The Swedes

In February 1922, the Providence Journal’s society page carried an enchanting account of the 26th annual Swedish Workingmen’s Benefit Association masquerade ball. Calling the lavish event at Rhodes on the Pawtuxet “a scene of variegated color and motion,” the story gushed that “Valkyries and cowboys, Martha Washingtons and Mexican guacharos danced and capered side by side. At one moment you were confronted by Robinson Crusoe, the next instant you met a courtier from the period of Louis XVI. ... Representatives of every clime and every century danced to their hearts’ content.”

Indeed, the ball’s varied pleasures encapsulated the Swedish immigrant experience in Rhode Island. Just as masquerade revelers enthusiastically claimed classic American icons like Martha Washington as their own, the small community of Swedes who migrated to Rhode Island in the early 20th century adopted much of American culture, often assimilating nearly seamlessly into New England society. 

But like the odd valkyrie amid a sea of Martha Washingtons, Swedes in Rhode Island maintained markers of their mother culture, proudly marrying Swedish culture with that of their new home. 

Still, most early Swedes in Rhode Island heavily favored Martha Washingtons over the valkyries. The majority were seamen who married local women and quickly abandoned their native culture. And slowly, as the 19th century wore on, and a grinding famine in Sweden propelled migration to America, a tiny Swedish colony formed in Rhode Island — initially around the hospitality of a sea captain named Zakarias Vennerbeck, who for reasons that have been lost to history later changed his last name to Peterson. 

He and his wife, Ottilia, settled in Providence in 1837 and shortly thereafter had the distinction of giving birth to the first child born to Swedish parents in Rhode Island, Ellen Charlotta Peterson. Through his business connections, Peterson made the acquaintance of a Mr. Thurber, a land owner of considerable wealth, and subsequently had the distinction of erecting the first house built by a Swede in Rhode Island, at the corner of Thurbers Avenue and Ocean Street. 

The house was large enough to accommodate the Petersons’ 11 children and nearly every Swedish immigrant who sailed into Providence. The house became a kind of Swedish Ellis Island, a gateway through which Swedish immigrants passed on their way to becoming full members of Rhode Island’s growing community of Swedish ex-patriots.

After the Civil War the pace of immigration picked up considerably, and the Swedish population in Rhode Island started to swell, soon outgrowing the Petersons’ home on Thurbers Avenue. 

With its growth, the nexus of the Swedish community in Rhode Island shifted from the Petersons’ house to a flurry of cultural and religious groups. No fewer than 25 fraternal lodges sprung up, as well as a number of Lutheran churches with predominately Swedish congregations. 

The Swedish Workingmen’s Benefit Association — whose annual masquerade ball was a staple of Swedish social life — was among the largest of these cultural organizations. In September 1926 the organization dedicated its spacious new building at the corner of Chestnut and Pine streets with a festive calendar of events that included music, the singing of the Swedish Choruses and plenty of speechmaking. Equipped with the latest amenities, including oil heating, a kitchenette and an assortment of modern appliances, the building was a point of pride for members of the Swedish community in Providence.

The Swedish migration to Rhode Island began in earnest in the late 1860s and continued through World War I, with the bulk of Swedish immigrants settling in the residential districts on the southern and western districts of downtown Providence, plus Elmwood and Washington Park. Enclaves of Swedish populations sprung up around the city: Smith Hill became “Swede Hill” to Swedes; Cranston’s Eden Park became “Sweden Park.”

By the middle of 1935 there were 6,181 Swedish-born citizens living in Rhode Island, and another 7,936 Rhode Island residents who were born to Swedish parents — a relatively small number, to be sure. Though Swedes have never played a particularly large role in the story of European immigration to New England — most of the Swedish who migrated to America were agriculturalists who skipped over the East Coast and settled instead in the nation’s rich Midwestern farmland — their small chapter in the history of Rhode Island is a vibrant one, filled with quiet stories of family, community and hard-won success.

There was the Carlen family, Anton and Martina, who immigrated to Rhode Island to escape famine in Sweden and secured jobs at the Brown & Sharpe Manufacturing Company, a toolmaker and large employer of Swedes. They bought a small but tidy home at 139 Althea St., where they led quiet lives that revolved around their work at the factory and meetings in the evenings at the Swedish Workingmen’s Benefit Association and the Raynar Lodge. When their infant daughter, Ebba Carlen, died at nine months, the Swedish Workingmen’s Benefit Association took up a collection to provide the Carlens’ baby girl a proper tombstone. Her grave reads “Erected by members of the Swedish Workingmen’s Association.” The Carlens are buried side by side in Grace Church Cemetery.

Though the vast majority of Swedes led altogether ordinary lives, more than a few found spectacular success and riches in America. George F. Berkander, who immigrated to Rhode Island from Västergötland, Sweden, with his parents, Hans and Anna, in 1891, when he was 9 years old, built one of the largest manufacturers of costume jewelry in the world, Berkander Manufacturing, located in Providence’s Jewelry District. 

Berkander is credited with popularizing plastic jewelry in America, as he developed a means of manufacturing low-cost plastic ornaments that resembled more expensive jewelry made of traditional materials. At its height his factory took in 15 to 20 tons of celluloid a 

week and turned out more than 145,000 plastic bracelets a day, not to mention thousands of brooches, necklaces and other baubles. Berkander had a knack for devising ways of crafting jewelry out of unconventional (and inexpensive) materials, at one point developing a process for making buttons and brooches out of pinecones harvested on Cape Cod. At the height of the fashion’s popularity Berkander was harvesting 100,000 pinecones a year.

Though atypical in his entrepreneurial success, Berkander was like so many Swedish Americans in his devotion to the Rhode Island Swedish community. In August of 1926 he was made a Knight of the Order of Vasa, the Swedish equivalent of the French Legion of Honor, by the King of Sweden for his charitable work to aid Swedish Americans. Berkander Manufacturing created a special boutonnière, in the form of a mayflower, sold throughout the United States, the proceeds from which went to aid Swedish Americans suffering from tuberculosis. Berkander was also instrumental in funding the construction of Washington, D.C.’s John Ericsson Memorial, which commemorates the contributions of the Swedish to American culture.

Berkander lived at 65 Adelaide Ave., in a Swedish community, with his wife, Esther. He died of a heart attack at his home on Aug. 24, 1926. The Berkanders are buried alongside each other in the Grace Church Cemetery.