Tenancy Terms

A little more than six months ago we examined a document that listed the names of a number of Mennonites who wished to leave Volhynia and to settle in Molotschna (see here for the blog post; see here for Glenn Penner’s translation of the document). The previous post mentioned that document in passing, since the time of the list (1833) was reasonably close to Johann Cornies’s comments about the superiority of colonist life over tenancy.

The mere fact that so many Volhynian Mennonite tenants sought to move to Molotschna in 1833 and were willing to make formal application to do so (the purpose of the list) is clear evidence that Cornies was not the only one to regard tenancy as an inferior, more tenuous existence. However, that is not all that we should say about the list. In retrospect, our earlier understanding of several statements on the list may have been mistaken or perhaps imprecise.

The first nineteen names on the list (out of a total of thirty-nine names) were residents of Ostrowka, or Ostrog, a village located in the lower center of Volhynia. All nineteen lived on the estate of  Michael Bischkowsky in the Lutzki region in the colony Ostrowka.

The nineteen names are divided into two groups as follows:

	First and Last Name	Male	Female	Total	Comments
1	Benjamin Wedel	2	2	4	Schaefer (shepherd)
2	Heinrich Wedel	2	7	9	Uhrmacher (clock maker)
3	Johann Wedel	2	1	3	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
4	Cornelius Wedel	4	3	7	Drechsler (wood lathe operator)
5	Heinrich Dirks	4	3	7	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
6	Michael Teske	6	4	10	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
7	David Dirks	1	2	3	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
8	David Nachtigal	6	3	9	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
9	George Nachtigal	4	5	9	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)

These above-mentioned nine families have enjoyed their free years and, since 1818, have paid the royal contributions.

10	Benjamin Buller	5	6	11	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
11	David Koehn	1	3	4	Stellmacher (wheelwright/ wagon maker)
12	Peter Schmidt	2	6	8	Leinweber (linen weaver)
13	Peter Becker	4	3	7	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
14	Benjamin Ratzlaff	4	3	7	Leinweber (linen weaver)
15	Cornelius Balzer	1	2	3	Leinweber (linen weaver)
16	Johann Werbel	1	2	3	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
17	Jacob Pankratz	4	7	11	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
18	Friedrich Kunkel	1	3	4	Landwirth (landowner/farmer)
19	Jacob Wedel	3	5	8	Leinweber (linen weaver)

The above ten families still enjoy the free years.

We observed in the original post and then in even greater detail (here) that there is a clear difference between the two groups: in 1833 the latter ten still enjoyed their free years, while the first nine had to pay the “royal contributions.”

Earlier we concluded (1) that the royal contribution was a tax and (2) that the difference between the two groups (group 1 no longer enjoying free years; group 2 still enjoying free years) indicated that the first nine families must have signed the lease with Michael Bischkowsky some years before the latter ten did. Both conclusions may need to be clarified somewhat in light of Johann Cornies’s comments about the superiority of the colonist life to that of tenants.

First, although we do not know exactly what the royal contribution was, we should not assume that it was a tax paid to the government. As Cornies reminds us, these Mennonite tenants were obligated to the noble on whose land they lived, not the crown per se. Of course, royal officials exercised ultimate control over the realm, but the tenants’ most immediate and direct obligation was to their lord. Thus, the royal contribution was likely paid to the noble, even if he passed it on to the government.

Second and more important, Cornies’s words remind us that nobles could negotiate whatever terms they wanted. Stated differently, it seems likely that nobles offered different terms to different tenants: more appealing terms when the noble was in need of settlers, less appealing terms when the need for tenants was not so acute. What this means for the two groups of Ostrog settlers named above is that the difference between the two groups may have been more a matter of the tenancy terms than when each group settled. The first group may have run out of free years because of the terms of their tenant contract, not necessarily because they had lived on the estate longer than the second group.

Much about the Ostrog situation remains unknown, but one thing is certain: Cornies was completely correct in his opinion that it was far better to live as a colonist on crown land (land originally owned by the crown but deeded to colonists) than as a tenant on some noble’s estate. The actions of our own ancestor Benjamin Buller (number 10 on the list) proves the case.

Of course, this raises yet another perplexing question: Why did Benjamin and family move back to Volhynia (to the village Heinrichsdorf) after he had become a Molotschna colonist (landowner) in 1839?

Johann Cornies Papers: Relevance

The last two posts (here and here) focused on two letters found in the papers of Johann Cornies: one written to Cornies by a Russian governmental official named Andrei Fadeev, the other written by Cornies to a fellow Mennonite named Johann Wiebe. The letters reminded us of a number of significant points.

1. In Fadeev’s telling, the Privilegium that the Russian crown promised Mennonites included four key elements. Specifically, Mennonites

•   were liable only for insignificant taxes, apparently not what the nobility paid.
•   enjoyed the right to include the proceeds from liquor sales in the community treasury.
•   received larger land allotments than those granted to other foreign settlers.
•   were exempt from military impositions, billeting, and military marches through Mennonite villages.

2. These royal privileges, Cornies points out, were available only to colonists, that is, Mennonites who settled on crown land (e.g., the residents of Molotschna colony); those living on the land of nobles, whom he labels free settlers, had no claim on them.


3. In fact, free settlers had no guaranteed rights; they enjoyed only those rights and privileges that they could negotiate with their landlords. Other realities further limited their options.

•   A noble might grant rights to a settler little by little or not at all.
•   The contract between a noble and a settler could not exceed twenty years.
•   After a contract expired, the settler had to leave the noble’s estate and find somewhere new to live.
•   A Mennonite settler was not guaranteed a place on crown land such as Molotschna colony.

4. Given the significant disparity in rights enjoyed and guaranteed, Cornies regarded the situation of the colonist on royal land to be far superior to that of the free settler on a noble’s estate.

Why is all this important to our family? As mentioned in the last post, Cornies cited as examples of free settlers the Mennonites in villages such as Michalin, Ostrog, and Dubno—villages in Volhynia, where our ancestor Benjamin Buller lived before he moved to Molotschna. According to Cornies, the Mennonites in Molotschna were far better off than those living in these Volhynian villages.

Earlier posts on the Bullers in Volhynia discussed the context within which our ancestors emigrated from Prussia to Volhynia and the terms under which they secured the right to live on and work the land owned by the nobility. Those discussions remain informative, but the sharp distinctions drawn by Cornies between a free settler and a colonist settler are particularly instructive.

1. Although it seems that Benjamin Buller and all the other Mennonite settlers in Zofyovka, Volhynia, were given “the rights and privileges conferred on Mennonites in the Emperor’s Privilegium” (here), this was only due to the estate owner’s generosity. These rights were not automatically conferred on them simply by virtue of their emigration to the Russian realm.

Further, those rights were neither guaranteed nor permanent. In all probability, their enjoyment of those rights was subject to the noble’s continued goodwill. What could settlers without clearly grounded legal rights do if he chose to suspend them? Further, the moment they moved from the noble’s estate, they left their special rights behind as well.

2. Earlier we read that the contract with the noble was “ewigen Zeiten,” or forever. However, Cornies states that the longest contract term possible was twenty years. In light of the fact that the Mennonite community did not remain in Zofyovka forever, one suspects the forever nature of the agreement was more symbolic legalese than binding term.

How long the  lease actually lasted remains unknown, but Cornies’s comment helps explain why some Volhynian Mennonites were so frequently on the move: although it was possible for a tenant to remain on an estate for a long period (up to twenty years and perhaps even longer under renewed contracts), the reality seems to have been that tenancy contracts were relatively short and frequently not renewed, which led to a high incidence of migration from one place to another.

3. At some point—we do not know precisely when, but certainly before twenty years had passed—Benjamin Buller and the other Mennonites left Zofyovka, and we next encounter Benjamin in an 1833 record, when he was in Ostrowka, or Ostrog, one of the villages that Cornies mentions (for further discussion of Benjamin in Ostrog, see here).

Several points merit special note. (1) Cornies offered his comment about Ostrog in December 1830; in 1833 Benjamin was among the Mennonites living in Ostrog, and he may have been living there for a number of years. Consequently, Cornies’s comment about Ostrog is directly relevant to Benjamin’s situation. (2) Benjamin is listed as a farmer who was leasing land from yet another noble. Cornies is once again shown to be correct: free settlers such as Benjamin could move from one noble’s estate to another. (3) Finally, Cornies’s opinion about the superiority of life as a colonist living on royal land was shared by the Mennonite tenants of Ostrog. Their names were on the 1833 list because they had registered their wish to “leave Volhynia and settle with their brethren in the Tauridian Governorate,” that is, Molotschna colony, which was in the Taurida district. They, too, recognized that life as a colonist on royal land was far more desirable than scraping out a living as a tenant.

4.  Benjamin did eventually become a colonist in Molotschna colony, but clearly only by special permission. As Cornies explained, free settlers could not move to crown land and thereby automatically enjoy all the rights granted to invited colonists.  Benjamin and the other Ostrog Mennonites had to apply to the ruling authorities not only for permission to move but also to be regarded as a colonist entitled to the rights of the Privilegium.

Thanks to the Cornies papers, our understanding of Benjamin’s situation is much clearer, so much so that we probably need to revisit the earlier posts on Benjamin’s time in Volhynia in order to correct and clarify our earlier suppositions in light of this new information. We should also reconsider Benjamin and family’s later move from Molotschna back to Volhynia (at Heinrichsdorf) and what conditions he may have encountered there.

Before we do so, however, I think we will quickly retrace our steps back to the 1833 list of Ostrog Mennonites, to explore further how Cornies’s comments may shape and sharpen our reading of that document.

Johann Cornies Papers: Free Settlers

The previous post drew upon correspondence from Andrei M. Fadeev, chairman of the Ekaterinoslav Bureau of the Guardianship Committee, to Johann Cornies in order to highlight the key elements of the Privilegium, the grant of rights from the Russian royal house (Catherine the Great and Paul II in particular). An earlier letter from Cornies to fellow Mennonite Johann Wiebe rounds out the picture and, in the process, provides background to our own family’s situation.

Who this Johann Wiebe was is not explored in the Cornies volume, although there are hints that may help us to identify him. The letter was written on 30 December 1830 and sent to Wiebe in the West Prussian (Polish) village of Tiege (22 miles southeast of Gdańsk/Danzig). GAMEO includes several Johann Wiebes, one of whom was born in 1806 (which would make him twenty-four when the letter was written) and who lived in Tiege until 1870 (see also Grandma 507764). We cannot with certainty that this was the recipient of Cornies’s letter, but he is a strong candidate.

Fortunately, we do not need to identify the exact recipient in order to understand the letter. Cornies himself provides the background to it: “You ask if the Duke of Anhalt-Koethen’s settlement in Tavrida is making land available for foreign settlement, and also if that land is on the steppes or in the Dnieper lowlands” (Cornies 2015, 205). As noted previously (here), the Taurida Governorate was the large administrative district within which the Molotschna colony was located (the area below the red line in the map). Wiebe’s question, then, was whether a particular estate within the Taurida district was available for settlement and was located in the lowlands or the steppes.*

Cornies’s reply to Wiebe’s inquiry is enlightening in a number of ways:

In reply, I can say that the Duke has concluded an agreement with the Russian state requiring that a specific number of colonists be settled within ten years. The Dnieper lowlands are not mentioned in the terms of the agreement. The Anhalt-Koethen administrators would naturally like to attract Mennonite settlers, but what rights and privileges could they provide? Their Charter of Privileges offers them no more than what our Privilegium guarantees us. In their own interest, the Anhalt-Koethen administration could decide not to give its settlers all these rights directly, but grant them in stages.

In my opinion, a settler whose rights are confirmed directly by the Crown is always in the best position. Remember that foreigners brought into Russia by estate owners can only conclude twenty-year contracts. They are never considered colonists, but are always strangers who can move about Russia after their contract has ended. They receive no Crown land for settlement, nor are they under the colonial administration. They have the right to live in the empire on leaseholdings. Mennonites at Michalen, Ostrog, Dubno, and other places live under such an arrangement. When I visited St. Petersburg, they authorized me to present their situation to the Ministry and to petition for their inclusion in the colonist estate. This was not granted. It was ruled that they were to remain as free people.

I would not advise anyone to settle as a free man under the authority of a particular lord. Please, dear friend, give my advice to anyone interested in concluding a contract for Anhalt-Koethen land. They must not think that, after their contract has expired, they can move to the Molochnaia if that seems more suitable and hope to be accepted and registered among their brethren-in-faith, with the same advantages and rights. There is a wall of separation here, anchored in law, that cannot and will not be easily breached. (Cornies 2015, 205–6, text 202)

Here Cornies distinguishes between two types of foreign—including Mennonite—settlers: colonists, who lived on crown land with rights granted by the Russian crown; and free people, who lived on the land (estates) of nobles and enjoyed whatever rights the noble granted. Cornies clearly considers the colonist status as superior, for several reasons:

1. A noble was under no obligation to give a settler the rights of the Privilegium and thus could grant them in stages—or presumably not at all.
2. The contract between a noble and a settler could not exceed twenty years, after which a new agreement needed to be concluded if the settler wanted to remain.
3. Although free people could move about the empire, they did so as sojourners, as it were, with no place to call their own and no guarantee of any rights—including the right to remain in the land.
4. Mennonites who were not colonists had no claim to join the Molotschna colony, once their contract with a noble had run its course. 

Cornies offers an interesting and insightful perspective on the different arrangements under which Mennonites lived within Russia. However, he also sheds light on our own family’s situation. To be specific, Cornies notes that the Mennonites living at “ Michalen, Ostrog, Dubno, and other places” (Cornies 2015, 206). Michalin, Ostrog, and Dubno were Mennonite villages in Volhynia, where our ancestor Benjamin Buller and his family (including David, father of Peter D, father of Peter P, father of Grandpa Chris) lived in the early nineteenth century.

The next post will pick up the story here, to explore what relevance Cornies’s comments about a colonist versus a free settler have for our ancestors.

Note
* For further information on the estate, including identification of the duke as Ferdinand Friedrich, a member of the German nobility, see here.


Works Cited

Cornies, Johann. 2015. Transformation on the Southern Ukrainian Steppe: Letters and Papers of Johann Cornies. Volume 1: 1812–1835. Translated by Ingrid I. Epp. Edited by Harvey L. Dyck, Ingrid I. Epp, and John R. Staples. Tsarist and Soviet Mennonite Studies. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.

Thiessen, Richard D. 2011. Wiebe, Johann (1806–1872). Global Anabaptist Mennonite Encyclopedia Online. Available online here.

Johann Cornies Papers: The Privilegium

Blogging has been sparse the past few weeks (apologies!), but reading has continued. As mentioned in the two-part series on well drilling in Molotschna (here and here), the papers of Johann Cornies, the leading member of the Molotschna Mennonite community throughout the first half of the nineteenth century, offer a contemporary perspective of life in that colony.

Although Cornies does not mention any Bullers in volume 1 of the collected papers (which covers 1812–1835), several passages do enable us to understand more accurately the situation of our ancestor Benjamin Buller, father of David.

The first is a letter to Cornies from Andrei M. Fadeev, who was chairman of the Ekaterinoslav Bureau of the Guardianship Committee. The Guardianship Committee (or Guardians’ Committee) was the

agency established by the Russian government in 1818 to succeed other agencies that had been established to supervise the foreign settlements in Russia. It was to supervise the activity of the Russian diplomatic representatives in recruiting colonists in foreign countries, to keep a file of lands available for settlement, and to see to it that the foreigners upon their arrival were properly received and aided until they had been settled. This Bureau had the status of a separate ministry and was responsible to the empress, who appointed its chairman. (Krahn 1959)

Stated simply, Fadeev was the primary Russian official with responsibility for and authority over the Molotschna colony. Fadeev and Cornies enjoyed a close and positive relationship. In fact, John R. Staples writes in the introduction to the Cornies volume that “Fadeev became Cornies’ friend and mentor, helping Cornies to enlarge his economic vision and to navigate the channels of officialdom” (Cornies 2015, xxxvii).

All this is the context in which Fadeev wrote to Cornies in mid-1831 (received 13 July) with regard to a “directive to establish societies for the advancement and dissemination of forest- and orchard-tree cultivation, and of sericulture and viticulture, in the Molochnaia and Khortitsa Mennonite Districts.” The letter begins as follows:

The Mennonite settlements in New Russia attract more government attention than do all other foreign settlements. Morality and a clear conscience should motivate these Mennonites to prove that they are the best inhabitants of this region and carry on the largest number of trades.

The privileges the government has bestowed on the Mennonites justify it in expecting that the Mennonites meet its demands. These advantages give the Mennonites the most favoured position among all Russian inhabitants of the peasant estate, particularly their insignificant taxes, their right to include the proceeds from the beverage trade in the community treasury, their larger land allotments compared to those of other foreign settlers, and finally, the very important exemption from all military impositions, billeting, and temporary military marches through most Mennonite villages, depending on their geographic location.

Mennonite settlers already distinguish themselves from others with their special dedication to several branches of agriculture new to this area, such as breeding and refining cattle, horses, and sheep. Their villages are well arranged and are kept in good condition, as are most of the agricultural establishments in these villages. They pursue a quiet, peaceful way of life and their behaviour is highly regarded. This has earned them the praise of the government and of all visitors to the region.

The Mennonites, however, can accomplish still more by making special efforts to achieve the highest possible level of perfection. This would justify the government's expectations in the fullest measure, and demonstrate that their significant advantages over other settlers have not been given to them in vain.

Mennonite communities in general, and every individual in particular, must henceforth give preferential and continuous attention to the development of orchard- and forest-tree culture. (Cornies 2015, 227–28, text 224)

The letter continues, laying out what Fadeev would like Cornies to do (organize three agricultural societies, for the cultivation of forest and fruit tress, of sericulture [silkworms], and of viticulture), but that is not what interests us at the moment. Rather, our attention is on Fadeev’s delineation of Mennonite rights, what is known as the Mennonite Privilegium.

We have referenced the Privilegium from time to time (use the search function at the upper right to find them all), so we need not repeat those discussions here. We should highlight, however, the four key elements that Fadeev mentions:

• insignificant taxes
• right to include the proceeds from the beverage trade in the community treasury
• larger land allotments compared to those of other foreign settlers
• exemption from all military impositions, billeting, and temporary military marches through most Mennonite villages, depending on their geographic location

These are the rights that Catherine the Great first promised in 1787 and that Tsar Paul I ratified in 1800 and that all Molotschna (and Chortitza) Mennonites enjoyed as a direct grant from Russia’s royal rulers. However, not all Mennonites in Russia were entitled to those rights, as yet another of Cornies’s papers makes clear. That letter will be the subject of the following post.

Works Cited

Cornies, Johann. 2015. Transformation on the Southern Ukrainian Steppe: Letters and Papers of Johann Cornies. Volume 1: 1812–1835. Translated by Ingrid I. Epp. Edited by Harvey L. Dyck, Ingrid I. Epp, and John R. Staples. Tsarist and Soviet Mennonite Studies. Toronto: University of Toronto Press.

Krahn, Cornelius. 1959. Fürsorge-Komitee (Guardians’ Committee). Global Anabaptist Mennonite Encyclopedia Online. Available here.

The blizzards of 1948–1949

A while back Dad mentioned a particularly bad blizzard that had kept the family house-bound for, I believe, several days, after which they had finally made it out to feed their cattle a mile north of the farm. (More on the location of that farm in a subsequent post.)

It seems that the blizzards of late 1948 and especially January 1949 were some of the worst, if not the worst, in Nebraska’s recorded history. York County was significantly impacted by the 2 January 1949 storm; counties in western Nebraska and the northern half of the state had it even worse.

In fact, in an attempt to save cattle on western ranches from starvation, the Air Force sent a number of planes on what was termed Operation Haylift. C-45, C-47, and C-82 cargo planes transported bales of hay and dropped them close to cattle stranded in inaccessible pastures. If I have my story correct, Daniel (eighteen at the time) wanted to help with Operation Haylift, but Grandpa thought better of the idea.

All that is prelude to something discovered while researching the history of this weather event: seven years ago the York News Times published a story about the blizzard in which Matilda was interviewed and had the opportunity to reminisce about it. The article can be read in its entirety here; the portion that is most relevant to Matilda reads as follows:

York resident Matilda Klippenstein remembers the same sort of self-reliance and resilience from Nebraska residents of those days.

Many rural people heated their homes with coal or wood. They raised or made their own meat, milk and butter. They baked their own bread in wood-fired ovens. Most of them, even if they had run electricity into their homes, still had old kerosene lamps and fuel around.

“We could be snowbound and not be hurt all that bad by it,” Matilda says.

A native of rural Lushton, Matilda was married in the last days of 1948. “There was snow then already,” she recalls, “but not like we had later.”

She and her new husband were living temporarily with his parents when the early January blizzard hit. She smiles, her only concession to the stresses of such close quarters under adverse conditions.

Matilda was teaching 15 pupils at the District 80 country schoolhouse [see map to the right], a mile north of Lushton, during this snowy winter. Part of Matilda’s duties included arriving early at the schoolhouse to build a fire in the heating stove.

Fortunately, school was out when the January blizzard descended on Nebraska. Neither Matilda nor her students were in danger of getting lost in the storm.

She recalls enormous drifts smothering the railroad tracks. In those years following World War II, the railroads were still central to transportation in Nebraska and many parts of the United States, moving people, goods, mail, coal and food. Just about every small town was served by regular train routes. As crews today diligently clear snow from highways, during those days they worked to open up the rail lines.

The railroad track is clearly visible in the map, going from the bottom toward the center and then turning to the right (east). It is also easy to spot the Buller farm in the southwest quarter of section 36 (the quarter labeled John Runnalls).

One thing that confuses is the disconnect between the news article, which says that Matilda taught at District 80 a mile north of Lushton, and the earlier information that Matilda taught at a school a mile west of Lushton and that Esther taught at the school a mile north (see here). So which is it? One more piece of family history that we almost know!

Until I saw the York News Times article, I had no idea that Matilda was a schoolteacher. Until I learned more about the Model A, I did not know that Esther was also a schoolteacher. Until a few weeks ago, I had no clue that (at least) one of Grandpa and Grandma’s children had served in the armed forces. (Do you know who?) One wonders how many other family facts are waiting to be rediscovered.

Well drilling in Molotschna 2

With apologies for the long gap between the previous post and this one and the general slow pace of posting to Buller Time the past month, permit me to wrap up our short detour into well drilling in Molotschna colony.

Several aspects of Johann Cornies’s account in the previous post (here) deserve special attention.

1. Cornies reports that he used a ground auger built of wood to drill the wells. In fact, he states that he “invented” or, probably better, built this wooden ground auger. We have all seen an auger before: it has a central pole and a corkscrew. An auger used to drill a hole in the ground probably looked at least something like the modern post-hole digger pictured to the right.

Cornies contrasts his ground auger with a heavy iron one that the government had. It seems most probable that the wooden part of Cornies’s auger was the shaft, not the auger itself. Although it is possible that Cornies constructed both parts out of wood, I cannot imagine a wooden auger lasting long under this type of usage.

We should probably picture the auger shaft not as a single piece but a as series of standard-length pieces that would be added one after another to go deeper and removed as the auger was pulled up.

2. Cornies’s reference to the smaller crew needed to operate his ground auger, as opposed to an iron one, leaves little doubt about the operation of the ground auger: it was not motorized or operated by horse power; rather, it was powered strictly by human labor. One might imagine an auger with two or, more likely, four bars across the top and men walking around and around in a circle to drill the auger deeper into the ground.

3. Cornies provides no evidence about the diameter of the well, and I am unable to find information in other sources that might provide an idea of the average well of that era’s diameter. All we know is that people of that time and place typically lined their wells with wood to keep the sides from caving in. Cornies explains that deep wells required “especially thick planks.” On the basis of this evidence, it seems highly likely that the wells being drilled were more than a foot or two in diameter.

4. The process, we may further imagine, was a matter of drilling the auger down into the ground so that the soil was loosened, then periodically pulling up the shaft and auger so that either (1) the dirt was lifted to the top by the auger and removed or (2) men were let down into the well to place the loose dirt into buckets that were then hoisted to the top and emptied. The latter, of course, would be an option only if the well had a significantly wide diameter.

5. All that remains to discuss is the depths of the wells. Cornies reports that he found water at the following depths:

• Tashchenak: 13 arshins and 9 arshins
• Orta Otluk: 13 arshins, 26 arshins, and 21 archins
• the Ovrakh of the Orta Otluk, at its peak: 33 arshins, 15 arshins, and 41 arshins

According to online sources, a Russian arshin (арши́н) is roughly comparable to what we think of as a yard; to be precise, an arshin is 71.12 centimeters, or 2.3 feet. Knowing this conversion enables us to translate the well depths into terms more familiar to us.

• Tashchenak: 29.9 feet and 20.7 feet
• Orta Otluk: 29.9 feet, 59.8 feet, and 48.3 feet
• the Ovrakh of the Orta Otluk, at its peak: 75.9 feet, 34.5 feet, and 94.3 feet

Based on a final piece of information provided by Cornies, we can also calculate how long it would have taken to drill to these depths. Cornies notes in his first paragraph that a crew of eight men can drill 10–11 sazhen on a “day as is short as is normal for this time of year,” that is, November. The Russian sazhen (саже́нь) was about 7 feet, so Cornies’s crew of eight could drill 70–77 feet a day. That is actually quite impressive, a testament to the efficiency of the ground auger and the efforts of its operators.

It is easy to hold the mistaken impression that the Molotschna residents were dependent on streams, rivers, ponds, and lakes for their daily water needs, for the settlers and their livestock (but not irrigation), as Cornies puts it. In fact, humans have dug and drilled water wells for centuries, even millennia. That our Mennonite ancestors did the same in Molotschna colony should come as no surprise.