Life Before America: Farming, Famine, and the Roots of Emigration

“Oh, my ancestors were just farmers.” 

Before they became Americans—before they boarded ships, before they even dreamed of leaving—they were farmers. But “just farmers” meant three very different struggles across three European worlds. David Svensson Sten, my Swedish great-grandfather David worked isolated farmsteads where winter darkness lasted 18 hours. Vasil and Anna Marcisak, my Slovak ancestors from Litmanova endured Carpathian mountain poverty at 2,200 feet. And Paul and Julianna Dubinsky, my Polish family, survived Austrian Galicia’s deliberate impoverishment. Understanding their lives before America explains why they left.

Sweden’s Scattered Farmsteads: Life After the Enclosures

When my great-grandfather David Sten left Kristianstad County, Sweden, in 1926, he departed from a landscape that had undergone dramatic transformation. The 1827 laga skifte reform had revolutionized Swedish agriculture. It dissolved traditional village clusters and created individual farmsteads scattered across the countryside.² What had once been communal villages became isolated farms. Families now lived on connected pieces of land rather than in clusters.³

The reform profoundly reshaped rural Swedish life. In 1870, two-thirds of Swedes worked in agriculture, practicing subsistence and small-scale farming combined with part-time work in fishing and forestry.⁴ While the enclosure reforms increased productivity and created wealth for some farmers, they also stratified rural society. Wealthy farmers benefited while poorer ones struggled with the costly reforms.⁵ As a result, the scattered farmstead system meant greater distances between neighbors and a more personal connection to Sweden’s dramatic seasonal rhythms.

Farming Through Light and Darkness

In southern Sweden’s Kristianstad region, farmers experienced agriculture under some of Europe’s most extreme seasonal light variations. During winter, profound darkness dominated—the sun rose as late as 9:00 AM and set by 3:00 PM, leaving only six hours of daylight in December. In contrast, summer compensated with the midnight-sun effect, when nights lasted only four hours and the sky never deepened beyond twilight. These extended daylight hours allowed intensive agricultural work during the brief growing season. However, weather success directly determined winter survival.

The documented famines of 1867–1868 drove major emigration waves when three consecutive crop failures made survival impossible. Meanwhile, Swedish agriculture during David’s childhood focused heavily on dairy production. By the turn of the 20th century, milk and dairy-related income had become the most important source of revenue for Swedish agricultural businesses. The country exported 16,000–20,000 tons of butter annually, while cereal exports largely ceased, replaced by imported grain for bread.⁶ Ultimately, this shift reflected the commercialization and market orientation that had transformed Swedish farming from subsistence to an export economy.

Slovakia’s Mountain Villages: Survival at 2,200 Feet

The rural world my Slovak ancestors knew was entirely different. Vasilius Marcisak and Anna Hurkala both came from Litmanova, a tiny mountain village perched at 670 meters (about 2,200 feet) elevation in the Carpathian Mountains of what was then the Kingdom of Hungary. In 1890, this remote community of just 760 souls lived surrounded by peaks rising over 2,600 meters—what locals called “miniature Alps.”

Mountain agriculture in the Carpathians followed ancient patterns determined by altitude and terrain. In the lower valleys where villages like Litmanova stood, families grew wheat, rye, oats, and potatoes. However, above 3,000 feet, forestry and pastoral life dominated.⁸ While the Carpathians supported traditional sheep farming and small-scale agriculture in the foothills, the challenging terrain limited productivity.⁹

Poverty and Resilience in the Carpathians

The economic reality was crushing. Even after the 1848 abolition of serfdom, 73 percent of arable land remained in the hands of nobility, while only 19 percent belonged to peasants who comprised 90 percent of the population. Most Slovak families worked plots of less than 5.8 hectares (about 14 acres); others labored as landless agricultural workers earning less than 25 cents per day. Heavy taxation consumed approximately half of their harvests, with special levies sometimes raising the burden to nearly two-thirds of total produce.

Life centered on survival and the rhythm of the seasons. Families lived in simple whitewashed cottages with thick stone walls and thatched roofs, built to withstand harsh mountain winters. Many homes had dirt floors, and several generations often shared a single room. Meat graced their tables only on Sundays and special occasions—Christmas, Easter, weddings, and christenings. The rest of the time, meals consisted of potatoes, cabbage, beans, and whatever their small garden plots could yield.

Despite this poverty, Slovak rural culture bloomed with richness. Women wore elaborate hand-embroidered clothing that took months to complete, their intricate patterns telling stories of regional identity and family heritage. The village resonated with folk songs, and their faith blended Christianity with older mountain folk beliefs rooted in the Carpathians themselves.

By the 1890s, conditions had become increasingly desperate. The 1867 Austro-Hungarian Compromise worsened life for Slovaks through aggressive Magyarization policies. Slovak schools were systematically closed, and by 1875 all Slovak secondary schools had been shut down. The language was relegated to “peasant dialect” status. For young people like Vasilius and Anna, the future looked bleak—limited land, heavy taxation, cultural suppression, and no prospects for advancement.

Polish Farmland Under Austrian Rule

While Swedish and Slovak rural life presented their own challenges, perhaps the most desperate conditions existed in Austrian Galicia. This is where my other maternal ancestors Paul Dubnianski and Julianna Knysz lived before emigrating.

Life in “Hungry Galicia”

Dubne, their village in Małopolska (Lesser Poland), sat in what was mockingly called Golicja i Głodomeria. This is a wordplay on the official name (Kingdom of Galicia and Lodomeria) incorporating the Polish words for “naked” and “hungry.”¹²

Austrian Galicia was the empire’s largest province and its poorest—and it was deliberately kept that way. The Austrian government treated Galicia as a colony. It prevented industrialization and maintained it as an agricultural supplier for the rest of the empire. Agricultural productivity ranked among the lowest in Europe. Peasants used primitive techniques little different from those of the Middle Ages.¹³

The economic reality was brutal. Galicia experienced recurring famines throughout the 19th century—in 1804–1806, 1811–1813, 1832, and 1844–1848.¹⁴ The province’s agricultural output couldn’t support its population, and the Austrian imperial government showed little interest in reform that might upset the profitable system in which Galicia provided agricultural goods and served as a market for inferior industrial products.

Paul departed Dubne in 1903, leaving Julianna and their children behind in this desperate landscape. Like thousands of Polish peasants, he fled discriminatory taxation, limited educational opportunities (only 15 percent of peasants attended any school), and virtually no chance for land ownership. After three years of separation—a sacrifice endured by countless immigrant families—Julianna followed in 1906, traveling through Bremen with children Michael and Mary to reunite in Lower Yoder, near Johnstown, Pennsylvania.

Their escape from Galician poverty led to different dangers. On June 29, 1912, just nine years after his arrival, Paul was struck and killed by a locomotive at age 37. Industrial accidents were tragically common in coal country, where trains constantly moved through communities. When Julianna died in 1920 at age 49, my grandfather George was orphaned at age ten—carrying forward alone the memory of Polish farmland his parents had fled.

The Records They Left Behind

Understanding these ancestors’ rural lives required diving deep into the records that documented their existence.

For Sweden, parish records at ArkivDigital proved invaluable. Household examination books (husförhörslängder) tracked families’ movements, literacy, and Bible knowledge. These revealed David Sten’s family in Näsum, moving among scattered farmsteads before their emigration.

The Slovak evidence came from The Carpathian Connection, FamilySearch church registers, and immigration records that told of mountain baptisms, marriages, and the transatlantic journeys that followed.

Polish records opened another window into pre-emigration life. Parish registers from Austrian Galicia (often held today in the Polish State Archives) document births, marriages, and deaths in Dubne, showing how families like the Dubnianskis and Knyszs survived famine years. Passenger lists and Ellis Island manifests trace Paul’s 1903 voyage, while Pennsylvania church and civil records reveal how quickly the family’s story shifted—from Galician farmland to American coal towns. Together, these records preserve the final echoes of rural life before America transformed their descendants’ paths forever.

Why Rural Matters

Too often we dismiss our farming ancestors as “just” farmers, overlooking the rich stories embedded in their agricultural lives. But rural records reveal far more than occupation—they show resilience, adaptation, and the forces that shaped migration patterns.

David Sten’s 1926 emigration wasn’t random. It followed his siblings who had already established themselves in America, creating a chain migration pattern enabled by Sweden’s agricultural transformation. The enclosure reforms that had created isolated farmsteads also pushed excess rural population toward emigration as mechanization and commercialization reduced the need for farm labor.

Vasilius and Anna’s 1901 escape from Litmanova represented a different but equally powerful push. The combination of land scarcity, crushing taxation, and cultural oppression made staying in Slovakia nearly impossible. Their journey from mountain village to Pennsylvania coal town traded one form of hardship for another—but at least in America, their children would have opportunities that Austria-Hungary denied them.

When we explore our rural ancestors’ lives, we’re not just noting that they were farmers. We’re uncovering the economic systems, environmental challenges, and social transformations that shaped their decisions. We’re discovering that those “simple” farmers survived conditions most of us can’t imagine. They made choices that created the very possibility of our families’ futures.

That’s not “just” anything. That’s everything.

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Fellow genealogists: have you traced your own farming roots?

Whether Swedish, Slovak, Polish, or beyond, I’d love to hear how rural life shaped your family’s story. Add your insights below or link to your own #52Ancestors post!

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1. Péter Gudella, “Cultivated Fields Above: Aerial View of Agricultural Fields in Southern Sweden,” Dreamstime (https://www.dreamstime.com/stock-photo-cultivated-fileds-above-aerial-view-agricultural-fields-southern-sweden-image71462576 : accessed 2 November 2025), image ID 71462576. ↩︎
2. Hans Högman, “Swedish History – Agricultural Yields Formerly,” hhogman.se (https://www.hhogman.se/agricultural-yields-formerly.htm : accessed 2 November 2025). ↩︎
3. Europeana, “Farming Landscapes in Scandinavia,” Europeana Stories (https://www.europeana.eu/en/stories/farming-landscapes-in-scandinavia-how-industrial-agriculture-transformed-rural-life : accessed 2 November 2025). ↩︎
4. Ibid. ↩︎
5. M. Olsson and P. Svensson, “The Wealth of the Swedish Peasant Farmer Class (1750–1900): Composition and Distribution,” Rural History, Cambridge Core (https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/rural-history/article/wealth-of-the-swedish-peasant-farmer-class-17501900-composition-and-distribution/608A547240E24E4AB60482B2335B4E09 : accessed 2 November 2025). ↩︎
6. “Agriculture in Sweden,” Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Agriculture_in_Sweden : accessed 2 November 2025). ↩︎
7. Oleksii Nykonchuk, “Aerial View of a Small Village in Slovakia near the Tatra Mountains,” Dreamstime (https://www.dreamstime.com/aerial-view-small-village-slovakia-tatra-mountains-image166299543 : accessed 2 November 2025), image ID 166299543. ↩︎
8. “Carpathian Mountains – Economy, Resources, Tourism,” Encyclopaedia Britannica (https://www.britannica.com/place/Carpathian-Mountains/The-economy : accessed 2 November 2025). ↩︎
9. Ultimate Kilimanjaro, “Carpathian Mountains: Everything You Need to Know” (https://www.ultimatekilimanjaro.com/carpathian-mountains-everything-you-need-to-know/ : accessed 2 November 2025). ↩︎
10. Women in Traditional Slovak Costumes, photograph, date unknown; privately held by Kirsten M. Max-Douglas, Blue Ash, Ohio, 2025. ↩︎
11. Maxim Weise, “South Poland Panorama with Snowy Tatra Mountains in Spring,” Dreamstime (https://www.dreamstime.com : accessed 2 November 2025), image ID 66773763. ↩︎
12. “Poverty in Austrian Galicia,” Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Poverty_in_Austrian_Galicia : accessed 2 November 2025). ↩︎
13. “Famines in Austrian Galicia,” Wikipedia (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Famines_in_Austrian_Galicia : accessed 2 November 2025). ↩︎
14. Ibid. ↩︎