries, some of her early years with the man she loved. In the home on the heath, mother probably would like to close her eyes in death.

My parents have now for many years rested in death's garden with their parents on Naesbjerg old cemetery.
Bless their memory.


More About Henrik Madsen:
Date born 2: March 31, 1836, Skonager, Ribe, Denmark.820

More About Henrik Madsen and Emilie Magrethe Frandsen:
Marriage: June 17, 1859, Naesbjerg, Ribe, Denmark.821

Children of Henrik Madsen and Emilie Magrethe Frandsen are:
  1. +Else Maria Madsen, b. January 15, 1860, Heager Øse, Ribe, Denmark, d. March 02, 1935, Varde, Denmark.
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