Part 10

“Here rests a Birth of the love of God, Peaceful, a Solitary, but who afterward became a Superintendent of the Solitary Community of Christ in and around Ephrata: born in Oberbach in the Palatinate, and named Conrad Beissel.”

“He fell asleep the 6th of July, A.D. 1768: of his spiritual life 52, but of his natural one, 77 years and 4 months.”

Endress says, “He appears to me to have been a man possessed of a considerable degree of the spirit of rule; his mind bent from the beginning upon the acquirement of authority, power, and ascendency.” For ourselves, we have just seen how he received Count Zinzendorf, who had crossed the ocean, and come, as it were, to his threshold.

Mr. Endress further says, “Beissel, good or bad, lived and died the master-spirit of the brotherhood. With him it sank into decay.”

The British officer who wrote in 1786 (?), eighteen years after Beissel’s death, gives the number of the celibates as seven men and five women. I do not consider him good authority; but if the numbers were so much reduced from those of 1740, it seems probable that they had begun to decline before the decease of Beissel.[77]

Eighteen years after Beissel’s death, was published at Ephrata the Chronicle of which I have so often spoken, giving an account of his life. He was succeeded by Peter Miller. Miller was sixty-five years old when our Revolutionary war broke out, and had been the leader at Ephrata seven years.

Fahnestock says that after the battle of Brandywine “the whole establishment was opened to receive the wounded Americans, great numbers of whom (Rupp says four or five hundred) were brought here in wagons a distance of more than forty miles, and one hundred and fifty of whom died and are buried on Mount Zion.”[78]

It is also narrated that before the battle of Germantown a quantity of unbound books were seized at Ephrata by some of our soldiers, in order to make cartridges. “An embargo,” says Miller, “was laid on all our printed paper, so that for a time we could not sell any printed book.”

A story has appeared in print, and not always in the same manner, about Miller’s going to General Washington and receiving from him a pardon for his old enemy Widman, who was condemned to die.

This story Mr. Rupp thinks is based upon tradition; one version has been told in a glowing manner, and is attributed to Dr. Fahnestock. It runs thus: On the breaking out of the Revolution, committees of safety were formed in different districts to support our cause. At the head of the Lancaster County Committee was Michael Widman, who kept a public house, and who had been a vestryman in the Reformed Church. This church Miller had left when he joined the Baptists. He persecuted Miller to a shameful extent, even spitting in his face when he met him.

Widman was at first bold and active in the cause of independence, but he became discouraged, and resolved to go to Philadelphia and conciliate General Howe, the British commander, who then held that city. Howe, however, declined his services,[79] but gave orders to see him safely beyond the British outposts. His treasonable intentions having become known to the Americans, he was arrested and taken to the nearest block-house, at the Turk’s Head, now West Chester; was tried by court-martial, and sentenced to be hung. Peter Miller, hearing of his arrest, went to General Washington and pleaded for mercy towards him. The general answered that the state of public affairs was such as to make it necessary that renegades should suffer, “otherwise I should most cheerfully release your friend.”

“Friend!” exclaimed Miller: “he is my worst enemy,—my incessant reviler.”[80]

Said the general, “My dear friend, I thank you for this example of Christian charity!” and he granted Miller’s petition.

It is not necessary for me to go further, and describe the scene of Miller’s arriving upon the ground with the pardon just as Widman was to be hung, nor the subsequent proceedings there, for I am quite sure that they did not take place. Evidence to this effect is found in the Pennsylvania Archives, vol. ix., where Peter Miller writes to Secretary Matlack, interceding (apparently) for a man named Rein. Miller says, “I have thought his case was similar to Michael Wittman’s, who received pardon without a previous trial.”

The secretary replies (1781), “Witman did not receive a pardon previous to a surrender.”

Thus it seems that the story of Widman’s trial by court-martial is also wrong. That his property was confiscated, as I was lately told at Ephrata, I have no reason to doubt, as the Colonial Records, vol. xii., show that in council, in 1779, it was resolved that the agents for forfeited estates should sell that of Michael Wittman, subject to a certain claim.[81]

At Ephrata, during the past winter, I stood in the loft of the brother-house beside a great chimney of wood and clay, and was told that here Widman had been hidden. Whether he actually concealed himself in the brother-house, as has been narrated, I do not find that history declares.

At a subsequent date, 1783, we find in the Pennsylvania Archives, vol. ix., that Miller intercedes for certain Mennonites who had been fined for not apprehending British deserters; the Mennonites not being permitted by their principles to do so. Does this mean deserters from ourselves to the British,—who were, as deserters, liable to the punishment of death? a punishment which the Mennonites, as non-resistants, could not inflict.

Certain letters of Peter Miller, published in Hazard’s Register, and of which I have made considerable use, were written at an advanced age,—eighty or thereabout. He says in one of them (December, 1790), “Age, infirmity, and defect in sight are causes that the letter wants more perspicuity, for which I beg pardon.”

He died about six years after, having lived some sixty years a member of the community at Ephrata. Upon his tombstone was placed this inscription in German:

“Here lies buried Peter Miller, born in Oberampt Lautern, in the Palatinate (Chur-Pfalz); came as a Reformed preacher to America in the year 1730; was baptized by the Community at Ephrata in the year 1735, and named Brother Jaebez; also he was afterward a preacher (_Lehrer_) until his end. He fell asleep the 25th of September, 1796, at the age of eighty-six years and nine months.”

In the plain upon the banks of the Cocalico still stand the brother- and sister-houses (although not the buildings first erected). But the society is feeble in numbers, and the buildings are going to decay. They are still, however, occupied, or partly so. I found several women living here in 1872. Some of these were never married, but the majority are widows; and not all of them members of the Baptist congregation. Nor are the voices of children wanting.

The last celibate brother died some forty years ago. One, indeed, has been here since, but, as I was told, “he did not like it,” and went to the more flourishing community of Snow Hill, in Franklin County.

The little Ephrata association (which still owns a farm), instead of supporting its unmarried members, now furnishes to them only house-rent, fuel, and flour. The printing-press long since ceased from its labors, and many of the other industrial pursuits have declined.

No longer do the unmarried or celibate members own all the property, but it is now vested in all who belong to the meeting, single and married, and is in the hands of trustees. The income is, I presume, but small.

The unmarried members wear our usual dress, and none are strictly recluse.

Formerly a large room or chapel was connected with the brother-house. It was furnished with galleries, where sat the sisters, while the brethren occupied the floor below. (This building, I am told, is not standing.) In the smaller room or chapel (_saal_) connected with the sister-house, about twenty people now meet on the Seventh day for public worship. But among all these changes the German language still remains! All the services that I heard, while attending here in February of 1872, were in that tongue, except two hymns at the close. We must not suppose that this language is employed because the members are natives of Germany. One or two may be, but the preacher’s father or grandfather came to this country when a boy.

Around the meeting-room are hung charts or sheets of grayish paper, containing German verses in ornamental writing, the ancient labors of the celibates, or perhaps of the sisters alone. One small chart here is said to represent the three heavens, and to contain three hundred figures in Capuchin dress, with harps in their hands, and two hundred archangels. Perhaps this and their celibate doctrine are drawn, at least in part, from the opening of chapter xiv. of the book called the Revelation of John.

But for these old labors in pen and ink, the chapel is as plain as a Quaker meeting-house. It is kept beautifully clean.[82] Opening out of it is a kitchen, furnished with the apparatus for cooking and serving the simple repasts of the love-feasts. Among these Baptists, love-feasts are held not only, as I understand, in a similar manner to the other Dunkers, but upon funeral occasions,—a short period after the interment of a brother or sister. Rupp speaks of their eating lamb and mutton at their paschal feasts. In the old monastic time, it was only at love-feasts that the celibate brothers and sisters met.

Here I was shown a wooden goblet made by the brethren for the Communion. It has been said that they preferred to use such, even after more costly ones had been given to them.

After attending the religions services in the chapel, three or four of us—strangers—were supplied with dinner in the brother-house, at a neat and well-filled table.[83]

I afterward sat for an hour in the neat and comfortable apartment of Sister Sarah in the sister-house. Here she has lived twenty-two years, and, though now much advanced in life, has not that appearance. She seemed lovely, and, I was told, had not been unsought. One of her brothers has been thirty-three years at the Snow Hill community.

Sister Sarah produced for me a white cotton over-dress, such as was formerly worn by the sisters. It was a cap or cowl, with long pieces hanging down in front and behind nearly to the feet; and, if I remember it right, not of the pattern described in the Chronicle. But fashions change in fifty to a hundred years.

She also showed me some verses recently written by one of the brethren at Snow Hill. They were in German, of which I offer an unrhymed version:

“Oh divine life, ornament of virginity! How art thou despised by all men here below! And yet art a branch from the heavenly throne, And borne by the virgin Son of God.”

I was surprised to find such prominence given to the idea of the merits of celibacy, for I had not then seen the _Chronicon Ephratense_.

One object which especially attracted my attention was an upright clock, which stood in the room of Sister Sarah, and which was kept in very good order. It was somewhat smaller than the high clocks that were common forty or fifty years ago.

All that I heard of its history was that it had come from Germany. It had four weights suspended on chains. Above the dial-plate hovered two little angels, apparently made of lead, one on either side of a small disk, which bore the inscription “Hoeckers a Creveld,”—as I interpret, made by the Hoeckers at Crefeld. Crefeld,—historic town! Here then was a relic of it, and standing quite disregarded,—it was only an old German clock!

When the Dunkers were persecuted in Europe, soon after their establishment, some of them took refuge in Crefeld, in the duchy of Cleves; and I have lately read that in Crefeld, Mühlheim, etc., William Penn and others gained adherents to the doctrine of the Quakers.[84]

We also find in the American Cyclopædia that at Crefeld (Ger. _Krefeld_), a colony of Huguenot refugees in the seventeenth century introduced the manufacture of silk—Dunkers and Quakers; perhaps also Huguenots fleeing from France when Louis XIV. revoked that edict of Nantes which had so long protected them. (Crefeld is now in Rhenish Prussia.)

Who were the Hoeckers, or who was the Hoecker that made this old clock?[85] Who bought it in historic Crefeld? Who brought it from Europe, got it up into Lancaster County, and lodged it in the monastery or nunnery at Ephrata? What, if anything, had Ludwig Hoecker or Brother Obed to do with it—he who taught the early Sabbath-school? What tales could it not tell! But it is well cared for in the comfortable apartment of the kindly sister.

The Snow Hill settlement, I presume, is named from the family of Snowberger,[86] one of whom endowed the society. It is situated on the Antietam, in Franklin County, Pennsylvania; where a large farm belongs to “the nunnery” (an expression that I heard at Ephrata). There were, until lately, five sisters and four brothers at Antietam, but one of the brethren has died.

The brethren have sufficient occupation in taking care of their property; the sisters keep house, eating in the same apartment at the same time with the brothers. Under these circumstances I could imagine the comfort and order of the establishment, and think of the brothers and sisters meeting in a cool and shaded dining-room. What question then should I be likely to ask? This one: “Do they never marry?”

I was told that marriages of the brothers and sisters (celibates) are not unknown; but I also understood that such a thing is considered backsliding. Persons thus married remain members of the church, but must leave the community, and find support elsewhere.[87]

In an article by Redmond Conyngham (Hazard’s Register, vol. v.) will be found the statement that the “President of the Dunkers” says, “We deny eternal punishment; those souls who become sensible of God’s great goodness and clemency, and acknowledge his lawful authority, ... and that Christ is the only true Son of God, are received into happiness; but those who continue obstinate are kept in darkness until the great day, when light will make all happy.” According to Dr. Fahnestock, however, the idea of a universal restoration, which existed in the early days, is not now publicly taught.

The observance of the Seventh day as a sabbath must always be onerous, in a community like ours. Hired people are not required by the Siebentaeger (or Seventh-Day men) to work on Saturday; and, unless of their own persuasion, will not work on Sunday.

It has been said that the customs at Ephrata resembled the Judaic ones; and Endress says that they consider baptism similar to purification in the Mosaic law,—as a rite which may be repeated from time to time when the believer has become defiled by the world, and would again renew his union with Christ. But Miller says (1790), “Our standard is the New Testament.”[88]

Fahnestock says that they do not approve of paying their ministers; and it seems that the women, or at least the single sisters, are at liberty to speak in religious meetings.

In the correspondence of one of our Lancaster papers of 1871, there was given the following account: “Ephrata, May 21.—The Society of the Seventh-Day Baptists held their semi-annual love-feast yesterday, when one new member was added to the society by immersion. In the evening the solemn feast of the Lord’s Supper was celebrated, the occasion attracting a large concourse of people,—only about half of whom could obtain seats. The conduct of a number of persons on the outside was a disgrace to an intelligent community.”

The article also mentions preachers as present from Bedford, Franklin, and Somerset Counties. However, the whole number of the Seventh-Day German Baptists, in our State, is very small.

* * * * *

The foregoing article is published nearly as it appeared in the second edition of this volume. In the present year, 1882, Mr. Adam Konigmacher Fahnestock, of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, has lent me a little memorial which he had prepared of his own family. A passage in it seems to elucidate the history of the clock at Ephrata, which bears on its face “Hoeckers a Creveld.” On St. John’s day, November 13, 1753, Diedrich Fanestuck writes to his brother in Prussia. (The letter is said to have been written near Ephrata.) He writes that his son, who is going to Europe, will stop at Crefeld, “where he is to have some clocks made for us.” He adds, “I pray you to write again. You may send the letters to Crefeld, there are three brothers living there, Wilhelmus, Christophorus, and Lucas Heckers, to them you might send them.”

In a foot-note A. K. Fahnestock says, 1878, October 17: “I had the pleasure this day of seeing one of those clocks (seven feet high), still showing the time of day. It is in the ‘sister-house’ at Ephrata.” (The preposition a on the clock, Hoeckers a Creveld, would seem to indicate that this Hoeckers were French refugees. Perhaps with a translated name.)

* * * * *

In this year, 1882, the writer of this volume again visited Ephrata. One of her acquaintance spoke to her of the community at Snow Hill, on the Antietam. She said, “It’s a large nunnery, and the rooms are all empty; there’s hardly any one there.” She added, however, that there are a good many married Seventh-Day Baptists at Snow Hill.

The old buildings at Ephrata, the brother- and sister-house, are still kept in sufficient repair to make inmates comfortable, and are occupied by unmarried women, widows, and families; not all Seventh-Day Baptists. The farm belonging to the Baptists contains about eighty acres.

As I drew near one of these buildings on Sunday, I saw washed clothes hanging out. Saturday is the Sabbath of these Baptists, and like the rest of the world it appears that such begin their week with washing.

The little community at the time of my visit was grievously exercised over a lawsuit among the members. The matter had been referred to a master in chancery, who thus speaks of them in his report: “At the time of the commencement of the differences from which has sprung the present controversy, and for some years previously, the members of the society in regular attendance at its meetings, and habitually observant of its religious ordinances, were in number about thirty, of whom not less than three-fourths appear to have been women. They seem to be an uneducated or but slightly educated people, in narrow circumstances as to property, the male members being in general mechanics and laboring men, resident in and about the village of Ephrata, in this county, and a considerable proportion of all the members, male as well as female, being dependent for subsistence either wholly or partially upon the funds of the society. They do not appear to have formulated specifically articles of faith or rules of discipline, but profess to take for their guidance simply the Bible and New Testament, and the distinctive features of their practice are, their observance of the seventh day of the week instead of the first as the Sabbath; the administration of the rite of baptism by trine immersion, with forward action, in a stream of flowing water; and by the love-feasts held annually at their communion, and lasting from Friday evening until Sunday morning, at which food is provided for all members, as well as all strangers who may choose to attend the meeting; and by the washing of each other’s feet by the members, previously to the breaking of bread at the communion.... The church at Ephrata, it should be mentioned, is one of four branches, as they are called, of the society of [German?] Seventh-Day Baptists. The other three being established, respectively, at Snow Hill, Bedford, and Alleghany, in this State.”

BETHLEHEM AND THE MORAVIANS.

On August 22, 1873, as I stood upon the tower of Packer Hall, Lehigh University, I saw spread out before me the whole of Bethlehem, with furnaces, railroads, bridges, churches, schools; and the rolling country and cultivated fields of Northampton and Lehigh Counties. Pointing to a wooded hill, my little guide said, “That is Iron Hill, where iron ore comes from.”[89]

In the first house built at Bethlehem, on the 24th of December, 1741, Zinzendorf and his companions celebrated their first Christmas Eve in America. I saw in the town a picture, by Grünewald, of the house in which they met,—a long, one-story log house, with overhanging eaves, the unbroken forest behind admirably expressing the loneliness of the situation. In the beginning, one end of this building was for cattle, as in Switzerland and other parts of South Germany.

When this first house was newly erected, Zinzendorf visited it, and on Christmas Eve he went with others into the stable and sang,—

“Nicht aus Jerusalem, sondern Bethlehem Aus dem kommt, was mir frommt.”

or, in prose,

“That which is profitable to me comes not from Jerusalem, but from Bethlehem,”—

and thus the new-born _town_ was named Bethlehem.

“The material treasures of the Lehigh valley,” says a Moravian bishop, “the national rage of hastening to be rich, will, I fear, too much overgrow the spiritual interests of the people.”

Since Zinzendorf entered the log cabin of Bethlehem one hundred and thirty years have passed by, and four or five generations of mortal men. Other changes too have befallen the Moravians. For twenty years they lived in an _economie_, or associated like one family. That strict rule, which afterwards kept the unmarried in brother- and sister-houses, has since been annulled, and no vestige of it remains here but in the custom of sitting in church, the brethren on one side, and the sisters on the other. And this is not universal: families sit together.

In like manner has disappeared here the custom of appealing to the lot, which formerly prevailed even in matters so solemn as marriage.[90]

The plainness of apparel which distinguished the Moravians has disappeared also. Once even the young ladies who studied at the boarding-school were obliged to wear the peculiar Moravian dress.

In the Historical Collection at Nazareth are preserved thick muslin caps, such as the women once wore, with peculiar pieces, like a scallop shell, to cover the ears. Those tasteful little caps now worn by the young women in the choir, and the neat ones worn by the sisters who serve at the love-feasts, can scarcely keep up the memory of those of olden time.

Once the Moravians did not take oaths, but obeyed literally the command, “Swear not at all;” but now judicial oaths are permitted.

Formerly, the bulk of the real estate belonged to the church, and none could buy who were not members; but this rule has been broken, and _foreigners_ have been allowed to buy land in Bethlehem and other Moravian towns.[91]

One trait, which has hitherto remarkably distinguished them, still exists, namely, a great missionary zeal. In 1873 a gentleman gave the numbers of the Moravians at seventy thousand baptized missionary converts, to twenty-three thousand home members in Europe and America. On this estimate the missionary converts are more than three to each of the members in the other lands.[92]

At Bethlehem a considerable landed estate belongs to the Church, whence is drawn an income of about eighteen thousand dollars. All the institutions of learning here, including the Young Ladies’ Boarding-School, belong to the Church, and the teachers are its salaried officers.

The different provinces of the Church, the American, English, and German, are like separate States of our Union, their general head meeting or residing in Saxony. This general synod still, in some respects, gives rules to our Pennsylvania Moravians; and one of the bishops says that the Moravian is the only Protestant Church which is a unity throughout the world.

FESTIVALS.