Midnight Sunbeams; or, Bits of Travel Through the Land of the Norseman. Edwin Coolidge Kimball
“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