In the late 19th century, the "Old Immigration" gave way to the "New Immigration."

And both impacted Leelanau.

CENTRAL AND EASTERN Europe as it appeared in the
years when Bohemians, Poles and others had immigrated
to Leelanau County. The heavy black lines in the
1898 map indicated a “future possible partition” of
Austria-Hungary. The map has since been redrawn
and redrawn again, particularly in the Balkan Peninsula.

The Old Immigration took in the greater part of the century. Most of the newcomers to this country during this phase hailed from the British Isles, Germany and Scandinavia.

In most instances, they weren’t so different from native-born Americans and they were rather quickly assimilated. In Leelanau, a number of Germans settled on South Manitou Island, while Norwegians settled in Suttons Bay, Northport, and Empire.

After mid-century, an increasing number of “New” immigrants began arriving. These immigrants, from southern and eastern Europe, were, generally speaking, less readily assimilated than the earlier arrivals – at least when they settled in established cities.

One early settlement “wave” in Leelanau County had elements of both the old and new immigration. When North Unity (northeast of Glen Arbor) was settled by immigrants who had first been in Chicago (a common pattern) in 1855, they hailed from both Germany and Bohemia.

“Czechs and Germans lived together on very friendly basis,” one of the pioneers reported to a Bohemian Chicago newspaper in an account that told of the difficulties encountered in carving out homesteads in the northern wilderness.

In the decades to follow, more Bohemians would arrive in Leelanau, as well as a number of Poles, although Poland didn’t even exist as an independent state at the time.

The North Unity group had included “one Polish duke, refugee of Russia.”

Country-wide, the “new immigration” was well under way in the expansive period following the Civil War.

Many immigrants wound up in Chicago, where they either stayed or moved farther west. Michigan wanted some of these people for its growing agricultural and industrial economy and immigrants were encouraged to come to the state.

“Advertisements” were circulated in Europe, and special publications and pamphlets were printed.

One of the latter, issued by Lansing in 1914, lamented a loss of manpower by noting that “thousands of good men who would gladly have come, or remained, in Michigan, and assisted in the development of our lands, had Michigan’s opportunities and possibilities only been brought to their attention.”

In Leelanau, immigrant Polish families were numerous enough to result in Polish being used in school in the county for a number of years.

But, in the long run, it didn’t matter whether county residents were Poles or Bohemians, Norwegians or Germans, First Wave or later, Old or New immigration. They were now all Americans, and what had made them different was left behind in Europe.

Ironically, a few decades later, a newer generation of Americans would be drawn back to Europe in a world war when brethren left behind were unable to settle their differences amicably. And soldiers were drawn back once again two decades after that, following Pearl Harbor.

Those remaining in the Old World – or at least their leaders – just couldn’t seem to get along. But that’s also one of the reasons the United States received so many immigrants in the first place. Revolution, conscription, poverty and the perception of America as a land or riches – or at least opportunities – drove the engine of European emigration.

In the 1880s, a number of Bohemians were employed by the Leland Iron Company. Later, they developed farms north of Leland and established St. Wenceslaus Church, where a state historic plaque calls attention to the unique Bohemian markers in the old cemetery.

In the 19th century, Bohemia – which was later to become part of Czechoslovakia – was part of the Austro-Hungarian empire. The dual empire encompassed a number of nationalities and was politically unstable long before the dawn of the 20th century.

An article in the January 1898 issue of the Review of Reviews, attributed to simply “An Austrian,” speculated on “The Future of Austria-Hungary” and proved to be quite prophetic.

The empire, with capitals in both Vienna and Budapest, incorporated people of many nationalities and languages. In an increasingly modern era, it had become unwieldy and politically obsolete. The unidentified “Austrian” concluded his article with the following two paragraphs:

“Will Russia be strong enough to incorporate Bohemia, Moravia and Silesia into her domains, and thus form a thorn in the heart of a future Germany? Will it sooner or later swallow the whole of the Balkan Peninsula? The answer to these questions lies too far off.

“But the sooner Europe familiarizes herself with the prospect of a division of the Austro-Hungarian monarchy the better for the peace of the world. The conditions of the doomed country are such that they need only the spark in the powder barrel. The powder is there.”

Fifteen years later, in the summer of 1914, a “spark” did indeed ignite the powder barrel.

The first of two world wars began in Austria-Hungary, which, was indeed “doomed.”