Tradition

“Kornova Chronicles: The Klink Family and the Wine Legacy of Priest Popa”

The colonization of the Bessarabia Governorate was a significant immigration and settlement process that took place in Tsarist Bessarabia, as part of the Russian Empire, from 1812 to 1917, with the most intense period occurring in the first half of the 19th century. This process had long-lasting effects on the population and ethnic composition of the territory between the Prut and Dniester rivers.

During the 105-year Russian rule that began in 1812 in the eastern part of medieval Moldavia, there was an effort to weaken the indigenous element by bringing in pro-Tsarist elements and promoting mass immigration from neighboring provinces and countries. This policy resulted in significant changes to the ethnic makeup of Bessarabia. Geographically, immigration was not uniform.

In 1814, the Germans founded their first colony in southern Bessarabia, Tarutino.
Then, in 1815, German colonies like Krasna, Klöstitz, Kulm, and Wittenberg were established. Later, in 1816, more German settlements were formed, including Arzis, Beresina, Borodino, Brienne, and Leipzig. Katzbach colony was founded in 1821, and Kornova colony in 1822.
During that year, by decree of Alexander I, German and Bulgarian settlers were exempted from paying taxes on the timber brought from Herson for building their homes and public buildings.
Germans received special incentives to settle in southern Bessarabia. They were exempt from taxes and dues for ten years, received a government loan for the same period, daily financial aid for food from the moment they settled until their first harvest, and were exempt from military service. They were also granted freedom of religion. Under these favorable conditions, it’s no wonder that in addition to German colonists from the Duchy of Warsaw, people from Germany itself, particularly Bavaria and Württemberg, chose to come to Bessarabia.
German colonists were allocated 60 dessiatines of land per family, received funds to establish their own households, and were exempted from recruitment permanently and from taxes and dues for ten years. They were free to build churches, employ clergymen, and practice their religion without restrictions. As a result, between 1814 and 1842, 24 German colonies were established. By 1856, there were 24,159 Germans living in the region. These settlers brought modern farming methods, superior animal breeds, and exemplary discipline and order. Initially placed in the southern part of the province, Germans gradually spread to the central regions of Bessarabia (Strymbeni in 1881, Alt-Onesti in 1885, Balmas and Emmental in 1886, Hirtenheim in 1887, etc.).
These settlements were inhabited by Bessarabian Germans until they were evacuated (Heim ins Reich) to the Third Reich in the autumn of 1940. The reason for the evacuation was the Soviet Union’s occupation of Bessarabia in the summer of the same year.

In the village of Cornova, back in 1931, a researcher named Dimitrie Gusti was busy with studies from June 26 to August 13. In the village, there was a fancy-looking mill owned by a German man named Klink. It looked like a grand courtyard. During this time, Dimitrie Gusti and his team met Popa Zamă, the village priest, who was 65 years old.

“In the church, we spoke with them and showed them a little book that explained how to grow vines…”
But the priest also played an important role in keeping Cornova’s economy healthy. The local vineyards were in trouble because of a disease called phylloxera, which was making the vines sick and causing them to disappear. Popa Zamă came to the rescue again. He brought special vines from other countries and convinced the villagers to replace the sick vines with these new ones.

“Back then, the people in Cornova mostly grew a type of vine they called ‘native vine,’ which was the way it used to be. They believed it came from Odobeşti, Romania. There was plenty of wine, and they had good harvests. But because there was so much wine, the prices were low, sometimes only 20 copecks per vat, and sometimes even 15. People traded it for land or more vines, and I also dealt with cattle. With the little profit I made, I bought small pieces of land, starting with 5, then 10, and eventually 20 desiatines. Thanks to the Lord, I now have a piece of land. But then, phylloxera came and started to destroy the vineyards. The Russian government sent a group to find infected vines and cut them down. They poured poison at the roots. But the people of Cornova resisted; they didn’t want to cut the vines. So, the group stopped coming to Cornova. But phylloxera continued to do its damage, and in 2-3 years, all

the vines were gone. But I got some journals about growing vines from Odesa. From there, I learned about special vines from France. Together with another landowner from Năpădeni, we brought about 6,000-7,000 vines from France. I received them at the train station and planted them. People looked at me and said, ‘What is the priest doing? Will these vines even survive?’ But I waited for two years, and when I tasted those grapes, nothing sweeter could be found here. Gradually, I started buying more vines and began a nursery. Some vines withered, but I managed to save about 10 desiatines of the old ones and 20 of the good ones. When people saw that I was growing vines, they started asking me. But I bought vines for those who had stood by me with my vineyard. I spoke to them in church and showed them the little book that explained how to multiply vines, and people still cover their vineyards today.” “Dear people,” I told them, “treat your vines with this solution…”

And when the vines, once again, were threatened, this time by a disease called mildew, the priest wanted to spray them with a solution of copper sulfate. The villagers stopped him, saying that “the blood would ooze from the grapes.” But for the stubborn folks in Cornova, who were influenced by a monk from the Balta Monastery, Popa Zamă found another solution: he blessed the sick vines.

“Things started getting better. The vineyards began to flourish and produce good grapes. Incomes increased, and I continued to buy small plots of land. But this happiness didn’t last long. Another disease came, causing leaves to wither and grapes to rot—downy mildew! What could we do? I read in those books that there were sprayers and copper sulfate for this task. I went and bought the sprayers. I went to Chișinău and got them. I found copper sulfate and started spraying the vineyards. For the past two years, everything had been rotting away. But after I sprayed the vines, the grapes were good. ‘Dear people,’ I told them, ‘treat your vines with this solution.’ They said, ‘Father, no!’ Because a monk, Inochentie, whom you may have heard of, was at Balta, and he said it was a sin to treat the vines this way, as blood would ooze from the grapes… The people of Cornova said they had seen it with their own eyes. ‘We’ve seen it, Father; it’s true.’ What could I do? I told them, ‘Dear people, what you say is true, but there is a remedy. Call me to your vineyard, and I will bless it.’ So, the villagers started coming to me, having their vineyards blessed, and in the end, I invited everyone. ‘Come, and I will give you a blessing,’ and I went with the priest’s sprinkler through the vineyards.

This is how the people’s vineyards started to get better. Word spread that the priest from Cornova knew how to help sick vines. Wherever I went, people asked me. And I told them all: ‘There is only one cure, and it’s to sprinkle your vines with my blessing.'”
Cercetătorul Henri H. Stahl spoke about Priest Ion Zamă, stating, “He was the man who knew how to cure vineyards.”

Our winemaking history has deep roots, going back to the German-Bessarabian family of Filimon Klink. He owned the village’s steam mill, a huge wine cellar, the only threshing machine, and took great care of acres of land, all in the German way. Even after he left in 1940, a red brick Western-style house and a massive arched cellar where they stored wines still stand. These structures are unique in our area. Surprisingly, Klink’s mill is still here, too. Mr. Vasile Soimaru, an economist, university lecturer, and Moldovan writer, played a big part in this project. For years, we searched for a single photo of this important German-descendant landowner.

In the spring of 1999, Mr. Soimaru met an elderly lady named Nastasia Nemţeanu from Năpădeni. She had some incredibly well-preserved photos that looked like they came from a dream. Nastasia was very hesitant to part with these pictures from her younger days when she was known for her beauty. She used to work as a maid for the Klink family and had close friendships with Filimon Klink’s three kids – Willi, Robert, and Elsa – and with three kids of

Filimon’s brother, Paul Klink: Oskar, Robert, and Rudi. One of Paul Klink’s sons was deeply in love with Nastia and wanted to marry her, but the consequences of a secret agreement called the Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact tore them apart forever.
Nastasia Nemţeanu was determined not to give away those precious photos, not even to make a simple copy. She had promised her grandchildren that they would find these photos in her coffin when she passed away. But life had been very hard for her due to poverty, and that’s why she eventually decided to trust me with these cherished pictures. In return for a copy for our book, she accepted a modest offer of 50 lei or a sack of bran. I gladly gave her both, realizing that this was the culmination of my long journey.

What’s even more remarkable is that a week later, Nastasia Nemţeanu gave me the original photos, keeping only the photocopies for herself. Two weeks after that, she peacefully passed away, taking those photocopies of her beloved portraits with her, the faces of people she had cherished all her life.

It’s hard to say what made this journey so special – perhaps a mix of coincidences and the beauty of the stories, feelings, and emotions I stumbled upon by chance. Most likely, it was the harmonious blend of all these elements, including the incredibly happy ending. This, in turn, played a significant role in creating our book about the village of Cornova, as well as the current monograph. Writing a book, as wisely noted by Nicolae Iorga, is an act that preserves the social essence of beauty and wisdom.

In 1976, the heir of the POPA Family Mr Igor Popa was born in Cornova. After studying in Frankfurt am Main, Germany, he returned to his hometown on May 6, 2022, with a noble goal – to revitalize and transform Cornova into a European village by attracting foreign investments. His plan is called “The Renaissance of Cornova 2030.” This project involves restoring the German House in Cornova, which will become the future Village Museum. This museum will have a special section about the history of the Germans in the Codrii Orheiului region, featuring the mill, the traditional well (oloiniță), the German cellar, and the winery. As part of this effort, they will carefully craft the famous Moldovan and Cornova wines, PINOGRIE and GHIURGHIULIU DE CORNOVA, to bring back their former glory.

On October 1, 2023, they will officially open “KORNOVA Weingut Klink,” the House of Guests and Winery, marking the start of producing high-quality wines.