The Sons’ Career and Occupational Continuity
In the artisan’s world, marriage and the practice of trade were interconnected. Typically, marriage coincided with the start or establishment of an independent career. It was rare to have married apprentices or journeymen in an artisan’s household.23 Especially in towns, artisans needed a wife who would look after the shop and the commercial side of the craft.
This was also evident in rural areas, where the whole family’s contribution was needed in household chores, even though there were no commercial workshops in rural areas of Finland. Unmarried artisans were a rarity in both the towns and the countryside (Laakso 1974, 125; Edgren 1987, 180–181, 205).Along with marriage came children. On average, artisans in Hollola had only 1.5 children (see Table 5.1). Sometimes there was just one surviving child. Smiths had the most children, with shoemakers and artisans in specialised trades having the least, but the number of children was related to the number of artisans. There were slightly more daughters (111) than sons (105) (see Tables 5.2 and 5.3), but the proportion is quite the same among different trades. Thus, it is evident that not all artisans had a son who could inherit the family business. For example, every third smith had no son of his own. As there were not enough artisans’ sons to answer the growing demand for artisans, most craftsmen came from other social groups.24
In Hollola, only fifteen percent of artisans were childless, and just a few were unmarried.25 In some cases, the couples could not have children, while in other cases, their offspring did not live to adulthood. Succession could then be arranged in other ways, such as by adopting a child.
The smith Erik Salomonsson had a specific way of arranging his succession. His only child was stillborn in 1780. He did have a large kin group, however, and he apprenticed two of his nephews, but neither of them inherited the fortune or the position of the wealthy smith.
In his later years, Erik Salomonsson took on another apprentice, this time from outside the family circle, and made him his heir. The smith’s last will and testament was authenticated by the local district court in 1822. The will’s phrasing confirms that the purpose of the transaction was to secure the smith’s and his wife’s provision in old age (Hollola District Court, winter 1822:§ 12). The heir, Anders Matsson, was obligated to take care of the elderly couple; in return, he would receive the old smith’s position and tools along with other belongings. This is a rare example, but it was one possible solution for childless artisan couples, although it was perhaps more common to adopt children when they were younger.Table 5.1 Artisans’ families with children in Hollola, 1780–1820
In the career patterns of rural artisan’s sons, following one’s father’s footsteps was the most common option (Laakso 1974, 113–117). At least half of the smiths’ sons went on to practise handicrafts, most frequently in the same trade as the father; in other trades, the likelihood was a little lower. In shoemaking, the succession rate was only a third, but in the area of Hollola, there were only a few official shoemakers (see Table 5.2). Some hesitation concerning the figures arises because a fifth of the boys’ career choices remains unclear, mostly because they moved away from the parish. Some of them might have achieved artisan status, but it has not been possible to take this into account in the figures. It is noteworthy that most of the sons still stayed in their home parish, which strengthens the perception of this being a stationary community, even though artisans and their apprentices have generally been seen as a very mobile group (Tommila 1959, 203–205; Rosenberg 1966, 55–56).
In general, an occupation was more likely to be passed on in a trade that required more capital to start up and practise (Daniels 1995, 4; Juutila 1997, 148–151).
In rural Hollola, there were a few smith dynasties in which almost all sons were trained; they not only inherited their fathers’ equipment and working area, but they also acquired official positions in other villages, too. For instance, the Herkepeus family were the only smiths in one village for several generations.26 As such, it is one example of a closed group into which no outside apprentices were recruited.Table 5.2 The career patterns of rural artisans’ sons (born 1780–1820) in Hollola (percentage)
The previously mentioned Erik Salomonsson was also a smith’s son who had two brothers, both qualified smiths. Erik was recruited to become the smith in the village of Okeroinen, his older brother in another village, and the youngest of them was destined to stay with their father. For a while, there were three brothers working in the same parish but in different villages. Unfortunately, Erik’s brothers and father died in the epidemics that followed the Russo-Swedish War in the 1780s, and Erik was left with the duty of training his brothers’ sons in the family trade.27
Only one person per family paid the craft tax, so the head of the family alone was registered according to his trade. It was customary that the son received the artisanal title only after the death of his father or after establishing a household of his own. This could take a decade or even longer. For example, the youngest of above-mentioned Salomonsson brothers was not registered as a smith but as the son of a smith, even though he worked alongside with his father. In fact, he never achieved the artisanal title because he passed away a few months before his father. The smith Gustaf Herkepeus represents an extreme example: he was over forty years old before he gained independent status.
One factor that had an influence on the strong sense of continuity was locality—rural smiths were taught by other rural smiths.
In Hollola, only one boy who was sent to town to learn the smiths trade returned to serve the parish, and this exception to the rule was a farmer’s younger son. In other trades, urban training was a more common phenomenon.28 For instance, when the tailor Erik Holmberg wanted his offspring to receive better training, he sent his youngest son to the town of Hämeenlinna to learn from the guild master there. Holmberg’s elder son also sent his own son to Hämeenlinna, most likely to learn the tailor’s trade.The practice of training rural artisans’ sons in towns to gain them more prominent positions was not a prevailing custom, however. More often, artisans trained their own sons.29 Frequently, this was question of means; training one’s own son and at the same time acquiring a working partner for a number of years was the cheaper option. In addition, not everyone had the necessary connections in towns to place their sons in the hands of the guild masters.
Sometimes, the son of an artisan inherited his father’s position very publicly. There are a number of court cases where father first petitioned for permission to give up his position and then pleaded for his son to be taken as his successor as the next parish artisan. Occasionally, the exchange was arranged in a suitably timely manner, with the father quitting and the son then applying for the vacant position (Province of Uusimaa and Häme; Province of Kymenkartano). For instance, the tailor Gabriel Lindfors resigned from his parish tailor position in the local district court, after which his son asked to be taken on as parish tailor (Hollola District Court, autumn 1820:§ 168 and § 169). This confirms the widespread desire for occupational continuity. It also reinforced the perception of social stability. The absence of a father did not make the situation hopeless, either, as the careers of the sons of the tailor Moses Lindqvist indicate. Lindqvist died before his eldest son was fifteen, but two of his sons learned the tailor’s trade.30 It is likely that the older boy might have already received his initial training from his father and that he also continued his training with other masters.
This was not unusual; when the artisans’ father was unable to teach his own son, his colleagues would often come to the rescue.Even if it was common for the sons of smiths and tailors to follow their father’s trade, it was not the only option. Sometimes there was a tendency to educate a son for a more appreciated occupation (Humphries 2003, 96; De Munck and Soly 2007, 20). For instance, the mason Mats Häggsted had three sons. He trained his oldest son to be his partner in masonry and carpentry—they were in such close partnership that in the records it is often difficult to distinguish the father and the son from each other. The middle son was sent to learn the trade of hat making. He returned to Hollola and acquired the status of parish hat maker. The youngest son went to Helsinki to become a smith. He became a smith’s journeymen and most likely earned his living this way because he did not return to Hollola. The smith Johan Westerberg also trained his oldest son as a smith but sent his second son to learn the founder’s trade in Helsinki.
Occupational continuity was naturally dependent on the son’s virtues and flaws. The boy was not always suitable or willing to inherit the family trade (De Munck and Soly 2007, 19). Perhaps Gabriel Lindfors’ oldest son was not suitable for the tailor’s profession because he became a soldier. He was not, however, a common foot soldier but a corporal. Overall, a third of the sons who stayed in Hollola did not follow in their fathers’ footsteps—in other words, they were not entered into the records with artisan’s titles. This does not necessarily mean that they had not learned or practised crafts; there are just no sources to prove they did. On the contrary, it was highly economical to transfer craft knowledge to the next generation—the skills and ability to do crafts were nevertheless useful—even if the son did not become an artisan by profession (Edgren 1987, 192: Humphries 2003, 90–91, 95; De Munck and Soly 2007, 20–22).
When artisans’ sons did not inherit the craft profession, the reason was seldom due to upward mobility. If it was, then in the countryside it was a move to become a land-holding farmer. For instance, smith Mats Mattson’s son married the daughter of a farmer and was able to raise his status through a favourable marriage. The tailor Gustaf Halin had twin sons born in 1817, but neither of them followed their father’s trade. One became a miller and one a land-holding farmer, again due to a favourable marriage.31 Most of the connection to farming, however, involved becoming a tenant farmer. Usually, this involved renting a part of a farm, a croft. This was not very bad position; on the contrary, artisans and tenant farmers have often been deemed socially close to each another. Becoming a crofter was a common phenomenon, even among official artisans, because it was a way of ensuring a living. Farmers could both practise a craft and do agricultural work. For instance, the son of the tailor Joran Rolig became the tenant farmer of a croft that Rolig had received from his family. Likewise, the only son of shoemaker Carl Ronnberg set himself up as a tenant farmer, again on the croft that his father had already farmed.
A drop-in status was also possible; there was a son in every trade who did not succeed as well as his father. These sons usually first ended up as hired hands or farmhands; later their title changed, indicating a position of landless agricultural worker. In other words, they joined the ranks of itinerant people in rural areas who, when they did not have an indenture, did short-term work to make ends meet. At the beginning of the nineteenth century, artisans’ sons could also choose a soldier’s career, but that route was soon blocked because the Finnish army was disbanded when Finland fell under Russian rule in 1809. Overall, artisans’ sons quite seldom ended up in a position lower than that of their fathers’; on average, less than twenty percent experienced downward mobility (Juutila 1997,159–160).