THE GOTHA CANAL.
On a pleasant morning in August I called for my bill at the "Stadt
Frankfort." The landlady, a blooming young woman of rather vivacious
and persuasive manners, wished me such a delightful journey, and
looked so sorry I was going, that I could not muster resolution enough
to complain of the various candles that were never burnt, and the
numerous services that were never rendered, except in the bill; and
had she charged me for washing my own face and putting on my own
boots, I fear the result would have been the same. Wishing her a happy
future, I shouldered my knapsack, which by this time contained only
two shirts, an old pair of stockings, and some few flowers and stones
from celebrated places, and, thus accoutred for the journey, made my
way down to Riddarholm Quay. In a dingy old office, abounding in
cobwebs, a dingy old gentleman, who spoke English, sold me a
second-class ticket for Gottenburg. The little steamer upon which I
had the good fortune to secure a passage was called the Admiral Von
Platten, a name famous in the history of Swedish enterprise. It was
Von Platten who, in 1808, took charge of the great work of internal
improvement known as the West Gotha Canal, and by the aid of Telford,
the celebrated English engineer, carried it into successful operation
in 1822. The project of connecting the lakes of Wenern and Wettern,
and forming a water communication all the way between Stockholm and
Gottenburg, was entertained at a very early day by the different
sovereigns and scientific men of Sweden. Bishop Brask in 1516,
Gustavus I., Charles IX., Swedenborg, Gustavus Adolphus, and others,
took particular interest in it, and some progress was made in the
building of locks and opening of short passages up to the beginning of
the present century. Daniel Thunberg contributed materially to the
opening of the route between Wenern and the Baltic; and Colonel N.
Eriksson, the celebrated engineer whose reputation stands so high in
the United States, had the direction of the work for many years. It
was not, however, till 1844 that the entire work was fully completed,
although some years prior to that time the two seas were connected and
open to navigation. The immense expense of this enterprise; the
extraordinary natural obstacles that have been overcome; the patience
and perseverance with which it has been carried into practical
operation; the magnitude and durability of the work, can only be
appreciated by one who has made the trip through Sweden by this route.
It is certainly the grandest triumph recorded in Swedish history. It
will exist and benefit generations to come, when the names of her
kings, warriors, and statesmen shall be known only to antiquarians.
The steamers now plying on this route are small, but well arranged for
the accommodation of passengers. There is a first and second cabin,
and a restaurant at which the traveler can call for what he desires,
and, provided his tastes are not eccentric, generally get what he
calls for. The waiters are simple-minded, kind-hearted, and sociable;
sit down and gossip with the passengers (at least those of the second
class), and, what seems rather novel and amusing to a stranger, leave
the bill to be made out and summed up by the passengers themselves. A
general account-book is left open in the cabin, in which it is
expected every traveler will set down his name and keep his own
account. At the end of the trip, the head waiter goes the rounds of
the cabin and deck, book in hand, and asks the passengers to designate
their names and sum up their accounts. Nobody seems to think of
cheating or being cheated. There is something so primitive in this way
of dealing on a public highway between two commercial cities, that I
was quite charmed with it, and have some thoughts of recommending it
to the California Steam Navigation Company. Just think what a pleasure
it would be to travel from San Francisco to Sacramento, and keep the
record of your own bitters and cigars, to say nothing of your supper
and berth! I am certain the plan would be approved by a majority of
the traveling public throughout the state.
The company on board these little Swedish steamers is generally plain,
sociable, and intelligent. Among the passengers I met many who spoke
English and German, and few who did not speak at least one language
in addition to their own. In midsummer the trip from Stockholm to
Gottenburg usually takes three days, though it is sometimes
accomplished in two. The distance is about three hundred and seventy
miles by the shortest route, through the Wettern and Wenern lakes.
Time, however, is no great object in Sweden, and a day or two more or
less makes no great difference. The beauty of the scenery, and the
diversity of land and water, render the trip one of the most agreeable
in Northern Europe, and for one I can safely say it would have pleased
me all the better had it lasted longer.
Leaving the Riddarholm Quay, our route lay for the first four hours
through the Malar Lake. The weather was delightful, and there was
scarcely a ripple on the water. Sloops and wood-boats lay floating
upon its glassy surface without perceptible motion. All along on
either side beautiful villas peeped from the umbrageous shores and
islands. Behind us, the city loomed up in all its queenly beauty, the
numerous churches and public buildings presented in majestic outline
against the sky, while the forest of shipping at the quays added a
more stirring and vital interest to the scene. As we turned the last
promontory to the right, and took a lingering look at this charming
"city of the sea," I thought I had never enjoyed a more enchanting
_coup d'oeil_. The suburbs of Stockholm; the numerous little islands,
with their rich green shrubbery; the villas and gardens; the sparkling
vistas of water, form a combination of beauties rarely to be met with
in any other part of the world. No wonder the Swedes regard their
capital as a paradise. I fully agree with them that in summer it
deserves all their praise; but I should prefer a warmer and more
genial paradise for winter quarters. Earthen stoves and hot-air
furnaces are not in any of the seven heavens that occur in my
imagination.
Before many hours we passed a point somewhat celebrated in Swedish
history. On a high peak of rock, hanging upon a pole, is a prodigious
iron hat, said to be the identical "stove-pipe" worn by one of the old
Swedish kings--a terrible fellow, who was in the habit of slaying
hundreds of his enemies with his own hand. This famous old king must
have been a giant in stature. Judging by his hat, as Professor Agassiz
judges of fish by their scales, he must have been forty feet high, by
about ten or fifteen broad; and if his strength corresponded with his
gigantic proportions, I fancy he could have knocked the gable-end off
a house with a single blow of his fist, or kicked the head out of a
puncheon of rum, and swallowed the contents at a single draught,
without the least difficulty. His hat probably weighs a hundred
pounds--enough to give any ordinary man a severe headache. Here it has
stood for centuries, in commemoration of his last struggle. Besieged
by an overwhelming force of his enemies, as the chronicle goes, he
slew some thousands of them, but, being finally hard pressed, he lost
his iron hat in the fight, and then plunged headlong into the lake.
Some historians assert that he took to water to avoid capture; but I
incline to the opinion myself that he did it to cool his head. At all
events, the record ends at this point. We are unable to learn any
thing more of his fate. These Northern races are strong believers in
their own aboriginal history, and although there may be much in this
that would require the very best kind of testimony before a California
jury, the slightest hint of a doubt as to its truth would probably be
taken as a personal offense by any public spirited Swede. In that
respect, thank fortune, I am gifted with a most accommodating
disposition. I can believe almost any thing under the sun. Giants and
genii are nothing to what my credulity is capable of; and as for
fairies and hobgoblins, I can swallow them by wholesale. There is only
one thing in this world that I entertain the least doubt about--the
title to my house and lot in Oakland. Upon that point I question if it
ever will be possible for human evidence to satisfy me. Three times I
paid for it, and each time every body considered it perfect except
myself. I expect daily to hear of another title, of which I trust some
enterprising gentleman in want of funds will advise me. It will be a
source of consolation to know that I was not mistaken.
Situated near the entrance of the canal, on the left bank, is the
beautiful little town of Soderkoping, celebrated for its mineral
springs, to which the people of Stockholm resort in great numbers
during the summer for health and recreation. The scene as we
approached was very pretty. Pine and oak forests cover the granite
hills for many miles around, relieved by occasional openings dotted
with villas, gardens, and farms; and the dark red wooden houses of the
town have a singularly pleasant effect glimmering in the sunbeams
through the rich masses of foliage by which they are surrounded.
Groups of visitors stood at the locks awaiting the news from the city,
or anxiously looking out for the familiar faces of relatives and
friends, while the lock-men slowly and methodically performed their
accustomed routine of labors. Soderkoping is a very ancient town, and
in former times enjoyed considerable importance as a mart of commerce.
Passing through a narrow stretch of canal, some miles in length,
overhung by trees and rocks on the right, and affording some pleasant
views of the rich valley to the left, the banks gradually widened till
we entered a beautiful little lake, leading, after a short passage, to
the waters of the Roxen. The narrow parts of the canal are difficult
of navigation, owing to the various turns and the solid masses of rock
through which it is cut; and the steamer sometimes proceeds very
slowly, carefully feeling her way along, till an open space affords an
opportunity of going ahead at a more rapid rate. In the mean time the
passengers are all out on the decks, shaded by an awning, enjoying
themselves in the most unceremonious manner, laughing and talking in
groups, sipping their coffee, or promenading up and down to enjoy the
sweet-scented breeze from the neighboring hills. The Roxen Lake,
through which we next passed, is some seventeen miles long by seven
broad, and is justly regarded as one of the loveliest sheets of water
in all Sweden. The shores are neither very high nor very grand, but it
would be difficult to find any thing more charming than the rich
coloring of the rocks, their varied outlines, the luxuriance of the
forests, and the crystal clearness of the water. Villages and farms
are seen at occasional intervals in the distance, and sloops, with
their sails hanging idly against their masts, float upon the placid
surface of the lake as upon a mirror. Indeed, so perfect is the
inversion, that the eye can scarcely determine how much is real and
how much the result of optical illusion. Passing in sight of the town
of Linkoping, which lies to the left, we soon reached the entrance of
the West Gotha Canal, which here makes a direct ascent from the waters
of the Roxen of seventy-five feet. At this point there are eleven
locks, seven of which are closely connected, and the remainder
separated by short stretches of canal. Near at hand is a pretty little
village to the left, famous for its church, the Vretakloster, built in
the Gothic style in 1128, by Inge II., one of the early kings of
Sweden. While the steamer was slowly toiling through the locks, a
party of the passengers, including myself, paid a visit to the church,
and, aided by a venerable sacristan, saw all that was to be seen in
it, chief among which are the tombs of the kings and the arms of the
Douglas family, those warlike Scots who took such an active part in
the military exploits of Sweden during the Thirty Years' War. The walk
was a pleasant relief after our trip across the lake, and on our
return by a short cut to the upper locks we had a splendid view of the
wood-covered shore and glistening waters of the Roxen, now fading away
in the rich twilight. The steamer occupies about an hour and a half in
getting through the locks, and most of the passengers take advantage
of the delay to stroll about among the neighboring cottages and
gardens, and enjoy the various refreshments offered for sale at the
pavilions and tents erected near the upper extremity for the
accommodation of travelers. Fresh milk, raspberries, coffee, sweet
cakes, and ale are the principal articles furnished at these places.
Notwithstanding there was an abundant supply of luxuries on board,
every body seemed to be hungry and thirsty on getting ashore. The
rapidity with which the plates, cups, and glasses were emptied was
really surprising, and would have done credit to a crowd of
Californians, who, I think, can eat more and drink more in a given
time than any race of men upon the earth.
The canal for some distance beyond the locks is quite narrow--often
barely wide enough for two steamers to pass. On the left the banks
rise to a considerable height, and then gradually decline till the
canal passes along a ridge, high above the surrounding country. The
effect in these places is very peculiar. The overhanging trees almost
unite their branches over the chimney of the steamer as she wends her
way slowly and steadily along; deep ravines extend downward into an
impenetrable abyss on either side; the sky glimmers through the
foliage in a horizontal line with the eye, and one can almost fancy
the world has been left below somewhere, and that a new highway has
been entered, upon which passengers steam their way to the stars. I am
quite certain, if we had kept a direct course long enough, we would
have reached the moon or some of the heavenly bodies.
It was late at night when we reached the Boren Lake, another of those
natural highways that lie between the Baltic and the North Sea. This
lake is comparatively small, but it abounds in rocky islands and
shoals which render the navigation through it rather intricate. A
pilot is taken on board at the entrance of each lake, and discharged
upon reaching the next canal station.
I remained on deck until midnight, enjoying the strange and beautiful
lights spread over the heavens in this latitude, and was reluctant
even then to lose the views during any part of the journey. Nature,
however, can not be defrauded of her legitimate demands even by the
beauties of scenery, and I went below to sleep out the remainder of
the night. My berth was in the forward cabin, where twenty or thirty
passengers were already stretched out--some on the tables, some on the
floor, and as many as could find room were snoring away in the
temporary berths erected on the seats for their accommodation. Toward
morning I was suddenly aroused by a strange and jarring motion of the
boat, accompanied by a grating sound. It seemed as if an earthquake
were throwing us up out of the water; yet the shocks were more sudden
and violent than any I had ever before experienced. Many of the
passengers were cast out of their berths, and the glass and crockery
in the pantry went crashing over the floor. Scarcely conscious whether
I was dreaming or awake, I grasped a post, and sprang out on a pile of
baggage, but was immediately precipitated across the cabin.
Fortunately I fell against the chambermaid, and suffered no injury.
Amid the confusion worse confounded, the screams of the women down
below, the crash of broken glasses, and the general struggle to get to
the cabin door, a German Jew sprang from his berth, and in frantic
accents begged that his life might be spared. "Take my money!" cried
he; "take it all, but for God's sake don't murder me!" The poor fellow
had evidently been aroused out of some horrible dream, and between
actual and imaginary dangers was now quite bewildered with terror. I
could not help but be amused at the grotesque expression of his face,
even at such a moment. It would have provoked a smile had we been
going to the bottom. There was no fear of that, however, as I quickly
ascertained. We were already hard and fast on the bottom. We had run
upon a sunken rock, and were so firmly wedged between its crevices
that it seemed likely we should remain there some time. As soon as all
was still, I quietly dressed myself and went on deck to take an
observation. It was just daylight. We were in the middle of a lake,
surrounded by small rocky islands. One of these was only a stone's
throw distant on our starboard. The stakes between which our course
lay were close by on the larboard. We had missed the channel by some
twenty or thirty yards, and run upon a bed of solid boulders. The
pilot, it seemed, had been drinking a little too freely of schnapps,
and had fallen asleep at the helm. It was a miracle that we were not
all dashed to pieces. A few yards to the right stood a sharp rock,
which, had we run against it, would have crushed in the entire bow of
the boat, and probably many of us would have perished.
Although there was no fear of our sinking any deeper unless the bed of
rocks gave way, it was not a pleasant prospect to be detained here,
perhaps for several days. The main shore was some five or six miles
distant, and presented an almost unbroken line of granite boulders and
dense pine forests. Most of the passengers were on deck, in a state of
high excitement; the gentlemen running about in their shirt sleeves
and drawers, and the ladies in those indescribable costumes which
ladies usually wear when they go to sleep. The captain was mounted on
the poop-deck, with his pipe in his mouth, giving orders to the men,
who were pulling and tugging at big ropes, and trying to be very busy
knocking things about; the pilot stood a little apart from the
captain, pale and moody, having in a single moment destroyed his
prospects for life. I felt very sorry for the poor fellow, though
there was really no excuse for him. Every now and then the captain
turned to him and gave him a broadside of curses, which he bore very
meekly.
In vain the engineer put on additional steam; in vain the captain
shouted "Back!" "Ahead!" "Stop!" We did nothing but stop. It was stop
all the time. As there is no tide in these inland waters, the prospect
was that we would continue to stop as long as the rocks remained
stationary.
All hope of progress being at an end, the engineer slackened down the
fires; the deck-hands went to breakfast, and the passengers went down
below to dress and talk over their misfortune. The sun rose as usual,
and the sky was as clear and the lake as placid as if nothing had
happened. I had been trying all my life to get shipwrecked on a
desolate island; now there seemed a fair prospect of success. The only
difficulty was, that there was no heavy sea to break the vessel to
pieces, and she was too substantial to go to pieces of her own
account. The nearest island was little more than a barren rock. A few
birds wheeled about over it, or sat perched upon its rugged points,
but with that exception I doubt if it furnished a foothold for a
living creature.
After a good breakfast of sausages and veal cutlets, brown bread and
coffee, we again turned out on deck. This time the joyful tidings
reached us from aloft that a Gottenburg steamer was approaching. Soon
the smoke of her chimneys was perceptible from the deck, and in an
hour or so she was alongside. A stout hawser was bent on to her, and
after another hour of pulling and tugging, backing and filling, we
slipped off the rocks, and floated out into the channel. I was
destined, after all, never to be decently shipwrecked. We had suffered
but little injury, and proceeded on our way as quietly as if nothing
had interrupted our course. On our arrival at the next pilot station
the captain put the pilot ashore, with a parting malediction in the
Swedish vernacular.
The next place of importance on our route was the pretty little town
of Motala, at which we stopped for some hours to take in freight and
passengers. The neighborhood is undulating and picturesque, and
abounds in rich farms. Motala is an old-fashioned place, with paved
streets and wooden houses, much like the suburbs of Stockholm. It is
celebrated chiefly for its manufactures of iron. The founderies are
numerous, and cutlery of a very good quality is manufactured here.
Besides these, it possesses many other objects of interest. The
churches are well worth visiting, and the ruins of the fortifications
erected in 1567, to resist the Danes, are among the finest in Sweden.
From Motala, after another narrow stretch of canal, we soon reached
the Wettern Lake, the next largest to the Wenern, and the waters of
which are three hundred and four feet above the level of the sea.
In my recollections of travel I can scarcely call to mind any
experience more pleasant than I enjoyed during this part of the trip.
The lake scenery of Sweden, although not very grand compared with that
of the Norwegian fjords, is certainly unsurpassed in the softness and
beauty of its coloring, the crystal clearness of the water, the
luxuriance of the surrounding forests, the varied labyrinths of
charming little islands through which the channel winds, and the
delicate atmospheric tints cast on the distant shores. By this time,
too, the passengers have become better acquainted. The wonderful
sights that we have seen together; the perils and dangers through
which we have passed; the breakfasts, dinners, and suppers that we
have eaten at the same board; the amount of solid sleeping that we
have done in the same little cabin; the promenades we have had up and
down the decks, and the rambles we have enjoyed together, have bound
us together as one family, and now we come out with our individual
histories and experiences, our accomplishments and humors. We (the
gentlemen) drink schnapps together, smoke cigars, talk all the
languages under the sun, tell our best anecdotes, and sing glees under
the awning. The ladies look more beautiful than ever, and although
they are still a little shy of us, as ladies in Europe generally are
of the male sex, they sometimes favor us with a smile or a pleasant
word, and thus contribute to our happiness. I don't know, for the life
of me, what dire offense the man who founded European society was
guilty of; but it is certain his successors, from Algeria to the North
Pole, are sadly mistrusted by the unmarried ladies. This, I regret to
say, is the case in Sweden, as well as in Germany and France. A
gentleman is generally regarded as a ferocious cannibal, ready
without the slightest provocation to devour and swallow up
defenseless maidens. The married ladies are free and easy enough,
having discovered probably that men are not half so dangerous as they
are reported to be. But, all things considered, the Swedish ladies are
exceedingly polite and affable, and on occasions of this kind seem
well disposed toward our rapacious sex.
The next important point in our route was the fortress of Wanas, which
commands the channel entering the lake on the eastern side. This is
considered a work of great importance in view of invasion by any
foreign power. We did not stop long enough to examine it in detail,
merely touching to put the mail ashore and take in a few passengers.
Leaving the Wettern Lake, our route lay through a series of smaller
lakes, beautifully diversified with wood-covered islands, till we
entered the Viken, another magnificent stretch of water of less extent
than the Wettern, but still more beautiful than any we had yet seen.
Here the rocks and islands are innumerable, rising from the water in
every direction; the smaller ones covered with moss, lichens,
shrubbery, and flowers; and the larger darkened with a dense growth of
fir, pine, and other evergreens, while the oak, elm, and ash
occasionally enliven the masses of shade with their more lively
foliage.
At the end of the Viken, which is some fifteen miles in length, the
West Gotha Canal commences, and continues through a rich and beautiful
farming country to the waters of the great Wenern Lake, some twenty
miles distant. The passage through this portion of the route is less
interesting than others through which we had passed--so far, at least,
as the scenery is concerned. The country is undulating, but not
sufficiently diversified for fine scenic effects. Farms and meadows
extend nearly all the way to the shores of the Wenern; and the canal
passes at frequent intervals through farming districts, which, in
point of cultivation, are quite equal to any thing I had seen in more
southern parts of Europe. The peasants' houses along the route are
neat and comfortable, and reminded me occasionally of our New England
farm-houses. Villages enliven the route at intervals of a few miles,
but generally they are of inconsiderable size, and may properly be
regarded as mere gatherings of farm-houses around the nucleus of a
church or post station. In this respect, I was struck with the
difference between Sweden and Germany. The German peasantry, as a
general thing, live in villages, and carry on their farming outside,
sometimes at a distance of several miles. In the Thuringenwald, the
Schwartzwald, the Spessart, and some other mountainous districts, it
is true, exceptions may be found to this rule; but throughout the best
cultivated districts of Germany there are but comparatively few
farm-houses in which isolated families live. Hence villages, and, in
many cases, large towns, form the head-quarters of each agricultural
parish. The pedestrian, in traveling through Germany, is scarcely ever
more than a "halp-stund" from one town or village to another. I think
the longest stretch I ever made between two villages was two hours, or
six and a half miles. In Sweden (and the same may be said of Norway)
the farming districts have more of an American aspect. The houses are
scattered about on the different farms, and the peasants do not seem
to be so gregarious in their habits as those of Germany. This arises
in part from the fact that the population is not so dense in Sweden as
in the more central parts of Europe, and in part from the greater
abundance of wood and pasture, and the predominance of the lumbering,
mining, and stock-raising interests. Many of the farmers are also
lumbermen and miners, and nearly all have a good supply of blood
cattle. The extent of arable land in Sweden is comparatively small. It
presents few attractions as an agricultural country. Its chief wealth
consists in its vast forests and mines. The climate is too severe and
the production of cereal crops too uncertain to render farming on a
large scale a profitable pursuit. This is especially the case in the
northern parts. South of Stockholm, between the lakes of Wettern and
Wenern, and along the banks of the Gota River, farming is carried to
considerable perfection; but with this exception, and some small and
sheltered valleys to the north, in which the peasants manage with
great care and labor to raise a sufficient supply of grain and
potatoes for domestic consumption, but little is produced for
exportation. The land generally throughout Sweden is barren and rocky,
and it is only by great labor and constant manuring that fair crops
can be produced. In the populous districts, where the soil possesses
some natural advantages, the farms are mostly small, averaging from
ten to seventy-five acres. A tract of forest is usually attached to
these farming-lands, from which the peasants derive their supplies of
lumber and fuel. Saw-mills are numerous on all the rivers, and a large
trade in lumber is carried on in the lake regions. The main lumber
region lies north of Stockholm, on the various small rivers emptying
into the Gulf of Bothnia. Sundswall, Umea, Lulea, and Haparanda are
the principal places of exportation on the eastern shore, and
Gottenburg on the west. The fisheries are also an important branch of
industry, and large quantities of stromung and herrings are exported.
Salmon abound in the rivers, and the lakes and mountain streams
furnish a very fine quality of trout. Game is more abundant in the
densely wooded regions of Sweden than in Norway, being less accessible
to English sportsmen. Of late years Norway has become the favorite
hunting and fishing ground of the English, and every summer they swarm
all over the country with their guns and fishing-rods. In Sweden,
however, comparatively few have yet made their appearance. Bear, elk,
red deer, ptarmigan, and wild-fowl abound in the forests and along the
shores of the lakes. The Swedes themselves are not so much given to
this kind of recreation as the English. Their chief amusements consist
in Sunday afternoon recreations, such as theatrical representations,
dancing, singing, drinking, and carousing. In their religious
observances they are very strict, but after church they consider
themselves privileged to enjoy a little dissipation in the Continental
style. It too often happens that their frolics are carried to an
excess. More brandy and other strong liquors are consumed in Sweden,
according to the population, than in New Orleans or San Francisco,
which is saying a good deal for the civilization of the people.
Another good sign is that they chew tobacco. The better classes
usually smoke this delightful weed, but the peasants both smoke it and
chew it, showing conclusively that they are advancing rapidly toward
emancipation from the narrow prejudices of European society. I saw
drunken men and tobacco-chewers in Sweden who would have done credit
to any little mining district in California. The habit of drinking is
almost universal. The peasants drink to get drunk, the better classes
drink for excitement, and all drink because they like it. At the
principal restaurants in Stockholm and Gottenburg there is usually an
anteroom opening into the main saloon. Here every gentleman who enters
deposits his hat and cane. In the centre of the room stands a small
table, upon which are several decanters containing "schnapps," a pile
of brown bread sliced, various plates of biscuit and thin flour-cake,
butter, and pickled fish. Around this the customers gather to acquire
an appetite, which they accomplish by drinking one or two glasses of
schnapps, eating a few small fish (stromung) spread upon their bread
and butter, and then drinking some schnapps. They then go in to
dinner, and call for what they want, including the various wines
necessary for the process of digestion. Having eaten heartily and
emptied a few bottles of wine, they wind up with coffee and cognac or
maraschino. One would think such a process every day would burn the
lining off the best stomach in the world; but the Swedes, like the
Russians, have gutta-percha stomachs. The same system, it is true,
prevails in San Francisco, only in a different form, and the same
consequences generally ensue. People are very apt to get up from the
table with a rush of blood to the head, a general obliquity of vision,
and a peculiar weakness in the knees. I tried it myself by way of
experiment, and was sick of a headache for three days after. Somehow I
can travel a long distance on foot without getting tired, but my
stomach is not lined with sheet iron. I have seen women and children
drink at a single sitting enough of intoxicating beverages, since my
arrival in Europe, to have capsized me for a month. This, I think,
will account for the prevalence of bloated bodies and red noses in
these highly civilized countries.
I had read somewhere, before visiting Sweden, that the Swedes are not
very sociable toward strangers. Perhaps in this respect they do not
produce so favorable an impression as the Germans, but my experience
has been such as to give me a very pleasant idea of their social
qualities. It is true they are not so demonstrative in their manners
as the French, or so enthusiastic as the Germans; but I found no
difficulty in becoming acquainted with them, and was invariably
treated with kindness and hospitality. When a Swede manifests an
interest in your behalf, it is pretty certain that he feels it. If you
become acquainted with one respectable family, you have a general
entree into the entire social circle. No pains are spared to render
your visit agreeable; and although the demonstrations of kindness are
never intrusive, you feel that they are cordial and sincere. There may
be among the more polished classes a certain degree of formality which
to a stranger bears the appearance of reserve; but this quickly passes
away, and the pleasure is all the greater in finding that there is
really very little reserve about them. With all their adhesion to
forms and ceremonies, they are simple and unaffected in their manners,
and have a natural repugnance to whatever is meretricious. In a word,
the Swedes are an honest, straightforward, sterling people, resembling
more, in certain points of character, the English than any of their
Continental neighbors, though I must do them the justice to say that
they rarely have so unpleasant a way of manifesting their best traits.
I can readily believe that the longer they are known the better they
may be liked. It is true I saw nothing of Swedish society beyond what
a casual tourist can see in passing rapidly through the country, yet
that little impressed me very favorably, and disposes me to rely with
confidence upon what I gathered from others who have enjoyed a more
extended experience.
The home sketches of Fredrika Bremer give a more thorough insight of
Swedish life and manners than perhaps those of any other writer. Of
late years, however, Miss Bremer does not appear to have maintained
her early popularity. She is said to have written some things which
have given offense and provoked severe criticism, and I was surprised
to hear her productions mentioned by several of her countrymen in
somewhat disparaging terms. This was a source of disappointment to me,
for I had supposed she was the most popular writer in Sweden; and I
could not easily forget the pleasure I had derived from the perusal of
"The H---- Family," "Nina," "The Professor," and other of her
charming delineations of domestic life. As no man is a prophet in his
own valley, I suppose the same may be said of women. To this, however,
Jenny Lind is an exception.
But, as usual, I find myself steering out of the channel. We were now
in the great Wenern Lake, a vast sheet of water fifty miles broad by
one hundred in length. The elevation of this lake is 147 feet above
the sea level. Its shores are densely wooded, and it abounds in
islands, many of which are inhabited and cultivated. Several rivers of
considerable size empty their waters into the Wenern, among which is
the Klar, a large and rapid stream having its source in the mountains
of Norway, at a distance of two hundred and fifty miles to the north.
Fishing and lumbering are the principal occupations of the inhabitants
living on the islands and shores. All these interior waters are frozen
over in winter, and communication is carried on by means of sledges.
The winters are very severe; and it is said that great numbers of
wolves, driven from their usual haunts by starvation, prowl along the
public highways during the winter months in search of prey. Traveling
parties are sometimes attacked, and it is considered dangerous for
children to go from one farm-house to another. The government,
however, by a system of rewards for the destruction of these vicious
animals, has succeeded of late years in greatly reducing their
numbers.
In speaking of the severity of Swedish winters, it may be well to
state that the cold is uniform, and consequently more easily endured
than if the temperature were subject to sudden variations. There is,
of course, considerable difference between the northern and southern
parts of the country; but, taking the average or central parts, the
winters may be considered as lasting about five months. During that
period the snow covers the earth, and the lakes and rivers are frozen.
At Stockholm the thermometer averages in summer about 70 degrees
above, and in winter 29 degrees below zero, of Fahrenheit. At
Gottenburg the summers are not quite so warm and the winters not so
cold. The temperature of the Norwegian coast facing the Atlantic is
less rigorous than that of the Swedish coast on the Baltic, arising
from the influence of the Gulf Stream, and partly from the proximity
of the open sea. Even at Wammerfest, which lies within the arctic
circle, the winters are comparatively mild. At Bergen it rains over
two hundred days in the year, and the fjords are seldom frozen over.
Passing along the eastern shore of the Wenern, we passed a series of
rocky islands, well wooded till we reached the town of Wenersberg--an
important depot for the commerce and products of the lake. At this
place a brisk trade in iron and lumber is carried on during the summer
months, and the wharves present quite a lively appearance, with their
shipping, and piles of lumber and merchandise. The population of
Wenersberg is about 2500; the houses are neat, and the general
appearance of the town is thrifty. We stopped long enough to enjoy a
ramble through the streets, and take a look at the inhabitants, after
which our little steamer proceeded on her way through the Wassbottom
Lake. At the end of this we entered the Carls Graf, or that portion of
the canal built by Charles IX., to avoid the upper falls of the Gota
River. The canal is here cut through solid masses of rock, and must
have been a work of great difficulty and expense.
Late in the evening we arrived at the Falls of Trolhaetta.