Warm homes … Molotschna style

No matter how expensive our winter heating costs might be, most of us would not trade places with our ancestors in nineteenth-century Molotschna. Consider, for example, the reminiscences of Mary Wall Regier, who was born in 1859 in Altonau, then moved to Alexanderkrone at age nine or ten. (This is the same village where Peter D and Sarah lived for several years, so Mary would have been twelve when Peter P was two. She probably knew our family.) She recorded her memories of life in Molotschna in 1930, when she was seventy, and her son C. C. Regier translated and published her record in 1941.

Today’s topic is the central stove, which was used not only to cook but also to heat the house:

The house was so arranged that the kitchen was toward the center. Here the stove was situated which heated also the big brick chimney. The chimney was so large that it formed a part of the walls of the living rooms. By firing the stove in the kitchen the bricks of the chimney were heated, and they in turn heated the rooms without soiling them. Most of the heating was done with straw. Only on special occasions did we use dried dung. To be able to use dung seemed very pleasant. The region was timberless, except for the woods that had been planted. For that reason we could not heat with wood. (Regier 1941, 88)

Mary Regier continues:

Now I must tell you how we obtained this dung fuel. During the winter the cow dung was put on a special place. A little horse dung could be mixed with it, but not much. This, I think, does not burn well, and it was needed for fertilizing the land. When it got warmer in spring the Russians came and prepared the dung. We had brick-forms which were used. The stuff had to be prepared first. With their feet they kneaded it, using a little chaff and water so that it would form a mass that would hold together when it dried. Then they put it on a table and kneaded it into the brick-forms with their hand, after which it was carried off to dry. When it had dried a little it was erected into little houses so it could dry thoroughly. Then we carried it into the barn, and were proud of all our fuel. Our wish was that we might have more of it. (Regier 1941, 89)

Next time you pay your utilities, it might be less painful to do so if you remember that at least you don’t have to wish that you had more dung.

Source

Regier, C. C. 1941.  Childhood Reminiscences of a Russian Mennonite Immigrant Mother 1859–1880. MQR 15:83–94.