WW1 Diary – August 22, 1915

Sixth installment from the diary of my great-grandfather’s sister Alise, written during the First World War, just a few miles from the front lines of the Eastern Front. For the background, see here. If you’ve been wondering why there has been a long break from these – your answer will be found here.

August 22, 1915

We are refugees. On August 16, at 7pm, we left our home running and stumbling. Until the last moment we thought we could stay, but our hopes were dashed. We should have already prepared, because there were many signs, that we could not stay. For example, the night before at 1am, we were awoken by loud banging on the door, we awoke in fright, the soldiers were requesting axes, saws and kerosene with which to burn the ferry. The last group of refugees to cross stayed with us with all of their animals. All throughout the night there was terrible noise, running about, screaming, both people and animals. At 4am the ferry was ready, and the fire was set to it and it burned. The sight was incredible, a huge smoke cloud – and the flames on the water – our Daugava – I imagined a sinking burning ship. We started to pack important papers and belongings, and also divided the money and hid it safely. Then we returned to bed. The morning promised a nice day -everyone was still in good spirits, we took in other refugees for lunch, including the millers from the other side of the Daugava, who had paddled across in a small boat and stayed with us. After lunch, they worried about how our soldiers burned down their mill, along with a factory, the stables, the coop and all of their millers’ tools. The women – all three – worried until they fainted, the sight was terrible – one big sea of fire, which grew as the wind spread the flames along thousands of cords of wood, which had been stacked in rows along the banks of the Daugava. The Hardelis family said their goodbyes in tears, for they had been left with no home.

We packed feverishly, and our home was suddenly full of soldiers, taking things here and there, and such anger fills your soul. I asked my daughter to boil tea and eggs, the cakes were out of the oven and we were ready to eat. I put water to boil to warm the children’s baths – and then Vera runs in, who was luckily visiting with us, and told us that shrapnel had just started falling on our side of the Daugava. I grabbed the children, half-dressed and not fed, not even dressed myself, and we ran away to the old castle, where our group was able to hide. The cannonfire was so strong, that even the windows trembled. Also there the soldiers came in and out, the wind blowing in, and my children were cold. TrÅ«tiņa was able to eat, Dagmāriņa – asked for her pacifier (?) – where to get one? I went to the kitchen to the soldiers and asked them for tea and a grain of sugar. Again a commotion – in comes our Papa, red and sweating, agitated to the last straw, and told us that the servants unhooked the horses from the wagons that we needed to take the essentials with us. And so it is – everything needs to stay to be destroyed – we won’t have anything anymore, we who were used to all of life’s comforts.. the soldiers had been going through the packed boxes, tearing apart sheets and Dagiņa’s dresses to wrap their feet. They also loaded up the eggs, tea and cakes onto the table and eaten them in our place – what a terrible fate we have! Through no fault of one’s own people have to suffer so much, lose so much, that you have saved and kept for years. During this time, Father was able to get two horses for our carriage, we got in under the soldiers’ escort and drove off into the dark, towards an uncertain destiny.

I thought, it was a Saturday night, I wanted to bathe the children and put them in warm clean beds, and now, in the dark night, with empty stomachs, without a home, we need to wander… Dagmāriņa cried a lot, and my heart along with her. We arrived at the Krape estate. We waited outside, while Papa asked after a place for the night. We were welcomed warmly, the lady of the house and the girls were especially kind. But still, my mind was heavy, especially for the sake of the children. TrÅ«dÄ«te doesn’t have her books, no doll, and there is no warm place to dry Dagiņa’s pants. We stayed there two restless days. Papa went out to deliver the requisitioned animals and received some money. We stayed in the home shaking in fear because of the strong cannonfire, all of our side of Jumprava was filled with smoke. The impressions were many – the reserve soldiers staying at Krāpe held a church service under the blue sky. The soldiers sang, the cannons roared, us without our own home, without any belongings – hearts heavy – thinking, what kind of fate awaits us?

Early in the morning we headed off again, far away from everything that we had, that we had saved for a long time, away from everything that held dear memories. We were told that our matresses and duvets, our bottles of blueberries, our jam jars, were thrown about on the shores of the Daugava, to be destroyed or stolen. After some difficulties on the road, heavy winds and rain, we ended up at the NÄ«taure tavern, where we spent the night with the children in a small room. In one place, the horses were frightened of the locomotives and they almost pushed the workers into the ditches. God protected us until everything went still again. Then we headed off again.

Late in the evening we arrived at my father’s house. How wonderful it is to have this home, especially now – fate’s children without a home. In this moment we are received with warm loving hands, well fed, with warm beds. My dear small children need peace, warm milk. Thanks to God we have everything in abundance here, in God’s grace, and there is still peace, we do not hear the terrible cannons or burning fires. But for how long? All of Latvia is in chaos. Thousands of refugees have left their daily work and headed into the unknown, leaving everything that the heart has grown fond of, little can be brought along, sometimes one is unable to bring anything.

The newspapers bring horrible stories of the lives of refugees, who have overcrowded all of Russia’s cities. No work, famine, contagious diseases spreading like wildfire. Newspapers are also filled with notices of people looking for their loved ones. Men looking for their wives, parents their children, some mothers have lost their minds after losing their children on the streets. Many without homes, sleeping in tents in the forests, half-starved. Food is very expensive, rye flour already costs 250 kopecks per pood [approximately 36 pounds], butter is 75 kopecks, cottage cheese 25, and sweetened (?) for 18 kopecks, etc. Sugar, white flour, kerosene is no longer available. We will need to spend the winter with scraps (?) and black bread. We can do it, but my poor little Dagiņa has to immediately get used to rough bread, can’t get any cakes, or pieces of white bread. TrÅ«dÄ«te had better days, but still, Dagmāriņa is a strong girl, for she drinks milk heartily and eats eggs, which Grandmother pushes upon us, not considering the fact that if she were to sell them she could get 9 kopecks per egg.

May God give us health – the future will be uncertain. It will be hard, but one must try, one must be strong, to win.

Tombstone Tuesday – Jānis Opsis, 1865-1930

In this series, I am providing pictures of tombstones from Latvian cemeteries, all with death dates prior to 1945. Usually I don’t have any more information on the people, but this time I do!

Photo taken by me, April 2012. Click to enlarge.

Top Inscription: “Savam mīļam mācÄ«tājam” (“For our dear minister”)

Name: Jānis Opsis, born February 7, 1865; died January 13, 1930.

Bottom Inscription: “PateicÄ«gā Dubultu draudze. MÄ«lestÄ«ba nekad nebeigsies.” (“From the thankful Dubulti congregation. Love never ends.”)

Location: Dubulti cemetery, JÅ«rmala.

As mentioned on the tombstone, Jānis Opsis was the minister for the Dubulti Lutheran congregation in what is now the city of Jūrmala. The congregation in Dubulti had been there for awhile, but until 1903 was subject to the main church in Sloka. Population growth resulted in the splitting off of the Dubulti church. It was at this time that Jānis Opsis became the minister, serving until his death in 1930. The current Dubulti church was built under his leadership.

Ņ is for Ņižņijnovgoroda

Wow! That sure looks like a mouthful, doesn’t it? Don’t be too afraid though. This latest edition of Family History Through the Alphabet is just the Latvian name for the Russian city and oblast of Nizhny Novgorod.

Nizhny Novgorod is located in the eastern part of “European Russia”, and the oblast straddles the Volga River. The city was founded in 1221. In the modern era, the city of Nizhny Novgorod is the fifth largest city in Russia, behind Moscow, Saint Petersburg, Novosibirsk and Yekaterinburg.

Why do I mention Nizhny Novgorod in a post about Latvian genealogy? Well, during the First World War, many Latvians left their homes and moved east, seeking to escape the front lines of the war. Some of the refugees did not go far and stayed in northern Latvia, close to home but far enough away from the front to be safe. Others traveled into the far reaches of Inner Russia. A number of these refugees ended up in Nizhny Novgorod. They founded Latvian associations and worked to improve their situation as refugees.

After the war was over, the refugees began returning home. The War of Independence, as well as the chaos in Russia in the aftermath of the Russian Revolution and the ensuing Civil War, meant that the return was fraught with obstacles and often delayed, both bureaucratically and physically. It wasn’t until 1920 that many refugees were able to return home.

Being scattered across Russia meant that the refugees encountered different sides trying to convince them of different things. Nationalists insisted that Latvians return to Latvia. Meanwhile, the Bolsheviks tried to convince Latvian socialists and communists to remain in Russia rather than return to Latvia, where, they said, “life was very hard and difficult for the working people”. Some Latvians did stay. As well, while the refugees were returning to Latvia from Russia, a number of Latvian socialists and communists headed the other way into Russia and what would then become the newly established Soviet Union. Quite a few Western socialists and communists also transited through Latvia on their way to the Soviet Union.

Latvians who stayed in the Soviet Union, or went to the Soviet Union as a matter of conviction, participated in building the new Soviet state. A number became top government officials, such as Jēkabs Pēterss, one of the founders of the Cheka, and Jānis Rudzutaks, a top government minister. However, most of the Soviet Latvian officials were killed in the Great Purge in 1937 and 1938.

Next up in O… we tackle a big challenge for Latvian genealogy researchers: Orthography!

Tombstone Tuesday – Marija Stirna (born Fabricina), 1883-1930

In this series, I am providing pictures of tombstones from Latvian cemeteries, all with death dates prior to 1945. I do not have any further information on the people mentioned.

Photo taken by me, April 2012. Click to enlarge.

Name: Marija Stirna (born Fabricina), born December 1, 1883; died September 27, 1930.

Inscription: “Klāt mūža nakts, Vairs nenāks gaismas rÄ«ts, Jo dzÄ«ves uzdevums, Ir veikts un piepildÄ«ts.” (Life’s night has arrived, the light of morning will no longer come, for life’s assignment, has been done and completed.)

Location: Meža kapi (“Forest Cemetery”), RÄ«ga.

N is for New Style

Almost caught up on the Family History Through the Alphabet challenge! Today we’re talking about dates, dates and more dates – the topic is New Style vs. Old Style!

No, we’re not talking about fashions for an evening out, but rather different calendars. Up until 1918, the Russian Empire used the Julian calendar. Most European countries had already transitioned to the Gregorian calendar over a century earlier. Latvia gained independence from the Russian Empire in the years following the Russian Revolution, and also changed to the Gregorian calendar at this time.

This change in calendars is what sometimes leads to confusion regarding dates of events, particularly birthdates. In the years following independence, it was not unusual for people’s birthdates to be written in the style of “September 15/27” – first the Old Style (Julian), then the New Style (Gregorian) – to show the change, in documents such as passports and house books. Maybe this was done to slowly acclimatize people to the new dates. But it is also possible that people may have continued using the old day to celebrate anyways – I mean, if you had been celebrating your birthday on September 15 for thirty years, wouldn’t it feel strange to start doing it on September 27 now? So people may still have recorded their birthdays with different dates, depending on the documents. So if you are trying to identify someone as your ancestor, and the birthdate in a Latvian record you find is within two weeks of the date you have, then it is a good chance that the person is your ancestor (barring other people with the same name in the same place, of course).

When making these notations in English, it is common to see “(N.S.)” and “(O.S.)” to indicate the calendar being used for the date. You will often see this in Wikipedia entries regarding people who were born in the Russian Empire (see Latvian writer Rainis as an example).

Do you have any date confusions you’d like me to take a look at? Let me know!

Surname Saturday – Olympic Victors

Time to celebrate the Latvian medalists of the 2012 Olympics! This can fit in nicely with Surname Saturday – let’s take a look at their names, shall we?

The first Latvian medalists of 2012 were bronze medalists Mārtiņš Pļaviņš and Jānis SmÄ“diņš in mens’ beach volleyball!

PÄ»AVIÅ…Å  is the diminutive form of “pļava”, which means “meadow”. This is a fairly common Latvian surname. Based on the number of meadows, and the number of farm names with the name “Pļaviņas”, it is safe to say that this is a farm name borrowing. There is also a town by the name of Pļaviņas in central Latvia on the Daugava river.

SMÄ’DIÅ…Å  is a diminutive form of “smÄ“de”, which means “smithy” or “forge”. This is not as common of a surname or a farm name, though it is both. Could relate to someone who lived near a forge. It could also possibly signify an ancestor’s occupation – though the Latvian word for “smith” is “kalÄ“js”, so maybe it could be someone who worked together with the smith, but wasn’t the smith themselves? Some potential ideas.

Then we have our gold medalist in BMX cycling, Māris Štrombergs!

Å TROMBERGS is a name of Germanic origin, common amongst Latvians, as I’ve mentioned before. My German name dictionary says it relates to place names in Rhineland-Palatinate and North Rhine-Westphalia, both in the west of Germany. Literally, the name breaks down into “Strom”, meaning “power, current, stream” and “Berg”, meaning “hill”.

Do you have names of any Latvian Olympians that you’d like to share the meanings of? Wondering about the earliest Latvian Olympic medalist? Join in below in comments!

M is for Manorial Estate

This is a good one for the Family History Through the Alphabet challenge, something I mention quite a lot but I’m not sure if I’ve ever really defined… Manorial Estate!

There were two types of “estates” in pre-independence Latvian society – manorial estates and social estates. Discussion on the latter to come later when we get to “S”. The one I mention most frequently, however, is manorial estate – so when I say “estate” in a post, this is the one I’m usually talking about. The Latvian term would be “muiža”.

A manorial estate would be an estate – that is, a large piece of property – associated with a manor house. The manor house would usually be the home of the owner of the estate, or their designated steward, in the event that the owner had multiple estates and thus lived elsewhere. While the landowner owned the estate, they did not work the estate – that was the job of the peasants.

In the Baltic provinces, each estate would be divided into a number of smaller farms that were worked by the peasants (serfs prior to emancipation, tenant farmers after emancipation). Each of these farms would also have its own name. These farm names predate surnames, and in many cases, provided a source for a family’s surname. This is why certain farm names, and thus certain surnames, are extremely common – they are names that are taken from physical features of the land. It would not be unusual for many estates to have a grove of oak trees (farm name Ozoli or Ozoliņi – surname Ozols or Ozoliņš), or a lot of bushes (farm name KrÅ«mi or KrÅ«miņi – surname KrÅ«ms or KrÅ«miņš), or be on a series of small hills (farm name Kalni or Kalniņi – surname Kalns or Kalniņš). When looking at Latvian vital records, the estate and farm names will typically be recorded, so you can find where a family lived.

The peasants would work some of the land for their own subsistence, but the main job was always to work the landowner’s land. Prior to emancipation from serfdom, the peasants were also tied to the land that they worked – so if a landowner sold part of his estate to someone else, the peasants working that piece of land were transferred along with the land. After serfdom was ended, the serfs became tenant farmers. Rents were paid in goods, labour and eventually in money. Even after the move to cash rents, many landowners continued to require corvees (unpaid work), even though these were supposed to be phased out.

Starting in the 1850s and 1860s, the tenant farmers were able to buy their farms from the landowners. However, for identification purposes, the farm was still identified with the estate in documents such as birth records, land records, etc. After independence in 1918, all of the estates were expropriated by the new Latvian government. Farms were then granted to those who wished to work the land, with priority being given to veterans of the Latvian independence war. These farms were called “jaunsaimniecÄ«bas” (“new farms”), to contrast with the “vecsaimniecÄ«bas” (“old farms”), which were the peasant farms that had been bought out prior to independence.

Now, everyone did not acquire land. There were still “landless peasants”, both before and after independence. Many of these landless peasants started to migrate to the cities, and became the industrial workers. Those who remained in the countryside could either lease farms or live on farms with other families as workers. These farm workers could move regularly – this is where the revision lists come in most useful, for then you can track the movements of landless workers quite easily. By contrast, if your ancestors had become landowners, they were less likely to migrate.

The German term “Wirt” is often seen in revision lists and other documents, and while it can mean “landlord” or “owner” – that is, if the person bearing that title had bought the land from the estate – but it is also seen before that, so it is more analogous to the Latvian word “saimnieks”. I find “saimnieks” to be a difficult word to translate appropriately, because while it can mean “landlord” or “manager”, both of those terms seem to convey more authority than the “saimnieks” would have had prior to purchasing the land. But it is the best word I suppose – the “saimnieks” (or “saimniece” in the case of a woman) was the head of the farm. However, before owning the land, I don’t think holding that title provided much in the way of authority, since the landowner still had ultimate control.

Many civil parishes bear the names of what used to be the main manorial estate in the area. Some of these names later changed to become more Latvian in 1920, 1925 and 1939, so if you can’t find any information on a certain parish prior to that time period, check to see if it is one that had a name change. Some examples: Briņķi became NÄ«krāce in 1920, while Nurmuiža became Lauciene in 1939.

Do you need help identifying what estate your ancestors were from? Or which modern-day parish it is found in? Let me know, I can help!

Tombstone Tuesday – JÄ“kabs Dravnieks, 1869-1926

In this series, I am providing pictures of tombstones from Latvian cemeteries, all with death dates prior to 1945. I do not have any further information on the people mentioned.

Photo taken by me, April 2012. Click to enlarge.

Top Inscription: “Ä¢imenes kaps” (Family Grave)

Name: JÄ“kabs (Jānis’ son) Dravnieks, born October 21, 1869, died September 29, 1926.

Bottom Inscription: “Dusi saldi!” (Literally: “Rest sweetly”, colloquially: “Rest in peace”)

Location: Meža kapi (“Forest Cemetery”), RÄ«ga

Tombstone is written in partially in old orthography, my transcription is all in modern orthography.

Ļ is for Ļaudis

We’ve stumbled onto a particularly difficult letter for the Family History Through the Alphabet challenge… Ä». “Ä»” is an odd letter – sort of like the “ll” in “million”, with more of a “y” added to it.

The only word that I could come up with for this letter is a surname, “Ä»audis”. It means “people” or “folk”. I have seen it as a surname in the Smiltene area. Being technically a plural, it is not a common name. However, a related surname that I’ve seen more often has been “CilvÄ“ks”, which simply means “person”. I have seen this surname in Bauska and Lielvārde.

Want to see more unusual surnames? I’m completely revamping my Latvian Surname Project, stay tuned for its re-launch sometime soon!

What Are Your Goals?

Today I’m expanding a bit beyond my usual discussion on Latvian genealogy, to discuss a topic that is relevant to all fields of genealogy. The point of discussion – What are your goals?

It is important to define your genealogical goals when getting started. It is especially important to define your genealogical goals if you intend to hire someone to help you do your research. This helps both you and your genealogist – you get the information that is important to you, and they know where to concentrate their efforts. Everybody wins!

I’ve broken the different styles of research down into five categories, and named them according to features found on a Latvian farmstead.

“Tree” (Direct Lineage) – This is what most people think of when they think of genealogy, especially if distinguishing between “genealogy” and “family history”. Direct Lineage will give you names, dates and places of life events of direct ancestors. Other information might be nice, but it is of secondary importance to the “branches” of the tree, so to speak.

“Orchard” (Family Lineage) – A broader field than just Direct Lineage, since Family Lineage also works in brothers and sisters of ancestors and their families. This will provide a broader look at familial relationships, but it still mostly limited to branches on a tree.

“Barnyard” (FAN club – Friends, Associates, Neighbours) – Our ancestors did not live in a vacuum. They were influenced by the community around them. Where they worked, where they went to school, where they worshiped – it all left a mark on their lives. While we may not know exactly how and why our great-great-grandparents decided to marry, knowing that they had lived on neighbouring farms since childhood helps give us an idea as to how it came to be.

“Garden” (Life Cycle) – In the “Tree” and “Orchard” categories, ancestors’ lives are measured by events such as birth, marriage and death. But our ancestors had other major life events too – moving to a new home, starting a new job, etc. These events could have been more important than the ones genealogists typically measure. By embracing the “Garden” category, we look at the other aspects of an ancestor’s life, the choices they made and how that shaped the person they became and the influences they passed along to their children and grandchildren.

“Farmstead” (Whole Community) – Beyond family and friends, beyond even acquaintances, lies the rest of the world. By understanding the local history of a community, as well as the greater region and country that the community is a part of, one can understand why an ancestor did the things they did. Why a family picked up and moved across the country with a lot of small children might seem odd until you realize that there was a war raging through their home at the time, or a famine, or any number of other factors. But you don’t learn about those other factors unless you step out of the archives and into the library to consult a history book. These history books, more often than not, will then give you new resources to consult in the archives – for example, the original documents of government officials, the laws they proclaimed, and then seeing how these might have influenced your ancestors’ lives.

Why I have I decided to discuss these categories? It is important to know what is and is not possible in Latvian genealogy.

If the “Tree” or “Orchard” approaches are the ones that you are most interested in, I’m sorry to tell you that you will probably be disappointed in the pursuit of your Latvian ancestry. If your ancestors were peasants, you are unlikely to get further back than the late 1700s. Those of you in the United States might be familiar with the concept of “The Wall” in African-American genealogy, where one cannot get much further back than Emancipation (1865) because of slavery, since slaves did not have surnames or much in the way of documents relating to them as people rather than property. The same applies for serfs in the Russian Empire – prior to Emancipation (between 1816 and 1866, depending on the province), serfs had only marginally more rights than slaves in the New World. Documents regarding serfs prior to Emancipation do exist, but due to the fact that there are no surnames and only a limited pool of first names, it is almost impossible to trace families any further back.

This is why I advocate the “Barnyard”, “Garden” and “Farmstead” approaches when it comes to Latvian genealogy. Documents are such that while you might not know about a lot of ancestors, you can get to know a lot about the ancestors you do find. You can trace migration patterns, you can trace who lived on which farm and when, you can see if families traveled together. You can learn about the histories of certain parishes and estates, about the officials and barons that managed them, and thus be able to find out what kind of lives the peasants may have had. You can trace the impact that events such as the 1905 Revolution had on your ancestors’ communities, or the policies of different czars. You can read old newspapers from all over Latvia and see what kind of events your ancestors might have been talking about, or even participated in. All of this is possible. The resources are there – some online, but most are not. Languages vary, as do the places you need to go to find them all, but it is all possible.

What is your genealogical approach? Do you need help defining one? Do you need other kinds of help reaching your goals? Let me know!