The Doukhobor Brickyard at Yorkton, Saskatchewan

by Debra Pinkerton

Canora resident Fay Negraeff recently delved into the history of a brickyard operated by the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood in Yorkton, Saskatchewan from 1905-1939. Reproduced from the pages of The Canora Courier newspaper (Canora, Saskatchewan: February 18, 2004), this article by Debra Pinkerton recounts the story of the Doukhobor brickyard and its impact on the Yorkton area.

Fay Negraeff of Canora had a personal interest in the yard as it was registered under the name of Anna Morosoff, her maternal great-aunt. Many residents of Doukhobor ancestry knew of her family connection to the brickyard. She was often asked about the business’s location, but information about the actual location had been lost since the company ceased operations.

Fay Negraeff of Canora poses with brick from the Doukhobor Brickyard in Yorkton.

Negraeff had checked with Philip Perepelkin of the Veregin Doukhobor Heritage Museum as to whether the museum knew the location of the brickyard. The museum has several bricks from the yard on display, stamped with the name “Morosof(f)”. The location of the brickyard was unknown.

Negraeff contacted Therese Lefebvre-Prince, heritage researcher of the City of Yorkton, who supplied her with a newspaper article, copies of the relevant sections of Yorkton’s city plans dated July 1923, and a photocopy of the City of Yorkton records pertaining to the Doukhobor endeavours in the area.

The city records state that the property was not registered in the name of the (Doukhobor) Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood because they were in debt. It was instead registered in Morosoff’s name, who was a member of the community. This was a departure from the communal tradition of the community.        

An article in the Yorkton Enterprise dated June 7, 1905 proclaimed the purchase of the land from J.J. Smith by Peter Verigin on behalf of the Doukhobor community. The site, identified as “part of Block 17, comprising a cement block works, sand pit and lands adjoining” was sold for $2,500.

“It is the intention of the Doukhobor colony, of which Peter Verigin is the head,” the article said, “to install an up-to-date plant for the manufacture of cement blocks and clay bricks on this property. Work has already commenced and another thriving industry has been added to Yorkton.”

The Doukhobor Brickyard was built on 10 acres of land bounded by 7th Avenue North and Dracup Avenue, between Darlington and part-way to Henderson, with Dunlop dead-ending in the yard. The factory cost between $30,000 and $50,000, a huge sum of money in those days, the records show.

Brickyard site as shown in 1923 survey of the City of Yorkton, Saskatchewan. Source; City of Yorkton Archives.

Power was supplied by a 50-horsepower steam engine, operated by six men and two boys. The brickyard employed 28 men, 20 boys and three women, under the supervision of M.W. Cazakoff. In true Doukhobor tradition, proceeds from sales of bricks went to the treasury of the community, which supported the workers, and no wages were paid.

Family Connection. The Doukhobor Brickyard in Yorkton was registered in the name of Mrs. Anna Morosoff, great-aunt of Fay Negraeff of Canora. In the early 1940’s, Morosoff, seated, visited her relatives, Negraeff’s mother and sisters, on their farm west of Canora.

Bricks were made from a mixture of sand and clay. The yard was able to produce 50,000 bricks per day, but rarely ran at full capacity.

The city records state that a large number of Doukhobors immigrated to the Yorkton area in 1899. The Government of Canada, hoping to encourage large groups of settlers to thwart American settlement of the Canadian West, welcomed the Doukhobors with 45 townships in Manitoba and the then Assinniboia Territory, in what is now Saskatchewan. They were granted immunity from military service and received land in blocks to settle communally.

Within a few years of their arrival, there were 47 Doukhobor villages in the Yorkton vicinity, with 10 miles of graded road and 20,000 acres under cultivation. They owned several saw and grist mills, two brickyards, and 370 head of cattle, the records show. Peter Verigin was released from exile in 1902, and joined his followers in Veregin. He renamed the community the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood (CCUB).

In 1905, the homestead requirements changed. Each quarter section had to be registered and farmed individually. Communal villages were no longer possible. More than 2,000 of the original 6,000 settlers filed individual homesteads, with the rest losing their lands. More than 250,000 acres of land was seized at a loss to the Doukhobor people of more than $11 million, the records state.

Within five years, Veregin had resettled the largest portion of the community in British Columbia. The community became the Union of Spiritual Communities of Christ in 1938.

In 1927, the new Doukhobor leader, Peter Petrovich Verigin, decided to either sell or develop the remaining property owned by the community in Yorkton. With building permits registered under the name of Anna Morosoff, construction started on six houses in 1932. Veregin brought in a contractor and 25 men from BC to join 50 Doukhobor men from the area on the project. The men worked 12 hour days, six days a week for 10 cents a day.

Close-up of the brickyard site as shown in 1923 survey of the City of Yorkton, Saskatchewan. Source; City of Yorkton Archives.

During the Depression, construction was unusual, and six houses going up on the same block was unheard of. Using bricks from the Doukhobor Brickyard Society, the houses were built on the east block of Myrtle Avenue between Smith Street and the CPR line, which was owned by the society and had stood empty for many years.

Remaining Doukhobor Houses: Three of the original six houses built by the Doukhobor Brickyard Society in 1932 stand on Myrtle Avenue in Yorkton. Details of the houses include the front view at 33 Myrtle Avenue and garage at 29 Myrtle Avenue.

The houses were built completely by hand. The holes for the foundations were dug with a scraper pulled by horses. The walls were three bricks thick, and the lumber was brought in from BC. The houses were surrounded by brick and wood fences five feet high. Behind each house, a garage was built for the size of the Model T automobile popular at the time. The structure of the homes resembled the thatch-peaked homes the Doukhobors had built in their communities.

Former Junior High School: The former C.J. Houston Junior High School in Yorkton was built with bricks from the Doukhobor Brickyard in Yorkton. Other buildings in the city built with the bricks include the old Macleods building and the City Limits Inn.

Three of the original six houses still stand. As well, many other buildings in Yorkton such as the City Limits Inn, C.J. Houston Junior High School, and houses at 85, 92 and 98 Fifth Avenue North are built of bricks produced by the Doukhobor brickyard.

In 1990, the City of Yorkton purchased the home at 29 Myrtle Avenue for preservation as a heritage site, to commemorate the history of the Doukhobors in Yorkton.

Built with Doukhobor Bricks: These houses at 85 (top) and 92 (bottom) Fifth Avenue in Yorkton were built with bricks from the Doukhobor Brickyard in Yorkton. The bricks were stamped with the name “Morosof(f)” after Anna Morosoff in whose name the brickyard was registered. She was the great-aunt of Fay Negraeff of Canora.

Many Doukhobors in the community have bricks stamped with the Morosof(f) name as souvenirs. Negraeff said she thought the last letter was left off the bricks for lack of room. Negraeff felt a great deal of personal satisfaction in unearthing the history of the Doukhobor brickyard in Yorkton. She hopes others who had family involved would appreciate knowing more about the brickyard and its impact on the area.

Editorial Note

The CCUB ceased to operate the brickyard in c. 1925. It remained inoperative for several years until 1930, when brother-in-laws Nick N. Morosoff and Mike N. Maloff took over operation of the brickyard. As the brickyard property was in Nick’s mother (Mike’s mother-in-law) Anna’s name, they paid off the back taxes and debts owing against the property and assumed ownership. As part of the arrangement, the new owners agreed to build the six houses on Myrtle Avenue referenced above. During the partnership, the bricks were stamped “Yorkton”. In 1934, Maloff left the partnership. Thereafter, Morosoff continued to operated the brickyard until 1938. The bricks were stamped “Morosof(f)” during this period. In 1938, the brickyard was leased to Mr. George Waters who operated it for one year. It was then re-leased, with an option to purchase, to Mr. Paul Sawchenko. Sawchenko operated it for one year and, losing money, closed down the plant and demolished the buildings – JJK.

The Doukhobors at Veregin, Saskatchewan, 1911

Manitoba Free Press

In 1911, the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood was in a period of transition. Two thousand of its members had relocated from Saskatchewan to British Columbia where they were establishing communal settlements and enterprises. Another six thousand waited to join them. While they remained in Saskatchewan, these driven, hard-working Doukhobors productively operated the CCUB agricultural, commercial and industrial enterprises there. The following account by a Winnipeg, Manitoba visitor to their community at Veregin, Saskatchewan describes the material prosperity and substantial progress of what was already then a multi-million-dollar enterprise. Published in the Manitoba Free Press on August 26, 1911. Photos courtesy the Doukhobor Discovery Centre Autochrome Exhibit.

Nearly eleven years ago, eight thousand people harried from the realm of the Czar, sought refuge in this Canada, and under the shadow of the Union Jack set up their altars and built their homes. These Doukhobors, for it was they, now as a community, count their worldly possessions in six figures, and M. W. Cazakoff, general manager of the community, told me that this year fully $1,000,000 would pass through his hands. In addition to this all, the money lent them at the time of their immigration, including the $185,000 given by the Quakers of Great Britain and United States, has been paid back.

To many of the Canadian people, the term Doukhobor, if thought of at all, is tucked without anchor under the genus foreigner, usually has a shawl tied under its chin, and if the philosopher in question is a very deep philosopher indeed, he adds that the Doukhobor lives in villages and, oh yes, is given to going on religious marches.

CCUB general store, Verigin, Saskatchewan, 1911.  Courtesy the Doukhobor Discovery Centre Autochrome Exhibit.

To such I recommend a visit to Veregin, the headquarters of the Yorkton community settlement. In the town itself is the trading store of the Doukhobor society, the brick yards and the flour mill, and dotting the prairie out from it are fifty-five villages, bits of the old world framed in a setting of Canadian fields of grain. A private telephone line connects the settlement and the latest acquisition is a large size touring car. Three to four hundred magnificent horses are also the property of the society, and only the very latest in machinery and in methods of farming finds place with the Doukhobors. They have 100,000 acres of land, and in addition, the government has lent them for an indefinite period 18,000 acres – 15 acres a head.

As one of my people remarked, “Peter Verigin runs the show and Peter Verigin is no slouch”. As every one knows Mr. Verigin is the leader of the Doukhobors – heaven-sent, they believe – and his word is law. All properties and monies are in his name. Strange that a people should resist with their lives the dominance of one individual, only to seek that of another. By the way, Mr. Verigin prefers “Doukhobor” spelled “Duohobors”. At present he is in British Columbia superintending the establishment of the Kootenay-Columbia Preserving Works at Brilliant and Nelson. To British Columbia, two thousand of his people have already gone, and the rest will follow, so many this fall and the rest in two years. Especially among the older ones, the prospect of the western province is alluring. “Columbia she like Rusee, Beeg Mountains there, Me hurt in my heart for the mountains,” and the old patriarch who was speaking waved his hand with patient resignation towards my beloved prairies. Verity to each of us his own land.

Visitors at the CCUB flour mill and elevator, Verigin, Saskatchewan, 1911. This mill would process grains into flour and then ship to various destinations. Courtesy Doukhobor Discovery Centre Autochrome Exhibit.

But to return to the Doukhobors at Veregin. Tall, clear eyed, they stand, for the most part fair, but with here and there a dark face, publishing the story of the proximity in the old land of the Turkish border, kindly, courteous always, and with an almost infinite capacity for minding their own business. It is only when one stays with and among them that one discovers underneath the courteous veneer, a solid wall of purpose, and that purpose is rooted and grounded in religious conviction. A Doukhobor and his religion are one, and form his religion springs his whole plan and system of life.

Each leader chooses his successor, divine revelation being given him to that end, and this leader has absolute power. “Our last leader,” explained young Peter Verigin’s nephew to the Peter, “was a woman and she choose Mr. Verigin. We not know, perhaps he not know himself, who be next.”

Each year in March an annual meeting is held and to this meeting each village sends five representatives – three men and two women. Then an account is given of the year’s work, and plans are made for the coming year. A committee of three is elected, whose duty it is to advise with Mr. Verigin as to policy of the society.

CCUB members plow the prairies near Veregin, Saskatchewan, 1911. Courtesy the Doukhobor Discovery Centre Autochrome Exhibit.

A tenet of their faith teaches them that all property should be held in common; therefore the community system. Each village is given so many acres of land, according to the population of the village and to the fertility of the soil. Population varies from 50 to 250. Each village is like one family, running its own account at society stores and being credited with all the produce it may deliver. One man buys for the whole village, clothing, food, etc.

“But suppose,” asked my friend with the satiable curiosity, “two girls wanted a dress off the same piece of goods, and there was only enough for one. What would you do then?” “Go buy some more just like,” answered nephew Peter laconically. “But,“ she persisted, “don’t your people ever feel cross one with the other?” Such abounding peace and goodwill did hardly seem canny. “Yes,” answered Peter the solid, “then the old men of the village go speak with them and they are kind once more.”

This year the colony at Veregin has ten thousand acres in crop, seven thousand in oats, and three thousand in wheat. Flax is also grown to some extent. Horse ranching as an industry has also grown to considerable proportions. A few years ago cattle and sheep farming was an important factor, but the Doukhobors felt that such a practice was inconsistent with their religion, which forbids the taking of life. Now only enough cattle and sheep are kept to supply milk and wool to the colony. This spring Mr. Verigin intimated that all the men between the ages of 18 and 60, except those needed for the manning of the brickyard, etc. should go out among the “English” and bring back this fall each two hundred dollars to his own village. Of course they went. “Theirs not to make reply.”

Workers pose inside the engine room to the cable carriage assembly at the CCUB brick works, Veregin, Saskatchewan, 1911.  Courtesy the Doukhobor Discovery Centre Autochrome Exhibit.

The brick yard employs 14 men, and this season will export 1,000,000 bricks. Into the great mixing bins the clay is dumped where the power of the great engines mixes it freely. Then into the moulds and on to the trays it goes after which the formed bricks are slipped along the trolleys to the drying sheds. After so many days there, according “as the sun she is,” they are carried to the immense kilns where for nine days and nights 235,000 are at one time kept under steady fire.

Between the brickyard and the mill is a blacksmith shop, and as an example of Doukhobor attention to detail it was noticed that the yard was literally full of wagons and binders being repaired and made fit against the coming harvest.

The mill fitted with the latest machinery stands on a slight elevation just above a slough. At least, the body of water in question would be a slough to most Canadians, but the Doukhobor has dammed back the water till it is ten feet deep, and thus is the source of the mill water supply. Two hundred barrels of flour and one hundred barrels of oatmeal is the daily output. In close proximity to the mill stands the elevator, really a double elevator, for it is fitted with two engines, one working for the mill and one for the public. The Doukhobors handle not only the grain of their own people, but also buy from the general public Mr. Cazakoff told me that last year he had often counted sixty teams in the yard at once waiting to unload.

Visitors and workers pose at the CCUB elevator, Verigin, Saskatchewan, 1911.  Courtesy the Doukhobor Discovery Centre Autochrome Exhibit. K.M.H, Winnipeg, Manitoba.

Special thanks to Corinne Postnikoff of Castlegar, British Columbia for her assistance with the data input of this article.

Leo Tolstoy’s Teachings and the Sons of Freedom in Canada

by Svetlana A. Inikova

Much has been written about the Sons of Freedom in Canada. Remarkably little scholarly attention has been devoted, however, to the ideological origins and historical genesis of this zealot group. According to Russian ethnographer and archivist Svetlana A. Inikova, the roots of the Freedomite movement can be found in the intellectual ideas and philosophical writings of Russian novelist Leo N. Tolstoy. His teachings, spread by Tolstoyans living among the Doukhobors in Canada and abroad, and adopted by Doukhobor leader Peter V. Verigin in Siberian exile, found fertile ground among an uneducated, mystically inclined group of sectarian zealots and exerted a definite influence on the formation of the radical wing of the Doukhobor movement. In this Doukhobor Genealogy Website exclusive, Dr. Inikova offers an in-depth and critical examination of how the Freedomite movement in Canada was to become the unanticipated fruit of Tolstoy’s frequently misinterpreted ideas. Originally published in the Russian journal “Religiovedenie” [Moscow, Blagoveshchensk, No. 3, 2002]. Translated from the original Russian by Jack McIntosh.

In Russia, few people have heard of Canada’s “Sons of Freedom” or “Freedomites.” In recent years, two Russian newspaper articles are most likely all that the general reader might have read on that theme. There is a complete absence of scholarly publications on the Freedomites, although in Canada numerous academic works have been written about them, and newspapers have been full of articles and news items about their antisocial activity, sometimes filling whole columns. For almost a hundred years, the Freedomites have kept Canadian society in a state of tension, organizing acts of arson against schools and private homes and enterprises, bombing of railway and power lines, and scandalizing respectable citizenry by disrobing in public places and staging “nude parades” along the roads of Canada.

The Freedomite movement, an extremist socio-religious trend, originated among that portion of the Doukhobor sect that had come to be known as “Fasters,” those Doukhobors who in 1895, after proclaiming their pacifism, burned their weapons in the Transcaucasus and were driven by acts of government repression to resettle in Canada. The paradox was that the ideology of the Sons of Freedom, like that of the other Doukhobor-Fasters, was based on high ideals of non-violence. Moreover, the social and ethical aspect of the doctrine espoused by the Doukhobor-Fasters (non-participation in violence and exploitation, vegetarianism, renunciation of luxury, and communal way of life), adopted by them in 1893-94, had coalesced under the powerful influence of the ideas of Leo Tolstoy as propagated among the Doukhobors by “Tolstoyans” D. A. Khilkov, A. M. Bodyansky, S. T. Prokopenko, and N. Dudchenko, all of whom had lived since 1892 in the Transcaucasus. Not only did they conduct discussions and distribute publications of the “Posrednik” publishing house set up by Tolstoy and V. G. Chertkov, but Khilkov and Bodyansky, using the traditional genre of Doukhobor psalms, also composed catechisms for a “new” set of teachings that had not yet been accepted even by the Fasters. Their propagandistic activity was crowned with success only because many of Tolstoy’s ideas had been accepted by the leader of the Doukhobor-Fasters, Peter Vasil’evich Verigin, who since 1887 had been in Russia’s far north in administrative exile, all the while maintaining continual contact with his supporters through messengers. Through the efforts of the Tolstoyans, the struggle for power typical of religious sects had been turned into a socio-religious movement destined to cause many problems for authorities at all levels.

In 1855, while still a young man, Tolstoy had expressed the need to create a new religion “purged of faith and mystery, a practical religion, one not promising future bliss, but bringing about heaven on Earth.” He understood that it would be a difficult task requiring more than one generation, but “some day fanaticism or reason” would accomplish this, Tolstoy wrote in his diary. His friends and followers went further: they attempted to utilize Tolstoy’s teachings as a lever by which, as I. M. Tregubov wrote in 1889 to D. A. Khilkov, it would be possible to “turn life around,” that is, to destroy both state and church. To this end, it was necessary to spread this teaching among the rationalist sects, especially the Doukhobors, Molokans, and Stundists. In another letter to the Tolstoyan P. I. Biriukov, Tregubov emphasized that the most suitable sectarians for this purpose are the ones who “are distinguished by extraordinary self-denial, to the point of self-crucifixion,” that is, simply put, fanatics. A. M. Bodyansky also extolled the self-denial of people of deep faith. Doukhobors, or so it seemed to the Tolstoyans, entirely met these requirements.

From 1895 on, all the activity of the Tolstoyans was concentrated on the Doukhobor-Fasters: The Tolstoyans endeavoured to let the world know about their struggle against militarism, about persecutions by the government and the suffering of these true Christians, provided them with financial assistance, and later organized their resettlement in Canada and helped them become established in their new location. Not only was Tolstoy familiar with the details of all the events taking place in “Dukhoboria,” but he was at the centre of the campaign to furnish aid to the persecuted. He repeatedly expressed in letters and conversations that the “Doukhobor cause” was most important and that it was totally absorbing him. However, neither Tolstoy nor his friends were aware that they were dealing not with a rationalistic but a mystical sect in which their leader is the very incarnate Son of God, Christ. They had no idea of the immense danger inherent in fanaticism and what kind of repercussions could result from intellectual ideas sown within an uneducated, mystically inclined people. The Freedomite movement in Canada was to become the unanticipated fruit of Tolstoy’s frequently misinterpreted ideas.

When they were resettling the Doukhobor-Fasters in Canada, the Tolstoyans saw their task as that of building in a free country a “Kingdom of Truth and Love.” However, even at the time of the move, those who were closely associated with the Doukhobors and those Tolstoyans who accompanied them en route noticed that very many of their wards were by no means keen on living communally, and that among the Fasters there were some who continued to eat meat, drink and smoke. However, that did not arouse Tolstoy’s suspicions. He believed that living people have shadows, and as he wrote to one of his English followers, Arthur St. John, who assisted the emigration of the Fasters and noted vices in their midst that were a disgrace to Christians, it would be “very useful [for the Doukhobors] to have such friends as you and our other friends. You are serving them conscientiously, reminding them of their principles, and with your help they are more keenly aware of their errors.”

In 1899 D. A. Khilkov, who had exerted so much effort towards expanding the Doukhobor movement in the Caucasus and who, quite naturally, understood better than others its true essence, became disenchanted with the Doukhobors. Once he had finally come to believe that “in no respect will anything propitious come of their settlement,” he departed from Canada, where he had helped them find land and get settled. His relations with the Doukhobors essentially had come to an end, although he continued to be interested in their life. However, in that same year, 1899, A. M. Bodyansky, a friend of Khilkov’s who had already become well known to many Doukhobors in the Caucasus, arrived in Canada from exile in Pribaltiisky kray [Baltic region]. He considered himself to be a follower of Tolstoy, was long in correspondence with him, participated in several Tolstoyan colonies and expended his whole large fortune in that cause. He had served out several periods of administrative exile for spreading Tolstoyan propaganda. Bodyansky was a man fanatically committed to an idea and for the sake of bringing it to fruition spared neither himself, nor his colleagues, nor his friends. He went to Canada with the intention of assuming the role of ideological mentor to the Doukhobors, who, in his opinion, were in need as never before “of spiritual food, models of good living, of live preaching in action.” In September, 1899, Bodyansky, who was destined to play an important part in the fate of the Doukhobors, was accepted into the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood created back in 1896 at the instigation of Peter Verigin.

In the very first years in Canada, the Christian Community showed signs of splitting. Canada opened up prospects for rapid accumulation of wealth for enterprising and industrious people such as the Doukhobors indeed were. According to Canadian law, every man from the age of eighteen had to right to an allotment – a homestead 160 acres in size, which he was supposed to make over to himself. Soon after arrival, the authorities required new settlers to assume ownership of the allotted lands. They were not prohibited from combining their homesteads, living in villages and working the land jointly, but formally, each parcel of land had to have its own owner. Thus at any time the owner of a homestead could leave the community. In this opportunity lurked great danger for the sect. Vacillation and doubts began to grow within the Doukhobor milieu. The situation that had developed was all the more dangerous in that once the sect was spared compulsory military service in Canada, the powerful unifying factor of having to contend with a government over the issue of military service had disappeared.

Bodyansky saw that for the “universal brethren,” as he often called the Doukhobors in his letters, the temptation of material prosperity was proving more difficult to withstand than the Tsar’s prisons and Cossack whips, that “the spirit of moral disintegration is very rapidly conquering” them, that the “beast of the flesh” that previously had been suppressed by religious persecution and “the blind sense of a herd moving in the footsteps of its leaders” had awakened. The hopes of Tolstoy and the Tolstoyans that the Doukhobors would create a Kingdom of Truth and Love were in danger of complete collapse. Both the Tolstoyans and those Doukhobors who had taken an active part in the movement immediately saw a threat that recent rebels would quickly become law-abiding Canadians. Both the former and the latter had a stake in impeding this process.

While still in Canada, Khilkov repeatedly wrote to Tolstoy that the Doukhobors were preparing to divide up the money collected for them and live separately. Setting his hopes on Tolstoy’s authority, he appealed to him to advise the Doukhobors to live as a commune. Reports of inclinations towards private ownership also arrived from other educated friends and helpers living among the Doukhobors. Impressed by these letters and stories, Tolstoy wrote a letter to the Doukhobors on February 15, 1900, in which he reproached them for accumulating possessions and forgetting their principles. “You see it only seems to us that it is possible to remain a Christian and still have property and keep it from other people,” he wrote, “but that is impossible. People must acknowledge this – or else in a short time, nothing will be left of Christianity except words, and unfortunately, insincere and hypocritical words… At first it may seem that between renunciation of violence, refusal of military service, and recognition of private property there is no connection… But this is not true. You see, property means that that which I consider my own, I will not give to anybody who wishes to take this thing of mine, but moreover, I will defend it against him. But to defend against another that which I regard as my own cannot be done except by violence, that is, if need be, by struggle, fighting, even killing. The teachings of Christianity cannot be taken piecemeal: it is all or nothing. It is all inseparably connected as a single whole. If a person acknowledges himself to be a son of God, then there flows from this recognition love for one’s neighbour, and in exactly the same way, love of neighbour entails rejection of violence, the uttering of oaths, military service, and property… Man does not need to provide for himself, as Christ himself said. He is provided for once and for all by God: just like the birds of the air and the flowers of the field.”

S. Prokopenko, who lived with the Doukhobors, wrote sadly: “I read Lev Nikolaevich’s letter to the Doukhobors and I see that he knows little of their state of mind. In the first place, he does not know that this is sectarianism in the extreme. In the second place, he does not know that within the Doukhobor midst violence is even greater that that meted out by the Russian authorities. I say “greater,” because there is no authority that can exercise such moral violence as Doukhobors do… Lev Nikolaevich does not know that the Doukhobors possess in the highest degree a land-owning spirit and have never been otherwise.”

Tolstoy’s letter was published in England in the series Listki Svobodnogo slova by V. G. Chertkov, very close friend of Lev Tolstoy and an active participant in the campaign to defend the Doukhobors (for which he had been exiled to England) and in the organization of their emigration. The Listki were sent to the Doukhobor settlements in large quantities, and the letter was reprinted several times in separate small-format editions. It became widely known among the Doukhobors, who were well aware of the immense assistance given them by Tolstoy while they were still in the Caucasus and during their resettlement in Canada, and they regarded him as their friend. Even today, this letter is well known among Canadian Doukhobors, and the Freedomites in particular.

Dissemination of this letter was also aided by the fact that current among Doukhobors was the opinion that between “Petiushka” (P. V. Verigin) and Tolstoy there existed some sort of special invisible bond, and that Tolstoy was preaching what he had learned from Verigin. You see, Petiushka also had advised them to live in Canada as a commune. True, he had not passed on anything concerning ownership of land. In the Transcaucasus the Doukhobors had lived on state land, and the question of the moral aspects of private ownership of land had never arisen. When the Doukhobors were getting ready to depart from Russia to seek out a place to live, they were entirely permissive in regard to land purchase. One of the respected “starichki” [elders], Nikola Zibarov, wrote to Arthur St. John: “As to whether we wish to rent or buy [land – S.I.], for us it would be good to have either in mind, that is, either rental or such lands as we might buy. What would be most convenient for us would be to settle in America on government lands, if that is possible.”

Most likely the Doukhobors could have found some sort of compromise on the land question or stalled until the arrival to Canada of Peter Verigin, whose term of exile was coming to an end in the summer of 1902. Much more acute was their reaction to the demand of the government for obligatory registration of marriages and reporting to the authorities the number of births and deaths. The Doukhobors considered this to be interference in the sect’s business. They had traveled to a free country where they could live according to their own laws. Here, however, instead of Russian law, which could be evaded by bribery, Canadian law stood as an impassable wall they could not get around. The Doukhobors became perplexed, frightened, and deeply indignant.

A. M. Bodyansky decided to take advantage of the situation that had developed by attaching a Christian slant, in the spirit of Tolstoy, to their imminent struggle for independence, this time from the Canadian state. Later, in a letter to Tolstoy, he wrote: “Accordingly, even if one were to acknowledge the government of Canada as perhaps the best of governments, one had to expect efforts therefrom to turn us into Canadians devoted to the interests of the new fatherland, and not to expect any help or sympathy at all in enabling us to be better sons of humanity. I found it necessary to protect the Doukhobors against the undesirable results of such government efforts. What was necessary in this regard? In the first place, it seemed to me essential to convince the Doukhobors that to achieve the goal of a better life, people ought not associate themselves with any national state “herd” at all. In the second place, it was essential to take up such a position with them that we would in reality not belong to any state herd… The moment had come when one had either to reject any striving toward a better life, or through direct ways of bringing this life into being openly express one’s striving towards it. And I seized the moment and came out onto the new stage all the more boldly because your letter to the Doukhobors in which you advise them not to be landowners, and its publication and wide distribution by Chertkov, compelled me to believe that I would find support in this cause.”

Impressed by Tolstoy’s letter, Bodyansky, in the name of the Doukhobors, wrote a declaration to the Canadian authorities signed by twenty-two elders, and in June 1900 the Doukhobors delivered it to the government agent in Yorkton. In this declaration they announced that they could not obey government laws that violate the law of God:

1) They cannot secure land for themselves, as it belongs to God, whereas “to secure land as the property of individuals or communities constitutes a profound violation of God’s law that will more than anything else impede the establishment of the Kingdom of God on Earth…”;

2) They cannot register weddings in a police book; they cannot go along with marriage unions being moved “from God’s jurisdiction to that of the police…”;

3) They see no need to enter births and deaths in police books, as the Heavenly Father knows this all anyway.

In an attempt to define Bodyansky’s role in the publication of the declaration, P. I. Biriukov wrote that this friend of Doukhobors, “in sympathy with those high Christian ideals, was, so to speak, the literate voice of the Doukhobors’ protest against the Canadian government.” They themselves accepted this protest more on faith than by agreement with its content. When Biriukov asked one of the signatories how it came about that the Doukhobors signed the letter, that person replied: “… you know that we are not clever enough to understand every word. And there were words we thought inappropriate for us, but B[odyansky] is a persistent fellow and always interprets things in his own way.”

Once they had so incautiously, using someone else’s words, proclaimed to all of Canada their rejection of land ownership, they felt compelled to continue to defend the position thrust upon them. The Freedomites became the staunchest defenders of this idea. To this very day a Freedomite settlement exists at Gilpin (near Grand Forks in the province of British Columbia), whose inhabitants not only reject land ownership, but even refuse to pay any taxes on it, on the basis that “the land is God’s.”

So as to deprive the Doukhobors of any opportunity to retreat, Bodyansky hastened to send this declaration not only to the Canadian government, but also to like-minded Tolstoyans in different countries, with a request to translate it into French and German and publish it in the newspapers so that the world would know of this new heroic deed of the Doukhobors. However, he himself had a very low opinion of the Christian virtues of the “universal brotherhood.” On July 8, 1900, Bodyansky wrote to V. D. Bonch-Bruevich, the future historian of religious sectarianism, who accompanied to Canada the fourth party of Doukhobors and helped them get settled: “Notwithstanding [their] world-renowned Christian exploit, it seems to me that there is very little true Christianity among them, at least, much less than among Orthodox peasants, not to mention the rationalist sects. And a terribly repulsive characteristic of the Doukhobors is a certain slyness attainable only by sectarians holding to a secret doctrine; also, their inordinate pride.”

Bodyansky set himself the goal of not letting the Doukhobors stop their forward movement or become complacent. Accordingly he strove to stir up Doukhobor society by all possible means. Evidently it was he who brought to Canada two letters written by P. V. Verigin, one of which, dated January 4, 1896, was addressed to Nikolai Trofimovich Iziumchenko, then serving out his exile in Siberia for rejecting military service, and the other, dated November 25, 1896, to the Tolstoyan Evgenii Ivanovich Popov. Although there is no direct proof that it was Bodyansky himself who acquainted the Doukhobors with these letters, it is quite obvious that he along with the most radical of the Doukhobors used them while composing a catechism for a new belief system in which the fundamentals of Freedomite doctrine were laid out. I would like to dwell on the content of these letters in some detail.

In his letter to Iziumchenko, Verigin philosophized on the theme of true Christian living. Clearly, some of the thoughts expressed in this letter were inspired by the philosophical writings and letters of Tolstoy that had been furnished in quantity in published and manuscript form by the Tolstoyans. But Verigin, accepting these thoughts as a foundation, attempted to develop them further, taking them to their logical conclusion, arguing them to the point of total absurdity. It is difficult to tell how sincere he was, but he was sure of the originality of his thinking. In this letter Verigin tries to allay in advance any suspicion of his having borrowed ideas from Tolstoy, remarking offhandedly: “In what does his [Tolstoy’s – S.I.] philosophy consist? I have not read his works. Only by hearsay do I know that he rejects the legitimacy of modern ‘civilization,’ that is, progress.” He wrote that the ability to read and write, which Doukhobors had always regarded with disfavour, ‘destroys the attraction of the personal encounter,’ and schools corrupt the morals of children. Moreover, “all of the things by means of which literacy is achieved are obtained by hard labour, and so we have to avoid any part in the enslavement of others, in whatever manner.” Verigin announced that he does not consider labour as basic to human life, but that if we moderate our needs, it is possible to get by in tranquility without working. Citing the words of Christ: “Man does not live by bread alone,” Verigin wrote that humanity is thereby liberated ‘from the slavery of physical, unnatural labour.” A person should assume the position of a guest on the Earth and return to nature. By being abstemious in his diet, a person could, in Verigin’s opinion, have a lifespan with what he possesses of one hundred years, and in that time the Earth would return to its original state, and “humanity, along with spiritual growth, lost by Adam and Eve, would also attain a natural heaven on earth” and be fed “legitimately” – with fruit. “People would gradually become used to bodily nudity,” Verigin reasoned further, “having taken off all clothing and eaten all their bread, humanity would arrive at its original state.” True Christians “should abandon physical labour and go to spread the Gospel, that is, Christ… If some want to work, let them, but we should work exclusively on behalf of Christ. The bread of moderation thus should be bestowed from our Heavenly Father on every person, whether he works or not: “the birds of the air sow not, neither do they reap, but they are satiated.”

In his letter to E. I. Popov, Verigin discussed marriage in the spirit of Tolstoy’s postscript to his Kreutzer Sonata. He proclaimed sexual relations to be sinful and advocated chaste upbringing of children. Incidentally, in this letter Verigin did not conceal the fact that these thoughts had already been expressed by Tolstoy: “The question of sexual relations or marriage has been treated in sufficient detail and reliably in a leaflet contained in letters sent to me. This thought is probably L. N.’s… I repeat that legitimate, clean upbringing of children would be most beneficial, as L. N. also points out. Then the difference in people’s lives would be greater than it is now.” On the subject of mercy, Verigin expressed the thought that mercy presupposes not only rejection of the killing of animals, but even of the use of horses. Expressing his opposition to civilization, he reproached E. Popov for being afraid of complete simplicity. Verigin, on the contrary, regarded returning to the sources as his goal, even if humanity were to revert to the world of the apes. “My soul has been in pain, dear Evgenii Ivanovich, looking at the fruits of civilization,” he wrote. Complete satisfaction in life, in Verigin’s words, he experienced when he observed people wandering aimlessly, especially in the forest. A person would not die in the forest, if he were eating grass and roots, and in a warm climate he could even do without clothing. “Even if I did have to die of the cold and hunger, I agree that it would be better to die with honour than to be a barbarian who lives a hundred years, but at the expense of one’s environment.”

Verigin’s letters were evidently discussed among the Doukhobors closest to Bodyansky and were received by them as a new Gospel from Christ – i.e. Petiushka. These people with total sincerity desired to live true Christian lives, following every letter of their leader’s new teaching. Continuing the work perfecting the Doukhobor belief system begun back in the Caucasus, Bodyansky recruited this group of Doukhobors to work with him on the composition of a new catechism that would reflect their spiritual advancement. The catechism was written in 1900 by Bodyansky, with the participation and approval of the elders. In it Verigin’s letters were used; to be more precise, the catechism was drawn up in such a manner that the ideas expressed therein were in harmony with what Verigin had written and with which Bodyansky, in the main, agreed. Bodyansky formulated their corresponding phraseology and added ideas of his own on true Christian living. In 1901, after Bodyansky had already left Canada, he published the catechism in Geneva in the form of a small-format booklet entitled Kniga zhizni khristianskoi ili otvetnaia rech’ veruiushchego o delakh zhiteiskikh [Book of Christian life or answers of the believer to questions on matters of everyday life]. The author discovered a copy in the Museum of the History of Religion in St. Petersburg.

This book sets forth essentially the whole of Freedomite doctrine, and those who took part in its creation became the leaders of the Freedomite movement. The Kniga zhizni … opens with the same question as the title of the well-known Doukhobor psalm “What manner of man art thou?” In the original, the answer that followed was “I am a man of God.” Here at once appeared a new understanding of life and one’s place therein: “[I am] a simple man.” Further on it states that truth lies in the words of Jesus Christ: “Be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect,” and in order to be perfect, one should live as Jesus did, that is according to God’s law. One can apprehend the law of God by means of “the voice of God in human understanding.”

In the Doukhobor belief system, inner revelation played a large part in apprehending God’s will, but in actuality it was their leader who uttered the will of God, and not every believer. According to the new teaching, each person should feel within himself the voice of God. The essence of God’s law is to strive for spiritual perfection, and for this it is essential to be free, wise, and meek. At this point it was explained how to understand these qualities. Let us take note of the prerequisites for a person to be considered free: “Not to have over himself any tsar or earthly superior, but to have God within himself as tsar, neither to lord it over people nor to subordinate oneself slavishly to others, neither to swear nor take an oath, neither to borrow nor be beholden, neither to hire nor hire oneself out, not to own property, not to enter into marriage, not to indulge the flesh, neither to have fatherland nor clan nor tribe, but to acknowledge all people as kinfolk, not to conform with human laws, but to be in all things a servant of one’s own clear conscience – that is what it means to be free.” To conform to human laws means to reject the laws of God. Clearly, these formulations are very strict and uncompromising.

It is well known that there had previously been no fasting among the Doukhobors. However, Bodyansky included in the book a section entitled “On fasting,” asserting that “power of spirit over flesh” is achieved thereby. In the section “On instruction” he affirmed that the simple ability to read and write is necessary for a person to be able to communicate with people. It is necessary to learn trades that are “needed for a simple life.” But one can do without scholarly learning, inasmuch as scientific, artificial knowledge brings little that is useful and much that is harmful. “Life goes on, and will itself find everything it needs. And only that is necessary for life which life itself attains simply through experience, while everything artificially acquired damages the simplicity and directness of its path toward perfection.” A man must work, but unselfishly and only to satisfy the needs of a simple and righteous life. Work that satisfies whims based on greed is disreputable. A man should be fed “with those things intended by God for the nourishment of his flesh: fruits, roots, greens and seeds – food from plants, not from animals.” And the use of leather and oils from animals was equated to the use of meat. However, the use of the labour of animals was permissible on condition that they be rewarded with feed and tending, but with this reservation, “for a person whose conscience allows this.” It was proposed that surplus domestic animals be set free: “If you do not keep them under compulsion, you will not [need to] feed them.” And meals should be prepared simply: “the less preparation, the greater the simplicity.” Clothing should also be just as simple, for the sole purpose of protecting the body from bad weather. It should be self-made, without adornment, and “the clothing of men and women should differ little.” Only those with families should have a permanent place of residence, while “there is no reason for a single person to curtail his freedom by attaching himself to one place.” Righteous Christians seeking a simple life were supposed to live “in warm and temperate” countries, “blessed with the fruits of the earth.”

The section on property and money is very interesting. “Property” is defined as “proof of the victory of the flesh over the human spirit.” Acknowledgement of land ownership is declared to be “a sin of folly.” Property and money, the Kniga zhizni… states, are the handiwork of the devil. “It is impossible to achieve perfection in life without first having rejected the use of money.” A man in whom the spirit is stronger than the flesh should remain celibate, and he who is married should live as brother and sister or may separate [from his wife]. Marriage is within God’s jurisdiction. Marriage is designated by God for procreation. “Therefore copulation between husband and wife only avoids the sin of adultery for the husband when it is required by his wife, and for the wife only when her maternal flesh requires conception.” No kinship in terms of birth in the flesh need be recognized, but only kinship in spirit, truth and way of life. Observers of the law of God should live communally in spirit, way of life, and flesh. The spiritual commune is the Universal Brotherhood, the commune of the flesh is the family. The chief business of the communal lifestyle is the Brothers’ Home – a place for the homeless, the ill, wanderers, a place of assembly and community workshops. The commune will attain perfection “when in it there will be no place of residence other than the Brothers’ Home – God’s temple, when there will be no everyday activities apart from those done in common, when there will be no property except communal property, and when Christ’s spirit will govern the commune.” The state, as well as industrial and commercial enterprises, was declared to be under the sway of the devil.

Such are the fundamental ideas contained in the Kniga zhizni…. Also included are long discourses, clearly incomprehensible to the simple peasant, on flesh and spirit, the origins of water and air, and so on. At the beginning of the century the Kniga zhizni was well known among the Freedomites. During my visit with them in the year 2000, I was interested in ascertaining whether today’s Freedomites are aware of its existence and how they perceive the doctrine expounded therein. After reading it through, all of those whom I asked unanimously recognized it as being in harmony with Freedomite beliefs and with the ideal pursued by the old-time Freedomites (and from which their descendents have long since deviated). Not only did the Freedomites in Gilpin acknowledge the printed doctrine as their own; it unexpectedly turned out that they are in possession of the book itself. About ten years ago it had come into their hands in manuscript form, lacking the first few pages, from an old Freedomite woman, whereupon it had been typed up and several copies given out. Quite recently it had been read and discussed at meetings. To be sure, Freedomites have not abandoned the memorization of psalms and stishki and their attachment to ritual that Bodyansky had spoken out against in his new catechism.

While living in England, Vladimir Chertkov and his wife Anna exerted a definite influence on the formation of the radical wing of the Doukhobor movement. During the first years, they continually supplied Canadian Doukhobors with large quantities of books, primarily those of their own “Svobodnoe Slovo” [Free Word] publishing house, with issues of the journal of the same title and with Listki Svobodnogo slova [Free Word Leaflets]. Among these books were many ethical and religious works by Tolstoy: Kratkoe izlozhenie Evangeliia [The Gospel in brief], O polovom voprose: mysli L. N. Tolstogo, sobrannye Chertkovym [On the sex question: thoughts of L. N. Tolstoy, collected by Chertkov], Mysli o Boge L. N. Tolstogo, sobrannye iz ego pisem i dnevnikov za period 1885-1900 g. [Thoughts on God by L. N. Tolstoy, collected from his letters and diaries over the period 1885-1900], and others.

The Chertkovs carried on a voluminous correspondence with the Doukhobors, endeavouring to exhort them, maintain their enthusiasm, and inform them of the admiration that their exploits were calling forth among sympathizers all over the world. Interestingly, among their addressees were many of the individuals who formed the nucleus of the Freedomite movement. The aforementioned Nikolai Zibarov lived for a time with the Chertkovs in England; later in Canada, he continued to be in close contact with them. He wrote to the Chertkovs: “We have also received all your books and L. N. Tolstoy’s letters that you sent to our address. We shall try to send the books around to those you have indicated. Another Doukhobor, Evdokim Popov, who shared the Freedomite world view, wrote to them: “The newspapers and booklets I am receiving from you are reviving me.” The Chertkovs exchanged letters with and sent books to A. Makhortov, a prominent figure in the new movement. “Such a booklet can be important for saving the life of any … send it, we will strive with you towards the love of God’s way of living,” was Makhortov’s appeal to them. The stream of literature and letters from the Chertkovs did not remain unnoticed by the local authorities. “Dear Annushka, I don’t know, but it seems the government is angry with you. The agent himself has more than once or twice stated that you are supposedly giving us instructions,” wrote Makhortov in another letter.

The official’s interest in Anna Chertkova was not unfounded. She had composed, specially for the Doukhobors, her Prakticheskii uchebnik angliiskogo iazyka, prednaznachennyi dlia russkikh poselentsev v Amerike [Practical textbook of the English language intended for Russian settlers in America], which the “Svobodnoe Slovo” publishing house published in the second half of 1900, presenting what were in her view the most important themes of conversation. This textbook was intended to help Doukhobors propagandize their views among Canadians. It included such phrases as: “All governments are founded on violence,” “they are maintained by armies, courts, prisons, and the police,” and “we can obey only what is not contrary to our conscience.” On the matter of registering marriage, divorce, and death, the Doukhobors were supposed to answer: “We will gladly answer accurately when people ask us, but we cannot promise anything”; “a promise binds a person’s conscience and action”; “even in small things we wish to be free”; “brotherly love is higher than fleshly love”; and “we do not seek pleasure in marriage.” Further on it speaks of schooling, social injustice, and land ownership: “we are not against schools, but we are not sympathetic to compulsory education”; “there are many harmful and stupid books in the world”; “if everyone believed it his duty to work, there would not be as many hungry poor folk in the world”; “we believe that private ownership of land should not exist”; “the person who is working on a piece of land now is the one who owns it”; “on the land question it is useful to read the works of two authors: the American Henry George and our Russian writer Leo Tolstoy. For several years the Chertkovs provided this textbook to Doukhobors, which undoubtedly furthered the spread of Tolstoyan ideas among the Doukhobors and the rise of the Freedomite movement.

Thus we see that by 1900 Freedomites already had a completely formulated and accepted doctrine. Moreover, some of them had begun to put the new ideas into practice. Their activity began with adoption of the simple life: they let their beards grow so as to be natural, whereas it had been traditional among Doukhobors to shave; they replaced the age-old brightly embroidered Doukhobor apparel with the plainest of clothing. Such a change was noticed immediately by everyone, and the rest of the Doukhobors were very disapproving.

The publication by Chertkov and Bonch-Bruevich of P. V. Verigin’s letters in England in 1901 contributed to an increase in the number of followers of the new teaching. Among these letters was the letter to T. Iziumchenko of January 4, 1896. Now it became the property not of a narrow circle, but of the whole community. Doukhobors considered it themselves duty bound to acquire this “new Gospel,” and parcels full of the Pis’ma… [Letters…] arrived in Canada. The Freedomite Nick Novokshonoff, whose father Kuz’ma was one of the first Sons of Freedom, has confirmed that the Freedomites “read these letters as they read other similar materials, carefully look into them and act upon them, albeit not without making mistakes.” The publication of Verigin’s letters served as a stimulus to the movement, a push towards moving from general discussion to action.

Meanwhile, tension between the Doukhobors and the government was growing. The Canadian government was perplexed, as were the English and American Quakers who had assisted the migration of the Doukhobors and had assured everybody of the law-abiding nature of the new settlers. The Doukhobors themselves were in a very ticklish situation. They did not know what to do: stay in Canada or look for new places to live, and they tossed and turned, unable to decide on anything.

At the request of the Canadian government, Aylmer Maude, an English follower of Tolstoy who had assisted the Doukhobor migration to Canada, wrote trying to convince them that acceptance of land does not contradict God’s law, as they would be able to work it in common. He also endeavoured to explain why they were being asked to register vital statistics. This letter caused the position of some Doukhobors to waver, and opinions were divided. However, A. M. Bodyansky and his close circle of Doukhobor associates obstinately continued to uphold the proclaimed three points. It is possible that Maude, who was well known and enjoyed prestige among the Doukhobors, could have succeeded in swaying the Doukhobors towards an agreement with the government, but Bodyansky, over his own signature and that of his very close companion-in-arms Fyodor Dutov, sent Maude a very harsh rebuke. It was distributed to all the villages through the collective efforts of delegated elders. A copy of the letter was sent to the Canadian government. On October 14, 1900, at Kamenka, in the northern colony (in what was soon to become northeastern Saskatchewan), where Bodyansky was living, as well as other Tolstoyans and some Stundists, Doukhobor delegates assembled in order once again to discuss the demands of the authorities. The response of the Doukhobors, judging by its style and strong social overtone, was entirely the work of Bodyansky. In the name of the commune he proclaimed that they recognize God alone to be the owner of land, and that land ownership is the cause of social injustice when those who are not working on the land own it.

In February 1901, delegates from the Doukhobors of the southern colonies addressed the government and all nations with an appeal in which they expressed the desire to leave Canada. They requested permission from the Canadian government to remain in Canada until they found a new refuge. The Doukhobors indicated a desire to settle on government-owned land and pay rent for it. At the same time they announced that they would not pay any taxes in support of the requirements of the state, that they were renouncing all civil rights and obligations and were content that their marriages and children from these marriages be considered illegitimate. Expressing their willingness to provide general figures for statistical purposes, they categorically refused to collect them systematically. The Doukhobors appealed to the governments of North America and Turkey with an explanation of their beliefs and a request to take them in.

Tolstoy knew what was happening among the Canadian Doukhobors, being informed by mail both by Tolstoyans and the sectarians themselves. Interestingly, Tolstoy spoke out against such an extreme approach to the land question and registration of vital statistics. On January 17, 1902, he wrote to Peter Verigin in Obdorsk that he was “very much against their refusal to accept land as private property,” because on more important issues “they are departing from the requirements of Christian living,” while here, for the sake of nominal recognition of ownership of land “they are throwing their lives into disarray.” That also applied to their refusal to register marriages and births. In another letter, written to Chertkov on April 19-22 of the same year, Tolstoy remarked that “here property itself is not being rejected, but only private property outside the commune, and I think this to be unimportant and on this account it is not worth quarrelling with the government and giving enemies a weapon to use against themselves and disturb their lives; moreover, much greater compromising decisions than this will have to be made: whether to go out to earn wages doing harmful work or use someone else’s money that has been acquired by evil means. The same goes for the refusal to give information. Of course, you are right, it is not for us to judge, but, as for me personally, I would not do this.”

In February 1902 the government announced that lands allotted to the Doukhobors but not yet signed for as of the first of May would be regarded as free, but later the term was extended by another six months. Evidently the Canadian authorities had been informed that on July 29th, P. V. Verigin’s term of exile would end, and they hoped that the issue would be resolved one way or another with his arrival. Some Doukhobors, not very many, it is true (in February 1902, eighteen families), had begun to make over plots of land to themselves and leave the commune to set up farms of their own. It became perfectly obvious that a portion of the Doukhobors were prepared to enter into an agreement with the government and subject themselves to Canadian laws. The Doukhobor community was impatiently awaiting the arrival of their leader to Canada.

By the spring of 1902 all the Doukhobors had already studied Verigin’s letters. Many interpreted them as a sacred commandment, and believed it necessary as his arrival approached to accomplish something very momentous for the spiritual growth of the whole Doukhobor community, to continue that movement towards Christian ideals which they had begun in the Caucasus and for which their leader had served fifteen years in exile. Besides that, the exit from the commune of even those eighteen families could turn into a chain reaction ending in the complete collapse of the sect. Only an explosion of religious enthusiasm, and new persecution and suffering, could unite them.

The conflict with the government, the activity of Bodyansky, the Chertkovs and other Tolstoyans, the publication of Verigin’s letters, the evident danger of assimilation, and the tense expectation of the arrival of “Christ” – all this prepared the way for the events that unfolded in 1902.

In the spring of 1902 the first preachers of Freedomite doctrine began to preach from village to village. “One woman is not dressing up in pretty clothes, she is walking around the settlements in simple gray apparel, she’s breaking mirrors and saying that we must destroy all temptations, because temptations have ruined people, temptations have forced the people to work hard,” Bodyansky was informed by his Doukhobor friend Evdokim Popov. “There should be freedom not only for horses and cows, but even the land has to be liberated. People should give total freedom to all creatures and to the land, so that the land will return to the original paradise in which Adam and Eve lived. Some are releasing their horses and cows and are beginning to do their work themselves. Hitching themselves to the plough are women and men, girls and boys. Others are starting to abuse, chase them around and beat them up. Some of them have quit using milk, butter, and eggs.” Even before that, the diet of the Doukhobors in Canada had been rather meagre. Now, however, the Freedomites had totally condemned themselves to a hungry existence. Early in May another Doukhobor, Vasili Potapov, reported in the same vein to Arthur St. John: “As you see, all of these people are striving towards perfection, but how they will achieve it, I do not know,” he concluded.

Both correspondents remarked on the fact that some Doukhobors had been going on very prolonged fasts, a phenomenon that had not previously been characteristic of the sect. Thoughts of liberating their cattle had been in their minds for a long time. As early as the spring of 1901, Evdokim Popov had written to V. D. Bonch-Bruevich: “My beloved brother, what do you think about the animals we torment day and night and do not see ourselves. God created truth not just for people, but for all living things. Dear brother, where will there be a master craftsman capable of designing such a plough as could carry two people and plough the earth?! Or a conveyance such that two people [could] carry several puds [an Imperial Russian unit of measure equal to 36.11 lbs). Or that there be justice on Earth.” Another Doukhobor, A. S. Popov, sharing his thoughts with Bonch-Bruevich, wrote: “Surely the Lord did not create animals for humans to oppress and constrain in order to maintain their worldly life? If I wish to be liberated from slavery, I then must not have slaves, for whatever you do not wish for yourself, do not do unto others.”

In the summer of 1902 a group of Doukhobors began to go from village to village, reproaching their brethren for forsaking the spiritual for the material and agitating for them to stop constraining their cattle and to let them loose into God’s freedom. It was at that time that the name of the new wave emerged: Syny svobody [Sons of Freedom] or Svobodniki [Freedomites]. Their advocates cited the New Testament (Romans 8, 19-21): “For the creature was made subject to vanity, not willingly, but by reason of him who hath subjected the same in hope, because the creature itself shall be delivered from the bondage of corruption into the glorious liberty of the children of God.” In a group letter to the Chertkovs, the Freedomites wrote that they had decided to let their cattle go free, because “all existing life is God and is present in all. And if we are to love God (the first commandment), then we must without fail love all beings, from the human being down to the smallest living creature, and we must bow down to the spirit of love and truth.” Such an all-embracing pantheism, the notion of God as nature or life, had not previously been characteristic of Doukhobors. Of course, they said that “there is not one place where God does not dwell,” and “where love is, there is God,” but nevertheless they conceived of God as Spirit existing separately from the visible world. They were borrowing these new ideas from Tolstoy’s teachings.

The Freedomites requested the Immigration Agent in Yorkton to find a place for their cattle “in a land where they would not suffer from the frost and could feed themselves without human aid that is unnecessary, in our opinion.” The Canadian government was at a loss as to what it was these peculiar people really wanted, who with such toil had acquired these cattle, and now were asking to release them.

Talks with the government went on for two months. The government declared that it did not possess such lands, and insisted that the Freedomites abandon their escapade. On August 17th herdsmen abandoned their cattle “to the will of God.” Some of them were caught by farmers, but the majority were rounded up by men sent by the government. These cattle were sold at auction, and the money subsequently used to feed those same Freedomites. In their aspiration to give all living things freedom and thereby become liberated themselves, these Doukhobors were completely sincere. Not only Canadians, but even their own kindred Doukhobors did not understand them and made fun of them. Withstanding their derision was more difficult than carrying heavy loads on their backs or hitching themselves to ploughs and wagons.

Because the use of animal skins was equated with the eating of meat, the Freedomites decided to do away with that as well. In the village they went from house to house collecting horse collars, harness, leather foot-ware, and fur coats and, after stacking them up, burned them.

Then the Freedomites demonstratively began to give away the money in their possession to the government agent in Yorkton, declaring that they wished to render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and henceforth not be indebted to anyone.

On the whole, Tolstoy reacted approvingly to the appearance of this new wave in Doukhoborism. On August 20th, 1902 he wrote to I. M. Tregubov that as he was thinking about them, he experienced a feeling “similar to that which I would feel watching a person crawling up a mountain I should climb, who had already climbed high and was grasping for a ledge or branch by which he could immediately pull himself yet much higher, but from which he might easily slip and fall very far. I am afraid of this, but I cannot say anything to him, because I do not know how strong he is, and his very striving gladdens me. I do not agree that we should use violence against animals or children for their own good, although such a thought has somewhere crossed my mind”. In another letter to James Mavor dated November 30th, 1902, Tolstoy wrote: “I could find their conduct to be mistaken only if I were convinced that they were ignoring more important things than the use of animals. But as I do not know that, I cannot render judgment on them. While I would not have advised them to do what they have done, I nevertheless cannot help but admire their spiritually motivated self-denial.” Three years later, when a conversation at Yasnaya Polyana turned to the Doukhobors’ attitude towards animals, Tolstoy said “…that they are releasing animals is as it should be.”

With rare exceptions, the Tolstoyans also displayed a positive attitude towards the Freedomite initiatives. P. I. Biriukov had already long since abandoned leather shoes and wore “vegetarian slippers,” as Tolstoy described them. Evgenii Popov greeted this news avidly. He had written a book on working land without the use of cattle: Khlebnyi ogorod ili iaponsko-kitaiskoe ruchnoe zemledelie [The bread garden; or Japanese-Chinese manual land-tilling]. In a letter to P. V. Verigin after the latter had already arrived in Canada, he wrote that he was delighted with the news “that the brethren have decided to reject coercion and the use of domestic cattle, because this is the direct consequence of their refusal to kill and eat animals… We must use all our mental powers, do all possible experiments on working the land without cattle and without animal fertilizer, invent foot-ware and clothing without skins and wool and such like, and if all these experiments prove unsuccessful and useless, only then will we have the right to give up the struggle.”

The Freedomites hastened to resolve the issue over cattle, as they were preparing to leave Canada for warm countries where they would be nourished by “food from God” and live like Adam and Eve. Migration agitation enveloped not only the Sons of Freedom, but also other Doukhobors who did not entirely share the radicalism of their brethren. Many were convinced that as soon as Verigin arrived, migration would begin.

P. V. Verigin was delayed in Russia due to red tape in procuring an external passport; then en route to Canada he made a side trip to visit the Chertkovs in England. In the autumn of 1902, without waiting for their leader, the Sons of Freedom set off on foot “to greet the bridegroom” and spread the good news of the new doctrine. The pilgrimage began from the village of Truzhdeniye, where its initiators were living. Six families, including old people and children, started out, taking with them neither clothing nor food. They walked from village to village, and their ranks steadily increased by three or four families from each village. Different sources fix the number of participants in the trek from 1500 to 2000 people. The number of pilgrims might have been considerably greater had not P. V. Verigin’s mother spoken out against it. One of the Tolstoyans living in Kamenka at the request of V. G. Chertkov maintained a diary in which he described everything that happened in that period. In his conversations he tried to ascertain the reasons for the pilgrimage, as the Freedomites themselves understood them: “Where are you going?” “We are going into the world to restore Christ’s behest; we will go wherever it takes us, but we will not come back. It is not permissible for us to keep money, or iron – even needles.” – “Why do you not want needles?” I asked a girl of about sixteen. “Look here, our people want to free men from the mines, so they will not be tormented. We should feed ourselves only with fruits, vegetables, grain or fowl; we think we should be clothed in leaves, or go entirely naked, because to make clothing, iron and the digging of ore is necessary. We should not bury the dead, because in order to dig a grave, you need a shovel – iron. So if someone dies, we shall leave him on the road and walk on farther”… And one old man told us: “We came out to get away from smokers and vodka drinkers, everything is bad among us, we cannot do anything.” Some of them are taking with them neither needles, nor matches, nor knives, not even bags. Homes, bread, gardens, vegetables – they have abandoned everything, saying the communal treasury will list everything and sell it and the money will go to feeding them… In the north they have also removed clothing, fur coats, and so on. An old man sent a wagon, and they seized it for the treasury. In some villages they burned or tore apart vans. We must, they say, enter into a primitive state of being. Man used to have skin like animal horn, thick, and he was without clothing, except for something on his feet.” One of the wanderers thus explained his pilgrimage: “I myself do not know where I am going, but I feel the need to go. You see, this feeling – it is the voice, the spirit of Christ, which is sending me. He is the master, and I am his messenger, I do his will, the will of the Father. Man is a stranger on the Earth; a Christian should not live in one place. No matter that I could have got settled in one place and lived peacefully for myself. No, my conscience will not let me, because it is impossible to live in tranquility when people are perishing.”

For all the variety of their motivations, they all fitted within the framework of the new worldview and complemented one another. But behind them there stood deeper goals that were very important for the sect: through suffering to recover their dampened religious enthusiasm, to unite the Doukhobors, to build an insuperable barrier between them and Canadian society, thereby preventing assimilation of their community. The vast majority of the Freedomites of that time were unaware of the deep purposes underlying their pilgrimage. On the other hand, their leaders understood them perfectly well.

Singing psalms, the huge throng of poorly dressed, hungry people proceeded along Canadian roads, horrifying the inhabitants. It was already cold, and well-wishers tried to persuade the Freedomites to return to their villages, frightening them with the onset of winter, but they replied with a rhyming couplet: “Tomu zima, u kogo very nema” [It is winter for one who lacks faith]. During the trek the Freedomites dined on raw vegetables, apples, and bread given to them by tender-hearted Doukhobors and Canadians, but there were also instance in which farmers came out with rifles to confront the wanderers. In uninhabited places the Freedomites gathered and ate wild roses and cranberries. They would spend the nights wherever they could, with people in the villages, in abandoned granaries, or in haystacks. It is a wonder nobody died of cold and starvation.

The police made an effort to return the Doukhobors to their homes, but they failed. Then the women and children were detained at Yorkton, locked in barracks, and the men allowed to go on farther. The Doukhobors had become very weak and exhausted from their wanderings and from hunger. November cold spells began, and many were compelled to return home. Only four hundred people walked as far as the town of Minnedosa. They were carted back to Yorkton and along with their families already there sent by train to their places of residence.

The Freedomites wrote concerning themselves “We are out of our minds for the sake of Christ….” They desired to place themselves on a level with the poor and not to possess anything except the spirit of God and love. They explained their vagrancy by saying that they must not care about that which is liable to decay, and that “the birds neither sow nor reap, yet the Lord feeds them.” The Freedomite pilgrimage was in complete accord not only with the Kniga zhizni… [Book of Life] and P. V. Verigin’s letter to Iziumchenko, but also with Tolstoyism in its original version. Tolstoy himself believed itinerancy to be necessary for a Christian. “That which you write concerning the need for a Christian to be homeless and itinerant was for me at the very beginning of my conversion a most joyous thought that explained everything and without which genuine Christianity is incomplete and incomprehensible,” he wrote in 1903 to E. I. Popov. The life of a wanderer followed organically from Tolstoy’s teaching, and what is more, from the Gospel. And, to be sure, the type of the Tolstoyan tramp existed in small numbers in Russia.

In December 1902 Peter Verigin arrived in Canada. The first thing he did was to tour all of the villages trying to calm people down, and he met with the leaders of the Freedomites. After expressing a high opinion of the pilgrimage, Verigin advised all of its participants to return to cattle-raising and the use of money. He declared that Canada was the very country in which Doukhobors could flourish, and that the guarantee of their prosperity is communal life, and another important prerequisite for their success is livestock, especially draught animals. To the Freedomites’ objection that sons of God should not use force against animals, Verigin replied that horses will be their co-workers and members of the commune: they would be working together to feed themselves. The “horseless ones” who had come many miles on foot to meet the leader, were disheartened by such an announcement. But the vast majority of the Doukhobors followed their leader’s counsel. However, a small group “had doubts about returning to their corrupt possessions,” seeing in this a violation of God’s law.

P. V. Verigin settled the land question just as quickly. He persuaded the Doukhobors to fulfill the requirements of the authorities, and two thousand five hundred homestead applications, filled out and signed, were handed over to the officials. Later, when in 1907 the government began to demand of the Doukhobors acceptance of citizenship, threatening them otherwise with leaving them only fifteen acres per head, Verigin purchased lands for the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood in the wild mountains of British Columbia, further away from civilization, and the majority of commune members moved to the new location. As they purchased the land, the Community Doukhobors were overlooking what they had quite recently declared about the land belonging to God and that it could not be bought or sold. Community members paid to their central office taxes on the land, whereupon the managers settled with the government. However, the idea of the land being God’s, which had earlier captured the minds and hearts of the “radical Freedomites,” could not disappear without a trace. The Freedomites were a great hindrance to Verigin, who had launched feverish activity in the purchase of inventory and livestock for the commune, and the construction of mills and elevators. He could not bring himself to take any repressive measures against them, as he himself had written about the things they believed in and were preaching.

After the pilgrimage of 1902, the authorities decreed that the Freedomites be settled in three villages in the south colony and in three villages in the north colony. In these settlements policemen would periodically call in to observe the behaviour of the inhabitants. The authorities undertook to supply the Freedomites with provisions; the latter demanded that they be brought “legitimate food”: fruits and vegetables, and they refused flour. On principle the Freedomites did not wish to work, as they had abandoned physical labour. The winter and spring of 1903 they spent in painful meditation as to how they should now live and how to understand the leader who suddenly had renounced what he himself had recently written in his letters, which still represented, in their opinion, true Christianity.

In the spring of 1903 a group of Freedomites began to walk about the villages in the nude, preaching renunciation of physical labour and a return to nature. The Freedomite E. Vlasov explained the reasons for disrobing as follows: “As the Lord God created Adam naked, and we were born naked, we uncovered our flesh to display our love, if only by coming naked to approach God with pure hearts. We walked naked around the villages, begged the people not to enter into their corrupt possessions and to be like us, revealing the new life.” Another Freedomite, A. Makhortov, in a letter to the Chertkovs, emphasized that “it is necessary to pay heed to the lawful life and how Christ and the apostles lived. They achieved such perfection that they could go naked…” and further on he continued that he was still disquieted by the thought “that I find in myself a sinful body, I am ashamed of everything – can it really be that God created this? No, that is not right. This is my responsibility.” The Freedomite F. Riazantsev supposed that Adam and Eve soiled their white apparel by their sin, while Freedomites had gotten rid of passions and sin and “then we took off our clothing – manufactured by human hands, and broke the seal of the sin for which the human race is answering. We killed that sin in the flesh, in our natural state called in on all the people, putting on white apparel such as human eye has not seen from the beginning of time.”

Under the influence of the new teaching, with its incessant striving back to nature, the entire way of life of the Freedomites changed. They turned against bread, because they wanted to prove by their example that one could live “being fed by God.” “These are the foods we are now using: raw foodstuffs: oatmeal, potatoes, beets, radishes, carrots,” Makhortov was describing the life of the Sons of Freedom in a letter to Tregubov. “But even that food is not lawful, it is contrary to our conscience. We are using it because we do not have any fruit. And our main food should be fruit grown by God himself to feed mankind. We are eating raw vegetables because by this we are preaching before the eyes of the people that they should believe in nature, and that a person can live without bread.” At that time they were even eating in a special way: taking turns biting from a turnip or potato so as to stress equality. And if something had to be cut, they would use a stone. Freedomites even tried to feed themselves on ordinary grass, like peaceful herbivorous animals. Naturally, such experiments were not greeted with understanding by those around them.

Freedomites ceased interring the dead, it being impermissible to bury a corpse in the living earth. “It is imprudent for the sake of an unnecessary small matter to disturb moist Mother Earth by digging. For another thing, we must enter into the nature of Adam and Eve, that is, they did not have claws; they could not dig into the earth with their fingers; therefore, that is also unnatural for their descendents.”

After the treks of 1902 and 1903, religious pilgrimages became a tradition and turned into a sort of ritual. Every year in the spring, Freedomites set off on foot preaching around the Doukhobor settlements, and in cities near and far. In these marches, fifteen to twenty persons would take part, but in 1907 at Fort William, Ontario, eighty people participated. It became a common occurrence for them to walk along the street of their settlement or around it in the nude, singing psalms. A Freedomite would always carry a canvas bag with a change of clothing so that it would be possible at any moment to set off on a pilgrimage.

The Freedomites renounced the family, for marriage too amounts to bondage and violence. Makhortov wrote in 1904 to the Chertkovs: “And to have a peaceful life and long-lasting peace in one’s soul, I think that evil arises from appropriating something as one’s own, even, truth to tell, a wife. You live with her in the flesh, and that’s all you think about. If she happens to chat with someone about some necessary matters, I am seized with jealousy, and think the worst. And that’s how she lives, and it’s the fault of you and that brother. Thus evil emerges. It occurred to me that the law of God teaches us to love even our enemies, and I decided to live with her as brother and sister: spiritually. Only then did I begin to love everybody.” “We regard everyone as brothers and sisters, there are no husbands and wives,” Makhortov developed this theme in another letter: “All women are virgins who should prepare the lamps and meet the bridegroom, Christ, chaste.”

The sex question, to which the Tolstoyans in their letters devoted much space and which proved beyond their powers, the Freedomites resolved quickly and in a fundamental way. They entirely did away with the concept of marriage. Makhortov cited as an example for emulation the Virgin Mary, who, in his words, when God demanded it of her, gave birth to Jesus, and did not get married. The men and women slept apart, and engaged in sexual relations only when a woman wanted to have a child. Even in such an instance “a sister should make a baby openly and freely, with whomever she chooses.” Makhortov and others believed that conception is a natural thing, and should be performed in the presence of others. Indeed, over a twelve-year period two such babies were born among Freedomites. On the other hand, children were now free, no longer tied hand and foot to their mothers. It is interesting to note that the women enthusiastically supported all these ideas about family and marriage. In the Kniga zhizni khristianskoi [Book of the Christian life] it is written that man and woman should differ as little as possible externally, and the Freedomites endeavored to wear floor-length wide cotton shirts that were identical for both sexes.

The Freedomites reduced their material needs to a minimum. They would work only when necessary to earn money to buy some absolutely essential material object. They would not work for future benefit, but lived one day at a time, as indeed the Gospel calls upon believers to do, and as Tolstoy had advised in his famous letter.

Peter the Lordly, as the Doukhobors had begun to call their leader in Canada, was unable to do anything with the Freedomites. One day near one of the villages, upon meeting Verigin riding in a char-à-banc, the Freedomites attempted to unharness the horse and unseat its rider. Their action greatly angered the leader, and he promised them each “twenty-five hot ones.” Verigin forbade the communal Doukhobors from allowing Freedomites into the villages to sleep over or to give them bread. After convincing themselves that the rest of the Doukhobors would not accept what they were advocating, twenty-eight Freedomites set off for Yorkton on foot. Three miles out, they disrobed and walked into the city in the nude. They were arrested and sentenced to three months imprisonment. Verigin was allowed to take the brethren back on condition that they would promise to live submissively. He tried to persuade them to give him their word, but had to leave empty-handed.

For the Freedomites, those three months served in a Regina jail were an absolute hell. They refused to come out to work or obey the orders of the prison administration, so as not to be accomplices to the violence which the jail represented. They even refused to attend to their own needs, because they had not ended up there voluntarily. They requested Christian food: fruits, vegetables and nuts, and refused to eat anything else. For this the jailers cruelly mocked them: they beat them unconscious, poured ice water over them, stuffed a man’s head into a chamber pot until he began to choke, and so on.
Verigin gradually began to apply ever more radical measures against the Sons of Freedom: he called upon the Community Doukhobors to drive out the Freedomites by force; he himself sent for the police when they organized a prayer session around his house. No admonitions or punishments of any kind were of any avail. The impression was that the Freedomites had gotten out of the leader’s control.

We are confronted with a most important and complex question, that of the Doukhobors’ attitude to their leader and his role in the Freedomite movement. As mentioned, Doukhobors believed that Christ abides in the flesh of their leaders. Although this was kept in greatest secrecy, it was impossible to hide it from the Tolstoyans who lived with the Doukhobors in Canada. The Tolstoyans were surprised, and wrote to one another and to Tolstoy about this, but nevertheless they continued to think that the Doukhobors were perceiving their leader-Christ as a prophet, a chosen one of God, a man who had achieved the highest degree of perfection. Some guessed that the Doukhobor Christ was not just a prophet at all, but was in essence the Son of God. In the summer of 1901, Matryona Krasnikova and thirteen other Doukhobor women wrote a letter to the Canadian government which produced a bombshell effect on everyone:

“Enough of your boasting of your rights, authorities, and superiority! Who is higher than the King of Heaven and God? God created the sky and adorned it with all heavenly beauty: the sun and its rays, and the moon, and the stars in their glory… Our Lord is high above all tongues, as are his blessings and to all ages his mercy… This Lord is our guide Peter Vasil’evich Verigin. His beauty is in his exceeding wisdom; in flesh he is pure. We strive towards Him, honour him as God and King and with fervent desire submit ourselves to his authority.”

These Doukhobor women were expressing the traditional point of view regarding their leader. Verigin himself, not denying the presence of the Divine Spirit within himself, explained that Christ is not God, but an angel of light sent by God. In Canada – and this had evidently begun back in the Caucasus – as a result of all the events they had endured and Tolstoyan propaganda, certain changes had taken place in the religious world view of the Doukhobors. Some Doukhobors had begun to believe that God overflows everywhere in nature, that he is in every creature and in every person. An expression such as “God in one’s soul” they began to take literally: Every person is God, one to a lesser degree and another to a greater degree, while the leader most completely incarnates this Divine Spirit. Doukhobors connected this with their old ideas of the God-leader and elevated the Divine essence within themselves. Naturally, given such an approach, the importance of each person’s inner revelation grew. Based on this, all thoughts and decisions that came into the heads of any of the Freedomites was accepted by them all as the voice of God. But this voice, if we follow their ideas, was the voice of the very Divine Spirit that in the most complete form was incarnate in their leader. And if this Spirit prompts them to do something, then that means that their leader has sent them to perform a heroic deed or to suffer. By spoken word the leader might, on the contrary, dissuade, verbally abuse or beat them, but this is done intentionally, firstly, to test whether the faith of the Freedomites and other Doukhobors is strong, and secondly, the leader must conceal who he is; otherwise, they will crucify (i.e. kill) him as they did Jesus of Nazareth.

Because this aspect of Freedomite belief was kept in strictest secrecy, any testimony from participants in the movement is for us most valuable. In 1905, one I. Mulchenko, a Tolstoyan of Ukrainian peasant origin who had previously lived in the United States, affiliated himself with the Freedomites. This is what he wrote in 1906 to the Chertkovs: “The communalists venerate Peter Verigin as Christ and God; they have even said that to my face. As for the Freedomites, I had not been aware that they acknowledge him even more as God than the communalists do. They say that he created everything that exists. In my presence they held back, but then blurted it out. Then later they began to criticize him – Peter Verigin, that is – and began to call him “king of the communalists.” I was right there among them, and I could see that this was a pretense, as they had totally acknowledged that he is God, and that he even provides the rain. At that point I could not agree, and began to say to them that he is not God, but a son of God and our brother, as are all such people, and I began to point to “Uncle” L. N. Tolstoy and to them. You see, I said, Tolstoy and Chertkov are also such people – they are sons of God, and he is a son of God, and all people are sons of God, and all are brothers to one another. Alyosha Makaseyeff and Vasili Strelaeff began to be displeased with me, and said: “Oh what kind of person are you, wanting to compare yourself to God! No, brother, he is God, and we are his children”… And he told me that when Peter orders the communalists to go after us and beat us, that is only because he is testing to see whether they will beat us or not… he thus divides us all into two parts, when he orders them to drive us away from here, and when he has divided us Doukhobors into two, he then will come to join us himself.”

Such a view of the leader and the purpose of his activities provided Freedomites with a pretext to reinterpret his words in their own way, investing in any of his pronouncements whatever meaning suited them. These notions have been maintained among Freedomites right up to the present day. Never in the Caucasus had there been any such reinterpretation of the words of leaders, never such “upside-down thinking.”

The first destructive act carried out by Freedomites was the destruction of a strip of mature wheat. Incidentally, they had grown this crop themselves without even the use of animals. Present-day Freedomites describe this occurrence as follows. Peter Verigin had arrived in the south colony at the village of Truzhdeniye, where he was shown the strip of mature wheat. He was pleased and said: “Very, very good bread-grain. Now [you] can bring it down by the heads.” Everyone understood that it was time to begin harvesting, but the Freedomites interpreted his words in their own way. During the night, eight men hitched to a wooden roller flattened part of this wheat crop, while two women stood praying and singing: “Bravely, friends, do not lose courage in your unequal battle.” One of the participants, A. Makhortov wrote about this incident, that “again our hearts were moved by the Lord to engage in spiritual work,” and that their purpose was “to show that we should not place our hopes on human science, but on God.” In another letter he explained the reason for this act even more clearly: “And we rolled the heads into moist Mother earth in order to show an example for all the people that from now on we must not disturb her, but she, moist Mother earth, should provide for man, as assigned by our Lord, fruits and vegetables.” The communalists gave them a beating, and at that the matter came to an end. However, on the fifth day after the destruction of the wheat, “The Lord revealed” to them the idea of burning a binder, as machines destroy the boundaries set by the Heavenly Father and violate moist Mother Earth, and all human inventions will be consumed by fire.” People ran up to put the fire out. Peter Verigin reported the Freedomites to the police. The arsonists were arrested and sentenced to six months in jail. Two of them did not return alive. The Freedomite V. V. Popov explained their action as follows: “… we burned an English factory-made implement by which people and every living creature are enslaved and killed, like tools of war; we burned the harvest-reaping machine just as we burned the weapons of war in Russia. Moreover, we intended to burn all machines and all depravity-creating factory-made equipment, but the Satan-serving Canadian government arrested us.”

Many years later, the son of one of those involved in the burning of the binder, Nick Novokshonoff, tried to explain the action of his father and other Freedomites: “Looking far into the future, the Freedomites condemned science and its various achievements, including the machine. They foresaw that all these conveniences achieved by science would not bring good to mankind, but the opposite – evil, unhappiness, and even death. In their pursuit of glitter, people are losing faith in God and are even forgetting him… The Freedomites burned the binder for that very reason, because it was the first machine that the Doukhobors had acquired.” The destructive activities of Freedomites were directed against civilization and its fruits.

Bodyansky’s reaction to these actions, observed from afar, is interesting. Although in a letter to Makhortov he called the Freedomite antics mistaken, he did not condemn them: “And I can by no means cast upon you even a shadow of condemnation. On the contrary, I sympathize with you whole-heartedly and with all my thinking I commend you, notwithstanding all your mistakes. And I say this: go ahead, press on toward the new life. It is better to live there, even if you make mistakes, even if you stumble at every step, than to be paralyzed on the spot, accepting spiritual death and turning from a human being into a lower creature.” Bodyansky held the Freedomites in high regard, considering them to be superior to the communalists, believing communal life to be the very lowest form. Bodyansky called attempts by Freedomites to return to the primitive state “a highly genuine, vitally important aspiration,” understanding this to mean simplicity of physical life. He believed, as did the Freedomites, that culture and science enslave and corrupt a person and make him insincere, and all of the behaviour of his friends, including the burning of the binder and public copulation, Bodyansky considered as a protest against “cultured hypocrisy and deception” and he believed it to be “a matter of the greatest importance, in every way deserving of imitation.” Bodyansky even regarded with sympathy the Freedomite aspiration to walk around in the nude, as “there is no sense in covering oneself up out of shame.” What he did reprove them for was that while exposing hypocrisy, they were tolerating violence and artificiality in their actions,” acting not out of necessity, but with deliberation. The Freedomites in turn wrote Bodyansky touching letters, believing him to be a person close to them in spirit: “Dear old Aleksasha, although we are in the flesh far separated from one another, yet by the spirit and our inner sense of the true path we are united.”

Leo Tolstoy also regarded the Freedomites with understanding. He censured Verigin for his passion for material goods: “They built a comfortable home for him, and he has servants. Despotic rule. Konkin is his minister. All this will fall apart. The nudes will come to the rescue,” he told Dusan Makovicky in August 1905. The next year, when P. V. Verigin traveled to Russia with a group of Doukhobors and visited Yasnaya Polyana, Tolstoy “began to speak in defense of those who had ‘disrobed’.” He referred to them as “spiritually alive.”

How could the Tolstoyan ideal of nonviolence, which the Freedomites also preached, be reconciled with their destructive and, generally speaking, violent acts? Let us first analyze the position of Tolstoy himself on this question. In 1901 in Russia, the peasants known as New Stundists – essentially Tolstoyans – living in the village of Pavlovka, Sumskii uezd [district], Kharkov guberniia [province], where at the end of the nineteenth century D. A. Khilkov and A. M. Bodyansky had led a propaganda campaign, destroyed a Russian Orthodox church. Tolstoy set forth his attitude toward this act in a letter to I. M. Tregubov as follows: “As to whether the Pavlovtsy acted well or badly when they destroyed a church, of course I would say, badly, just as badly as people who have destroyed a factory not built by them and needed by others. However, there is an extenuating circumstance, namely, that the church has been distorting the great teaching that people need, just as it would be an extenuating circumstance for those who had destroyed a factory that manufactures instruments for killing and executions.” So Tolstoy, albeit with reservations, allowed for the possibility of destroying somebody else’s property in the name of a higher purpose. As far as his own property was concerned, that was apparently not up for discussion. Everyone is free to do with property as his conscience dictates.

Accusations against the Tolstoyans streaming from the pages of the Russian Orthodox missionary press, blaming them for the actions of the New Stundists of Pavlovka, stung Tregubov and the Chertkovs to the quick. In 1902 they questioned sectarians about the permissibility of violence. They received replies from Freedomites N. Zibarov, G. Plotnikov and G. Kanygin. To the question as to whether is it a good or a bad thing to revolt against oppressors and kill rulers, they answered in an entirely Christian spirit that it is necessary to pray for one’s enemies and turn the other cheek. To the question about whether it is a good or a bad thing to destroy Russian Orthodox churches and icons, they answered very evasively: “It is not good to smash a church, because for God a person is a church and temple of the living God and icon,” while they do not wish to attend a church made by human hands; that is, they are again talking not about a church building as such, but about killing a person who constitutes God’s temple. Those who dispersed the orthodox church of Christ acted badly. Again, by the words “orthodox church of Christ” the Doukhobors did not mean the Russian Orthodox Church at all, but the inhabitants of Pavlovki and themselves. On the question of destroying an Orthodox Church, they did not give a negative answer. Further they amplified by saying that if something is theirs, they may get rid of it if they don’t need it. “And as for them [the Pavlovtsy – S. I.], as their conscience allowed, so they acted.” If, however, the opinions of owners diverged, “and some wish to destroy while some wish to preserve, they then should destroy only that which is within the sphere of their free will and conscience.” No unambiguous condemnation of violence follows from this kind of reasoning, but loopholes remain in the form of “willpower and conscience.”

As he explains the Freedomite conception of violence, the modern-day Freedomite T. Savinkoff says that “it is based on the idea that if material goods are the cause of all divisions and discord, it would then be more prudent for people to sacrifice material goods and remain alive themselves as brothers and sisters, even if naked, but alive and safe,” that is, for people’s own good, for a higher purpose, it is permissible to sacrifice material blessings – that is, property. Clearly, the position of the Freedomites on this issue turns out to resemble that of Tolstoy.

From the beginning, of course, Tolstoy’s teachings disseminated among the Doukhobors had been distorted by Verigin and his close circle. But even when preached by the Tolstoyans themselves, they passed Tolstoy’s ideas through the prism of their own worldviews and experiences. Khilkov, after his journey to Canada, aligned himself with European revolutionaries, became disillusioned with pacifism, and, as is well known, fell as a volunteer soldier at the front during World War I. Bodyansky had an extremist mentality. Once when the appeal of the Chertkovs and Tregubov “K russkim sektantam” [To Russian sectarians] came into his hands, he unexpectedly expressed himself frankly on the theme of nonviolence. He wrote that the cornerstone of Christ’s teaching was not the doctrine of nonviolence, but “the way of Christ,” that is, the aspiration to a higher life, in his view, that a “revolutionary user of force, laying down his life for others (according to our beliefs), is closer to Christ than someone jabbering only in the language of a Christian non-resistor.” Bodyansky admired the Beguny [or “Jumpers” – a radical Russian sect] of Kherson, who starved themselves rather than submit to the census, and the Pavlovtsy, who desired to suffer: “How great before the court of my judgement is the significance of a life of faith, and how worthless is knowledge of the truth without its application to life.” It is precisely this quality – living by faith – that he strove to inculcate in the Freedomites.

Ten years after the burning of the binder, Freedomites burned a very beautiful community building in the village of Otradnoye in Saskatchewan that had been built according to the wish and design of Peter the Lordly. Then once more a lull set in, and it seemed that the burning of the binder and the house in Otradnoye were regrettable atypical occurrences in the life of the Canadian Freedomites, who had completely dedicated themselves to self-perfection in the vineyards of the Christian life. For the most part, their public activity was limited to disrobing as a sign of protest against oppressive measures of the authorities. But from the beginning of the 1920s, when the government instituted a strict policy requiring the Doukhobors to accept English schools, burnings began anew, and there were times when several buildings would burn down in a single night. The destructive activity of the Freedomites was gathering momentum, and all this in the name of God and for the salvation of humanity. These people passed through prisons and insane asylums, their children were taken away to foundling hospitals and reform schools. They returned from such places sick, and some never returned. They would burn their own homes and live for ten years near the walls of the prison where their husbands, sons, and brothers were serving their sentences. All this so as not to go back on their precepts concerning God’s ownership of the land and living a peaceful life. But in spite of all their self-denial, they were doomed to defeat; they had no future. Some abandoned Freedomite ways, while others sank ever lower into vices concealed by verbose Christian phraseology.

I am reminded of a letter from Countess Alexandra Andreyevna Tolstaya to Lev Nikolaevich, in which she wrote of his responsibility towards those to whom he preached his doctrine:

Indeed self-denial is a virtue that is not easy and in general is not innate in humans. Will not the time come when, depressed by their awareness of the impossibility of fulfilling the prescriptions of the Gospel in their literal sense, they will become muddled in their thinking and fall even lower than before, however inclined to goodness they had been? Your responsibility towards them brings fear to my heart…

Dr. Svetlana A. Inikova is a senior researcher at the Institute of Ethnography and Anthropology of the Russian Academy of Sciences in Moscow.  Considered one of the world’s foremost authorities on the Doukhobors, Svetlana has conducted extensive archival research and has participated in several major ethnographic expeditions, including field research among the Doukhobors of Georgia and Azerbaijan in the late 1980’s and 1990’s and a North American ethnographic expedition on the Doukhobors in 1990.  She has published numerous articles on the Doukhobors in Russian and English and is the author of History of the Doukhobors in V.D. Bonch-Bruevich’s Archives (1886-1950s): An Annotated Bibliography (Ottawa: Legas and Spirit Wrestlers, 1999) and Doukhobor Incantations Through the Centuries (Ottawa: Legas and Spirit Wrestlers, 1999).

For more online articles about the Doukhobors by Svetlana A. Inikova, see Spiritual Origins and the Beginnings of Doukhobor History as well as Doukhobor Holidays and Rituals in the Caucasus.

Doukhobor History of the Lundbreck-Cowley Area of Alberta

by Margaret Salekin

In 1915-1917, the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood (CCUB) purchased 13,500 acres of land in the Lundbreck and Cowley areas of Alberta. There, in the foothills of the Rockies, they planted extensive grain fields, raised large livestock herds and established thirteen communal villages as well as a flourmill, two elevators, central storehouse, prayer home, blacksmith shops, granaries and barns. Following the demise of the CCUB in 1937-1938, the lands were sold and the villages were dismantled. A number of Doukhobor families, however, chose to remain in the area as farmers, where they continued to practice their faith and culture. The following article, reproduced by permission from ISKRA Nos. 2034-2036 (Brilliant: USCC, 2010), examines the history of Doukhobor settlement and life in the area, through the experiences of the Konkin family.

On March 11th, 2010, the Doukhobor Prayer Home in Lundbreck, AB was designated as a Provincial Historic Resource. Today, the Prayer Home stands as a reminder of a once thriving Doukhobor community that worked and developed the land in the Lundbreck-Cowley area of south western Alberta.

How did this community come into existence? Let us follow the development through the experiences of the Harry Konkin family.

Harry and Nastia Konkin with their four daughters near Lundbreck, AB c. 1915.

Some years after the migration of the Doukhobors from Saskatchewan to British Columbia, it was realized that land needed to be bought for grain growing and raising horses. The grain was needed for milling and for feed. The horses were needed for the community in BC where they were used for logging, etc. Land was chosen in the Cowley and Lundbreck area of Alberta. In 1915, fourteen workers and their families made the move from BC. Some of the first settlers were Samuel Verigin, Vanya Ewashen, Misha Maloff, Fedya Sookochoff, Vasya Zibin and their families. The first land that was purchased was nine miles north of Lundbreck and it was given the name Bogatoi Rodnik. This is where the Harry Konkin family eventually settled. In 1916, more men were added to the workforce: Vanya Ribalkin, George Maloff and sons, George and Samuel Kalmakoff, Michael Salekin and family, Cecil N. Maloff and others. Peter Lordly Verigin also approached Harry Konkin, who was a horse trainer and asked him to gather his family and other dependable people who were capable of working with horses to relocate to south western Alberta. Steam engines, grain separators (threshing machines) and ploughs were purchased. Oxen, cows and horses were acquired.

CCUB steam engines – “Doukhobor Plow Horses” – at Cowley, AB, c. 1925.

Approximately, 10,000 acres were bought in Lundbreck and Cowley. Another 2,000 acres were purchased a couple of years later. Thirteen villages were established: four in Lundbreck, five in Cowley and four others in the vicinity. Some of the villages and names of some of the people who lived there were:

  • Bogatoi Rodnik – Verigin, Ewashen, Maloff, Sookochoff, Zibin
  • Lundbreck – Hoobanoff, Konkin
  • Stoopnikoff Village – Stoopnikoff, Parakin
  • Ribalkin Village – Ribalkin, Faminoff, Maloff, Ozeroff
  • Faminoff Village – Paul Faminoff with his three sons, Fred, Joe and Sam
  • Gradovaya Dolina – Kabatoff, Kooznetsoff, Verigin
  • Sibir – Vishloff, Konkin, Shkuratoff, Sookochoff
  • Cowley – Vishloff, Hoobanoff, Kalmakoff, Konkin, Potapoff
  • Bozhiya Milost – Verigin, Negraeff
  • Maloff Village – Maloff, Sookochoff
  • Village east of Cowley – Maloff, Babakaeff, Vishloff
  • Bozhiya Celo – Ewashen, Bojey, Kooznetsoff, Barisenkoff, Stoopnikoff, Larin, Shkuratoff

The community also built a flour mill in Lundbreck and grain elevators in both Cowley and Lundbreck. A house was built for Peter Lordly Verigin in Cowley that he used when he visited the community and checked on the farming operation. This building was also used as the headquarters for the community. A Community home was also located on the same street. The community which grew to 360 people prospered until the break-up of the CCUB in 1938. The community hall was then dismantled.

CCUB flour mill at Lundbreck, AB. Relocated there from Pincher Creek in 1922, it was operated until its destruction in 1936.

In the late 1930’s, some families left the CCUB and began to work for themselves. Some found employment with the CPR while others rented land that they farmed. After the demise of the CCUB in 1938, the number of Doukhobors in the Lundbreck-Cowley area decreased by a third. Most of these people moved to British Columbia to be part of the larger group living there.

The National Trust Co. made the Alberta members responsible for over $91,000 of the CCUB debt. Assessments were made of the various lands to total the indebtedness. In many cases the member took possession of the land that he was already residing on, making payments and eventually obtaining a clear title as a private owner. Payment for the land was made on a one-third crop share basis as the members did not have cash. They were given ten years to clear the debt, which they all did.

Doukhobor village of Bogatoy Rodnik north of Lundbreck, AB which two son-in-laws of the Konkin’s – Peter M. Salekin and Anton W. Mushta – purchased in 1938.

By this time, all of Harry and Nastia Konkin’s daughters had married. Their youngest child, a son Harry, passed away at the young age of twenty-four. Two brothers-in-law, Peter M. Salekin and Anton W. Mushta, husbands of Helen and Emma, bought Bogatoi Rodnik, the farm where they had been living. Their mother-in-law Nastia, who was now a widow, lived there with them. The oldest daughter Mary and her husband Alex F. Vishloff bought communal land near Cowley and their youngest daughter Ann and her husband Mike S. Verigin bought communal land further east. Their other daughter Nastia and her husband Nick A. Shkuratoff bought communal land west of Bogatoi Rodnik. The Shkuratoff family later relocated to the Slocan Valley of BC.

Along with the farming, the two brothers-in-law, Peter and Anton went to work in the coal mines of the Crowsnest Pass to help pay for the land. This additional income allowed them to occasionally buy such luxury items as corn flakes and peanut butter for their families. Large fields of potatoes were also planted. After the harvest, sacks of potatoes were sold door to door on weekends, in the mining communities of the Crowsnest Pass.

Alex F. and Mary H. (nee Konkin) Vishloff, Lundbreck, AB. Nastia H. (nee Konkin) and Nick A. Shkuratoff, Lundbreck, AB.

When the sons in the two families were old enough to work with their fathers, it became evident that more land was needed to sustain the two families. The Mushta family sold their share to the Salekin family and bought a farm east of Lundbreck. For a number of years, they retained some land for pasture at Bogatoi Rodnik.

The people in the Lundbreck and Cowley areas continued to uphold their Doukhobor religion and culture. A Russian school existed for a couple of years. An organization for the youth was established. Petrov Dyen was commemorated annually with picnics at Bogatoi Rodnik, near the Castle River at Bozhaya Dolina or on the South Fork River between Pincher Creek and Cowley.

Helen H. (nee Konkin) and Peter M. Salekin, Lundbreck, AB. Emma H. (nee Konkin) and Anton W. Mushta and son Peter.

Sobraniye were held in individual homes. Visiting choirs from BC and other guests were always welcomed. Choir presentations were held in the local community hall. Rent had to be paid for the use of the community hall and private homes often became crowded and their location, at times, was inconvenient. It was decided that they needed to build a dom for their own use. Fundraisers were held. The women held raffles where prizes included a homemade wool blanket and rugs that were made on the loom. Suppers, such as vereniki feeds, were held. All the ingredients for the suppers and the items for the raffles were donated. Construction commenced in 1953 with the men working as volunteers.

On August 22nd, 1955, a meeting, chaired by Peter C. Maloff, was held at the Peter M. Salekin farm at Bogatoi Rodnik. It was decided by all those present to register their organization as the United Doukhobors of Alberta Lundbreck-Cowley. The first chairman was Steve S. Faminow and the secretary-treasurer was William S. Kabatoff. The first trustees were Alex A. Vishloff,

Peter C. Maloff and Mike S. Faminow.

Ann H. (nee Konkin) and Mike S. Verigin, Lundbreck, AB.

Though it was not entirely completed, the dom was first used in 1955 for the funeral of Paul N. Potapoff, who served as the manager of the CCUB in that area.

Once again, in the 1950s and 1960s, the number of Doukhobors living in the Lundbreck-Cowley area continued to decline. The older generation was aging. In some families, sons or daughters were taking over the farming operations. Others began to leave the family farms to either further their education or to obtain employment in the cities.

This trend was evident in the Salekin family. Peter and Helen’s oldest sons, Mike and Harry continued to farm together with their parents. Additional land was acquired south of Lundbreck and Mike and his wife, Mary moved to this farm but they continued to farm as one unit. They began to do custom work to help pay for the land and the farm machinery. Eggs, cream and butter were also sold. Larry, the youngest son in the family, had always helped with the farm work but upon graduation from high school, he pursued post-secondary education and obtained a teaching degree in Lethbridge.

Aerial view of Bogatoy Rodnik taken in the early 1960’s.

Larry and I were married in 1970. We lived at the Bogatoye (as it was fondly referred to) for a few months after our marriage and I had the opportunity to learn some of its history from Larry’s parents. I enjoyed listening to my Mother-in-law’s stories of her experiences. She moved south of Lundbreck to live with her husband’s parents once she was married. The Salekin family lived there with the Parakin, Semenoff and other families. Their two oldest sons were born there. The young family then moved to Bogatoi Rodnik. By this time, another house had been built there by the Doukhobors. This house was referred to as the “blue” house while the original house was referred to as the “yellow” house as that was its colour at the time of purchase. Each of these houses was home to 50-55 people. Mother-in-law talked of taking her weekly turns at preparing meals for all who lived in the house, milking cows, working in the large gardens, etc. She also explained how an area of the house, bedroom, referred to as the hornitsa, that consisted of a sitting room and a bedroom, was used only by Peter Lordly Verigin and later by Peter P Verigin (Chistiakov) during their visits to the area. In the 1950s when John J and Laura P Verigin toured the area with a choir, the Salekin family was pleased to welcome them into their home to see where the elder Verigins had stayed.

In 1971, Peter and Helen sold the farm to Mike and Harry. They moved to Grand Forks, BC to spend their retirement years living near their daughter, Vera and her husband, Pat Semenoff. They joined the USCC organization. Good health allowed them to enjoy and participate in various events and functions. For a number of years, Helen was able to participate in the Ladies Organization (cooking groups).

The two brothers continued to farm for three more years. In 1974, after almost sixty years (1915-1974) of Doukhobor ownership, the farm was sold.

Cousins Nick N. Shkuratoff and Harry P. Salekin taken in front of the barn at Bogatoy Rodnik. Note the hand-carved shingles on the front of barn.

Today, the original house that had been bought with the land in 1915 and the large barn, with room for up to fifty horses, which had been built by the Doukhobors, are still in use and are still in good condition. There is an interesting fact to note. The house had been ordered from the Eaton’s catalogue in the late 1800s by the original owner of the land, a Mr Terril. Such houses are called Eaton’s houses. The second house was dismantled in the early 1940s. The last of the former CCUB land in the Lundbreck area was sold in the early 1990s by the sons of Jack and Mabel Semenoff. Mabel was a granddaughter to Harry and Nastia Konkin and the daughter of Anton and Emma Mushta. The flour mill once stood on the land that was sold by Vince. Terry sold his land which had once been part of the Faminoff village. A small amount former CCUB land in the Cowley area is stilled owned by Maloff descendants.

During its 50+ year history, the Dom was used for many occasions. Moleniye, sobraniye, funeral services and even a couple of wedding showers were held there. To this day, the Dom has never been used for a wedding. In 1994-1995, the Voices for Peace Choir held practices there. Meetings of the CCUB Trust Fund Board were held there when it was Alberta’s turn to host the delegates. Council of Doukhobors in Canada (Unity) meetings were held in Lundbreck because of its central location between BC and Saskatchewan. Guests were always welcomed and many meals were served. With the decline in the membership came the decline in the usage of the Dom. The commemoration of Petrov Dyen continues to be observed annually at the end of June. The Dom is available for use whenever it is required. Today out of a membership of about twenty-five, four members live in the area – Michael M Verigin of Cowley who served for many years as the secretary-treasurer of the United Doukhobors of Alberta, Mary Stoochnoff of Lundbreck, William G Maloff and Helen Juroloff of Hillcrest. They are grandchildren or great grandchildren of the original Doukhobors that came to the area.

The United Doukhobors of Alberta Prayer Home in Lundbreck, AB.

Many of the descendants of Harry and Nastia Konkin, who were life-long members and strong supporters of the CCUB, continue to be contributing and active members in the Doukhobor community. Many, living in Kelowna, Grand Forks, the Kootenays and here in Alberta, are members of the USCC, the organization that succeeded the CCUB.

A highway sign had been erected in 1974 just west of Cowley to give recognition to the contribution made by the Doukhobors to the area.

Now, with its Provincial Historic Resource designation, the Prayer Home in Lundbreck will continue to be a place of welcome and may its presence in the community continue to tell the story of the Doukhobors and their contributions in the Lundbreck-Cowley areas…

I extend my gratitude to Michael M Verigin and Peter A Mushta for providing and confirming some of the historic information. I trust that this article will provide a better understanding of this often forgotten and sometimes misunderstood, piece of Doukhobor history.

View Cowley-Lundbreck, Alberta Doukhobor Villages, 1915-1939 in a larger map.

The Kylemore Doukhobor Colony

by Jonathan J. Kalmakoff

The Kylemore Colony was a Doukhobor communal settlement established by the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood in the Kylemore district of Saskatchewan between 1918 and 1938. Numbering 300 people at its peak, the self-sufficient agricultural colony was organized on the principles of common ownership and the Doukhobor faith. While its existence is generally known, remarkably little has been documented about its history. The following article, compiled from a wealth of published and unpublished sources, examines the Kylemore Colony in rich, descriptive detail from its settlement and early development, communal life and organization, to the eventual demise of the Community and break-up of the colony.

Introduction

In the early 1900’s, the main body of Doukhobors in Canada, under the charismatic leadership of Peter Vasil’evich Verigin (1859-1924), known as Gospodnyi (the “Lordly”), formed themselves into the spiritual, social and economic organization known as the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood (CCUB). It was organized on a communal basis, according to the precepts of the Doukhobor faith, under the close supervision and direction of Verigin.

By 1918, the CCUB was at the height of material achievement as an industrial, agricultural, forestry and trading enterprise in Western Canada. It was incorporated under a Dominion charter with a capitalized value of over $1,000,000.00, although its total assets were estimated at several times that figure. It had landholdings in British Columbia, Alberta and Saskatchewan totaling over 50,000 acres on which were built numerous communal villages, sawmills, brickworks, jam factories, canning and fruit-packing plants, trading stores, flour mills, grain elevators, irrigation systems, reservoirs, roads and bridges, along with extensive cultivated crops, orchards and gardens. Underpinning the success of the organization was a membership of 6,000 adult Doukhobors (5,000 in British Columbia and 1,000 in Alberta and Saskatchewan) who provided a large, readily-mobilized pool of free, willing labour, guided by the slogan “Toil and Peaceful Life”.

Group of CCUB Doukhobors at Veregin, SK, c.1918. At the time, the CCUB was at the height of material achievement as an industrial, agricultural, forestry and trading enterprise. Photo courtesy National Doukhobor Heritage Village.

Verigin’s overall strategy at this time was to ensure that the CCUB became self-sufficient in agricultural production, while at the same time developing a variety of means to earn cash to fund its operations. Under this plan, grain grown by Doukhobors on the Prairies would be exchanged for fruit and timber produced by Doukhobor settlements in British Columbia. The surplus would be sold to the outside world, where wartime shortages and high prices provided profitable markets for the wheat, lumber, bricks, fruit and other outputs of the communal enterprise. In order to carry out this strategy, however, it was necessary for the CCUB to acquire additional wheat-growing land on the Prairies.

The Kylemore Purchase

To this end, the CCUB acquired a block of eighteen square miles of land, or the equivalent of half a township, in the Kylemore district of Saskatchewan in 1918. The land was acquired in three transactions. First, the CCUB leased 640 acres of Hudson’s Bay Company land (Section 8 in Township 33, Range 12, West of the Second Meridian) on April 1, 1918. The CCUB then leased an additional 109 acres of land (Legal Subdivision 8 of SE ¼ of Section 9 and Legal Subdivision 5 and 12 of the W ½ of Section 10 in Township 33, Range 12, West of the Second Meridian) from the Department of the Interior. Finally, on May 7, 1918, the CCUB purchased 10,613 acres of land (Sections 1-5, 7, 9-12, N ½ of Section 6 and S ½ of Sections 13-18 in Township 33, and Sections 32-36 in Township 34, Range 12, West of the Second Meridian) from the Chicago-based Fishing Lake Land and Farm Co. Ltd. under an agreement for sale for $265,343.00.

Taken together, these acquisitions provided the CCUB with a total landholding of 11,362 acres in the Kylemore district. Only 607 acres of the land was broken at the time – the rest was covered in dense trees and scrub. For this reason, the CCUB acquired the land for substantially less than developed agricultural land in other areas.

Doukhobor work crew clearing land at Kylemore, SK, 1920. At the time of purchase, the colony was covered in dense trees and scrub. Photo courtesy Koozma J. Tarasoff.

At the same time, the land lay adjacent to the Canadian National Railway, which provided essential transportation access. This was a key component of Verigin’s strategy to ship agricultural and industrial goods between Doukhobor settlements and to market.

Perhaps most importantly, the ‘Kylemore Colony’ formed a large, contiguous block of land that was semi-isolated and largely self-contained, where the Doukhobors could speak their own language, practice their religion and culture, and follow their distinctive form of communal organization, separate and apart from the larger Canadian society.

Early Development and Settlement

From the outset, the colony at Kylemore was established according to the carefully laid out plans of the CCUB leadership. On June 14, 1918, just weeks after the land acquisition, CCUB General Manager Michael W. Cazakoff outlined these plans in an interview with the Manitoba Free Press while in Winnipeg, Manitoba to purchase equipment for the new colony. He declared that the majority of the lands would be dedicated to grain growing, being ideally suited for that purpose, while the lighter, south-easterly lands adjacent to Fishing Lake would be reserved for livestock-raising. There would be a settlement of families on each section. There would also be a store, in which fruit shipped from the Doukhobor settlements in British Columbia would be distributed within the colony and sold publicly. Finally, an elevator would be built through which the Doukhobors in Kylemore would ship wheat to the British Columbia settlements and market their surplus and that of their neighbours.

A group of Doukhobor workers enjoys a break near Kylemore, SK, 1920. Photo No. 208 courtesy ISKRA.

The development of the colony occurred over a period of several years. Beginning in 1918, and for each summer thereafter until 1924, work crews of 65 or more Doukhobor men from British Columbia and elsewhere in Saskatchewan arrived in Kylemore to clear the land and erect buildings. Temporary tent camps were set up on Section 10 for their accommodation. To carry out this work, the main CCUB settlement at Veregin, 70 miles to the east, supplied them with six steam engines and sixty teams of horses.

Land-clearing and breaking began at the northern end of the colony along the Canadian National Railway and slowly advanced to the southern end. This backbreaking work began at sunup and ended after sundown. First, the trees were cut, then the workers used pick axes to grub the stumps. After, workers came with teams of horses and steam engines to pull out the roots and break the land with the plough. The broken land was then sown into crop the following spring. Over 1,600 acres of land were developed in this manner in 1918 alone. Thereafter, Doukhobor work crews cleared and broke an additional five hundred acres of land each year.

The first permanent village in the colony was established in 1918 on Section 9 at the former residence of W.H. McKinnon, one of the prior landowners. This ornate, eight-room, two-story wood frame structure with lumber siding was the only dwelling on the land when the CCUB purchased it. There, between 1918 and 1921, the CCUB also constructed a large central meeting house for colony members and a gornitsa (special guest quarters) where Peter V. Verigin could stay when he visited the area.

The McKinnon home west of Kylemore, SK. Built in c.1910, the large, ornate home was the only structure on the land when the CCUB purchased it in 1918. It formed part of the Chernoff Village, the first village in the colony. It was destroyed by fire in 1924. Remembering Times.

Doukhobor work crews constructed eight additional villages on Sections 6, 7, 9, 10, 31 and 33, approximately two per year, from 1919 to 1924. These were a variation of the village design used by the Doukhobors in British Columbia and consisted of a single 26’ x 26’ two-story dwelling of wood frame construction on a concrete foundation. The exceptions were two villages on Sections 9 and 31 that had twin structures. These multi-family communal doms (dwellings) were constructed using timber shipped from the CCUB sawmills in the Kootenays. Six were clad in brick supplied from the CCUB brickworks at Veregin. The remainder had cedar shake siding shipped from the Kootenay settlements. Each had a hip roof and verandah clad with cedar shakes. All had large cellars for the storage of foodstuffs.

Each village had a large barn for housing draft horses and milking cows along with numerous outbuildings including stables, sheds, granaries, chicken coops, a kuznitsa (blacksmith shop), banya (bath-house) and peche (clay oven). At least two villages had large ledniks (ice cellars) dug for cold storage. Each had a large garden plot for growing vegetables and fruit.

Unnamed twin-dom village constructed by the CCUB adjacent to the Canadian National Railway at Kylemore, SK in c.1919. Photo courtesy John J. Trofimenkoff.

As work crews completed each village, CCUB families began arriving in Kylemore to take up permanent residence in them. The first families to arrive were those of Peter S. Chernoff from Veregin, Saskatchewan and Vasily V. Solovaeff from Prekrasnoye, British Columbia in 1918. They were followed by a number of families from the Kootenays each year between 1919 and 1924. These included the families of Ivan and Michael S. Arishenkoff, Ignat A. Arishenkoff, Nikolai D. Bedinoff, Ivan V. Chernoff, Ivan I. Fofonoff, Ivan P. Hoolaeff, Ivan F. Hoodikoff, Ivan V. and Vasily I. Kazakoff, Vasily V. and Nikolai N. Konkin, Grigory N. Kanigan, Peter and Ivan S. Malikoff, Kuzma V. Kolesnikoff, Alex I. and Vasily V. Makortoff, Dmitry I., Nikolai N. and Ivan A. Malakoff, Andrew P. and Trofim W. Markin, Vasily A. Morozoff, Nikolai N. Ogloff, Peter A. Osachoff, Kuzma S. and Alex I. Pereverseff, Ivan V. and Peter, Semyon and Grigory S. Popoff, Ivan A. Postnikoff, Fyodor K. and Ivan I. Samsonoff, Ivan F. Sysoev, Ivan and Nikolai P. Sheloff, Pavel V. Planidin and Evdokim A. Sherbinin. According to oral tradition, each family was hand-picked by Peter V. Verigin to help develop the colony.

As the colony took shape, the CCUB undertook the task of constructing a large grain elevator on Section 9 along the Canadian National Railway. Beginning in 1918, work crews constructed a 120,000 bushel capacity elevator of wood crib construction on a concrete foundation. It was approximately 45’ x 60’ wide and 75’ high with a pyramidal roof and a centrally located pyramidal-roofed cupola. At the time it was completed in 1920, it was the largest elevator in Saskatchewan. Thereafter, the Kylemore Colony began receiving, storing and shipping grain in bulk quantities to the Doukhobor settlements in British Columbia and to markets elsewhere.

Doukhobor work crew constructing grain elevator at Kylemore, 1919. Photo courtesy Peter and Agnes Malekoff.

The CCUB also began construction of a large trading store and warehouse on Section 9 along the rail line in 1918. The three-story structure was built of wood frame construction with a full concrete basement. It had cedar shake siding. It was 60’ x 36’ with a gambrel roof and two 20’ lean-tos. It was completed in 1922. The storefront was located at the north end of the main floor, where fruit, produce and other merchandise from the Doukhobor settlements in British Columbia were distributed to the colony families as required and the surplus sold to the public, while the south end of the main floor and the basement were utilized as a warehouse. It is known that Pavel V. Planidin managed the store from 1922 to 1925 and Nikolai N. Ogloff from 1928 to 1935.

By 1924, the Kylemore Colony was thriving and prosperous, with approximately 250 Doukhobor men, women and children. It had a herd of 500 cattle, 1000 sheep and 30 horses. Over 4,000 acres of land was now under cultivation, producing substantial quantities of grain. A sizeable acreage was also devoted to pasture. The community elevator and store were now in full operation. Peter V. Verigin’s plans for the colony had begun to bear fruit.

CCUB communal structures adjacent to the Canadian National Railway at Kylemore, SK, c.1924. (l-r) CCUB grain elevator, CCUB trading store, and unnamed twin-dom village. Photo courtesy Koozma J. Tarasoff.

The Kelvington Annex

Even as the development of the Kylemore Colony was underway, Peter V. Verigin had planned its expansion in the outlying area. In August of 1921, the CCUB purchased an additional 8,000 acres of land (Sections 3, 7, 9, 15, 17-19, 21, 27, 31 and 33, W ½ and SE ¼ of Section 5, E ½ of Section 25, all in Township 27, Range 12, West of the Second Meridian) in the Kelvington district, twenty miles to the north. It was acquired from the Winnipeg-based Canada West Security Corporation under an agreement for sale.

The ‘Kelvington Annex’ was unbroken at the time of purchase and was covered in trees and scrub, making it cheaper and more affordable than developed land in other districts. Unlike the Kylemore Colony, it did not form a contiguous block, but was segregated into separate section parcels interspersed among non-Doukhobor landholdings. However, it lay adjacent to the Canadian National Railway’s proposed Thunderhill Branch Line extension from Kelvington to Prince Albert, which, once built, would enhance its property value and provide strategic rail access.

Doukhobor work crew clearing land by hand near Kylemore, SK, c. 1924. Photo courtesy William W. Kanigan.

The Kelvington Annex was administered as an offshoot of the Kylemore Colony. It was primarily used for summer pasturage for the colony’s horse herd, although some land-clearing and grain-growing did occur. No villages were constructed there; however, single-family dwellings were built on Sections 18 and 27 to house four families permanently stationed there. Other families were rotated from Kylemore to Kelvington on a temporary basis over summer to tend the communal horse herd, during which time they lived in tents.

Community Life and Organization under Peter V. Verigin: 1918-1924

During the era of Peter V. Verigin, the Kylemore Colony was comprised of nine (unnamed) villages containing family groupings of four to six extended families per village. All the villages in the colony were organized as one commune.

Doukhobor family at Kylemore, SK, 1920. (l-r) Mabel, Tanya, Peter, John, Peter A., Helen G., and Mike Chernoff in their chore cloths. Seems Like Only Yesterday.

The CCUB central office coordinated the agricultural and commercial operations of the colony, carried out all transactions on its behalf, managed its finances through a common treasury and provided for the daily needs of its members. This was managed out of the CCUB headquarters in Veregin, Saskatchewan. A manager elected by the members administered the day-to-day affairs of the colony and acted as an intermediary authority between the central office and colony members. It is known that in 1925, the Manager of the Kylemore Colony was Dmitry I. Malakoff and from 1926 to 1928, Nikolai I. Cazakoff. Major decisions affecting the colony were introduced at a sobraniye (general meeting) of all members where everyone could have a voice.

The CCUB owned all of the colony’s land, buildings, machinery, tools and livestock. These were distributed among the villages of the colony, so that each village possessed its own teams of horses, wagons, implements and other resources necessary to farm the acreage allocated to it. All the grain was delivered to the CCUB elevator and traded under its name, as was all stock and merchandise shipped to the CCUB store. Indeed, all proceeds from the output of the colony went to the central office.

CCUB General Manager Michael W. Cazakoff (right) inspects communal draft horses with Vasily V. Soloveoff (left) near Kylemore, SK, c.1924. Photo No. 273 courtesy ISKRA.

Individual members were expected to contribute their labour to the operation of the colony and pay an annual levy to the central office, which was mainly paid in-kind through labour rather than cash. They received no income for communal work, and when they found it necessary to work outside the colony, their earnings were deposited directly with the central office or collected by the Manager of the colony. Hence, few members of the colony actually handled money. Within this moneyless system, the colony provided for all the essential needs of its members, such as food, shelter, clothing and other supplies.

Daily life in the Kylemore Colony revolved around the cycles of the farming year. In spring, the women and men worked together in the fields sowing crops. Afterwards, in summer, they laboured to clear and break additional land. The women also dug seneca root, the sale of which was an important source of revenue for the colony. Later in summer, haying and stooking was performed by both men and women. At harvest time, the men threshed while the women prepared meals and did chores. In late fall, the men got up before sunrise, took packed lunches and traveled south toward Fishing Lake to cut wood. They would cut enough to last the colony for the whole winter and the surplus was sold locally. The days that followed were spent sawing and splitting the wood into “stove-sized” pieces. During winter, the men worked in the villages or sought outside employment. The women, elderly and children maintained the household and performed yard chores.

Doukhobors at Kanigan Village near Kylemore, SK winnow grain to remove chaff. Photo courtesy William W. Kanigan.

The colony was almost entirely self-sufficient in food production. Colony members grew potatoes, cabbages, tomatoes and other vegetables in their large gardens. This was supplemented by fruit, jams and preserves supplied from the Doukhobor settlements in British Columbia. Wild berries, nuts and mushrooms were also picked locally. Milk, cream, cheese and butter were obtained from the community cattle herd. As they kept chickens they also had a fresh supply of eggs. Meat was unnecessary as colony members were strict vegetarians. Flour was produced from the wheat they grew, which was hauled by horse and wagon 18 miles south to Foam Lake to be ground and milled. Only sugar, salt, raisins, rice and a few other staples were purchased outside the colony by the men.

The colonists also manufactured most of their own cloths, tools and furniture. The women sheared wool from the communal sheep herd which they then washed, carded, spun and wove to make cloth and yarn. They were expert in sewing, knitting, crocheting, weaving, quilt and mattress making and other handicrafts. The men produced furniture, tools and equipment and performed shoe repair, harness-making, blacksmithing, horse-shoeing and other skilled tasks.

Peter Chernoff and John Soloveoff mounted on horseback on the prairie near Kylemore, SK, c.1920. Photo No. 207 courtesy ISKRA.

While there were few opportunities for leisure, colony members still found time to enjoy the natural beauty and recreation opportunities at Fishing Lake during the hot summer months. There, at a scenic lug (meadow) on the north shore of the lake, Doukhobors throughout the colony gathered to celebrate Petrov Den’ (Peters Day), hold outdoor meetings and enjoy picnics, swimming and rafting.

A mainstay of spiritual life in the colony was the moleniye (prayer meeting) held each Sunday. According to oral tradition, each village initially conducted its own moleniye; however, over time, a number of villages joined together for this occasion. This was a time when the members of the colony abandoned their work and gathered for hours to pray, discuss spiritual matters and sing psalms. There were reputedly many exceptional singers in the colony, and the psalm singing inspired the people and reinforced their religious faith and values for the ensuing week.

A gathering of Doukhobor children at Kanigan Village near Kylemore, SK, c. 1924. Photo courtesy William W. Kanigan.

A special highlight was when Peter V. Verigin visited the Kylemore Colony to meet with the members, hear their concerns and inspect their progress. This was a joyous occasion accompanied by special celebrations, meetings and meals. It is known that Verigin made at least two such trips to Kylemore in the summer of 1921 and the fall of 1924, and probably several more.

On the whole, life in the colony at this time was characterized, not only by hard work and sacrifice, but by simple, peaceful living in an atmosphere of happiness, comfort and harmony. This way of life is poignantly described in the historical novel Tanya, by Doukhobor writer Eli A. Popoff, which is based on the remarkable true story of Tanya Arishenkoff, the central character, who lived in the colony from 1919 until its demise.

Doukhobor shepherds tend communal sheep flock at Kylemore, SK, c.1924. Photo courtesy National Doukhobor Heritage Village.

Death of Peter V. Verigin and Aftermath

Disaster struck the Kylemore Colony in May of 1924 when one of the villages on Section 9 was destroyed in an accidental fire. This included the village dom, central meeting house, the gornitsa where Peter V. Verigin stayed and other outbuildings. During this same period, the dom at another village on Section 9 also burned to the ground.

However, these events paled in comparison to the sudden death of Verigin in October of 1924 in a mysterious train explosion at Farron, British Columbia. His passing was a devastating blow to the membership of the CCUB, who revered him as their guide, counselor and protector. The entire Doukhobor Community was thrown into shock and mourning, and the Kylemore Colony was no exception.

Leaderless and directionless, the Doukhobors at Kylemore carried on essential tasks, such as grain growing and store and elevator operations, but postponed decisions on most important issues until a replacement leader could be appointed who would help them decide. For example, the construction of village buildings to replace those which had burnt on Section 9 was suspended. The CCUB organization went into a period of slow stagnation and decline.

Larion Malakoff mounted on horseback in front of Malakoff Village dom near Kylemore, SK, c.1924. Photo courtesy Fred J. Chernoff.

With financial difficulties mounting, the Directors of the CCUB decided to consolidate their debts with one creditor. The Community negotiated a loan for $350,000.00 with the National Trust Company, representing the Canadian Bank of Commerce, in December of 1925. To secure this loan, the National Trust Company obtained a blanket mortgage on all of the land and buildings on which no other creditors held liens. This meant that everything owned by the CCUB would now be encumbered with debt, including the lands of the Kylemore Colony.

Arrival of Peter P. Verigin and Reorganization

It was several years before Verigin’s son, Peter Petrovich Verigin, known as Chistiakov (the “Cleanser” or “Purger”), was able to come to Canada and assume the leadership of the CCUB. His arrival in September of 1927 was greeted by his followers with tremendous enthusiasm, who hoped for a rejuvenation of the ailing CCUB communal structure.

On his first of many visits to the Kylemore colony, Peter P. Verigin impressed his followers as a forceful, eloquent orator and a persuasive, dynamic and brilliant organizer. He declared his immediate goals to be to free the CCUB from it burden of debt and to unite the various factions of Doukhobors in Canada. Seeing and hearing him speak, the Kylemore Doukhobors firmly believed that his objectives would be achieved.

The family of Peter P. Verigin seen here at the Chernoff Village near Kylemore, SK in 1928 (l-r) John J. Verigin (his grandson), Anna F. Verigin (his wife) and Evdokia G. Verigin (his mother). Photo No. 303 courtesy ISKRA.

Almost immediately, Peter P. Verigin reorganized the CCUB on a new basis to encourage greater self-reliance, industry and diligence among its members and to foster a renewed interest in the soil and in the welfare of the commune. To this end, he decentralized the CCUB, made life less rigidly communal, and reduced the size of each commune to a new unit known as the ‘Family’, which in Saskatchewan was comprised of 25 persons.

The Kylemore Colony land, buildings, machinery, tools and livestock were redistributed to each Family to farm communally. Each Family was granted broad autonomy over its agricultural operations and business transactions. An annual assessment was still paid to the CCUB central office. However, any excess revenue from the land or from outside earnings, over and above the annual assessment, was retained by the Family. A Starshina (Elder), elected by its members, managed the day-to-day affairs of each Family. It is known that in 1928, these were: Ivan N. Konkin, Nikolai P. Popoff, Ivan I. Samsonoff, Vasily V. Solovaeff, Ivan V. Chernenkoff, Alexei I. Pereverseff, Ivan V. Popoff, Vasily A. Morozoff, Semyon S. Popoff, Ivan A. Posnikoff, Peter S. Chernoff, Grigory N. Kanigan and Ivan P. Sheloff.

John V. Soloveoff stands beside a white stallion that had belonged to Doukhobor leader Peter V. Verigin at the newly-formed Arishenkoff Village near Kylemore, SK, c. 1928. Photo No. 229 courtesy ISKRA.

The system of buying and selling was introduced into all aspects of relations between the CCUB central office and the Families or branch communes, as well as between individual members. Individual Doukhobors were now permitted to handle money. Thus, money transactions replaced the unwieldy barter system of earlier years.

In total, 13 Families of 25 persons (comprising one to two extended families) were set up in the Kylemore Colony in 1928. Each Family was allocated a section of land in the colony on which to live and farm. Where a village already existed on a section, it was given to the Family assigned to that section; where there was none, a new village was built for the Family placed on that section.

Accordingly, six existing villages on Sections 7, 9, 4 and 10 (thereafter known as Popoff Village, Malakoff Village, Chernoff Village, Sheloff Village, Kazakoff Village and Kanigan Village) were reassigned to Families. Three existing (unnamed) villages on Sections 6, 9 and 31 were either moved to new locations or dismantled and the materials used to build new villages elsewhere. Seven new villages (thereafter known as Chernenkoff Village, Pereverseff Village, Hoodekoff Village, Konkin Village, Makortoff Village, Samsonoff Village and Arishenkoff Village) were built for Families on Sections 2, 3, 5, 32-35. These new villages differed from the earlier villages in that they were comprised of small, single-family residences built of wood frame construction with cedar shake siding.

Vasily V. Soloveoff stands beside a Belgian draft horse at the newly-formed Arishenkoff Village near Kylemore, SK, c. 1928.  Note the communal barn under construction in foreground. Photo No. 228 courtesy ISKRA.

This reorganization resulted in changes to nearly every household in the Kylemore Colony. Consequently, throughout the summer of 1928, there was much moving to and fro, and wagons piled high with goods and chattels were continually driving in one direction or another as families relocated to their new villages. It was at this time also that the CCUB families stationed at the Kelvington Annex relocated to the Kylemore Colony, where they were incorporated into Family branch communes.

In addition to the Families, which maintained a direct connection with the CCUB central office, a provincial branch of the CCUB was set up in Saskatchewan to operate business enterprises in the various areas, including the grain elevator and trading store at Kylemore. These were now run on a wholly cash basis. The CCUB trading store now purchased the fruit it received from British Columbia and sold it to colony members, although it no longer enjoyed a trade monopoly among them. The CCUB elevator maintained a buying monopoly over all the surplus grain grown in the colony, however, it was now purchased from each Family and sold to British Columbia.

Early threshing outfit owned by the CCUB at Kylemore, SK, c. 1928. Photo courtesy William W. Kanigan.

Community Life Under Peter P. Verigin: 1927-1931

The reorganization of the Kylemore Colony was accompanied by three main developments during the early years of Peter P. Verigin’s leadership. First, there was an expansion and consolidation of the capital assets of the colony to increase earning potential and reduce the CCUB’s massive debt. Second, colonists joined a new umbrella organization, the Society of Named Doukhobors, aimed at the unification of the main Doukhobor factions in Canada. Third, new emphasis was placed on education as the Doukhobor youth of the colony were enrolled in local schools. These developments are discussed below in greater detail.

Capital Expansion and Consolidation

The years 1928 to 1931 saw a noteworthy expansion, improvement and consolidation of CCUB capital assets in the Kylemore Colony. Buildings were erected for new villages to the value of $13,000.00. As well, leased lands (640 acres from the Hudson’s Bay Company and 109 acres from the Department of Indian Affairs) were purchased outright for $16,264.60. Also, the balance owing on the 10,613 acres purchased from the Fishing Lake Land and Farm Co. Ltd. was paid in full. Finally, land-clearing activity was redoubled in order to increase agricultural production and earnings.

New Chernoff Village dom completed in 1928 to replace the original destroyed by fire in 1924. Note the collection of machinery of that era. Seems Like Only Yesterday.

At the same time, the CCUB raised money by allowing some of its Prairie members to opt out of the communal system and buy or lease its land. To this end, 3,000 acres of hitherto-undeveloped land in the Kelvington Annex was leased or sold under agreements for sale to CCUB members. These included the families of Peter J. Goolaeff, Peter A. Morozoff, John J. and Peter J. Kanigan, Simeon A. Horkoff, Harry N. and Trofim N. Kanigan, Fred W. Antifaeff, Mike W. and Wasyl W. Bloodoff, George F. and John F. Kazakoff, Nick W. Pepin, Wasyl L. Shukin and Wasyl A. Juravloff.

Statistical data from 1931 illustrates the extent of CCUB property in the Kylemore Colony at this time. The landholdings totalled 11,774.60 acres, valued at $316,724.85. Another 4,945.23 acres of land was held in the Kelvington Annex, assessed at $87,174.62. The investment in buildings on the farm land, including houses, barns and other structures, was valued at $47,900.00. The store and warehouse along with the grain elevator were appraised at an additional $29,000.00. The investment in livestock – which included 240 working horses and 130 milking cows – was valued at $42,500.00. Finally, the investment in farm machinery was assessed at $18,500.00. Thus, the total valuation of the Kylemore Colony’s capital assets in 1931 was $541,799.47 – over half a million dollars – two years into the Great Depression.

Communal barn and horse stable at the Arishenkoff Village, one of the new villages formed in 1928 near Kylemore, SK following the reorganization of the CCUB by Peter P. Verigin. Photo No. 274 courtesy ISKRA.

Unity

Upon his arrival in Canada, all of the main Doukhobor factions – the CCUB, the Independents and the Sons of Freedom – acknowledged Peter P. Verigin as their spiritual leader. He made it his avowed purpose to heal the divisions between the groups and reestablish unity among all Doukhobors living in Canada.

To this end, in June of 1928, Verigin formed a new, all-embracing organization, the Society of Named Doukhobors of Canada, for the purpose of uniting his followers. Through a series of conferences attended by delegates from the CCUB and Independent Doukhobor settlements, the Society, under Verigin’s leadership and direction, promoted a policy of non-violence, the teachings of Christ, marriage based on love, acceptance of public education, the accurate registration of births, deaths and marriages, the peaceful resolution of disputes among members by the Society’s executive, the automatic expulsion of members who committed crimes, and more.

Doukhobor maidens at Kylemore, SK, 1927 (l-r) Milly W. Konkin, Polly W. Konkin and Mary Makortoff. Photo courtesy William W. Kanigan.

For their part, the Kylemore colonists readily participated in the new organization, joining en masse, paying regular membership dues, sending delegates (Alexei I. Hoodekoff in 1934 and Havrila N. Kanigan in 1937) to its conferences and implementing its resolutions. By December of 1930, there were 150 male and 148 female members of the Society of Named Doukhobors of Canada from Kylemore.

Education

From the outset of his leadership, Peter P. Verigin emphasized the importance of public education among his followers. The education of their children in English schools, and the establishment of their own Russian schools and libraries, he declared, would begin a new era for Doukhobors in Canada. His views towards education were actively promoted through the Society of Named Doukhobors of Canada.

Group of Doukhobor schoolchildren in front of North Kylemore School, 1941. Photo courtesy William W. Kanigan.

As members of the Society, the Kylemore colonists were now committed to accept education, and from 1928 onward, began enrolling their children in Kylemore School in the hamlet of Kylemore. In 1929, the school was destroyed in a suspicious fire when a group of Sons of Freedom visited the area and classes were held in the CCUB trading store until a new school was built the same year. By 1936, Doukhobor student enrollment increased to such an extent that a second school was opened at the south end of the colony. The older school became known as the ‘North Kylemore School’ and the newer one the ‘South Kylemore School’. Colony youth also attended Russian language classes in the evenings.

South Kylemore School, c. 1936. Back row (l-r): Fred Hoolaeff, Nick Ogloff, George Arishenkoff, John Hoolaeff, Helen Morozoff, Helen Makortoff, Lucy Makortoff. Middle row: Mike Arishenkoff, Peter Arishenkoff, Bill Samsonoff, Peter Konkin, Peter Pereverzoff, Mary Hoodekoff, Donalda Mawhinney (teacher), John Cazakoff. Front row: Alex Pereverzoff Bill Morozoff, Larry Hoodekoff, Alex Hoolaeff, Mac Pereverzoff, Doris Hoodekoff, Bill Konkin, Annette Hoodekoff, Mary Konkin, Mary Pereverzoff, Nellie Makortoff. Front: Beverly Broley (teacher’s niece). Remembering Times.

Demise of the CCUB

The twelve years of Peter P. Verigin’s leadership from 1927 to 1939 saw a number of remarkable accomplishments. However, despite his concerted efforts, the Doukhobor leader was unable to eliminate the massive CCUB debt (although he did reduce this debt by over half), nor bring about a lasting unity with other Doukhobor groups (the Society of Named Doukhobors collapsed in 1937). At the same time, his irregular character and actions eroded the enthusiasm and confidence of the CCUB membership, whose zeal for utopian communal living was already in decline.

When the Great Depression struck in the Thirties, the financial situation of the CCUB deteriorated rapidly because all the communal property was mortgaged and no further loans could be negotiated due to lack of collateral. With no credit, and with membership and cash income falling rapidly, Verigin attempted to sell off CCUB assets to raise the necessary capital to enable the corporation to continue to operate, and at the same time, to stave off the ever-increasing demands of its creditors.

Front page of the Winnipeg Free Press, October 18, 1934 announcing the sale of CCUB holdings in Saskatchewan.

To this end, in October of 1934, Peter P. Verigin publicly announced that the CCUB would be selling its entire holdings – land, stock, equipment and elevators – in the districts of Kylemore, Kelvington and Veregin, Saskatchewan. This represented the wholesale liquidation of all CCUB capital assets in the province. A similar announcement was made in April of 1935. Later that month, some Saskatchewan members of the CCUB were served with notices to vacate their villages and lands. These events were met with shock and disbelief by the Saskatchewan members, who had not been consulted.

Reputedly, several offers to purchase the Kylemore lands were made to the CCUB central office in Brilliant, British Columbia; however, no sale ever materialized. Nevertheless, in April of 1936, the Saskatchewan branch of the CCUB sold the elevator at Kylemore to James Richardson. The CCUB trading store in Kylemore was closed later that year. In light of these events, all the Kylemore colonists could do was wait in anticipation of a better tomorrow. But for the CCUB, prosperity never returned.

CCUB elevator in Kylemore. When completed in 1920, it was the largest in Saskatchewan. It was sold in 1936 to J. Richardson and resold  to the Pioneer Grain Company, which operated it until 1990. Wadena News.

By 1937, a combination of complex factors, including the Great Depression, financial mismanagement, diminishing revenues, a declining membership base, mounting debts, depredations against communal property, and government assimilation efforts, all unhelped by Verigin’s increasingly erratic leadership style, led to the eventual (and arguably, inevitable) bankruptcy of the CCUB. The following year, in 1938, the National Trust Company foreclosed on its mortgage over the CCUB lands and chattels in Kylemore, Kelvington and elsewhere. Thereafter, the CCUB ceased to exist as a corporate entity.

Break-Up of the Colony

Following the bankruptcy and foreclosure of the CCUB, the Doukhobors living in Kylemore were faced with a difficult dilemma: either join the majority of their brethren in British Columbia or else remain in Saskatchewan as independent farmers. Many of them were already middle-aged, and to begin a new life with nothing, dependent only on themselves, with no Community to fall back on, must have been daunting prospect.

William W. Kanigan and his mother doing chores on their farm near Kylemore, SK, c.1940.  Photo courtesy William W. Kanigan.

About a third of the Kylemore Doukhobors immediately moved to British Columbia in 1938 to be part of the larger group living there. Numerous others followed the move to British Columbia during the War Years (1939-1945) to avoid the military call-up. Still others decided to abandon their old way of life altogether, take their few possessions and depart into the world unknown.

Approximately a third of the Kylemore Doukhobors chose to repurchase their lands from the National Trust Company in 1938 under agreements for sale. Payment was made on a one-third crop share basis, as the Doukhobors had little or no cash. They took possession of their land, moved in village structures (dwellings, barns, stables, etc.) or utilized existing ones on the land, and purchased on credit the necessary horses, implements and equipment to set up their own farming practices. Fortunately, there were prosperous years in the Forties, and within ten years of independent farming, all the Doukhobors obtained clear title to their land and many acquired additional land, modern vehicles and machinery for their farms.

Social gathering of Kylemore Doukhobors, c. 1947. Photo courtesy Peter and Agnes Malekoff.

While most Doukhobors stayed on as farmers, several established stores and business in Kylemore. In the Thirties, William M. Fudikuf owned a general store in Kylemore, selling everything from groceries and furniture, to cream separators and machinery. In the late Forties, Peter G. Kanigan ran a blacksmith shop, general store and gas pumps. Finally, in the Fifties, Louis L. Osachoff operated a general store in the hamlet.

Those families who remained in Kylemore continued to uphold their Doukhobor faith and culture. In the Forties, they formed the Kylemore Doukhobor Society, which became their main religious and social organization. Moleniye (prayer meetings) and children’s Sunday school classes were held weekly at the Sunderland School. Petrov Den’ (Peters Day) was commemorated annually with picnics at Fishing Lake. A local choir was organized, and visiting choirs from British Columbia and elsewhere in Saskatchewan were always welcomed. In 1954, the Society purchased the former South Kylemore School and moved it into Kylemore for use as a ‘prayer home’ or meeting house. The Society remained active until the Nineties, when, due to an aging and dwindling congregation, it was dissolved. About six Doukhobor families remain in the Kylemore district today.

Kylemore Doukhobors holding moleniye prayer service, 1959.  Photo courtesy William W. Kanigan.

Conclusion

Today, there are few physical reminders of the CCUB colony at Kylemore. An abandoned two-story village dom stands on the north side of the No. 5 Highway, a silent sentinel of the communal past, while at least two smaller village dwellings can be found nearby. The concrete foundations of other village doms, barns and reservoirs dot the surrounding countryside. Many of the original Doukhobor colonists lay at rest in God’s Blessing Cemetery, still in active use. Recently, a stream running through the former colony was christened Blahoslovenie (Blessing) Creek in their memory.

A more enduring legacy of the Kylemore Colony is its living one. For today, the descendants of the original 300 colonists, who surely number in the hundreds if not thousands, can be found throughout Saskatchewan, British Columbia and the rest of Canada. They continue to preserve the memory of these pioneering Spirit Wrestlers.

The Chernoff Village dom (originally two stories) still stands west of Kylemore, SK. Photo by Jonathan J. Kalmakoff.

A dwelling from the Arishenkoff Village, shrouded in vines south of Kylemore, SK. Photo by Jonathan J. Kalmakoff.

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  • Veregin, Nora. Personal interview with Jonathan J. Kalmakoff, August 1, 2008.
  • Wadena Herald, “Doukhobors to Stay: Veregin Closes Deal for 10,000 Acres of Prairie Land” (June 27, 1918).
  • Wadena History Book Committee, Remembering Times: Wadena and Area Dating Back to 1882 (2 vols.) (Wadena: 1992).
  • Winnipeg Free Press, “Doukhobor Group Will Resist Any Attempt to Evict Them from Farms” (April 27, 1935).
  • Winnipeg Free Press, “Doukhobors Are Leaving Sask.” (October 18, 1934).
  • Winnipeg Free Press, “Doukhobors Will Sell Property in Saskatchewan” (April 8, 1935).
  • Woodcock, George & Ivan Avakumovic, The Doukhobors (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart Limited, 1977).

View Kylemore, Saskatchewan Doukhobor Villages, 1918-1938 in a larger map

An earlier version of this article was published in a compilation by Jonathan J. Kalmakoff and Anne Sanderson entitled Their Story in the Wadena News from July 9 to August 20, 2008. That compilation received a first place award for Best Saskatchewan Cultural Story of the Year at the Saskatchewan Weekly Newspaper Association’s 2009 Better Newspaper Competition Premier Awards.

This article was subsequently reproduced by permission in:

The Hyas Doukhobor Settlement

by Jonathan J. Kalmakoff

Among the first settlers in the Hyas district of Saskatchewan were a group of Independent Doukhobors. Attracted by homestead lands and the promise of a railroad, the Russian pacifists arrived in 1902 to establish the village of Vozvyshenie. For five years, they lived, prayed and worked there under the motto of “Toil and Peaceful Life”, transforming the prairie wilderness into productive farmland. By 1907, however, the village experiment was abandoned, owing to the lack of railroad facilities and difficulty of getting goods to market. The story of Vozvyshenie illustrates the role of the traditional Russian village model, cooperative organization, homestead policy and the location and timing of railroad construction in the early settlement of Independent Doukhobors on the Prairies. The following article by Jonathan J. Kalmakoff, a descendant of the Vozvyshenie Doukhobors, examines their little known contribution to the history and development of the Hyas district.

Origin and History

The Doukhobors were a religious group founded in 18th century Russia. They rejected the rites and dogma of the Orthodox Church and denied the authority of the Tsarist State, refusing to swear allegiance to anyone but God. Their practical, commonsense teachings were based on the belief that the spirit of God resides in the soul of every person; therefore, to kill another person was to kill God. The Doukhobors were frequently persecuted for their faith by Imperial Russian authorities and forced to live in the frontier regions of the Empire.

In 1895, the Doukhobors refused to perform military service and burned their firearms in a symbolic demonstration against violence. Their pacifist stand was met with renewed persecution by authorities and many were tortured, imprisoned or exiled. Their plight attracted international attention, and with the assistance of Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy and the Society of Friends (Quakers), the Doukhobors sought refuge by immigrating to Canada.

Doukhobor women winnowing grain.  Library and Archives Canada C-008891.

In 1899, over 7,500 Doukhobors arrived in Canada, settling on three large blocks of land reserved for them by the Dominion Government in the Northwest Territories, in what are today the districts of Pelly, Arran, Kamsack, Veregin, Canora, Buchanan, Langham and Blaine Lake, Saskatchewan. Following the motto of “Toil and Peaceful Life”, they cleared, broke and farmed the land and established over sixty villages, as well as flour mills, elevators, saw mills, brick factories, trading stores, roads, bridges and ferries in these areas.

During the first years of settlement, the Doukhobors adopted a communal way of life. Organized as the “Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood”, they held all land, livestock, machinery and other property in common. All work in the fields was performed jointly, all produce went into a communal granary and all proceeds, including outside earnings, pooled into a common treasury. Virtually all aspects of Community life – spiritual, social and economic – were organized according to the utopian communal vision of their leader, Peter V. Verigin.

As time passed, however, many of the younger Doukhobor men withdrew from the Community and entered for individual homesteads. These men had travelled around the country working for Canadian farmers and had imbibed some independent ideas. They came to resent the narrowness and rigidity of Community life and grew tired of throwing their wage labour into a pool and getting very little out of it. They retained the essentials of their religion, particularly pacifism, but rejected the central leadership and communal lifestyle as being not essential to true Doukhoborism. Most of these “Independents” settled on their individual homesteads after leaving the communalism of the Community villages. A few, however, sought to retain the traditional village form of settlement. Such was the case of the Independent Doukhobors who settled in the Hyas district.

Arrival and Settlement

In the spring of 1902, a group of twenty-nine Doukhobors in the Buchanan district broke away from the communal lifestyle to farm independently. As all of the desirable homesteads had been taken up in that district, they were obliged to search elsewhere for land. After careful investigation of the countryside, traversing it from west to east and from south to north, they chose lands situated twenty-five miles to the northeast – a day’s journey by horse and wagon – in the Hyas district.

The Hyas district was a wilderness of rolling prairie covered with scattered poplar and scrub, interspersed with spruce, when the Doukhobors arrived. Much of the land was still unsettled. It was unsurveyed and there were no roads save for a deeply rutted pack trail – a branch of the Fort Pelly Trail – which ran through it. Nonetheless, the land met the settlers’ essential requirements: excellent soil, a good water supply, and accessible timber to build. As well, many of the settlers were already familiar with the district, having founded a short-lived village in the vicinity between 1899 and 1901.

A significant factor in their decision to locate was the Canadian Northern Railway Company’s 1902 proposal to extend a branch line from Swan River, Manitoba west through the district. When the Doukhobors inquired with the Dominion Lands Branch office about homesteads in the vicinity, they had been promised the branch line within a year or two. It was well understood at the time that rail access to distant markets would be essential if they were to prosper on their homesteads and farms in the hinterland.

Map of Vovyshenie village site in relation to present-day village of Hyas, Saskatchewan.

To this end, the Russian speaking settlers filed homestead entries on Section 6 of Township 34 and Sections 30 and 34 of Township 33, all in Range 2, West of the Second Meridian along the proposed railway route. Under the Dominion Lands Act, they could obtain patent for the land provided they cultivated at least thirty acres on each quarter-section, became naturalized subjects and swore an oath of allegiance to the Crown.

Ordinarily, homesteaders were required to build a house on their quarter-section and reside there for a period of time, usually six months a year for three years. However, the Doukhobors were granted the modifications of the “Hamlet Clause” under the Dominion Lands Act which allowed them to fulfill the residence requirements in their traditional village form of settlement and fulfill their homestead obligations without actually living on their individual quarter-sections.

The Doukhobors thus selected a suitable place on the southwest quarter of Section 6 to establish a village. It was located so that it would be more or less central to their homestead entries to minimize the travel distance between their homes and their fields. It was adjacent to a small unnamed stream which offered a reliable source of water. Stands of spruce trees were situated nearby for use for building and heating. As it was built on a rise of land, relative to the swampy lowlands to the south, it was named Vozvyshenie, from the Russian for “elevation” or “rising ground”. It was the first organized settlement in the district, predating the village of Hyas by a decade.

The village initially consisted of five 18’ x 30’ houses constructed of hand-sawn logs with low-pitched gable roofs thatched with grass. They were built in two rows facing each other across a wide central street, laid out in the Strassendorf (street village) pattern used in Russia. Behind each house was a large garden plot for use by each family. Numerous outbuildings were also built, including barns, stables, granaries, a bathhouse (banya), blacksmith’s shop (kuznitsa) and outdoor clay oven (pech’). A row of spruce trees was planted along the central street of the village.

The original families comprising the village of Vozvyshenie were those of Wasyl Swetlishnoff, John Salikin, Alexei Barisoff, Peter Negraeff, John Rilkoff, Joseph Derhousoff, Peter Sookorukoff and Semyon Kalmakoff. In the ensuing years, they were joined by the families of Alexei Katasonoff, Efim Bedinoff, Alexei Derhousoff and Zakhar Derhousoff from the Arran and Runnymede districts. Most of the village families were related to one another either directly or through marriage.

Home of Syoma and Masha Kalmakoff, Vozvysheniye village, c. 1905.  This rare period photograph is the only one of the village known to exist today.

Village Life

The Doukhobors of Vozvyshenie lived together on a free and voluntary basis, without formal leadership or institutions. Village meetings (sobranie) were held from time to time at which women and men participated equally in the decision making process, which was similar to the traditional mir in Russia. The elders (starichki) provided advice and direction for the affairs of the village. Disagreements were rare, and the Doukhobor values of love, non-violence, hospitality, simple living and justice prevailed in day to day relations.

Agriculturally and economically, the villagers organized themselves along broad cooperative lines, as they had in Russia. Homesteads, village lots, buildings, livestock and machinery were considered the private property of each household. Each family worked its homestead independent of the others. At the same time, they cooperated in common undertakings, sharing labour, draft animals and implements whenever they could be spared from their own work. To some extent, such mutual assistance was a practical necessity in the early years of Prairie settlement, when survival was paramount.

The Doukhobors were almost entirely self-sufficient in food production. They grew potatoes, cabbages, tomatoes and other vegetables in their gardens; picked wild berries, nuts and mushrooms in the forest; consumed meat and dairy products from their cattle; slaughtered their cows, pigs and chickens for meat; caught fish in the nearby rivers and streams; and grew wheat which was milled to produce flour for baking.

The villagers also manufactured most of their own cloths, tools and furniture. The women wove cloth and made garments, rugs, shawls, and hangings from homespun fabrics. The men produced furniture, boots and shoes, ladles, harnesses, horseshoes, spades, spinning wheels and various tools. Store-bought items consisted of those few items which could not be made, grown or produced in the village, such as salt, coal oil, glass, sugar, tea and soap.

As with all new settlers, the Doukhobors struggled to increase their cash income. In summer, the able-bodied men left the village to work as railway labourers and farmhands at subsistence wages while the women, children and old men managed the lands and households. It was this collective sharing of responsibilities which made their continued existence possible.

Doukhobors harvesting, c. 1907.  Library and Archives Canada C-009787.

Clearing and improving the homesteads was a slow, difficult process that took the majority of the villagers’ time and labour. Before crops could be sown, the settlers had to remove trees and scrub, drain sloughs and clear the fields of rocks. Using axes, hoes and sickles along with teams of horses hitched to walking plows, the Doukhobors could only clear ten to fifteen acres at the most in a year. All villagers old enough to work contributed towards this effort.

As parcels of land were cleared, the Doukhobors cultivated and sowed it to produce rye, barley and oat crops. They put much of it into grass for pasture and hay. As more feed was produced, additional livestock were acquired. At first, the villagers were limited to subsistence farming, with nearly all of the crops and livestock raised used to survive, leaving little, if any, surplus for sale or trade.

Diversions from the arduous work were few. Leisure was not a concept known to the Doukhobors since, according to their teachings, people were not supposed to be idle. All the same, the villagers socialized as they worked together in the village and in the fields. Work and leisure thus formed an integrated whole. Prayer meetings (molenie) were a major weekly social event on Sunday morning. Other less formal social gatherings were held from time to time.

Generally speaking, the Doukhobors shared many of the same experiences as other settlers. Isolation, loneliness, harsh weather, deprivation and adversity were met with persistence, optimism, thrift, resourcefulness and the acceptance of unremitting hard work. At the same time, their life was made easier in that they were a close-knit community and worked together, whereas a single homesteader often lived by himself, far from other neighbours.

Growth and Prosperity

In spite of the initial hardships of pioneer life, Vozvyshenie grew and even prospered. By the taking of the Census of Northwest Provinces in 1906, it was a bustling village of forty-five people living in eleven households. Now the villagers had eighteen horses, thirty-seven milk cows and forty-seven horned cattle. They had brought a large area surrounding the village under cultivation and had begun to produce a surplus of agricultural products.

By this time, the Doukhobors were no longer alone. Following the Dominion Lands Survey in 1904, in which sections and quarter-sections were laid out, hundreds of new settlers poured into the district. The vast bulk of these people were Galicians from Western Ukraine and Scandinavians – Swedes and Norwegians – who arrived via the United States. Other groups included English and Scottish settlers from Ontario and Russian and Ukrainian Evangelical Protestants who, like the Doukhobors, fled Tsarist Russia to avoid religious persecution. They all came seeking a better way of life, bringing with them a diversity of languages, manners and customs.

It was evident that the Doukhobor village was a gathering place for many of the newcomers where they met to discuss local news, weather conditions and matters relating to the land and its settlement. To some extent, the newcomers were dependent on more established settlers for advice and direction to start their own homesteads, and the Doukhobors were foremost in offering hospitality and generosity to all who came to them for assistance.

A line of spruce trees marks the central street of Vozvyshenie, a mile southwest of Hyas on Highway No. 49.

For instance, when the first groups of Russian and Ukrainian Evangelical Protestants arrived in the district, they stayed at Vozvyshenie for several days, and with the help of the Doukhobors, got to their homesteads. The two groups of settlers, being able to converse in their native language, remained on friendly terms, visited one another’s homes and engaged in lively philosophical discussions. Indeed, one Evangelical Protestant settler, Pavel Skripnik, was so impressed by the Doukhobor way of life that he converted to their faith and took the surname “Skripnikoff”.

With the influx of settlers, regular mail service became available in 1903 as the Plateau post office was opened on Fred Wright’s farm on Section 16 of Township 33. In 1905, it was moved to the general store belonging to Adolph Kennedy on Section 20 of Township 33 and renamed the Ulric post office. Then, from 1909 to 1911, it was re-opened as the Cokato post office on Tom Tetlock’s farm on Section 26 of Township 33. Mail was conveyed fortnightly by stage from Kamsack via Fort Pelly. With this convenience, settlers were better able to transact business and maintain correspondence with friends and relatives in outlaying parts of the country.

Despite the rapid growth of the district, however, the settlers were disadvantaged by the lack of accessibility and distance of markets. The main supply route, the Fort Pelly Trail, provided a tenuous link to the outside world and was often impassible by horse and wagon. Although supplies could be obtained locally at Kennedy’s or at the Hudson Bay Company store at Fort Pelly, fourteen miles to the east, the nearest market for livestock and grain was the town of Canora, located twenty miles to the south, which was too far away to be practical and economical.

The railway had been promised, but each autumn after the ground had frozen, when it came time for grain hauling, there was no sign of a railway and the settlers had to haul their grain to Canora. The Doukhobors hitched two teams of horses to a sleigh and hauled up to sixty bushels per load. The entire trip consumed two days. During the relatively mild winters of 1905 and 1906, the journey was bearable. However, during the severe winter of 1907, the heavy loads often got upset in the deep snow and it was several days before they got back to the village. Similar long and arduous journeys were made to drive the cattle the Doukhobors raised overland to Canora.

Abandonment and Dissolution

by the end of 1907, many of the Doukhobors had grown dissatisfied with the lack of railway facilities, the difficulty of getting goods to market and the resulting unprofitability of their farms. It was generally established that grain could not be profitably marketed if had to be hauled by horse and wagon for a distance greater than ten to twelve miles to a railway point.

After much deliberation, most decided that the economic benefits of relocating closer to the railhead outweighed the limitations of staying at Vozvyshenie. Consequently, eight of the eleven families abandoned their homestead entries, left the village and relocated to new homesteads which had been thrown open in the district north-east of Canora. Their partially improved homestead entries were eventually taken up by new settlers.

The departure of the majority of families led to the dissolution of the village. The remaining families – those who were unwilling or perhaps unable to abandon their efforts and relocate to another district – moved out onto their individual homesteads. As houses and barns were removed or dismantled for building materials, the physical structure of the village was reduced to the farmstead of the family homesteading the village quarter-section. Thus, the Doukhobor village of Vozvyshenie, which only a year before had bustled with activity and promise, disappeared from the map.

Log farmhouse of Alexei Barisoff – the last remaining building of Vozvyshenie.

New Beginnings

The families who stayed behind – those of Alexei Derhousoff, Zakhar Derhousoff and Alexei Barisoff – continued to prove up their entries on Section 6 of Township 34. In due course, they obtained patents to the land. They were joined by another Doukhobor family, that of Ivan Nahornoff, who arrived in the district from Russia in 1910 and purchased (desirable homesteads were now hard to come by so that new settlers had to purchase land) the southeast quarter of Section 35 of Township 33. The 1911 Canada Census reported twenty-one people in these four families. Their mixed farming operations were amongst the most prosperous and successful in the district.

Ironically, in the end, the railway eventually did arrive. In late 1911, the Canadian Northern Railway Company completed the final section of the Thunderhill Branch Line from Pelly, through the district, to Preeceville. Its construction made life significantly easier for the local settlers, ending their isolation, giving them direct access to markets, stimulating agricultural and economic growth and acting as a catalyst for local improvements, including the construction of a modern road system.

The following year, the railway company constructed a siding, with a boxcar station and loading platform, on the northwest quarter of Section 5 of Township 34. A hamlet was surveyed there, which soon boasted a post office, school, two general stores, restaurant, elevator, bank, hotel, blacksmith and livery stable along with numerous residences. It became a small commercial centre where local farmers came to ship livestock and grain to market, transact business and pick up necessary supplies and also collect mail. Thus the community of Hyas, as it came to be known, was established as it is today.

Ironically, the district’s earliest settlers, the Doukhobors, did not long remain to enjoy these modern developments. As land values soared and land grew scarcer along the new branch line, the Barisoff, Derhousoff and Nahornoff families, unable to expand their landholdings (following the arrival of the railway, the price of farmland per acre rose significantly), and desiring to live closer to their coreligionists, sold out in 1914-1915 and relocated to the Kamsack district, a predominantly Doukhobor-settled area, where they purchased new farms.

Conclusion

Time has erased most, but not all, traces of the Doukhobor village of Vozvyshenie. A line of spruce trees – now part of the shelterbelt surrounding the Serdachny family farm – still marks the central street of the village. A solitary log farmhouse nearby stares silently at the traffic passing by on the highway west of Hyas. Little else remains except in old records, yellowed photographs and in the memories of the villagers passed down to their descendants. Yet, the story of Vozvyshenie offers a unique perspective of the history of the district, the Doukhobor contribution to its development and the myriad factors which led to the founding of some Prairie settlements and the demise of others.

As well, the story of Vozvyshenie offers an interesting counterpoint to previous interpretations of Independent Doukhobor settlement on the Prairies. In the past, scholars had interpreted the Independents’ abandonment of communal villages as an outright rejection of that form of settlement. In the case of Vozvyshenie, however, while these Independents rejected communal ownership and living, they did not abandon the concept of “community”. Instead, they sought to maintain a community in the context of cooperativism and individual land ownership. In doing so, they opted for a form of settlement more akin to that which they had left in Russia, than either the utopian communalism of the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood, on one hand, or the rugged individualism of “Canadian” settlers, on the other. It was only later, when increased wealth and economic opportunity made them less dependent on each other, that the Doukhobors of Vozvyshenie discarded the traditional Russian village model as being no longer necessary for either their physical survival or the preservation of their spiritual life.

Bibliography

  • Barry, Bill. Correspondence. May 13-19, 2006.
  • Barschel, J.F. Paul, “A History of Canora and District” (Canora, Saskatchewan: Canora Golden Jubilee Committee, 1960).
  • Belous, Wilf. Interview. June 15, 2005.
  • Canadian Genealogy Centre, “Post Offices and Postmasters Database”.  Retrieved June 1, 2006, from http://www.collectionscanada.ca/archivianet/post-offices/index-e.html.
  • Deduke, Dan. Interview. July 3, 2005.
  • Dobbyn, Ed & Gwen Palmer, “Lasting Impressions: Historical Sketches of the Swan River Valley” (Swan River: Swan Valley Historical Society, 1984).
  • Information Services Corporation of Saskatchewan: Certificate of Title No. MM94, dated October 25, 1910, issued for NW6-34-2-W2 to Zakhar Dergowusoff; Certificate of Title No. 228MQ, dated December 22, 1910, issued for NW6-34-2-W2 to Alec Dergowusoff; Certificate of Title No. 67OW, dated October 2, 1913, issued for NW6-34-2-W2 to Joseph Derhousoff; Certificate of Title No. 200PF, dated April 14, 1914, issued for NW6-34-2-W2 to Louie Slegel; Certificate of Title No. 37MS, dated January 27, 1911, issued for NE6-34-2-W2 to Alexey Dierhousoff; Certificate of Title No. 129OW, dated October 8, 1913, issued for NE6-34-2-W2 to Joseph Derhousoff; Certificate of Title No. 204PF, dated April 14, 1914, issued for NE6-34-2-W2 to Louie Slegel; Certificate of Title No. 370, dated 1908, issued for SW6-34-2-W2 to Alexey Barisoff; Certificate of Title No. 74PU, dated April 23, 1915, issued for SW6-34-2-W2 to Louie Slegel.
  • Library and Archives Canada, Census of Canada, 1911, Saskatchewan, Mackenzie District No. 210, Sub-district No. 25, p. 6.
  • Library and Archives Canada, Census of the Northwest Provinces, 1906, Saskatchewan, Mackenzie District No. 14, Sub-district No. 27, pp. 1-2.
  • Library and Archives Canada, RG 15, Department of the Interior, Vozsvishennie Doukhobor Village File, File No. 5404684.
  • Regehr, T.D. The Canadian Northern Railway, Pioneer Road of the Northern Prairies 1895-1918. (Toronto: Macmillan, 1976).
  • Saskatchewan Archives Board, Edgar Bray, Surveyor’s Note Book, November 16, 1903, File I.73.
  • Saskatchewan Archives Board, Homestead Files: File No. 878895, Alexey Barisoff, SW6-34-2-W2; File No. 1390749, George Zadubriwski, SE6-34-2-W2; File No. 1416184, Alexey Dierhous, NE6-34-2-W2; File No. 1410052, Zakhar Dergowusoff, NW6-34-2-W2.
  • Saskatchewan Archives Board, Ulric School District No. 2432 File.
  • Statutes of Canada, 1903, Chapter 97.
  • Tarasoff, Koozma J. “Doukhobors” in Paul Robert Magocsi, (ed.). Encyclopedia of Canada’s People. (Toronto: University of Toronto Press, 1999), pp. 422-435.
  • The Canadian Encyclopedia. 2000 edition. (Toronto, Ontario: McClelland and Stewart, 1999).
  • The Norquay North Star, “History of Hyas Dates Back to 1910.” (May 20, 1955), p.5.
  • The Norquay North Star, “Pioneers Came to South Hyas in 1905.” (May 20, 1955), p. 4.
  • The Norquay North Star, “The History of Stenen.” (May 20, 1955), p. 6.
  • Tracie, Carl J., “Toil and Peaceful Life: Doukhobor Village Settlement in Saskatchewan, 1899-1918” (Regina: Canadian Plains Research Center, University of Regina, 1996).
  • Woodcock, George & Ivan Avakumovic. The Doukhobors. (Toronto: Oxford University Press, 1968), p. 240.

This article was reproduced by permission in:

History of the Doukhobors in the Rural Municipality of Good Lake

Compiled by Jonathan J. Kalmakoff

The Rural Municipality of Good Lake No. 274 was established on January 1, 1913.  Situated in the area surrounding Good Spirit Lake, Saskatchewan, it is comprised of Townships 28, 29 and 30 in Ranges 4, 5 and 6, west of the Second Meridian. Much of the eastern and northern portions of the municipality were originally settled by Doukhobor immigrants from Russia in 1899, who established a series of communal settlements, and later, independent homesteads, there. The following brief article outlines the history of the Doukhobors of Good Lake and their contribution to the development of the municipality over the past century.

The Doukhobors were a religious movement founded in early 18th century Russia and Ukraine. The name dukho + bortsy, meaning “Spirit Wrestlers” in Russian, was given to them in derision by church clerics to imply “those who fight against the Holy Spirit”; however, the Doukhobors adopted the name, reinterpreting it to mean “those who fight with the Spirit of God”.

The Doukhobors rejected the doctrines, rituals and priesthood of the Orthodox Church and denied the authority of the Tsarist state. Their practical, commonsense teachings were based on the belief that the Spirit of God resides in the soul of every person, and directs them by its word within them. Their teachings consist of a collection of psalms and proverbs, called the Living Book, passed down orally from one generation to the next. Their ceremony consists of a simple prayer meeting recited around a table with bread, salt and water. The Doukhobors were frequently persecuted for their faith by authorities and forced to live in the frontier regions of the Russian Empire. Over time, they developed their own unique culture, traditions and way of life.

Map of 1899 Good Spirit Lake Doukhobor reserve overlaid with RM of Good Lake boundary as of 1913.

In 1895, the Doukhobors refused to perform military service and burned their firearms in a symbolic demonstration against violence. Their pacifist stand was met with renewed persecution by Tsarist authorities and many were tortured, imprisoned or exiled. Their plight attracted international attention, and with the assistance of the famous Russian novelist Leo Tolstoy and the Society of Friends (Quakers), the Doukhobors sought refuge by immigrating to Canada.

In early 1899, over 7,500 Doukhobors arrived in Canada in four shiploads at the ports of Halifax and Quebec. It was the single largest mass immigration in Canadian history. The Doukhobor immigrants then travelled west by rail to Brandon, Winnipeg, Selkirk and Yorkton, where they spent their first winter in Immigration Shelters there.

That spring, the Doukhobors settled on four large tracts of homestead land reserved for them in the Northwest Territories by the Dominion Government of Canada, in the present-day districts of Blaine Lake, Langham, Pelly, Arran, Kamsack, Veregin, Canora and Buchanan, Saskatchewan.

Doukhobor Village of Kalmakovka Just Under Construction, 1899. British Columbia Archives E-09609.

One of these tracts, known as the “Good Spirit Lake Annex”, was situated along the north half of Good Spirit Lake and to the northwest along its tributary, Spirit Creek. It was comprised of 168,930 acres, or six townships (including Township 30 of the present-day RM of Good Lake). It was there that approximately 1,000 Doukhobors settled in May 1899.

Upon their arrival in the Good Spirit Lake Annex, the Doukhobors established a communal way of life. All land, livestock, machinery and other property was held in common. Working together, they cleared the forest and brush, broke the land, planted grain fields, raised livestock herds, and built eight villages, as well as flourmills, elevators, trading stores and other enterprises. Four of their villages were located within the present-day RM of Good Lake and were as follows:

Blagosklonnoye
In 1899, Doukhobors from Elizavetpol, Russia established a village along the east shore of Good Spirit Lake. As there was an abundance of wood, water and fish there, they named the village Blagosklonnoye or Blagosklonnovka, meaning “benevolent” or “favorable” in Russian. In 1905, the village had a population of 185 people living in 46 households, with 966 acres under joint cultivation. Villagers often gathered on the lakeshore to celebrate festivals and hold prayer meetings. The village existed until 1912. [SE 9-30-5-W2]

Goreloye
In 1899, Doukhobors established a village along the northeast shore of Good Spirit Lake. It was named Goreloye or Horeloye after the village in Elizavetpol, Russia from whence they came. In 1905, the village had a population of 51 people living in 5 households. The village existed until 1910. [NE 17-30-5-W2]

Kalmakovo
In 1899, Doukhobors established a village along the southeast shore of Patterson Lake. It was originally named Novo-Spasskoye after the village in Elizavetpol, Russia from whence they came. In 1902, it was renamed Kalmakovo or Kalmakovka, after the Kalmykov line of Doukhobor leaders in 19th century Russia. In 1905, the village had a population of 140 people living in 43 households, with 775 acres under joint cultivation. The village existed until 1919. [SE 30-30-5-W2]

Utesheniye
In 1899, Doukhobors from Elizavetpol, Russia established a village along the northeast shore of Patterson Lake. In comparison to the persecution they experienced in Russia, the Doukhobors regarded their new home as a place of spiritual and physical solace. For this reason, they named it Utesheniye, meaning “consolation” or “solace” in Russian. In 1905, the village had a population of 181 people living in 47 households, with 960 acres under joint cultivation. The village existed until 1913. [SW 31-30-5-W2]

The villages followed a uniform model. Each village consisted of two rows of houses – one on each side facing into a wide, straight central street. This was the village model they brought from Russia and used extensively throughout the 19th century. The houses and all village buildings were made of log. Each village had dwellings, stables, barns, granaries, carpenter shops, blacksmiths, implement sheds, chicken houses, a banya (“bathhouse”), peche (“clay bake oven”), a prayer home and cemetery. Each dwelling had a large garden and several outbuildings behind it.

During the early years of settlement, many Doukhobor men left the villages to work on railway construction, as farm hands or general labourers. This ‘working out’ provided an important source of revenue for the Doukhobor community. The women thus played an important role in the day-to-day operations of the households and farms.

Official survey of the Doukhobor village of Kalmakovo, September 29, 1907. Saskatchewan Archives Board A36/5.

By 1905, the Dominion Government began to look with disfavour upon the Doukhobor communal way of life and adopted a new policy aimed at encouraging individual farming among them. It now insisted that the Doukhobors fulfill the strict requirements of The Homestead Act, which included individually registering for, living on, and working each homestead parcel, and swearing an Oath of Allegiance to the Crown.

A land ownership crisis ensued, which split the Doukhobor community. A minority of Doukhobors accepted private ownership, moved out of the villages onto their individual homesteads, and began independently working their land in compliance with the homestead requirements. The majority of Doukhobors, however, viewed the land ownership requirements as a violation of their religious principles; consequently, they forfeited their 160-acre homesteads and took up a 15-acre allotment per person on which to carry on their communal way of life. The forfeited homesteads were then opened up to settlers of other nationalities, resulting in a “land rush” by those eager to take up the improved lands abandoned by the Doukhobors. By 1918, the Good Spirit Lake Annex was closed altogether, and the once-thriving communal villages that dotted the Good Spirit landscape were abandoned as their remaining residents moved to the interior of British Columbia.

Doukhobor House in Kalmakovka Village near Good Spirit Lake, c. 1899. British Columbia Archives E-09607.

For the Doukhobors who remained in the RM of Good Lake as independent farmers, they continued to maintain their religious principles as members of the Society of Independent Doukhobors, and later, the Buchanan and Canora Doukhobor Societies. Materially, their story became much the same as other pioneers on the prairies. Economically, they progressed with the rest of the Canadian people, sharing their ups and downs with the booms and the depressions. Educationally, they accepted the Canadian standard and can now be found in all professions. Civically, they have helped contribute towards the grown and development of the municipality.

Doukhobor families who have historically resided in the RM of Good Lake include the following: Bartsoff, Bonderoff, Chernenkoff, Cheveldayoff, Filipoff, Fofonoff, Hancheroff, Holoboff, Horkoff, Kabatoff, Kalmakoff, Kerieff, Konkin, Kotelnikoff, Krukoff, Lazaroff, Makortoff, Maloff, Negraeff, Nichvolodoff, Obedkoff, Ostoforoff, Ozeroff, Pereverseff, Petroff, Plotnikoff, Polovnikoff, Poohachoff, Salikin, Shukin, Sookavaeff, Sookocheff, Soukeroff, Strelioff, Swetlikoff, Vanjoff, Verigin, Wishlow, Zbitnoff, Zeeben and Zuravloff. Today, many of their descendants still reside in the RM of Good Lake and surrounding area, as well as throughout the rest of the world.

This article is reproduced, by permission, in the upcoming publication, The Rural Municipality of Good Lake No. 274: A History (Canora: Rural Municipality of Good Lake, 2013) by Dianne Stinka.  For ordering information about the book, which will be launched at the Centennial celebration of the R.M. on July 27, 2013, visit the Rural Municipality of Good Lake website.

Arrival of the First Group of Doukhobors in Ootischenia, British Columbia, 1908

by William A. Fominoff

In 1908, the Doukhobor Community purchased vast tracts of land in the Kootenay region of British Columbia. They first settled at Waterloo, an abandoned mining camp on the Columbia River, which Doukhobor leader Peter “Lordly” Verigin renamed Dolina Ootischenia meaning “Valley of Consolation”. There, an advance party of 100 men and women arrived from Saskatchewan to prepare the area for future settlement. Among them was William A. Fominoff (1874-1967). The following is his account of their historic arrival. Reproduced by permission from “Castlegar, a Confluence” (Karen W. Farrer (ed), Castlegar: Castlegar & District Heritage Society, 2000).

On May 11, 1908, a party of 100 men and a few women arrived at the CPR whistle stop in Kinnaird. This was a vanguard to pave the way for their wives, children and other Doukhobor families who were compelled to move out from Saskatchewan. Their destination: Ootischenia. Amongst them was a husky young man, William A. Fomenoff, born in Russia September 1, 1874.

Kinnaird’s surrounding area was little more than a wilderness at that time. “There were no accommodations as hotels or motel units as we see them today, so we enjoyed our first night in B.C. under the bright stars, grouped around the once-important whistle stop. Sleeping bags were non-existent at that time, but we covered ourselves with what little belongings we owned,” says Mr. Fomenoff.

“Early the next morning we trekked down to the Columbia River close to the home of Mr. Landis who lived on the east side which is now known as Ootischenia. By previous arrangements Mr. Landis was expecting us. After a whistle and a shout Mr. Landis was up in a jiffy and rowed his boat across the river to pick us up. This was the only means of crossing both the Columbia and Kootenay rivers; there were no bridges nor ferries at that time. The boat could only carry five to six persons at one time including baggage,” says Mr. Fomenoff.

Group of Doukhobor Settlers at Ootischenia, British Columbia, c. 1908. British Columbia Archives A-02072.

“Nick Zeboroff, the man in charge of the party immediately guided us to a campsite left empty by previous logging operations. The camp existed out of one cook house and a large outside dining table which was hand-hewed out of one enormous tree in one solid piece, large enough to seat all the new arrivals (100 men and a few women) at one setting. The seats were made of short stumps for legs with long thin logs rolled on top of them to serve as benches.

“Alex Chernoff, the cook of this camp, had already prepared breakfast and set the plates and dishes on the table and asked everyone to be seated. After saying the Lord’s Prayer, which is a must amongst the Doukhobors, we began our meal.

“After breakfast Nick Zeboroff prepared to dispatch the new arrivals to clear the land of the majestic forest that one adorned Ootischenia. He handed out cross-cut saws, grub hoes, shovels, and other necessary tools and led the group to a designated spot approximately where the future cut off begins to Salmo. Here we proceeded to clear land of timber which was two arm spans in circumference.”

“After clearing a sizeable patch of ground we immediately cultivated it with our grub-hoes and began planting spuds and other vegetables; amongst them watermelons which were noted to be a luxury at the time. In the same months I also helped clear land at the spot where I live now,” notes Mr. Fomenoff.

“Soon after several pairs of horses and less than a dozen head of milk cows arrived from the prairie provinces. This was a great boost to our simple farm life. I helped to transport them from Kinnaird to Ootischenia with a row boat. The first animal (which incidentally was a bull) we tried to lead into the boat and row him across. The attempt failed on the spot. The next thing we did was to try and pull him by the halter with the boat. We kept his head above water with a tow line and he swam across himself. Cows were herded across in the same manner, two at a time, two men holding them by the halters while four men were rowing the boat.

View of Ootischenia from across the Kootenay River in Brilliant, British Columbia, circa 1912. British Columbia Archives A-08737.

“Next followed the horses in the same fashion, but they were not as easy to handle as the cattle were. Thanks to Mr. Dumont, the original settler of Dumont’s subdivision, who permitted us to use his property as a loading point. On his land we dismantled wagons, ploughs and all the farm equipment that was bulky and rowed it across piece by piece. With the help of horses the clearing of land had become more simplified.

“Soon after, a sawmill was constructed and lumber had become an industry apart from farming. Boards were cut in all dimensions and used to construct houses that are still in existence at Ootischenia. George Kanigan and Walter Fofonoff were sawyers on the new sawmill.

“To have a more practical way of crossing the Columbia River from one side to the other, this same year we started to build a ferry. Anchor cables were drug down deep into the ground. We hired a skilled man to supervise the basic construction of this ferry. I believe he was of French origin. He started to build it out of hand-hewed timber and the same men who were clearing the land were also helping to build the ferry.”

Doukhobor communal workers at mealtime in the Kootenays, British Columbia, c. 1912. British Columbia Archives C-01490.

Incomplete Interview Notes

“Land to him most … made by Peter Lordly Verigin his wisdom and admire that he made in development of the land. Peter Vergin lived nearby at Landis’s house which was soon bought out and Landis moved away. … more so. The logs were hewed with a broad axe used to … railroad ties and dragged down the … to the river anchor cables could still be seen which guided the ferry.

“A road was built to Dumont’s … across to … still used as a fishing trail for fisherman. “Before this and … happened where the … rope was tore off from the anchor.

“Before this Peter Lordly Verigin sent delegates to … the ferry which apparently was in good condition. Families of the men arrived and the last of the families and children got across 23rd of June safe and sound. This same day the guide cable on the ferry broke … sill and the cable … on the ferry swing across the river to the west side. … to its original spot and was repaired up again.”

After one year and one month he and his family moved to Grand Forks where he was a fruit farmer for 14 years. After that he moved to Brilliant where he resided for six years before moving back to his original place at Ootischenia where 20 years before he first started to clear land for development, and still lives there.

A Day with the Doukhobors

by Jonathan E. Rhoads

On February 20, 1900, Jonathan E. Rhoads, a Quaker visitor from the United States, accompanied an immigration officer from Rosthern, Saskatchewan to the Doukhobor village of Terpeniye near the North Saskatchewan River.  His personal experiences, observations and impressions were later published in his book, “A Day with the Doukohobors” [sic] (Philadelphia: Wm H. Pile and Sons, 1900) and subsequently in the Manitoba Morning Free Press on March 1, 1902.  With superb imagery and evocative detail, the traveler describes the Doukhobors’ history, prosperity and progress, observance of Canadian law, courtesy and customs, meals, dress and industry, music, as well as their village, homes, interiors, stables and bathhouses.  In doing so, he provides the reader with a rare and fascinating first-hand account, from an impartial, outside perspective, of the Doukhobors shortly after their arrival in Canada.

Rosthern Feb. 20 — The winter dawn had not yet broken when we started through bars of lemon-colored light along the horizon and the lower rosy edges of purple-gray clouds basked towards the east, gave promise of a perfect day. Here and there among the little houses of the town could be seen an ascending column of smoke beckoning that there were others whom necessity or inclination urged to be abroad betimes, but for the most part the very houses seemed asleep. All nature had the hushed expectancy that befits the birth of new day. So rarely still was the air that the barking of a dog, at a farmhouse miles away, was distinctly audible, filtered and clarified through the frosty atmosphere. The cold had sprinkled the polished woodwork of the cutter with rime, and the team – that was matched, neither as to size, color, nor pace but was tough as whip-cord and as game as pheasants – was enveloped in the white halo of their own condensed breath. Bundling ourselves up in ample furs, we gave word and the hostler let go the team’s heads. They reared and snorted for the space of half a minute, till my companion feared the sorrel would lose his balance and fall backwards onto the cutter. Having in this approved western manner, thus indicated their nettle and spirit, they condescended at length to exhibit something of their speed, for they dashed down the street at a gait that was reminiscent of the team race at the Winnipeg Industrial, going over a couple of crossings with a back-breaking jar that was like to have dislocated one’s spinal column. After forty rods of this hippodrome racing they steadied down to a long, fast, swinging trot, the “proputty” “proputty” of their feet making music on the bare frozen roads. When, in a few minutes, the little town was left behind, and the broad prairie stretched before us, the dominant note changed to the banging of the runners as they struck some lump on the snow-trail and the noise of the team’s hoofs changed to a quick crunching pattern.

There were two of us, the immigration officer and myself. We were up in Saskatchewan, in the gore of country, between the two forks of the mighty river that gave the territory its name. It is a new country, ten years ago the undisturbed home of the fox and the Indian. Five summers ago there was nothing to see of the hustling little town of Rosthern we had just left. The long grading of the railway that swung in a shallow curve northward from Regina, and the naked telegraph poles, were the only objects that broke the monotony of the, except the water tank that could be seen above the scrubby timber growth that covered the site of the town. On still mornings the beaver colonies could be seen at work in the little streams that flowed into the Saskatchewan. The long lines of freight trains were sometimes visible winding their way over the prairie trails, bringing peltries from the western fur, or returning thither with the season’s supplies. In the spring, there were no squares of black plowing that marked where the husbandman had begun to subdue to the needs of mankind the fertile soil of this part of the Canadian Northwest, and in the autumn the click of the binder would have been listened for in vain. But, although it is still a new country, it has undergone a transformation. It is dotted with homesteads and diapered with fields. Comfortable, if not pretentious homes can be seen on every hand. Commodious barns and outbuildings attest the thrift and the thoroughness of the men who have selected the spot for their home. If luxury and style are conspicuous by their absence, so also is poverty, and the sense of hopeless acquiescence in misfortune that too often accompanies it. The poorest settler is rich in hope and the sublime confidence in the future of the locality, which is one of the characteristics of the west. He knows that a wise investment of skilful labor will, with favoring seasons and fertile soil, in a few years put him in an enviable position of competence, and the knowledge makes him feel the peer of any, and serves to stimulate him to more strenuous endeavor.

A Prospering District

We had nearly thirty miles to travel before we could reach our destination, for we were going straight west to the further bank of the north fork of the Saskatchewan. The intervening country varied little, if at all, from the average of Canadian prairie. Shallow hollows alternated with rolling crests, much of it covered with poplar and willow saplings, the tender green and brown of which made, with the dazzling snow, a color scheme beautiful in its harmony. An occasional twisted, gnarled oak, whose stunted deformity proclaimed its proximity to the polar limit of its growth, was almost the only variant to the tree life of the plain. The land was nearly all upland in character, few if any hay meadows being passed on the way. Each few miles could be seen the neat outbuildings erected by the Territorial government to protect the well bored for public use. The material progress of the settlement was illustrated and epitomized on nearly every farm. The original “shack” in which the settler first lived could be seen abandoned – to the use of the hens. Next in the scale of progression came the little log house, which, when continued success had warranted the erection of a neat frame dwelling, was regaled to use as a granary or implement shed. In some few cases a further advance had been made and a commodious brick dwelling evidenced the financial well being of the farmer. A number of windmills could also be seen affording fresh testimony of the district’s advance in material prosperity.

My companion beguiled the way by narrating instances of the improvement in the condition of the settlers and the district, as suggested by the various houses we passed. Yonder house with the big barn was So-and-So’s place. He came here in ‘96 and made enough money to pay his homestead fee. That was his herd over here by the straw-stack – over twenty of them and he had sold six or seven this fall. That place with the windmill belonged to a man who came here from Germany four years ago. He had $600. Now he has three-quarters of a section of land, all the implements he needs, three as fine working teams could be found in the Territories, good framed house and all necessary conveniences and in his granary 4,500 bushels of wheat. In yonder little house lived a Swede. He had nothing when he came out in ‘98. He worked on the section and at threshing and did his homestead duties cultivated this farm at the intervals between other work. There he was hauling cordwood to Rosthern, with his ox team. In five years’ time he would be as prosperous as any farmer around. All of them, three or four years since, were in the same condition that he was today. And, with countless iteration, and some slight variations in the individual instances, the story was the same – that of competence and comfort having been extracted from the fertile soil of the Canadian prairie.

After a time settlement grew sparser. As the river was approached the homesteads grew more and more scattered, and sometimes a house was not in sight in any direction. Far to the north rose the graceful outlines of the Blue-Hills, a golden saffron where the morning light caught their snow-clad sides, the belts of timber of their base showing wonderful seal brown colorings, and the shadowed scaurs and ravines intersecting them blue with the blueness of a June sky. Closer at hand could be seen the mile-wide valley trenched out by the Saskatchewan, and between the fringing zones of birch, elm, and poplar ran a snowy riband, marking the course of the great river. When we approached the crest of the bank, and stopped to breathe our team before negotiating the precipitous descent, we looked on a scene that was worth coming far to see – a panorama combining many of the elements of pastoral beauty.

A Perilous Passage

But a few moments could be allowed for the contemplation of the scenery, for the crossing of the valley was a proposition demanding present and practical solution. Of trail there was scarce semblance. For three hundred feet our path lay down a slope as steep and as smooth as a toboggan slide. At its foot were a few willow scrub, and then came a clear drop of fifty or sixty feet. If the team became unmanageable, and could not be stopped at the foot of the slide, the prospect of the drop beyond was not reassuring. However, two miles away, against the skyline on the opposite bank was the Doukhobor village of Terpennie we had driven near thirty miles to see, and one of us, at least, did not propose to turn back after coming so far. The interpreter said he would walk down, so as to lighten the load and pilot the way. He started slowly and cautiously, but soon the slope and his weight increased his speed. His feet twinkled faster and faster through the powdery snow, that rose up and enveloped him waist high, like a halo, above which his rotund body and gesticulating arms could be seen as he rushed to what seemed almost certain destruction. But Providence, in the shape of the aforementioned willow bushes, interposed, and he crashed into their interposing boughs, and fell, a portly, breathless heap of humanity, among their protected branches. Next it was my turn. I grasped the lines short, braced myself against the foot rail, and chirrupped to the team. But neither of them exhibited the slightest inclination to proceed. The sorrel was particularly rebellious, and plunged and reared on the edge of the steep in a most nerve -racking fashion. Finally, with delicate little steps and snorts of fear, they were persuaded to essay the descent.

Until a little more than half way down, all went well. Then one of them slipped, and in a second cutter and team were slithering down, the former on their haunches. Down below I could see my companion scramble with frantic haste out of our line of descent. His plump figure could be seen through the blinding snow-mist raised by the horses, crashing through the underbrush with an agility out of the proportion to his weight. At the foot of the hill I partly succeeded in pulling the team to the left, thus avoiding the sheer drop ahead, and giving the horses an opportunity of catching their feet. The thin, limber willow twigs sang like whips as, bowing my head and straining on the lines, we dashed into the brush. There was a moment’s wild rush, then a plunge, and a bump, and the cutter was still – jammed against a tree stump whose top was covered with snow. The horses shook themselves, gave a snort or two and then the brown proceeded nonchalantly to help himself to some outcropping tufts of slough grass. Neither of the team had a scratch, and no injury was apparent to the cutter. My companion “lost his English” as he described the slide and went off into German and Russian and Polish and Magyar in recounting its incidents. Only one difficult place remained to be negotiated – where a small stream from a ravine flowed across the track. One of the horses fell while being led over the glair ice and had to be dragged across. But with the exercise of care that the whiffletrees did not strike any stumps, we wound our way down the valley, and on to the ice-bound, snow-covered Saskatchewan.

Doukhobor Courtesy

Across this noble river, nearly thrice as wide as the Red at Winnipeg, we went diagonally upstream, skirting an island nearly in its centre – on the farther side of which we could see a yawning black slit in the river’s snowy mantle, where the swift, inky current boiled over its rocky bed. Up stream a little ravine wound upward from the river affording an easy natural gradient, by which to gain the general level. Halfway up we met a party of five Doukhobors – grave, deliberate men, large of stature, slow of speech, with an unaffected natural courtesy, both simple and dignified. We reined up that my companion might speak, and one of them, with whom he was acquainted, introduced us to the four. Each, as his name was mentioned, lifted his heavy black fur cap and bowed. They told us the village was half a mile from the top of the ravine, and that they were on their way to cut some logs for building next spring. They had been cutting ever since they came off the section when it froze up. They would float some of the logs down in the spring, but those that were nearer were being hauled in by the oxen. They lifted their hats again and bowed as we drove on. “Talk about French politeness,” said my companion, “it’s not in it with the courtesy of these people.” They raise their hats whenever they meet each other, and differ from Frenchmen in that they are quite as polite to their own people as they are to strangers. I’ve traveled a great deal, and never saw such genuine simplicity and courtesy. Wait till you get to the village and you’ll see that all I’ve said is true.

We were now almost at the point where the ravine opened out on the general level. A good trail led all the way to the village, which could be plainly seen a short distance ahead. We passed two yokes of oxen, hitched one ahead of the other, hauling some building logs, slug under the axels of a wagon. The logs were fully forty feet long – so long that chains had to be substituted for the usual wagon reach. The oxen were in the very pink of condition, and swung their heads with their legs as they contentedly rolled along, chewing their cud. The men lifted their caps and hailed us in Russian, to which the interpreter replied, and a few minutes afterwards we drove into the village.

Doukhobor house, Saskatchewan Colony, c. 1902. Glenbow Archives NA-949-103.

The Village of Terpennie

The impression it made at first sight was odd and prepossessing. Outside the Doukhobor communities, the like is not to be seen elsewhere in the Canadian west. Imagine a street half as broad again as Main street, Winnipeg, lined on each side with long low yellow buildings, roofed with sod or thatch. The gable end of each of these is towards the road, from which it is separated by a neatly railed garden. Each building – they are from fifty to sixty feet long – is divided into almost equal parts by a door admitting into an inner porch. Doors at opposite ends of this admit, the one towards the road to the dwelling house, and the one remote to it to the stable. The buildings are all one story high, though a small window in the gable showed that the upper portion is used, presumably for purposes of storage. The walls of all the buildings are of immense thickness, and have a pleasing chrome tint. They have almost as smooth and finished an appearance as the best plaster work of a Canadian artisan. The sod roofs are laid with the care and almost regularity, of shingles. The yard at the side of the buildings is swept clean and free from dust, chips, and other debris– indeed the first person we saw in the village was a woman sweeping the snow covered yard. It reminded one of the Dutch cleanliness that scrubs the very roadways.

Hardly had our team come to a standstill before a dozen of the villagers came hurrying forward to proffer assistance in unhitching and stabling the horses. The men doffed their caps, as they advanced with ceremonious politeness and the women crossed their arms over their breasts and bowed, accompanying the movement with a quick intake of breath, similar to that given by a Japanese when accosting an acquaintance. All the men were of good physical type, indeed most of them were splendidly built. The deputy headman of the village, who came in the absence of the chief, to invite us to his house, was a magnificent specimen of manhood. Considerably over six feet in height, broad of shoulder and deep of chest, he would have made no mean antagonist in any competition demanding strength and staying power. The women were not nearly as well built. They were all comparatively shorter than the men, stockily and sturdily built, but lacking in any natural grace or charm. Their faces at about the same age were very similar – indeed, they all seemed to have been turned out of the same mould, being round and with little or no play of feature. Their lips were full, their noses short, almost snubby, their eyes set wide apart, and lack-luster and expressionless. The girls and young women were thick of waist and ankle, and like the men, slow, almost ponderous in their movement. The older women were shapeless as ill-tied-up bundles and their skins were of a color like parchment and seamed with innumerable wrinkles.

The Home and Stable

These observations were made as I stood watching a half-dozen lads un-harness the team. They were led through the same door from which the headman had emerged to welcome us, but instead of turning to the left – to the portion of the building occupied by himself and family – they were taken to the other end, used as a stable. We followed them in to assure ourselves of their good treatment. It was almost dark for two panes of glass, each not a foot square, were the only means of lighting it. But barring the darkness and the lack of ventilation, the building was as comfortable as any stockman could desire. The walls – of turf thirty inches plastered within and without made the warmest of stables.

The stalls were neatly divided by peeled pole partitions, and the mangers were similarly constructed. Bedded comfortably on straw were three milk cows, five or six young stock and a fine team of oxen. All were in the very pink of condition and, in fact, they seemed fit for either the show-ring or the butcher.

This duty to the team performed, we crossed the inner hall into the living room. As we entered, the headman took off his hat in welcoming salutation – replacing it a moment afterwards – and his wife, daughter and daughter-in-law bowed. They led us to the store, where after divesting ourselves of our fur coats and while warming ourselves, we had the opportunity of inspecting the interior arrangements of a Doukhobor home.

The room was about fourteen broad and twenty feet in length. Its floor was of earth, packed smooth and hard as though made of boards. The walls were smoothly plastered and neatly whitewashed. Two windows, each about three feet square supplied the apartment with light. The sashes, being set almost flush with the outside of the thick turf wall, gave window ledges fully two feet in breadth on the inside, and on these were a number of house plants, thrifty and carefully tended and evidently much prized. Among them were two that had been brought all the way from Batoum on the Black Sea.

A Doukhobor Interior

The principal object in the room was the large stove and oven, built in the corner at the right of the entrance. It was about seven feet square, made, as was the building, of plaster. It was constructed on somewhat the same lines as a baker’s oven, the heat from the firebox passing directly into the oven, heating the plaster floor and roof to the necessary temperature for baking, the fire being raked out to prevent the smoking of the articles to be cooked before the latter were put in. The heat absorbed and retained by the thick plaster will maintain the oven at the proper baking heat for hours. The top of the oven is about six feet high, and the space intervening between it and the roof – about four feet – is often used in winter as a bed place. While not as soft and yielding to the body as springs and mattresses, no exception could be taken to its warmth on a cold winter night. At the side of the oven were three square chambers – cupboards without doors – built into its sides. They were each about a foot square, and of about the same depth. In them were piled socks, mitts, and similar articles to dry. One corner of the oven was built up almost to the roof. It also contained a hot air chamber. An ordinary American stovepipe carried off the smoke.

Around three sides of the room ran a bench. On the sides opposite the stove and the entrance it was of thick planed plank, supported by stout legs and scrubbed to a spotless cleanliness. But on the other side the bench was continued flush with the front of the stove, and completely filled the broad space between it and the opposite end of the room. It thus formed a broad shelf, from twelve to fourteen feet in length, and more than six feet in width. The boards were polished a dark brown by constant use. This shelf was the family sleeping place. There was ample room for two parties of sleepers on this shelf. The bed clothing – beautifully made and spotlessly clean – was neatly rolled in a big bundle. Here slept the headman and his wife, and his sixteen year old daughter.

While inspecting the sleeping arrangements, the headman took us out to the hall again and showed us the apartment of his married son. It was a tiny room, not more than nine by six feet, in which there was hardly room for a small bed, a huge chest and a tiny box stove. Like the general living room, the interior was neatly white-washed, and kept spotlessly clean. A shelf or two contained a few domestic treasures and articles of feminine use and adornment. The bed linen was carefully rolled up at the one end of the bed, as was the case in the general room. The floor, too, was of packed earth, as in the other instance.

The Doukhobors, like all continental peoples, are fond of pictures. Highly colored religious lithographs oleographs of German and Russian production hung about the walls, and were evidently not among the least prized of the room’s furnishings. These formed a striking contrast with the calendars issued by the Rosthern merchants, which divided the honors with them. In one house, I saw a reproduction of Raphael’s Madonna del Sista, and overlapping it was a picture of an excited Irishwoman belaboring a bawling donkey that had stopped on the track in front of an approaching train.

Almost equally startling contrasts could be met with wherever the eye looked. The east and the west met here. On the wall could be seen the Russian counting machine, – a light frame with variously colored wooden beads, strung on wire, almost identical with that used by primary teachers in number lessons. It came to Russia, hundreds of years ago, and is a modification of the Chinese machine, the earliest denary system of mathematics known. The headman said he was now able to calculate, without the aid of the machine, though he was much faster with it. At the interpreter’s request, he went through some lightning calculations with the instrument, performing not only additions and subtractions, multiplications, with a rapidity that would move many an accountant to envy. On the bare bed-bench could be seen a spinning-wheel, antique and quaint in shape, that suggested memoirs of the fair Marguerite. In sharp contrast with these old-world relics were the American alarm clocks, ticking against the wall, and the modern cheap stove, used to heat the apartment – for the big oven was used almost wholly for baking.

The Doukhobor’s History

We set down on the edge of the bed-bench and talked to the head man. He told us his name was Jacob Iwachin (Ewashen) and that he came out with the first migration to Canada. He told us somewhat of the disabilities and privations they had suffered while in Russia. “According to our religion,” said he, “we may not lift arms. We could not with conscience enter military service to fight. But we told the Russian government that we would do anything for the nation’s service except fight. They told us we could go into the forestry branch, which is part of the army services, and this we willingly did, and for years we served the term of our conscription in planting and caring for the thousands of acres of trees set out by the Russian government. But after a time – in the reign of the last Nicholas – they tried to compel us to carry guns, and because we would not, they said we were not good Russians. And they drove us from our farms, and harried us like the partridges on the mountains. They imprisoned the men and ill-treated our women. They burned our homes and drove us down towards the Caucasus in winter. There many of our little children died of cold and exposure. But God looked down, and He is just, and in the spring we built and tilled, and sowed, and the good God gave us a good harvest from soil that had never yielded well before. And in a few years we had made homes in our new place, and then the government sent the Cossacks on us again. They took our crops, our cattle, our money, and all that we had. They burned our houses. Some of our leading men they drove into exile. Many were sent to the salt mines and lead mines of Siberia. The prisons were full of men whose only crime was that they refused to learn to slay their brethren. My brother is in Siberia – at a salt mine in Irkutsk. He has been there eighteen years, and nothing can de done to get him out. He will die there, exiled and martyred. He was a teacher, and because the people loved him, and he made many believe as he did, they took him from his wife and his baby and made him walk for months chained to a felon, and buried him alive in a mine. Will not God judge these men? Yes, surely He will, and He will give us and him strength to bear our sorrow.” And the man lifted his cap, and bowed his head in silent prayer for the brother in his living death, while his wife sobbed quietly as she rocked herself on a low stool. His simple eloquence, though it may have lost much in translation, was very affecting. His voice vibrated with a wonderful resonance as he spoke of the sufferings of his people.

His fine, impressive and picturesque presence, and the natural grace and dignity of his gestures, were very striking. In a little time he resumed: “We did all we could. We told the government we would do anything except learn to fight. I do not think the Tsar knew how his officers were treating us. We hear he is kind and hates war. We sent him letters and petitions but he took no notice, I do not think his officers gave them to him. And all the time the cruelty of the Cossacks went on. But the good God gave most of us strength to hope and endure, though it was very dark. And at last the heart of the Tsarina was moved at our sufferings. One of the petitions reached her, and she spoke on our behalf. We had heard of America, that there men may worship God as they please, and we asked to go there, where we would not vex the Russian government. And the good Tsarina got for us leave to go. She sent her messengers to us with the good news, and we knew that God had pity on our sufferings. They promised us that the government would buy our farms, and that men would be sent to value them. And we got ready with joyful hearts, for the day of our deliverance drew near. The evaluators came and they said the government would give us $165,000 for our farm buildings. They would give us nothing for the land, and the buildings were worth much more, but we made no complaint. They said we should have the money when we got to Batoum. We got there, but the money did not come. We waited two weeks and sent messages, but still it did not come. We could have sold the houses and barns for more than this, if we had broken them up, but the government meant to prevent us going. One ship had sailed, and the captains would not wait, and we heard that the government meant to prevent us going after all, so we sailed and left it, and we have not received it yet. The people of the villages around Rosthern should have got $32,000 of this money if the government had sent it.”

Contented With Canada

“And so you are glad you came to Canada?” asked the interpreter. “We are all very glad,” answered Iwachin, brightening at the change of subject, and speaking earnestly and impressively. “We cannot tell you how glad. We appreciate the freedom here very much. Yes, this is the place. There is no comparison between this and Russia. All the people have been most kind, and we cannot tell you how grateful we are. We are trying to serve the government, and the country, and God. We shall be very happy here. We will work hard, and the good God will prosper us.

Our conversation as to the past history of the sect was interrupted by the entrance of another Doukhobor, whose incoming was marked by the same ceremonious salutations that had greeted ourselves. Soon afterwards the good wife announced that the meal was ready, and the four men – Iwachin, the newcomer, who rejoiced in the name of Kusnizoff (Kooznetsoff), the interpreter and myself, sat down at the table, which was placed in the corner of the room so as to utilize the benches along two of its sides. The wife waited on us, and the daughter and daughter-in-law sat on the bench – which was so high that their feet were six inches above the floor – and knitted.

A Doukhobor Meal

The table was covered with a coarse clean linen cloth. At one end and one side were placed two finer linen towels, each about six feet long and as broad as a pocket handkerchief. They were ruched or ruffled along the edge of the table, and their purpose I was at a loss to conceive, till the interpreter took one end and placed the other across my knees, when I perceived it was to be used as a napkin or serviette. Evidently the theory of communism obtained even in so small a matter as dinner appointments. Plates – one of them ordinary white heavy ironstone china, the others of quaintly decorated Russian ware, were placed on the inside of the ruffled napkins, but of knife or fork there was never a sign.

Doukhobor village gathering, Saskatchewan Colony, c. 1902.

The goodwife brought up a dish of well cooked potatoes, fried in butter. Fortunately there was a spoon, so that we could help ourselves by that means, but it was evident that fingers were to take precedence over forks. We helped ourselves to the potatoes, and Iwachin cut me off a chunk of bread from the big loaf, and Kusnizoff performed a similar office for the interpreter. There was an abundance of excellent butter, and this, with a bowl of loaf sugar, and tumblers of scalding hot and strong tea formed the meal. The two Doukhobors picked the potatoes from their plates with a neatness and daintiness that neither myself nor the interpreter could hope to emulate, but the long drive in the keen winter air had given me an excellent appetite, and I contrived to do ample justice to the simple fare. The bread was the worst item of the menu. It was very dark in color – about the shade of tobacco – and sour and bitter to the taste. It is ground, “forthright,” in their own mill, and is made from a mixture of wheat, barley, and rye. Its composition probably accounted for the breads color, but nothing could excuse its sodden, sour heaviness. The “flapjacks” of the most unskillful tenderfoot that ever “batched” on the prairie were culinary triumphs by comparison. The wonder is, that with so small a variety of food, and that so badly cooked – for the Doukhobors are strict vegetarians, eating fish, but never meat – that they are such splendidly developed types of manhood.

The goodwife did not use a teapot in pouring the tea, but a samovar, or Russian tea urn, and, as stated above, it was drunk from tumblers instead of cups. All the Doukhobors have sweet teeth, and both Iwachin and Kusnizoff frequently took a lump of sugar from the bowl, and ate it as a relish with the bread. They did not spread the butter on their bread either, but helped their plates with their jack-knives, and ate it with them in the same manner as we would cheese. The meal was preceded and concluded by a grace devoutly said, and Iwachin, despite the differences between his and our code of table manners, presided as host with an urbanity, kindliness, and courtliness that could not have been exceeded. His conversation showed him to be a man of keen observation and shrewd intelligence. He understood thoroughly the theory of representative government as it exists in Canada, and showed himself familiar with the machinery of municipal government. He took a live interest in the education of his people, and made many enquiries as to how the government proposed to deal with this important question.

He told me of the work of Mr. Scherbenin, in Hierolofka (Horelovka), an adjoining village. Mr. Scherbenin is a disciple of Tolstoi, and, though a Russian or rank, and with influential friends and with an education and ability that would have ensured him a brilliant career in the Russian diplomatic or military service, renounced all for conscience sake, and threw in his lot with these simple, brave, patient people. His home in Hierolofka is distinguished from those of the other villagers only in the number of its books and the presence of many scientific instruments. He can make himself understood in every European tongue, and speaks, reads and writes eleven languages with native facility. Yet he walled and plastered his own clay dwelling, and lives the simple communal life of these peasantry as though he had never known a superior station. He has established a school and teaches daily, in addition to primary subjects, the communal theology of Tolstoi, the Canadian system of municipal and federal government, western methods of agriculture and the usages of mercantile business. By virtue of his blameless life and his wide knowledge, he is the arbiter and oracle and final court of appeal to these unlettered folk, who regard him with feelings nearly akin to veneration.

The headman wanted to know if they could not have a teacher who could speak both English and Russian located in every village. He said they were as yet poor, but they would soon be able to pay him well. All were anxious to learn English, but how could they when there was none to teach? Both Kusnizoff and Iwachin frequently asked the interpreter and myself for the English names of some of the things about the house and farm, and would repeat them with the proud satisfaction of a child that has learned a new word, repeating it, with explanatory phrases in Russian, to his wife and daughters, and using the new term on every possible occasion, in order to memorize it. Among their other enquiries were many as to the possibility of securing from the Russian government the money due from the sale of their buildings, of which they had been defrauded.

The Doukhobor’s Dress

The dress of the men differ little from that of the familiar type of Doukhobor seen on the streets of Winnipeg. For outdoor wear, Kusnizoff had a coat of sheepskin, double-breasted and with the pelt outside, with wide flowing skirts, and a cap of Russian military style. Below this was a sort of blouse – a kind of vest with sleeves, something like a stable-man’s jacket – full pantaloons, tucked into heavy knee boots. Iwachin’s garb was similar, excepting that his blouse was somewhat more decorated with embroidery, and that his big overcoat was dyed black. All these garments, including the boots, were made by the Doukhobors themselves.

The three women of Iwachin’s household also wore the characteristic national dress. The mother wore a blouse of curious cut, of woolen material, in a color a sort of washed-out electric blue, and a short woolen skirt, much heavier and coarser in weave, and striped red and white in the direction of its length. Coarsely knitted and warm grey stockings were visible below this, and strong roughly made and heavy boots completed the exterior portion of her attire, with the exception of the peculiar cap of Liberty worn by the patriots of the French Revolution. The cap is generally ornamented with a rosette or red, and its top decorated with a tuft of the same color. The daughter was dressed in the same general style as the elder woman, except that the apron and trimmings were of a brighter color. The garments of her sister-in-law were beautifully embroidered in colors, and were finished with more attention to the niceties of appearance than was the case with the other two women of the household. All wore boots as heavy as those of a British farm laborer, and, as was to be expected, their walk was clumsy and heavy as that of men broken down from excess of hard physical labor. None of the women of the village were equal in physique to the average of the men. Few were more than five feet three in height, but all appeared strong and inured to work. Of the nearly two hundred people inhabiting the village, I saw no variation in the type of women, all being short, thick of waist and ankle, with round faces and full, expressionless features.

Beautiful Weaving

During the meal, I had admired the beautiful decorative work done by the needle on the garments of the daughter-in-law, and at its conclusion the woman of the house displayed specimens of their weaving, dyeing, and embroidery. The articles they exhibited were both useful and ornamental in character. Some of the weaving was particularly fine, the texture of some of the table linen being equal to that produced by the best looms of Belfast. Nearly all the linen was woven with a simple check or diaper pattern in red at the side and ends, and much taste and skill were shown in the arrangement of these. The dark woolen cloth, of which the women’s skirts were made, much resembled Irish frieze. The clothes of the men were made of similar material, but generally lighter in color. Some of the kerchiefs worn by the women were beautifully embroidered in fine wools, work being as well executed as the most captious critic of art needle work could desire, the design being usually regular or geometric, and almost ecclesiastic in simplicity and harmony. The knitting shown me by the daughter-in-law, was as fine as that of the famous Shetland shawls, and of the same gossamery quality. The staple colors for woven fabrics seemed to be browns, fawns, and grays, but in knitted work, and in the more decorative portions of the good intended for personal wear, brilliant coloring is general. The dyeing, the spinning and the weaving are all done by the community. The yarn is spun on the old-fashioned distaff. For the dyeing aniline dyes are coming into general use, and I saw the communal loom, – in sections, for it was not yet put together, and had not been used since the village was founded. It was a primitive wooden arrangement, that would look curiously archaic besides the modern mechanical marvels that fabricate the textiles in general use, but its effectiveness when operated skillfully was beyond question.

When we had finished examining and admiring the work of the women, Iwachin signified through the interpreter his wish that we should see his treasures – to wit, his library. From under the sitting bench running around two sides of the room he produced a box, eighteen inches in length, and a foot in height and breadth. It was as solidly constructed as a treasure chest. It was clamped at the corners with quaintly shaped forgings. Its lock was nearly as massive as that of an English cathedral, and the key was fully six inches long in length and was as beautiful as it was heavy. When the lid was thrown back, the family library could be seen.

Four books bound richly in leather, the bindings beautifully tooled and chased, two of them brass bound at the corners in the way that Bibles used to be, a McCormick catalogue, and half a dozen pamphlets or tracts, completed the catalogue. Iwachin handled them lovingly, and “read aloud a passage or two from the Bible, which was printed – as, indeed, were all with the exception of the implement booklet, – in the Russian character. Kusnizoff could not read, – he said he would learn to read in English, not Russian – but Iwachin read, to us some Christian communal theories from a pamphlet by Tolstoi, for whom, in common with all of his race and religion, he had the highest reverence, as the embodiment of all the personal and public virtues. He told the interpreter that when he learned to speak English – he had just started and learning it was slow, because he was not often in town, and it was very seldom that anyone speaking English came to the village – he would learn to read in English, for he wanted to find out about Canadian government, and Canadian usages, and Canadian history, and these things he knew he could learn by reading books and newspapers. But he thought it would take much trouble, and time, and patience to read the English characters. “The Russian letters,” he said, “are easy to read; not so the English.” I told him it was all a matter of use, whereat he laughed assertingly, displaying as he did so strong, glistening and regular teeth.

A Doukhobor Concert

During the meal Iwachin had promised to get in some of the villagers to sing, and while we had been looking at the books, and our host had been expressing his appreciation of the difficulty and intricacy of the English tongue, they had been coming in by ones and twos. The ceremonious kindliness which had greeted our arrival had marked the greeting given to each newcomer. Each had been formally presented to the interpreter and myself and the men had taken off their caps with a magnificent sweep, and bowed in the Russian manner, and then had shaken hands in the British fashion. The women had bobbed in the “charity curtsey”, and had then betaken themselves to the edge of the bed-bench where their strongly shod feet hung a foot above the earthen floor. There were eight of them in all, short, thickset, sturdy figures, and in their curious head dresses,, their braided over-jackets and brilliantly embroidered aprons of red, green or blue, they formed a picturesque party. The men sat together about the table, and chatted freely with each other in the interval preceding the commencement of the music, but the women said never a word, but sat mute, with downcast eyes, till Iwachin signified the concert might begin. Kusnizoff acted as precentor. He had a reedy but not inharmonious tenor voice, and was evidently the musical authority of the village. Iwachin explained to us that they would sing principally hymns and psalms. He seemed somewhat apologetic about it, and explained that they could sing songs but thought it better not, as there were some young girls present. The explanation mystified us somewhat, as these grave and God-fearing people seemed the most unlikely to sing anything comic or risqué. So I merely said that I sung psalms in metre myself every Sabbath morning in church – for my Presbyterian pastor was not present to controvert my statement as to my regularity in attendance – and settled down to an enjoyment of the musical programme. There was a moment’s silence, and then Kusnizoff’s quavering voice could be heard, “feeling” after the notes as if uncertain of the key, but singing truer and fuller after the second bar. The others joined with voices of varying sweetness and power in a rude and effective harmony.

The music was very slow and mournful in character, and it was all in the minor, many of the intervals and phrases having an almost weird effect. All the voices were nasal in quality, but though the singing would have offended every canon of musical criticism, the combined result was far from unpleasing. In general the men and women sang in unison though occasionally Iwachin, who possessed a rich rough baritone, dropped into harmony, and his wife, whose voice was a pure and strong alto, frequently attempted a part. The women all sang with downcast head, and without any expression whatever, whether facial or musical, but the men seemed to enter much more fully into the spirit of the music, and sang as if they realized the significance of the selections. It was a “Song of Deliverance” Iwachin told the interpreter, though a more mournful poem of praise it had never been my lot to hear. If this weird air symbolized musically the Doukhobor sense of joy, it would keep the imagination working overtime to conceive the solemnity of a Doukhobor dirge.

After I had praised their rendition of this song, they proceeded to give a metrical psalm. It was a curious composition from a musical point of view, being a sort of choral fugue, the harmony being made by the repetition of parts, in the same manner as the rounds or catches we used to sing at college. Like the preceding song, it was in the minor, and in the frequent and disorderly crossing of parts, the irregularity of its measure, and the oddness of its intervals, it came near to being a complete realization of musical chaos. In its formlessness it suggested remotely, the overture in Haydn’s “Creation.” Next they sung something that was much more cheerful – something that had unexpected slurs and yodels, and was brighter, if more barbaric. Every verse or section was started, solus by Kusnizoff, the others not joining in till the second or third bar. Each verse was completed with an unpleasant flattening of its concluding tone, and an accentuation of the nasal quality of the voice, and the note would be chopped off with a clock by the chorus, the precentor, apparently by virtue of his office, prolonging the note for a noticeable interval after the others were silent.

Kusnizoff seemed delighted at my praise of the singing and exhibited almost childish pleasure when I told him that never, in all the concerts I had attended in Europe and America, had I heard music similar to that which they were entertaining us. After four or five selections had been sung, I asked them to sing the only Russian air I knew: “Long live the Tsar,” the Russian nation anthem, the air of which is similar to most in the hymn, “God the All-Terrible.” My request, when interpreted, was discussed with some animation, but finally Iwachin explained that, when they thought of all that the Russian government had made them endure, they could not sing the anthem. They were not Russians now, he said; they had come out to Canada to serve God and to be Canadians, and as soon as they knew enough of the language they would sing the Canadian national hymn. He requested me to sing for their entertainment, and was politely skeptical when I said that nothing but considerations of friendship and the desire for their continued good opinion prevented my compliance.

Doukhobor house, Saskatchewan Colony, c. 1902. Glenbow Archives NA-949-102.

The musical programme must have taken considerably more than half an hour, and in all that time the women maintained their attitude of listless stolidity. The only exception was a little girl of some ten or twelve years of age, who sang but little, but who peered shyly around the edge of the stovepipe at me and to whom I doubtless appeared as strange as would a visitor from Mars.

A Stroll Through the Village

After I had formally thanked them for their music, and Kuznizoff had made a florid speech in reply thereto, Iwachin suggested that we should stroll through the village. The women, on leaving, dropped Iwachin, his wife, the interpreter and myself each one of their bobbing curtsies, and the men lifted their hats with the with the wide-spreading sweep of a Russian military salute as they departed.

The village consisted of but one long street. It ran in a straight line, and was about a hundred and fifty feet in breadth. It was neatly fenced with rails on either side, and the buildings were all arranged with their gable end to the road. All were built on the same general plan as that of Iwachin’s – with a middle entry, the dwelling portion nearest the road, and the stable in the other end of the building. Occasionally a pole fence could be seen running back from the road to the depth of the lot, but in general there was no division between the communal properties. At the rear of every stable were one or more fine stacks of well cured hay, some of the villagers having as much as fifty tons. We went into several of the stables and saw the cattle. All were in the very pink of condition, fit, indeed for the butcher. In every yard was a building used as a granary. Its construction was in every case as careful as that of the dwelling house, the walls having well built “footings” and being carefully plastered and neatly whitewashed. Built against the granary in almost every instance was a lean-to implement shed, well stocked with binders – a McCormick in every instance – harness, plows, mowers, rakes and every necessary agricultural implement. Out in the yard were to be seen wagons and sleighs. The hayracks were carefully put on platforms ready to be put on. About the whole village was an air of method, of care, of cleanliness and of order that would compare favorably with that of many a Canadian homestead. The care of their possessions was evidenced on every hand. Inside the implement sheds I found the binder canvasses carefully rolled away, and even the irons of their planes had been greased to protect them from rust!

Further Evidence of Prosperity

All the granaries had more or less grain in them. One man had 600 bushels of wheat, 1,100 bushels of barley and 400 bushels of oats. Another had 830 bushels of wheat and 600 bushels of oats and barley, and many others seemed to have almost, if not quite, equal amounts of grain, though I did not enquire the exact quantities in other than these two instances. Semen Chernoff, whose grain crop is the one last mentioned, told me many interesting facts through the interpreter. From him I gathered that the communal system is losing many of its adherents, and is rapidly being replaced by the rights of the Individual. He was a tall, ungainly fellow, black of eye and torrential of speech. Evidently he had become seized of the fact that an individual’s value to a community is in direct ratio to his ability as a worker. “My three sons,” said he, “worked on the section last summer. They worked hard for six months. They came home with $500. They put the money into the village treasury. Sherbinnen’s two sons went away with mine and came back with them. They worked on the same section. They put into the treasury only $180. Next summer my boys go on the section again, but they will not put their money into the treasury. Oh, no! They will buy cattle and plows with it for themselves. Is it right in the eyes of the good God that my boys should each turn in twice as much as has his?”

Volumes of political economy could not have stated the case of the individual as against the community with greater brevity or force. Nor was this the only instance that came under my observation during my stay of the loosening hold the Doukhobors have upon communistic theories. At first they would not agree to make entry for their homestead lands individually, but wanted the Interior Department to transfer the land en bloc, after the performance of the necessary duties by the community. This, of course, the Department refused to do, insisting on the carrying out of the departmental regulations in the matter of individual entry and individual performance of homestead duties. For more than a year the matter was debated between the government and the Doukhobors, but, as far as the Rosthern settlement is concerned, the matter is settled. The settlers have acceded in every particular to the regulations of the Department, and six months ago land was entered for individually by almost every male of required age in Terpennie. While I was there, I made out the necessary receipts for the $10.00 homestead fees for four men, the money being paid to the interpreter, as an official of the Department. As an indication of the rapidly increasing prosperity of the settlement, they are buying land in large quantities nearly every homesteader wanting to enlarge his holdings by purchase. Chernoff, Iwachin, Kusnizoff and Popoff all wanted me to make influence with the Interior Department, in order that they might select government land for purchase near them. At present the government refuses to sell any of this land, for the reason that the railway grants have not been selected by the companies. With the rapid influx of settlement into the Rosthern country, they fear that others may secure the lands when they are thrown open for sale, though, by right of longer residence and repeated applications to purchase, they feel they have a priority of claim.

Observance of Canadian Law

But the most significant sign of the increasing acceptance of Canadian usages and laws, is afforded by the Doukhobors’ changed attitude towards the marriage laws. Marriage is, with the Doukhobors, not a civil contract, but a religious sacrament, their belief in this regard being in practice what the Catholic belief is in theory. Their tenets in the matter of marriage have never been interfered with by the Russian government. The registration of marriage is there unknown, and, naturally, when they came to Canada, they continued to marry and be given in marriage without notifying the department of vital statistics, and having their unions registered. They hold that no man and woman should continue to live together as man and wife unless they love and reverence each other. For two who are incompatible in disposition to continue to live in the marriage relation they regard as a sin. Far better would it be for the unhappy couple to separate, and, if so disposed, each seek more congenial partners. Hence, when the Doukhobors first came to Canada, and their advent was made the theme of criticism by newspapers and politicians, who knew little of their customs and beliefs, and were only desirous of discrediting the government during whose administration they migrated, it was stated, and, till the truth was known, it was generally believed, that the Doukhobors were “free lovers,” and that their indiscriminate cohabitation was a disgrace to the land they selected for their homes. As a matter of fact, few people are more chaste.

Their belief as to marriage is the logical outcome of their religious system, but their history sows that they dissolution of the marriage tie is practically unknown. In the last fifty years, Iwachin told me, there had been but one instance, among all the thousands of Doukhobors, of separation between man and wife. Can any other community on earth point to such a record as this? And, moreover, the Rosthern Doukhobors, at least, have shown their willingness, in this as in every other matter, to obey in the spirit and letter the Canadian law. Every marriage solemnized in Terpennie since the beginning of 1901 has been registered, and every birth also. The Doukhobors realize that the Canadian laws are conceived in a spirit of equity, and designed for the protection of civil rights, and are rapidly modifying their practice in many matters so as to conform to the changed conditions of life in a country where laws are framed with a view to the stability and strength of the social fabric.

A Visit to the Communal Bathhouse

It is generally known that the Doukhobors are a scrupulously clean people. They have a communal bath house, which Iwachin took me to see. It was a clay-wattled building, similar in construction to every other in the village and was about twelve feet by twenty in size. Half the building was in the ground, the walls not being more than four feet above the level. The door was very small and low, and was approached by a rough stair case. In its interior the building was divided into a larger and smaller room by a transverse partition. The lesser compartment was the one nearer the entry, and was the furnace room. A big fire place, built of clay, occupied nearly the whole of it. This was surrounded by prairie boulders, or moraines, some of them nearly three feet in diameter.

When any of the community desire to bath, they take a load of wood to the bathhouse and make a huge fire. In an hour after the boulders are thoroughly heated. The bathers then go into the larger inner room and after disrobing, stretch themselves on the wooden benches by which it is surrounded. The fire is taken out, and then pails of water are thrown over the pile of stones. The whole building is at once filled with stream. The bathers remain in the stream chamber for an hour or more, then wash, with cold water, don their clothing, and the bath is finished. Iwachin told me the bathhouse was generally in use three or four times a week, men and women using it on alternate days.

It had been in use yesterday, the building being still warm. He offered to have it heated for me early the following morning, if I would stay overnight, and care to take a bath. He said he had had a bath after the Turkish fashion, with hot air instead of stream, but he greatly preferred the Russian method. So necessary do the Doukhobors consider frequent bathing, that they built the communal bathhouse before they even erected their own residences, living in tents, or under wagons, till it was completed.

A Doukhobor Wedding

We strolled back to the village street, noting on every hand the signs of thrift, industry, frugality and prosperity. By this time we numbered quite a large party, every villager to whom I was introduced deemed it his duty to accompany us, and assist in doing the honors of the place. Every villager we passed raised his hat or bowed with the same ceremonious courtesy that had marked Iwachin’s behavior. The children peeped curiously at the interpreter and myself from behind dark entries or around the edges of haystacks. At one house we found the people – that is, the women – in a state of great domestic bustle and excitement. Enquiry found that there was going to be a wedding that afternoon – that the bride was expected at any moment. The woman of the house became almost voluble as she narrated the circumstances to the interpreter. It was her boy who was to be married, and he and his father had driven over to the village of Hierolofka, and would return with the bride and her father. She gave us all a most cordial invitation to the marriage ceremony and the subsequent feast, all of the time sweeping away the snow from the front of the entry with a vigor that betokened her natural excitement. We assured her that we would certainly be present and then left her to conclude her preparations for the reception of the bridal party. She called us back, however, that we might look at the newly plastered and whitewashed tiny bedroom at the back of the entry, and pointed with pride to the new sheet iron stove, the home-made wooden bed – (there was no bed clothing – the bride would bring that) – the wooden pins on the wall, the gay McCormick calendar, and the other simple domestic necessities, needed by the bridal couple.

Then we went on, at Iwachin’s request, to see the first baby born and registered in Terpennie. It was a sturdy little fellow, just beginning to creep, and his delighted crowing at finding himself the cynosure of such a distinguished and numerous party – for we by this time numbered fully a score – showed that he realized to the full his temporary importance. His younger sister, an infant not two months old, was lying in the high ended and quaintly shaped oaken cradle, that was as substantially built as a line of battle ship. It was not on rockers, as is usual, in Canada, but was suspended from the ceiling by two thongs of hide, and swung instead of rocked. The mother was lifting the cloth from the baby’s face, to let us see it, when we heard a shout from outside, and knew that the bridal party had come. We caught a glimpse of a rapidly driven farm sleigh, and hastily making our adieu to the historic child, the sleeping infant, and the proud mother, we hurried up the street to the house we had recently left.

We found the whole village there on our arrival. The sleight had been driven into the cleanly swept courtyard, and the villagers were ranged round it in a semi-circle between it and the house. In the middle of the sleigh box was the great marriage chest, and on it, facing the tail-board, were the bride and groom, both bravely appareled, the girl especially being brilliant in red, green and purple. On the other edge of the chest, facing the horses, were two other girls, both prospective brides, though their grooms were not in evidence. Seated on the tailboard of the sleight was the bride’s father, and when we came up, he was in the middle of a long prayer, beseeching Heaven to bless the approaching union, to give to the young couple the blessing of fruitfulness, to grant his daughter the love of her husband, the affection of her husband’s parents, and the favor of the village. It was an impressive scene of the villagers in gala dress, with the wide-spreading valley beyond, the snowy plain, and the brilliant sunshine, all combining to make a picture that will dwell long in the memory.

When at length the father had completed his prayer he helped his daughter down from the big chest and out of the sleigh. He kissed her, and gave her hand to the groom, who likewise saluted the bride. Holding each other by the hand, the pair entered the house, the father and the rest of the wedding cortege following. At the door they were met by the father of the groom, who welcomed them with a brief speech, and many bows. Then the assembly, which up to the present had been decorously silent, broke into a hubbub of chatter. The bride was surrounded by the girls of the village, who examined her attire,
passing remarks on the embroidery and other adornments. The elder women bustling about in the preparation of the great marriage feast. The men chatted during the interval, on farm work, the prospects for the spring, and the approaching pilgrimage of the Rosthern merchants to the village, for the purpose of holding the annual sales of implements, etc. The groom seemed as at Canadian weddings, the least important individual in the gathering, and for a long time I looked about for him in vain. When at length he was pointed out to me, I was greatly surprised at his extreme youth. His father said he was 18; but he looked no more than 14. His face was boyish, almost childish, and his general bearing and behavior that of an undeveloped callow stripling. The bride, they told me, was also 18. She was half a head taller than her affianced, broad of hip and shoulder, and deep of chest. She carried herself, too, with a quiet dignity and gentleness that prepossessed us greatly.

I gathered that the principals had but little to do with the arrangement of marriage among the Doukhobors. The alliances are negotiated by the parents, though it is to be supposed that any existing attachments are given some consideration. But, owing to the extreme youth at which marriages are contracted, and the mental habit existing among the Doukhobor children of subordinating their individual judgment to that of their parents, it is but rarely that any complications are made by prior attachments.

The day was rapidly closing in, when the villagers gathered for the marriage song service. For an hour they would sing the psalms and hymns, and then would partake of the great wedding feast. The odor of vegetable soup filled the house, and the young men busied themselves arranging the borrowed tables so as to utilize to the utmost every available inch of room. The father of the groom pressed me to remain to the festival. They would sing, he said, for an hour, and then partake of the wedding meal and then would come the conclusion of the religious ceremony, when he, the father of the groom, would beseech the Almighty’s blessing on the youthful pair, after which the bride’s relatives would rive back home. But the interpreter explained that we had a long way to drive ourselves through a country that was but sparsely settled, and little traveled, and moreover, there was the difficult crossing of the Saskatchewan valley to be made. So, though reluctantly, we had to send for our team. While we were waiting for them the good wife served us scalding tea, in tumblers, and we ate more of the soggy black bread, being entertained, while eating, by the signing – for the musical portion of the service had commenced.

Ewashen family, c. 1902. (l-r) John, Jacob Jr., Jacob Sr. John Kooznetsoff, Anastasia (nee Kooznetsoff), Mary.

Facts as to Progress

In the intervals between the various songs, Iwachin gave us a few general facts as to the progress and present position of the Rosthern settlement of Doukhobours. In Terpennie – the village we were visiting – there were between 100 and 170 inhabitants – forty-seven families in all. Between them they had twenty horses, a hundred and thirty cattle, and forty sheep. In the village of Hierolofka, ten miles away, there were five hundred cattle and a hundred horses. Last fall the Terpennie people had plowed with nine ox or horse teams, in three weeks 325 acres of land, an, with the amount of breaking done, they would have this year a thousand acres under cultivation. Their principal crop would be wheat, but much barley and flax would be grown. Last year the crops were good, he said, but they had sold none of the grain yet. The present price was too low. They would wait, he said, until they got a railroad, and then they could get a better price for their grain. They did not know when they would get the road built, but they believed Mr. Sifton would see that they had proper shipping facilities. They had ten grist mills, operated by water power at Terpennie and Hierolofka. To get the necessary water supply, the Terpennie people had built a canal two miles long – all of it by the spade, and all of it done by the women of the village while the men were working in the fields or on the railroad. It was completed last fall, and would be in operation this spring. The stones used were those formerly in the old Hudson’s Bay fort at Prince Albert, and were teamed nearly a hundred miles. The flour, is, of course, ground “forthright,” and would make the same dark bread in general use among the Doukhobors.

The residents of Terpennie have 47 homesteads. This year the Hierolofka people will have 4,000 acres cropped. As an instance of the extensive nature of their farming operations, they purchased last year forty binders, seventy mowers, and a hundred and twenty plows. Nearly all this was bought on credit, and no better comment on their commercial reliability need be adduced than the fact that, on Jan. 1 of this year, though hardly a bushel of grain had been sold, less than fifteen per cent was unpaid, and this is regarded as being good as the bank. They make use of everything – like Autolycus, they are “snappers up of unconsidered trifles,” picking up nails, old horseshoes, or such things, and carrying them home and putting them to use. They buy only absolute necessities, having learned in the hard school of Muscovite tyranny that economy is wealth. At the towns in which they deal, the merchants are anxious that more of the same class of settlers should come into the country. They say that much opposition was at first manifested at the Doukhobor immigration, but that those who know them best have nothing but praise for them, either as farmers or citizens. In a very few years the Doukhobors will be in an enviable financial position – in fact wealthy. They are peaceable, law-abiding, industrious and thrifty, are anxious to learn English speech and desirous of following Canadian customs.

Good-Bye to Terpennie

While Iwachin and the interpreter had been telling me these facts, I had been munching morsels of the black bread, and sipping the scalding uncreamed tea, and, in the pauses of the conversation, listening to the weird minor music of the wedding, and watching the preparations for the feast that would follow. The room was strong with the odor of vegetable soup, and the air hot and oppressive from the crowding of so many people in such a small space. I was not sorry, therefore, when it was announced that the team was ready. There was much handshaking and bowing and removing of caps as we left the room. The boyish bridegroom was pushed forward by his mother to make his adieux, and his dignified, emotionless bride curtsied in stateliest fashion as we went through the door. Iwachin and Chernoff and a few of the village lads came out to see us off, and nearly all the rest continued at the song service, and the drone of their monotonous chant was the last thing we heard of Terpennie.

We bundled ourselves up comfortably in our furs, and left with many courteous wishes from our hosts for a safe journey, and continued health and long life, and general prosperity, and all other desirable blessings. In a few minutes Terpennie was a low black blot silhouetted against the burning western sky. Down the easy grade we wound into the valley of the Saskatchewan, and in the purple gloaming of the winter dusk, crossed the river, and safely climbed the precipitous bank beyond. It was quite dark when we reached the eastern level. For a while we journeyed quietly, each absorbed in the memory of all that we had that day seen and learned of these God-fearing, tenacious, industrious people. And the interpreter voiced my own unspoken thought when he exclaimed: “Well, they were good Russians, and they’ll make good Canadians.”   J.R.

Special thanks to Corinne Postnikoff of Castlegar, British Columbia for her assistance with the data input of this article.

Doukhobors in the Boundary

by Vera Novokshonoff, Lucy Reibin & Marion Obedkoff

Woven into the fabric that is Grand Forks are many different nationalities, and, with their personalities, their skills and their culture, they have enhanced “the Boundary” and given to this city a character all its own. Of all these nationalities, the Doukhobors, by their very numbers and distinctive culture have had a more profound effect on the character and life of the community than any other group. The following article by Vera Novokshonoff (Kanigan), Lucy Reibin (Plotnikoff) and Marion Obedkoff (Grummett) outlines the history and settlement of the Doukhobors at Grand Forks in the Boundary region of British Columbia. Reproduced by permission from Boundary Historical Society, Report Nos. 3 and 4, 1964.

Historical Background

The Doukhobors comprise a large percentage of the population in the Boundary District. A religious sect of Russian origin, their history dates back some 300 years. Encyclopedia Britannica has this to say of their religious background:

“The name Doukhobor was given by the Russian Orthodox clergy to a community of non-conformist peasants. The word signifies “spirit-fighters” and was intended by the priesthood to convey that they fight against the Spirit of God, but the Doukhobors themselves accepted it as signifying that they fight, not against, but for and with the Spirit. The foundation of the Doukhobors’ teaching consists in the belief that the Spirit of God is present in the soul of man, and directs him by its word within him. They understand the coming of Christ in the flesh, His works, teaching and sufferings, in a spiritual sense. The whole teaching of the Doukhobors’ is penetrated with the Gospel spirit of love; worshipping God in the spirit, they affirm that the outward Church and all that is performed in it and concerns it has no importance for them; the Church is where two or three are gathered gather, i.e. united in the name of Christ.”

“They hold all people equal and brethren. Obedience to Government authorities they do not consider binding upon them in those cases when the demands of the authorities are in conflict with their conscience; while in all that not infringe what they regard as the will of God they willingly fulfill. They consider killing, violence and in general all relations to living beings not based on love as opposed to their conscience and to the will of God. They are industrious and abstemious in their lives, and living up to the standard of their faith present one of the nearest approaches to the realization of the Christian ideal which has been attained. In many ways they have a close resemblance to the Quakers.”

Their renunciation of rituals of the Russian Orthodox Church, as worshipping man-made images or ikons brought upon them persecution by Church and state in Tsarist Russia. This was intensified by their refusal of military service. Influential humanitarians, particularly the famous writer Tolstoy and the Society of Friends in England interceded in their behalf, and arrangements were finally made and some 7500 Doukhobor immigrants came to Canada in 1899, settling in Saskatchewan and Manitoba.

Group of Doukhobor immigrants aboard the SS Lake Superior, 1899. British Columbia Archives E-07233.

Subsequently, a majority of them refused to comply with the swearing of the oath of allegiance under the Homestead Act, and lost their lands which they had worked on. These were taken away from them. They then decided to move to move to British Columbia, where by purchasing land, instead of accepting grants, they avoided the necessity of swearing to swear the oath of allegiance. They settled predominantly in the West Kootenay and Boundary Districts.

Arrival in Grand Forks

Land was purchased in 1909 by their leader Peter Lordly Verigin. John Sherbinin, Sr., who in later years established Boundary Sawmills Ltd., was his interpreter at the time. John Sherbinin learned the English language in Swan River, Manitoba where he worked in a store the year these people came into Canada. Another associate during the purchasing was Nick S. Zeboroff.

The purchases consisted of the Coryell Ranch (the site of the Brick Yard) from the Coryell family; Murray Creek (presently Outlook) which was open range; the Vaughan Ranch (at the foot of Spencer Hill) from the Vaughans; 4th of July Creek (Spencer) from Hoffman; and the Collins place from H. W. Collins. This involved a total of 4,182 acres.

In March 1909, 12 men came over to Grand Forks by train, with two women accompanying to cook for them. These people amongst the Doukhobors were known as postniki, ones who wished to be abstemious to the point of not eating butter to eliminate the necessity of keeping cows, which would lead to having to sell calves for butchering.

The first group managed to house themselves in rough dwellings that were on the property. Until the warm weather opened up, they were occupied cleaning things up on the place. Another group of 14 came in April.

Industries

They put up a small sawmill just below the site of the present Doukhobor cemetery, and started to produce rough lumber (there was no planer) for the construction of their communal dwellings. Later, when a factory was established a brick siding was put on these buildings.

Logs were cut in the vicinity and were brought to the mill on horse-drawn dollies. In the winter sleighs replaced the dollies. Soon as the supply of logs was exhausted on the place, the sawmill would be moved to another suitable location. William Fofonoff was the sawyer; Alex A. Wishloff, the engineer and Philip P. Stoochnoff, the fireman.

Orchards

The same year, spring of 1909, they planted fruit trees – apples, pears, Italian prunes, cherries, and other plants, such as currants, gooseberries, raspberries, etc. George C. Zebroff and Andrew J. Gritchen were in charge of the orchards. The wives and families of the men-folk came over in the summer of 1909, to join in the communal effort.

Brick Plant

Production of bricks began the same year (1909) beside the clay pit where the Coryells had run a small plant. The same crude machinery was used. Horses supplied the power to turn the clay mixer. Bricks one at a time, were taken by hand and put in rows to dry, which took two weeks. They were put in a pile leaving air space between each brick, old bricks piled around them and covered with clay so there would be no air space. A big fire was built on both sides to burn until the bricks got red hot. Air was let in from the top to make the fire burn stronger. This went on for about a month and had to be under constant watch to make sure the fire did not get too hot for the bricks to melt, nor too cold for them to turn black. After this process, the bricks were put under a roof for further drying.

Doukhobor community brick factory at Grand Forks, BC, circa 1920. British Columbia Archives C-01714.

As early as 1910, the workers produced 22 to 24 thousand bricks a day. Even at that slow pace, 2 million bricks were produced during the summer. William Razinkin was the original man in charge. Later on, Mike Demoskoff and John Gritchen were prominent in the making of bricks. In time, machinery replaced horse-power, and the operation was put on a more efficient and productive basis. Bricks from the plant were widely sold. Their good quality established a wide and well known reputation.

Flour Mill

The Flour Mill was put up in 1910, with two men handling its operation. Wheat, grown in the valley, was brought to the mill and milled by grinding on a large stone without refining or discarding anything in the process. Bread made of this flour was dark, but very healthy. William Fofonoff (the original sawyer) was the miller, later replaced by his brother Peter. In 1917-18 production of linseed oil was started at the flour mill. This became a favourite product with the Doukhobor people. They were and still are particularly fond of using it with sauerkraut.

Development

The work of the first settlers that came in 1909-10 was to prepare living quarters and other primary facilities for those that were to follow. The lumber produced by the first sawmill was used in building communal dwellings, the first of which was built in 1910 near the site of the Flour Mill just below the present Doukhobor cemetery at Sion, formerly known as Fruktova.

Also in 1909, work was started on building an irrigation pipeline. A trench 2 to 3 feet deep was dug from First of July Creek to Sion following a line above the roadbed of the Great Northern Railway, and pipes were laid extending for about 2 miles to bring water to the newly planted orchards and gardens. A few years later when the Great Northern dismantled the railway track, the pipes were relocated to follow the road bed and enlarged to 6 inches in diameter to carry more water. Later another pipeline was built to supply homes with drinking water, taken from a creek running halfway up the mountain at Sion. Water was also piped at the Outlook settlement for drinking as well as for irrigation purposes.

In 1911-12 there followed more Doukhobor settlers with their families, so that by 1913 there were approximately 1000 souls living in the vicinity of Grand Forks.

With more people, the work of development progressed more rapidly. In those years there were built approximately 24 large communal dwellings by the newcomers. At the same time, the planted trees started to bear fruit, so that besides supplying the local needs, fruit was also shipped to other markets. A fruit packing plant was built in 1920. In those years a total of 120 to 130 carloads of fruit – apples, pears, prunes, etc. were shipped annually to outside markets, as well as some berries such as strawberries, black currants, raspberries, etc.

Doukhobor community blacksmith, Grand Forks, BC, circa 1920. British Columbia Archives C-01735.

The lumbering industry also expanded, sawmill operations were extended, tracts of timber stands taken and worked, so that about half of the men were employed in the lumbering industry. At that time most of the heavy work such as plowing and cultivating the land was done by horses, for which purpose every communal village had a team of excellent work horses, hay and feed for which were grown on communal lands.

Altogether the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood Ltd., to which the first Doukhobor settlers belonged, notwithstanding the fact that they lost their lands in Saskatchewan and had to go heavily into debt to buy land and other necessities, by dint of hard work and frugal living had built a thriving economy in the first two score years of life in Grand Forks, which continued to grow and increase in value.

It was still growing when in 1935 a canning factory was built to process tomatoes and other small fruits such as strawberries and raspberries. Unfortunately, this factory was burned down in the same year. Then came years of economic depression, starting in 1929 and continuing for a decade which had a serious effect on the economy and which was one of the reasons that brought the foreclosure on the mortgages held by financial companies, The Sun Life Assurance Co. and The National Trust Co. and the subsequent buying of the land by the Government of British Columbia to prevent mass evictions.

We deem it proper to return back and look on some other facets of Doukhobor life.

Communal Way of Life

At the head was the central administration under the leadership of Peter Lordly Verigin. The people were split up into villages represented by the large apartment-like houses, where from about 35 to 40 members resided. Each village operated separately, with particular tasks assigned to its members. Where necessary, the men were sent out to earn money outside the community, while the rest including the older folk, women and children had to do the work at home. In charge of each village was an appointed “Elder.” All the members contributed to the community according to their capacity, and were doled out equal portions according to their needs. In other words, you put into the community what you earned or produced, and received in equal measure with the rest of the members, what you required. Concentration was on a pure and simple life, without luxuries.

A policy of austerity was in effect both for spiritual and economic reasons. During the wartime in 1914, children were not fed any bread and ate a thick noodle soup instead. The rest of the folk were on a frugal diet of mamalyha made of beans, peas and wheat cooked together. At the time the Community had food in abundance, but it was not indulged in out of compassion for the suffering by the rest of the world.

Housing

A regular .pattern persisted in the building of homes. The main floor of the two storey brick houses contained the large communal kitchen and social centre or living room; the bedrooms were upstairs. In the kitchen, a long table or two stood alongside the windows with a special table for the children. The stove was in about the centre of the room, and there would also be a brick Dutch oven. The living room was used for occasions like a marriage, prayer meetings, singing group, a funeral or for visitors. Adjacent to the large brick house, there was a U-shaped unit of one floor rooms. These provided room for the older folk to sleep in, as well as washing and storage facilities.

Doukhobor community home, Grand Forks, BC. British Columbia Archives C-01729.

Meals

For each large communal house, two women, interchanging weekly had to do the cooking, and the baking of the large round loaves of bread in the Dutch oven. Children ate at a separate table from the adults. Four persons ate out of the same bowl using wooden spoons. This may sound unsanitary, but the fact remains that in those years there were few illnesses among the people and they were very healthy.

After everyone sat down at the table, a hymn would be sung. After saying grace, everyone would eat quietly, without making a racket with the utensils or idle chatter.

The most well-known Doukhobor dish is borshch – a type of vegetable soup. Other dishes were rice soup; cereal made from wheat; cooked halooshki, (dumplings in soup); blintsi (a sort of pancake); vinigret (a salad of beets, apples, beans, dilled cucumbers and sauerkraut); kvas (grated cucumbers and green onions thinned with water); vegetables and fruit. Tomatoes and cucumbers (as well as cabbage for sauerkraut) were salted in big crocks for winter use. Bread was dried, (like crumpets) for eating with rice soup. The main beverage was a fruit juice made from dried apples, prunes and other fruit.

Prayer Meetings

Prayer meetings in the early years were held early in the morning (before breakfast) on Sundays, as well as on some other days. It was the custom then to attend prayer meetings attired in homemade linen clothes, and in the summer months barefoot. Persons entering the meeting greeted the congregation with the words: “Glory to God!” To which those gathered replied: “We glorify and thank God for His grace!” At the meeting the women stood on the right side and the men on the left; in the center between them stood a table on which bread, salt and water was placed. Each person recited a psalm standing before the table. After recitations three psalms were sung and the Lord’s Prayer was said, the end of which all present bowed touching the ground, and said that they bow to God, His Son, Christ and the Holy Ghost. There followed the singing of hymns and discussion on any important matter that happened to come up.

In later years with the coming of Peter P. Chistiakov Verigin, the form of the prayer meeting reverted back to that practiced by Doukhobors in Russia in times past, as follows: On entering the meeting hall, a person greeted those present with the words “Glorious God is praised”, and the congregation answered: “Great is the name of the Lord and His glory is throughout the world.” Some of the men, women as well as children recited psalms, after which the congregation sang psalms at which time the second man in the first row came up to the first man, they clasped each other’s hand and bowed to each other two times, then kissed each other and bowed once more, then the second man turned and bowed to the women and they bowed in reply. After a number of men performed this ritual, which denoted their reverence for the spirit of the divine life that is part of man, their forgiveness and love for each other, the women performed the same ritual of reverent bowing. This being accomplished, a man stepped out near the table and recited the Lord’s Prayer, at the conclusion of which he said: “Here we kneel in reverence to Father, Son and the Holy Ghost,” and the congregation bowed to the ground. The reciter then said: “Christ has arisen,” and the congregation answered: “In Truth He has arisen.” The second time they bowed to the ground they said: “Eternal memory to Witnesses of Truth.” The third time they bowed saying: “God grant the living good health, forgive us and strengthen us in Your ways.” After this a few hymns were sung and time was devoted to discussions on matters of social and spiritual significance.

Weddings

When a young couple decided to get married, the boy, along with his parents, went to the girl’s house to ask her parents for the hand of their daughter.

In the ceremony that followed, everyone read prayers and then someone would read the Lord’s Prayer. The parents gave the couple their blessing and wished them luck. Then the couple kissed both his and her parents and bowed to their feet.

Doukhobor women haying on community land, Grand Forks, BC, circa 1920. British Columbia Archives C-01721.

The wedding took place two or three days later, for there were no engagement parties or rings given. The bride gathered her belongings together with the bedding and tied them up in a bundle (there were no hope chests at that time).

On the wedding day, the groom, along with his parents, went on a horse and buggy after the bride and her parents. When they arrived at the groom’s place, everyone exchanged greetings and wished the couple luck. Only the 30 to 40 members who lived in the big house, where the lived, attended the wedding. The food served was the same as a Sunday dinner. There was borshchplove, and atvar (a beverage made out of fruit). The clothes which the bride and groom wore were their best Sunday clothes.

Funerals

The dead were not taken to a mortician but were bathed and dressed at home. The coffin was also made at home. People came during the daytime as well as in the evening to share the grief with the mourning family. Prayers and psalms were sung in honour of the dead person. There were no dinner lunches served as there are now.

The dead were buried two and a half days after they died. On the next day the family and close relatives went to the grave to pay their respects to the dead. They sang hymns and other songs.

After a period of six weeks, the friends and relatives gathered once more at the grave in memory of the dead person. Once again they read prayers sang hymns. This ritual was repeated after a year was up.

Education

No special outfits were worn by the children when they went to school. Both boys and girls up to twelve years of age wore a dress-like garment. They wore no shoes and had nothing on their heads. The school age was limited to the age of 12 years, so very few children went to school; mostly boys.

Each district had a school to which the children had to walk. During the winter months, the children were taken on sledges pulled by horses.

The children were taught reading, writing, grammar and some arithmetic. They only went as far as grade five or six. Due to the fact that the children were always speaking Russian, and often had to stay away from school in order to help at home, their progress in English school was quite slow.

One of the first schools called “Carson School” was built close to where the Hill View Store is presently located. Later there was a school built at Fruktova.

At home the children were taught to read and write in Russian.

Skills and Crafts: The Process of Making Linen Cloth from Flax

The flax seeds were planted very closely together, in the Spring time. When the seeds were ripe, the whole plant was pulled out and tied into bundles. These bundles were set upright, in the sunny fields, so that they would dry thoroughly. Wooden clubs were used to thresh the flax so that all the seeds fell out.

Doukhobor children in flax field, Grand Forks, BC, circa 1920. British Columbia Archives C-01745.

The stocks were then soaked in water for about two weeks. When the stocks were saturated with water, they were put into bundles and once again dried in the sun. Then, the stocks were put into a block of wood (that had been hollowed out), and were threshed by a large wooden hammer to soften the cellulose. They were then put through home-made combs dividing the stock into thin fibres (by now, all the waste materials had fallen off). The thin fibres were put through a spinning wheel and put tightly on a wooden roll. After the yarn was taken off the wooden roll, it was put into a solution of hot water and flax seed in order to make the yarn slippery. It was wrung, pounded and hung out to dry. When it was dry, the yarns were separated and put on a home-made machine for weaving. There were about 30 yards in one weaving. The cloth was then ready for bleaching.

White ash (taken from burnt weeds and sunflower stems) was gathered and put into boiling water. After this solution stood for a while, it was strained through a canvas sheet. The cloth was placed in that solution and stayed there for two days. A thorough washing was given to the cloth after it was taken out of the solution; and it was placed in the sun to dry. When the cloth had dried, it was placed on a wooden roller used for ironing, and pounded with a flat stick which resembled a scrub board. Then the cloth was ready to be used for sewing.

After the sheep had been sheared, the wool was washed, dried and combed with home-made combs. It was then spun into a yarn on a spinning wheel. The yarn was placed in a paste made out of hot water and flour. After the yarn was dried, it was put on a home-made weaving machine. The cloth was washed with soap and water in a process of preshrinking. It could be dyed with different colours. The woolen yarn was also used to knit stockings, mittens and sweaters.

Other Skills and Handicrafts

The women busied themselves with other handicrafts such as embroidering, and crocheting various pieces. The men carved wooden spoons, salt and pepper shakers and various pieces of furniture. They also made spinning wheels as well as different of machines for weaving cloth. Harnesses were made out of leather, which was bought in bulk. There were shoemakers who made fine quality shoe of leather.

Conclusion

It seems proper to note that in October of 1924 the Doukhobor Community was bereaved by the tragic loss of Peter Lordly Verigin, who was killed in a deliberately set explosion of a passenger car in a C.P.R. train while on his way from Brilliant to Grand Forks. The explosion occurred just after the train left the station at Farron, B.C. He was an outstanding personality and gave leadership in the spiritual as well as the economic life of the Community, which deeply felt the loss of their revered leader. His place as the leader of the Doukhobors was taken by his son, Peter P. Chistiakov Verigin, who came to Canada in October, 1927 and who died in February, 1939.

Doukhobor farm near Grand Forks, BC, circa 1930. British Columbia Archives C-02659.

After it became evident that the lands and property of the Christian Community of Universal Brotherhood would be foreclosed by the companies holding mortgages, he re-organized the Community under the new name of the Union of Spiritual Communities of Christ, to which belong most of the Doukhobors living at present in Grand Forks. The name of Peter Petrovich Chistiakov Verigin is still revered by his followers.

The members of the Union of Spiritual Communities of Christ, while living on an individual basis are still favour of establishing a communal or co-operative way of life. At the present time, they have in Grand Forks a large cooperative store and a service garage under the name of Sunshine Valley Co-op Society.

This brings to a close this short summary of the history of the Doukhobor people in the Grand Forks and Boundary area.

View Grand Forks, British Columbia Doukhobor Villages, 1909-1939 in a larger map