Slippery Rock Gazette

Peter J. Marcucci

Special Contributor

These days, we could all use a little hope – it’s what gives us peace at night and vitality in the morning. Hope inspires our dreams, and dreams drive our motivation, our commitment, and our success. With hope we are strong; without it we are weak.

After years of religious persecution in Europe, the Moravians (a Protestant denomination) began arriving in North America in the early 18th century with a handful of essentials under each arm –and unwavering hope within their hearts. Strong and resourceful from years of living by their wits, their missions within America were to be the personification of that hope through building self-sufficient communities, perpetuating their values, and sharing their beliefs.

Not fleeing persecution, but rather at a missionary stage at this point, the German speaking Moravians set sail to the Caribbean, Africa, and Far East as well as South America and North America, eventually landing in the fledging American Colony of Georgia in 1735 to work with the Creek Indians. Within five years, our very own William Penn petitioned the Moravian mission in London and eventually convinced them to send a mission north into Pennsylvania. The Moravians then immigrated to Bethlehem, (so named by Count von Zinzendorf on his visit on Christmas Eve 1741) Pennsylvania, to work with the Iroquois Indians and build. And build they did, with native stone.

Above and Below: Designed by Christian Christianson (the designer of the Bethlehem Pennsylvania waterworks) and constructed in 1770 by master mason Philip Maixel and carpenter Joseph Grotz, the grist mill was the first of many structures to be made from locally quarried rough-cut limestone. This renovated structure (below, adding a new slate roof) was made into a bed and breakfast in 1986 and is currently The Inn at Millrace Pond. Records show that the mill provided flour to General George Washington’s Continental army, while based at nearby Jockey Hollow, New Jersey. Bottom Right: Water entered in the back to power the 10 RPM paddle wheel, and drive the mechanism and grinding stones. The massive gear passes through the wall in the second floor bar and dining room.

Hope: A New Beginning

In the early 1760s, North America was embroiled in the French and Indian War while concurrently, tensions between the American Colonies and Britain continued to ratchet-up by the day. The frontier towns connected by rough roads and trails had surprises around most every corner. 

For many years throughout this tumult, the Moravians had been successfully sending missionaries from Bethlehem to New York and New England along these roads, regularly passing through Greenland, New Jersey, a large area owned by Samuel Green, a Royal Surveyor for the Royal Governor of New Jersey. It was during these years that eventually the Moravians were befriended by Green and his wife, Abigail, and by 1768, the Greens had become so smitten with the Moravians that they offered them an approximate 1,000 acres—free. Wanting the opportunity, but not wanting a free ride, the Moravians did accept the land, but only after paying the sum of 1,000 British Pounds, as well as agreeing to supply food, hay, and firewood to the Greens for the rest of their lives. On March 7, 1769, a deal was finalized and Greenland was purchased, and now more resolute than ever, the Moravians threw caution to the wind and began designing the town that was soon to be renamed Hope.

Now the First Hope Bank, the original Gemeinhaus, (a combination meeting house and Church) was built in 1781. Sermons were conducted in both German and English, the two principle languages that were spoken in Hope, NJ.

Most Moravian-built structures can be identified by the signature brick arches above the windows and the cut and placement of the cornerstones. The limestone quarry was under a mile away and the limestone blocks were delivered by draft horses and wagon. Mortar was made at the kiln with a mixture of ground limestone and locally dug clay.

The Growth Years

Due to the many years of isolation in Europe, the Moravians had learned all too well how to be resourceful and self-sufficient, and the missionaries sent to Hope consisted of artisans, teachers and doctors, and practical tradesmen like masons, carpenters and tanners, and metal smiths, manufacturers, and entrepreneurs, as well as farmers. These tradesmen, educators, and healers were driven, motivated, and expert at working collectively, but above all—they were fiercely loyal to their faith, their families, and their neighbors. They pursued music, art and poetry, and schooled both young men and women with absolute equality. They were also keenly aware of the fact that you could have the best tradesmen in the land, but with no outside money coming into the community, the town wasn’t sustainable. So, the first building to be constructed was one that could provide both food and money. 

The Bethlehem, Pennsylvania Water-works, a grist mill designed by Christian Christianson was constructed from limestone quarried about a mile away. Using traditional European techniques, the limestone blocks were unearthed and delivered to the construction site by draft horses and wagon, and then hand-split and placed by master mason Philip Maixel using mortar made from the combination of locally dug clay and leftover limestone scraps from the quarry. 

By 1770, a miraculous one year later, the mill was up and running, powered by the rush of water from a local stream through a race that had been cut while the mill was under construction. 

Also being built during this time were two farms that were needed to supply not only the food for Hope’s growing population, but the grain needed to keep the now fully-functional grist mill in production. Soon to follow were the two kilns needed for the mass manufacturing of brick and mortar, and a store to accommodate the growing community.

By 1773, the construction of three more limestone buildings was underway all within earshot of the mill: a tannery, a brewery and a distillery. By 1775, two houses had also been constructed out of the local limestone. The second of these two houses was home to Stephen Nicolaus, the builder and operator of the kilns, and also was used as a school and where town residents could come to bake the day’s bread in the large community beehive oven. The town was growing, and houses were now steadily rising in lockstep with that growth.

It is noteworthy to mention that the Moravians dutifully worshiped 2-3 times per day, but at this point, no place of worship had yet been constructed. The Gemeinhous, their church, also called a “Sall”, was built in 1781 and served as a community center, cultural center, and dormitory for out of town visitors, as well as the residence for the presiding minister and his family. Townspeople could come here for the Good Word and the good food that was prepared in the two kitchens, while keeping up with the day’s news, socializing, or meeting with out-of-town businessmen there to purchase locally produced goods.

It was now the turn of the century, and a school had finally been built as well as a sawmill, an oil mill and a pottery, again, all within earshot of the gristmill.

Above: This trim cottage with a natural slate roof was built in 1776. The front and side porches are modern additions.

Above: This  solid and functional fireplace is the real deal and one of two cooking areas in the kitchens of the Gemeinhaus. Note the baking oven in the back.

Above: The remnants of this water wheel serve to inspire curiosity while the wine on the left is kept at a perfect temperature in the cool, stone-lined room.

Above: Believed to have been a bridge toll house, this trim, restored building now serves as a combination realtors and law office.

Above: Many of the more beautifully preserved and restored buildings in Hope have found new life as offices and civic headquarters.

Above: This home and barn were the first of two farms built just a stone’s throw from the grist mill, now The Inn at Millrace Pond.

The Inn at Millrace Pond hostess station second floor, showing the support beams running throughout the Interior of the old grist mill. Just down the stairs is the grinding room where the water race entered the mill.

The Decline

 A fully functional town was now complete, but a series of problems arose and began to erode the population of 149 Moravians—the first being a competing mill that had been opened by local businessman Joseph Swayze. 

The Moravian’s mill had always been the income “cornerstone” of the community, and with the Swayze mill in full operation, the profits of the Moravian mill came to a grinding halt. With 100 percent clarity of our historical hindsight, this was the tipping point for the struggling community, and the failure of Hope was imminent.

Later that year, two separate fires had engulfed two of the local structures, further putting a damper on business as usual As economic conditions continued to deteriorate, malaria and disease had also taken a stranglehold on the community, and people were dying. As if these setbacks weren’t enough, the final blow to the weakened community was the responsibility they felt about the repayment of the debt they had acquired by the monetary subsidies they’d been receiving over the years from the Moravian mother church in Europe.

By 1802, the school as well as many houses had been abandoned as the population waned to a mere 84 as tradesmen and their families left for the thriving Bethlehem area where they could still earn a living.

On March 11, 1808 a deal was struck to sell the entire town, and on Easter Day, April 17, 1808, a final service was conducted at the Gemeinhous and the Cemetery, bringing the Moravian Hope mission to a close. The few people who had remained loaded their wagons, locked the doors and set forth with great courage and resolve to neighboring Bethlehem and Nazareth, Pennsylvania. It is plausible to say that truly the most valued possession they took with them was not the cargo in their wagons; it was the “Nothing is impossible” and “If you need it, build it” philosophies they embodied. And while it may also be said that there was no single incident that caused their decline, it may also be said that there was no single incident that hadn’t led to it. 

Unlike so many of the cultures that came to this land, the Moravians never behaved like an invading army. Greed and the urge to conquer was something that they had likely read about, but not something they were burdened with. All they knew was diligence, persistence, faith, and the goodness of the earth. They were kind and compassionate and treated everyone with respect. They didn’t come to dominate; they came to pass on their beliefs, raise their children in a free society, and pursue their trades, and when they left Hope, it wasn’t the end of their story. 

Actually, it was just the beginning of a new chapter. Strong minds, hard work and determination are part of their legacy to us and the foundation of this country. 

There are only a handful of stone structures built by the Moravians remaining in Bethlehem, Penn-sylvania. Unfortunately, most of them were torn down during the steel boom of the 1940s to 1950s. What saved the town of Hope, in part, was the fact that the railroad didn’t pass through there. Hope was largely bypassed by industry and progress, leaving one of the first planned communities in the country virtually untouched, a lasting legacy of sturdy limestone structures with a rustic appeal and charm beyond compare. But perhaps the greatest legacy of the Hope Moravians is the treasure trove of stories shared by their descendants, who have preserved  their history and values and continue to pass them down by generations of historians willing to give the most precious gift of all — their time. 

Our very sincere thanks to lifelong Hope, New Jersey residents and historians Carol Kernoschak and Norman Beatty. This story would not have been possible without their knowledge of local history.