Sweden's Dire Famine

Description of Suffering in the Stricken District

Relief is barely adequate

Mothers unable to properly nourish their babes--no fodder to feed cattle--families of eight often found living in wretched huts.

A correspondent of the London Mail, writing from Pajala, Sweden, under the date of Feb. 21, says:

I have now reached a point forty-five miles within the arctic circle, and to send this message necessitated a drive of forty miles to the nearest telephone office, from which it would be telephones to Haparanda.

I crossed the arctic circle in a blinding snowstorm on the way from Matarengi to Korpilombolo. During a sledge tour of the district I noted on all sides evidences of a starving population. The temperature was 6 degrees below zero, which was considered a mild day in this locality.

The population consists of about 2,000 persons scattered over a wide area. Practically nine out of every ten are in want and are barely existing on the starvation allowance of the relief stations. The majority of the people have not tasted meat since the autumn and have has but little of the sour skimmed milk which constitutes, with a black Swedish barley meal bread, their main sustenance. Many cattle have had to be killed on account of the lack of fodder. The relief food in this district will give out shortly and if more is not then forthcoming the people must inevitably starve.

The local sheriff and the pastor told me that they estimated it would require about £7 ($35) to supply an average family of six with just sufficient food to keep them alive until June, which is the sowing time. During the same period fodder for each cow would cost £9 ($45). Both the sheriff and pastor regard the immediate future with the gravest apprehension. All relief food has to be carried about seventy miles after leaving the railway.

During my journey on Saturday I saw some most depressing sights. In many cases a family of eight are living in a small hut, such as would not be used for sheltering cattle in England. They have scarcely any furniture and their beds are but a heap of rags. Despite the terrible cold these poor people are too impoverished to be able to afford proper windows, and the chinks between the logs are often very inadequately stuffed with moss and paper.

One may imagine the horrible condition of the single roomed dwellings. In one hut in Korpilombolo, I saw two teacups would round with string. They were the only crockery in the place. The huts are picturesque to look at, but they hide a woeful amount of destitution and hopeless misery.

In many cases babies are so emaciated on account of their mothers being too weak to afford them sustenance that in all probability scores of them will die before the summer. The nearest doctor to Korpilombolo lives at a distance of forty-nine miles.

I visited two villages ten miles apart in the forest. In one hut I found seven motherless children. Their father walked to Gellivare, over 100 miles away to find work some months ago, but has not returned, and in the meantime the children have been kept alive by the aid of the neighbors as poor as themselves. The little ones are in charge of Anna, the eldest girl, who is only thirteen. and the youngest is four. The older children are stinting themselves for the sake of the younger. The same poverty prevails in all the huts around.

In the other village I found a woman melting snow for drinking water, of which the supply is very short. The bread had nearly given out, and the villagers were overwhelmed with joy when supplied with some more. Several starving folk  begged for food from me at Korpilombolo. I gave them bread and meat, and an old woman, nearly blind and barely able to walk, wept tears of joy when given meat, of which she had not eaten since the summer.

Another woman became almost hysterical with joy when given preserved meat and expressed her thanks in the form of blessings in Finnish.