Pioneering at Mayton

By Beulah Stauffer Hostetler

I knew that my grandparents had moved to Mayton, Alberta when my mother was an infant. She often talked about the hardships, the formidable hills that needed to be crossed in order to purchase supplies. I was able to find bits of additional information in obituaries. The congregational and biographical accounts in the History of the Alberta-Saskatchewan Mennonite Conference, compiled by my father, yielded further information. But details and nuances were missing. John and I decided it was necessary to visit Mayton.

The day before leaving Willow Grove, Pennsylvania for our proposed trip in July 1992, I discovered it was not possible to find Mayton on our maps! We would need to head south from Edmonton, Alberta, securing a better map on the way.

We picked up our rental car in Edmonton on Wednesday afternoon and headed south toward Red Deer. I did not remember having seen Alberta look so lush and green. It was June 24, only a few days from the longest daylight of the year, so we still had five or six hours of daylight. We reached a sign denoting "Red Deer" in good time, but had difficulty in finding the town. All we saw was scattered buildings on a maze of roadways. After several near accidents it seemed definitely time to choose a hotel and to stop for the night. The local time was 7 p.m. Our bodies told us it was 10 p.m., so we went to our room, pulled the drapes shut, and went to bed.

In the morning we found ourselves within several blocks of the courthouse. When we were about to enter we found it was the old courthouse. A pedestrian pointed out to us the new courthouse, diagonally across the street. The desk clerks knew nothing about Mayton, and seemingly did not consider such a question to be a part of their responsibility. John then checked a nearby Real Estate Office. They, too, could give us no information, in spite of the detailed maps on their walls.

I knew that Innisfail had initially been one of the towns closest to Mayton, so we decided to drive there. As we entered the town we again found a municipal building. But there, too, the clerks knew nothing of Mayton. We did learn that there was a history museum in town, and decided to find it. The museum occupied us for several hours, but we did not learn anything about either the location or the settlement of Mayton, in spite of perusing a file of newspapers dating back to the early 1900s.

In response to our inquiry a museum attendant recommended a pleasant restaurant in a new shopping mall across town. We were enjoying excellent sandwiches and coffee when three elderly persons entered the restaurant and sat down at a nearby table. John commented that they looked like they had lived in the area for "a hundred years." They would know where Mayton was. He immediately went over and talked to them. Yes, they were farmers from south of Innisfail. They knew the general area where Mayton had been located, but said there was no longer anything there. They recommended we go to Olds, then east, asking residents of the area for more precise directions.

An elderly couple in the next booth entered the conversation. The man said he used to go dancing in Mayton Hall, and that there was a church named May City. He said he could show us on the map where it was located, so I quickly went out to the car and brought in the map. He marked a spot, supposedly two miles east of Olds, on highway 27. That, he said, was the location of the church, and two miles south of there we would find Mayton.

We were elated and joyfully went on our way. We drove south to Olds, then east two or three miles. We found nothing, so when John saw two men drive their truck into a farmyard, he followed them. Upon inquiring, they said our restaurant informant was way off. Mayton was down the road five or six miles after two coulees. We continued on for the designated distance, finding nothing but flat prairie stretching before us. Once again we saw a car drive into a yard, and John followed it. After initial coolness, they said we must continue on for another five miles or so, then we would find the two coulees, and beyond them a gravel road on the right that would lead us to the May City church. We did not know what coulees were, but expected that when we came upon something varying from the general flat prairie, we would be at the coulees.

As predicted, we found the coulees. Each was as large ravine transversing the roadway, extending on either side as far as eye could see. We found the gravel road, but in more than a mile saw no sign of a church, so John stopped a truck coming down the road. Yes, the driver said, the May City church was several miles farther on. There was also a cemetery on the left behind the upcoming cluster of trees. A big book on the Mayton community had come out recently.
We saw no sign of the cemetery as we drove along, but in time we reached the church. Across from the church was a modest dwelling. We stopped there first, doubting that anyone would be at the church. A young matron came out, and in answer to our query, said the pastor would be at the church.

We drove over to the church and entered. A young man appeared, likely to see what the disturbance was, and we told him our mission. Yes, this was the May City church. Gradually he became a bit more friendly, and brought out the membership book.

It was evident that a New Mennonite congregation existed before Amos Bauman was silenced by the Ontario Mennonite Conference in 1906. The first membership list was dated 1904. Bauman was listed as a member first in 1909. John then asked if there were any Mennonites in the area. The pastor responded that there were quite a few, but that most of them did not know that they were Mennonites. This was now a United Missionary Church. The denomination had taken that name in 1947. As an evangelical, revivalist expression, they were initially called New Mennonites in Ontario. In some other areas they were called Mennonite Brethren in Christ.

We thanked the pastor, then retraced our steps, looking for the cemetery. Not finding it as soon as we thought we should, we turned around, and again John drove into a yard. A sign on the garage greeted us: "Beware of Wife. The dog is O.K." A slender, late-middle aged woman answered the door. When she perceived the contact called for some conversation she eased herself down onto the porch steps, explaining that she had broken her hip. After more conversation and repeated invitations we went into the house, where we also met her husband. We declined an offer of tea or coffee, but soon found ourselves in the living room, looking at the large book we had been told about, Sweaty Brows and Breaking Plows: A History of Mayton and Mayton City Districts (n.d.:n.p.), c. 1991.

The book was an unbelievable find, a compilation of memories and family histories by residents and former residents of the community. Unfortunately copies were not available. Our hosts served us some refreshing crabapple juice, and then left us alone to examine the book. We leafed through it, noting pages that we would particularly like to have photocopied. They promised to have their nephew copy the pages, and they would send them to us. We thanked them heartily, left some money for the photocopying, and then were off again, this time to the cemetery.

The well-kept cemetery was on our left as we drove up. It had belonged to the Mennonites until 1967. It was now community owned, and they apparently took considerable pride in keeping it up well. I did not recall many deaths in the Mennonite community at Mayton from 1901 to 1918. My grandparents did lose a baby girl, Christina. I knew that if we could find her grave we would have the right cemetery. We quickly found the marker for the grave of Christina Lehman, l907. Next to it was one for Elias Wideman, 1904-19095, infant son of Abraham and Anna Hembling Wideman. It was indeed the burial site for the conservative Mennonite community. But it also contained the grave of Amos Bauman, who had joined the New Mennonites.

Much of the information in the following article has been gleaned from Sweaty Brows and Breaking Plows. An equally exciting find was the diary of S. F. Coffman, who served the fledgling Mennonite settlements of the area for six months in 1901, and recorded many details concerning his experience.

The eager travelers were seeking land they could possess. The opportunities of the Canadian Northwest had been heralded in Iowa at the turn of the century, and substantial numbers of settlers who had first tried Iowa were aboard the immigrant train. Homestead land was still available at $l0 for l60 acres, and by living on the land and developing it within three years, one could acquire ownership. John K. and Susanna Lehman, ages 27 and 25, and their first child, fifteen-month-old Irene, were aboard the train. On board with them were John K.'s sister Catherine, 29, her husband John Brubaker and their family, the large Abraham Wideman family (Susanna's parents and siblings, including infant daughter Mary Ann), and a single man, Milton Sitler. Cattle, household items, and families all traveled together on the same train. When milking time came the cows were milked aboard the train, providing sustenance for the traveling families.

The weather was pleasant upon their arrival at Innisfail in the Northwest Territories on March 11, 1901, but the ground was still covered with two feet of wet snow. Everything had to be taken off the train. Household goods, animals, and equipment had to be unloaded, with little accommodation for temporary storage. The land the Lehman-Wideman clan had filed for lay 17 miles southeast. The Mennonite settlers from Ontario that they knew about had settled south and somewhat west of the town, about 25 miles from the Iowa group's prospective location. The Lehmans, Widemans and Brubakers would proceed directly to their own homestead sites. The women and children stayed at the crowded frontier hotel in Innisfail. The men assembled equipment and supplies in preparation to set out to claim their promised land.

Crossing the flat, snow-covered miles was arduous; then, just before the men reached their designated homestead sites, a formidable coulee transversed the prairie. The deep ravine extended in both directions as far as eye could see. They wondered whether there was water at the bottom under the snow, and if so, how much. They had to cross it. They quickly realized the sleds would need to pass through one at a time. The men needed to hold the sleds back, serving as human brakes as they went down into the ravine. To ascend the other side the horses needed to be double-teamed.

Wearily they attained the other side with all of their sleds, only to be confronted by a second coulee. The sight depressed the spirits, hope and courage of the fledgling group. They would have to traverse those two coulees every time they needed supplies or wished to market produce. The men were wet and weary. They had no shelter other than their wagons. They chose a spot to camp and the next day proceeded to cross the second coulee and continue a short distance to the designated sites of their homesteads.

The wet snow was so deep that they could not find the surveyor's stakes. They chose a site they considered well within their domain, then decided to construct side by side a simple shack out of green lumber for each family. A few poplar trees dotted the landscape, and they were cut down to make window and door frames. When the snow melted the shacks would need to be moved to their appropriate sites.

Several trips to and from Innisfail, across the coulees, were needed to bring in the families, furniture, and supplies. Mud followed the wet, melting snow. The trips were strenuous for the settlers, and especially so for their horses. The settlers were claiming land they could afford, but the indirect costs were high. Both man and beast were taxed to the limits of their strength every time the coulees needed to be crossed.

They named the settlement Mayton. (why?) As spring came their hopes brightened. They moved their shanties to their respective properties, and turned their attention to gardens and fields. The days were long, with daylight stretching from before 5:00 a.m. to l0: 00 p.m. Then snow came! On Monday, June 3, there was a thunderstorm, followed by hail that whitened the ground. Then the wind shifted from the southwest to the north, and the rain turned to snow. The storm continued the next day. By Wednesday morning the sun was shining, but the snow was 8 inches deep! For the next week stormy weather and intermittent snow continued. John K. Lehman, sitting in his house--if it could be called a house --was able to look through the cracks left by the shrinking green wood and see his father-in-law's place through the flying snow. The coulees contained so much icy water they were almost impassable.

Eventually the weather improved, and wild flowers dotted the prairie. Soon strawberries, raspberries, gooseberries, saskatoons and chokecherries abounded. Game was plentiful. Mosquitoes were so bad that the boys herding cows on the luxuriant grass often lay flat on the ground and covered their heads with their coats. Yet the settlers were optimistic. They felt they could tame the land and make it their own.

Their religious circumstances were more tenuous. The Mayton settlers learned that the Ontario Mennonites had sent a preacher west to minister to their scattered members. Young Samuel Frederick Coffman, who turned 29 while on the prairie, spent his first months visiting families, preaching in schoolhouses, doing odd repairs, and collecting and pressing wild flowers. He regularly recorded his experiences in a diary. Gradually he won the confidence of the settlers from Ontario, and would eventually organize several congregations. Many of the Mayton settlers had left Ontario fifteen years earlier, when they immigrated to Iowa. These same settlers, now coming from Iowa, felt a renewed kinship with the Ontario Mennonites since John and Susanna's recent visit. By July Coffman sent word that he wished to visit the settlement at Mayton. Coffman represented the Ontario Mennonite Conference, from which the Stauffer Mennonites in Iowa had withdrawn, but the Mayton settlers were ready to receive him. When Coffman arrived he was met by Abraham Wideman and Amos Brubaker in Innisfail, then journeyed with them to Mayton. S. F. hoped to have a meeting with the group the following evening, but the weather was stormy, and only John K. and Susanna came.

The following evening a group met at John K. Lehman's place. The cabin was simple and sparsely furnished, yet neat and somehow inviting. Lehman was a church member. He had been baptized in Ontario, but was not in "full standing" with the Iowa group. He was under censorship by them for his defiance of some of their regulations, but no one in the Mayton group doubted the sincerity of his commitment. Coffman's text at the meeting was Romans l2: l and 2. It was the standard text calling for separation from the world, but Coffman emphasized that its real thrust was the renewal of the mind. He spent the night with John and Susanna, his young contemporaries.

The next morning S. F. spent some time at the Lehman's, then wished to call on a neighboring Snyder family that lived on the other side of the coulee. John K. hitched up his ponies, but the rain had been heavy and the water in the coulee was too deep to cross. They drove around on the banks of the coulee a bit, S. F. noting that it contained nice building stone. He also found a few new specimens for his wild flower collection, which now numbered more than a hundred species gathered from the area. Toward evening John K. took S. F. to his sister Catherine and brother-in-law John Brubaker's place, where they had the evening meeting. S. F. noted in his diary that "A Russian from a German congregation in Dakota, Mr. Goe[r]tz, was also present. May God bless and prosper them in their unity."

It was rainy again the following morning, but John K. drove S. F. the seventeen miles to Innisfail with his buggy and ponies. Abraham Wideman accompanied them. S. F. used his umbrella to keep himself "relatively" dry. Coffman continued on to Calgary.

In September Coffman organized a congregation called Mount View at High River and another called West Zion near Carstairs. He ordained both a minister and a deacon to serve them. This work accomplished, he determined to return to Mayton. The group had made application to unite with the Ontario Mennonite Conference.

Coffman and a companion set out early on October ll, and drove to Spruce Coulee, crossing it at Murray's ranch. From there they took a direct trail into the settlement and went to John Brubakers, where they received breakfast. The next day they called at Abraham Widemans, then continued on to John K. and Susanna Lehmans. John K. gave Coffman a present of a badger skin.

A number of young people who had been unwilling to be baptized in Iowa now requested baptism. They included Susanna Wideman Lehman, and her siblings Martha and William. Joseph Brubaker, son of Amos, also wished to join the church.

On Sunday, October l3, the group met at Abraham Widemans and S. F. spoke "along the lines of the first articles of the confession of faith as instruction for the candidates for baptism." In the afternoon another service was held, where he spoke concerning the ordinances and bearing fruit. That evening Leah
Brubaker also expressed her desire to unite with the group. S. F. then returned to the Carstairs area to finalize his work there before returning home to Ontario. He wanted to hold communion in each congregation before his departure.

On Monday, November 4, l90l, S. F. Coffman, accompanied by Israel Shantz, again set out for Mayton. They stopped to take the noon meal with a Mennonite family en route, then continued on via the Edmonton trail to Colburn's ranch. From there they continued northeast to Burns' and Dugan's ranch, then northeast to Spruce Coulee. All went well until they tried to cross the water at the bottom of the coulee. In spite of every effort S. F. could muster, the tired and fearful ponies would not cross. So he waded through the water and walked to John K. Lehmans. Lehman came back to the coulee with a wagon, tied the ponies to it, and pulled them across.

On Tuesday the settlers gathered with S. F. to make arrangements for a baptismal service. Wednesday they gathered again, and further instruction was given to the baptismal candidates. In the afternoon Susanna Wideman Lehman, Leah Brubaker, Martha Wideman and Ed Wideman were baptized. John K. Lehman was received upon his confession of faith. All of the members communed. It was a nice weekday and Will Wideman and Joe Brubaker had to be at work, but arrangements were made so they could also be baptized and received into the church. At long last the young people who had refused to bow to the idiosyncrasies of the Iowa bishop were embracing the church.
They were still without a leader. Preacher Amos Bauman was having difficulty getting along with his brother, Bishop Jesse Bauman in the Iowa community, and it was rumored that he was thinking about Mayton. They would wait.

Beulah Stauffer Hostetler, Goshen, Indiana, is author of American Mennonites and Protestant Movements (Scottdale: Herald Press, 1987). This is a chapter from a forthcoming book, The Journey Home.

 

Mennonite Historical Bulletin, April 1999