Peter Miller, whom we are now quoting, was one of the most remarkable men

that joined the Ephrata Baptists. He was born in the Palatinate, and is

said to have been educated at Heidelberg. He came to this country when

about twenty years old. He is mentioned, it seems, in an interesting

letter of the Rev. Jedediah Andrews, under date of Philadelphia, 1730,

which letter may be found in Hazard’s Register. He says that there are

“in this province a vast number of Palatines. Those that have come

of late years are mostly Presbyterian, or, as they call themselves,

Reformed, the Palatines being about three-fifths of that sort of people.”

Mr. Andrews says, in substance, “There is lately come over a Palatine

candidate for the ministry, who applied to us at the Synod for

ordination. He is an extraordinary person for sense and learning. His

name is John Peter Miller,[56] and he speaks Latin as readily as we do

our vernacular tongue.”[57]

Peter Miller, in one of his letters, speaks of his baptism (or

rebaptism) in the year 1735. He says at that time the solitary brethren

and sisters lived dispersed “in the wilderness of Canestogues, each

for himself, as hermits, and I following that same way did set up my

hermitage in Dulpehakin [Tulpehocken], at the foot of a mountain, on a

limpid spring; the house is still extant [1790], with an old orchard.

There did I lay the foundation of solitary life.[58]

“However,” he continues, “I had not lived there half a year, when a great

change happened; for a camp was laid out for all solitary persons, at

the very spot where now Ephrata stands, and where at that same time the

president [Beissel] lived with some hermits. And now, when all hermits

were called in, I also quitted my solitude, and changed the same for a

monastic life; which was judged to be more inservient to sanctification

than the life of a hermit, where many under a pretence of holiness did

nothing but nourish their own selfishness.... We were now, by necessity,

compelled to learn obedience.... At that time, works of charity hath been

our chief occupation.[59]

“Canestogues was then a great wilderness, and began to be settled by poor

Germans, which desired our assistance in building houses for them; which

not only kept us employed several summers in hard carpenter’s work, but

also increased our poverty so much that we wanted even things necessary

for life.”

He also says, “When we settled here, our number was forty brethren, and

about so many sisters, all in the vigor and prime of their ages, never

before wearied of social life, but were compelled, ... with reluctance of

our nature, to select this life.”[60]

It was, it seems, about the same time that Miller was baptized that the

midnight meetings were held at the camp, “for the purpose of awaiting the

coming of judgment.”

Not long after the building of the meeting-house called Kedar (says

Endress), a widower, Sigmund Lambert, having joined the camp, built out

of his own means an addition to the meeting-house and a dwelling for

Beissel. Another gave all his property to the society, and now Kedar was

transformed into a sister-convent, and a new meeting-house was erected.

Soon after 1738 a large house for the brethren was built, called Zion,

and the whole camp was named Ephrata.[61] The solitary life was changed

into the conventual one; Zion was called a kloster, or convent, and put

under monastic rules. Onesimus (Eckerlin) was appointed prior, and Conrad

Beissel named father. (His general title appears to be _vorsteher_,

superintendent or principal.)

It was probably about this time, or earlier, that the constable entered

the camp, according to Miller, and demanded the single man’s tax. Some

paid, but some refused. Miller says that some claimed personal immunity

on the ground that they were not inferior to the monks and hermits in

the Eastern country, who supplied the prisons in Alexandria with bread,

and who were declared free of taxes by Theodosius the Great and other

emperors. But these Ephrata brethren were not to be thus exempted. Six

lay in prison at Lancaster ten days, when they were released on bail of a

“venerable old justice of peace.” When the brethren appeared before the

board of assessment, the gentlemen who were their judges saw six men who

in the prime of their ages had been reduced to skeletons by penitential

works. The gentlemen granted them their freedom on condition that they

should be taxed as one family for their real estate, “which is still

in force (1790), although these things happened fifty years ago.” (See

Miller’s letters in Hazard’s Register.)

A monastic dress was adopted by the brethren and sisters, resembling that

of the Capuchins.[62]

The Chronicle, published in 1786, speaks of the sisters as having

carefully maintained the dress of the order for nearly fifty years. About

the same date we read of Miller in his cowl.

It appears from the Chronicle that the other members of the society

at one time adopted a similar dress, but that the celibates (_die

Einsamen_) appeared at worship in white dresses, and the other members

(_die Hausstände_) in gray ones. The secular members, however, “saddled

themselves again” and conformed to the world in clothing and in other

things.

In an article upon Ephrata in Hazard’s Register, vol. v., 1830, will be

found the statement that, thirty or forty years before, the Dunkers were

occasionally noticed in Philadelphia (when they came down with produce),

with long beards and Capuchin habiliments; but this statement does not

seem to agree in date with that of the Chronicle, if these were secular

brethren.

Among the austerities practised at Ephrata formerly, was sleeping upon a

bench with a block of wood for a pillow.[63]

The late Dr. William Fahnestock tells us that these and other austerities

were not intended for penance, but were undertaken from economy. Their

circumstances were very restricted, and their undertaking was great. They

studied the strictest simplicity and economy. For the Communion they used

wooden flagons, goblets, and trays. The plates from which they ate were

thin octagonal pieces of poplar board, their forks and candlesticks were

of wood, and every article that could be made of that substance was used

by the whole community.

Rupp says that the chimneys, which remain in use to this day (1844), are

of wood; and the attention of the present writer was called in 1872 to

wooden door-hinges.

Rupp says also that they all observed great abstemiousness in their diet;

they were vegetarians, and submitted to many privations and to a rigid

discipline exerted over them by a somewhat austere spiritual father.

Peter Miller himself says that he stood under Beissel’s direction for

thirty years, and that it was as severe as any related in the Romish

Church (but this sounds exaggerated).

In the brother- and sister-houses, it has been stated that six

dormitories surrounded a common room in which the members of each

subdivision pursued their respective employments. “Each dormitory was

hardly large enough to contain a cot, a closet, and an hour-glass.”[64]

Of the industries established at Ephrata, one of Peter Miller’s letters

gives us a good idea. He complains, as before mentioned, of Eckerlin’s

obliging them to interfere so far in worldly things, and that money was

put out at interest. He adds that they erected a grist-mill, with three

pairs of stones; a saw-mill, paper-mill, oil-mill, and fulling-mill; had

besides three wagons with proper teams, a printing-office, and sundry

other trades.

He adds, “Our president [by whom he means Beissel] never meddled with

temporal things.”

Mr. Rupp (who cites the Life of Rittenhouse) says that the women were

employed in spinning, knitting, sewing, making paper lanterns and

other toys. A room was set apart for ornamental writing, called “Das

Schreibzimmer,” and “several sisters,” it has been said, devoted their

whole attention to this labor, as well as to transcribing the writings

of the founder of the society; thus multiplying copies before they had a

press. But the press appears to have been early established, and it was

the second German one in our State. It has been stated that Miller was at

one time the printer.[65]

Among the books published at Ephrata were some of Beissel’s, who had

adopted the name of Peaceful (_Friedsam_). One of their publications was

a collection of hymns, and was entitled “The Song of the Solitary and

Abandoned Turtle Dove, namely, the Christian Church, ... by a Peaceful

Pilgrim travelling towards Quiet Eternity.” Ephrata, from the press of

the Fraternity, 1747. 500 pages, quarto.[66]

Beissel also wrote a dissertation on man’s fall, of which Miller says

(1790), “When, in the late war, a marquis from Milan, in Italy, lodged

a night in our convent, I presented to him the said dissertation, and

desired him to publish it at home, and dedicate it to his Holiness.”

In 1748, a stupendous book was published by the society at Ephrata. It

is the Martyr’s Mirror, in folio, of which copies may be seen at the

libraries of the Pennsylvania Historical Society, and of the German

Society, in Philadelphia.

The Chronicon Ephratense, or Ephrata Chronicle, so often alluded to in

this article, was also from their press, but was published thirty-eight

years later. It contains the life of Beissel, under the title of the

venerable “Father in Christ, Peaceful Godright (_Friedsam Gottrecht_),

late founder and _vorsteher_ of the Spiritual Order of the Solitary

(_Einsamen_) in Ephrata, collected by Brothers Lamech and Agrippa.” I

have heard of several copies being still extant,—one in Lancaster County,

one in Montgomery, and one in the library of the Historical Society at

Philadelphia. The last I have been allowed to consult.

In speaking of the occupations practised at Ephrata, it may be permitted

to include music. Beissel is said to have been an excellent musician

and composer. “There was another transcribing-room,” says Fahnestock,

“appropriated to copying music. Hundreds of volumes, each containing

five or six hundred pieces, were transferred from book to book, with as

much accuracy, and almost as much neatness, as if done with the graver.”

In composing music, Beissel is said to have taken his style from nature.

“The singing is the Æolian harp harmonized.... Their music is set in

four, six, and eight parts.”

Morgan Edwards[67] (as cited in Day’s Historical Collections) says,

“Their singing is charming,—partly owing to the pleasantness of their

voices, the variety of parts they carry on together, and the devout

manner of performance.” This style of singing is said by Rupp (1844) to

be entirely lost at Ephrata, but to be preserved in a measure at Snow

Hill, in Franklin County. Fahnestock, who was himself a Seventh-Day

Baptist (or _Siebtaeger_), gives a very enthusiastic account of the

singing at Snow Hill. It may be found in Day’s Historical Collections,

article “Franklin County.”[68]

In addition to the various industries which claimed the attention of the

community, there must not be forgotten the care of their landed estate.

It has been said that they bought about two hundred and fifty acres of

land.[69]

A very large tract was once offered to them by one of the Penns, but they

refused it. I was told at Ephrata that they were “afraid they would get

too vain.”

Count Zinzendorf, the celebrated Moravian bishop, came to Pennsylvania

in 1741. At one time he visited Ephrata, and was entertained in the

convent, where his friendly behavior was very agreeable to the brothers.

(We may suppose that Miller, and Eckerlin, who was not yet deposed, were

men fit to entertain him.) He also expressed a wish to see Beissel. This

was made known to the latter, who answered, after a little reflection,

that Zinzendorf was no wonder to him, but if he himself were a wonder to

Zinzendorf, he must come to him (or as it seems, to Beissel’s own house).

Zinzendorf was now in doubt what to do, but he turned away and left

without seeing the father (_vorsteher_). The Chronicle adds that thus did

two great lights of the church meet as on the threshold, and yet neither

ever saw the other in his life.

The Moravians also erected brother- and sister-houses, but they were not

monastic institutions.[70]

Dissension arose at one time between some of the brethren of the Ephrata

Society and Count Zinzendorf, at a conference held by the latter at Oley,

now in Berks County. Zinzendorf seems to have desired to unite some of

the sects with which Pennsylvania was so abundantly supplied. But the

solitary brethren (of Ephrata) were so suspicious of the thing that they

would no longer unite with it. They had prepared a writing upon marriage,

how far it is from God, and that it was only a praiseworthy ordinance of

nature. This they presented, whereupon there arose a violent conflict in

words.

The ordinarius (Zinzendorf) said that he was by no means pleased with

this paper; his marriage had not such a beginning; his marriage stood

higher than the solitary life in Ephrata. The Ephrata delegates strove to

make all right again, and spoke of families in their society who had many

children.[71]

But Zinzendorf left his seat as chairman, ... and at last the conference

came to an end, all present being displeased.[72]

About this date (or about 1740) took place the formation of the

Sabbath-school, by Ludwig Hoecker, called Brother Obed.[73] He was a

teacher in the secular school at Ephrata,—a school which seems to have

enjoyed considerable reputation. The Sabbath-school (held on Saturday

afternoon) is said to have been kept up over thirty years. This was begun

long before the present Sunday-school system was introduced by Robert

Raikes. (American Cyclopædia, article _Dunkers_.)

Not long after the visit of Zinzendorf, or about 1745, occurred the

deposition of Eckerlin, the prior Onesimus. In one of his letters, Miller

says (1790), “Remember, we have lost our first prior and the sisters

their first mother ... because they stood in self-elevation, and did

govern despotically;” and adds, “the desire to govern is the last thing

which dies within a man.” (It seems probable that Eckerlin has not

received sufficient credit, however, for the pecuniary success of the

infant community.)

Some ten years after his deposition (or in 1755), began the old French

and Indian war. Fahnestock tells us that the doors of the cloister,

including the chapels, etc., were opened as a refuge for the inhabitants

of Tulpehocken and Paxton[74] settlements, which were then the frontiers,

to protect the people from the incursions of the hostile Indians. He adds

that all these refugees were received and kept by the society during the

period of alarm and danger. Upon hearing of which, a company of infantry

was despatched by the royal government from Philadelphia to protect

Ephrata.[75]

But why, we might ask, did these people seek refuge in a communion of

non-combatants? The question bears on the controversy, as to whether the

men of peace or the men of war were nearer right in their dealings with

the savages.[76]

Beissel died in the year 1768, or about thirty years after the

establishment of the cloister. Upon his tombstone was placed, in German,

this inscription:

“Here rests a Birth of the love of God, Peaceful, a Solitary, but who

afterward became a Superintendent of the Solitary Community of Christ in

and around Ephrata: born in Oberbach in the Palatinate, and named Conrad

Beissel.”

“He fell asleep the 6th of July, A.D. 1768: of his spiritual life 52, but

of his natural one, 77 years and 4 months.”

Endress says, “He appears to me to have been a man possessed of a

considerable degree of the spirit of rule; his mind bent from the

beginning upon the acquirement of authority, power, and ascendency.” For

ourselves, we have just seen how he received Count Zinzendorf, who had

crossed the ocean, and come, as it were, to his threshold.

Mr. Endress further says, “Beissel, good or bad, lived and died the

master-spirit of the brotherhood. With him it sank into decay.”

The British officer who wrote in 1786 (?), eighteen years after Beissel’s

death, gives the number of the celibates as seven men and five women.

I do not consider him good authority; but if the numbers were so much

reduced from those of 1740, it seems probable that they had begun to

decline before the decease of Beissel.[77]

Eighteen years after Beissel’s death, was published at Ephrata the

Chronicle of which I have so often spoken, giving an account of his life.

He was succeeded by Peter Miller. Miller was sixty-five years old when

our Revolutionary war broke out, and had been the leader at Ephrata seven

years.

Fahnestock says that after the battle of Brandywine “the whole

establishment was opened to receive the wounded Americans, great numbers

of whom (Rupp says four or five hundred) were brought here in wagons a

distance of more than forty miles, and one hundred and fifty of whom died

and are buried on Mount Zion.”[78]

It is also narrated that before the battle of Germantown a quantity of

unbound books were seized at Ephrata by some of our soldiers, in order to

make cartridges. “An embargo,” says Miller, “was laid on all our printed

paper, so that for a time we could not sell any printed book.”

A story has appeared in print, and not always in the same manner, about

Miller’s going to General Washington and receiving from him a pardon for

his old enemy Widman, who was condemned to die.

This story Mr. Rupp thinks is based upon tradition; one version has been

told in a glowing manner, and is attributed to Dr. Fahnestock. It runs

thus: On the breaking out of the Revolution, committees of safety were

formed in different districts to support our cause. At the head of the

Lancaster County Committee was Michael Widman, who kept a public house,

and who had been a vestryman in the Reformed Church. This church Miller

had left when he joined the Baptists. He persecuted Miller to a shameful

extent, even spitting in his face when he met him.

Widman was at first bold and active in the cause of independence,

but he became discouraged, and resolved to go to Philadelphia and

conciliate General Howe, the British commander, who then held that

city. Howe, however, declined his services,[79] but gave orders to see

him safely beyond the British outposts. His treasonable intentions

having become known to the Americans, he was arrested and taken to the

nearest block-house, at the Turk’s Head, now West Chester; was tried by

court-martial, and sentenced to be hung. Peter Miller, hearing of his

arrest, went to General Washington and pleaded for mercy towards him.

The general answered that the state of public affairs was such as to

make it necessary that renegades should suffer, “otherwise I should most

cheerfully release your friend.”

“Friend!” exclaimed Miller: “he is my worst enemy,—my incessant

reviler.”[80]

Said the general, “My dear friend, I thank you for this example of

Christian charity!” and he granted Miller’s petition.

It is not necessary for me to go further, and describe the scene of

Miller’s arriving upon the ground with the pardon just as Widman was

to be hung, nor the subsequent proceedings there, for I am quite sure

that they did not take place. Evidence to this effect is found in the

Pennsylvania Archives, vol. ix., where Peter Miller writes to Secretary

Matlack, interceding (apparently) for a man named Rein. Miller says, “I

have thought his case was similar to Michael Wittman’s, who received

pardon without a previous trial.”

The secretary replies (1781), “Witman did not receive a pardon previous

to a surrender.”

Thus it seems that the story of Widman’s trial by court-martial is

also wrong. That his property was confiscated, as I was lately told

at Ephrata, I have no reason to doubt, as the Colonial Records, vol.

xii., show that in council, in 1779, it was resolved that the agents

for forfeited estates should sell that of Michael Wittman, subject to a

certain claim.[81]

At Ephrata, during the past winter, I stood in the loft of the

brother-house beside a great chimney of wood and clay, and was told that

here Widman had been hidden. Whether he actually concealed himself in the

brother-house, as has been narrated, I do not find that history declares.

At a subsequent date, 1783, we find in the Pennsylvania Archives, vol.

ix., that Miller intercedes for certain Mennonites who had been fined for

not apprehending British deserters; the Mennonites not being permitted

by their principles to do so. Does this mean deserters from ourselves to

the British,—who were, as deserters, liable to the punishment of death? a

punishment which the Mennonites, as non-resistants, could not inflict.

Certain letters of Peter Miller, published in Hazard’s Register, and

of which I have made considerable use, were written at an advanced

age,—eighty or thereabout. He says in one of them (December, 1790), “Age,

infirmity, and defect in sight are causes that the letter wants more

perspicuity, for which I beg pardon.”

He died about six years after, having lived some sixty years a member of

the community at Ephrata. Upon his tombstone was placed this inscription

in German:

“Here lies buried Peter Miller, born in Oberampt Lautern, in the

Palatinate (Chur-Pfalz); came as a Reformed preacher to America in the

year 1730; was baptized by the Community at Ephrata in the year 1735,

and named Brother Jaebez; also he was afterward a preacher (_Lehrer_)

until his end. He fell asleep the 25th of September, 1796, at the age of

eighty-six years and nine months.”

In the plain upon the banks of the Cocalico still stand the brother- and

sister-houses (although not the buildings first erected). But the society

is feeble in numbers, and the buildings are going to decay. They are

still, however, occupied, or partly so. I found several women living here

in 1872. Some of these were never married, but the majority are widows;

and not all of them members of the Baptist congregation. Nor are the

voices of children wanting.

The last celibate brother died some forty years ago. One, indeed, has

been here since, but, as I was told, “he did not like it,” and went to

the more flourishing community of Snow Hill, in Franklin County.

The little Ephrata association (which still owns a farm), instead of

supporting its unmarried members, now furnishes to them only house-rent,

fuel, and flour. The printing-press long since ceased from its labors,

and many of the other industrial pursuits have declined.

No longer do the unmarried or celibate members own all the property, but

it is now vested in all who belong to the meeting, single and married,

and is in the hands of trustees. The income is, I presume, but small.

The unmarried members wear our usual dress, and none are strictly recluse.

Formerly a large room or chapel was connected with the brother-house. It

was furnished with galleries, where sat the sisters, while the brethren

occupied the floor below. (This building, I am told, is not standing.)

In the smaller room or chapel (_saal_) connected with the sister-house,

about twenty people now meet on the Seventh day for public worship.

But among all these changes the German language still remains! All the

services that I heard, while attending here in February of 1872, were in

that tongue, except two hymns at the close. We must not suppose that this

language is employed because the members are natives of Germany. One or

two may be, but the preacher’s father or grandfather came to this country

when a boy.

Around the meeting-room are hung charts or sheets of grayish paper,

containing German verses in ornamental writing, the ancient labors of the

celibates, or perhaps of the sisters alone. One small chart here is said

to represent the three heavens, and to contain three hundred figures in

Capuchin dress, with harps in their hands, and two hundred archangels.

Perhaps this and their celibate doctrine are drawn, at least in part,

from the opening of chapter xiv. of the book called the Revelation of

John.

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