Abstract
Finnish immigration to Michigan’s
copper district grew to become the most populous
ethnic group with an enduring cultural identity.
Kuparisaari, “copper island,” went beyond
the Finnish immigrant identification of the island
that comprises the northern half of the Keweenaw
Peninsula to a symbolic island of landing, an Ellis
Island. Michigan’s Copper Country is recognized
as focal to Finnish immigration to America, the birthplace
of many Finnish-American institutions religious,
political and educational. This “island” includes
both settlements in growing industrial urban communities
like the Quincy, Calumet & Hecla and Champion
mining settlements, and cleared forestland for traditional
Finnish agriculture as in Toivola, Tapiola, Elo,
Pelkie, and Waasa; Finns settled north and south
of the Portage Waterway that bisects the peninsula.
Perhaps more than any other immigrant group, the
Finnish communities in the district were bisected
into divisions of politics and faith. The Finns who
immigrated to the copper mining district held to
a pietistic Laestadian (Apostolic) Lutheran belief,
to the state-sanctioned Lutheranism of Finland (Suomi
Synod) or rejected faith altogether. Within these
divides of conscience of faith was a wide political
spectrum: conservative to liberal adherents, resolute
temperance advocates and active radical socialists.
The social and economic conditions that emigrants
left in northern Scandinavia and the Duchy of Finland
influenced these allegiances and beliefs.
The
Finns who came to the mining district by 1914 had
never known a self-governing Finland. Finland functioned
subordinate to some six centuries of Swedish governance
superceded by Russian imperialism from 1809. From
the disenfranchised laborers of Vaasa in the west,
the collapsing wood-ship building and tarring industry
along the Bothnian coast, and the famines in the
north, Finns from the Russian Duchy of Finland and
from northernmost Norway and Sweden lived in a cycle
of poverty which grew bitterer by the mid-19th century.
Famine from 1862 to 1868 was followed by increasing
economic and political Russian oppression. Regarding
the famine, John Kolehmainen records its severity:
I remember, though a child
When frost stole the harvest.
We suffered hunger then,
There was no food to be blest.
Mother cried until her death,
Father sank, sorrowed,
Tears streaked his furrowed cheeks,
As bread in vain we begged and borrowed (Finn
1).
But failed crops were just one cause of famine and
poverty. In the 1890’s, a Russian Prince Kropotkin
described the Finnish tenant farmers’ desperate
poverty, a poverty from rent and taxes:
He gnaws at his hard-as-stone rye-flour cake
which he bakes twice a year; he has with it a
morsel of fearfully salted cod and a drink of
skimmed milk. How dare I talk to him of American
machines (presumably for farming efficiency),
when all that he can raise must be sold to pay
rent and taxes (Finn
2)?
A small middle class of professionals, prosperous
shopkeepers, larger land and industry holders belonged
to a long-established Swedish-speaking privileged
caste and a smaller still Finnish bourgeoisie, often
shunning the language and lifeways of the majority.
As late as the mid-19th century, Finns campaigned
to make the Finnish language officially co-equal
with Swedish, an official recognition that would
take much longer to be adopted as the culture of
business and government. Meanwhile, Lonnroth and
Sibelius preserved and created Finnish cultural traditions
with the commitment of the epic Kalevala to paper
and the composition of complex lyrical music, respectively (Finn
3).
However, the rise of nationalist Finnish sentiment
ran up against an intensified Russian oppression.
Since 1878, a law made the young men of the Duchy
of Finland eligible for compulsory service in the
imperial army and navy. A Russification program of
Governor-General Nikolai Bobrikov, appointed by the
Czar in 1898, made its boldest incursion with the
February Manifesto of 1899 (Finn
4). The Finnish Diet, a body of governance
for the Duchy, lost all meaningful power and the “Great
Address,” a petition with over half a million
signatures to revoke the manifesto, was ignored by
the Kremlin (Finn
5).
The overpopulation, poverty, larger number of landless
people and uncertainty of employment of southern
Ostrobothnia, the region of origin for most emigrants
to America from 1867-1892, seems to have formed the
primary reasons to uproot and move. During that period,
sixteen thousand people emigrated from Ostrobothnia
and about fifteen thousand from all the rest of Finland
combined (these figures do not include ethnic Finns
from Norway and Sweden). Ninety percent of emigrants
from Ostrobothnia worked in agriculture and ten percent
had other vocations (Finn
6). The development of industry in southernmost
Finland shifted the labor opportunities away from
rural agriculture. These economic opportunities in
industrial centers in Finland and America were in
contrast to the brutal upheaval of a population that
had nearly doubled during the preceding two generations
in northern Finnish regions such as Ostrobothnia
and Satakunta (Finn
7). Most sought employment in the growing
industries in southern Finland but a small portion
would seek opportunities in Michigan’s copper
district (Finn
8).
However, it was the Finnish (kvaenar) and Lapp (finnar
or saami) émigrés from Norway’s
northernmost Finmarken province whose recruitment
by the Quincy Mining Company, coinciding with the
height of famine in northern Scandinavia, who would
be the first to immigrate to the copper district.
Adding to 18th century emigrants from Finland to
northern Norway, Norwegian officials and English
mine managers lured Finns in the 1830’s and
1840’s (Finn
9). These immigrants were almost exclusively
followers of Pastor Lars Levi Laestadius (Finn
10). In Norway they would engage in fishing,
agriculture and copper mining. Abstinance from drink
distinguished these devout Lutherans from many of
their Finnish neighbors and may have contributed
to the English mine-owners and Norwegian officials’ choice
to employ them in the mines and other industries
of the sparsely-populated Finnnmarken or Ruija. They
joined not only 18th century Finns in Finnmarken
but an ancient Lapp (Saami) pattern of wintering
their reindeer herds on Norwegian lands and islands
of the district.
In 1864, the Quincy Mining Company recruited about
20 Finns and 80 Norwegians to Hancock, Michigan.
The Quincy Mine official, Christian Taftes, who spoke
Finnish, Norwegian and Swedish fluently and had emigrated
from the Tornio Valley, contracted the workers at
the English-owned Kaafjord and Alten mines. On May
17, 1865 a sailing ship from Trondheim, Norway departed
with 30 more kvaenar (Norwegian Finns) destined for
Quincy Mine. Landing in Quebec, a lake steamer brought
the all-male workforce into port at Hancock on the
eve of Juhanipaiva, St. John’s Day, a Finnish
holiday on June 24th (Finn
11). Although between only 700 and 1,000
Norwegian Finns immigrated, they introduced through
correspondence with family and friends in Norway,
Sweden and Finland the possibilities for relocating
in Michigan and in Minnesota. For Michigan’s
copper district, the Amerikan Suomilainen Lehti,
or the “American Finnish People” newspaper,
estimated in 1880 that fully one half of ethnic Finns
harkened from Norway and Sweden (Finn
12).
By the 1870’s some 3,000 Finns had left Scandinavia,
and from 1880 to 1886 alone, 21,000 emigrated. By
about the mid-1880’s, more were emigrating
from provinces in the Duchy of Finland itself. From
then until 1893, 40,000 more left and in that year
alone an additional 9,000 departed, most to the United
States. Although the next four years would see a
steady rate with 16,000 additional applicants, the
year of the February Manifesto’s introduction
in 1899 brought a record application for passports,
12,000, a number that would grow to a climax of 23,152
applicants in 1902 (Finn
13). The 1893 to 1920 total number of emigrants
was 274,000 people, most prior to 1914 and a small
minority being Swedish-Finns.
Although the first Finns arrived in Hancock for
Quincy Mining Company employment during the U.S.
Civil War, it was the rising star of Calumet & Hecla
Mining Company who would begin to offer the greatest
opportunities for employment both in the mine and
in surrounding business. By 1880, in the mine’s
settlement area around the Village of Red Jacket
Finns made up approximately one in five residents
or 1,800 of 9,000 persons (Finn
14). Finnish-American historical geographer
Arne R. Alanen with Suzanna E. Raker made astonishing
findings regarding Finnish institutions by this same
year:
Despite relatively small numbers, Finnish
immigrants quickly established several ethnic
institutions in Calumet, the community that emerged
as their earliest pesapaikka, or “nesting
place,” in America. By 1880 Calumet’s
Finns supported a newspaper, two churches, a
mutual aid society, a literary society, a printing
company, a lending library, a land company and
two mining companies. Finns also operated a general
store, a watchmaker-shop, nine public saunas,
and a saloon in Calumet (Finn
15).
Perhaps most remarkable is the number of institutions
that reflect the literacy and value of education
to a broad rather than just elite cadre of Finnish
immigrants. In addition to the early rise of Finnish-American
leadership in many arena’s of public education
and the first of what would be many Finnish language
newspapers (i.e. Amerikan Suomilainen Lehti published
in Calumet) in the 1870’s, the establishment
of Suomi College, now Finlandia University, in Hancock
in 1896 became the most potent symbol to both the
Finnish Lutheran communities. Suomi College was a
seminary primarily but by the early 20th century
was venturing into broader educational goals. Today
Finlandia University’s Finnish American Archives
and the Finnish-American Heritage Center’s
cultural performances and arts instillations form
the hub of the district’s Finnish immigrant
consciousness.
The high literacy of Finns came as a surprise to
many in America, both immigrant and native born,
who presupposed that like their own communities,
poverty and illiteracy often went hand-in-hand. Many
disparaged the Finns as “Mongolians,” during
a time when social-Darwinists had it that Asian,
like African, ancestry was a sub-human genus. Oskar
J. Larson was a retired U.S. Congressman from Minnesota
when he responded to a racist editorial in the Sault
Evening News in January 1932. Larson was born in
Oulu, Finland in 1871 and brought to Calumet, Michigan
in 1875, rising to the elected office of Village
of Red Jacket attorney before moving into politics
in Minnesota. In Larson’s letter-to-the-editor
he recognized the obvious use of the “Mongolian
theory” by the editor to denigrate Finnish
mental abilities and then stated, “illiteracy
in Finland is less than one per cent. It is practically
nil. In our own country it is six per cent. In your
state of Michigan it is three per cent.” English
author Ernest Young states in his 1930’s publication
Finland, Land of a Thousand Lakes, “no one
who knows anything about the Finns will deny that
they are the best educated nation in the world. Neither
Germany nor America can claim equality with them
in this respect.”
Educated or not, Finnish immigrants often felt the
sting of discrimination on a level greater than their
European-immigrant neighbors. Many mine managers
found the Finns to be resistant to integration and
slow to learn English. Local society in general harbored
suspicions about the Finns, the politics of some
and their unfamiliar customs. A settler from 1887
stated, “the old settlers looked down upon
them with the same sort of aversion as the west coast
people do on the heathen Chinee (Finn
16).” But ethnic discrimination
did not end with such statements of ignorant fear.
Corporate mine management throughout the Lake Superior
region noted the Finns disproportionate involvement
in radical labor and unionism. In letters to the
company President, Agent Charles Lawton blamed Finns
for a 1906 strike, which resulted in lost production,
increased wages and other financial losses to the
company (Finn
17). Calumet & Hecla Mining Co. General
Manager James MacNaughton wrote plainly to the Commissioner
of Immigration at Ellis Island and the U.S. Secretary
of Commerce and Labor, “we do not want Finlanders (Finn
18).”
The degree to which Finnish immigrants were distrusted
and often shunned by mine management and even the
communities into which they moved was disproportionately
high compared to their immigrant neighbors. Alanen
posits that one “unique and often controversial
manner” by which Finnish immigrants dealt with
the difficulties of life in an industrial society
occurred with the change in the loyalties and beliefs
of immigrants through the immigration period. The
conservative Lutheran orientation of the 19th century
immigrant community became augmented by the arrival
of radicalized early 20th century Finnish immigrants (Finn
19). Although socialist ideologues were
small in number in the district, particularly by
comparison to their representation amongst Finnish
immigration to Minnesota, they found a place for
labor unrest and conflict with management in the
Finnish immigrant communities employed in the industrial
mines.
In 1913, when the districts most effective work
stoppage was organized, Finnish workers played a
significant role. For instance, when the workers
organized a party for the children of strikers on
Christmas Eve at the Italian Hall in the Village
of Red Jacket and a false-call of “fire” resulted
in the stairwell-trampling and death of 73 people,
more than 50 of the deceased had Finnish surnames,
a tragic census of labor activism. Alanen and Raker
summarize the most controversial Finns who made up
a part of the final stage of immigration to the district:
During the major period of immigration an
appreciable number of the Finns who had been
radicalized by their Czarist homeland, or had
been part of Finland’s trade union movement,
joined the migration stream. These Finns, at
the least, were familiar with the basic tenets
of socialism and often expressed a willingness
to challenge the prevailing capitalist norms
of early twentieth-century America (Finn
20).
Disillusionment with industrial mining for some
and the high percentage of Finns who came with an
agricultural vocation lead many Finns to choose farming
over mining in a district where most immigrants found
the poor soil and short growing season unsuitable
for the task. The pietistic Laestadian (Apostolic)
Lutheran church leaders extolled the virtues of farming.
Alanen and Raker note an editorial directed to the
largely Laestadian readership of the Amerikan Suomalainen
Lehti that farming is the “wisest and most
natural kind of work (Finn
21).” Finnish immigrant J. H. Jasberg
in Hancock was anxious to sell land to immigrant
farmers. He admonished Finnish-immigrant men to make
sure they were wed to a healthy, hardworking wife
before starting a farm. He also gave a perspective
on the opportunities for farming that might have
brought rebuke or even smiles to the faces of immigrants
from other countries when he stated that the district
had a “healthy climate (Finn
22),” amongst other things, for the
prospective farmer.
Samuel Mattila came from northern Finland at the
age of 16 in 1902, the year of greatest emigration
from Finland. A Laestadian Lutheran, he, his four
siblings and his parents moved to Cokato, Minnesota.
When he moved to Michigan’s Copper Country,
he first worked loading copper onto Lake Superior
ships. However, his intention was to farm and in
1916 he bought a farm in Toivola, meaning “place
of hope,” and married the daughter of one of
that Finnish community’s four pioneer families,
Laura Johnson. Alanen and Raker state that the saying,
Oma tupa, oma lupa, or “One’s own home,
ones own freedom,” resonates throughout the
Finnish-American communities of North America (Finn
23). And indeed Samuel saved for this freedom.
Samuel’s father had been a Lapp reindeer herder,
his eye removed by an antler and a thumb missing
from an arctic lasso accident in winter. Samuel was
old enough when he left arctic Finland to have honed
skills for the challenges of far-northern farming.
Gordon Mattila describes his father Samuel:
He knew how to snare a partridge or a rabbit
using a root of a tree like a fine rope, and
how to set fishing weirs. He talked of building
a pulka, the sled pulled by reindeer, and of
making skis. He knew how to make healing salve
out of balsam pitch. He tried to never waste
anything and used what he had in sometimes ingenious
ways (Finn
24).
The Mattila family’s stories are characteristic
of many Finnish pioneers.
In 1920, a friend of Jacob Johnson wrote an epitaph
in his memory. The deceased immigrated to Baraga
County, founding an agricultural settlement known
as Kyro, after his placed of birth in Finland, and
later renamed Pelkie.
A strong-looking Finn has just come with his
tools and a lunch to the wilderness about ten
miles north of Baraga. He has felled his first
giant pine where his home will be built. The
sun is setting in the west. The man sits on the
fallen tree and glances about him. He sees nothing
but forest, dense wilderness, all around him.
He remembers the farms of Kyro (Finland) with
their fields of waving grain and their flower-fragrant
meadows. As his thoughts flew back there, a beautiful
church, two of them, appeared in his mind’s
eye: an ancient one out of an old fairy tale
and the other new and modern (Finn
25).
Finnish farms were carved out of the woods, like
Jacob Johnson’s and as pioneers in Toivola
or Tapiola did, or built where the copper mining
industry’s landscape-transforming support industry,
logging, left denuded forestland. The east side of
Otter Lake, for instance, was settled by Finns on
land cleared by French Canadian lumberjacks (Finn
26).
The rural backdrop to the settlements around copper
mines is the forest and the farms that Finns, primarily,
developed there. But this landscape is not static.
The once very traditional, even distinct Finnish-parrish
forms, found on kuparisaari are disappearing. Like
the Finnish traditions of hearth and home within
the once urban settlements of the district, the farms
too are transforming. Their distinctive forms, like
the lifeways of immigrant descendents, are integrating
to new norms, distant from historic practices. Perhaps
in this way, the Finnish immigration story to America
most parallels European immigration patterns. A pattern
of assimilation taught in school, rewarded at work
and encouraged by the broader culture operates in
tension with family tradition and ethnic institutions. |
Further
Readings:
Arnold R. Alanen & Suzanna E. Raker, “From
Phoenix to Pelkie: Finnish Farm Buildings in the
Copper Country,” in New Perspectives on Michigan’s
Copper Country, Kim Hoagland, Erik Nordberg and
Terry Reynolds, eds., Hancock, Michigan: Quincy
Mine Hoist Association, 2007.
Arnold R. Alanen, “Finns and the Corporate
Mining Environment of the Lake Superior Region,” Michael
G. Karni, ed., Finnish Diaspora II: United States,
The Multicultural History Society of Ontario, Toronto,
1981.
Arnold R. Alanen, “The Planning of Company
Communities in the Lake Superior Mining Region, “ Journal
of the American Planning Association, No. 45, July
1979.
Michael Karni, ed., The Finnish Experience in
the Western Great Lakes Region: New Perspectives,
Migration Studies, Turku University, Institute
of Migration.
Michael Karni, ed., Finns in North America: Proceedings
of Finn Forum III, Migration Studies, Turku University,
Institute of Migration.
A. William Hoglund, “Finns,” in Harvard
Encyclopedia of American Ethnic Groups, Stephan
Thernstrom, ed., Cambridge, Mass.: Belknap Press
1980.
A. William Hoglund, Finnish Immigrants in America,
1880-1920, New York, Arno Press “Scandinavians
in America” collection, 1979.
Armas K. E. Holmio, History of the Finns in Michigan,
translated by Ellen M. Ryynanen. Edited by Philip
P. Mason & Charles K. Hyde, Detroit: Wayne
State University Press, 2001.
Ralph J. Jalkanen, ed., The Finns in North America,
Michigan State University for Suomi College, Hancock,
1969.
Reino Kero, Migration from Finland to America
in the Years between the United States Civil War
and the First World War, Turku, Finland, 1974.
Richard Vidutis, “Finnish settlement architecture
in Michigan’s Keweenaw Peninsula: Adaptation,
evolution and restoration of forms,” Ph.D.
dissertation, Indiana University, 1991.
Gordon J. Mattila, Stories of the Early Years;
The Mattila Farm, Toivola, Michigan, 1904-2004,
Atlantic Mine, Mich., Shenanigan Press, 2004.
John I. Kolehmainen, The Finns in America: A Bibliographical
Guide to Their History, Hancock, Mich., 1947.
|