The History of the German-Russian Wrought Iron Cemetery Cross

The tradition of wrought-iron-cross cemetery art goes back to the 1600’s in Austria and Bavaria. Blacksmiths in Tyrol and upper Austria made the first handcrafted iron cemetery crosses. This art form seems to have become pervasive among European peoples, but only some of them transferred it to the North American Plains. Ukrainians Métis, Germans-from-Hungary and Germans-from-Russia are among those who brought this tradition with them to the New Country.

Large-scale immigration of German-speaking settlers into Russia began in 1762 with the ascension of Catherine the Great to the Russian throne. The Czarinas manifesto offered Western Europeans willing to farm in Russia free land, local self-government and freedom from military service. In 1764, the first great wave of German-speaking agricultural settlers journeyed to the lower course of the Volga River in Russia. By 1897, the immigrant population of that area numbered more than 1.7 million. After Catherine’s death, the fortunes of German settlers declined under less sympathetic Russian rulers and in the late nineteenth century, Catherine’s manifesto was rescinded. Between 1872 and 1914, 300,000 Germans-from-Russia obtained passports and began their migration to America. Most preferred the open spaces of the Great Plains and it was on these plains that Germans-from-Russia in America maintained their language and culture. Their story is predominately that of the Catholic Black Sea and Volga German-Russians who came to the steppes of the New World from the steppes of the old South Russia. They brought with them the iron grave cross tradition, which originated during the Renaissance when iron work was popular and the cross became the principal symbol of the Christian faith.

The making of hand crafted iron crosses flourished in Germany during the Renaissance period when highly decorated ironwork was everywhere in evidence. In the eighteenth century the Rococo style characterized by its emphasis on curvilinear designs and asymmetrical arrangement greatly influenced the wrought iron art of German smiths. During the Rococo area, iron grave crosses were particularly popular and were noted for being unusually elaborate. At the time that the two great German migrations to Russia took place (1760’s and early 1800’s), the wrought iron cross tradition was well established and a significant number of the Catholic German immigrants traced their roots to the Alsace, Pfalz,and Bavaria areas where wrought iron crosses were fairly common. Most were in predominantly Catholic areas and this continued to be the case in both the Old and the New Worlds until as late as the 1930’s.

Wrought iron crosses were most popular in North Dakota from the 1880’s to about 1925. They are a recognized and distinctive feature of Great Plains folk life. These treasures are getting fairly well known and no state has as many examples of wrought-iron crosses as North Dakota. The largest number can be found in the so-called German-Russian Triangle, which comprises the north-central and south-central portions of the state. They, as in the Old Country, exhibit distinctive designs and traditional symbols.

Germans-from-Russia planted thousands of crosses across a 1500-mile span of America’s prairies from the state of Kansas to Alberta, Canada. The greatest concentrations of wrought iron crosses are among the Volga Germans of Western Kansas and adjacent areas, the Black Sea Germans of South Dakota and North Dakota, and the German Russians living in the provinces of Saskatchewan and Alberta in Canada, who were mostly second-stage immigrants from the Dakotas.

Many observers tend to view the iron crosses as particular to the Germans-from-Russia. Actually iron crosses can be found among ethnic groups of many diverse backgrounds, ranging from the Bohemians and the Irish to the Turtle Mountain Chippewa. In South Mexico the iron crosses are decorated in late October. People bring food and even portable TV’s to the gravesite and visit with relatives and friends throughout the night. They believe the bonds of family are stronger than death itself. For the Germans-From-Russia of North Dakota, iron crosses reaffirm and celebrate family ties.

It was during the long, slow-paced months of winter that many Germans Russian blacksmiths turned their attention from repairing wagons and sharpening plow shares to that of highly artistic, decorative iron work. Foremost among the German-Russian blacksmiths of central North Dakota was the art of making wrought iron grave crosses or “schmirdeeiserne grabkreuze” The wrought iron cross of German-Russia was made primarily for the purpose of marking and identifying gravesites. In this sense, they were practical objects constructed for a specific purpose. Yet the crosses represented more than mere grave markers, as evidenced by the fact few German-Russians were satisfied with two simple bars of forged welded iron to mark the resting places of their loved ones. In most cases, hand crafted iron crosses were embellished with decorative features, ranging from small heart-shaped pieces of iron to delicately fashioned metal roses.

In designing their iron crosses, German Russian blacksmiths were guided by two forces that had to counterbalance: cultural tradition and individual creativity. The smiths were allowed to experiment and deviate from the commonly accepted cross styles but ultimately they had to satisfy the public, for it was customers who bought (or traded for) the wrought iron crosses. Nonetheless, individual German-Russian blacksmiths in central North Dakota, working within a cultural tradition, developed their own cross styles and their work was known for miles around them. Each smith had his own preferred styles and designs and although he rarely signed his creation, the crosses he constructed were so distinctive that astute observers still can identify the maker today. In most cases they are symmetrical in appearance creating a sense of order in the face of the disruptive forces of chaos, grief, and death itself.

While German Russian wrought iron crosses are clearly related to Christian religious beliefs and practices, they seemed to counter the disconsolate message of the church’s black vestments and songs of final farewell. Classic symbolic reminders of death and mortality (e.g., skeletons, crossbones, hourglasses, weeping willows) were never incorporated into the iron crosses. The art of the smith taunts death, denying its sting with unbroken hearts of metal, sunburst designs, brightly painted stars, banner waving angels, endless circles, and exquisitely formed lilies and rose blossoms that rust but never wilt evoking the exuberant, defiant spirit of their makers. The ornaments are emblems of life, not death. A local blacksmith, who typically fashioned the iron grave markers to perpetually and silently tell the life story of the deceased, personally made each cross. A beet worker’s grave marker features iron sugar beets. Similarly children’s crosses often are diminutive and simple; a young bride’s cross features the flowers of her wedding bouquet while a large open heart dominates a widow’s marker.

Catholicism was an important unifying force among the persistence of the wrought-iron grave cross tradition in the far-flung German-Russian groups in the United States and Canada. They emphasized visual symbols rather than oral ones and saw meaning and beauty in decorative wrought-iron crosses as Protestants stressed simplicity and fewer visual symbols as Holy Scripture. The traditional view of many German-from-Russia tended to be colored by an ever-present awareness of death. They particularly respected the consecrated ground of their dead and referred to it as Friedhof “peace yard”. In a bold effort to transcend the finite, this defiance was tempered and hammered into the timeless language of iron.

Iron cross construction took skill, patience, and hard work. Some elaborate designs required more than 30 pieces of metal. Historians say crosses were painted white, black, or silver. Many have a flat nameplate made in the shape of an unbroken heart or a rectangle placed at the intersection of the arms.

Ukrainian cemeteries are distinctive for their wrought iron crosses. They are taller than those found in German Russian cemeteries and the oldest are elaborate with filigree. The inscriptions are in Ukrainian and crosses often contain a photo of the deceased taken before death and preserved against the weather.

Blacksmithing is an epic occupation fundamental to the development of our agriculture economy. The religious experience that these crosses symbolize is equally fundamental to our civilization. These two factors combine to form a body of art, a beautiful balance of the sacred and the secular, and an achievement worthy of praise. The work that the iron crosses represent and the meaning they hold are an integral part of the foundation upon which North Dakota society is based. They are the soul of the prairie and represent the belief of these deeply religious people that the cemetery, albeit a burial ground, was a bridge between the dead and the living worlds, an expression of their personal relationship with God.

The Germans-from-Russia were a frugal people whose blacksmiths used wagon wheel rims and scrap metal to fashion markers for the graves of the dead. When people could afford it, they bought stamped or foundry crosses. The poorest people continued having local blacksmiths make them. A typical iron cross cost about twenty dollars in the early twentieth century, much less than a marble or granite stone, which had to be imported from the east.

Folklorists and art historians themselves still engage in lively debates regarding the precise nature, characteristic features, and even definitional statistics of folk art. “The artistic nature of a folk artifact is generally subordinate to its utilitarian nature so that most folk art exists within the immediate context of folk craft”. German-Russian folk have long recognized these objects of funerary art as a cultural legacy. Cultural anthropologists refer to the iron crosses as folk art or cemetery folk art.

Wrought iron grave crosses stand pious and proud on the wind-swept prairie, burned by drought, hammered by hail, scorched by hot winds, cooled by the dew, but they do not relinquish their assignment to mark, honor, and remind. The largest stretch skyward with assembled arms, bands, scrolls, filigree and curlicues measuring well over five feet. The smallest, one foot high, are simple unadorned metal, More often, the wrought iron cross devoid of name and date of death, bears only silent witness to the immigrant past and the ethnic heritage of the German Russian people.

In recent years, the distinctive funerary folk art of the German from Russia has become the subject of increasing public awareness and scholarly attention. The crosses represent an important period in this nation’s history, when European immigrants settled on the vast American Plaines and in so doing, left an indelible mark on the land.

The German Russian wrought iron cross-site is identified as a historically significant and culturally relevant property type. These works embody or reflect personal grief, family relationships, religious and ethnic values, occupations, avocations, and social status.

The wrought iron crosses of central North Dakota are symbols of a particular place, a particular historic time period, and a particular people.

Death has been noted and commemorated since the beginnings of human culture. Cemeteries shine forth with life and art and the collective mark we leave on cemeteries goes a long way toward explaining whom we are. Where artistic expression was once appreciated and encouraged, the cemetery is now an open-air museum, a fascinating collection of surprisingly varied manifestations of the spirit, mirroring its almost unlimited creativity; a grassy history book, a silent sociological diorama that is free of charge, always available but hardly ever occupied, above ground anyway. Grave markers are erected in order to reassure the survivors that each life will be remembered. Cemeteries enable us to proclaim our beliefs, give voice to our anguish or hope and exercise our artistic inclinations.

Wrought iron crosses withstand prairie fires and extreme weather conditions like freezing temperatures and searing summer heat. Certain types no longer exist due to such factors as vandalism, theft, natural deterioration and cemetery renovation. Trees (especially evergreens) trap snow and deep drifts crush art, even art of iron. The slow, inexorable loss of a piece of our tangible history may be a sad but inevitable occurrence in a universe where all things must pass. This generation may be the last to have the opportunity to visit and document these regional and national treasures before they are gone forever. Sadly; many of the lyrical iron crosses have been taken down and replaced by ordinary tombstones. It is said that an area monument dealer told a newspaper interviewer that he usually broke up the crosses up and sold them for metal as scrap.

The hope is that the heartland cemetery will not live out the rest of its days unnoticed and unappreciated by a generation that stands to learn much from its images.

The heartland cemetery is slowly evolving into a “memorial park”, a flat, mute wasteland, invented for convenience of the new owner-operator. Ease of maintenance is given preference over the individual expression of life and grief.

There are heartening signs that segments of society are beginning to rebel and demand the right of individual expression and mourning. Interesting, sometimes entertaining illustrations have begun to appear on what had become the standard pastel granite tombstone. The signs of returning individualism are encouraging, but this nascent impulse needs to be nurtured and expanded if the heartland cemetery is once more to be a mirror for our rich and varied culture.

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