_ACROSS SWEDEN BY THE GOTHA
CANAL._
A DAY AT GOTHENBURG—THE GOTHA CANAL—LIFE ON THE “VENUS”—KEEPING
OUR MEAL ACCOUNTS—THE TROLLHÄTTA FALLS—PASTORAL SCENERY—SWEDISH
BOARDING-SCHOOL GIRLS—LAKE MÄLAR.
Gothenburg, a busy commercial place of about 77,000 inhabitants, is,
next to Stockholm, the largest city in Sweden. It is situated on the
Gotha river, five miles from its mouth, with an excellent harbor. As
it has direct steamer communication with England and Scotland, and
close business relations with them, and as many English merchants and
manufacturers reside here, it seems almost like an English city. On
the steamboat quays, at hotels, railway stations, and in the streets,
English is spoken, so that our first impressions of Sweden had a
decided English tinge.
The city is well built, with solid stone quays along the numerous
canals running through it, is regularly laid out with wide streets,
and is furnished with horse-cars, parks, theatres, and all the adjuncts
of modern civilization.
At dinner at the hotel we first saw a peculiar Swedish institution
called the _smörgasbord_, which is considered a stimulator of the
appetite. All the natives, before sitting down to the regular table,
went to a small side table laden with salted and smoked fish, sardines,
fat herring in oil, boiled ham, smoked tongue, cold boiled eggs, potted
crabs, pickles, cheese, bread and butter, and standing around the table
helped themselves with a fork to a choice morsel, now here, now there,
which they washed down with small glasses of gin, brandy, and a liquor
called _kummel_, made from caraway seeds. At every dinner in Sweden you
will see the men, and often many ladies, apparently making a good meal
from the varied assortment on this side table, and then they sit down
to a regular dinner of several courses. It goes without saying, that to
one unaccustomed to its use, the _smörgasbord_, instead of increasing
the appetite, causes it to quickly disappear.
It was Sunday afternoon, and we drove out to a large park, a popular
resort of the people, where, under the trees and in shady quiet nooks,
families and groups of friends were enjoying basket picnics and a
healthful rest, in a quiet and orderly manner. Among the females
there was an entire absence of hats and bonnets, all wearing upon the
head black silk handkerchiefs edged with lace and bead trimming, while
those in mourning wore handkerchiefs with wide borders of crape; these
were all alike both for old and young, and the general effect was
decidedly funereal, though they heightened the charm of the fresh, rosy
complexions of the young maidens.
The park has fine, natural growths of trees, and is laid out into
drives and walks; and from a lofty ledge of rock there is an extensive
view of the city, harbor, and bay with its numerous rocky islands.
A glance at the map of Sweden will show that the country between
Gothenburg and Stockholm is largely occupied by lakes; in fact, it
is computed that the lakes of Sweden cover nearly one-eighth of its
whole area, and the largest lakes in the country are located in the
district between these two cities. Connecting links between this string
of lakes have been made by a system of canals furnished with locks;
rivers and natural water-courses have been rendered navigable, and
a line of internal navigation made, connecting the Baltic with the
Cattegat and the North Sea. The whole distance by the canal route from
the North Sea to the Baltic is two hundred and sixty English miles.
Baedeker states that the artificial part of this waterway, including
seventy-four locks in all, is about fifty-six miles in length. Four
of the locks are for regulating the level of the water. The highest
point of the canal is where it enters Lake Vettern, three hundred
feet above sea-level. The canal is forty-six feet wide at the bottom,
eighty-six feet on the surface, and is ten feet in depth. About seven
thousand barges and small steamers annually ply between the North Sea
and Lake Venern, and three thousand between Lake Venern and the Baltic.
The different parts of the canal between Gothenburg and Stockholm are
known collectively as the Gotha Canal; it is the most important system
in Sweden, where engineers have accomplished so much in perfecting
internal communication.
We decided to make the journey from Gothenburg to Stockholm by the
canal route, rather than by railway, although Baedeker strongly
recommends travellers in no case to make the whole journey by steamer,
as it would prove extremely tiresome and monotonous, and states
that the steamers leave much to be desired in point of comfort. Our
experience proved directly the opposite; and we look back upon it
as one of the most enjoyable parts of our journey in the North, and
it shows that the little _red book_ is not infallible, and that a
traveller must use his own judgment in the selection of routes.
The “Venus,” which bore us from Gothenburg at noon, is a trim and snug
little steamer, stubby and thick-set in build, being a little less than
one hundred feet long, that she may just fit into the locks of the
canals. There are six first-class cabins, cosy and comfortable, each
accommodating two persons, and the space at the stern is occupied by
a family arrangement of berths, so that there are accommodations for
twenty or more first-class passengers in all. There is a small dining
saloon forward, besides quarters for second and third class passengers.
As we stood on the upper deck, we looked at our neighbors, forming our
impressions of them. One man, wearing rather a shabby nautical suit,
and big coarse shoes with rubber soles, we decided was one of the deck
hands, until he cocked an eyeglass in his right eye. Heaven save the
mark! he proved to be an English marquis! A few pleasant Englishmen,
a jolly young Irish gentleman, and a lively Viennese couple, made up
the passenger list. As we gathered around the festive _smörgasbord_
and partook of its assorted contents, although our appetites seemed
sufficiently stimulated, and then sat down to our first dinner in what
was to be our home during the next two and a half days, the social ice
was broken, and we soon became talkative and acquainted.
A neat and graceful Swedish maiden, a personified Venus, served us with
a well-cooked and palatable dinner. Our ticket, including passage and
state-room, cost thirty crowns (eight dollars). The meals were extra,
and cost for the whole trip two dollars and a half, making the total
expense less than eleven dollars. A dinner for a gentleman costs two
crowns, for a child one crown, while the heavenly medium of one crown
and a half was the charge for a lady. By this arrangement, what was
lost on a lady with a large appetite was gained on a gentleman who was
a small eater.
When the dinner was finished, a long and narrow account-book was handed
to the gentleman at the head of the table; he entered the number of
his state-room, and then began a meal account in Swedish, entering his
dinner as _en Middag med Öl_ (one dinner with beer), and the charge
which appeared in the list of prices for each meal. This book was
passed to each one at the table after every meal, the keeping of the
account being left wholly to the individual, and it never seemed to be
verified. At the end of the journey each one settled his account as he
had kept it, and its correctness was not questioned.
Our course was up the Gotha river, and the latter part of the
afternoon we arrived at the Trollhätta Falls, a series of rapids and
waterfalls formed by the river, which proved the chief obstacle to the
construction of the Gotha Canal. The canal extends for two miles at the
side of the river to a point above these rapids, and a series of eleven
locks form a gigantic staircase, by which vessels ascend and descend
between the North Sea and Lake Venern, one hundred and forty-four feet
above. As it requires over two hours for a vessel to pass through the
locks, we left the “Venus,” and, under the guidance of a small urchin,
followed a narrow winding path through the fragrant fir and pine woods,
and along the river’s bank, visiting the various falls, six in number.
The finest is the Toppö Fall, forty-two feet high, which is divided by
an island reached by a frail, swinging suspension bridge. The great
volume of water plunging down the narrow space between precipitous
walls of rock renders the falls imposing, and in this respect they
are unsurpassed in Europe. The rapids above the various falls are
similar to those above and below Niagara, but the Gotha river is much
narrower. The roar of the waters, as they rushed and foamed among the
great boulders scattered through the rocky ravine, was quite inspiring;
but the picturesqueness of the scene was marred by the saw-mills and
manufactories along the banks. We were shown the usual collection of
Giant’s Cauldrons, Devil’s Kettles, and towers commanding extensive
views, and visited the locks of an abandoned canal, which mark the
first attempt to pass by these dangerous cataracts.
We arrived at the little village of Torghätta, above the falls, before
the “Venus,” and our walk having whetted our appetites we entered
a small inn, where, in an upper room with quaint old furnishings,
we gathered around the table laden with the varied collection of
the _smörgasbord_. One of the most motherly of old women, in quaint
headgear and figured kerchief, brought in fresh supplies, and divined,
rather than understood, our few Swedish words. We there tasted the
Swedish bread called _knäckebröd_, made of rye and barley baked in
thin circular sheets, eighteen inches in diameter, of the nature of
pilot bread or hard tack. It has a liberal sprinkling of anise and
caraway seeds, and is crisp and brittle, and pleasant to the taste, but
it sadly lacks filling qualities, for one can munch away upon it by
the hour, and still seem to have eaten nothing. The plates were piled
two feet high with the sheets of _knäckebröd_, and there seemed an
inexhaustible supply when we entered, yet they were nearly at low-water
level when we shook hands with the dear old lady and went aboard the
“Venus.”
We soon arrived at Venersborg, a town completely surrounded by water,
situated at the point where the Gotha river emerges from Lake Venern.
As we remained here for half an hour, we left the steamer for a stroll
about town; but we found that, like most of the little Swedish towns,
it was paved with cobble stones, both sidewalks and roadways; and
after ten minutes our feet ached from the pointed stones, and to those
wearing tennis shoes the walk became a torture, which we soon ended by
returning to the “Venus.”
Lake Venern, one hundred miles long and in places fifty miles wide, is
the largest of the Swedish lakes. We passed the night in crossing the
lake diagonally, and it proved a smooth passage, though at times severe
storms rage here, the same as upon our large inland seas.
It was the thirteenth of June, the season of long days. At quarter
past nine the sun set almost due north; the heavens were ablaze in
gold, crimson, and purple, burning in deep colors for over an hour.
The twilight was indescribable; so light was it that at half past ten
we read with ease the finest print, and not until after eleven did the
light perceptibly diminish, and the last trace of the sunset’s coloring
fade from the clouds.
The scenery of Sweden cannot be called beautiful, but it is very pretty;
it is mild, quiet, and pastoral in its nature, and has much sameness.
Low hills, small lakes, forests of fir and pine, cultivated fields with
farmhouses painted red, quiet little villages with small wooden houses
and a rustic church,—such are the features of the country traversed by
the canal before we reach Lake Vettern, the most beautiful of the great
lakes, eighty miles long and twelve wide. The hills on its banks are
higher, and the scenery much finer than along the shores of Lake Venern.
Motala is a picturesque place on the east shore of the lake, and
here we take on a large addition of passengers, among them a bevy of
boarding-school girls returning to their homes in Stockholm. Each girl
was decorated with flowers; bunches of flowers were pinned to their
hats, and long garlands adorned their dresses. There were very effusive
leave-takings, and as the “Venus” bore them from their companions
on the quay, the deck was showered with bouquets, and handkerchiefs
fluttered until the quay vanished from sight. School girls are the same
the world around—chattering, laughing, and full of life. Before they
had finished dinner we were all acquainted, and those who could speak
English and German were in animated conversation.
When the “meal book” went the rounds for the making up of accounts, the
young gentleman from Dublin, instead of the customary _en Middag med
Öl_, entered upon his account _one mad dog with oil_, which horrified
the girls who could comprehend an English pun.
The girls had been to a practical finishing school, where they had been
taught all kinds of needle-work, dressmaking, cooking, and everything
pertaining to housekeeping. They had made the tasty dresses they
wore, and although we had an extra good dinner that day, yet they all
declared they could cook a better one. In the school there had been no
studying, but while they were busy with the needle one of their number
read aloud; they also took turns in being housekeeper and having
entire charge of the house. They were well-informed and intelligent
young ladies from good families, and were evidently well fitted for
practical life.
Our journey now led through a series of small and pretty lakes,
connected by canals with many locks, whose course is descending, as
Lake Vettern, which we had just left, lies three hundred feet above
the Baltic. While the “Venus” was passing through the locks, we walked
on the banks of the “raging canal,” a merry party, the Viennese lady
acting as chaperon. We were wholly misled as to time by the long
lingering twilight, and only turned back when we discovered it was fast
approaching midnight; finding the “Venus” in a lock we went aboard to
disturbed slumbers, as she passed most of the night in going through
locks, and in receiving a liberal supply of bumps.
When we went on deck in the morning we seemed to be in the midst of
a deep forest, the canal being like a path through the woods, the
branches of the trees meeting above our heads. Later we came out among
small rocky islands, where we appeared to be completely shut in, and
it was difficult to divine which course the steamer would take, until
a sudden turn disclosed an egress. Farther on the course is partly on
the open Baltic, and partly among the great ledges of rock flanking the
coast, where the intricate navigation requires the utmost skill of the
pilot, until we enter the canal connecting the Baltic with Lake Mälar.
While stopping at a little village, women and children gathered around
the steamer with baskets filled with _kringlor_ (ring-shaped cakes) and
_pepperkakor_ (gingerbread), specialties of the place, and as they were
well patronized everyone was soon munching from a paper bag.
Lake Mälar has twelve hundred islands, and is similar in scenery to the
beautiful region of the Thousand Islands of the St. Lawrence river. We
now enter upon the most interesting part of our journey. As we proceed
down the lake towards Stockholm, we pass an island called the King’s
Hat, from a rock surmounted by a pole bearing a large iron hat, to
commemorate the tradition that Olaf Haraldssön, a Norwegian king, when
pursued by a king of Sweden, sprang with his horse from the cliff into
the lake and escaped, leaving his hat behind. On the islands are villas
and country houses, their summer residents gracing the lawns and rocks;
from concert gardens, gay with flags, festoons, and colored globes,
float strains of music across the water, while numerous pleasure
steamers and gay boating parties, going from island to island, enliven
the scene.
Down the lake, first a lofty spire, then several towers, come into
view. What appears in the distance like a cloud of smoke floating above
the houses on each side of a tall tower, we discover on approaching
nearer to be a network of telephone wires, stretching above the roofs,
converging to the immense standard tower above the central office. Now
we have a striking view of Stockholm, rising on islands and cliffs from
the lake, with its harbor and quays full of shipping, and the palace
and church towers standing out prominently.
We say farewell to the officers of the “Venus,” all of whom speak
excellent English and have done their utmost to make our voyage
pleasant; the school girls flutter into the arms of their parents and
friends awaiting on the quay, and our little company of travellers
proceed to the same hotel, leaving the “Venus” with most pleasant
recollections of our journey across Sweden.
IN AND ABOUT STOCKHOLM.