I have before spoken of the congregation that I visited not far from Kaiserslautern, and of its preacher, who received a salary of about one hundred and eighty dollars. I met the preacher there and at his own dwelling, and he gave me a list, published in 1881, of the Mennonite congregations in Germany, Galicia, Poland, and Russia. Why those in Holland are not included I do not understand. Others are omitted, for the preface says, “We are sorry that we have not received any information concerning the small congregations found in Switzerland, as well as those in Alsace and Lorraine.” As far as my own observation goes, the number of Mennonites in Germany is not large. In Holland the number given in Appleton’s Cyclopædia is over forty-four thousand in the year 1869. Of those in Russia, the number mentioned in the list which was presented to me (published in 1881) is about forty thousand. But a private letter from a Mennonite editor estimates that fifteen thousand Russian Mennonites have come to this country, and that, as there were about forty thousand in Russia in 1870, only about twenty-five thousand are left there. The editor mentions that they have settled here in Kansas, Nebraska, Dakota, Minnesota, and Manitoba.
THE DUNKER LOVE-FEAST.
On the morning of the 25th of September, 1871, I took the cars of the Pennsylvania Central Railroad for the borough of Mount Joy, in the northwest part of this county of Lancaster. Finding no public conveyance thence to the village of C., I obtained from my landlord a horse and buggy and an obliging driver, who took me four or five miles, for two dollars. We took a drive round by the new Dunker meeting-house, which is a neat frame building,—brown, picked out with white window-frames. Behind it is a wood, upon which the church-doors open, instead of upon the highway.
We heard here that the meeting would not begin till one o’clock on the next day. Some of the brethren were at the church, however, with their teams, having brought provisions, straw, and bedding. We went into the neat meeting-room, and above into the garret, where straw was being laid down. A partition ran down the middle, and upon the women’s side a small room had also been divided from the rest, wherein were one or two bedsteads and the inevitable cradle. The basement had a hard earthen floor, and was divided into dining-room, kitchen, and cellar. Upon spacious shelves in the cellar a brother and sister were placing food. Many large loaves of bread were there. The sister was taking pies from a great basket, and bright coffee-pots stood upon the kitchen-table.
All here seemed to speak “Dutch,” but several talked English with me. They seemed surprised that I had come so far as twenty-three miles in order to attend the meeting. One remarked that it was no member that had put the notice of the meeting which I had seen into the paper. Others, however, seemed interested, although by my dress it was very plain that I was not of the brotherhood.
I found C. a neat place of about a dozen houses, and we drove to the only tavern. The landlady was young and pleasant, but she could speak little English. She was quite sociable, however, and thought that she could teach me “Dutch” and I her English. By means of some German on my part, we got along tolerably together. She took me to a good chamber, and began removing from it some of their best clothing. Showing me two sun-bonnets, one of them made of black silk, she said, “It is the fashion.” “The fashion?” said I. “Yes; the fashion for married women.” This was, doubtless, the Dunker influence even among those not members.
Being at leisure in the afternoon, I walked to an ancient Moravian church in the neighborhood, with the landlady’s little daughter,—a pretty child.
Her mother said, “Geh mit der aunty:” so she went with her adopted relative.
“Do you speak English?” I said to the little one.