Questions of birth 2

An earlier post asked three questions about the births of Grandma Malinda’s children (see here):

• Where did Grandma Malinda give birth?


• Who assisted with these births?


• What did the older children do when it was time for a new birth?

Dad (Carl) has kindly provided further information about these matters.

First, all eight children were born at home, although there is a minor question about which home was the setting for the first child born: Grandma and Grandpa’s house or the home of one of their parents. All the other children were born at Grandma and Grandpa’s home.

Second, it appears that all the births were assisted only by a midwife. Dad explains that, with Ruth, the actual birth was assisted by a midwife, although Dr. Carr later made a house call to ensure that mother and child were doing well.

Low German has several terms for “midwife”: Häwaum (variants Häbaum and Häbame), Weemutta, and Popkjemutta. However, none of those seems to be the term used in the Buller household. The first is clearly related to High German Hebamme (an Amme is a nurse), but the precise term used within our family remains unknown for now.

The midwives who assisted Grandma included, I am told, Daniel’s future mother-in-law Katharina Rempel, Lena Regier, and Hope Dischau (?). Apparently each midwife was unmarried at the time, which seems surprising, given the benefit that the experience of giving birth would presumably offer those serving as midwives. However, it seems that midwifery in the Henderson-Lushton area during the 1920s and 1930s was performed primarily by unmarried women who gave up the role when they married and started their own families.

Third and last, the older children were not sent off to a relative’s house but stayed at home through every birth. On the day Ruth was born, Daniel and Diet Quiring were helping Grandpa Chris cut ice on the West Fork of the Big Blue River (not far south of the farmstead, for those who remember the Lushton farm); the rest of the kids were in or around the house.

The reference to cutting ice evokes additional questions, of course, but that is a matter for another post. It is enough for now to have answers to our three questions, answers that demonstrate both the similarity of our family’s experience to what was described in Marlene Epp’s Mennonite Women in Canada: A History and several differences between what was the norm in other places and the birth practices in early twentieth-century central Nebraska.

GM 6b, Helena Zielke Buller, 11304

The first post about Helena Zielke Buller covered her birth and death; in this post we turn to her family relations.

Family, Spouse: We know that Helena was married to David Buller, and we assume that he was her only husband. The GRANDMA entry is completely accurate on this matter.

Family, Children: The GM entry lists eight children for Helena, but, as we learned with the David Buller entry (here), she was more likely the mother of only six, three girls and three boys:

Helena: 1844
Peter: 1845
Elisabeth: 1847
Benjamin: 1851
Maria: 1853
David: 1855

As suggested in the previous post, Helena’s death may have been associated with the birth of her sixth child, David.

Father and Mother: GM does not list any other family members, but we are now able to supply the names of Helena’s parents and (some) siblings.

According to the 1820 Rovno register (link 1 in the first post), Helena’s family included:

Jacob Tzlivk [Zielke]		37
his wife Maria				46
sons Johan		11
Friedrich		2
daughters Maria				10
Katherina				8
Helena				1

1. The GM database lists nine Jacob Zielkes, but none of them is possibly Helena’s father. Given his age of thirty-seven in 1820, he was born in 1783 or thereabouts.

2. We do not know the maiden name of Helena’s mother Maria. Her age indicates a birth year around 1774. Her oldest child listed on the Rovno census was born when she was thirty-five, which seems a bit late in life for her to begin bearing children. One wonders if this marriage was her first.

3. Helena had two older brothers and two older sisters. None of them is listed in GM, and at present we know nothing further about them. It seems unlikely that Helena other living siblings, considering that her mother was forty-six when Helena was one.

Summary

1. Helena was probably born in 1819 but possibly in 1818. She was born in the Mennonite village of Zofyovka in the Rovno district of Volhynia. Her parents were Jacob and Maria Zielke.

2. Although Helena’s father is not listed among those who wished to emigrate to Waldheim or those who received land in Waldheim (see documents linked here), it is likely that the family did move to Waldheim within the early years of its existence, since Helena and David Buller apparently married there in the early 1840s.

3. Helena’s father Jacob may be mentioned in an 1845 list of Waldheim residents who had decided to return to Volhynia, but the reference may also be to another Jacob Zielke who lived in Waldheim (see further here).

4. Helena gave birth to three girls and three boys between the years 1844 and 1855.

5. Helena and family journeyed from Waldheim to Heinrichsdorf in Volhynia in 1848/1849; Helena and David and their three oldest children are listed on the 1850 Heinrichsdorf census.

6. We believe that Helena accompanied David and family back to Waldheim in Molotschna colony sometime between 1850 and 1855, although the date of the return is not certain.

7. Helena appears to have passed away in 1855, perhaps as a result of complications with the birth of her last child, David. Presumably Helena was and is buried in the Waldheim cemetery.

GM 6a, Helena Zielke Buller, 11304

After a brief detour into matters of more general Mennonite interest, we are ready to return to the series that examines, corrects, and supplements the GRANDMA database entries on our immediate and more distant family. We last covered Grandpa Chris’s great-grandfather David Buller (here); we pick up with David Buller’s first wife, Helena Zielke.

The information given in GM can be expanded and corrected in a number of places.

Sources: Information relevant to Helena Zielke Buller appears in the following sources:

1. Register of Mennonites in Rovno Region, Volhynia, 1819–1820


2. 1850 Census of Heinrichsdorf, Volhynia


3. Buller Family Record

Birth: The GM date of birth is presumably an estimate based on Helena’s husband David’s listed year of birth (which is itself off by a year, as demonstrated in his entry).

The best evidence for Helena’s date of birth is the Rovno register (link 1 above), which lists her age when the census was taken in 1820. (It is possible that the census was taken in 1819, but 1820 seems to me more likely). As can be seen in the last line of the register entry below, Helena was a year old at that time.

The same Rovno register lists her future husband David’s age as two, so it stands to reason that she was born a year after he was, thus probably in 1819.

However, the 1850 census of Heinrichsdorf (link 2, family 22) states that both Helena and David were thirty-one when that census was taken, so we cannot be certain that Helena was born one year after David; both may have been born in 1818. At the least, we can be fairly confident that the two were relatively close in age, with David up to a year older.

Whether Helena was born in 1818 or 1819, we can be certain that she was born in Volhynia, in the village of Zofyovka. Her family was among those who settled in that village in 1810, so there can be little doubt that Helena was born there. She was not, contra the Buller Family Record (link 3), born in Poland.

Death: GM’s date and place of death are reasonable estimates.

The GM date of death presumably is based on the information provided in the Buller Family Record, which lists 1855 followed by a question mark. One imagines that Helena’s date of associated with the birth of her last son, David, whose date of birth is given as 14 February 1855. The hypothesis would be that Helena died sometime shortly after his birth, perhaps even as a result of complications arising from that birth. None of this is known, of course; it is all hypothetical.

We might further specify the place of Helena’s death as Waldheim in Molotschna colony, which was, to be sure, south Russia. We cannot state this with certainty, but it seems most likely. We know that David, Helena, and children were in the village Heinrichsdorf in Volhynia in 1850 (link 2). We also know that, sometime before the 1858 compilation of the Heinrichsdorf church book, David, Helena, and family had left the village, since they do not appear in it.

The question then becomes: Did the family leave Heinrichsdorf before or after Helena’s death? As is generally the case, we can offer only a plausible explanation, not certainty. If Helena had died while the family was in Heinrichsdorf, one would have expected David to stay close to his family support system there, rather than to leave for Waldheim with six children in tow or even to remarry relatively quickly and then leave with his new wife and large brood to relocate hundreds of miles south. None of this can be known, of course, but it seems most likely, I think, that Helena died in Waldheim and was buried there.

*****

This seems a reasonable place to stop for the moment. Thus far we have corrected the GM date and place of birth and clarified the likely place of death. The next post will expand the GM information about Helena’s family significantly, which could or should lead to the addition of several entries to the GM database.

American Agriculturalist, 1879

The American Agriculturalist magazine featured in several earlier posts (here and here) published another interesting article relevant to Mennonites in 1879 (the same year that Peter D and Sarah emigrated to Nebraska). The unsigned article “How Russian Farmers Live” mentions “the peculiar people called Mennonites” but focuses primarily on Russian peasants and their villages.  So, although the descriptions and illustrations are not directly relevant to Mennonite life in Russia, it is indirectly relevant, in that the article describes the Russian peasant population among whom our ancestors lived.

 How Russian Farmers Live

It seems a long time since we have had a talk about the ways of people in other countries than ours—and for a variety we will take a peep at the way in which the Russian farmers live—and this of course will include the Russian farmers’ boys and girls. We hear much more now about Russia than we formerly did, and we can hardly take up a paper without finding something about Russia. To he sure, it is not all pleasant; we read of the great war with Turkey, of the plague, that dreadful disease, being in Russia, of political troubles in St. Petersburgh, Moscow, and other large cities, of the killing of officers, of the sending of people to Siberia to get the troublesome ones out of the way, and besides many other matters, we hear of the peculiar people called Mennonites, coming to this country. This is perhaps the best thing that we read now-a-days of Russia, for these Mennonites are peace-loving, industrious people, who come here in large colonies of families, settle in some part of the far-West, and form villages and towns of their own, where they lead quiet and useful lives. Their grand-children will be as good Americans as the best. But we were to say something of how the Russian farmer lives at home.

The engraving, fig. 1, … of a farm village in the great wheat region of Central Russia, the neighborhood of the river Volga, where the country is generally level. The Russians have one custom which is common in the farming districts of Europe generally. Instead of having each house near the center of the farm, and the houses a long distances apart, as with us, the farmer does not generally live on his farm. The houses are built in a village, with may be the barns and granaries near the house, or on the home lot, but the land that is cultivated may be two or three or more miles away. The people have to travel far and spend much time in going to and coming from work, but it makes farm-life more sociable, as the people can see one another and enjoy many things that arc not possible where all arc scattered far and wide. It might be well if we adopted something of this plan in this country; both methods have their advantages, and people are slow to give up their old ways.

One writer says that he travelled in that part of Russia for miles and miles, and saw nothing but wheat field after wheat field, varied with wide tracts where horses and cattle pastured, but no fences anywhere. At last he saw some curious green objects in the distance shaped like enormous pears; at length he made out that these were cupolas of the church, and before he was aware of it, he was upon the village, with no other warning than the barking of dogs. Russian farmers, like poor people everywhere, keep an abundance of worthless curs. This writer gives (fig. 1 [above]) a picture of the first of these villages he saw. The small log-houses are all alike, and arranged in several rows, with wide streets between them half a mile or more long. At one end of the village is the church, with its odd cupolas, at the other the larger house of the land-owner (not shown) who rents the farms to the tenants. Small granaries—the square huts without windows—stand in the middle of the street, and long rows of tall poles, show that water is raised here by the old fashioned well sweep.

In some places, where logs can only be had by hauling for great distances, the villages are of mud houses, built of bricks merely dried in the sun; one of these houses is shown in fig. 2, and these, while they can not be called handsome, are said to be very comfortable in the long cold winters. Pigs, poultry, and curs, run at large in the streets, and when a stranger enters these make a great fuss.

Not a very attractive picture of farm-life you will think, yet many thousands of people live in just this way, and it is well to know it. Compare such a farm-house as one of these with one of ours—your own, it may be, with all its pleasant surroundings without, and the many home comforts within. If the comparison makes you the more contented with your own—and it is a fact, that boys, and girls too, are more apt to compare their own lot with that of those who are belter off, than with that of those who are more poorly off than themselves—if, we say, a comparison makes you better appreciate the home, such as it is, and brings that content without which no home can be happy—then it will be well that you have taken a glimpse at the way farmers live in Russia. Recollect: “There is no place like home.”

Work Cited

Anonymous. 1879. “How Russian Farmers Live.” American Agriculturalist 38:273–74. Available online here.

Questions of birth

My nighttime reading has recently been in Marlene Epp’s Mennonite Women in Canada: A History. Chapter 2 of this interesting and informative work, “Wives, Mothers, and ‘Others’: Women within Families,” covers a variety of topics, including matters so foreign to the experience of those of my generation and younger that we generally do not realize how different the world of our parents and ancestors actually was.

Consider, for example, childbirth in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. According to Epp (she is writing from the perspective of Mennonite communities in Canada, but it is reasonable to think that conditions were roughly the same south of the border), through the late 1930s and into the 1940s, childbirth typically took place at home with the assistance of a midwife. Birth in a hospital or even under the care of a doctor was not a given in earlier times.

Epp describes how, in many Canadian Mennonite communities, pregnancy was “too delicate to talk about,” so mothers-to-be frequently wore loose-fitting clothing in order to conceal a pregnancy. Epp quotes one Mennonite woman from that era as follows, “You wore a garment or corset and hid that you were pregnant as long as you could and never ever told your other children that you were going to have a baby” (2008, 74–75). Epp continues:

Despite the frequency of childbirth in Mennonite households, and the fact that most births occurred at home, children often didn’t know what was going on when it came time for their mother to deliver the next offspring. Usually, children were sent to a neighbour’s or nearby relative’s home when Mother went into labour, then returned to find, to their surprise, a new brother or sister at home.

In my father’s family of thirteen children, because their mother was a stout woman and wore loose dresses almost always covered with an apron, they didn’t always know when a new sibling was expected. Even fourteen-year-old Olga Hildebrand, the third of ten children, didn’t know what was up when she and her siblings were hastily sent to the neighbours; the “lump” under her mother’s apron was, she thought just an indication that the woman had been eating too many “homemade noodles with cream gravy.”  (2008, 75)

Epp’s account moves on to the role of midwives in childbirth. Sarah Dekker Thielman, for example, served as midwife for over 1,400 births between 1909 and 1941. Other Canadian midwives likewise assisted in hundreds of births over the course of their lives. Some midwives were specifically trained in childbirth procedures, but others are more in the “category of the ‘neighbourhood-midwife,” a woman who operated within a relatively small geographic area and whose expertise as a ‘baby-catcher’ was gained primarily through self-teaching and personal experience” (2008, 78).

According to Epp,

Midwives spent a considerable amount of time with their ‘patients’ both before and after the birth and saw their role as greater than only the delivery of babies. Katherina Hiebert regularly brought bedding, baby clothes, and food along to deliveries.… Midwives also offered women knowledge about non-medicinal methods to deal with the harshness to their bodies of almost constant childbirth. (2008, 79–80)

Even when doctors became more readily available to assist with home childbirth, midwives played a significant, often leading, role during this this crucial, and always dangerous, time in a woman and her family’s life.

Reading through this section (which is far richer and more detailed than this post can adequately reflect) raised a number of questions about the experiences of our own families. Obviously, our Russian ancestors and the first generations living in the United States experienced childbirth at home under the guidance and care of midwives. One wonders how many of our family died during or as a result of this traumatic experience. Is it possible that Helena Zielke Buller died giving birth to her last son, David? We do not know, but it would not be surprising if that is what happened.

Of course, this leads to questions of a more immediate and personal (I trust not too personal) nature:

• Where did Grandma Malinda give birth? 
• Who assisted with these births? 
• What did the older children do when it was time for a new birth? 

Buller Time invites any of Grandma’s children to respond in greater detail. For now all we have is a selection from an earlier post containing Ruth’s story (see here):

It was a clear crisp day in the country home of Cornelius and Malinda Franz Buller, located in between two small Nebraska towns of Lushton and Grafton. With six small children aged nine years to eleven months old, there was never a lack of excitement going on in the home. But this day in February was especially preoccupied and intense. The doctor had come to the home to deliver a baby and all the children were astir with excitement while adults were concerned about boiled water for sterilizing, timing of the pains, and such. This made for an intensely busy household. A cry in the air brought about smiles to the faces of the children and relief to those involved in the delivering of a baby girl on that February 16, 1937. She was named Ruth C. and so was beginning of the seventh child in the Chris Buller home.

Our three questions can be answered for Ruth: she was born at home with the assistance of a doctor, and the other kids were home the entire time. How were other births similar or different? Buller Time encourages all of Grandma’s children to contribute their memories as they are able.

Work Cited

Epp, Marlene. 2008. Mennonite Women in Canada: A History. Studies in Immigration and Culture. Winnipeg: University of Manitoba Press.

From George to Benjamin

Buller Time was asked a few days ago about the connection between one of the earliest Bullers we have identified and the more recent Bullers we have been discussing: Benjamin 1, Benjamin 2, David, and so on. One might pose the question visually as follows:

What is the relation between

and

?

If that is not perfectly clear, then perhaps words can help: What is the relation between George Buller of the Przechowka church and our earliest documentable ancestors Benjamin 1–Benjamin 2–David? This post will attempt to answer that question in a clear and orderly manner, although the answer will by no means be simple and direct.

1. We begin with George Buller, who was born sometime around 1650 (see top of the first chart above). The Przechowka church book does not provide George’s first name (so we originally referred to him as Unknown Buller), but the Hendrik Berents travel diary leaves no doubt: his first name was George (here).

According to the Przechowka church book and the Berents travel diary, George Buller was married to Dina Thoms. The church book also associates eight children with the family: Hans, George, Liscke, Peter, Sarcke, Efcke, Maricke, and Trudcke. What is interesting is that the church book also implies that only the seven listed after Hans, the oldest, were Dina’s children; Hans, it seems, had a different mother (see here).

This raises the question whether Dina Thoms was George’s first wife. We cannot say for certain, but the statement in the church book and other considerations suggest that she was not. What are those other considerations? The children listed in the church book were born, it appears in 1695 and after. While it is possible that George fathered his first child at age forty-five or thereabouts, it would have been unusual in that time and place. Dina’s seven children seem more likely George’s second family than his first family. This, of course, also explains why Hans, who was apparently older than the other children listed in the church book, was distinguished from them: he had a different mother, George’s previous wife.

2. If this basic premise is correct, that George had another family before the one we know about from the Przechowka church book, then we have a possible solution to an otherwise-baffling observation: the Przechowka church book offers a relatively complete list of Bullers in the church who descended from George, but it lists no one to whom we can trace the Benjamin 1–Benjamin 2–David line. Most of the Bullers in the broader family can be traced back to one of George’s three named sons, but our ancestors Benjamin 1–Benjamin 2–David cannot. There are only two ways to explain that fact: either we are not descended from George Buller, or we are related to George through a son other than Hans, George, or Peter. The second possibility may seem like grasping at straws, but it is not as outlandish as it first appears.

3. We know from contemporary records that, before moving to the Przechowka church area, George lived in a village named Schönsee approximately 10 miles to the east–northeast of the Przechowka church (see here, here, and here). Sometime between 1700 and 1705 George and (part of his) family moved from Schönsee to Przechowka. The crucial question for our purposes is not who moved with George but rather who did not move with George.

If, as seems reasonable, George began fathering children when he was around twenty, his oldest was born around 1770. Other children naturally followed. The oldest would have been at least thirty when George left Schönsee for Przechowka; a child born ten years later would have been twenty or more. These children probably had the same mother as Hans; for convenience, one can label them family 1. Children of family 1 who were of adult age would not be expected to move with their father and his family 2 (the children of Dina Thoms); only minor-aged children such as Hans would move with his father and stepmother. The adult children of family 1 would remain where they already lived and thus would not be listed in the Przechowka church book.

4. Several other considerations deserve mention. The village Schönsee actually had two Mennonite churches. One was associated with the Przechowka church and thus part of the Old Flemish branch. The other Schönsee church was of the Frisian group, which was not as conservative as Old Flemish congregations (see here). The Flemish and Frisian branches did not associate with one another, but there are records of individual Mennonites leaving one group to join the other. One wonders if this is what happened with George: Did he leave the Schönsee Frisian church upon or after his marriage to Dina Thoms?

The possibility is implied by a further observation: Dina Thoms’s family had a long-time association with the Przechowka church. One might reconstruct the scenario as follows: after George’s first wife died, he married Dina Thoms and, because of her strongly family ties to Przechowka, transferred his church association from the Frisian to the Old Flemish branch of the church; some time later George, Dina, and family moved from Schönsee to Przechowka, where they became firmly entrenched in the Przechowka church. George’s first family remained in Schönsee at the Frisian church there and thus are neither mentioned nor hinted at in the Przechowka church book.

5. Do Bullers appear in a Schönsee Frisian church book? Unfortunately, records from the period in question are lost or never existed. To my knowledge, the earliest Schönsee church records are from 1862, long after our ancestors would have left the area. Our only evidence, therefore, is the certainty that George lived in Schönsee before 1705 and the likelihood that he had children before those listed in the Przechowka church book.

6. One might question, given the sketchiness of the evidence, if we are even related to George. To be honest, we do not know even that much. However, it seems plausible that we are, given the fact that all the Mennonite Bullers originally from the Culm area (Przechowka and Schönsee), which almost certainly was the original home of the Benjamin 1–Benjamin 2–David line, seem to have descended from George. To put the matter differently, we know of no other Mennonite Bullers in the area from whom Benjamin 1–Benjamin 2–David might have descended; George is the only one.

***

So where does this leave us in terms of our original question: What is the relation between George Buller and our earliest documentable ancestors Benjamin 1–Benjamin 2–David?

• Because we know of no other Mennonite Buller from the Polish locale in which our ancestral line presumably lived, we probably descend from George Buller.
• Because the Benjamin 1–Benjamin 2–David line apparently does not descend from George’s three known sons from Przechowka (Hans, George Peter), we probably descend from another son of George.

If those two hypotheses are true, then we can say that there is no direct relation between the top chart headed by George and the bottom one stretching from Benjamin 1 to David. The top chart displays George’s family 2, the bottom one (our ancestors) the descendants of family 1. The crucial thing to keep in mind is that it seems most probable that George did not have a family, as in only one family; like many of that era and beyond, George probably had at least two wives (the first one having died) and thus two nuclear families.

If we are descended from George, then the line of descent is probably through a wife other than Dina Thoms and thus a son not listed in the Przechowka church book. The relations could be represented as follows:

George Buller (ca. 1650–ca. 1717)	—	wife 1 in Schönsee (not Dina Thoms)
|
????? Buller (ca. 1675–????)	—	?????
|
????? Buller (1700s?)	—	?????
|
????? Buller (1730s?)	—	?????
|
Benjamin Buller 1 1760s	—	?????
|
Benjamin Buller 2 (1789–????)	—	Helena  ????? (1793/9–????)
|
David B Buller (1818–1904)	—	Helena Zielke (1819–1855?)

This reconstruction has three unknown generations between George and Benjamin 1. Not only do we not know who these missing Bullers were, but we cannot even say with certainty that there were three generations or even that Benjamin 1 was directly descended from George. That seems the most probable explanation at present, but it may turn out slightly or even significantly incorrect. Only additional evidence will indicate what the true state of affairs actually is.

GM 5b, David Buller, 11303

We pick up where we left off with the first post on David Buller. For the first half of the David Buller entry, see here. For convenience, the GM entry for David is repeated.

Family, Spouse: The Buller Family Record agrees with GM that David was married twice; however, the BFR is unaware of the identity of his second wife.

There is no contemporary source attesting David’s marriage to Helena Zielke, only a BFR statement to that effect. Based on the 1850 Heinrichsdorf census (link 2 above), we know David was married to a woman named Helena, but her maiden name is not provided. That being said, we have no reason to doubt the family memory of this detail; names are more accurately remembered than specific dates.

The identification of David’s second wife as a Ratzlaff is suspect. The GM entry does not provide a source for the listing, merely a statement that David’s “second wife may have been a Ratzlaff.” The entry for that person offers no additional information, only a repeat of the relevant data from David’s entry. It appears that this “person” has been created ex nihilo (Latin for “out of nothing”) based on an unsourced claim about the possible last name of David’s second wife. Granted, she may have been born a Ratzlaff, but she may also have been born a Schmidt or a Voth or a Sperling or a Nachtigal or a Pankratz, all family names attested in Waldheim during this time.

David was certainly married twice; youngest son Heinrich’s reference to his half-brothers makes that much clear (see here). The identity of his second wife was should remain unspecified until we happen upon some contemporary, or at least reliable, evidence identifying her.

Family, Children: GM indicates that David fathered nine children; the BFR agrees. Unfortunately, the two disagree on many details. The orders of birth for both are (children of wife 2 in red):

GRANDMA	Buller Family Record
Heinrich (about 1842)	Helena (????)
Peter (1845)	Peter (1845)
Elisabeth (1847)	Elisabeth (1847)
Helena (1849)	Benjamin (1851)
Sarah (about 1850)	Maria (1853)
Benjamin (1851)	David (1855)
Maria (1853)	Heinrich (????)
David (1855)	Jacob (1864)
Jacob (1864)	Sarah (????)

The names are all the same, but the order of births and the identifications of who was the mother of whom differ, at times significantly. Fortunately, several primary sources clarify some of these matters.

1. The 1850 census (link 2) proves fairly conclusively that the first three children were Helena, Peter, and Elisabeth, who were ages seven, six, and three, respectively. This corresponds more or less to birth years in 1844, 1845, and 1847, as the BFR has it. Therfore, for David’s first three children, we should follow the BFR and supply a birth year of 1844 for Helena.

2. GM and BFR agree that Benjamin was born in 1851, Maria in 1853, and David in 1855. For now (until we look at each of those entries), we will consider that information correct.

3. GM is obviously wrong about its placement of Heinrich: he does not appear on the 1850 census (and thus was not the firstborn), and he himself refers to his half-brothers (see here), thus indicating that he was not a son of Helena Zielke. The BFR placement of Heinrich is more correct than GM.

4. Jacob’s birth in 1864 as a son of David’s second wife seems fairly certain; it is consistent with the Molotschna school registers (link 3 in the first David post), which identify Jacob as David’s nine-year-old son in the 1873–1874 school year. The BFR may be correct that Heinrich was older than Jacob, given that Heinrich does not appear on the Molotschna school register; if this Heinrich was the father of another Buller named Heinrich who was born in 1783 (GM 73184; it is highly likely), then he was no doubt older than Jacob.

5. This leaves Sarah, whom GM dates to about 1850, the BFR to sometime after 1864. At present we cannot say which, if either, is correct.

Based on all available evidence, the most likely order of children is:

Helena: 1844
Peter: 1845
Elisabeth: 1847
Benjamin: 1851
Maria: 1853
David: 1855
Heinrich: about 1860
Jacob: 1864
Sarah: unknown

In this scheme, the first six children were Helena Zielke’s, the last three of David’s second wife.

Father and Mother: GM has incorrect and missing information.

1. We know from multiple primary sources that David’s father was named Benjamin (links 1 and 2; other primary sources confirm his name and association with David’s siblings and thus David). We can even identify which Benjamin in the GM database: 402138. GM errs in identifying Peter Buller 1337154 as David’s father; since 1337154 is listed only as father of David (no other information is given), he should be removed from the database.

2. We can also say that David’s mother was named Helena, although we do not know her maiden name (GM 402139). The evidence for Helena’s name includes the Rovno register (link 1), the 1850 Heinrichsdorf census (link 2), and the church book from the same village (here).

Notes: The complexity of information on David does not lend itself well to easy summary. Still, we can identify certain elements of his GM entry that should be revised.

1. David was born 25 January 1818 in the village of Zofyovka in the Rovno region of Volhynia.

2. He died 25 November 1904 in Waldheim, having lived eighty-six years and ten months.

3. The name of David’s second wife is completely unknown.

4. Daughter Helena, born in 1844, was his oldest child; Heinrich the oldest of his second wife, was born about 1860. Sarah was perhaps his last-born child, but her we cannot be certain who her mother was or when she was born.

5. David’s father was Benjamin Buller 402138; his mother was Helena _____ 402139.

Looking back, one cannot help but be a little amazed at how much we have discovered about David since Buller Time began. Thanks to the Mennonite researchers who continue to uncover, transcribe, and make available the primary sources on which we have relied.

GM 5a, David Buller, 11303

With this post we return to our direct ancestral line, to Grandpa Chris’s great-grandfather David.

The information provided to GRANDMA is more extensive for David than that given for the Bullers already surveyed in this series; unfortunately, much of that information is incorrect.

Sources: Information relevant to David Buller appears in the following sources:

1. Register of Mennonites in Rovno Region, Volhynia, 1819–1820


2. 1850 Census of Heinrichsdorf, Volhynia


3. 1873–1874 Molotschna School Registers


4. Buller Family Record

To this list we should add the series of letters appearing in Die Mennonitische Rundschau that Buller Time examined in two series: The death of David Buller (here, here, here, and here) and Letters from Waldheim (here, here, here, here, and here).

Birth: The first order of business is to correct the date and place of David’s birth.

The Mennonitische Rundschau letters permit us to date David’s death precisely to 25 November 1904 (see further below); because we know that David lived eighty-six years and ten months (to the day, it seems), we can calculate a birth date of 25 January 1818.

GM apparently relies on the Buller Family Record for its date of birth and for its statement that David was born in Prussia. However, the BFR is mistaken on both counts. As shown in the Rovno register (link 1 above), David was two years old when the census was taken in 1820 (possibly 1819). More important, his family emigrated to Zofyovka in 1817, before David was born by any reckoning. This means, of course, that David was born in the village Zofyovka in the Rovno region of Volhynia. The entire GM line about David’s birth stands in need of correction.

Death: The GM place of death is correct, but the date is mistaken.

The Mennonitische Rundschau letters covered in the series on the death of David Buller were written within a few days to several months of his death; they are thus contemporary witnesses that should be judged as highly reliable with regard to their details. David’s date of death is given in a letter written by his son Heinrich as 12 November 1904. This date is likely given according to the Julian calendar (Russia was still using the Julian in 1904); the date according to our (Gregorian) calendar would be 25 November 1904.

Ironically, the accuracy of the 25 November date is actually supported by the BFR’s mistaken listing of it as David’s date of birth (i.e., 25 November 1817). The date 25 November was clearly important  in our family memory, important enough to be remembered even when it was applied to the wrong event. The length of life was also recalled correctly (eighty-six years and ten months), and that led the compilers of our family record to calculate a date of birth to fit that number and the mistaken date of death.

Establishing an accurate date of death based on contemporary evidence enables us to calculate the correct date of birth, which is what we did above. David’s dates of birth and death can be considered securely established: he was born 25 January 1818 and died on 25 November 1904.

We are roughly halfway through the David Buller entry, which seems like a good place to end this post. The following post will take up David’s family relations, then summarize all that we know about him.

GM 4: Benjamin Buller 3

With this post we move to the third generation of our known ancestors. We began with Benjamin 1 (here), then followed with his son Benjamin 2 and the latter’s wife, Helena (here and here). Now we begin with Benjamin 2 and Helena’s oldest son: Benjamin Buller 3.

The lack of a GM number in the post title is a signal, just as it was with Benjamin Buller 1, that this person does not appear in the GM database.

Sources: Benjamin Buller 3 appears in five primary sources:

1. Register of Mennonites in Rovno Region, Volhynia, 1819–1820


2. Mennonites Who Transferred from Volhynia to Waldheim and Assigned Land in 1840


3. Mennonites in Waldheim Who Planted Potatoes and Flax in Spring 1839


4. List of Mennonites Moving from Waldheim Back to Volhynia and Those Remaining: 1845


5. Mennonites Assigned Wirtschaften in Waldheim in 1839–1841

Identity: We have multiple attestations of this person, which leaves little doubt about his existence. His first appearance is in the Rovno register (link 1 above), where his name is entered as Dominik. It is unclear why that name is recorded, since there is little doubt in the later records that he was named Benjamin (links 2–4).

Birth: Our only clue as to his year of birth is the age given in the Rovno register. He is listed as four years old, two years older than his brother David, so we can calculate his year of birth to have been in or around 1816. His status as the oldest child is confirmed by the fact that he was the first child in the family to be assigned a land allotment (link 2), which implies that he was the firstborn.

Family, Spouse: We assume Benjamin 3 was married (see next), but we know not to whom.

Family, Children: The 1845 list of Waldheim residents who decided to move back to Volhynia also records family members who were not moving back (link 4). So, in addition to listing the number of Bullers who were returning, the list records the number who remained in Waldheim, that is, Benjamin 3 and his family. According to the list, Benjamin 3’s family included two males and four females. We can deduce from this that Benjamin and his wife had one son and three daughters. Unfortunately, we do not know anything else about them, not even their names.

Notes

1. Benjamin 3’s history is the same as the rest of the family’s up through the assignment of land to Benajamin 2 in 1839. Benjamin 3 was also assigned a Wirtschaft the following year (link 2), which signals the establishment of his own household. Presumably he was married by that time.

2.  The list of Mennonites assigned Wirtschaften in Waldheim (link 5) correctly has two entries for Benjamin Buller: one of them was for Benjamin 2 (father), the other for Benjamin 3 (son). The two lot numbers assigned to these Bullers were 26 and 36; however, we do not know which lot belonged to father and which to son.

3. Surprisingly, we lose sight of Benjamin 3 after the 1845 record of his remaining in Waldheim. As a landowner, Benjamin was entitled to vote, but his name is nowhere to be found in the 1847 and 1851 Waldheim elections. In fact, according to the record of those elections (helpfully provided by Glenn Penner here), Jacob Loewen now owned plot 26 and Peter Huebert now owned plot 36. Regardless of which plot Benjamin 3 originally owned, one thing is certain: he did not own it as of 1847, just seven years after he first gained title to it.

Yet another document compiled by Glenn Penner (here) indicates that both Jacob Loewn and Peter Hiebert (not Huebert there) transferred to Waldheim in 1846. In all likelihood, one of the two bought Benjamin 3’s Wirtschaft at that time. So what happened to Benjamin 3? Did he die? move elsewhere? remain in Waldheim but pursue some other work?

Of these options, the first and the second seem the most likely. We know that in 1845 Benjamin had three daughters and one son. If he had remained in Waldheim, we should find those children on the Molotschna school records. However, the only Buller children in Waldheim in 1853–1855 (here) are from a different Buller family. There were additional Buller school children in Waldheim in 1861–1862 (here), but none of them had a father named Benjamin. This evidence implies that Benjamin 3 did not remain in Waldheim; it is more likely that he died or moved away.

We cannot really know what happened, although it is tempting to speculate. I cannot help but notice, for example, that in 1857–1858 a Benjamin Buller had a child in school in the village immediately to the west of Waldheim: Hierschau (see here). The two villages were within sight of one another, and it appears that many from Waldheim moved to Hierschau in the late 1840s. All that makes it tempting to imagine that fourteen-year-old Heinrich Buller, an 1857–1858 Hierschau student whose father was named Benjamin, is evidence that Benjamin 3 moved down the road from Waldheim to Hierschau. Presumably the same Benjamin lived in Hierschau in 1861–1862, when his daughter Katharina, age seven, attended school. 

Tempting as it is to think that this Benjamin Buller in Hierschau was Benjamin Buller 3, we simply do not know and dare not suggest it as even likely. Whoever this Benjamin Buller was, it seems he never owned a Wirtschaft in Hierschau.

In the end, Benjamin Buller 3 should be added to GRANDMA, with a year of birth around 1816 and his residence as a landowner in Waldheim. Adding him to the database would also enable him to be listed as the oldest son of Benjamin 2 and Helena, which would fill out the family more accurately than it currently is.

GM 3: Helena ????? Buller, 402139

Since Benjamin Buller 1’s wife is unknown, Helena Buller is our earliest known matriarch.

Her entry in the GM database is brief, reflecting the reality that all we really know about her is her first name. Whereas this post title signals our lack of knowledge of her maiden name by supplying ?????, GM does so by using _____ where her last name should appear.

Sources: The key sources of information about Helena include:

1. Register of Mennonites in Rovno Region, Volhynia, 1819–1820


2. The 1850 Census of Heinrichsdorf, Volhynia


3. Heinrichsdorf church book

Birth: GM states that her year of birth was 1799 but does not indicate a source. We can supply GM’s source, but we must also introduce some uncertainty. The Heinrichsdorf church book (link 3 above, p. 61, here) states that Helena was born in 1799, which one would think settles the matter. However, two other pieces of evidence point in a different direction.

The first mention of Helena, the 1820 Rovno register (link 1), lists Helena’s age as twenty-five and Benjamin 2’s as thirty-one. This six-year difference in ages would imply a year of birth of 1795 for Helena (since Benjamin 2 was born in 1789).

The 1850 Heinrichsdorf census (link 2) complicates the question further, since it records Helena’s age as fifty-seven and Benjamin’s as sixty-one, a difference of four years. Aligning this with Benjamin’s birth year would result in a 1793 year of birth for Helena.

In the end, we cannot know which of these dates—1793, 1795, or 1799—is correct, if any. For now, the best solution would seem to be to list the range 1793–1795.

Family, Spouse: Benjamin 2 is correctly identified as Helena’s husband. The evidence for this is the same as that given in the post about Benjamin 2 (here).

Family, Children: The corrections entered and comments made for Benjamin 2 apply to Helena as well. Simply stated, she was the mother of four sons and perhaps as many as five daughters.

Notes: Helena presumably was born in Prussia/Poland as well, likely in the vicinity of Benjamin 2, wherever that might have been. At every stage of the family’s travels, from Prussia to Volhynia (first Zofyovka, then Ostrowka) to Molotschna (Waldheim) and then back to Volhynia (Heinrichsdorf), Helena is listed alongside Benjamin 2, so we assume that she also spent her final years in Waldheim and is probably buried there.

GM 2: Benjamin Buller 2, 402138

Having said everything we can about Benjamin Buller 1, this post moves to the next generation, to his son Benjamin Buller 2.

This Benjamin Buller has a GRANDMA entry, although the entry needs some work. As remarkable of a resource as GM is, it is only as good as the information supplied to it, and one goal of this series is to collect for each family member all the accurate information that we can, so that GM may update its entries if it so chooses. So, can you spot the obvious error in GM’s Benjamin 2 entry?

Sources: The key sources of information about Benjamin 2 include the following (some titles abbreviated):

1. Register of Mennonites in Rovno Region, Volhynia, 1819–1820


2. List of Mennonites Wishing to Leave Volhynia, 1833


3. Mennonites Who Transferred from Volhynia to Waldheim and Assigned Land in 1839


4. List of Mennonitesin Waldheim Who Planted Potatoes and Flax in Spring 1839


5. List of Mennonites Moving from Waldheim back to Volhynia


6. The 1850 Census of Heinrichsdorf, Volhynia


7. Heinrichsdorf church book

Birth: Our information agrees with GM that Benjamin 2 was born in 1789. The clearest evidence for this birth year is the Heinrichsdorf church book (link 7 above; p. 60 available here), which does not give a month or date of birth for Benjamin 2 but does list the year 1789 (see also here).

Two additional pieces of evidence support the church book date. (1) Benjamin 2 is listed on the Register of Mennonites in Rovno Region, Volhynia, 1819–1820 (link 1), and there his age is listed as thirty-one. If, as I suspect, the census was taken in 1820, then his year of birth could be calculated as 1789. (2) Benjamin 2 also appears on the 1850 Heinrichsdorf census (link 6), where his age as given as sixty-one, which again points to a birth year of 1789. With three independent pieces of evidence all agreeing, we can consider Benjamin 2’s year of birth certain.

Family, Spouse: GM knows as much as we do, that Benjamin’s wife was named Helena; her maiden name remains a mystery. Our sources for Helena’s name are the same as for Benjamin’s year of birth. The Heinrichsdorf church book (p. 61 here) states that Benjamin’s wife was named Helena but does not record a maiden name (unlike many other entries in the book). Likewise, the 1820 Rovno census lists her name as Helena (Elena; see here for a scan of the original), as does the 1850 Heinrichsdorf census. There is no doubt as to the name of Benjamin’s wife, although her exact identity is unknown.

Family, Children: Finally we reach the obvious error. GM knows of only one child; we are aware of at least four. Given the year of birth listed, it appears that GM has the correct Heinrich identified, but sons Benjamin 3, David, and Peter should also be listed. In fact, the listings should be:

1. Buller, Benjamin, about 1816
2. Buller David, 25 January 1818, GM 11303
3. Buller, Heinrich, 11 September 1823, GM 402140
4. Buller, Peter, 23 September 1832, GM 402150

It is tempting to add at least one daughter to the children, since we are told that David Buller had a sister who married into the Johann Ratzlaff family (see here). In addition, the 1833 document linked below implies strongly that Benjamin and Helena had multiple daughters, perhaps as many as five. Still, until we are able to identify these daughters, we should not add any information to Benjamin’s list of children.

Father and mother: We know that Benjamin 2’s father was also named Benjamin. If the latter is added to GM, then Benjamin should be linked to him. We have no information on Benjamin 2’s mother.

Notes: GM obviously cannot list every bit of information known about a person, but we can, and we will as often as is practical. We will also link to original sources so that those who wish can check the evidence for themselves.

1. Benjamin 2 presumably was born and lived in Poland/Prussia for his first twenty-eight years; the 1820 Rovno register (link 1 above) states that in 1817 Benjamin and family emigrated from Prussia to the village of Zofyovka in the Rovno region of Volhynia. In 1820 the family included Benjamin, his wife Helena, their two oldest sons Benjamin and David, and a nephew also named David.

2. According to the list of Mennonites who wished to move to Molotschna colony (link 2), by 1833 Benjamin and family were in Ostrowka, a Volhynian village of uncertain location. The family included five males and six females. The five males were Benjamin 2, Benjamin 3, David, Heinrich, and Peter (i.e., father and four sons). The six females included Helena and five daughters and/or other female relatives. The presence of this many females almost certainly indicates that Benjamin 2 and Helena had multiple daughters.

3. Benjamin and family arrived in the Molotschna village of Waldheim in time to qualify him for the 1839 land allotment (link 3). As a result, Benjamin 2 was one of only forty landowners in the village. Benjamin planted potatoes and flax in the spring of 1839 (link 4); he may have planted field crops the same year, but we have no record of him doing so.

4. Benjamin was part of a group who decided to leave Waldheim and return to Volhynia (link 5). The 1845 document recording this decision indicates that the part of the family returning included five males (Benjamin 2, David, David’s son Peter, Heinrich, and Peter) and five females (Helena, David’s wife Helena and their daughters Helena and Elisabeth, and Heinrich’s wife Anna). Son Benjamin 3 and his family remained in Waldheim. The five daughters/female relatives who were with the family in 1833 were presumably married and with their own families or deceased.

5. Benjamin 2 next appears on the 1850 Heinrichsdorf census (link 6), which implies that he was one of the original founders of Heinrichsdorf. The family included all those counted on the 1845 list plus two additional children of Heinrich.

6. Benjamin was still in Heinrichsdrof when the church book was begun in 1858 (link 7). How long he remained there we cannot say, but since there is no record of his death at Heinrichsdorf, it seems likely that he returned to Waldheim with one of his sons in the early 1860s.

***

In sum, the GM entry for Benjamin 2 should list at least four sons. If we are ever able to identify Benjamin’s daughters, they should be added as well. Of all the sources that one could list, the most important are the Heinrichsdorf church book (date of birth) and the 1845 list of Waldheim residents returning to Volhynia and the 1850 Heinrichsdorf census (names of sons).

Next up, Benjamin 2’s wife Helena.

GM 1: Benjamin Buller 1

Our GRANDMA-oriented series begins with our earliest known ancestor, Grandpa Chris’s great-great-grandfather: Benjamin Buller 1.

The graphic below represents Benjamin 1’s entry in GM.

The entry is blank because Benjamin 1 is not included in the database, probably with good reason: we have no direct evidence of any aspect of his life.

Name: The only evidence we have for Benjamin 1’s identity is his son’s full name. That is, the 1839 list of Mennonites who transferred from Volhynia to Waldheim in Molotschna colony identified the person we know as Benjamin 2 (above) as Benjamin Benjamin Buller (see here). This signals that Benjamin 2’s father was also named Benjamin. It is on this basis that we posit his existence and his name.

Birth: We can guess an approximate date of birth, but this is nothing more than a hypothesis. Note first that Benjamin 2 named his firstborn son Benjamin as well. If Benjamin 2’s father did the same (reasonable but by no means certain), then we might imagine that Benjamin 1 was born around 1765. The logic and math are simple: if Benjamin 2 was Benjamin 1’s firstborn son, and if Benjamin 2 was born when his father was in his early to mid-twenties, then one can subtract twenty to twenty-five years from Benjamin 2’s birth year (1789) to get Benjamin 1’s birth year: 1764–1769, rounded to approximately 1765 for the sake of simplicity.

Location: The evidence for Benjamin 1’s location is even sketchier. We can suggest that Benjamin 1 lived in Poland/Prussia, based on the census statement that his son Benjamin 2 “left the Kingdom of Prussia” and moved to Volhynia (see the Register of Mennonites in Rovno Region, Volhynia, 1819–1820). This is not proof per se, but it seems reasonable to think that twenty-eight-year-old Benjamin 2 lived in the vicinity of his family before emigrating to Volhynia.

As to  the specific part of Poland in which Benjamin lived (he lived before the partitions of Poland led to the area becoming part of Prussia), the Schwetz (Przechowka) area seems most likely. That is the one area in which our Bullers seemed most heavily congregated. It is possible the family lived in the Neumark area, since Jeziorka and Przechowka Mennonites moved there in 1765, but there is no mention of a Benjamin Buller in any of the Neumark records (see the May and June 2016 blog posts on Franztal, Brenkenhoffswalde, and Neumark).

We should not forget that there is no known listing of Benjamin 1 or his family in the Przechowka church book. So, although we are probably safe to locate Benjamin in the Schwetz area, we should not imagine him as part of that particular church. He was Mennonite, to be sure, but apparently not a member of that Mennonite church.

In the end, all we can say about Benjamin 1 with any certainty is that his name was Benjamin and that he fathered a son named Benjamin in the late 1780s. That is probably not enough for a listing in the GRANDMA databse, but perhaps it actually is. (This GM series is intended to lead to additions and corrections to GRANDMA, that is all up to the database’s managers.)

GM 0: introduction

As promised in the last post, we are about to progress systematically through our entire family, one member at a time, supplying all the information we can about each person and connecting as many dots as we we are able between family members.

We will adopt and adapt the GRANDMA format for the task (indicated by the abbreviation GM in the post title), drawing from, correcting as needed, and supplementing the information found there. Because we will be working so closely with the GM format and information, a brief introduction to the typical format will be helpful. Grandpa Chris’s GM entry serves as a good example.

1. At the upper left of an entry one finds the given name of the person and an assigned GM number, in this case Cornelius P. Buller, 278506. The number is a convenient and accurate way to identify a specific individual, which is an important consideration when one has multiple people sharing the same name, often even to the level of the middle initial.

2. After the name and GM number one finds listed a standard group of facts about the person’s life, information relating to birth, baptism, immigration, death, and burial. When information is unknown, GM generally omits that category from the entry.

3. Then follows information about the person’s spouse(s) and children. Multiple marriages, of which there are many, are usually listed in chronological order, as Grandpa Chris’s to Grandma Malinda and Goldie are above. Children are, of course, listed under their respective parents in order of birth.

4. The next set of family relations listed is the person’s father and mother, along with their dates of birth and GM numbers.

5. The final category, Notes, provides documentation for the information included above (sources are often lacking) and additional details. For example, GM cites the Henderson Bethesda church book as the source of the information that Grandpa Chris was baptized (vol. 2, page 392) and married (2:452) by Johann F. Epp; we even learn that the biblical text on which the wedding sermon was based was 1 Kor 13.11: “Da ich ein Kind war, da redete ich wie ein Kind und war klug wie ein Kind und hatte kindische Anschläge; da ich aber ein Mann ward, tat ich ab, was kindisch war” (Luther 1912).

The GM entries vary to accommodate the information (or lack thereof) for each person, but the same general format is used throughout. With that background, we are ready to begin the GM series with our earliest known ancestor, Benjamin Buller 1.

Buller family chart

Given the vast amount of new and frequently confusing material that we have covered these past few months, a time of recap and review would seem in order. There is still additional territory and further records that we plan to examine, but for now we will take a break to make sure we are clear on all the players, so to speak, before we delve into their lives in greater detail.

The chart below will be our guide, since it is the foundation of what we know about our family. We will talk about other Bullers, of course, but always in relation to where they fit within the following Buller family chart.

We will examine each of these individuals (and more) in turn. The goal of this post is to review the historical and geographical contexts as well the relationships among family members, especially in light of the confusion created by multiple people bearing the same first name.

Benjamin Buller 1 (the 1 is our shorthand designation, nothing official) was born sometime during the eighteenth century (1700s), probably in the Schwetz (or Przechowka) area of Poland.

Benjamin 2, his son, was born in 1789 and together with wife Helena and two children emigrated to Volhynia in 1817. In 1839 Benjamin and family emigrated south to Waldheim in Molotschna colony, then in 1848 or 1849 moved back north to Heinrichsdorf in Volhynia.

We know of four sons born to Benjamin 2 and Helena: Benjamin 3, our ancestor David, Heinrich, and Peter. Benjamin 3 remained in Waldheim, but the other three sons and their families returned to Volhynia with their parents. Over the course of the next twelve or so years, all these Buller families retraced their steps and moved back to Waldheim, first David, then Heinrich, then Peter.

The repetition of names—when one adds in next generation, we have multiple Benjamins, Helenas, Heinrichs, Marias, and Peters—can create confusion, but the chart above should help clarify. Since we know little about the first two Benjamins (for now), most of our focus will be on the families of Benjamin 2 and Helena’s four sons. Being clear about the relationship between those brothers will go a long way toward keeping all the family relations clear.

In addition to presenting what we know, the chart above also hints toward what we might reasonably suspect.

1. Benjamin 2 was probably not the only child of Benjamin 1 and his wife; presumably Benjamin 2 had other siblings, possibly both sisters and brothers, perhaps some we have already encountered but not yet identified as members of the Benjamin 1 line. We should continue to watch for any additional members of this family line.

2. The listing of four sons for Benjamin 2 and Helena should not be taken to signify that these were the only children born. In fact, the gaps between the births of David and Heinrich (1818–1823) and those of Heinrich and Peter (1823–1823) probably were not years of no births but rather times when daughters were born, daughters who were now married and thus recorded with their husbands rather than their parents. We will certainly want to revisit some of the earlier Volhynian records to see if our theory finds support there, and we will constantly be on the lookout for mention of sisters of David B (or paternal aunts of his son Peter D).

Using the chart above as our starting point, we will work systematically through the entire family, one member at a time, until we have filled in all the information we can about each person and connected all the dots we can between family members. We will adopt and adapt the GRANDMA entries for the task, both drawing from, correcting when necessary, and supplementing the information found there. When we are finished, we should have a much more defined and definitive picture of our early family history.

Breaking prairie

Securing land was only the first step in a long process of establishing a farm. This was virgin prairie that had never before been tilled, nothing but grassland from one end to the other. After Peter D and Sarah purchased their 80 acres, they had to prepare the ground for the planting of crops. They, like all other early settlers, had to “break prairie.”

Sources describing what this involved are varied and stretch across several decades and geographical locations, from Illinois to Nebraska. In spite of differences in details revealed in specific places and times, the goal and general process of breaking prairie remained the same. These contemporary accounts provide us a window on the demands and challenges presented by those who attempted to turn uncultivated prairie into fertile farmland. We begin with a brief letter to the editor of The Prairie Farmer that appeared in the June 1844 issue of the magazine (4:139):

Note the oxen breaking prairie in the left foreground.

EARLY PRAIRIE BREAKING.

To the Editors of the Prairie Farmer: It being near the time of breaking prairie and willing that my experience so far as it goes may be of benefit to those about to enter our Prairie State [Illinois] as cultivators of the soil as well as all others, I give you the result thereof. In May, 1840, I had a few acres of prairie broke, and afterwards about the 1st of August, I had the balance of the field broken. I planted corn on the part broke in May which was about as good a crop as usual. I sowed the whole to wheat, in the fall rather late, say about the 1st of October, using the harrow to put it in. Next season the crop on that broke in May was middling while that on the late breaking was not worth harvesting. I have raised a crop on this land every year since. The early breaking invariably fetching a good crop and the late not more than half a one, last spring. I planted corn on both, the crop on the late breaking was an entire failure owing to the extreme drought of the season, while that on the early breaking was excellent.

Again last May, 1843, about the 20th, I had some prairie broke four inches deep, and about the middle of June some more broken about two and half inches deep, I sowed wheat on the deep and shallow breaking about the 1st of September, putting it in with the harrow. The wheat on both looked equally well during the fall and early part of winter. This spring the shallow breaking looks the best, the cause I conjecture, being that the shallow breaking was much torn up by the harrow, and thus affording a chance for the wheat to take a deeper root, while the sod on the deep breaking was totally unmoved by the harrow, although the seed seemed to be perfectly covered. I have cross plowed some of this last breaking to put a crop in this spring, that is, some of that part that was broken four inches deep, and find that the grass roots are nearly as well rotted as that broken in August, 1840, some of which I have also plowed this spring. I shall leave your readers to make their own inferences. Observer. 

Two points are worthy of particular note in “Observer’s” account: (1) when one broke prairie was significant and often affected the yield of especially the first crop; (2) the depth at which one plowed was also important; the deep plowing familiar to most eastern farmers of that period was not necessarily effective with virgin prairie.

A second account comes from eight years later (1852) and a little farther west, Keokuk, Iowa. In this longer description W. G. Edmundson sought to correct certain misconceptions about breaking prairie. The article appeared in the February 1852 issue of The Cultivator (9:67):

Many false impressions have gone forth among the eastern farmers, in regard to the expense of breaking a prairie sod; and to those who may contemplate removing to a prairie country, a few facts exemplifying the method of executing this work, and its average cost, when done by contract, might be found interesting. It is a very common practice throughout the entire western prairie country, to get the sod broken by contract, at a given price per acre, which ranges from S1.50 to $2.50 according to the character of the work, and the local influences governing the value of labor. The plow mostly used in breaking sod, turns a furrow two feet wide, and in some cases as high as thirty inches are turned, but the average may be rated at eighteen inches, requiring three yoke of oxen to do the work with ease. From two to three acres per day are plowed with an ox team, requiring one man to hold the plow, and another to drive. Tolerably good wages are made, at an average of two dollars per acre; and when all things are considered it cannot be said that it costs more to break up a prairie sod, than to plow an old meadow in one of the eastern or northern states. From two and a half to three inches, is the usual depth that the soil is broken, and the thinner it is plowed the better, so long as the vitality of the roots of the grass is destroyed. Advocates of deep plowing would not find their theory to work well, in breaking up prairie, from the fact that the thinner it is plowed the sooner will the roots of the grass undergo decomposition. When once broken, the case becomes altered. So soon as the first crop is harvested, deep plowing is no where productive of more favorable influence than on a rich, vegetable prairie soil, recently brought into cultivation.

In breaking prairie sod for corn, the work is sometimes done late in autumn, but more frequently it is performed in the spring, and the corn is planted immediately upon the inverted sod, in rows along the interstices of every alternate furrow. A small hole is cut in the sod with an old axe, or a grubbing hoe, in which the seed is deposited, and covered; and the crop from that time forward, receives no cultivation, or attention, till it is matured, ready for harvest. The average yield by this management, ranges from twenty to fifty bushels per acre; and about thirty-five bushels may be a fairly computed product, when the work is done in good season, and in a creditable manner. The extreme toughness of the unrotted sod, precludes the possibility of working the crop, and indeed nature herself wisely provides for the extermination of the wild grasses and plants, that so profusely spread over the prairie surface, requiring only on the part of the husbandman, a single plowing, by which the soil becomes divested of every species of herbage except such as may be planted by the hand of man. …

The best month in the year for breaking prairie is June, and when it is intended to sow the land with wheat, it is advisable to have the work executed at as early a period as this month, so that the sod may obtain a perfect rot before the period for seeding. In some cases the land is plowed a second time, and some prefer doing it crosswise of the furrow, and others lengthwise; but it is universally conceded that if the rot be perfect, so that a heavy harrow will completely pulverize it, the second plowing will not contribute in increasing the product of the wheat crop, and, therefore, only one plowing is usually given. …

In Illinois and Iowa, and Upper Missouri, the finest and most perfect plows are in use, and indeed some of the patterns could scarcely be improved, either in lessening the draft, or rendering the work more easy for the plowman. The strength of this conviction became increased by repeated practical trials, and after giving the matter a full and impartial investigation, we became convinced that a prairie sod had no equal as a test, to put to trial the skill of a scientific plowman; and that some of the most improved steel mould-board plows were so perfectly adapted to the character of the work, that any further attempt at improvement would be abortive. The best plows are suspended on two wheels, supported by an axle near the end of the beam. The wheels are twelve inches broad on the surface, the one following in the furrow guides the width of the furrow slice, and the one on the sod acts as a roller to break and smooth down the prairie grass. By the aid of a lever the wheels are hoisted up, so as to expedite the turning of the plow at the head lands, and the only thing the plowman has to do, is to set the plow at the turnings, as the wheels guide it quite as perfectly as could be done by the most experienced plowman.

A 1902 account by L. S. Coffin is accompanied by a drawing of a breaking plow from the 1850s; one would think that it corresponded in general design to those used in Peter D and Sarah’s time.

All attempts to present a word picture of it [a prairie breaking plow] must fail to give any person who has never seen one a true idea of the real thing. These plows, as a rule, were very large. They were made to cut and turn a furrow from twenty to thirty inches wide and sometimes even wider. The beam was a straight stick of strong timber seven to twelve feet long. The forward end of this beam was carried by a pair of trucks or wheels, and into the top of the axle of these wheels were framed two stout, upright pieces just far enough apart to allow the forward end of the plow-beam to nicely fit in between them. To the forward end of the beam and on top of it, there was fastened by a link or clevis, a long lever, running between these stout standards in the axle of the trucks, and fastened to them by a strong bolt running through both standards and lever; this bolt, acting as a fulcrum for the lever, was in easy reach of the man having charge of the plow. By raising or depressing the rear end of this lever the depth of the furrow was gauged, and by depressing the lever low enough, the plow could be thrown entirely out of the ground. One of the wheels of the truck ran in the furrow and was from two to four inches larger than the one that ran on the sod. This, of course, was necessary so as to have an even level rest for the forward end of the plow-beam. The mould-boards of these plows were sometimes made of wood protected by narrow strips of steel or band-iron, and fastened to the mould-board. In some cases these mould-boards were made entirely of iron rods, which generally gave the best satisfaction. The share of these plows—“shear,” as we western folks called it—had to be made of the very best steel so as to carry a keen edge. The original prairie sod was one web of small tough roots, and hence the necessity of a razor- like edge on the “shear” to secure good work and ease to the team.

And next, the “prairie-breaking” plow team? Who sees the like of it today? A string of from three to six yokes of oxen hitched to this long plow-beam, the driver clad in somewhat of a cowboy style, and armed with a whip, the handle of which resembled a long, slender fishing-rod, with a lash that when wielded by an expert was so severe that the oxen had learned to fear it as much as the New England oxen did the Yankee ox-goad with its brad.

The season for “breaking prairie” varied as the spring and summer were early or late, wet or dry. The best results were had by beginning to plow after the grass had a pretty good start, and quitting the work some time before it was ready for the scythe. The main object aimed at was to secure as complete a rotting of the sod as possible. To this end the plow was gauged to cut only one and one-half to two inches deep. Then, if the mould-board was so shaped as to “kink” the sod as it was turned over, all the better, as in the early days of “prairie-breaking” very little use was made of the ground the first year. The object was to have the land in as good a shape as possible for sowing wheat the following spring. A dry season, thin breaking, “kinky” furrows, and not too long breaking accomplished this, and made the putting in of wheat the following spring an easy task. But on the contrary, if broken too deeply, and the furrows laid flat and smooth, or in a wet season, or if broken too late, the job of seeding the wheat on tough sod was a hard and slow one. …

Three yokes of good-sized oxen drawing a 24-inch plow, with two men to manage the work, would ordinarily break about two acres a day; five yokes with a 36-inch plow, requiring no more men to “run the machine,” would break three acres a day. When the plow was kept running continuously, the “shear” had to be taken to the blacksmith as often as once a week to be drawn out thin, so that a keen knife-edge could be easily put on it with a file, by the men who managed the plow. If the team was going around an 80-acre tract of prairie, the “lay" or "shear” had to be filed after each round to do the best work. The skillful “breaker” tried to run his plow one and one-half inches deep and no deeper. This was for the purpose of splitting the sod across the mass of tough fibrous roots, which had lain undisturbed for uncounted years and had formed a network of interlaced sinews as difficult to cut as india rubber, where the prairie was inclined to be wet; and it was not easy to find an entire 80-acre tract that was not intersected with numerous “sloughs,” across which the breaking-plow had to run. In many places the sod in these “sloughs” was so tough that it was with the greatest difficulty that the plow could be kept in the ground. If it ran out of the ground, this tough, leathery sod would flop back into the furrow as swiftly as the falling of a row of bricks set up on end, and the man and driver had to turn the long ribbon of tough sod over by hand—if they could not make a “balk.” In the flat, wet prairie, it sometimes took from two to three years for the tough sod to decompose sufficiently to produce a full crop. The plow had to be kept in perfect order to turn this kind of prairie sod over, and the "lay" had to have an edge as keen as a scythe to do good work. …

In some cases the “newcomers” would consent to have a portion of their prairie farms broken up in April, and on this early breaking they would plant “sod corn.” The process was simple; a man with an axe would follow the line of every second or third furrow, strike the blade deep in the ground, a boy or girl would follow and drop three or four kernels of corn into the hole and bring one foot down “right smart” on the hole in the sod, and the deed was done. No cultivation was required after planting, and in the fall a half crop of corn was frequently gathered without expense. Those who were not able to get breaking done at the best time for subduing the sod, were often glad to have some done in the latter part of July or the first half of August. So for several years the “breaking brigades” were able to run their teams for four months each year, and it was profitable business.

Another lengthy account is from a history of Seward County written in the early twentieth century (Waterman 1920, 45–47):

One of the important matters for consideration after a homesteader had located a home on the prairie was to break a few acres of sod and prepare to raise something to “keep the wolf from the door” when he got a door, and frequently the breaking plow was started before there was anything like a dwelling place provided; the family living in a tent or prairie schooner while the breaking season lasted—generally during the months of May and June. In those days everybody wanted breaking done, thousands of acres of prairie being turned over in Seward County and made into crop producing condition almost similtaneously [sic] with the rush of emigration to the county the first two years of the seventies [1870s]. But prairie breaking was no child’s play. While it is called and supposed to be plowing it is vastly different from all other kinds of plowing. The earth under prairie sod is solid and hard. The grass roots run deep and are so compact as to form almost a solid mass of very tough, woody fiber, requiring a sharp edged underground cutter running under sufficiently to cut the roots from two to three inches below the surface and not any lower. This requires a skillfully adjusted plow or it will not run and do the part required of it any more than an illadjusted clock or watch. It only requires a very small amount of improper fixing to put it in such a condition that forty ellephants [sic] could not pull it if it remains in the ground and forty more ellephants [sic] could not hold it in the ground if it wanted to come out. If the sharp edge is properly adjusted to run squarely under the sod—is not turned up nor down—it will run very nicely without a hand to guide it. After the breaker is in proper condition for work, the next requirements are, first a good, strong team to draw it, a file to keep the underground shear sharp, a hammer and an iron wedge, axe or other solid utensil to keep the edge of the shear bent in proper shape, and lastly a man, who knows how, to run it. After these requirements have been supplied the work may progress under many difficulties.

The prairie breaking period in Seward County extended from the time of its earliest settlemnt [sic] in 1860 to the close of the pioneer period, or about 1890, and during that most eventful time in the settlement of Nebraska there were many different methods brought forward in an eanest [sic] desire to facilitate the work of prairie breaking and lighten its burdens. … But it was all cut short by the running out of prairie sod, and that important early building material came to such a sudden scarcity that there was not enough good sod in Seward County to build an ordinary sod house.

In the first place the old fashioned steel moldboard was used, but many plowmen thought the suction on the long steel surface caused the plow to run very heavy, and the rod moldboard breaking plow was, invented and exensively [sic] used. Then a plow with a moldboard made with small rollers which were expected to roll under the sod and turn it over was introduced. But this was not a success as it was soon discovered that the fine sand worked into the roller bearings and cut them off. Still another invention to make the work lighther [sic] for the horses, mules and cattle, was the box breaking plow. It was made in the shape of a box without a cover. This box was made of sheet steel, the bottom being thin and sharp ran under the sod on a level and cut the roots by a direct contact with them while the sides with sharp edges cut the sod from the top down to the bottom of the furrow, the sod being turned by the rod moldboard. This plow was pronounced a success by many who used them.

The motive power in front of the breaking plows in the breaking period was the main object for consideration, but notwithstanding the heavy tug of it, the work went on steaidly [sic] until it was finished. A majority of the settlers did their breaking with only two horses while others used three or four. Occaionally [sic] three or four yokes of cattle would be seen drawing a large breaker, the furrow being so wide it would appear like wide top tables turning over. Those large ox breakers were so constructed as not to require guiding, the management of the cattle and keeping the plow sharp and in order being the principal part of the manual labor attached to the business.

Our final account is a contemporary one, from the April 1874 issue of American Agriculturist, where J. H. B. of Hastings, Nebraska, writes:

The common way of breaking prairie sod renders it necessary to plant a crop of sod corn or let the sod lie fallow until it rots, when it may be cross plowed. It is best to follow the custom of the country in this respect, especially for new beginners and those from England, where everything is so different from things here. By using two plows, one following the other, in the same furrow, the sod may be covered with mellow soil, but it is doubtful, even then, if clover or mangels would thrive the first year. The sod requires reclaiming by a process of rotting or decomposition before it is available as food for plants. We would advise you to keep the seed until next year, when you will have this year’s breaking to replow, and break all you can this spring, so as to have as large a crop of corn as possible, which will doubtless be found useful.

In the end, we do not know precisely how Peter D and Sarah broke prairie, but at least we know that they must have done so, and we have a better sense of what was involved.

• They may have broken prairie on their own with a team of horses, but it is more likely that they hired a prairie-breaking crew to perform the labor.


• The cost of hiring a crew to break their prairie was significant in comparison to the cost of the land itself. If they purchased land for $5 an acre (a typical price for central Nebraska during that time), they probably paid another $2.50 an acre (at least) to have the prairie sod broken.


• At the usual pace of two acres a day, it would have taken forty days and at least $200 for the entire farm to be made ready for cultivation. In light of this, it seems most likely that the prairie breaking stretched over several years, which brings into sharper focus the railroad’s sale terms of price reduction of 20 percent if half the farm was under cultivation within two years.


•  Peter D and Sarah may have planted sod corn immediately after breaking prairie, or they may have waited until the following year, after the sod had decomposed sufficiently, then plowed again and planted corn or wheat (or both). 

One thing is clear in all this: turning virgin prairie into fertile farmland was no easy task; it required substantial amounts of time, effort, and investment. Knowing the challenges that our ancestors faced and overcame can only deepen our admiration of and appreciation for them.

Works Cited

J. H. B. 1874. Breaking Prairie. American Agriculturist. 33:127. Available online here.

Coffin, L. S. 1902. Breaking Prairie. The Annals of Iowa. 5:447–58. Available online here.

Early Prairie Breaking. 1944. The Prairie Farmer. 4:139. Available online here.

Edmundson, W. G. 1852. Prairie Farming—Breaking the Sod. The Cultivator. 9:67. Available online here.

Waterman, John Henry. 1920. General History of Seward County, Nebraska. Rev. ed. Beaver Crossing, NE: n.p. Available online here.