In Pursuit of Religious Freedom: Bishop Martin Stephan's Journey

by Stephan, Philip

  Julia wrote personal news of issues affecting her and her daughters, mostly about how they were getting along. She told him of going to familiar places they had visited in the past, particularly the Blasewitz Estate where they rented a room and used the garden and gazebo. Then she detailed her financial situation. Her pension based on Stephan’s earnings, which her husband had applied for before he left, was granted at 200 Thaler a month, although Stephan had asked and calculated he was eligible for 500 Thaler. Julia had also taken in boarders, and that money helped her financial situation. She was allowed to stay in the parsonage where she and Pastor Stephan had lived all their married life. The housing decision by the Ministry of Education and Culture was a great financial help to Julia, and she was elated by their grant of parsonage housing and pension.3

  Julia concluded by mentioning friends who were happy to hear from him, and she asked him to greet the Buengers. In an aside, she noted that her son should not be surprised by the trickery of Dr. Schnabel, a close friend of the family who was paying a financial debt to her. She reminded him that she was treated badly by Schnabel and his unruly and thievish boys. (It was Dr. Schnabel’s boy who stole a watch and was whipped aboard the Olbers, and Dr. Schnabel who demanded payment for services and sued to have his fares returned.)

  Two days later on July 20, 1839, she added to her letter begun two days earlier. She told him she was taking in another boarder and that she would then have a total combined income of 800 Thaler per year, or about US$1,200. It helped greatly to have free housing. She signed the letter, “Your faithful and loving Mother.” In a margin she jotted that the day was July 23: “[T]oday is your birthday, my precious Martin. I cannot tell you what I am feeling today.”

  She dated another note August 9, 1839, and attached it to the July 18 and 20 letters that she had not yet mailed. She told her son that she had just found out about the deposition of her husband as bishop. The relevant paragraphs tell how she heard the news and how it affected her.

  I had finished writing this letter, my good Martin, but I had not sent it because I became anxious when I heard all kinds of rumors. I really didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know where to send the letter, didn’t know your fate, where you might be. Perhaps you ended up in a place of misery with you unlucky father. For a long time we considered all of the terrible news merely fabricated fables. But now, we need no further proof to establish the truth, because I was allowed to read letters about this matter written by those who were blinded at one time. Therefore, I am going to address this letter to Mr. Hellwig and hope that you get it from him. I also take the liberty to enclose a separate letter to Mr. Hellwig.

  My precious son, if you would like to return to your home country and to your mourning and badly wronged mother, perhaps someone who has the means could pay for your travel cost. I would reimburse every penny from my modest means.... I hesitate to send money because of all of the uncertainties and because I have no assurance that the money would actually get to you.

  I also wish you could take my maiden name, if God gives us grace and allows you to return to me. But I don’t want to pressure you to come back, my dear son, if you like America, however much, I would like to see you here. Take to heart my dear good son, what I ask of you; I will support you with my prayers.4

  The letter is written in German longhand; apparently one page is missing. A complete break in thought ends page three as quoted above, and the following page is marked “page four” by someone other than Julia. This last page begins saying that she hoped God would help Pastor Stephan recognize his sins and would lead him to repentance. The missing page evidently related her knowledge of the news from Perry County about her husband’s deposition and the charges of adultery and embezzlement.

  She mentioned people she knew and asked her son to greet them for her. She also cautioned her son not to wear his father’s underwear, as he has been sick! Her letter concluded with questions about silver items like a silver cup, probably the chalice that had been given to Pastor Stephan. She wondered if he had to sell them to buy food. She was anxious about the family library and wondered if he had managed to rescue the books in his father’s library. Again, she inquired where her son was living and who supported him. Julia pleaded with him to write her as soon as possible. It is easy to suppose that all of Julia’s questions in the letter of 1839 were answered by Martin. However, there is no written record of what happened in the next couple years to Julia or her son.

  Julia died in June 23, 1844, but not before her wish to see her son once more was answered. Martin Jr. returned to Dresden on his father’s sixty-fourth birthday, August 13, 1841. He was eighteen. She was overjoyed to have him come home, and no doubt he joined her living in the parsonage helping her care for his sisters while he attended the University of Dresden. Her death was recorded in the church register of St. John’s. It is now kept in the Kreuzkirche Archives in Dresden where records were centralized to survive the bombing of Dresden near the close of WWII. The official cause of death was fatigue. Since she had complained of chest pains, it is probable that she died of heart failure.

  No doubt her last years were as difficult as her younger years. She labored and planned and gathered the needed money from pensions, investments, and renters also using the money that Martin had left her. Whether she had help from her family no one knows. The Knoebels were a family of means, and surely they would have helped her were they able. Her brother Carl, a strong influence in her son’s life before son Martin set out for America, most certainly would have helped support his sister.

  Julia was only fifty-six years old when she died, but she had borne many children and seen sad times. Her last three years were graced by her son’s presence in her home. When Julia died, of her twelve children she left seven living daughters and one son. Celestine (thirty), Anna, (twenty-two), and Friederike (sixteen) were in the Deaf Institute. Martin (twenty-one) was studying to be an architect. That left Adelheid (twenty-eight), Marie (twenty-six), and Margaretha (eighteen) still under her immediate care. Concordia (twenty-four) was in London at the time of her mother’s death. Every one of her children except Concordia was present in Dresden for her funeral. It is not known if she died suddenly. Shortly after Julia’s death, Friederike—known by the endearing name of “Fritzchen”—was confirmed, in spite of her speech and hearing impairment, in St. Anne’s Church on July 18,1844, the home church of her Knoebel grandparent.

  In her will, which was filed with the municipal court, Julia left to her daughters those “nice things” of her home like silverware and fine linens. Her will also made provision for the financial care of the children in the Deaf Institute. She willed the equal distribution of her estate’s balance among the other children, including cash for their education and livelihood. Two were still underage at the time of her death.

  Although Julia’s life was difficult, it was not all pain and suffering. She had a strong spiritual life. Her faith in God was enormous and guided her actions. She had great joy in her children. She deeply loved and encouraged her son Martin. Both of Martin’s parents were a powerful influence on his life and on the faith that finally led him into the ministry.

  And so, while the Society members wrestled with their identity and Stephan’s family struggled with the pain of the bishop’s deposition, the now ex-bishop faced his own emotional and survival issues.

  NOTES

  1 Martin Stephan Jr., “Acta Judicalia,” trans. John Conrads (unpublished ms., Stephan Family Archives, photographic slide rendering of original ms.), entry for February 14, 1844.

  2 Julia Stephan to Martin Stephan Jr., 18 July–13 August 1839. Stephan Family Archives. Hellwig was a teacher in St. John’s school and piano instructor to the Stephan children.

  3 Julia Stephan to Martin Stephan Jr., 18 July 1839.

  4 Julia Stephan to Martin Stephan Jr., 13 August 1839.

  28

  Stephan in Exile

  Once the tree trunks, logs, and debris from the spring runoff thinn
ed out on the river, it was safer to escort Stephan across the Mississippi. The ex-bishop had spent the night in a tent by the river. After sleeping on the cool, damp ground, he felt a cold coming on. The scene that morning at the riverside was captured by Attorney Vehse, who escorted Stephan to be ferried in a rowboat. Six months later, Vehse wrote about Martin’s cruel treatment by the Society:

  In the morning we found him with his Bible open before him. The ferry was ready at half-past ten o’clock—his only request was that “the people might withdraw so that he would not meet anyone.” I shall never forget his deeply moved expression as I brought him to the ferry. He left with obvious worry on his face, with stooped posture, a cap on his gray head, supporting himself by his right hand on a walking stick, carrying another under his left arm, continually complaining of having been unjustly dealt with, toward the Mississippi—to occupy a room rented for him on an isolated farm on the Illinois shore beyond a rock formation that because of its form is called the Devil’s Bake Oven! I cannot deny that this parting roused painful, uncontrollable feelings in me as I recalled all the good, besides much that was bad, for which I am indebted to him.1

  Accompanying Stephan on the boat were several members of the congregation and armed guards. They dropped him off on the eastern shore of the Mississippi near Kaskaskia, Illinois.2 The armed guards unloaded the meager belongings they thought he might need for survival, including a shovel and an ax. They figured he could work for his food. The rest of his belongings they kept back at Wittenberg. They “let” him have some of his clothes—not the nice white shirts or his favorite coat—but they allowed him some thin bedding, two beds, two chairs, and $100.

  Someone wrote a list of Martin’s belongings. The handwriting matched the penmanship of Vehse’s handwritten book manuscript. Stephan was forced to sign this list relinquishing all his belongings, except for the above items; in order to forcibly “repay” $1,802.87 the community decided Stephan owed them for his “extravagant” clerical expenses. In spite of the fact they had not paid his salary, they tallied only debts. However, on the blank side of the ledger were the promises to pay Stephan’s salary from the time he left Dresden. There was never a balance sheet to show the debts incurred by the Society for the bishop’s salary and expenses.

  The men who took Stephan across the river conducted him to a farmhouse where they had “rented a room,” actually an old log cabin on a farm. It had no heat in the winter, but for now in late spring it would keep him dry and provide a roof over his head. It was not unlike the one he had left on the river at Wittenberg, Missouri. The last several days took their toll on Stephan’s health. He was suffering again from a bad case of eczema. He leaned a little more heavily on his cane than before, and some of that weight was the injustice he felt from his own congregation.

  But from his teen years Martin Stephan had always managed to survive. This crisis was a matter of life and death, but to him it paled in comparison to what he just experienced with his former colleagues, friends, and church members. He was alone, without food or warm clothing, with very little money. As an oldest child he had always found a way to live, often from hand to mouth. Now at sixty-two he was determined to survive again, motivated in part by his need to right an injustice. At the same time he recognized his energy was ebbing, and he was not as confident that he would be able to pay his own way by manual labor. His health was poor, his physical strength not that of a young man or even enough to help much with the farming chores for his new landlord. Although it was summer, he was deeply weary and he walked to the boat like a broken man.

  The money he had saved for retirement and the money for bringing his family to America was taken from him. He could let the land go, but the money—how could he live without some money? As a sixteen-year-old on the run living in the streets in Germany, at least he survived by his weaving craft in highly civilized countries. Here in America he was out in the wilderness, on his own, without means or friends.

  The next morning he awoke at daylight; his chest was tight enough to make him cough. He was so susceptible to these colds, and always had been. He knew he must be careful, eat right, and take some cough remedy because his lungs had been compromised for some time. Even if he’d had money, he wouldn’t know where to find the nearest apothecary. Maybe if he just slept a little longer the cold would subside. But he could not shake the cough. He slept fitfully through the next several days. The farmer’s wife urged her husband to look in on him. Since they spoke English and he only German, the conversation was limited and labored. They brought him some broth and some bread. He later would pay them or work for his food.

  After sixteen days of being in and out of bed, he struggled to keep his part of the bargain and managed to put in a few hours of work helping the farmer. On that afternoon, a steamboat ferry landed at the dock in Kaskaskia. Not long after the boat arrived, there was a knock on his cabin door. When he went to see who it was, he discovered Louise Guenther, his personal assistant and onetime nurse. Greatly surprised, he was glad to see her. He needed someone to care for him. By now he was running a fever and could not shake the burning sensation in his lungs. This was the start of what he described as a year-and-a-half long battle with pneumonia.

  When Louise discovered how poor Martin’s health was, she immediately decided to stay with him and help him recover. Anyway, she thought, that crowd in Missouri was in an angry and nasty mood. Although no one directly threatened her, she feared for her life, especially seeing how the crowd treated Stephan because of her intimate relationship with him. After the intense and threatening interrogation by Marbach, she decided it necessary to leave that community quickly and secretly, even though it meant leaving her mother, father, and siblings behind. The bond she felt compelled her to go to Martin and help him in his time of humiliation and deprivation.

  Now finding him ill, she knew she had the strength he lacked to do what it took to stay healthy. She was young, only half his age, and previously nursed him back to health from a blistering case of eczema. Little did she know that Stephan’s persistent pneumonia would get worse. For the next year and some months, by Stephan’s own report, Louise managed to help him recover. Stephan would later write that she saved his life. How ironic that the person whose confession had exploded into his ouster was also the woman who helped him get well.

  During Stephan’s illness he further endangered his life by returning to Perry County—this in spite of the promise he made that he would never return, documented in the renunciation of claims they forced him to sign right after the deposition. He did return to the community, presumably at the Ferry Landing at Wittenberg, and made an appeal for help: food, medicine, and pastoral care. The pastors and society members responded with cold refusal. Finally, Pastor Loeber felt sorry for him and went to Kaskaskia to give Stephan Holy Communion as he requested. However, Stephan reported that he was badgered to sign a confession of his wrongs when Loeber came to “minister” to him. Stephan refused to sign. This visit by Loeber was certainly not a normal “pastoral visit.”

  Martin Stephan had no other visitors, not even his son. No doubt he yearned to see his son who was still living in the area. It is not clear exactly where Martin Jr. was, possibly attending the Concordia College in Altenburg or living back in St. Louis. Vehse reports that the younger Martin did stay in the community for a time. Stephan sent a letter to his son in St. Louis via a Mr. Kimmel, whom Stephan had met in Kaskaskia. No matter where the son was living, the father longed to see him.

  In spite of rumors that their relationship had grown cold and that the son rejected the father, Martin wanted to see his only son who was just seventeen. His letter is an urgent plea that reveals his hurt and loneliness. Even though he missed his son, he was too proud to expose his feelings directly. This father played the “respect your elders” card instead. The elder Stephan’s letter of July 20, 1840, reads,

  Dear Son,

  Although you are not inquiring about me, how I am, I cannot refrain from askin
g about you, how you are. I wrote to you last year, under the date of December 19, 1839, but the letter was detained on account of the ice. Now an opportunity presents itself to me to send you these lines. The bearer, Mr. Kimmel, had paid me a visit and promised me to look you up. Let me hear from you soon, and also let me know what news you have from Dresden about the members of our family. I would much prefer if you could pay me a visit so that I could see you and speak to you. Do not allow malicious minds to keep you away. The atrocious injustice, which the congregation, and especially its leaders, did to me, will be manifested in due season. God will make it manifest. Do not believe the many slanderous statements which have deluged me as a great flood. God will be the Judge, but then all things will appear in a far different light than men have portrayed them. The hostility of the congregation toward me cannot release you from the duties you, as a child, owe your father. God has not placed you as judge over your father, but has commended you to honor and obey him. Your now despised father is truly your best friend on earth. The enemies of your father will never become your friends. Obey God more than man. All men are liars.

  I am now living in Kaskaskia, Randolph County Illinois, and a city about 40 English miles distant from you [St. Louis]. If you care to visit me, Mr. Kimmel will, I trust, lend you the necessary money [reisegeld in German], if you ask him for it.