Sarah Heim Geary has a long history in Southern Schuylkill County.
She was born in Landingville, the daughter of Mary (nee Brown) and William Heim. By 1900, William and the family moved to Dock St. She married George Geary in 1901, and was the mother of 3 children: Pap (his twin died at birth), Robert and Helen.

Eva (Sarah’s sister), Bob, Gutch and Pap, coming down the mountain on South Berne.
After George’s death in 1916, Sarah married Walter Bast, and lived on Berne St.
Her daughter Helen died in 1933 at the age of 24. Sarah then passed in 1934 at the age of 55.

Mary Brown (b. 1858) was the daughter of Elizabeth (nee Deibert) and Edwin Brown. She was born in Landingville in 1858. She married William Heim at St. Paul’s in Orwigsburg in 1876. As of 1880, she lived in South Manheim Twp., but by 1900 the family had moved to Dock St. in Sch. Haven.
She was the mother of six children : Bertha, Sarah, Edward, Katie, David and Eva.
Mary passed in 1927 in Sch. Haven.

Edwin Brown was born in 1835 and passed in 1872. He was a veteran of the Civil War, and is buried at the Union Cemetery in Sch. Haven. Not much else is known.

Elizabeth Deibert (b.1842) was the daughter of Henriette (nee Kolb (Kulp)) and William Deibert. She eventually married William Zuber. She passed in 1912 in Landingville.

William Deibert (b. 1812) was born in South Manheim Twp., and lived most of his life in North Manheim Twp. Again, I cannot find much more. He passed in 1892.

Henriette Kulp (b 1812) was the daughter of Elizabeth Moyer (b. 1786 d. 1851) and Balthasar Kulp (b. 1786 d. 1865). Again, little else can be found.

William Heim (b. 1854) was the son of Sarah (nee Reber) and Daniel Heim.
Living his early life in South Manheim, he eventually move the family to Dock St. in Sch. Haven. Besides Sarah, the children were Bertha, Edward, Katie, David and Eva.
He passed in 1921.

Daniel Heim (b.1816) was the son of Magdelana (nee Schmidt) and Johannes Heim. He was born and lived his life as a farmer in South Manheim Twp.
Map of part of South Manheim approx 1875

Daniel Heim at the purple, Edwin Brown(above) green, Johannes yellow. The red dot is where I (approx) currently reside, with the Plum Creek running through my backyard…

Daniel passed in 1891.

Magdelana Schmidt was born in 1783 and passed in 1872. Little else is known.
Johannes Heim (b.1784) was the son of Anna Maria (nee Zartman) and Mathias Heim. Born in Pennsylvania, he passed in 1859, and along with Magdelana, is buried at St. Paul’s on Summer Hill.
Their other children include: Magdelana, Margaretha, George, Elnora, Luisa, John, William and Isaac.

Little else is known along this line.

Sarah Reber (b.1814) was the daughter of Elizabeth (nee Miller)(according to my research) and George Reber.
She lived mostly in South Manheim Twp. before eventually passing of Paxson Ave. in Sch. Haven.
Other children were David, Sara, Daniel, Maria, Louisa, Sarah, Elizabeth, Franklin, Isaac and George.

Elizabeth Miller (b.1787) was the daughter of Anna Elizabeth (nee Staudt) and Andreas (Andrew) Miller.
She passed in 1827 and is buried at St. Paul’s on Summer Hill.

Anna Elizabeth Staudt (b.1758 d. 1840) was the daughter of Anna Margaretha (nee Schrader) and Johan Mathies Staudt. Not much else is known, but here is a relevant part of Ella Zerbe Elliot’s Blue Book of Schuylkill County.
It’s a little long.

ELIZABETH’S MAD RIDE

The Pennsylvania Germans, whose ancestors were exiled
from their homes in the beautifid valley of the Rhine and
Neckar by furious religious and political persecution, did not
find life in their adopted home one on a bed of roses. The
Miller and the Stout families ori2:inated in Alsace and Lo-
raine. During the luanv fierce wars, in which these provinces
were made a mere football by the contending forces of the
Romans, Gauls and Germans, they migrated farther north to
the Rhine Palatinate, which was then one of two divisions of an
independent State of Germany. Again they migrated from the
region of the Schwalm River to Switzerland from where they
embarked for the United States of America in 1754.

The story of the Rhine Pfalz is one of great interest.
There is no region or country on the globe that has witnessed so
many bloody conflicts as the Palatinate on the Rhine. The
Romans struggled for more than five centuries to subdue the
Germans only to leave them unconquered and when the Romans
withdrew, the rich valley was coveted by European nations.
The crimes committed in the Palatinate in consequence of re-
ligious intolerance, fanaticism and political persecution are un-
paralleled in the history of human savagery. And this region
continued to be the theatre of conflict after the great exodus of
the German Palatines, which took place in the last half of the
eighteenth century.

The German emigrants to New York who had suffered
untold miseries with internal difficulties in the Schoharie
Valhn’, with regard to the settlement of their lands and the
titles to them, had again taken wing; and many of them turned
under the leadership) of John Conrad Weiser and his son, Con-
rad, to Pennsylvania. It was about 1754-1756 when the large
influx of the Pfalzisch Germans came to Pennsylvania and
settled in Berks County, which has since been subdivided into
Berks, Dauphin, Lebanon, Schuylkill and parts of other
counties.

The Millers and the Stouts came over with the great
exodus. The lands in the vicinity of the sites of Womelsdorf,
Reading, Bernville, Tulpehocken and along the fertile Schuyl-
kill Valley were soon taken up by the settlers. The families
settled first near Tulpehocken, where both Andrew Miller and
Elizabeth Stout were born, the former in 1756. The Stouts
were represented in the five full companies that enlisted from
the German settlers for immediate service after the adoption of
the Declaration of Independence, in 1776, and the Millers, too,
had sons that took the field and rendered conspicuous aid during
the early part of the war, at the close of which the two families
with several others removed to Bear Creek, east of what is
now Auburn, between the Blue Mountain and the Summer
Berg.

John Lesher, brother-in-law of John Wilhelm Pott,
operated a forge and small furnace on Pine Creek and there
was another near the site of Auburn, and here the men of the
Miller and Stout families worked when not employed on their
farms. The women occupied themselves with the milking of the
cows, churning and making butter and raising the hemp from
which was spun the flax that afterward made the coarse, soft
linen that formed the bed sheets, towels and linen underwear of
the families, some of which is still cherished among their
descendants as the most precious of heirlooms. They also
manufactured on rude looms the coarse homespun cloths, dyed
them with home-made colors and fashioned them into the clothes
their families wore. Those were busy times, but not unhappy
ones.

No more beautiful countrv exists anvwhere than that included
in the tract from Bear Ridge and the Summer Berg to
the Old Red Church below Orwigsburg. All around were
primeval forests. The silvery Schuylkill uncontaminated by
coal washings glistened in the distance. The roads through the
forests were mere bridal paths and the first slow, gradual
taming of the wilderness, the rolling hills to the edges of the
Blue Mountain, the advance from the low log cabins, the scat-
tered, scratch-farms to the first dwellings and farms of greater
pretentions as the rich country grew in wealth and ambition,
made a picture that excites the liveliest imagination.

It was past the noon mark on the sundial at the little low
farm house on Bear Ridge, when Elizabeth Stout completed the
chores for the morning. The milk in the spring-house was all
skimmed, the log floor and huge hearth swept up with the birch
broom, the linen bleaching on the meadow had been turned and
wet anew, the blue delf china after the nooning was washed and
spread on the great mahogany dresser. Elizabeth’s deft fingers
soon bound up her abundant brown hair with the snood that con-
fined it ; she slipped into her short bright brown cloth skirt, red
pointed bodice with surplice of bright green, a concoction of
colors she had made with home-made dyes and fashioned and
copied the dress from the picture of a grand dame she had once
seen.

Her sleeves just reached the elbow disclosing a pair of
plump and shapely arms that would have been the envy of any
city belle. Her stockings were bright red, knitted by her own
nimble fingers. Her feet were encased in a pair of heavy shoes,
for she must save the pretty low slippers adorned with the huge
silver buckles that had remained among the few relics of the
struggle under General Washington at Valley Forge and which
were given her by her father. She had w^orn the buckles at
various times on her bodice, at her waist, and now on her slip-
pers, which were safely encased in the saddle bags together with
a new cream cheese and some brodwurst tied firmly in snowy
cloths and destined for a gift to the mother of the friend Eliza-
beth was about to visit.

She knotted a gay-colored ‘kerchief about her bare neck
and tied with its single plain black ribbon over her hair, the
white turned back half hood and half sunbonnet or ISTormandy
cap she wore; and adding the snowy white linen spencer for
evening wear on her bosom and a few trinkets and necessaries
to the little stock of clothing in the saddle bags, her prepara-
tions were complete. The black mare whinnied when she saw
her approach with riding paraphernalia in hand and permitted
herself to be caught without any remonstrance.

What a picture Elizabeth was. One that Joshua Rey-
nolds would not have disdained to copy. Just eighteen and
above medium height, well-developed and yet with not an
ounce of superfluous flesh on her lithe form, well-rounded limbs
and well-knit body. Large soft brown eyes, rosy cheeks, pearly
teeth, smooth skin that the bright green and red in her raiment
lighted brilliantly and harmonized witli.

She was soon in the saddle and cantered off, waving her
hand to her mother who sat at her spindle in a little building
near the farm house, where the maid of all work was busily en-
gaged in paring and stringing apples for drying and a little
farther on her father wuth such scanty help as he could gather
was with the vokels enegaged in shocking the late corn.

A few miles of swift riding along the ledge brought her to
the river which was soon forded. There were no wandering
nomads to disturb the peaceful soliloquy of the traveler. The
Indians were quieted down, at least for a time, and Fort
Lebanon, the old log fortress of defense against the red-skinned
marauders, looked deserted as she cantered by.

Nature was lavish to that valley. The huge mountains
were dim with the Fall haze and looked blue and golden and red-
tinted in the bright rays of the sun. The early sumacs had
turned blood red and the golden maples painted the landscape
with their dying beauty and brilliant splendor. The horse sped
easily along the path and Elizabeth aroused by the beauty of
the scene broke into the well-known Lutheran hymn “Ein feste
berg ist L^nser Gott,” and sang the words to the close, the moun-
tains re-echoing the song of praise of the German nut-brown
maid. Then she dismounted and bathed her face in a running
mountain stream. Shaping a cup from a huge wild grape leaf,
she drank and gave the mare a loose rein that she, too, might
slake her thirst. Drawing a small porcelain picture, that hung
suspended about her neck by a narrow black velvet ribbon, from
her bosom, she adjusted her white Kormandy cap and taking a
sly peep at herself in the limpid water, she kissed the picture
and mounted the mare who neighed with delight at the prospect
of once more starting toward the bag of oats she knew awaited
her. The picture was that of Andrew Miller and they were
betrothed.

The sun was already hanging low in the horizon when they
entered the heart of the forest through which their path lay.
The great oaks cast gigantic shadows over the entrance but the
fragrant pines were well-blazed and the pathway plain and
Elizabeth was a brave girl and there was nothing to fear; but
she well knew that they must make haste if they would make
the clearing near the mill below the Red Church before dark,
where her friend Polly Orwig lived and where the corn husking
would take place that evening. And where she expected to
see her affianced, Andrew Miller, who had assisted at the raising
of the new barn as was the custom in those days, and the
husking was given in honor of the new building.

Elizabeth kept the mare at as brisk a pace as she could
through the tangled underbrush and morass. She thought of
Andrew how sturdy he was, surely of all the suitors for her
hand she had the finest, the best looking man and the best in-
formed. They had been lovers from their childhood, com-
panions always but this brotherly affection had deepened into
something more intense, something that fairly frightened her
when she recalled how he had looked when he told her of all the
girls around and about the country she was the handsomest.
But her mother had told her, ‘^it was a sin to think of one’s
looks,” and had promptly removed the high stool from in front
of the dresser, in the top of which was a huge looking glass,
when Elizabeth attempted to see for herself if there was any
truth in the assertion.

The shadows grew longer, the squirrels and rabbits
scampered hurriedly across the path, the late birds had sought
their nests, and the occasional screech of the panthers and other
wild animals added not a little to her apprehensions about the
lateness of the hour and the little mare seemed, too, to be dis-
quieted and nervous. The superstitions of the country arose
in her mind and she knew that they were nearing a little
clearing in the forest where lived a German refugee who was
accused of witchcraft and who was said to have the power of
turning himself into a white cat and at times the wood was filled
with a gathering of the felines, who would fill the air with their
snarling and screeching.

Hark I there was the sound she had often heard described
but had forgotten about. A frightful yell. Surely the man
would not hurt her. Had not her father carried him food in
the ox sledge in the dead of winter that he might not starve
and had ho not always been kind to her when he came to bor-
row the few necessary things for his existence, which he never
returned.

There it was again. Yes! and on that tree a white object
with fiery green eyes. It was the witch, she dared not look
again. There was a scream, a dull thud, she looked over her
shoulder and saw a white cat perched on the haunches of the
mare. Trembling with fear that each moment would be her last
Elizabeth gave the mare the rein and leaning forward clasped
her arms about her neck knowing full well that the little beast
Avould do her best, she needed no urging and then she closed
her eyes and prayed and prayed and waited.

On and on they sped. The .soft green moss yielded to the
hoofs of the mare and made the riding heavy. But Black Bess
went as she never did before as if knowing her pretty mistress’
life was the stake for which she was fleeing. From her nos-
trils came huge flecks of foam, her fetlocks and sides were wet
with sweat and from her haunches dripped drops of livid red
blood from the clawing of the white cat on her back.

Elizabeth could feel the hot breath of the creature but be-
yond an occasional unearthly yell and fresh clawing of the
mare it made no effort to harm her. What a mad ride it was !
Tarn O’Shanter’s was a mild one in comparison to it. Would
the clearing never be reached ? It seemed ages to the trembling
girl and again she closed her eyes and prayed and feebly
stroked the mare’s ears. At length she heard a soft snort in
response. The clearing was in sight, like a silvery rift in the
clouds, a light in the gathering darkness. The Old Red Church
would soon be arrived at, and the witches hated churches and
perhaps .

Just then a dark figure loomed, as they emerged from
the wood. It was her betrothed, Andrew Miller, who came out
to meet her. He caught the bridle of the exhausted and panting
mare, the white cat gave a parting screech and disappeared into
the wood and Elizabeth fell fainting into his arms. When she
recovered he hinted at wild cats but the trembling Elizabeth
would hear nothing of them. “Who ever heard of a wild cat act-
ing that way ?” said she. But being a sensible girl she consented
to keep her adventure a secret until the morrow, for well
she knew that the story of a witch so near would mar all the
pleasure of the merry party.

The husking was a great event in a country bereft almost
of entertainment for the younger people and it was the first one
of its kind held in that part of the State. The trick of finding
a red ear and then exacting a kiss from your partner was new
to her and from the frequency with which Andrew exacted the
forfeit she suspected him of having secreted some of the tell-
tale Indian cereal on his person but he gave no sign. And the
supper, how good it was and how hungry they all were and how
they enjoyed it !

Elizabeth left for home in the bright sunlight on the mor-
row accompanied by Andrew who walked all the way by her
side. But not without Elizabeth’s having first confided to Pollv
the story of her adventure with the white cat. Polly, too
decided it was a witch but thought the witch meant her no harm
but good luck, as the wedding was to take place at Christmas.
And a witch the white cat has remained through successive
generations as each in turn hands the narrative to the next.

Note : Andrew Miller and Elizabeth Stout were married
December 25th, 1786.

End of this story.

Andrew Miller (b.1756 d.1842) was the son of Magdelena and Henrich Miller (Mueller). Both Anna and Andrew are buried at the Salem Evang. Cemetary in Orwigsburg. Other children include: Anna, Maria Elizabeth, Andrew, John Peter, Susanna, John George, Catherine, Maria Magdalena and Hannah.

The following is also from the Blue Book of Schuylkill County, regarding Henrich Miller:

Life Sketch
Edit|Delete

The following is from ” the Blue Book of Schuylkill County, written in 1916: Henrich Mueller and wife Magdalena came from the Rhine Pfalz, Oderscheim, Palatinate, Europe, August 15, 1750 on the ship “Royal Union,” Capt. Clement Nicholson, sailing from Rotterdam. He came directly to Eastern Pennsylvania to relatives in Bern Township, Lancaster County, going thence to Brunswick Township, in the same county. He settled in the valley between the Blue and Second and Sharp Mountains, on Bear Creek, near Bear Ridge, between what is now Auburn and Jefferson, Schuylkill County. The original Tract was not patented until August 12, 1774, and the parts of two other tracts were patented February 27, 1775, in the name of his son, Andreas Miller, by patent recorded. Having transferred the patent rights of his land to his son Andreas, Heinrich Miller wrote his will, Sepotember 22, 1775, which was probated December 15, 1778. (Abstract of Wills, Berks Co., 1752-1793, Vol. I. Penna. His. Soc., Phila.) The will directs that Andreas gets everything and shall care for the mother, Magdalena, and that the daughter (no name mentioned) “must pay Andreas for her right to anything.”

There is no other record as to when or where Heinrich Miller died. He is doubtless buried at the Summer Hill church, where his wife, Magdalena, is interred, his grave being among the many nunnamed, the date of death being December, 1778.

Magdalena, wife of Heinrich Miller, b. in Oderscheim, Rhine Pfalz, 1726, died April 24, 1806.

The tax lists of Berks County were made up in 1752, but were not enforced until 1754. Heinrich Miller, taxable, north side of Blue Mountains, 1754.

There were altogether less than fifty persons east of the Schuylkill River between the Blue and the Sharp Mountain, when the Indian purchase, 1749, was made, one authority says, “only twenty-seven,” and when the Indian troubles began. After beginning their little clearings and erecting their humble log cabins they united, 1755, in building the first log church, known as the Zion’s Lutheran or Red Church, which was reduced to ashes by the Indians in 1757.

Here were born the two first children of Heinrich and Magdalena Miller. Andrew, b. February 15, 1756, died January 23, 1842, tombstone, Reformed (White) church cemetery, Orwigsburg, and Johannes, three weeks old, baptized April 21, 1757, sponsors Johannes and Barbara Clouser.

Of this Johannes nothing further is known, but he was probably killed by the Indians when they attacked the Miller home, or died from exposure in their flight across the mountains to Bern township, where their third child, the daughter mentioned in the will was born.

Brunswick Townshp, Lancaster County, was inhabited as early as 1740, but it was not erected into a township before 1768, when afterward (1810) was taken from it and Pinegrove Township, the seven townships that, with all but one-sixth, included all of the part now embraced in Schuylkill County. When in Lancaster County, Brunswick Township extended over the Blue Mountain, a small strip protruding over where Windsor and two other townships formed what was known as “Die Ecke” (the corner).

The Indian terror broke out in this locality November 24, 1755. Up to this time the settlers had gone into hiding in the block houses and Forts Franklin and Lebanon and with friends across the mountain in Windsor and Bern Townships. In the fall of 1757 murder and rapine drove them to a refuge of safety and the Millers fled to Bern Township. They remained south of the Blue Mountains until 1765, when with a scattered remnant of their neighbors, the first pioneers, they returned to their homes in Brunswick Township (Braunschweig.) After rebuilding their homes, many having returned to plant and harvest their crops in the interim, they rebuilt the log church, completed 1770, the present being the fourth church of that name.

In 1776 Henry Miller joined Captain Michael Forrer’s company; enlisted in Tulpehocken Township, eight or ten miles over the Blue Mountain, and made up of forty-two men from the northwestern section of Berks county. Captain Forrer was a resident of Pinegrove Township. His company was one of four on duty during August and September, 1776, at South Amboy, N.J. at the mouth of the Raritan river opposite the southern extremity of Staten Island. They reinforced the Colonial forces during the battle of Long Island and belonged to the battalion of Col. John Patton. The captains were John Lesher, Michael Wolff, George Miller and Michael Forrer. The companies were collected together at Womelsdorf, Berks County, wher they received their first rations and from there they marched to Perth Amboy, leaving Wormelsdorf, August 11th, 1776, for their destination, 135 miles, arriving on the 22nd.

The history of the Mueller family is involved in that of the early church of what is now schuylkill County. They were of the Reformed faith. The first and second Red Church congregations, with log churches butil 1755 and 1765, were Lutheran. Reformed ministers and teachers visited their people, baptized their children, taught them and performed other rites of the church whose records unfortunately were not preserved. These from 1783 to 1795 were: Revs. Stoy, Lehman, Hautz, Wagner, Hartzell and others. The Reformed congregation was formally organized in 1795 as Christ Reformed Church, Brunswick Township. The church was built a few rods west of Zion’s or the Red Church, on the opposite side of the road near the forks where the road from Landingville joins the turnpike. The two churches united as a Union church with alternate Sundays for worship, Whit Monday, June 11, 1832, and has remained as such ever since.