Mass grave legend tells story of immigrants' perseverance
Staff writer
A stone marker flanked by two benches marks a quiet spot in Florence's Hillside Cemetery.
The marker notes it is the final resting place of 300 Russian-Mennonite immigrants who died during a smallpox epidemic in January 1875.
Local legend, passed down from generation to generation, says 300 died. But whether or not there are actually 300 people buried at the site is one of history's mysteries.
Hillside Cemetery records were long kept in Florence City Hall. However, when the building burned, the records were lost.
"We know there were a number of Mennonites who had smallpox while in Florence and passed away," explained Florence resident Les Allison. "I couldn't say for sure there were 300 people who died, but there was a smallpox problem."
But the story isn't how many may or may not have died of smallpox. After all, untimely death was a fact of life back then.
The real story is the deplorable conditions a group of destitute immigrants faced while trying to find their version of the American dream.
The marker
From the late 1800s until 1987, a small headstone was the only visible evidence of the hardship which occurred 130 years ago.
A carved bear provided the focal point for the simple stone. Likewise, the inscription etched into the stone was simple:
"Lelah M daughter of L.A. and L.M. Kirgan."
The stone memorialized the loss of a daughter, but according to Florence folklore it was the mass grave site of those ill-fated immigrants.
Back in the mid — 1980s, Teeny Williams — then serving as a Florence city council member — was in charge of the cemetery and parks.
"There was a little stone in the northwest corner of the cemetery which was quickly deteriorating," Williams recently recalled while visiting at her Marion County Lake home. "It was for a little child."
Williams said the late Mae Evelyn Kolodziejczak, secretary and historian of Florence Historical Society, was determined to place a large headstone marking the mass grave site.
"But Mae Evelyn died of a heart attack before the project got started," Williams explained. "However, funds were donated in her memory and were used to build the memorial.
"The memorial was Mae Evelyn's dream," Williams added.
By 1987, the Florence Historical Society had installed a marker and two benches at the site.
Williams then went on to research and record the history of Hillcrest Cemetery, established in 1871.
Working on the project, Williams said she realized how far the field of medicine had advanced since the 19th century.
"People seldom lived past the age of 40 and so many women died in child birth," Williams wrote in a 1987 article. "A complete family of children were wiped out in a measle epidemic and one little boy even died of a broken leg."
Williams said she considers her cemetery research to be "the experience of a lifetime."
"It's a story which makes you happy to live in this day and age," Williams said.
Delving into history
Back in the fall of 1965, Florence native Leslie "Les" Allison was a student at Kansas State University. As part of an assignment for a history of Kansas class he chronicled the history of the ill-fated Russian immigrants in a research paper.
A descendant of a Florence pioneer family, Allison used family letters, old newspapers, and other documents to provide his research.
"I live in the stone house which was built by my great-great grandfather," Allison explained. "We are lucky enough to have quite a collection of letters which have been preserved for posterity."
It was one of those letters — written in January 1875 — which spurred Allison's interest in the mass grave legend.
The letter, written by A.N. Allison to her sister, commented on the harsh weather conditions Florence area residents were experiencing in January 1875.
"The weather is very disagreeable now for it is raining and it freezes as fast as it falls and it forms a sleet which is very hard on the stock," A.N. Allison wrote.
"The bad winter has killed most of our gooseberries and currant bushes
The same letter also notes the suffering experienced by a group of Mennonite immigrants.
"There is in Florence about Three Hundred Russians and they have got the smallpox," the letter continued. "We have had our children vaccinated and it makes them look kind of pale."
Intrigued by that comment in his ancestor's letter, Les Allison decided to embark on a quest for the truth.
As part of his research back in the 1960s, Allison spent time visiting with John F. Schmidt of Bethel College Historical Library in North Newton.
"He (Schmidt) went through lots of letters and correspondence which were written in German and translated it," Allison recalled.
Chronicling the story of the ill-fated immigrant party, Allison noted they were not Russians, but Dutch. They had originally moved from Holland to Prussia and later to southern Russia after being encouraged to settle there by Russian Czarina Catherine the Great.
However, by 1870 the Russian government made military service mandatory — even for Mennonites. Due to this law and other circumstances, "emigration seemed essential" Allison wrote.
"America seemed perfect: as yet there was no compulsary military service, the Homestead laws had been passed which granted 180 acres per person, and the government and railroad also had land for sale," the paper notes.
Several organizations were created by the American Mennonite Church to help pay the cost of traveling to America. A board of guardians was formed to provide financial and other assistance to needy Mennonite immigrants from Russia. The Mennonite Executive Aid Committee was set up to oversee all immigration and provide assistance to incoming Mennonites. Also, many states had local aid committees.
Tobias Unruh, a church leader in Russia, encouraged his members — about 500 people — to come to America. They boarded the steamer Vaterland and arrived in Philadelphia on Dec. 25, 1874. These immigrants were very poor and could not even buy bread to eat.
Arrangements were made to house the people in Pennsylvania until spring, but the entire group left for Kansas "despite the fact that in the new settlements
The people were brought to Kansas because "they already had tickets, bought in Antwerp, to come all the way to Kansas." They also were advised by the Pennsylvania Aid Committee to go to Kansas.
"This move caused much discomfort and bad fortune for these 90 families," Les Allison wrote.
The immigrants ended up in Hutchinson because the individuals transporting them had "received a letter from the mayor stating that Hutchinson would be glad to house them."
That, however, was not the case, according to a letter dated Dec. 28, 1874, written by Bernhard Warkentin, a leader behind the immigration of untold numbers of Mennonites to Kansas.
Warkentin wrote to the Mennonite Board of Guardians that the people of Hutchinson "do not want to receive the families in their present conditions under any circumstances."
Warkentin noted he had purchased enough bread and groceries to feed the immigrants until the relief committee could take over "if only the town would let us use its buildings," the letter said.
However, Hutchinson leaders would not relent. Apparently they felt there was "enough people in their town already that need to be supported and they will therefore accept no responsibility for these people."
Warkentin's letter continued, "Hutchinson has sent a telegram to Topeka and expects the railroad company to take the people back to Topeka and put them up there."
Apparently, when the Hutchinson City Council found out how poor the Mennonites were a meeting was held to get rid of them "and only after the pleadings of the mayor, Mr. Hutchinson, did they agree to keep them until shelter elsewhere could be found," Allison discovered in his research.
Luckily for the immigrants, the Santa Fe Railroad mediated on "behalf of the families" and the "Hutchonians soon decided to let the people move into the empty houses," according to another of Warkentin's letters to the board of guardians.
Warkentin ordered 700 loaves of bread and that an ox be butchered to provide meat, He also sent 6,000 pounds of flour "so each family may bake its own bread."
Warkentin's letter noted the people were comfortable, warm, and had enough to eat, but questioned what would happen next.
He implored, "now is the time to demonstrate willingness for sacrifice and show Christian charity
The letter further noted, "The weather seems to be getting colder."
Santa Fe Railroad did its best and by Jan. 11 moved the immigrants free of charge from Hutchinson to Florence in boxcars.
The first trainload of 300 immigrants arrived in Florence at 1:30 a.m. on a Monday night. There was a strong northeast wind and the temperature was 14 degrees below zero, according to Allison's research. The immigrants spent the night in the frigid boxcars because "they did not know who to contact to show them their quarters."
The following day — a Tuesday — the immigrants moved into their makeshift homes, "seven store buildings and five houses."
In subsequent weeks, the immigrants lived on the "minimum existence level," Allison noted.
Within just a couple of weeks after settling in at Florence, smallpox was reported among the immigrant population.
A letter in the Warkentin collection tells of a case of smallpox that ends in death and of "four children dead from hunger fever and six others sick from various other causes," according to Allison's research.
"The story of the smallpox epidemic grew from this," Allison explained during a recent interview. "I don't even know if there is a mass grave."
Finally, help arrived to help the destitute immigrants, according to Allison's research. The railroad brought provisions for just the cost of fuel. The local aid committee helped provide the necessities; the Mennonite Board of Guardians sent $500 from its treasury; Mennonites in Pennsylvania appropriated $1,600 for relief, and a committee from a church in Summerfield, Ill., collected $300 and "took it to Kansas in person."
Allison said he was amazed by the role the church played in members' lives.
"I remember being very impressed with the whole concept of the Mennonite Central Committee," Allison said. "These people's whole lives revolved around the church."
As time went on, the Mennonite Executive Aid Committee of Pennsylvania received requests for $160,000 in loans. However, the organization's money had initially been intended to pay for passage across the ocean to America and provisions — if necessary — and the tap was running dry.
"So the American Mennonite Church advised immigrants who had money not to buy large acreages or to make large down payments." The thought was that if they kept a minimal amount for their current needs, but then loaned the rest to their own poor, all would benefit."
Allison said the advice was good and eventually the immigrants pulled themselves out of the crisis situation and were able to establish successful communities — many which continue to exist today.
Allison concluded his research with words from a letter written from a Board of Guardians committee in the spring of 1875. Williams and members of the Florence Historical Society used the same words on the 1987 memorial.
"We work with one goal in mind; namely that of helping each other so that we may be worthy of God's call and not hinder his work. We hope that a burning fire of love will be our protection, and a strength of unity."
