1835 Census

We have often drawn information about our Buller ancestors and other Mennonites from the 1835 Molotschna census, and once we even presented a scanned page from a handwritten translation of it (see here). However, we have never looked closely at a page from the census, only glanced quickly at it in a picture taken by Ken Ratzlaff (see here). Thanks to Glenn Penner, we now have a digital photo of one page of the census that we can examine with a little more care.

The original census is currently held in the Peter Braun Collection in Fund 89, File 357, at the Odessa Archives in Odessa, Ukraine. It has been microfilmed twice (most recently in 2013, I believe) and, as we know, reproduced in a handwritten translation. The census is available for public viewing, which is how Ken Ratzlaff and a Ukrainian researcher colleague of Glenn Penner were able to photograph pages. With that background, we are ready to examine the example page, which is, of course, written entirely in Russian.

1. In the upper right of the page the number 255 has been crossed out and 221 written instead. This is the page number of the census, which totaled around 775 pages. The page number 221 enables us to identify this as a page from the Ohrloff census.

2. The heading across the top of the page reads РЕВИЗСКАЯ СКАЗКА, which Google Translate renders “audit tale.” The meaning of this wooden translation is clear enough: this is the record of the population audit, otherwise known as a census.

3. Below the heading and to the left is the date of the record, which is 1835, January 28. Additional column headings appear below that to indicate the family number (far left), the name and relation of each person being counted (more on that below), additional information (e.g., year of death or village from which or which someone moved), and the person’s age at the time of the census. Note especially that the second line of the column 2 heading identifies the people being recorded as Mennonites. That information was written in by hand, so presumably other ethnic (or religious?) groups were labeled in their censuses as well.

4. At the bottom of the page is a count of the number of living people listed. This page, for example, lists thirteen person.

The curve of the page into the spine of the book (left) makes it difficult to decipher the first column, but page 221 contains the continuation of Ohrloff Wirtschaft 20 and Wirstschaften 21–22. Looking more closely at the page confirms that those are the numbers in the left-hand column.

The heading of the second column identifies this as a page for listing females. You may recall from earlier discussions that Russian censuses (and some church books in Russia) listed males on left-hand pages and females on right-hand pages. Thus the left-hand page corresponding to this right-hand page listing females would have listed the male family members (head of household first) who were domiciled with these females.

In fact, adult females were often identified in relation to the male head of household. For example, in the record of Reimer families living at Ohrloff 20, the first line in the page above translated literally is: Heinrich Jacob’s wife (жена) Elizabeth. Below that his daughters Anna and Maria are listed. The next line names Aaron Jacob’s wife Katharina.

Column 3 on female pages rarely contains any notation of death or any other noteworthy event. The male pages reflect the greater significance that the census held for recording these sorts of details for the male residents. In general, significant information such as emigration date, relocation, and death was associated with and recorded for males, especially a male head of household.

As the photograph above makes clear, the census was a relatively simple record of who lived where and how old each household member was in 1835. However, because the census was a relatively complete record of the Mennonite population’s residency and movements, we are able to draw useful information from it in our reconstruction of the Molotschna world in which our ancestors lived.

South Dakota Bullers 16

When we last saw Heinrich and Aganetha and family, they had just arrived in Warsaw, Poland, well on their way to a new life in the United States. Still, a cloud of uncertainty hung over the journey, since they had no passports authorizing them to cross the border from Russia to Prussia (Germany). We pick up their story ready to press on from Warsaw.

[27] At 6 o’clock in the evening therefore, a few days later, we find them again entrained from Warsaw to the Polish town of Loviech, where a mere acquaintance was to receive them and bring them to safe quarters. It might be added here that they had expected to take the boat here at Warsaw, but it happened that the Vistula was too low that summer, so that no boats plied its waters. Thus they arrived at Loviech about 11 o’clock at night. The acquaintance referred to failed to show up. So there they were, strangers in a [28] strange city and unaccustomed to city ways. What were they to do? It was late at night, and the city slept in darkness. A Pole stood nearby and was watching them. To him, father addressed himself, asking where suitable quarters could be found for the night. He was very officious and volunteered to lead them. They followed. Further and further he took them from the heart of the city through all sorts of devious ways. Mother had mistrusted the man from the start and kept urging father to let the fellow go. At first, he did not want to, but at last, also suspicious of the man’s actions, he dismissed his would-be friend from whom many a hearty oath and curse was called down upon them! But now where were they to go? Mother had noticed a light peeping from the window of a building not far away and advised going there. Arriving, they found it to be a cheap hotel. They asked for quarters, but there was no room. Finally, they were allowed to spend the remainder of the night in a barn loft where a mixed crowd of Poles and Jews were already asleep on the hay. That, indeed, was a dreary night!

They spent Sunday, August 22,  in  this place, and the next day in the early morn, left Loviech for Deutsch Wymysle, father’s birthplace. About three weeks were spent here in visiting friends and relatives and renewing old acquaintances. It had been fully twenty years since father had left the place, and now he was leaving, to see it no more. At the end of that period they resumed their journey. They took the train a few stations only, for they had come to the borderline between Russian Poland and Germany. They stopped off, and we may well surmise that fear and trepidation were disturbing them, for now was to follow the ticklish business of getting smuggled across this line. Beyond that line was freedom; if caught, back they would have to go, back to where they started from. Many a time father had regretted that he had not provided himself with passports, but that could not not be remedied, and the only recourse was a secret passage.

It appeared that there were a group of men who made it their regular business to smuggle people across the lines. Father soon met a member of this group, a German who for a few Rubles would undertake the job. Now, the line between the two countries at that particular point was a small, innocent-looking brook, which was perhaps three or [29] four steps wide and quite shallow. Everything was left in the hands of this guide, who at the proper moments would wake them and lead them across the small stream. So it was agreed, and in the small hours of the night, when the armed guards that were patrolling the line day and night were either asleep or drinking vodka in the tavern, they quietly crossed that stream, a crossing which meant so terribly much to them and to their future! Safely across on German soil, they could see in the early morning light these gendarmes with their shining arms marching back and forth, and doubtless secretly chagrined over the failure of their watch.

Thus, safely across on German soil, they took the train for Thoren, staying two and one-half days there to wait for Jacob Penner and his family, who were to be their traveling companions on this eventful journey. It may be appropriate to say here that these Penners located at Mountain Lake, Minnesota, joining a large Mennonite settlement there. Two sons of theirs should also be mentioned: Wilhelm and Jacob Jr. The former was the second husband of Mrs. Martens, who comes into this tale at its close, and the latter was instrumental in bringing about that chance meeting with her that culminated in father’s second marriage. This Penner now lives at New Home, North Dakota.

After the Penners had joined them, they took the train for Berlin, the capital city of Germany, arriving there early in the morning. The Nord-Deutche-Lloyd steamship company of Bremen had local offices here, and so father went to see the agent. The contract covering their passage across the seas having been closed, they waited in patience until about 11 o’clock in the forenoon, when they took the train for Bremen and arrived there about 9 o’clock p.m. On the next day, which was either the 22nd or 23rd of September, at 2 o’clock p.m., they went on board the steamship “Leipzig”—a 3,000 ton boat—for passage to America.

Their voyage was uneventful except that it was the time of the autumnal equinox with considerable stormy, foggy weather. They were on board ship a full twenty days—so long a time that it had been quite given up for lost. They were only steerage passengers (Zwischen deckers) but were treated very kindly by captain and crew. Gladly, at the [30] end of their voyage, did they sign statements expressing their satisfaction over the treatment accorded them. At last, on the 12th of October, they landed at Baltimore, Maryland. They had no medical examination to make, nor were they required to show any stated sum of money as the immigration laws of today required. Their captain was a courteous, well-meaning man and took thought of their needs even after they left the ship. He instructed his steward to provide them with food—salt herring and bread—for the great part of their journey inland. “For,” said he, “you are going into a wilderness where food of any kind is very dear.” He further instructed a man to attend them as far as Chicago to look after all their wants. Thus, with minds eased and thankful for the favors of Divine Providence that had brought them safely to these shores, they soon left Baltimore for Chicago. From Chicago they went by way of Milwaukee to Sioux City, and from there to Yankton, South Dakota, arriving there at 6 o’clock in the evening of October 15th, 1875, thankful to God that they had at last reached their long journey’s end.

1. The Polish town Loviech cannot be identified or located on any map known to me. The most we can deduce is that the town was presumably on the Vistula River, since the family had hoped to take a boat to it, and that it was located somewhere between Warsaw and Deutsch Wymysle. That it was a five-hour train ride from Warsaw does not tell us a great deal, since we do not know how fast the train traveled or how many stops it had between Warsaw and Loviech.

2. Deutsch Wymysle is well known to us as Heinrich’s former home and as a Mennonite community where many other Bullers lived during the first half of the nineteenth century. The small village (the middle arrow below) was on the south side of the Vistula approximately 50 miles west-northwest of Warsaw (arrow on the right). 

3. The border between Russia (technically, Congress Poland, which was part of the Russian Empire) and Prussia (which was part of the German Empire that existed 1871–1918) is the blue line in the map above. We cannot say where exactly the family crossed the border, but presumably it was not far south of where the Vistula River intersected the border.

4. The family’s next stop was Thoren, or Thorn, modern Torun (the left arrow in the map above). I suspect that the family disembarked from the train at the last stop in Russia, made their nighttime dash across the border, and then got on the same rail line on the Prussian side of the border for their trip to Torun.

5. Jacob Penner (GM 56904) was another Deutsch Wymysle native who had moved to Crimea. Why the Penners and Bullers did not travel together on the first leg of their common journey is unknown, but perhaps it seemed best to travel individually until everyone was out of Russia, so as not to attract too much attention.

6. From Torun the parties had a direct route to Berlin on the Prussian Eastern Railway. The distance between the two is approximately 220 miles as the crow flies. In the map below, the arrow on the right marks Torun; that on the left points to Berlin.

The trip from Berlin to Bremen would have gone through Hanover; this last leg of the European part of the journey was another 190 miles. 

7. As one can see in the map immediately above, Bremen is not a port city, but our story recounts that the family sought to book passage on the “Nord-Deutche-Lloyd steamship company of Bremen.” In fact, according to the Norway-Heritage website discussion of Norddeutscher Lloyd steamers (here), “Passengers were conveyed by special train the short run from Bremen [lower left arrow] to the docks at Bremerhaven [upper left arrow]. The railway-station was but a few steps from the pier, and passengers walked on board the tender, while the Company’s porters were shipping the baggage. The steamers waited not far off the mouth of the river.”

8. The S.S. Leipzig was indeed a ship of the Norddeutscher Lloyd line (see here); it was built in 1869 and measured 269 feet stem to stern. The Bullers and Penners traveled steerage, which is known as “Zwischendeck” in German. As noted previously (here), steerage was the cheapest class offered by ships. 

According to one source (here), the Leipzig traveled at an average rate of 10 knots, which is 11.5 miles per hour. The trip across the Atlantic to Baltimore, where they landed, would take about sixteen days at this pace. The fact that the October 1875 trip took twenty days explains why those waiting for it to arrive worried that the ship was lost. 

9. The last leg of the journey, nearly 1,200 miles, took three days by train, from Baltimore to Chicago to Milwaukee to Sioux City to Yankton—precisely where Daniel Unruh has landed a year earlier. The fact that they went straight to Yankton, rather than Mountain Lake, Minnesota, or some Mennonite community in Nebraska or Kansas, was no accident. Heinrich and Aganetha had followed Unruh’s route exactly, just as he had intended them to do. In fact, like Unruh, they settled in Turner County, although in Brotherfield Township, whereas Unruh had made his home in Childstown Township (see the map here). 

The Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller goes on to recount the family’s early years in South Dakota, but we will take our leave at this point. We may return to the rest of the story at some point in the future, but for now I think Franztal in Molotschna beckons for our attention. 

Work Cited 

Buller, William B. 1915. Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. Parker, SD: privately printed.

South Dakota Bullers 15

The post on Daniel Unruh was not an interruption in this series but rather preparation for this post: the journey of Heinrich and Aganetha Buller and their children from Crimea to the plains of Dakota Territory. We left off the narrative of William Buller’s Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller with the couple ready to begin the journey.  

[26] Their departure for America was preceded by one last visit to such friends and relatives as they had. Accordingly, they left Schakell by wagon on the 6th day of August, 1875—being on a Friday—for the village of Schwesterthal for an over-Sunday visit with mother’s sister Mary, now Mrs. John Sperling. An untoward incident happened on that little journey which, if they had been of a superstitious mind, might have appeared as an omen direct from Heaven, warning them not to go any farther. As they were crossing a river (they had to ford it), in some way their wagon came near upsetting just when they were in the swiftest part of the current. For a moment their lives seemed in danger. All their store of earthly goods came near being lost in the turbulent little stream. For this, the initial part of their great journey, they were indebted to the kindness of one Abraham Toems.

On the following Monday Sperling took them overland to Cornelius Duerksen’s, a distance of some 50 Werst (about 30 miles). Several days were spent there visiting, and sad were some of the scenes enacted as the time for their departure drew near. Duerksen looked at the whole undertaking from a decidedly dark angle and did everything he could to dissuade them from it. But so firmly had they made up their minds that nothing coμld move them. They refused to look at it darkly. So Uncle Duerksen drove with them to Koslov, a seaport on the Black Sea, where they intended to board a steamer for Odessa. They arrived there towards evening of a fine day, but during the night it began to rain, and all the next day it kept on pouring down. Their boat was to leave at 6 o’clock p.m., and as the time drew near it began to look as though they would have to become thoroughly soaked to gain the ship. All looked gloomy and dark. Cornelius Duerksen made one final appeal to them to change their minds, offering to haul them back to Schakell and let them have the use of a couple of cows gratuitously. But to no avail. Father and mother remained firm and determined to continue their journey. Still it kept on pouring until, as if a merciful God took pity on them at just the right time, about 5:30 p.m., the storm ceased for a few minutes, and the sun shone through a rift in the clouds. All made good use of the lull in the storm. [27] Quickly Uncle Duerksen drove them and their belongings to the wharf, unloaded and helped them board the boat.

People of all nationalities—Russians, Turks and Tartars—were streaming back and forth; the bridge leading to the boat was slippery and treacherous. In the haste and confusion, in some way Cornelius had become separated from the rest of the little flock. Suddenly Mary noticed that he was missing and darted away, screaming and crying, to look for him. In and between that motley crowd she dodged and ducked and searched. Fear and alarm were written in such bold characters upon her girlish face that each could read in his own language the distress painted there. Soon the crowd began to question in the Russian language, “Tschewa? Tschewa?”( What is it? What is it?), to which father explained that a boy was missing. All eyes now were busy, and soon the boy was found sitting on the edge of that slippery bridge, shaking his feet to and fro over the back sea below, seemingly unconscious of any danger. One show was gone, but the boy was saved! Mary, the heroine, had found him! And be it said here as a small tribute to the memory of that brave and noble heart that this incident well shows the qualities of courage, watchfulness, and love that characterized her whole life.

On Saturday, August 14, they arrived at Odessa. They spent Sunday there. They visited the agent of a ship company, but, having no passports, on which subject they had been misinformed, they could not be transferred by him. Accordingly, about 6 o’clock that Sunday night, they took the train for Warsaw, where they stopped off for three days, in part to gather information concerning their further journey—particularly in which manner to get across the Russian border (without passports) and in part to visit a friend (living quite near the city).

1. Several posts ago we were unable positively to identify any of the locations mentioned; this time we are in somewhat better shape. We still do not know the location of Schakell, where Heinrich and Aganetha lived, but we can provide the rough location of Schwesterthal. According to Tim Janzen’s compilation of Mennonite Villages in Russia (here), this village was located in the Dzhankoy district, which is marked with the number 1 in the map below.

2. Aganetha’s sister Mary (Maria) lost her spouse in 1866, John Sperling his in February 1875; the two were married in May 1875, and Mary and her children moved to the Crimea, where John already lived.

3. It is unclear whose uncle Cornelius Duerksen (Dirks) was, but the most likely explanation is that our author William is speaking of his uncle, thus Aganetha’s brother. If so, then we can presumably locate Cornelius, per GRANDMA, at Biyuk-Busau, number 2 on the map below.

4. From there, we are told, Cornelius transported the emigrants to “Koslov, a seaport on the Black Sea, where they intended to board a steamer for Odessa.” Kozlov was the former name of the city of Yevpatoria, which is a prominent port on the Black Sea (number 3). The family then took a steamer to Odessa (number 4), a city of over 160,000 people at that time.

5. Before leaving Odessa, the family had a scare, as the youngest child, Cornelius, went missing. His sister Mary noticed his absence and was the one who ended up finding him. Mary died in 1896, just shy of her thirtieth birthday, which explains why William, writing in 1915, speaks of her in the past tense.

6. The statement that “they visited the agent of a ship company, but, having no passports, … they could not be transferred by him” raises several significant questions. Did the agent work for the steamer company that had just transported them, or was this a ship company for a future leg of their journey? What does the verb “transferred” mean in this context? Did this obstacle prompt them to travel by train to Warsaw, or would they have done so anyway? The first two questions remain a mystery, but the third may permit a reasonable guess.

The article referenced in the previous post (here) describes Daniel Unruh’s journey from Crimea to the U.S. as follows: “Since leaving their Crimean homes in the Black Sea villages of Brudersfeld and Friedenstein for the Russian port of Feodosia, the Unruh group had spent some five weeks in travel, coming by way of Odessa, Berlin, and Hamburg” (Unruh and Unruh 1975, 206). The key sequence is Odessa–Berlin–Hamburg. Heinrich and family followed the same route, presumably by design, not by chance. Since there is no way to go from Odessa to Berlin except by land, we can probably safely conclude that the train ride from Odessa to Warsaw was not in reaction to the transfer problem, whatever it might have been; rather, it was in spite of that problem, which did not prevent the family from keeping to their planned course.

Clearly, the lack of passports was a problem when they arrived in Odessa, and it remained so once they rolled into Warsaw. The following post will pick up the story there, with Heinrich and Aganetha facing the passport problem head on.

Works Cited 

Buller, William B. 1915. Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. Parker, SD: privately printed.

Unruh, John D., and John D. Unruh Jr. 1975. Daniel Unruh and the Mennonite Settlement in Dakota Territory. Mennonite Quarterly Review 49:203–16. Available online here.

Daniel Unruh

Several recent posts have mentioned Daniel Unruh, first as Aganetha Dirks’s appointed guardian after the death of her father left her an orphan (her mother had died six years earlier), then as a caretaker who invited her into his own home when he relocated his family in Crimea, and, finally, as a trusted adviser to Aganetha and Heinrich when they expressed the wish to move to the United States. 

Unruh obviously played an important role in the life of this Buller family, but his influence extended much further in the Mennonite world of his day. In fact, Unruh was important enough that he was the subject of an article in the Mennonite Quarterly Review (Unruh and Unruh 1975). That article, which can be read online at the Plett Foundation website (here), is well worth reading in its entirety; this post will merely highlight a few interesting points.

The GRANDMA entry for Daniel Unruh notes, among other things, that “he was the first Mennonite settler of South Dakota.” The MQR article agrees but adds important details. You may recall that, when the Russian Mennonites first thought seriously about emigrating to North America, they sent a delegation of twelve men (including Jacob Buller of Alexanderwohl) to scout out the best places to settle. Although the delegation explored the territories of Kansas, Nebraska, Minnesota, and Dakota, they did not visit the area in South Dakota that saw the greatest influx of Russian Mennonites. How, then, did these people come to settle there? 

When Unruh and his initial party arrived in the U.S. in 1873, he and five others left the main body in Elkhart, Indiana, while they searched for a suitable place for the group to settle. Their stops included Kansas, Iowa, Minnesota, and Dakota Territory. According to the article,

Unruh favored lands he had seen in Iowa and would have personally preferred to locate there had he not felt responsibility both for the group which had traveled with him and for friends still in Russia who were anxiously awaiting word from Unruh before commencing the journey to America.  Many of these possessed only meager financial resources and would be unable to purchase lands, as would be necessary in Iowa.  Besides, Iowa was already quite densely populated and there simply would not be sufficient quantities of land available for the many immigrants assumed to be coming. (Unruh and Unruh 1975, 208)

Consequently, after personally inspecting land in southeastern Dakota to the north of Yankton, Unruh decided that the group of eighty or so immigrants in his party would settle there. After spending the winter of 1873–1874 in Yankton, Unruh made “the first Mennonite settlement in Dakota Territory in Childstown Township of Turner County along the banks of Turkey Ridge Creek,” roughly 30 miles northeast of Yankton (Unruh and Unruh 1975, 209). As we will learn in subsequent posts, this initial traveling party was not the last to settle in Turner County and the surrounding area; others in the years to follow also followed Unruh’s lead, including Heinrich and Aganetha and their family.

Another curiosity in the MQR article is also worth noting: the source cited in note 8 in support of the statement that “by the early 1850s Unruh owned considerable land near the Molotschna village of Waldheim, where he was an influential member of the community” (Unruh and Unruh 1975, 209). Note 8 reads:

W. D. Buller, “Heinrich Buller” (Typewritten MS written March 19, 1915, now in possession of Eldon E. Smith, Marion, South Dakota), 7. 

Close comparison with the end of the preface in Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller leaves little doubt what is being cited.

Although the note refers to W. D. Buller and the preface is signed by W. B. Buller, both documents are dated 19 March 1915, which is convincing evidence that we are dealing with the same source. Interestingly, the note refers to page 7 of a manuscript (MS) titled “Heinrich Buller.” However, the comment about Daniel Unruh’s landholdings near Waldheim appears on page 16 of the Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. In all likelihood, then, Unruh and Unruh, the authors of the MQR article, had access to a different form of the work than the printing that we have been consulting. I suspect that their document was an original manuscript, prior to the layout of the final book, which contains photos and is divided into chapters.

In any event, it is encouraging to know that the historians who wrote the article about Daniel Unruh found the reminiscences of Heinrich Buller to be trustworthy in this instance. It is also interesting to learn how influential Daniel Unruh was in the Mennonite settlement of southeastern South Dakota. His role will come back into view as we progress further in the story of Heinrich and Aganetha.

Works Cited 

Buller, William B. 1915. Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. Parker, SD: privately printed.

Unruh, John D., and John D. Unruh Jr. 1975. Daniel Unruh and the Mennonite Settlement in Dakota Territory. Mennonite Quarterly Review 49:203–16. Available online here.

South Dakota Bullers 14

Thus far in the Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller, as recorded by their son William, we have read of Heinrich’s ancestry back to his grandfather, also named Heinrich, in Brenkenhoffswalde in Neumark, of his poverty growing up in Deutsch-Wymsyle and then his being orphaned at age seventeen, followed by his emigration to Molotschna colony, where he worked as a blacksmith until eventually he moved to the Crimean peninsula. We then turned to the ancestry and life of Aganetha Dirks, who was likewise orphaned, albeit at the much younger age of nine, and spent the next decade or more working for various families from one end of Molotschna colony to the other, until she also moved to the Crimea with her guardian Daniel Unruh. Eventually the two stories merged, and the two married in November 1865. 

As was the case with the last post, the following section is more personal than historically important; this is, after all, a family history. However, the experiences of Heinrich and Aganetha were probably not that different from those of our own ancestors. By reading about their lives, then, we understand better what our own ancestors went through during their sojourn in Russia. With that in mind, we pick up the thread of the story with the newlywed couple.

[23] Soon after this, father and mother went to live with a family by the name of Birnbaum. Father had hired out to this man to do the smithing. Everything went well for a time, but gradually Herr Birnbaum became sullen, gruff and fault-finding. Nevertheless, father endured his insolence patiently for two years. He had rented a few acres of land which was sown to barley. Mother was glad to help at anything that she could do. She was the very soul of economy, industry and thrift, and both Mr. and Mrs. Birnbaum liked her. She worried a great deal over the misunderstandings between Mr. Birnbaum and her husband, but day by day the breach between them widened until the climax came over a horse deal that father had made with him. Looking back these many years, father admits that he was perhaps rather too bold, stubborn, and impetuous considering his poor condition, and the fact is, he felt the same way about it at that time, and tried to make amends to Mr. Birnbaum by begging forgiveness and offering his hand—all of which overtures Herr Birnbaum proudly spurned. To him it was the unpardonable sin that a poor man, desiring rather to suffer wrongfully than to make enemies, offered to assume all the blame—he would not deign to receive it, but became still more bitter. Not only did he alter the terms of sale of the horse so that it was utterly impossible for father to meet them (which he knew), but he even demanded the immediate return of a book that mother had borrowed, stating that they would steal it, no doubt, once they left his premises. A few years later he died. On his deathbed, the pangs of his conscience, no doubt, were so sharp that he sent a messenger to our parents’ home with the book and with his request to mother to forgive him—but to father, never! He died with hatred and unforgiveness towards father in his heart. Evidently he never experienced in his heart the pleasure of that gentle virtue—mercy—which Shakespeare in his Merchant of Venice so admirably describes, “The quality of mercy is unstrained; it falleth like the gentle dew from heaven. It blesseth alike him who gives and him who receives.”

That was a sorrowful day for mother when they left the Birnbaums. It cost her many a bitter tear, for time had already woven a train of tender associations about the place. Here Mary, her firstborn, was born on the 19th of November, 1866; and here, too, on the [24] 15th of January, 1868, her second child, Aganetha, had been born and now lay buried. She was such a bright and cheerful child of but one year and one-half, and it nearly broke mother’s heart when the Death Angel came. Can we wonder that with the thought of this new-made grave uppermost in her mind that she was loathe to leave the place?

After leaving Jabor (for so the village was called where the Birnbaums lived), they moved to Schigel, Crimea, where father again plied his trade of blacksmithing. In addition, they began farming on a small scale. They lived here three or four years and slowly acquired a little property. Here on the 6th of September, 1869, Henry was born. Also, Lena, on the 20th of April, 1871, and Cornelius on the 6th of June, 1873.

From Schigel they moved to Friedenstein, where it will be remembered they had been married. They rented a little ground here but remained only one year, as all the German landowners (the Unruhs, the Schroeders, the Tolems, the Gloecklers) had sold out to Armenians and had to give possession at that time. Some of these, like the Unruhs, moved to America, as we have already noted. This was in 1873, and father was ready at that time to go to America, but Unruh discouraged him, pointing out to him his lack of funds. This, too, was the guidance of Providence, for had they come over at that time, they would not have known where to go.

But from now on, their minds were made up to go to America, and they were waiting only to hear from a Mr. Unruh. And so it was that at the end of their year at Friedenstein, they moved for a few months to Schakell, just long enough for an event of great importance to happen. For here, at the hour of two p.m. on the 7th day of July, 1875, another son was born to them whom they forthwith named Abraham. It was the time of harvest, and father helped the neighbor farmers there until the 6th day of August, when they decided the time was ripe for them to begin their great journey to America. What an undertaking it was for them! Poor and inexperienced in travel as they were, with a family of small children—the oldest of which was nine years and the youngest but a babe of one month—we today can hardly comprehend. But doubt never seemed to enter their minds. They were in the prime of life and had stout hands and brave hearts. It required determination and faith and vision, but they had all these [25] things, and today we are the heirs of what these sturdy qualities in them wrought for us. May that day never come when we shall forget the debt of gratitude that we owe them, and that Being whose hand so graciously guided them, and Who shapes alike the destinies of men and nations!

Given the personal, individual nature of the stories, not a great deal requires explanation here. However, the villages mentioned—Jabor, Schigel, Friedenstein, and Schakell—warrant some comment, even if we are able to offer only hints and guesses. We begin with the larger context, repeated from the previous post:

Mennonites began to settle here [Crimea] soon after the Crimean War (1853–1856); probably they became acquainted with it in the course of their transportation duties for the government and preferred it to the other lands under consideration for settlement situated on the Amur in Siberia. In 1860 Mennonite land seekers looked over several possible sites, and in 1862 four villages were established, which were later followed by others. (Brandt and Krahn 1953)

In fact, Germans (for so the Mennonites were classed) had been settling Crimea since the end of the eighteenth century, and among the total colonist population of Crimea the Lutherans far outnumbered the Mennonites. Further, Molotschna Mennonites were well aware of Crimea early on; for example, Johann Cornies, when just a teenager, earned his early fortune by driving a wagon to the peninsula to engage in trade with its residents. Seeing his success, other Mennonites followed suit and hauled a variety of agricultural products south.

Consequently, although the Mennonite migration to the Crimea was no doubt spurred by Mennonite contact with the area during the Crimean War of the mid-1850s, I suspect two other factors were more decisive: the Molotschna land crisis was reaching a critical point in the late 1850s, which served as a strong motivation for many Mennonites to seek available farmland; Crimea was far more settled and German than it had been in the early nineteenth century, which made it a more attractive locale to put down roots. These realities shaped the Mennonite experience in Crimea and may be reflected in what we know—and do not know—about Heinrich and Aganetha’s Crimean experience. 

Heinrich Goerz explains that “there were no large closed [Mennonite] colonies in Crimea. Its various settlements were widely scattered throughout the great plain of the peninsula and each one was different” (Goerz 1992, xvii). Stated more simply, strictly Mennonite villages were spread throughout the peninsula, not concentrated in any one area. Further, there were far more German villages than Mennonite ones, as a comparison of a list of German Crimean villages (here) with that of Mennonite Crimean villages (here) reveals. Consequently, we should not think that all Crimean Mennonites lived in Mennonite-only villages; many of them no doubt lived alongside and among Lutheran Germans.

This is important for our understanding of Heinrich and Aganetha’s residency in Crimea. Only one of the villages where they are said to have lived, Friedenstein, can be identified, and it appears only on the German list linked above, not the Mennonite list. Further, the last name Birnbaun, where the couple worked in Jabor, is presumably a Jewish name, which again implies a non-Mennonite locale. The location and identity of the other villages mentioned are unknown, but there is no reason to think that they were strictly Mennonite. Finally, the account refers to German, not Mennonite, landowners in Friedenstein. In all likelihood, then, Heinrich and Aganetha had contact with a variety of ethnic and religious groups, including but not limited to Mennonites.

Not much more can be said about this chapter in the family history of Heinrich and Aganetha. We leave them on the cusp of their journey to America, where we will pick up the story in the following post.

Works Cited

Brandt, Theodor, and Cornelius Krahn. 1953. Crimea (Ukraine). Global Anabaptist Mennonite Encyclopedia Online. Available online here.

Buller, William B. 1915. Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. Parker, SD: privately printed.

Goerz, Heinrich. Mennonite Settlements in Crimea. Translated by John B. Toews. Echo Historical Series 13. Winnipeg: CMBC Publications, Manitoba Mennonite Historical Society.

South Dakota Bullers 13

The last installment of the story of Aganetha Dirks Buller ended with her orphaned and placed under the guardianship of a second cousin by marriage: Daniel Unruh. We pick up the narrative at that point.

[17] But now to revert once more to mother’s early life. We left her mourning the loss of her father and orphaned now indeed. There was a big family left to be provided for, and so it was deemed necessary for her to work out. How must this change in her fortunes have affected her, a girl of only nine years, strong attached to home and her own! With these things in mind, let us follow her to the home of her first mistress in Gnadenheim. The name of the people was Kopp. They seem to have been hard-hearted and unsympathetic. She had to work very hard considering her age. She had to help her mistress in the house, do chores, and, hardest of all, carry all the straw needed as fuel for the spacious Russian fireplace. The straw piles were well made and packed solid, but it was her duty no matter in what kind of weather, to pluck it with her hands and carry it on her back to the house. She was homesick, of course, and as winter came on suffered a great deal from cold. Once in late December when it was bitter cold and the snow was deep and still falling, she labored at this hard job of carrying the straw until, numbed by the cold, and completely exhausted, she sank down by the straw pile to rest. She was so tired that she was fast fall asleep. She suddenly felt herself so comfortable and so warm as those are always said to feel whom extreme cold at last overcome. She would doubtless have frozen to death there had not somebody roused her in time. Do we wonder that she was sick at heart and soul in such a place? As the Christmas time drew near, her one desire was to visit her brothers Benjamin and Cornelius at her childhood home in Waldheim. She was finally given permission to do so, provided she would carry enough straw to last over Christmas Day. She gladly consented to this and worked harder than ever. Finally Christmas Day came and early in the morning, she set out on foot for Waldheim, a distance of four villages. She had made up her mind that she would not go back to Kopp’s. After the holiday, they came after her, but she positively refused to go with them. Mr. Unruh, her guardian, did not like this very much but could not force her to go.

But another place had to be found for her, and so for the next year she was taken to Daniel Unruh’s parents. They were, of course, more humane. But still no idling was allowed, and she again worked as hard as a girl of her age possibly could. Among other things, she had to help hoe the garden, which was a big one. This work was very tiring [18] for the back, and often when engaged in this toil, the elder Unruh would sit by his window to watch them. Being so young, the work tired her very much, and her back would ache furiously, but the minute she stopped or any of them stopped, the watchful old man would gently remind them that they were losing time. And yet these were kindly, goodhearted people, and she felt quite content. But after she had been there about one year, the wife of this elder Unruh died, and the home was broken up, so that a new place had to be found for mother. This time Daniel Unruh (guardian) hired her out for a year to his own brother at Alexanderthal. She was to get 12 Rubles the year. There was a fine prospect of a big crop, and this Unruh needed extra help in the field. Accordingly he promised mother that he would clothe her from head to foot if she would do the work of a binder in the field. But when the crop was threshed, the wheat was found to be light and far below expectations. So her boss never fulfilled his promise. She was now about 12 years old. As the mistress of the house was sickly, the main burden of the work fell on her. Of course, she had to carry all the fuel and the water. She had to get everything in readiness for the meals, build the fires, peel the potatoes, etc., and this done, help in the fields. How long she stayed here, I cannot say. Suffice it to say that in this manner several years sped by. We get another glimpse of her [when] she was about 16 years old. She was now working for a certain Abrams. They appear to have been jolly and lively people and great lovers of the dance. Consequently, large crowds often seem to have gathered there for just this pastime. As time wore on, mother, too, was drawn into these gay gatherings and had learned to dance. She had to work hard, but then she was young and full of life, and like any girl of her age, fell easily under the spell of the yodler’s music. On one such occasion after she had danced until she was perspiring freely, she left the crowd to quench her thirst at the nearby well. She quaffed freely of the cold water, and being in such an over-heated condition (from the dance), she immediately felt the ill effects of the drink in every limb. How often afterwards she had occasion to regret that bit of thoughtlessness? For from that time onward, she became sickly and, try as she might, could seemingly not recover her former health. From now on therefore she still was working out but always hired out as a sick girl, consequently at lower wages.

[19] She did not stay at this place much longer, and the one noteworthy thing that happened at her next place was that for the first time since she was thrown among strangers, her mistress took enough interest in her to see to it that she was warmly dressed. Be it said here to her honor that one of the first things she did was to go to the nearest town to buy suitable material from which to make for her warm under-clothing. For, unthinkable as it may seem to us in this day and age, mother up to that time had never worn underclothing. Far be it from us to smile at the thought. It was not because of economy that this was so, but rather because of the foolish notions of the age on the subject of dress for women. She was only the victim of the foolish idea that people had, viz., that women must not wear trousers. Trousers for women? Ridiculous! That was the sole privilege of man. Hence, dressed in the fashion of the day, the thought may well come to us how, exposed to every condition of weather, she even survived. However that may be, her new mistress, either more enlightened or desiring to go help her get well (assuming warm clothing could do it), provided her with underwear and dresses that were calculated to keep her body warm. Of course, this was a step in the right direction, yet she still felt sickly. She tried to get cured but always felt she could not afford to hire a doctor. Finally, however in great distress over her condition, she set out barefoot to seek advice from a certain Mrs. Heinz—an unlicensed doctor k-p—living in a Dorf [village] several miles away. She felt extremely downhearted at her hard lot, and as she walked along the way, the tears streamed from her eyes until it seemed to her that her heart must break. It proved to be a lucky thing for her, as we shall see.

As the good woman examined her, her attention was called to a peculiar growth that affected mother’s back. She at once surmised that it might be a cancer, and questioned mother about it. She had not known of it, with the exception that for some time, she had a peculiar crawling, itching sensation in that location. Mrs. Heinz therefore decided to find out definitely what it was. So she prepared a poultice of figs and applied it where she had lanced the growth, and verily she found the symptoms that indicated a living cancer! What was to be done? A licensed doctor was not at hand, nor yet did she feel able to afford the services of one. Mrs. Heinz therefore offered to perform the operation for three Rubles, which she could pay by working for her, provided she would keep it a secret (she had no license). This mother gladly agreed to do. So the operation was [20] performed by means of only a common pocketknife. And, as local anesthetics were unknown mother had to endure the pain as best she could. Blue vitriol was used to cauterize the wound, and the pain of it was well nigh unendurable. After the wound had healed, mother was instructed to watch very carefully for any symptoms that the cancer might still live. Twice after that she felt that the dread disease was still with her. Once shortly after her marriage and again years later in America, about the time that John was a babe, she thought that the cancer was again becoming active. In each case they fought and killed the disease by applying a home remedy that a good doctor by the name of Loewen had prescribed and which a friend of theirs—Mrs. Rickert—had advised them to try. It was so effective and so easy to prepare that I cannot refrain from mentioning it here. The remedy consisted of applications of fresh baked rye bread from which the crust was first removed. The crumbs or inside of the loaf, in suitably sized pieces, was then applied just as steaming hot the patient could possibly endure, and in this manner the cancer was killed in each case.

When mother was about 19 years old, she was working for people by the name of Dick who owned a saloon. She was still sickly. One day a traveling Hungarian doctor stopped there who offered to cure her. But mother felt too poor to being doctoring. She could not see her way clear and so was on the point of dismissing the proffered help when her boss, Herr Dick, interceded for her and begged the doctor to help her and to remember that she was a poor orphan girl. This touched the heartstrings of the doctor, and he at once prepared a little medicine for her, giving directions how to take it, and further prescribed good warm clothing for her and a good hot foot bath daily. She followed the directions and advice very carefully and forthwith began to feel better. In a short time she had completely recovered her former robust health. The good doctor had charged her just one Ruble. We may well imagine how happy she was.

After she had been at Dick’s for some time, her guardian decided to secure a change for her. She accordingly was next placed in the employ of a certain Hamm who owned a large distillery at Holbstadt. We should not attach any particular importance to the fact that she was working for saloonkeepers and brewers. These businesses in that country [21] and in that age were considered perfectly respectable, and the presence of girls and boys and women in these places aroused no comment—it was quite proper.

She had worked for these people for some time but had a hard time of it and so disliked it very much. It so chanced that one day her guardian, Daniel Unruh, stopped for his meals at this place. She complained to him of the rough treatment she was getting and of her desire to visit her brothers, who, since we last mentioned them, had sold out their holdings around Waldheim in the Colony and bought in the Crimea in the village of ?? The suggestions suited Mr. Unruh perfectly, and he hired her to work for him for 20 Rubles a year. He himself bought land near Friedenstein in the Crimea, as will be recalled, and needed mother’s help badly. Accordingly he took her with at once. She had acquired in some way or another, a splendid wooden chest that she valued very highly, but had to leave behind, because Unruh could not load it on his wagon. Several years later, it was sold for 20 Rubles. For the next year or so we find mother working for her guardian Herr Unruh, and it is in his house that we find her up to the day of her marriage.

Thus the days of her youth sped by. Orphaned when a mere child, she was cast upon the mercy of a cold and unjust world, to feel its sting and cruelty. How often she wept bitter tears in silence and alone! For there was no one to comfort, no one to console. Is it any wonder that she sometimes questioned why it was that she had to pass through so much suffering, why the cross of the world must weigh so heavily upon her? But He, who is, the Father of orphans and the widows’ God, had his purposes to fulfill. And now, in that blessed land up yonder, as she stands before His throne, she will understand. May it not be, that out of the fiery furnace of these hard experiences, grew that sweet temper, that gentle spirit, that kindly, sympathetic heart so quickly touched by others’ pain, that genial nature, that softness of speech, and that great love of home and family that characterized her life and fell as a gentle radiance—mellowing, softening, and soothing—upon all who came in touch with her? Although removed now from earth’s cares and woe, and safely beside the Crystal Sea, what an appeal these great qualities of her life have for us—how they plead with us and draw us onward, upward, and like beckoning hands, bid us follow after!

[22] We have now traced mother’s career up to her 22nd year, being in the employ of Daniel Unruh at Friedenstein, Crimea. Father, it will be recalled was at this same time working for his friend Penner in the same village. Here they had ample opportunity to become better acquainted with each other. Father was already past thirty, so he decided to marry this buxom lassie if he could. His suit was successful, and so on the 18th day of November 1865, they were married in the home of Mr. Daniel Unruh, preacher David Toems officiating at the marriage. With this event a new chapter in their lives was begun to which we would now direct our attention.

This long extract contains more personal information than historical references, but we can clarify a few details.

1. If you recall, Aganetha Dirks’s family lived in Waldheim; the village Gnadeheim, where she went to work upon the death of her father, was located approximately 7 miles to the west, along the road that ran from Waldheim, through Hierschau, Landskrone, and Freidensdorf, then to Gnadeheim and beyond to Alexanderwohl. Thus, although Aganetha remained relatively close to her former home, with three villages intervening, it probably seemed far away.

2. The name of her employer in Gnadeheim is remembered as Kopp, but it was presumably Gerhard and Katharina Koop of Gnadenheim 20 (see the voting list here). It is interesting to learn that, when Aganetha refused to return to work for them after a Christmas visit, her guardian Daniel Unruh did not have the authority, it seems, to impose his will upon her. Although Aganetha was only eleven, she had the right to veto his decision to have her work for the Koops.

3. Daniel Unruh’s father was also named Daniel; his mother was Anna Foth Unruh. This couple lived in Alexanderthal, which was roughly 11 miles south of Waldheim (the arrow in the lower right of the map above). GRANDMA does not record a year of death for Anna; assuming the memory above is accurate, the date was around 1855. Her husband would have been sixty-two at that time, so it makes sense that the home dissolved with the death of his wife. It seems that the elder Daniel’s son Wilhelm took over the family Wirtschaft, since he is the next one to cast a vote for Alexanderthal 19.

4. The next employer is remembered only by their name: Abrams; the employer after that is known only by reputation as a kind woman; then followed another employer known only by name: Dick (or Dyck); no locations are given for any of these individuals, and we cannot guess at the locations of even those named, since there were several Abrams families and numerous Dycks who owned land in Molotschna. The Hamm who owned a distillery in Halbstadt (not Holbstadt) is the next employer identified. The city (not village) Halbstadt was located in the northwest corner of the colony. One thing is clear: over the course of eight years Aganetha worked for seven employers in multiple locations stretching from one corner of the colony to the other. She certainly did not live a settled life.

5. Eventually Aganetha made her way to the home of her guardian, although this entailed yet another move, this one the farthest of all. Aganetha’s brothers had moved to Crimea, to a village whose name was apparently lost to our narrator’s memory. Guardian Daniel Unruh thought this a good idea and purchased land in a Crimean village named Friedenstein. This village is said to have been 30 miles north of Simferopol, which would place it where indicated on the map below, roughly in the center of the Crimean peninsula. Thus the journey from Waldheim in Molotschna colony to Friedenstein, Crimea, was approximately 140 miles.

According to Theodor Brandt and Cornelius Krahn,

Mennonites began to settle here [Crimea] soon after the Crimean War (1853–1856); probably they became acquainted with it in the course of their transportation duties for the government and preferred it to the other lands under consideration for settlement situated on the Amur in Siberia. In 1860 Mennonite land seekers looked over several possible sites, and in 1862 four villages were established, which were later followed by others. (Brandt and Krahn 1953)

We should remember that the late 1850s and early 1860s were a time of acute land shortage in the Molotschna; new households were being established all the time, and there was not enough land to meet the growing demand. As a result, many Mennonites moved to other regions within Russia, and Crimea was one prime destination. If Aganetha was twenty when she and the Unruhs moved to Crimea, that would place the move about 1862, on the leading edge of Mennonite settlement of the area.

6. This portion of the narrative ends with Aganetha Dirks and Heinrich Buller married in the home of Daniel Unruh, the ceremony performed by David Toews (presumably Toems is a mistake). 

We will continue with the family history a bit longer, to learn of the Heinrich and Aganetha’s life in the Crimea and, after several years, their voyage to a new life in a new world.

Works Cited

Brandt, Theodor, and Cornelius Krahn. 1953. Crimea (Ukraine). Global Anabaptist Mennonite Encyclopedia Online. Available online here.

Buller, William B. 1915. Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. Parker, SD: privately printed.

South Dakota Bullers 12

The previous post, the first on Aganetha Dirks, wife of Heinrich Buller, set the context for her story by introducing the members of her birth family: her father Heinrich Dirks, her mother Anna Baier, and her full siblings Benjamin, Maria, and Cornelius. William Buller, our narrator, now turns to Aganetha’s early years. It is important to remember that his mother was deceased when the family history was being collected; his father is the one recounting the story.

And now I wish to make as faithful a picture as I can of mother’s childhood, youth, and young womanhood up to the time she married father. No information is at hand as to what kind of child she was. We are led to believe, however, that she was strong and healthy and docile. Her mother died when she was only three years old. Her father married again—this time a young spend-thrifty woman who made more debts than their income warranted. Soon after, therefore; her father’s fortunes began to dwindle. There were several children by this wife, namely, Heinrich, Wilhelm, and Peter. The brother also traveled to America and lived for a time near Marion Junction, South Dakota, but moved to the State of Washington about a dozen years ago. There he lived in great need for several years, but now is said to be pretty well off.

Mother had to work hard even when a very young girl. Her schooling was deficient and very limited. Yet she learned to read and write the German language and a little arithmetic. Like father, she had to educate herself mostly alone. As already stated, her father was big and strong. This propensity had won for him the nickname of “Ox” Duerksen, and many a time did he have a test of strength with other semi-giants for which that country was famous—chief of whom was a certain “Bear” Duerksen. Like [their] father, so were the sons—strong and powerful men. Cornelius especially was a terror of the country around and dearly loved a scrap. Many were the fights he had with the country “toughs” or with the “braves” of the Russian colonists. Indeed, even mother shared this family characteristic. It is said that in her prime she would not hesitate to shoulder alone a half “tschetwet” (three bushels) of wheat and walk off with it.

[16] Unfortunately, her father died when she was only nine years old. He died very suddenly, suffering the awfulest agony, so that his tongue split wide open. A few days after, a traveling Hungarian doctor, who always visited them on his rounds, stopped there. He was greatly shocked over the sad news and claimed he could so easily have saved him from death. This happened about 1851 or 1852. Shortly after his death, his widow, wishing to marry again, sold the estate, and owing to the unrest and deplorable state of Europe, just then occasioned by the Crimean Wars, disposed of it at a great sacrifice. The property therefore that he had accumulated brought almost nothing—a paltry 2,000 Rubles. When mother became of age, she inherited about 200 Rubles of this sum.

After the death of her father, a guardian was appointed over her, and this man was Daniel Unruh. Perhaps we may interrupt this narrative just long enough to state that Unruh was an influential man in the village. He owned several firesteads near Waldheim, which, several years after the above event, he sold in order to buy more land in the newer settlements of the Crimea. He bought near the village of Friedenstein, in the Crimea where, as we shall see, fate or providence brought father and mother together. For a number of years he lived and prospered there until about 1873, when he sold out all of his holdings in order to move to America. He was indeed a rich man, taking with a fortune of about 55,000 Rubles. He was a man of keen business perception and a good judge of land. Accordingly, he made an extensive search in America for the best placed to locate, especially for poor people. With this in mind, he visited Elkhart, Indiana, and looked over the Mennonite settlements there. Similarly, in Kansas, Iowa, and Mountain Lake, Minnesota. He was not entirely satisfied with either place. The land had to be bought, and while he could afford to buy still, he was not looking out for himself alone. He wanted to find a poor man’s refuge. Finally, his attentions were directed to the free public lands offered for settlement in the Territory of South Dakota. Accordingly, he went to investigate it and found it to be the place he was looking for. He therefore settled in that rich bottom land in the County of Turner township of Childstown. I mention this here so fully because it had a very determining influence on father and mother’s career, inducing them, too, to seek their fortunes in the “land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.”

1. GRANDMA does not know the exact date of death of Aganetha’s mother, listing only about 1846. This accords with the family memory, as does the relative age of Heinrich’s second wife. Her name was Katharina Wedel, and she was apparently only three years older than Heinrich’s oldest son. The names of the children of this union, Aganetha’s half-brothers, were indeed Heinrich, Wilhelm, and Peter. The brother who emigrated to the U.S. and ended up in Washington state was Peter.

2. The image of Aganetha’s brother Cornelius as an eager brawler does not fit the typical image of the Mennonites as “the quiet in the land,” but we have no reason to doubt its accuracy. Not everyone who lived in Molotschna was gentle, meek, and mild. Even Aganetha was reputed to be strong, being able to lift and carry 3 bushels of wheat, which would weigh roughly 180 pounds.

3. According to Heinrich’s memory, Aganetha’s father died when she was nine. This would put his year of death in 1852 at the latest. GRANDMA lists his year of death as 1853. However, both of these conflict with Waldheim voting documents, which list only one Heinrich Dirks in Waldheim, whose name appears as late as the 1857 voting record (see here). It is not clear why his name appears on that year’s voting record, since Heinrich Dirks’s widow remarried on 15 August 1853. It seems that the voting record may be in error.

4. Worth noting is that the next owner of Wirtschaft 3, as recorded on the 1862 voting record (same link as above), was named Heinrich Schmidt, who was, according to GRANDMA, the person whom Heinrich Dirks’s widow married after his death. One wonders, then, about the story that the widow sold the property at a great sacrifice. Presumably there was some relation between the disposal of the property and the marriage between the two. If I recall correctly, a surviving spouse inherited half of a married couple’s assets and was required to distribute the value of the other half to the children or to a trust held for them. If this is correct and applies in this instance, then it seems plausible to think that Heinrich Schmidt paid the 2,000 rubles to acquire half-ownership of the property (this money was set aside for the children) and married Aganetha’s widowed stepmother and thus acquired the other half of Wirtschaft 3. In either case, Aganetha inherited her share of roughly 200 rubles only when she reached a certain age.

5. The same voting record referenced above reveals that Daniel Unruh resided at Waldheim 15. He apparently acquired that Wirtschaft from his father-in-law, Cornelius Wedel, between 1847 and 1850. The connection between Daniel Unruh and Cornelius Wedel perhaps explains why Daniel Unruh became Aganetha’s guardian. According to an 1839 Waldheim settlement document (here), Heinrich Dirks first resided with his uncle Cornelius Wedel, which means that these Dirks and Wedel families were related. Thus Aganetha’s guardian was related to her by marriage, having married into the Wedel family.

We encountered the name Daniel Unruh previously, when we read two posts earlier that Heinrich Buller met several kind woman riding in a carriage who insisted on giving him a ride to Waldheim. One of those women was Daniel Unruh’s wife; another was his daughter. We also read, in the same context, of the village Friedenstein in the Crimea, which is where Daniel Unruh later moved and where Heinrich Buller and Aganetha Dirks became reacquainted. But that is jumping ahead in the story, so for now we will leave it at that.

Work Cited

Buller, William B. 1915. Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. Parker, SD: privately printed.

South Dakota Bullers 11

After a two-week hiatus (work is such an annoying imposition), we resume our story of Heinrich and Agnetha Duerksen Buller. The last post ended the Heinrich portion of the account, and this post takes it the narrative with Agnetha (or Aganetha; see below). After recounting her story pre-Heinrich, we will then turn briefly to their early years together.

William Buller, our storyteller, begins his mother’s portion of the narrative as follows:

[14] And now having arrived at this point in our story, it is but meet that we devote a few words to this young woman—Aganetha Duerksen—who will from now on enter into this sketch in which she played so large a part. Unfortunately, she is no longer here to recount to us the vicissitudes of her life. We therefore again make use of father’s recollections and are let to marvel at the distinctness and vividness with which he recalls so many details of her life.

Her father’s name was Heinrich Duerksen. He was a big-hearted, kindly, although gruff, man. But not only was he a man big in heart qualities; he was physically strong and powerful as well. He was born in Poland, but came with his wife at an early date to the large Mennonite settlements called The Colony, which were situated along the River or Creek and, to be exact, then located in the Dorf or village of Waldheim. It should be stated here, perhaps, that the Russian Government had made inducements to these Mennonite Colonists to become settlers by making grants of land to them on the Crown lands, much on the same principle that the United States offers its public lands to settlers. Accordingly, Heinrich Duerksen, with his wife, settled on these Crown Lands. As head of a family he was entitled to a firestead consisting of 65 desjetins of land, equivalent to about 185 to 190 acres. They were poor, of course, but in course of time they prospered and became quite well-to-do. He was the owner of this land and, in addition, had established a treadmill, showing that he was enjoying considerable affluence. Here also he raised his family. The children by his first wife were Benjamin, Cornelius, Mary, and Aganetha. By this it will be seen that mother had three full relatives. She was the youngest and was born December 28, 1842, at the village of Waldheim, South Russia. Her brother Benjamin moved to America in May 1875 and settled north of Parker, South Dakota. After a few years he sold out here and moved with his family to North Dakota, where he died in the fall of 1903. He has a son by the name of Cornelius who lives near New Home, North Dakota.

[15] Cornelius Duerksen (mother’s brother) did not move to America but staked his fortunes in Russia. He accumulated quite a bit of property, owning several hundred desjetins of land. No definite information is at hand as to whether he is still living. One is naturally tempted to wonder how the upheaval in Europe today is affecting him and his children. Mother’s sister, Mary, was married twice. Her first husband’s name was Jacob Zelaski. After his death, she married a certain John Sperling of whom mention will again be made in the course of this story. (Buller 1915, 14–15)

1. The first question that arises is the spelling of this woman’s name. The title of the book gives it as Agnetha, but the first paragraph about her has it as Aganetha. Absent some sort of birth record, we cannot say definitively which it is, although GRANDMA agrees with the longer form. 

GRANDMA also gives the last name as Dirks, which agrees with the last name given for Aganetha’s father. As we have seen previously, an -en or -in ending was frequently added to the female form of last names. Thus Jantz became Jantzen, Buller become Bullerin, and Dirks became Dirksen, often spelled phonetically as Duerksen or Doerksen.

2. Aganetha’s father Heinrich Dirks (GM 532475) married Anna Baier (GM 532476) sometime in the early 1820s, it seems, but we know little more than that. It is thought that their first child, Benjamin, was born in 1824. William does not say when the couple first moved to Molotschna; since they do not appear on the 1835 census (the Heinrich Johann Dirks living at Alexanderthal 11 is someone else), it was presumably sometime after that.

3. William Buller’s wording appears to indicate that the couple’s first residence in Molotschna was in the village Waldheim, which is well known to us as the home first of Benjamin Buller, then later his son David. If you recall, Waldheim was founded in 1838, and we do find a Heinrich Dirks among the first settlers (see here). By combining the information from three separate reports, we can identify this person further as Heinrich Johann Dirks. This is not the person mentioned above who was living in Alexanderthal in 1835, since that Heinrich Johann Dirks still lived in Alexanderthal in 1847 (see the voting list here). 

What this means is that, assuming the veracity of the family story, the Heinrich Dirks who settled in Waldheim in 1839 was almost certainly Aganetha’s father. We can then specify further that the family lived at Wirtschaft 3, as recorded in the voting records from 1847, 1850, and 1857 (see here). Beyond that, we now know the name of Heinrich’s father: Johann. The GRANDMA record can be expanded on that point [incorrect sentence about the year of Heinrich’s death removed].

4. The description of the family’s prosperity is reasonable, since they were part of the land-owning class. The treadmill mentioned was used to grind grain into flour. There were primarily two means of powering the grinding mechanism: running water, such as a stream; and animal power. Heinrich’s flour-grinding business relied on the latter. For more information on treadmills of that period, see the article and photographs here. 

5. William’s account of the four children of Heinrich and Anna agrees with GRANDMA’s listing for the family. As stated, Aganetha was the youngest of Heinrich’s first family, being born 28 December 1842. Further, her older brother Benjamin did emigrate to South Dakota and settle in Turner County, where Aganetha and Heinrich would put down roots a few months later. The figure below shows both where Benjamin settled (note the Dirksen Wedel section to the left) and his son Cornelius, who was mentioned above, and daughter-in-law Elisabeth (see further here).

In the mid-1880s Benjamin Dirks resettled in North Dakota, apparently part of a group of former Mennonite Brethren who had converted to Seventh-Day Adventism. This is an intriguing story that deserves its own telling someday.

6. According to GRANDMA, Aganetha’s other brother, Cornelius (GM 511922), was still alive when William wrote this account. He passed away 30 July 1921 in Biyuk-Busau, Crimea. 

7. GRANDMA also agrees that her sister Mary (GM 527840) was married twice, although it gives the last name of her first husband as Delesky instead of Zelaski. Apparently Mary never emigrated to North America either, and she also appears to have spent her last days in the Crimea as well.

Now that most of the key people have been introduced, William will proceed to narrate what he can about his mother’s early life. We will pick up his story there in the next post.

Work Cited

Buller, William B. 1915. Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. Parker, SD: privately printed.

South Dakota Bullers 10

At the end of the previous post Heinrich Buller found himself without either parent and in search of a trade that would sustain him. We pick up the story there.

[10] About this time, a distant relative of his—a-kind-hearted woman—offered to lend him fifteen Rubles to pay his way to Russia. He hesitated to take the offer but finally did so and came to a village of Mennonites called Gnadenfeld (in the Colony beside the Molotschnia River). Here again he picked up a new trade, and this time it was blacksmithing because this business offered the best wages. Father had, as we can see from the above, passed through a period of great unrest and changeableness. He had in fact changed trades so often in the course of a few years that people were beginning to lose faith in him. They frankly told him that they did not like his vacillations and lack of stability. This work from the mischievous Dame called “Rumor” made it quite hard for him to get a job and to keep it. Nevertheless, he was lucky enough at last to find employment with the blacksmith and for several years he worked steadily at the trade and, as times were then, made good headway.

A cousin of father’s by the good name of Peter was also a blacksmith and lived at the village of Alexanderwohl. He had gained quite a bit of local notoriety as a mechanic of  outstanding merit, and the whole village was sounding his praise. Having had repeated invitations from this distinguished relative to come over and pay him a visit, father at last decided to do so. No sooner had he arrived here than his ears were filled with the praise of his worthy kinsman, seasoned, of course, with many a fulsome joke at his expense. The universal opinion of the little village was, of course, that Peter the Great was incomparable and had father so badly outdistanced (bested) as a blacksmith that he stood in a class by himself. Father may have felt a good bit of chagrin over this incident, but in any case (despite a fiery disposition) controlled his temper well. The fullness with which he related the incident leads me to believe that he must have smarted a good deal under this scoffing. However, to be short, father visited the shop, found his cousin busily at work and his boss looking on with evident satisfaction. A casual scrutiny of some of the work that aforesaid Peter had finished satisfied father that he could [11] teach him a good many things as an artisan at the anvil and forge. For courtesy’s sake, however, he refrained from any disparaging remarks; in fact, he had only words of approbation, disingenuous though they were. All would no doubt have passed off in this quiet manner had not Peter’s boss in a voice of exultation called on him to offer some criticism if he dared. This public challenge was more than father could stand, and he proceeded to lay bare all the weak points of his cousin’s workmanship. It so chanced that a wagon stood finished in the shop. Bit by bit he went over that job, pointing out here and there all the mistakes of construction—the flimsy work and crudeness of it all. “If that is the meaning of your words,” said father to Peter’s boss, “that I’m to play the part of critic here, then my is attitude altogether a different one from that of a friendly visitor,” and with that remark he went over the whole wagon with the eye of a critic, calling attention first to the wheel, the tire of which the unlucky Peter had made somewhat too loose over the felloes so that at full many a place the daylight peeped through between tire and felloe. “But,” he said, “this is not the only slipshod piece of workmanship. Look for a minute at the tire itself…,” and with that he called attention to the weld of the tire. Here cousin Peter had drawn out the iron to half the normal thickness of the tire, making it not only the weakest spot but also most rude and amateurish in appearance. He then proceeded to tell them how he made tires and how he made them fit tight and solid upon the felloes—methods which even to this day are practiced by village blacksmiths all over, showing that they were based on sound principles.

It would be quite impossible to enumerate all the details to which he called attention. Suffice it to say that under his direction, many a feature stood out plainly, which offended common sense, and were quite ridiculous in shoddy workmanship. It was evident that the master workman of this shop had little or no sense of proportion or of symmetry. Thus, for instance, he had made a kingbolt so light and thin that the first unusual strain would be sure to break it. Then, too, he had equipped it with so small a head that it was only a matter of time before it would wear its way through the wood and cause extreme annoyance to the luckless owner. Then, too, at all points where rivets were used, they said Peter had evidently paid little attention to either looks or utility. For instance, he had used rivets with small heads indiscriminately by the side of those [12] with large heads; or again, he offended in another direction by using rivets that were obviously too long, consequently he had to bend them into the woodwork when he hammered the ends. Evidences of this flagrant abuse were easily found all over, and it goes without saying that father exposed all of them to the onlookers.

I have given this little story with considerable detail, not only because it shows how he could vindicate himself when called upon to do so, but also because it well illustrates what a careful workman he himself was. He was slower on this account than other workmen, but his work was done with a thoroughness and neatness that displayed an artistic temperament. His work he always guaranteed. His methods were, of course, not the kind that was calculated to enrich his pockets but rather to give satisfaction to customers. He believed in doing a thing well above everything else. So in his field, he was an artist to whom a crude job always gained pain.

For several years more father plied his trade, but then followed a series of poor crops, which necessarily affected his business much. It began to be increasingly hard for him to make a living at it. So finally he hired out to a man for 100 Rubles per year to do jobwork for him. This new-found boss was a surly, fault-finding man and often abused father. Now father always had as one of his assets a considerable store of temper. So it happened that he could not forever stand this abuse but finally resented it with the inevitable result that he lost his job. On the same day, however, another man came and hired him. His job was to make buggy springs. The material to be used was so poor that, try as he would, he had no success in making them, and, of course, once more he lost his job.

After this he worked by month or day just as it chanced and at any job that offered itself. Again the country suffered from poor crops, and so in the fall of the year he went with a friend by the name of Daniel Penner (a compatriot from Poland) to Fidosia in the Crimea of Russia), or to be exact, to a place about 25 Werst (15–18 miles) from this town (village of Friedenstein, Crimea), where he again hired out as a blacksmith and labored several years. Here, too, he met the young woman whom he afterwards married—Aganetha Duerksen. He had met her four or five years previously at the home of her [13] brother Benjamin Duerksen. That, however, was entirely a chance meeting, as the following incident will show.

It is a custom practiced through Europe that the labor year dates from about the middle of November each year. All employers of laborers, who hire out for year, hire their men at that time, after which the laborers have one week in which they can do as they please—sort of a “labor week” akin to our “labor-day”—which often was spent in visiting or relaxation. After this period of relaxation, they once more have to begin to work for their masters. This week is called “Mateen.” It was this time of year, about 1861, that father had been at work for a man at Alexanderthal but had just hired out for two years to a certain Kroeker who owned a blacksmith shop at Landskron. Before beginning to work for this man, he decided to visit his old friend Karl Penner who lived at Gnadenfeld. He spent several days there and then on a nice Sunday set out on foot to walk over to Landskron to put in his appearance. Accordingly, having all his extra clothing tied in a bandana handkerchief, he was on his way when all at once he noticed a carriage driving up. They met, and to his surprise he found that they were old acquaintances. They were three women: Mrs. Dan Unruh (?), her daughter, and another woman. Friendly greetings were exchanged, and they insisted he should accompany them to the village of Waldheim. He protested, explaining that he was not acquainted there, but to no avail. So he drove along with them, and when they arrived at Waldheim, they drove up to the house of Benjamin Duerksen. As already noted above, Aganetha was staying there at the time, and so an acquaintance was made that several years later ended in matrimony.

1. We have encountered Gnadenfeld before, as the Molotschna village founded in 1835 by a group of Mennonites primarily from Neumark but also from Deutsch Wymsyle (see, e.g., here and here). Being from Deutsch Wymsyle, Heinrich went there first when arriving in Molotschna. Gnadenfeld (see further here) was located roughly 11 miles east–southeast of Alexanderwohl and about 4 miles south of Waldheim.

2. The reference to a cousin by the name of Peter in the village of Alexanderwohl is intriguing. Of course, the cousin—assuming a first cousin is meant—could have been from Heinrich’s mother’s side (perhaps a Goertz) or his father’s side (thus a Buller). We know of no Peter Goertz in Alexanderwohl, but there were at least two Peter Bullers in the village at that time. Presumably one of them is meant.

3. Blacksmiths in that day no doubt worked on a variety of metal objects, but this story focuses on wheel construction. In evaluating Peter’s Buller’s workmanship, Heinrich’s account mentions two parts of a wheel that might not be familiar. We can all, I suspect, identify the hub in the center and the spokes radiating out from the hub. The wooden piece to which the outside ends of the spokes attach was the felloe (or fellow or felly). The tire, which we generally think of as rubber today, was the other metal ring that not only held the whole together but also made contact with the ground; metal is obviously more durable than wood, which is why it was used on wheels.

Because Peter’s blacksmithing talent was in his metalwork, Heinrich’s evaluation focused on two problems with the metal tire: the tire was not tight around the felloes, and one could see daylight between the two; the tire was not uniform in thickness, being half the usual thickness in places, which would lead it to wear thin much more quickly than it should.

By kingbolt Heinrich presumably means the bolt that holds the chassis (or center beam) of a wagon carriage to the front axle and enables the wagon’s front wheels to be turned. One certainly would not want a bolt too slender to bear the strain it would constantly face.

Heinrich’s criticism or Peter’s work went beyond structural issues and encompassed aesthetics as well. According to the account, Peter used large and small rivets indiscriminately, with no concern about how the finished product appeared.

4. The port town of Feodosia (Fidosia above) is located on the southeast cost of Crimea; the village to which Heinrich and Daniel Penner went, Friedenstein, was located 15–18 miles to the west. I find mention of Mennonites from this village in various sources, but further information about the village (e.g., its precise location) is unavailable. The map below shows the relation between Molotschna (top arrow) and Feodosia in Crimea (bottom arrow).

5. The final paragraph goes back in time a few years and is dated to circa 1861. If correct, Heinrich would have been around twenty-seven years old. The villages Alexanderthal and Landskrone were both in Molotschna: the former in the extreme southeast of the colony and the latter in the center of the colony on the road that linked Alexanderwohl and Waldheim. As the story goes, Heinrich had been working in Alexanderthal but was taken a new job with someone in Landskrone. The path from Alexanderthal to Landskrone led through Gnadenfeld, so he stopped there for a visit, then set out on foot to Landskrone to start his new job. On the way, he was kindly given a ride in a carriage to the village of Waldheim, where he first met his future wife: Aganetha Duerksen.

So ends the Heinrich portion of the story, so the following post will turn to Aganetha’s story as told by Heinrich.

Work Cited

Buller, William B. 1915. Life Story of Heinrich Buller and His Wife Agnetha Duerksen Buller. Parker, SD: privately printed.