Correction: Martin Köhn

Earlier this month Buller Time suggested that the name Martin Köhn, the twelfth person listed on our working list of 1819 emigrants, was a scribal error (see here). The logic seemed inescapable, since neither the Przechovka church book nor GRANDMA knew anyone named Martin Köhn at that time. Unfortunately, the suggestion turns out to be completely wrong. Once again, the primary sources reveal the correct answer.

The work on which we have been relying in the Przechovka Emigration series is Peter Rempel’s 2007 Mennonite Migration to Russia, 1788–1828. Although based on primary sources, this work itself is a secondary resource, since it presents to us an edited, translated summary of the original records with which Rempel was working. Those original emigration records are the only primary sources in this investigation.

The hypothesis that Martin Köhn’s name was a scribal error imagined that, during his copying of the original records, Rempel accidentally copied the name Martin from the preceding entry. This seemed the best way to explain a name (i.e., Martin Köhn) that appears nowhere else in our records.

The original records were gathered by Peter Braun (if I understand correctly) from the St. Petersburg governmental archives. The actual records found within the archives were originally microfilmed and distributed to, among others, several Mennonite archives. The Mennonite Heritage Archives (here), from which the records shown below originate, scanned these microfilms, thus giving researchers easier access to the actual lists than ever before. Thank you both to the Mennonite Heritage Archives and to Glenn Penner for sending the records related to the Przechovka Emigration series.

All this is background to our examination of an image of the actual records for several Przechovka emigrants.

A quick glance reveals the extent of Rempel’s editing of the records. The original records are set in columns; Rempel offers short narrative entries instead. For example, the first record shown, number 486, is presented at follows by Rempel:

Peter (Pierre) Unrau Mennonite from Przeckowko with his wife, 2 daughters. Passport from Marienwerder issued on July 13, 1819. (2007, 136)

The actual record presents the information in a more list-like fashion. This is not surprising; these are, after all, government records. What is surprising is the language in which the documents are written: French. It is unclear why records compiled in West Prussia/Poland, then presumably forwarded to Russia were composed in French. I realize that French was a well-established language of diplomacy, but these records were not meant to be exchanged between governments; rather, unless I am mistaken these records were created by Russian officials in West Prussia and forwarded to Russian officials in Russia. Thus the use of French for the Russian records presents a real mystery.

As for the structure and contents of the entries, after a record number (486) in the far left column, the next two columns document the date of the Russian visa’s issuance. The hash marks in those columns indicate that the same date from the prior page (20 July 1819) applies here. 

Column 4 includes all the personal information on the emigrants: Visá á Pierre Unrau Mennonite de Przeckowko avec sa femme & 2 filles. That is, the visa was issued to Peter (Pierre is the French form of the name) Unrau, a Mennonite from Przechovka, with his wife and two daughters. 

The next three columns list the location where the Prussian passport authorizing travel was issued and then the day (jour) and month (mois) it was issued. Instead of hash marks in these columns, we see what is almost certainly an abbreviation of the word dito (the abbreviation consists of a capital D with a raised letter o that has two lines and a period below it), whose English equivalent is ditto. Turning back to the previous page, we learn that Peter Unrau, like the two individuals listed before him, received a passport from Marienwerder issued 13 July 1819. 

The final column bears the heading “pour quel endroit,” or “for which place.” Turning back again to the prior pages, we read “pour Ekaterinoslaw,” or “for Ekaterinoslav.” If the name of that Russian city sounds familiar, it is because we encountered it earlier as the site of the Guardianship Committee for Foreign Settlers in the Southern Regions of Russia (see here), the Russian governmental office that had charge of all foreign colonists in that area of New Russia. Presumably the phrase “for Ekaterinoslav” indicates to which Russian regional jurisdiction an emigrant was bound.

Now that we have examined closely a typical entry, we return to the opening topic of this post. Listed below Peter Unrau we see the names Martin Knels (number 487) and Martin Köhn (488). There is no doubting or disputing this primary source: the individual listed—sans wife and children—was named Martin Köhn. 

This is, to my knowledge, the only extant evidence for Martin Köhn’s existence. Perhaps he never did marry and thus left no children to remember him. Whatever his fate might have been, we can say now that Martin Köhn did live and planned to emigrate eastward in July of 1819. The earlier hypothesis of a scribal error has been proven false. 

Work Cited

Rempel. Peter. 2007. Mennonite Migration to Russia, 1788–1828. Edited by Alfred H. Redekopp and Richard D. Thiessen. Winnepeg: Manitoba Mennonite Historical Society.