They are called the Shakers—after the ecstatic trembling that once characterized their worship—but their adherence to the hard tenets of their religious practice is firm and unwavering. Introduced in America in 1774 by Englishwoman Ann Lee (and known officially as the United Society of Believers in Christ's Second Appearing), the Shakers practice communal living and celibacy and equate simplicity of lifestyle with purity of faith. In the mid-1800s they numbered 6,000 in nine states; today, because of their celibate ways and a failure to attract new believers, the Shakers are virtually extinct. Only two of the sect's 19 communal villages remain, one in Sabbathday Lake, Maine, the other in Canterbury, N.H. Eight women are the lone survivors. The youngest in Canterbury, Eldress Bertha Lindsay, is blind and lives there with two sister Shakers, both in their 90s. The group's unofficial historian, Eldress Bertha is the author of Served With Grace, a Shaker cookbook to be published next fall. She still occasionally cooks and cans fruits but now spends much of her time listening to tape recorded readings of the Bible and to TV programs ranging from Jerry Falwell sermons to Wall Street Week. Now 89, she says she would like "to be remembered as a simple Shaker sister, nothing very great, but one who loved living here."

When I came to Canterbury, I was almost 8. That was 81 years ago. My parents, who were Baptists, used to come to the Shaker village here to worship. When they both died within a month of each other, my sister, who was 18 years older than I and who wanted to get married and go West, asked the Shakers if she could bring me here.

I came with my sister, and she stayed the weekend. Monday morning she took the mail coach out of the village. I lay right down in the middle of the road and cried. Then Sister Helena Sarle came along and said, "Don't cry, little girl. I'll be your sister." And true to what she said, she was a sister to me as long as she lived.

There were six little girls my age in the order, and I made the seventh. My first Sunday here was in May, and our church was in the orchard. I had never seen so many birds and so many beautiful blossoms. The sky was blue, it was a perfect day, so I really felt at home.

We had all the curriculum they had in the other schools, although I think we had better teaching. I loved the school, but I had very poor eyesight, so when I was about 15 I learned to cook and how to do things around the house to help the sisters. Little girls were taught very early to make our beds, to help clean the house, to knit and crochet. Out of school, we were permitted to take any studies we wanted. I took up astronomy, and I loved that. And I took up elocution, because I was the star in most of the entertainments we had throughout the year. They were religious entertainments, little plays, and the public could come.

For most of my life I kept to myself, but people wanting to know about the Shakers have been my incentive to talk. I want them to understand that we weren't the funny people that they thought we were. We have had everything to make life pleasant and more easy to work with, all the gadgets, automobiles, farm implements, all of that. We Shakers invented the common house broom, a washing machine, the common clothespin. The circular saw was invented by a Shaker sister.

Because I loved cooking, I was called to take charge of the kitchen when I was 19. When I was not in the kitchen, I made the poplar boxes. Some we called handkerchief boxes and some we called work boxes, because we fitted them with an emery [for sharpening needles] and wax and needle hooks for the ladies' sewing. The little jewelry box would sell for 75 cents. Nowadays you go into an antique shop and it's hundreds of dollars.

Although I am ashamed of it now, I have to be truthful and say that I did have the desire to leave the Shakers at one time. It was during the First World War. I thought maybe I would like to marry. I loved housekeeping, but I was not so particular about having children. Also, I was very fond of music, and I thought maybe I could do something with my singing or playing. If I had decided to leave, I would have been permitted to go with love and a provision of money and clothing. I could have come back and visited, because Shakers are never permitted to dislike anybody or cast them aside.

I went and talked to different sisters whom I loved very much. I finally decided that I would stay, that I could give my life and love here on these hundreds of acres and receive all I needed.

I don't think Shakers are different in the least from other Christian sects, because we do believe in Christ's teachings, and we believe in the Bible. It's just that we believe in living together in union, which most people don't.

We never "shook" in chapel. We didn't continue that in my day. Not the dancing, not the shaking. It was essential in the early days of the Shakers, when the services were more like revival services. It says in the Bible to dance and sing before the Lord. Well, we do still sing, but the dancing was discontinued many years ago.

I pray every day and more than once a day, because you don't have to get down on your knees to say a prayer. Mother Ann [Lee] said, "Hands to work and hearts to God," so if you're working, you can say a prayer.

Love is loving what is good in a person, I think. I have loved all these sisters very, very much; yes I have. I have to say I didn't love the brothers much. I don't know why. They didn't like me very much, I don't think. I could talk with the sisters on different subjects, and my feelings.

It was not difficult to maintain a life of celibacy, not at all. In the very beginning, we couldn't shake a man's hand, but now we do. The church loosened up. There is no harm in shaking hands, if it goes no further than that.

There was a prophesy given by Mother Ann that the Shaker villages would finally close. But we had no idea we would get down to so few. We always had the idea that we might take in somebody, but we never did. People got attracted outside. War attracted some of the brothers, so we lost them. Here at Canterbury we lost our last brother in 1938. We couldn't take in any new men because we didn't have brothers to act as their counselors. I knew then it would come to an end. The sisters were getting older. We stopped taking in the children because the town wanted them to go to public schools. In 1957 the leaders agreed we would not take in any more members.

Indeed, it is very sad. We don't want to close our doors. I would like the churches all to fill right up with Shakers again. We have touched many lives. I would like us to be remembered as people who loved everybody. I think the spirit of Shakerism will live on. That could never die. Good never dies. It lives forever.

  • Contributors:
  • Cable Neuhaus.
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