5. City Occult #5: The New World’s First Doomsday Cult

There were a few times the world was supposed to end in recent memory.

Y2K — Computers and the internet survived… although that’s when some believe the simulation began….

The 2012 Mayan Prophecy — finally, a Mayan miss (although the end of Breaking Bad that year was equally painful)… so now that the Mayans have an L on their prediction record, it’s The Simpsons who are still going strong… and continue to hit with a intricate feel of detail and seemingly endless ammunition :

These phenomenon were known worldwide. The vast majority took them casually, but there were a handful who others bought totally the fuck in with as much doomsday preparation, theoretical discussion, and culty intentions as they had free hours in the day.

Groups of people, small and large, assured the world will end on a particular day, or their on a mission to find out what day that will be, came together to form DOOMSDAY CULTS

And wouldn’t you know, one of the first publicized and documented doomsday cults sprouted up right here.

In 1690s Philadelphia. A relatively peaceful scene (besides slavery and rogue Indian treaties)

It’s occupied by cobblestone streets and cedar trees, it would soon welcome Benjamin Franklin and had already inherited excessive tarifs on tea.

The Society of the Women in the Wilderness

In 1694, a group of German monks and mystics called “The Society of the Women in the Wilderness” settled in what is today’s Wissahickon Valley Park.

Their name comes from Revelations 12:14-7; a story about women who took refuge in the wilderness during the apocalypse…

And despite their name, one of the strangest things about them—NO WOMEN.

Literally zero.

40 dudes.

Monks & Mystics.

From Author and Bibliophile, Steven A. Wiggins:

The “Hermits of the Wissahickon.”  If you’ve not heard of them, you’re not alone. They, despite being men to a man, preferred the title “Society of the Woman in the Wilderness.”  They were followers of Johannes Kelpius. Kelpius, like Conrad Beissel after him, was a German mystic, Pietist, and musician, and he also believed the end of the world was imminent. This was in 1694, just a few years before Beissel laid the foundations for Ephrata Cloister.  Like Beissel, Kelpius decided Pennsylvania was the best place to set up camp. Although founded by Quakers, Pennsylvania offered something some other colonies didn’t—real religious freedom. Given that you could be killed for being a Quaker in some of the other colonies, this didn’t seem like a bad idea. Convinced Jesus would return in 1694, Kelpius and his followers settled into a cave just outside Philadelphia, by the Wissahickon Creek. They set up a quasi-monastic community to wait out the clock near the city of brotherly love.

It’s difficult to know if Conrad Beissel was consciously imitating the work of Kelpius. Religious leaders tend to have pretty strong views of their own outlooks. The draw to Pennsylvania, in those days, was strong.  Interestingly, both Kelpius and Beissel are remembered for their music. The death of Johannes Kelpius isn’t as well documented as that of Beissel—you can see the latter’s burial place in Ephrata.  Like millions of others, Kelpius lived through the “great disappointment” of not having the Second Coming occur when he supposed it would. Some suggest Kelpius believed he would be translated after death. He died in 1708, as his younger colleague was exploring the wilderness several miles to the west. Keplius’ final resting place is listed, perhaps fittingly, as “unknown in Pennsylvania.”

https://steveawiggins.com/2022/07/31/woman-in-the-wilderness/

The 40 Monks & Mystics

The monks really connected with that passage and CHOSE Pennsylvania to setup their doomsday haven due to its reputation for religious tolerance. Wissahickon Creek was chosen in particular due to it’s position on the 40th parallel, a circle of latitude that is 40 degrees north of the Earth's equatorial plane. This number was especially meaningful to the cult— ahem— monks because the number 40 is often associated with worthiness and pragmatism in the practice of numerology.

All 50 men believed sternly that the world would end by the end of 1694 (spoiler alert: it didn’t) and who wanted to live an ascetic life on the edge of the known world while they anxiously awaited the second coming of Christ.

It was 26-year-old Johannes Kelpius who largely took on the leadership role of the group. Kelpius was well educated and had a masters in theology from the University of Altdorf.

Side Note: Kelpius was also born in the same village as Vlad the Impaler, so, do with that what you will.

Shortly after arriving in the Wissahickon Valley, the monks erected a 40 square foot tabernacle at the highest point of the ridge. It was built primarily of logs and contained rooms for worship and living as well as an observatory where the members could practice astronomy or preform nightly vigils for the second coming. The most incredible thing about this is that the observatory and it’s telescope were the first to ever exist in the new world.

While most of the monks either lived in the tabernacle or in small cabins scattered around the ridge, Kelpius lived further down the slope in a natural cave which he enlarged by building a roof out from the hillside. Later named “The Cave of Kelpius,” this dwelling is rumored to have been crowded with incredible scientific instruments, philosophical books, and more.

Hidden City Philly article — https://hiddencityphila.org/2011/11/doomsday-cult-on-the-wissahickon/

However, all good things come to an end and when 1694 was over and nothing happened the monks became restless. They started moving out into the city around 1700, but not before one more Midsummer Night’s Eve celebration.

It was during this ceremony that, as the monks began to light the fire, brethren saw a white moving figure floating in the air above them. It dissipated as quickly as it had arrived and the monks fell to their knees, having become convinced that this was the sign they had been waiting for. They held a prayer vigil until midnight and when they finally tried once more to light the fire the apparition was seen again. The monks began flinging firey embers down the hill, burning homes and wildlife in their path, until the morning. The world had not, in fact, ended.

Kelpius died of tuberculosis four years later which caused the group to disband for good. In present day, you would hardly ever know the monks were there. A mansion was constructed over the remains of the tabernacle, the cabins are gone, and the scientific instruments have been lost to time.

The only remaining trace of “The Society of the Women in the Wilderness” is Kelpius’s cave - now known as Hermit’s Cave - marked by a single plaque.

Philadelphia; the city of firsts. The first turnpike, the first steamboat, the first stock exchange, and the first doomsday cult.